#i’m just so sick of it…i’m sick of my coworkers complimenting me when i am starving and can’t do anything about it….sick of my doctor not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thesmokingguns · 3 years

Text

24 Hours

Word Count:3454

Request/ Summary: “Can i request one where nicki gets turned down by their makeup artist or like stand in manager and hes upset and he finds out the the manager just doesnt sleep with people she just met”

I tried to write this where she breaks rules for him and turns him down. He understands what her restrictions are but he can see that living by her strict rules she created for herself she is making herself unhappy.

I hope I hit the prompt you wanted!

A/N: This turned out longer than I expected it to be so sorry about that one. I do have three requests I’m writing right now on top of some of the stuff I am writing so you can all still make requests but I'm going to be saying it’s a two week wait for a new request right now. I also want to say I am going to write a third and fourth part to the 3am Duff series because I have no self control. Thank you for everyone being patient with me and all your kind words! If you want to be added to my tallest please message me or go HERE

Tag List: @thenobodies-inc , @littlemisscare-all , @agroupiewhore , @ayablackwood

You were having a bad day. Not just a bad day but one of those days where everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. From morning to night it was the literal day from hell for you.

8:12am You woke up, an hour after you had hit snooze on your alarm, twelve minutes after you were supposed to leave your house to get to work.

8:34am After throwing yourself together and rushing out the door, you were running out of the apartment with the cup of coffee you had economically and time consciously thought to make. On the last step before you had escaped into the day you slipped, the hot coffee spilled all down the front of your red dress, because of course it was the one day you weren’t wearing black. Rushing back up the stairs you realized that the keys to get into your apartment were in your apartment, hanging on the hook just out of reach behind the door. So you would be going to work in your coffee dress.

9:01AM You made it to work, only thirty-one minutes late. Your boss wasn’t happy that you were late on a Friday, thinking you had done this on purpose as some slight to them. Which meant they had pulled you in the office and chewed you a new asshole.

They also told you about coming to work in a clean, tidy appearance as if you had wanted to be wearing your coffee.

As you were being yelled at you watched the line back up and couldn’t help but think about how yelling at you was just making the situation worse. You also were also thinking about how next time you’d just call in sick instead of being late.

11:59AM One minute before you were scheduled to take a break, one fucking minute, and the crazy man came in. Throwing his shit smelling money at you and proceeding to vomit all over your window.

Your window, your mess. So instead of having a much needed timeout from the day from hell you were trying to scrub the smell of puke off a counter.

1:47 PM You finally stepped out for lunch. Moving to the payphone to call your roommate. She thankfully answered on the second ring of the apartment phone. At least the door would be unlocked after work, which was one thing you had been worried about.

She was quick to tell you about how she had gotten you a gig for the night. Knowing how you wanted to travel, you two had come up with a plan a few months ago to find work in Hollywood for bands or on film sets. She had been pretty popular making costumes and helping to come up with whole concepts for the upcoming Glam Rock scene. One of her usual bands needed help because their makeup artist had been sick, so you were going to work for her tonight.

This would be considered a good thing but since it was a trial run you were not going to be getting paid for this gig. So your time would be free. The makeup you used on them you needed to provide. And you have to be there at 5PM to set up, which is the exact time that you need to get out of work. Your roommate agreed to help set you up and she was going to bring you a change of clothes to the gig. It would be fine because the band wouldn’t need to be made up until 6 or 7 but it was just another thing on your plate.

So you would be losing money that you needed to pay rent on a bunch of entitled rock stars who would probably not hire you and this whole night would just leave you feeling exhausted and annoyed. Really looking forward to it.

3:49PM Your coworker went home sick with a headache so now you had to do twice the amount of work and there was no hope in hell that you would be making it to the gig in time tonight. That great first impression that you would need to get an actual long job was gone. And you were stuck with a line out the door of people trying to cash their checks all seeming to want to kill you. Happy Friday.

5:02PM You were running down the street, thankful you worked around the corner from the venue. A sigh of relief left your lips seeing your roommate waiting for you. She dragged you inside pushing you towards a bathroom and giving you a bag of clothes to change into. You lined your brown eyes with the kohl liner, winging your eyeliner and adding a deep burgundy lip shade that complimented your darker skin.

“Y/N, hurry up.” you rolled your eyes, repacking the bag and heading out where your friend was waiting for you. “I put your makeup in the dressing room already. It’s not set up yet.” she pulled you down a few hallways. Equipment for the band was more around as they started getting ready to set up everything for the show.

You entered the dressing room, seeing there was a table for food and drinks set up, a rack of costumes for the band to wear, and finally a vanity where your makeup bag was sitting ready to be unpacked. Your friend handed you a cup, pouring a few fingers worth of vodka into it before splashing in some juice to help the taste.

“Cheers,” you tapped red solo cups drinking heavily. If you weren’t going to get paid for the gig you might as well take advantage of whatever free perks came with it.

6:23PM Sitting on the couch, legs crossed, you were chatting aimlessly with your friend when the door opened and a man walked in looking at you confused.

“Hey, I’m Y/N. I’m the makeup artist for the night.” you were quick to introduce yourself not wanting him to think you were another girl who was just trying to sleep with the band.

“Mick.” he moved to pour himself a full cup of straight vodka, “Can you do my makeup now? The three pretty boys take too much time.” Ushering him into the seat you started out on him, wondering what the hell he meant about the other guys being divas.

7:45PM A blonde burst into the room, seeming surprised that you were standing there. The girl on his arm laughed too loudly and you looked over to your roommate who was handing Mick a belt to wear. She just shrugged, this was normal for her.

“Vince, new makeup artist. You should sit now before the Terror Twins stumble in.” Mick warned him. He pulled away from the girl on his arm headed over to your chair with an easy smile.

“You're going to make me prettier, doll?”

“I’m thinking that you would look with some blue eyeshadow. It would really complete your Malibu Barbie look.” You retorted, watching amused as his mouth dropped open, not used to having someone give it back to him.

You hated cocky assholes who thought that they were God’s gift. There was nothing wrong with a man who was confident but the way that he was looking at himself in the mirror as you did his makeup you knew he was the type that thought he was above everyone else.

8:21PM Two men burst into the room as you finished up Vince. Looking at the two taller men you let your eyes wander over them. Vince was a diva but there two were going to be where you had the most trouble. They must be tber terror twins Mick had mentioned.

One of the guys fell into the chair, laughing about something as he sipped the beer he was drinking, rubbing his nose. He lit up a cigarette as he sat back in the chair not seeming to care if it was annoying that he was blowing smoke in your face as you tried to work.

You bit your tongue, annoyed as you tried to work around his cigarette, that he almost burnt you with seven different times. As you worked you could feel a set of eyes on you. Looking up you saw the man he had walked in with, staring at you with these intense olive eyes.

There wasn’t a chance in hell that you would be interested in any of these loudmouth guys, who all seemed to be drunk and hyperactive. It was kind of like you were doing makeup for a bunch of chimps instead of men.

8:55PM Finally the last man was sitting in your chair. His eyes gazing up at you with such intensity you stopped moving around to just look at him.

“Have we met before?” there was something familiar about him and you wondered if you had met him at a bar or at a show before.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I’m Nikki.” Usually when a guy used a nickname instead of your given name you chalked it up to them being a douchebag but with him it seemed natural and not derogatory, “Thank you for coming out to do our makeup today. I heard the other artist got sick at the last minute. We appreciate you taking your time to help us out…” he left it blank waiting for you to give him your name.

“Y/N.” You were surprised by how talkative he was. The kindness in his tone is different from the way the other guys have been. Just when you thought he was different you felt a hand on the back of your thigh, “If you don’t get your hand off me I’ll break your fingers so you can’t play tonight.” you warned him, looking into the olive eyes gazing up at you.

He was too good looking. The type of guy you could get into trouble with if you allowed yourself but you wouldn’t be taking home a stranger tonight.

“Do you always talk to your clients like that?” he asked with a coy smile on his face. This was the type of smug you liked. The funny easy going type who could make you laugh if you had not been on your feet for twelve hours.

“Only the ones that don’t pay me.” you replied, swiping his eyeshadow on. You wanted this to be over so you could go home and sleep.

The drummer came over, bumping into the vanity and knocking the eyeshadow off and not seeming to notice as the makeup smashed into a thousand pieces on the ground. You were officially losing a lot of money on this job and didn’t have the funds to replace it.

“Jesus, T-Bone, watch where you’re going.” Nikki commented, watching you start to pack everything up, “Aren’t you sticking around to watch the show?” You shook your head. “Why don’t you stick around and I’ll take you out after for a late dinner. As an apology for this being a bust for you.” You were sure that the way he smiled and how his eyes were so clear made it easy for him to pick up chicks but you weren’t going to be one of them.

“I had a long day. I’m not going out with you.” You zipped up your bag ready to leave

“Listen, Y/N, just stay until we go on. Maybe I can talk to someone and you can get paid for coming out.” You did need the money. So reluctantly you stayed.

9:57PM You shouldn’t have stayed. Nikki had seemed to think you telling him you were not going out with him was a maybe you’d go out with him.

It had been an hour of him sitting on the couch getting to know you, asking questions and being nice to you. Men weren’t nice to you just for the sake of being nice, they were born without the concept of human decency.

But he had also talked to their manager, pointing at you and saying stuff you didn’t get to hear. Now you were stuck in a weird limbo wondering if you were going to get paid.

11:15pm The band rushed on stage and you were pulled aside by the manager. He handed you and envelope that you knew contained cash.

“The boys are going to have a few California gigs. If you can stick it out for a couple weeks I’ll consider hiring you for the tour. I’ll pay you $100 bucks a gig and you need to bring your own supplies to start but if you go on tour you’ll get a contract.” He said. You agreed and he handed you a piece of paper with four dates, the upcoming week, times, and his phone number to call if you couldn’t make it. There was also a chicken scratch handwriting with the name Nikki and a phone number

You were stunned when he walked away. You not only got paid but you have jobs lined up to make even more. It was a dream.

Looking up, you moved towards the stage watching the bassist move around the stage. He was high energy, loving what he was doing. There was this presence about him that drew you in. If you did get the tour position that would be trouble.

11:59PM You had finished packing up and we’re heading out of the venue to head home. You were ready for your bed and a few hours of sleep. The guys were playing tomorrow and you wanted to not be having a bad day.

Trying to sneak out, you almost jumped back when four sweaty men came barreling into the room. Your heart instantly went to your throat seeing Nikki. His smile dancing across his lips, hey black hair stuck to his forehead just oozing self confidence and sex appeal.

“You’re leaving so soon?” You just nodded at his question, wondering if it would be considered rude to tuck his hair out of his face. “Did you call a taxi or need a ride? There’s a lot of unsafe riff raff out this late.” He warned and you almost thought he sounded concerned.

“I’m a grown woman. I can walk myself home. It’s only like 15 minutes from here.” His eyebrow raised as he wiped the sweat off his face with a towel.

“I’ll give you a ride.”

“No you won’t.” You shoe back, “I don’t know you and I don’t leave with strangers I’ve only known for one day.” You responded. It was practical to have rules to keep you from getting hurt.

“Well, Y/N, we’ve known each other for two days now since it’s past midnight.” He was so calm saying this to you, “And I’m trying to cut back on drinking so if they see me leave with you I won’t be harassed so you’ll really be doing me the favor.” Thinking about what he said, your tongue licked your top lip nervously. The way his eyes followed this motion gave you your answer.

“Thank you for the offer. I’m going to say goodbye to my roommate. I’ll see you in 20 minutes outside?” You gave him a smile and saw the way he was melting under your touch as you moved away from him.

You moved over to your friend letting her know you were leaving and you’d see her at home.

12:22 AM Adjusting the bag over your shoulder you weaved through the crowds pouring in and out of all the clubs. No one ever really bothered you walking home. It was just the cat calling and guys thinking that they had a right to run their mouths

“Y/N.” You frowned hearing your name. The roar of a motorcycle speeding up had your eyes looking out on the street.

Oh Shit. There was Nikki, looking at you with a line where his smile had been, his kind eyes looking annoyed at you. You had left him after saying you’d let him take you home but he was too pushy.

“Get on.” the steely tone of his voice made you stop what you were doing, thinking of what to do next. People were looking at the pair of you, some probably recognizing Nikki from his band. You rolled your eyes, stepping forward.

“Listen to me, I’m not getting on. I don’t know you.” His look softened and it was like for the first time he understood what the issue was.

“I just want to make sure that you make it home safe. I know you don’t want anything happening to you. It would feel like my responsibility if you went missing after doing the band's makeup.” you rolled your eyes. Eyeing him and the bike. It had been a long day and it was onlya five minute drive. What was the worst that could happen?

1:02AM The worst thing that could happen was happening.

When you got on the back of Nikki’s Harley he had asked where you lived. As he drove, you wrapped around his back you realized for the first time of the night you were smiling a genuine wife smile.

Watching the lights of the Strip and the hustle and bustle fly by when wrapped around his warm body, the noie drowned out by the roar of the bike was nice. It felt good. So when you pulled up on your street and he asked if you wanted to drive around more you didn't say no like you should have.

Weaving around the empty highways with just the pair of you was nice. There was no conversations but it felt like you two were getting to know each other on another level.

3:55AM Nikki pulled the bike into a donut shop on the side of the highway. The smell of fresh baked pastries and coffee brewing awakening you much like the wind whipping your face had been keeping you awake but it had been almost twenty four hours awake.

The pair of your ordered black coffee and a donut, sitting on stools at the counter and eating in a comfortable silence.

“Are you mad at me?” He didn’t have a cheeky grin on his face like you had expected but he was serious. “I know you said you wouldn’t go out with me but it just seemed like you were having a bad day and I have a hero complex.” you snorted when he said this. Surprised he admitted that he had a heroes complex.

“I’m not mad. I got on the back of your bike and stayed out.” you thought for a second, “I think I needed it. I always follow my rules and never break them. I think sometimes I need a break from the rules I create.” you said all this with your heart beating wondering what the hell you were doing with this guy in the middle of nowhere.

5:41AM Nikki had wrapped his leather jacket around you, both your boots abandoned by the motorcycle as you sat with toes in the sand watching the sun rise over the Pacific. You hadn't even seen the sun rising over the ocean before so you were wrapped up in the orange and golds of the sky, how the inky black of the water came alive into blue and purple hues with the light.

It was beautiful.

It felt like something was washing over you as you watchined it. Something was changing as you watched the sun start a new day. A new day that you had this feeling in your bones was going to be a good day.

Wiping a tear away, you took a deep breath remembering that you had moved here to make your dreams come true and for the first time it felt like it was going to happen.

A hand on your back reminded you that you weren’t alone. His olive eyes looking at you, concerned. You wiped a tear away trying to laugh it off.

“I never saw the sunrise over the ocean. It’s beautiful,” It was at that moment, wrapped up in the beauty of everything that you realized that he was going to kiss you. The way his hand was against your check, wiping the tears away.

But you surprised both of you leaning forward to push your lips against his. Making the first move. You were breaking all of your rules for him but it felt good and you could tell you would be breaking more rules with him

6:00AM It was going to be a good day.

#nikki sixx fanfiction #Nikki Sixx #Nikki Sixx headcanon #Nikki Sixx X You #Nikki Sixx X Reader #Nikki Fucking Sixx #Nikki Sixx fanfic #Nikki Sixx Imagine #Nikki Sixx writing #Nikki Sixx Request #Request

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pastelgoogie97 · 4 years

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How Do I Tell A Girl I Want To Kiss Her? |jjk

hi guys!! sorry for being away for so long, but i wanted to thank you for showing ‘i thought we said no yelling at 3 am’ so much love!!! i had to post this from my phone so im sorry if there are any errors:/ HOWEVER, i hope you guys really like this post and again i appreciate all the love my other drabble got!!

genre: first date and first kiss FLUFF

pairing: collegestudent!jungkook x collegestudent!femalereader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of an abusive ex-boyfriend (if you SQUINT)

—————

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror for what felt like the fiftieth time. She kept changing her outfit and messing with the hair she’d spent hours on out of pure anxiousness. She didn’t know what she was so nervous about. Sure, she hadn’t been on a date with a guy in a while, but she never felt as nervous as she did for this one. Then again, her date was going to be with Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. The boy she’d caught feelings for that worked in the coffee shop down the street from her apartment. At first, she thought he was adorable considering he was only two years older than her. She also thought she saw him around school a couple of times on her way to class. He seemed like the quiet type, but once he warmed up to her, he found the courage to not only become a friend of hers but to ask her to get dinner with him later tonight.

“Girl, don’t stress. You look, gorgeous babe,” That was Serena’s voice over the FaceTime call. Y/N knew that Serena genuinely meant what she was saying, but she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of doubt and think Serena was just saying it because they were close friends.

The sound of her apartment door snapped her out of her nervous haze and all she could do was freeze. After Serena coaxed her into opening the door, she wished her best friend good luck and hung up the call. Y/N looked down at her outfit once more before opening the door. God, she must’ve looked like an idiot. Did she open the door too fast? Did she seem desperate already and she hasn’t even spoken to him?

“W-Wow, you look beautiful,” Jungkook’s soft voice spoke up, the rustle of a bouquet shifting her gaze to his outstretched hands in front of her.

“Oh Jungkook, they’re beautiful, thank you so much. You didn’t have to get these,” Y/N silently cursed at herself for speaking too fast, but seemed relieved that Jungkook hadn’t called her out for it. Most likely out of politeness.

“The flower shop was on the way here, so I thought I’d get you some,” That was a lie. The flower shop was a solid block and a half away from her apartment in the opposite direction from which he came, but he didn’t mind keeping that a secret from her.

After a bit of small talk, Jungkook grabbed Y/N’s hand and lightly squeezed it. His mind went foggy at the simple contact their hands were making and he found himself smiling dopily, chuckling airily when Y/N started to swing their intertwined fingers.

Once they made it to his car, he opened her door for her and quickly shut it, jogging over to his side to take them to the restaurant he’d made reservations at. Y/N smiled and twiddled with her thumbs in her lap, struggling to find the confidence to look at Jungkook without wanting to scream. She didn’t want to mess anything up with him. According to her ex, she’d done enough of that even after they got together, so she was going to make sure she’d get it right.

“You feeling okay?” Jungkook interrupted her thoughts. Then again, when didn’t he? “If you feel sick or anything we can reschedule Y/N, you won’t hurt my feelings.”

The girl giggled and let out a shaky sigh. “No, I feel fine. I’m just nervous, I guess.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile. She was nervous to go on a date with him? She obviously couldn’t see how much he was shaking when he handed her the flowers. He must’ve been pretty good at hiding his nerves.

“It’s okay to be nervous, don’t feel like it’s wrong to feel weird about this whole thing,” Jungkook began. “You don’t even wanna know how scared I was to ask you out. I honestly thought you were going to tell me no.”

Y/N giggled. His heart fluttered at the sound and he made it his sole duty then and there to make sure she kept smiling and laughing all night. Laughing always made his nerves unwind, so maybe it could help with hers as well.

“Thanks, Jungkook,” She smiled. “I’m glad we’re doing this, I’m excited to get to know you better,”

That was all the reassurance Jungkook needed. Before she could say anything else, he pulled out of his parking spot and started heading over to the restaurant. It wasn’t one of those high-end classy restaurants, but he also wanted to make sure it wasn’t the McDonald’s down the street. He’d been very careful in finding a place that had a very broad menu so she could find something that she liked without having to force herself to eat something she didn’t really want. He’d asked Yoongi to help him prepare the second she told him yes.

“So, do you like working at the coffee shop?” Y/N queried, her eyes watching the bright lights of the city drive past in fast blurs of color.

“Yeah, it’s helping me pay for my dorm’s rent and everything, plus all my coworkers are really nice,” Jungkook rambled. “Plus, I got to serve you every time you walked in, so I can’t help but love that place,”

Y/N smiled and shook her head, making a comment about how cheesy that was. He giggled and tried to defend his point by saying that he was being completely honest, but she couldn’t help but giggle louder. The conversation carried on until they got to the restaurant. Before they knew it, they were getting out of the car and walking into the establishment hand-in-hand.

After they were led to their table by the hostess, Jungkook pulled Y/N’s chair out for her and pushed her in, his eyes settling on the soft flesh of her flushed cheeks at the action. He then sat down and got settled before looking up at her. She still looked a bit shifty, so he decided to make a funny face to break the thick layer of ice in between them. Once she laughed, he knew that he would be able to talk to her.

“Okay, so I want to know everything about you,” Jungkook stated boldly. “If you feel uncomfortable with anything I ask you, just let me know and I’ll ask something else, okay?”

Y/N nodded and felt herself relax. He was so reassuring and it’s almost like he knew how nervous she was. She gave a silken smile and leaned back in her chair a bit.

“Ask away,”

—————

They’d already gotten through their appetizer and entree’s, debating on whether they should order dessert before they paid the bill. Jungkook had found out so much about Y/N as did she about him. From the time she got perfect attendance in first grade to what major she was in, Jungkook had found himself drowning in so much adoration for the girl in front of him.

“Wait, so Tae, Jimin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, and Hobi are all living with you?” Y/N inquired genuinely, watching Jungkook nod and sip on his sprite. “That’s crazy! Are you all close?”

“We’re like brothers. Not even because we’re living together, but because we always help each other with everything and it’s literally like we’re all related to each other. We do everything for each other and whenever one of us is in trouble, we always manage to get them out of it,”

Y/N felt her heart sigh adoringly at his statement. He genuinely cared about his friends and something about him being so caring made her want to ask him to be her boyfriend right then and there. She was having such an amazing time with him and talking to him felt like second nature. She couldn’t remember the last time a boy made her feel this comfortable and safe.

“Did you ask them for tips on where we should go tonight?” she chuckled, watching the crinkles form next to his eyes when he smiled.

“God,” he scoffed. “I asked them if I was insane for wanting to ask you out,”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows with a grin. “Why would you be insane?”

“Because you’re so out of my league, I didn’t think you’d even think of me as anyone more than the guy that makes your coffee before class every morning,”

She looked down at his hand and hesitantly grabbed it in hers, rubbing her thumb along his knuckles sweetly before meeting his gaze.

“I’m not out of your league Jungkook,” She began. “If anything, I’m out of yours,”

Jungkook knew that was a flat-out lie, but he wasn’t sure if she knew it was. Either way, he shook his head with a chuckle and thanked her for the compliment. Just when he was about to ask her another question, their waiter came back around to ask them if they wanted dessert. Jungkook sent a look to Y/N as if to ask her if she wanted to eat anything else and she simply shrugged her shoulders.

“We’d like the check please,”

The waiter walked off to fetch their bill and Y/N held her full stomach, laughing when Jungkook did the same and slapped his stomach. They both giggled and kept their conversation from earlier going, wanting to pass the time until their bill came back.

Jungkook paid for everything despite Y/N’s protests. He helped her down from her chair and made sure they weren’t leaving anything that belonged to them at the table before placing his hand on her lower back and ushering her out of the restaurant. They got back into his car and Y/N couldn’t help but smile like an idiot the second he started the engine.

“Before I take you home, did you maybe wanna go get some ice cream? I know this really good place not too far from your apartment,”

“That sounds good! I love ice cream,”

Jungkook nodded with a smile and turned onto a different road from the one to her house. They found themselves parked in front of a really small ice cream shop and walked inside. It was a tiny place, yes, but the flavors were stretched out along the right wall, and Y/N couldn’t help but rush up to the glass like an elementary school girl, trying to see which flavor she wanted most and what toppings she wanted to put on it.

“Jungkook! You’re not going to introduce me to your date?” A voice piped up from behind the counter, slightly startling Y/N.

Jungkook grabbed her hand and smiled, ushering her over to the cash register where she was met with none other than Kim Taehyung. She smiled at the boy and gripped Jungkook’s hand a bit tighter, watching the two of them interact but not really paying attention to what they were saying.

“Hyung, this is Y/N, Y/N this is Tae,” she shook hands with Taehyung and felt a small smile spread across her features when he complimented her.

“So, what flavor do you guys want?”

—————

The two of them waved goodbye to Taehyung before leaving the store with their ice cream in their hands. They both got a cone and Jungkook put every single possible topping on top of his while Y/N settled for oreo crumbs and cookie dough bites.

Now, the two of them were walking up to Y/N’s apartment and she felt downhearted that her date was going to be coming to an end soon. They stopped in front of her door and looked at each other, giggling as she pulled out her keys.

“Oh no,” Y/N frowned. Jungkook tossed her a worrisome look, asking her what was wrong. “We didn’t finish our ice cream yet!”

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not following where she was going with her comment. “Looks like you’ll just have to come inside and finish it before you go!”

The boy in front of her smiled and rolled his eyes, nodding his head as she unlocked her door and allowed him to step inside. She turned on the light in her kitchen and walked over to one of the chairs at her table, watching him take the seat next to her. She looked up at him with hearts in her eyes as she continued to finish her ice cream.

“You have ice cream on your nose, dork,” Jungkook chuckled as he grabbed a napkin to dab at her nose.

Y/N looked down at her ice cream and giggled, pressing the treat up to his nose and letting out a light laugh. She grabbed the napkin he used on her and struggled to contain her giggles.

“Oh no, you have ice cream on your nose,”

They continued to tease each other like this until they finished their cones. Sadly, Y/N found herself walking Jungkook out of her apartment so he could go home. They stopped outside her front door and looked at each other, hoping to give each other the rundown of how they thought the date went and decide if they wanted to go on another one.

“I had an amazing time with you tonight Y/N” Jungkook smiled, looking down at her. “I really want to do this again with you, if you don’t mind,”

Y/N smiled and bit her lip to contain the girlish squeal that wanted to come out of her so bad. “I would love to do this again, actually, as soon as possible,”

They both giggled and went silent, looking into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, enjoying the comfortable silence that fell between them.

“I should probably get back home now, but I’ll text you as soon as I get home so we can talk about going out again. Sound good?”

Y/N nodded and looked down at both of their hands getting warmed up. She felt a bit of heat burning the roses of her cheeks and she tried to get rid of it before she met his eyes again.

The second their eyes locked, Jungkook stooped down to her height and pressed his lips against her own. They felt soft against her skin, molding with hers like the last piece of a puzzle. A wave of warmth crashed over both of their bodies as Y/N’s hands traveled to the back of his neck while Jungkook’s hands placed themselves firmly at her hips, gripping them tightly as he brought her against his chest.

It felt like the way it was described in the movies. Y/N felt her legs buckle, her eyes fluttered shut, she felt like the world wasn’t such a scary place as long as she was in his arms. He felt the exact same way. He couldn’t help but yearn for the feeling of her lips to remain on his at every hour of the day. It may have been their first, but damn was he sure it wouldn’t be their last.

They pulled away for air and looked at each other with flushed faces and ragged breaths. They giggled and pressed another light kiss to each other’s lips once more before Jungkook looked down at his phone. He really had to leave now, as much as he didn’t want to.

“I’ll text you when I get back to my dorm, okay?” she nodded. “Goodnight Y/N,”

“Goodnight Jungkook,”

232 notes · View notes

itsamejin · 4 years

Text

this love || yoongi angst

Summary: A story through the years detailing your relationship with Yoongi and all the ups and downs that came with dating an idol.

Warning: cursing, sexually suggestive content

Genre: angst, fluff, idol!yoongi, artist!yn

Pairing: Yoongi x female!reader

Premise: Based on the song ‘This Love’ by Taylor Swift. Reader is an artist.

Commission Request: @minyoongail

Word Count: 7,681 words

—

You met Yoongi when he was just a trainee, ready to take on the world and bursting with energy to get on stage. He had visions of grandeur- him living in a beautiful mansion, wearing name-brand jewelry, cruising in rare sports vehicles. When times were simpler, he’d promise that you’d be there with him, indulging in the glitz and glamour that came with his fame. He’d be an idol and you’d be his muse. Yet under all those pretenses, under all those empty promises, he was just Yoongi.

He was a guy who walked in and out of your life as easily as ocean tides come and go on the shore. He taught you how to fall in love, fall out of it, and rekindle it all the same. It was a sort of beautiful asphyxiation, being wrapped up in his lifestyle and learning to accept the consequences that came with dating a celebrity.

You wonder even now as you search his name on the internet, if you had any regrets. After all, you lost too much to be with him.

—

April 2013

A first meeting meant everything to you, especially when it came to your clients. You didn’t accept jobs from weirdos who didn’t respect your craft and you definitely hated impatient ones who badgered you to finish your pieces as quick as possible.

Big Hit was a happy medium and had hired you as a contract employee after reviewing your portfolio. Although the style of work they wanted from you was not at all what you specialized in, you were happy that they treated you like an actual employee and not some sort of machine. Plus, the pay was good.

You were asked to work on some cute animal characters for an upcoming boy group that you weren’t terribly familiar with, maybe stumbled on a vlog of theirs that you forgot about. You were intrigued by the slew of trainees that sat in front of you, their palms clenched out of anxiousness.

“I’m [Y/N], one of the digital artists that will be working with you guys from now on,” you introduce yourself politely to the seven bright-eyed boys in front of you.

You were in a room with other staff members, discussing the concept of the “Hip Hop Monsters” your graphics team was working on. This was a planned project lasting over a span of years and would eventually result in collectors edition items. It made you giddy just thinking of the royalties you’d earn from it all.

“I’d like it if the animals took after us,” one of the boys suggested shyly, slightly intimidated by the large number of corporate employees there were in the room for something that seemed so trivial. “I think our fans would like the characters more if they kind of resembled our personalities and stuff...”

You nod along to his suggestions, staring at his jersey to notice that the member who spoke up was Rap Monster. It was cute how they all wore clothes with their names on them. That’s one way to attract attention, you suppose.

“Any other suggestions you guys have for us?” you ask, jotting down notes and making rough sketches as they talk amongst themselves.

“I’d like it if,” a somewhat husky voice starts and you can’t help but stare into the guy’s eyes as he speaks, “my character was a turtle.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter along with the other staff members. He had said it with such a straight face and with so little enthusiasm, yet you could tell from his slight blush that he was serious. He was cute in the way that he wasn’t trying to be.

“You resemble one,” you grin at him, drawing out a small turtle with a cute beanie on your iPad, like the one he wore in front of you. You show it to him. “Something like this?”

“Exactly that!”

He breaks out into a gummy smile, one so bright that it hurt your heart to stare at him for too long. Now you were the one left flustered. He realizes how enthusiastic he was and got embarrassed once again, scratching the back of his head to avoid eye-contact.

“S-sorry, for shouting. It looks good.”

You bite your lip from forming too big of a grin. You still had to remain professional after all.

“You’re welcome,” you smirk slightly as he goes back to trying to look cool. You can’t help but doodle his name on your iPad even as the other members shared ideas for their own animals.

Suga, Suga, Suga.

You smile to yourself. It does have a ring to it.

—

June 2013

Yoongi sees you in the hallways sometimes and wants to say hi, but he can’t because other people are watching. Though, that isn’t the only reason.

He tells himself every day that he’ll muster up the courage to go talk to you, but every time he sees your face his legs turn to jelly. Yoongi was busy with debut stages recently, but he found some free time in his schedule to approach you.

Yoongi was never the shy type, more reserved if anything else, but you had something that enamored him- intrigued him. He wanted to know who you were other than the cute girl he was stuck in meetings with from time to time.

As you sat there on your desk, Yoongi lingered in an area nearby. He would give you his number today and if things didn’t work out then that would be that. There was no need to be all shy about this; it’s not like this is his first time asking someone out.

He strides over to you with feigned confidence and you look up after a minute, not noticing how his shadow loomed over you. He sees that you’re working on realistic portraits of the members and not the cutesy characters he usually sees you drawing.

“Hi,” he says curtly, trying to seem disinterested though he was the one that approached you first.

“Hello,” you smile up at him.

Suga.

“You draw really cool stuff,” he says to break the awkward tension. “You should show it to the CEO. I’m sure we’d have cooler concepts for our albums with your work.”

You look up at him, a happy glint in your eyes. He was complimenting you, although avoiding eye contact to seem a little less nervous than he really was.

“Well, I’m just a contract worker so I don’t think I really have the authority to start up new projects out of nowhere,” you say with a smile on your face at how flustered he looks. “I feel like you’re here to ask me for something. Am I right?”

He looks away for a split second, coughing to alleviate his nerves. He was a grown man for fuck’s sake, why was this so difficult?

“I was actually wondering if you could come give me some opinions about some art that I drew,” he lies through his teeth, just trying to find a way to get you in a more private area than the corporate floor teaming with watchful gazes. “I’ve been trying to start a new hobby.”

You chuckle slightly, seeing right through his words. You stand up to amuse him.

“I’d be happy to.”

He leads you to a studio filled with whacky knick-knacks and dim lighting, not necessarily the best place to draw. You know by now that he just said those things as an excuse to be alone with you.

“So where’s this masterpiece?” you tease slightly at his nervous expression. How did a guy who looked so deadpan have such a giddy personality?

“Well actually,” he starts off, palms already sweaty. “I-It’s not here right now, but I think I left it at the dorms. Maybe if we exchange phone numbers I can text it to you.”

He tried to appear nonchalant, but his hands moved as if he was doing a public speaking presentation. Yoongi thought he was doing great, though growing a little more nervous at how you were giggling.

“You know, Suga,” you start teasingly, “My number is in the company directory. Feel free to text me anytime.”

Yoongi slightly cringes hearing his stage name. He loves it, don’t get him wrong, but he didn't like hearing it come from you. He didn’t like the unfamiliar aspect that came with using his stage name- like you two only went by professional terms.

“Call me Yoongi,” he says with genuine confidence this time. “I like it better when my friends call me Yoongi.”

You nod, relieved that you could finally know this cute guy’s name. Truth be told, you were snooping around his conversations with other people to figure it out.

“So we’re friends?”

Yoongi nods, sitting down in his rolling chair.

“I’d like to be,” he grins, patting the sofa, hoping you’d take a seat with him.

And you do.

—

Present

It’s hard to work efficiently when you’re no longer in a corporate space. There’s no boss to check up on your progress nor is there a nosy coworker trying to see what you’re doing from the corner of their eye. You missed the hustle and bustle of an office floor, but it was nice exploring your creativity through freelance work.

You tap your digital pen onto the table repeatedly, looking at the reference image over and over again. It was a sick joke played by the universe to have been commissioned to draw your ex-boyfriend’s idol group, but you couldn’t refuse the hundreds of dollars the ecstatic fangirl was willing to give you. Truth be told, she might have offered too much pay, but you took up her offer anyway. Money is money.

Yet a face you’ve touched so often, a person you’d been with for years felt so unfamiliar to you. It wasn’t like you were drawing him realistically either. The client wanted anime-style figures that resembled them, looked enough like the boys to display it as her Twitter header. In the end, it’s still too difficult to draw. The rest of the members were lined up and sketched perfectly, but there was a blank area where Yoongi’s face should’ve been.

Your wrists hurt from the constant drawing and erasing so you set it down to massage your hand from cramping. In moments like these, you hated your job.

Ting.

A message notification popped up on your phone that laid beside your iPad. You usually left it silent when you were working, but you opened yourself up to distractions when drawing this particular piece. Whoever thought it was a good idea to specialize in celebrity artwork? You pick up your phone and smiled softly at the text.

hey, can I come over?

—

March 2014

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Yoongi, happy birthday to you~~”

You cheer on with the rest of the boys in their cramped dorm. Somehow you had gotten close enough with them to be at this level of comfort, sitting crisscrossed and shoulders touching with Jungkook and Seokjin. Yoongi blows out the candles and claps his hands, a little sad that another year passed by so quickly. He kept glancing at you who was focused on cutting the cake like the perfectionist you were.

He couldn’t help but feel like time was running out, like if he didn’t confess to you now then it would never happen. Yoongi took off the beanie he wore and ruffled his hair. He was feeling anxious all of a sudden.

“Dude don’t do that your dandruff is gonna get everywhere,” Hoseok whines. “The cake is gonna be decorated with your dead skin cells.”

“Go wash your hands,” Jin commands and Yoongi could only roll his eyes.

“Relax, I don’t even think we’re gonna have cake anytime soon when this slow-poke is taking forever to cut.”

He flicks your forehead as you glare up at him.

“I could so easily throw this in your face, but I choose not to,” you stick your tongue out at him and he scoffs.

“I’d like to see you try.”

All the members groan out of annoyance.

“Oh my god they’re having a lovers quarrel again,” Jimin yawned. “Aren’t you guys sick of arguing?”

Yoongi freezes at his words. Lover’s quarrel. That was a nice way to put it.

“They’ll stop arguing when Yoongi finally-”

Taehyung was cut off as Yoongi swipes three fingers worth of frosting from the cake and lathers it all over Taehyung’s face.

“You talk too much,” Yoongi shakes his head and soon chaos descended. Cake flew in places it shouldn’t have and ended when Namjoon knocked over a glass of water, managing to break it on the floor tiles. In the end, no one got cake.

Yoongi and you were laughing amongst yourselves at the kitchen sink, washing off some of the bits that got onto your shirts.

“I’m so sorry about your cake,” you say through your chuckles. “I’ll make it up to you some time.”

Yoongi only smiles.

“Yeah, you can treat me on a date,” he replies a little too boldly. You look at him in shock, not quite processing his words.

“A date?”

He nods.

“We should go out sometime.”

You purse your lips to prevent the huge grin about to be displayed on your face.

“We should.”

—

Present

It was subtle, the way it all started. You trace over the features you drew so far, only getting to his eyes. Yoongi and you were innocent lovers for a while, keeping your trysts a secret from everyone in the company except his managers and the members. A few of your friends knew, but none of them knew BTS well enough to be all that surprised. It wasn’t all that rare to go out with a celebrity in your line of work.

You almost miss those days when he was unrecognizable. After your friends realized who he was after he hit it big globally, you felt like a secret of yours was displayed to them. Your love was supposed to be private, but his fame left very little room for privacy. You missed when you were the only one that knew of him and maybe it’s selfish to think that way, but you were past the point of being selfish.

You text back.

yeah, can't wait to see you

—

Jan. 2015

Yoongi lays you down on the couch gently. His hands caressing your sides underneath the thin material of your shirt as he pulls you in closer to his kisses. This felt different from other nights, different in that there was nothing around to stop what would come next.

He pulls away from you slightly, panting from the lack of oxygen.

“Are you sure?” he asks, drawing circles on your hip with his thumb. He was only supposed to come over to help you unpack some stuff for your new apartment and here you were, pinned on the couch and sweating from the close contact.

You nod back in response, not finding the right words to get him to continue. He pulls your shirt over your head, peppering kisses on your neck and atop your breasts. He fixates on your neck languidly, biting as he sees fits.

There was a pause as you felt him press up against you and you knew then that there was no making it to the bed. You would have your first time with him on this newly moved-in couch.

The clothes dropped to the ground as his touches get more impatient, more desperate. It all passes by like a blur and you could only remember the pleasure that came with his long fingers, the satisfaction you felt when he was inside you. The climax of it all made you realize that you loved him, truly and without regret. He holds you in his arms when you come undone, flashing a satiated smile as you look up at him. It’s like the stars were in his eyes.

“How do you feel?” you ask him, worried he was already drowsy. You didn’t want to have to sleep on the couch naked.

“Satisfied,” he says with a smile on his face.

You can’t help but swoon, his eyes fixated on you. At least for now, he was yours He wasn’t Suga, a rapper. He was Yoongi, your boyfriend.

It didn't matter to you that he was struggling to make a name for himself in this cut-throat idol industry or that he would spend countless nights cursing as one of his numerous tracks get rejected. None of that was in your mind. Only he swam through your thoughts. Only him.

“I love you,” he sighs out. He was the first to say it.

“I love you too,” you reply back and he holds you tight against him.

He’s nuzzling himself in your hair, his chest pressed up against you so his heartbeat can synch with yours. He loves this, can’t get enough of it. He catches your lips and once again you are whisked in the pleasure of it all. This is it. This is what love is.

—

Present

The piece is finally finished and you send it off to your client, hoping she doesn’t ask for revisions because you can’t handle another second of drawing his stupid face. His soft skin, his tiny moles, his gummy smile...

It's not like you hate him. It’s just... a certain contempt lingers after a breakup from a long-term relationship. It’s the type of resentment that can’t really be explained. You don’t want to see him, but you catch yourself watching his videos on Youtube. You don’t want to think about him, but you hope he thinks about you. You don’t see yourself ever getting back together with him, but you don’t have his phone number blocked.

It’s a sort of paradox you catch yourself in and you wonder if you could ever get out of it. Will Yoongi ever escape your mind?

can't wait to see u too babe

—

Aug. 2016

Yoongi hugs you from behind, his face scrunched at the nape of your neck where several marks were made from last night’s events. Your eyes stayed focus on the TV in front of you, still impressed by your own ability to afford one in your bedroom at your salary.

“BTS' SUGA drops new music video for his song and mixtape Agust D...”

The news anchor drones on and you could barely hear her through the sounds of Yoongi’s soft snores. His hold on you grew tighter as he hears his stage name from an unfamiliar voice and it makes you giggle slightly at how different the edgy music video being displayed was from the same person wrapping you in his arms so tightly.

“Babe, wake up. I have work to do,” you whisper into his hair and he only shakes his head back in response.

“No,” he mutters, pulling you into him closer. You roll your eyes, managing to pry off one of his hands as you sit up on the bed.

“Don’t you have studio stuff to do today?” you ask him, searching for a shirt to wear.

He shakes his head as his eyes start to flutter open. You both reeked of alcohol since you opened a bottle of wine last night to celebrate the release of his first solo work. He was proud of it and you were proud of him.

“Can you turn that off, I’m getting a migraine,” he whines, covering his head with a pillow. You opted to wear Yoongi’s shirt instead of your own since you couldn’t be bothered to walk to the other side of the bed to find it. You smiled at his laying figure, cooped in a fetal-like position. He was still naked, but you were with him long enough to no longer be phased by that sort of thing.

“From one bottle of wine?” you tease slightly. “I think you’re losing your touch, Agust D.”

You chuckle as he throws the pillow on top of his head towards you.

“Don’t call me that,” he pouts, “It feels like you’re making fun of me.”

You stand up from where you were, stretching out your back as you make your way to the door.

“That’s because I am,” you smirk, “You know you’re saved on my phone as Sugar?”

He gives you a glare.

“It’s Suga,” he says, attempting to add some intimidation to his voice. It doesn’t work because all you do is stick your tongue out at him.

“Whatever sugar.”

He chuckles lightly and watches the silhouette of your figure exit his view. Yoongi can’t help but mindlessly follow after you.

As you exit towards the kitchen, you can’t help but hear the television from the bedroom.

“Suga has recently been caught up in a dating scandal with Suran, the solo artist, who sang with him in a song...”

Your head snaps up from those words, your skin crawling with goosebumps. You make it into the kitchen but with a heavy heart and no appetite.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, passing by you to pour himself some water.

“Nothing,” you say, though you sounded bitter. He caught on quite quickly. You were jealous again.

Yoongi heaves out a deep sigh and sets the glass of water down. He comes over to your angry figure and gives you a soft hug, laying his head on top of yours as if to comfort you. You try to pull away but he keeps you close.

“I’ll tell them to drop the rumors, okay?,” he says, genuinely enough to make you believe him. “I don’t want us to fight so early in the morning.”

“You promise?”

He pulls away.

“I promise,” he says, brushing a hair away from your face. “Let’s not think about those rumors right now. You and me both know they’re not true.”

You were never one to forget so easily.

—

It was around 2016 when you had stopped working at Big Hit. They halted the Hip Hop Monster brand and your contract was expiring with them anyway. You went from living a kush office life to struggling freelance worker in a matter of a second. It also meant that Yoongi and you would be spending less time together. His busy schedules couldn’t permit him to stay with you longer than a few hours and his presence slowly started to disappear from his side of the bed.

It was like a sinking ship, what you had with him. The pain starts off slow, unnoticeable. You’ll still laugh and keep up appearances as time passes, but you could tell there was an ominous atmosphere that wasn’t initially there in the relationship. Your screams start to grow silent as more problems start to stack on top of each other. It’s then when you hit the iceberg. It’s then when it all starts to fall apart.

He was still good for you, you convinced yourself, even as the currents swept you out under your feet.

—

Dec. 2016

“What the fuck do you mean you’re not coming?” you yell through your phone. You were sitting on the floor of your living room, holiday decorations strewn around the apartment. He promised he’d come spend a day off of his winter promotions to be with you.

“You know how hectic the end of the year gets with promotions,” he says in quiet hushes. “I can’t do anything about it. This is my job.”

You suck in your cheeks to prevent yourself from yelling. From the sound of it, he was in public.

“Yoongi, I called out of talking to a really high-paying client,” you say through gritted teeth. “And I still came home. Why am I the only one making sacrifices?”

He sighed at the other end. He didn’t have the patience to deal with you today.

“Look, can you stop being so fucking needy. I don’t need this right now.”

He couldn’t tell from the phone call, but your heart broke at the word. Needy. He thought that you were needy.

“I’m already stressed out as it is,” he continues through the phone. “I don’t need you up my ass all the time.”

“I’m not gonna wait for you,” you reply, tears threatening to spill over. “I’m going to sleep and you’re gonna get rid of all the shit you have in my apartment. I’m sick of you, Yoongi.”

He scoffs.

“I’m sick of you too.”

Yoongi hangs up, about ready to hit the wall when Jimin comes to calm him down. Small things that were never meant to be taken seriously built up until it was ready to crash down.

When Yoongi comes at night to visit you, he sees that you’re asleep on the couch. He sits next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry baby,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll do better.”

You nuzzled closer to him, comforted by words you forget the next day. Even when you woke up with a bad neck and Yoongi snoring onto your skin, you couldn’t find a way to stay mad at him. You knew, deep down, that some way or the other you’re gonna find yourself arguing about the same thing next week.

—

Present

Junghoon comes to pick you up. Junghoon, your boyfriend.

He’s a little uptight and too stern for his own good, but has a good heart and a knack of giving great gifts. You met him from working in the same industry, a 3D graphics designer for several video game companies. He was a new addition to your life, your relationship only about three months old.

You were warming up to him slowly, thankful for finally having a consistent presence in your life. He always made time for you, never used work as an excuse, and didn’t act cold just for the sake of acting cold. Junghoon was sweet in the way that Yoongi used to be when he wasn’t such a massive celebrity.

It was a relief to have someone like Junghoon in your life that didn’t walk in and out of your door without much of a thought to even say goodbye. Your life with him has been a tad bit dull, but you don’t mind all that much. Junghoon’s made you feel secure in ways that Yoongi couldn’t.

—

May 2017

“Your boyfriend is winning a whole ass award across the world and you’re having ramen with me?” Chaerin sighs. It’s typical for a best friend to judge the actions of the other.

“Yeah and?” you reply snarkily, swirling your chopstick around to find the perfect clump of noodles. “I’m not the top social artist according to Billboard, what’s it have to do with me?”

She rolls her eyes at you.

“I don’t know, you could at least watch him win the award?” she suggests. “The live stream is literally happening right now. Your boyfriend is making history and you don’t even care!”

You look at the clock on the restaurant wall. It was nearing 2 o’clock and your client meeting would be starting soon. You were in high demand as a graphic artist recently and as far as you were concerned, that was the only thing on your mind at the moment. You stare back into your bowl, suddenly losing your appetite.

“The apartment is lonely without him,” you admit sadly.

He bought one for himself and had you move in. ‘It’s easier to not get noticed by the tabloids,’ he convinced you. The modern sleekness of his penthouse was a nice change to your lifestyle, but you missed the comfiness of your small studio apartment. It was often too cold when he wasn’t around.

“You could watch it with me?” Chaerin suggested. “Yoongi’s probably so sad that his own girlfriend doesn’t even want to watch him win such a major award.”

You bite down on your chopstick harshly.

“Well he didn't even want me to come with him so I don’t wanna hear anymore about him from you.”

Chaerin squinted her eyes in your direction.

“Well I mean I get where he’s coming from. He’s still an idol, [Y/N],” she scolds. “It would be a massive risk to take you with him.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, pushing the bowl away from you.

“I’m not an idiot, Chae. It’s not like I was asking to be on the red carpet with him, I just wanted to be there waiting in the hotel room after the show. Two nights ago he suddenly backs out and says I shouldn’t come.”

Chaerin’s jaw dropped out of shock. That wasn’t what she was expecting at all.

“Did he say why?”

You stare down at your nails, your heart growing heavy as a long pause of silence takes place. It would be better to be honest, right? You shouldn’t have to pretend like everything’s okay when it clearly isn’t.

“He said he wants space,” you say, careful not to get choked up. “So I’m giving it to him.”

You clutch your thigh instinctively, remembering how Yoongi had brought that up with you just nights before. You two weren’t happy and that he needed to figure himself out before the relationship gets any worse. It’s just a break or whatever bullshit he spouted.

She scoffs.

“What is wrong with you two?” she asks, genuinely concerned. “You are not the type of person to take a break in a relationship.”

You stare bitterly into the reflection of your soup.

“I just don’t think I’ve been happy for a while,” you reply, taking a sip of your water that was left untouched for a better half of the night. “I don’t think he is either.”

—

Sept. 2017

The break lasted for months and you wondered if it was really even a break at all. It felt more like a break up if you were honest. He’d text once in a while and video call you when he was free but other than that it felt like he became a stranger, just another celebrity billboard you walked past on your way to a client’s workplace.

You’d draw sketches of him countlessly, in fear you’d forget how his face looked in real life and not through a low-quality screen. You etched every baby hair, every small blemish he’d hide with makeup. It was your method of not forgetting who the real Yoongi was because honestly, you didn’t know anymore. You didn’t know him.

Trrrringggg.

The sound of your doorbell could be heard all throughout your apartment. You stood up from where you sat on the bed, leaving the sketchbook of his face on the comforter. You weren’t expecting any visitors, but surely enough, Yoongi stood in front of you with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Hey.”

You let him in, not uttering a single word. He looks different now. His hair was black, thank god, but his face was a little softer than you were used to. You remember him being so paranoid about turning bald just a few years ago and here he was, no bald spots to be found. He looked healthy.

“It’s been a while,” you respond, hugging your arms close to your chest, uncomfortable that he was in your presence. It was his apartment technically, but you lived in it more than he did. He opted to stay in the dorm ever since he issued that idiotic break.

“I miss you,” he says in a lowly voice and you almost believe him. Almost.

You scoff.

“It seems like you’ve been having fun without me though,” you say through gritted teeth. “I thought you still wanted space?”

He shakes his head and brings his hand to touch your arm.

“No,” he swallows his saliva. “I miss you.”

You could feel his sincerity, but you can’t help but not trust him. He’s been viciously cold to you, but you find yourself pulling him closer anyway.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you threaten. “It’ll really be over then, Yoongi.”

He sighs into your hair. He loves you. He does. But he doesn’t know why it’s so hard to express it.

“I promise [Y/N]. I won’t leave.”

—

Aug. 2018

He buys you flowers, your favorite kind. It’s a small gesture, but it has you jumping into his arms all the same. It shows that he still cares somewhat. It’s been a while since he’s last shown it.

He holds you closely, appreciating the softness of your body and how you curl perfectly into him.

“I want to stay like this,” you say mindlessly, just relishing in his presence.

You’re not mad at him today and he’s not frustrated with you. It’s a high point in your relationship.

“Me too.”

His words are simple but it warms your heart nonetheless. Yoongi looks at you with twinkling eyes and for a moment you think that this could last forever and that it will last forever. You kiss him slowly and he reciprocates.

It reminds you of your first time, slow and careful- like you were the last person he’d ever want to hurt.

His love, although painful at times, was good to you when you needed it to be.

—

July 2019

Yoongi’s gone again. He’s on tour, as usual, and not giving you any updates. You were getting sick of it. The constant waiting, the constant insecurities that ate you up inside. You weren’t built to endure this kind of torture.

Suga. Suga. Suga.

It rolls off the tongue but it feels disgusting coming out of your mouth. His stage name, a persona. He starts to resemble that name more and more as the days go by. You hear it so much now that it no longer registers as an actual word.

You call him.

He doesn’t pick up.

Again.

No answer.

You’re about ready to throw the phone at the wall until a soft ring was heard from the small device. You take the call immediately, smiling as if you passed the hardest difficulty of a video game. The grin would soon be wiped away, though.

“Why’d you call?” he grumbles from the other line, loud music blasting in the background.

“Why weren’t you picking up?” You sound bitter. You don’t care.

“I’m out right now,” he says, exasperation laced in his voice. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

Clearly, he just wasn’t in the mood to talk to you. Yoongi was at a party or a club or wherever he could possibly be in the streets of Shizuoka at 10 p.m.

You just wanted to chat, check on him as a good girlfriend would. He’s been complaining that you haven’t been in a while. You thought this was what he wanted- for you to care.

“I just wanted to see if you were doing okay,” you sigh. “How’d the concert go?”

“Good,” he says, clearly distracted. “Some of us snuck out of the hotel rooms to let loose for a bit.”

You nod as if he could see you.

“So you’re partying?”

You could hear him laugh at the other end, but it wasn’t from your comment. Someone else was making him laugh. Someone with a light and dainty voice, whiny as she got closer to Yoongi.

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that,” he says, clearly distracted. “Listen I’ll call you back, okay?”

You feel a lump stuck in your throat. There are no words left to say. The foreign girl on the other end giggled harder at whatever Yoongi was saying and it felt like you were invading their privacy- as if she was his girlfriend and you were nothing. You hung up, your mouth feeling dry as the tears poured down.

You see a text from Yoongi just a few seconds into your wallowing. You sniffle as you read it.

don’t misunderstand. nothing’s happening rn i'm just having a bit of fun.

This time you really threw your phone at the wall.

You go to your iPad that’s sitting untouched on your desk. You open your drawing app and just let the anger in the stylus take you from there. You draw a rough sketch of a couple on the edge of a beachside cliff. The woman seems to be falling into the water as if she was pushed. The guy’s hand reaches out to her, but you can’t really tell if he was trying to grab her or if he was the one that let her go in the first place.

As the tears spilled onto the cool surface of the iPad, you sob harder. Nothing could be fixed and everything still felt broken. It was meaningless, sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothes when he was all the way in Japan snuggling up to girls that were probably much prettier and much more willing to understand his lifestyle.

You look around the penthouse he had bought for the two of you, beautiful wide panel windows and modern furniture. It mostly looks empty, everything nice and tidy as if no one lived here. It had such a stark contrast to that of his old life when he shared rooms with other members and had no place to really put his keyboard except the studio. You smiled at the memory of you all hovering around the small coffee table in the cramped living room eating ramen.

Maybe it was your fault for falling behind, for letting the world around you build up and not follow in Yoongi’s tracks.

—

Present

You guess it was then when the relationship had passed a point of no return. When everything that felt right had started to feel incredibly wrong. You tolerated his presence rather than bask in it. You heard him speak but couldn’t bother to listen. Maybe you were petty, but more than anything you were angry.

You were angry that he could break you that badly and you would still forgive him for it.

You stare over at Junghoon who’s cooking you up something on the stove. This is what you needed.

—

Nov. 2019

Yoongi was back from some big-name award show that you didn’t watch. You heard he won Artist of the Year or whatever, the accolades that he’s collected no longer having meaning as the days pass. Why be happy for him when he himself showed no signs of excitement? This was routine. He expected the awards at this point.

You walked towards him. Yoongi looked angry, though you have no idea why.

“Hey, I made dinner to celebrate,” you tell him. Yoongi’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through the congratulatory messages he received from other industry stars. He looked like he needed to get something off his chest.

“I’m not hungry,” he mutters. “Just leave it.”

“Are you sure?”

He scoffs. It was a simple question.

“Not in the mood.”

You give him a pointed look and sit next to him.

“Why are you never in the mood for anything?” you ask him. “It’s just food Yoongi. I just want to eat with you.”

You don’t see it properly but he rolls his eyes.

“Just drop it okay? Today’s a good day, I don’t need you to ruin it.”

You suck in your cheeks.

“Ruin?”

Yoongi sighs heavily.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he starts, facing you. “Why do you have to be so dramatic over everything.”

You grit your teeth.

“Dramatic?” your voice quivers. “I didn’t know feeling hurt was being dramatic.”

His gaze softens and he touches your arm lightly.

“Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

You shake your head, feeling your eyes dampen at his words.

“I hate your apologies, Yoongi,” you say in a hushed tone. “They don’t mean anything anymore.”

He’s shocked, not really sure how to respond. You were never one to confront him, especially when he was angry. Instead, he holds your hand softly. He was terrible at comforting people.

“Yoongi are you really sorry?” you ask abruptly. It was a question you’ve been meaning to ask for years now.

His grip on you tightened and you can’t quite read his expression, but you can tell that it’s not a positive response. He looks conflicted and he shouldn’t have to be if he really was. You force him to let go of you.

“I am,” he says, knowing he answered a little too late for his words to not seem suspicious.

“I don’t think you are,” you reply sadly. “You say sorry more than you-”

say I love you.

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence because he knows. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“I am,” he says with more sincerity, but he looks at you with an unreadable expression. “I just don’t think it’s enough at this point.”

“What’s not enough?”

You were confused. Is he still talking about whether he's apologetic or not? Or is it something entirely different?

“I do love you,” he says with a certain conviction in his voice, “and I always will, but it feels like nothing’s working out.”

Yoongi doesn’t look at you and focuses on the leather of the fancy couch. He doesn’t say anything but you know what this means. He’s about to stand up, but you grab onto his wrist.

“This is your apartment,” you say before he could say anything to break your heart even further. “I’ll leave.”

“[Y/N], no,” he says. “You don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m just gonna stay over at the dorm. I just...”

Your eyes get blurry from the tears. Even now it felt like he was looking down at you. Nowhere to go. It was like he pitied you.

“...need to go clear my mind,” he finishes the sentence, standing up to grab his coat.

You shake your head and stand in front of him. He’s usually like this. A coward. A bumbling fool who would rather avoid problems than face them head on.

“I need you to stay, Yoongi,” you cry out. “I need you to actually stay for once and comfort me.”

He looks at you, mouth open but no words come out. He smiles sadly and walks toward you, kissing your cheek.

“I don’t think I can do that anymore, [Y/N],” he says and you watch him leave as easily as he walked in.

It’s not like he ever comforted you in the first place.

—

The break up happened silently over a late-night phone call a few days after he disappeared on you. You packed up your things, stayed over at Chaerin’s house, and braced yourself for what was to come. It should’ve happened sooner, you admit, but your heart still sinks when he speaks.

“I just don’t think either of us is willing to try anymore,” he says solemnly. “We’ve been on and off for the past few years and I don’t think it’s healthy for either of us to continue.”

You agree, just wanting the call to end quickly so you wouldn’t have to hear his voice any longer. It hurt to have to listen to him rationalize breaking your heart.

“I don’t think we should be together anymore, [Y/N],” he says, not even a tiny bit choked up. “I think we’ve... outgrown each other.”

You knew what Yoongi really meant. He’s outgrown you.

“I think so too,” you say rigidly. Short and simple. You left nothing to be desired. “Let’s break up.”

Yoongi looks at his phone, slightly disappointed. He wished you would fight back, maybe rekindle something in him that he’s lost over the years. Yet you were silent on the line and he just had to accept it- that there was nothing left to be saved.

“Take care, okay?” he says softly because in the end he still cares- he just doesn’t want to anymore.

“I will,” you reply, ultimately hanging up the phone. You collapse onto a bed unfamiliar to you. Yoongi would no longer sleep beside you, no longer reach over to hug your side and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He was gone and you had to accept that maybe he was never yours in the first place.

His last words replay in your mind.

Take care.

That was the most concern he’s ever shown you in the past few weeks. You almost scoff at the absurdity of it all. You don’t notice how truly broken you were until the tears start streaming down your face. You see the image of him through blurry eyes and you wonder how you could let Yoongi leave such a permanent scar on your heart.

—

Present

“Do you like your eggs runny or no?”

Junghoon asks as you approach his figure. You hug him from behind and smile at his warmth. Safe.

“Just a little runny,” you reply.

He smiles and nods, turning off the heat and grabbing some seasoning from your cupboard. You detach yourself from him when you realized what he was grabbing.

“Babe that’s not salt. That’s-”

Sugar.

You stop yourself from saying it and Junghoon looks at you with concern. He chuckles at your stoic state and ruffles your hair.

“Cat got your tongue or what?” he asks, grabbing the right container this time. “Maybe I should’ve asked if you like your eggs sweet instead, huh?”

“I’ve never tried that combination before,” you say teasingly. “Why don’t you test it out for us.”

He clicks his tongue at you and splashes some salt on your face.

“I’ll pour sugar all over you if that’s what you really want.”

You laugh half-heartedly. A simple word shouldn’t affect you this much but you find yourself get more teary-eyed as it repeats in your head. It wasn’t fair to Junghoon that you were thinking of your ex in his presence. It wasn’t fair to you either.

You feel a vibration from your pocket and you pull it out to serve as a distraction from your wallowing thoughts. It’s a text.

From Sugar.

—

A/N: This was so hard to write because my mind has just been empty these days but I’m so glad it’s done now >_< Thank you to @minyoongail for requesting this story. I’ve been bumping to the Taylor Swift song now because of this commissions T^T I recommend you all to listen to it. I tried to write this in a different style from my other works so I hope this is still readable for you all LOL

I’m closing commissions temporarily to focus on the ones I have now and to also start writing my own stuff. Let me know how you feel about this, I appreciate all types of comments and criticisms <3 Look forward to Part 2!

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

Text

Perfect Opposites, chapter two

Rating: General Audiences

Read it on AO3

Tagging @today-in-fic

You all requested a chapter two, so here it is

I couldn’t forget it if I tried. I’ve turned it over in my memory so many times by now that it comes back to me like a well trained muscle repeating a familiar movement. There were a lot of little moments before that, but this one in particular stands out because it was the first one where I realized that he felt the same way I did.

We were an odd pairing from the start; he a pragmatic, analytical planner and me an idealistic, carefree dreamer. He used to call me a “loose cannon” and at first it was truly meant as an insult, said in a moment of frustration, but over time it became a term of endearment. That first day we worked together, I immediately noticed how handsome he was, tall and blonde with a square jaw and slim hips. He was so stoic, and my attempts to get to know him were met with one-word answers and pleas to focus on our assignment. I knew that I wasn’t bad-looking, and in fact I was quite used to men responding to me readily, so it felt like a fun challenge to try and crack his shell. I wasn’t trying to sleep with him; I was smart enough to know what that would do to my reputation. I was one of the first dozen female field agents to serve and I wasn’t about to blow it for all the others by hopping right into bed with my partner. But I was intrigued by his guarded demeanor, and the more he resisted me the more I wanted to know him. He insisted on calling me Rogers, even though I asked him repeatedly to call me Bridget. At first I called him Harry, but then I started calling him Hansen just to make a point and it stuck. It became a dance; I would tease and flirt with him, he would ignore my advances while we worked a case, and every once in a while he would give me a little something. First, it was little jokes, told so dryly that I had to look for the barely-there smirk on his lips to be sure he was intentionally being funny. Getting him to smile was a game in and of itself, but when I got one it was like magic. He was so beautiful when he smiled, and it became a drug I was always seeking. Over time, little by little, he started to trust me, and confide in me. He turned off the AM radio on our long drives and talked to me, not just about work.

One day he turned to me while we were driving, smiling about some stupid program he’d seen on TV the night before, and I realized that I was in love with him. I can’t say now when that happened, exactly, but in that moment I knew it, and that started the years of pushing it down, of going out with other men and pretending that he wasn’t the only one I wanted. It was so hard and heartbreaking, and I thought about asking to be reassigned dozens of times, but I couldn’t give up on the chance to be near him every day. As different as we were, he complimented me so perfectly that he became my equilibrium, the thing that grounded me to the place I was in space and time. I didn’t know how to exist without him. I was faced with an impossible choice; leave the bureau and try to have a happy life without the other half of my heart, or stay and resign to a life of pining for him across the console of our rental car. Of course there really wasn’t a choice. I could no sooner have left him than I could have chosen not to breathe anymore.

I’ve thought about that September night so many times, I can still remember the way his gingham table cloth felt under my fingertips as I nervously traced its pattern, waiting for the news I had been dreading for the last three years. He’d been seeing someone, and I just knew he was going to tell me it was getting serious, that they were getting engaged. I was afraid that I would cry, and he would ask me why, and then he’d know. He was sitting close, closer than most people would to their coworker, but that’s how we were. And he was telling me about this woman, Donna, and I felt so sick.

“I broke it off with her” he had said, and I looked at him, confused. “It just wasn’t right, Rogers. She’s a nice lady, but it just…it didn’t feel right. She’s not the one.”

I was so flooded with relief that I actually did start crying, and of course he was confused. Why would I be crying because he broke up with his girlfriend? He knelt down in front of me, and he held my hands in his, and he was just so sweet. He was always so sweet with me.

“Rogers, what’s wrong? Are you upset about Donna?”

I didn’t know what else to say, or how else to explain it, so I just nodded.

“I know we seemed like a good match, but she’s not the one. She’s the kind of person I always thought I’d end up with, but I’m realizing that I was wrong about what I wanted. About who I wanted.”

I looked at him then, at his crystal blue eyes. It felt like he was looking straight into my soul. He was searching my face like he was looking for an answer, but didn’t know what the question was.

“Bridget, have you ever just realized all of a sudden that everything you thought you knew was wrong?”

He called me by my first name. I nodded, and I thought of that moment in the car. And he was still looking all over my face, and at my mouth, and it felt like we were suspended in space, adrift in a moment that could never go forward or backward. Stuck until we made a choice. We had to make a choice.

He kissed me then, so softly, and we returned to Earth together, having found new ground. Having found each other. Even though we’d worked together and been best friends for 8 years, something entirely new was born that night, and we spent the next 20 years making up for the 8 we had wasted.

I was thinking about this at my retirement party, while the other agents ate grocery store cake and politely looked at photos of my grandchildren. When Agents Mulder and Scully walked in, I couldn’t suppress my smile. Agent Scully walked over to me with a secret smile on her lips, one she always sent my way when we were in the same room together. We had never spoken of our conversation in the bathroom last year, but she always went out of her way to say hi to me.

“Agent Hansen, congratulations” she said warmly, taking my hand in what felt more like a hand-hug than a handshake.

“Thank you, Agent Scully. I look forward to spending more time with my grandchildren.”

Agent Mulder walked up then. He sure was a handsome man, and somehow seemed to get better looking as the years went by.

“Agent Hansen, the time has come!” He said jovially. “I only wish Harry could be here retiring alongside you, he would have loved this little shindig.” There was heavy sarcasm in his tone; he knew Harry would have hated the fuss.

“You knew Harry Hansen?” Agent Scully asked him with genuine surprise.

“Of course, we worked together in VCU. I liked to give him a hard time. He reminded me a lot of you, actually” he said to Agent Scully with a gentle nudge of his elbow to her ribs.

“Sounds like he was a great guy” she joked, then “we have to catch a flight out for a case, Agent Hansen, but I wanted to come by and say goodbye. It’s been such a pleasure working with you.”

Agent Mulder looked at her a little quizzically, but I understood the meaning behind what she was saying. I shook her hand again, and held it in a little squeeze.

“I hope you’ll remember what I said” I told her, and she nodded once before they turned to leave. I was happy to be retiring, but I would miss watching them together and would always wonder if they ever found their way to each other.

A few months later, I was at the 7-11 picking up donuts for my grandsons when I heard a familiar voice in the next aisle. It was Agent Mulder, on his cell phone.

“Hey, sleepy head… It’s after 9, that’s hardly early… Well what were you doing staying up so late last night?” He chuckled, and the innuendo was clear even from the bit of the conversation I could hear. I felt sadness tug at my heart thinking that he was seeing someone, and how Agent Scully must feel. I knew exactly how she’d feel.

“We’ll I’m getting you breakfast now, and coffee, so hopefully that helps…I was thinking we could go to Annapolis tonight, there’s one of those movie in the park things, we could stop by and see your mom first…because no one in Annapolis knows us, so maybe you’ll actually be willing to be seen in public with me…you know what I mean, outside of work”

I couldn’t help but smile from my hiding spot behind the donut case. He was talking to Agent Scully.

“…well, think about and you can decide later….yes, I’ll be back in 15 minutes, go back to sleep if you want…Love you, bye.”

He paid and left, and an idea started cooking in my head. Annapolis wasn’t that far of a drive, and I didn’t exactly have an active social calendar. I just wanted to see them together again, one more time.

My plan had been to get there early so I’d be sure to catch them as they arrived, but through a combination of traffic, my own poor navigation skills (that had always been Harry’s strong suit) and lack of parking, I walked in to a full lawn and the previews already starting. Thankfully, her red hair was easy to spot and I found a place for my blanket just a few feet behind them. It was a little too close, and made the odds they would see and recognize me higher than I would have liked, but soon enough it was clear that it wouldn’t be an issue. They were in their very own universe, bordered by the ugly brown Aztec blanket they sat on. Agent Mulder was reclined against a cooler with Agent Scully between his legs, leaning against his torso like an Adirondack chair, his arms wrapped around her. He whispered in her ear and kissed her neck as she giggled. They looked more like two teenagers on a date than two federal agents and it reminded me of so many nights Harry and I snuck off for dates in some forgettable city after wrapping up a case, freed from the risk that someone from the bureau would see us together and report our relationship. Those were some of the most exciting times in my life, and watching them now…I felt the tears bubbling up in my eyes. They were happy tears, full of memories and love and hope. Full of the promise of a relationship forged in fire and turmoil, sealed by dedication and hard work. I knew I’d have to go visit Harry the next day and tell him all about it, and remember with him how clumsy and awkward we were in the beginning, peeling each other’s armor away slowly until it was just us, unguarded and vulnerable and the most seen we had ever been by another person, or ever would be again.

By the end of the movie, they were spooned together under the stars, the relative darkness allowing for a kind of public intimacy that would normally be out of place. She had fallen asleep, and Agent Mulder was watching her, tracing a finger along the shell of her ear before placing a kiss to her temple. He sighed and I could hear him whisper to no one in particular “my perfect opposite.”

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #xf fanfic

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lucalewds · 3 years

Text

Only You (Sun Wukong x OC) [NSFW]

Prompt: “You’re so cute when you blush like that~!”

This is also an AU where Sun Wukong doesn’t get rid of his mask. It’s too pretty. He’s pretty too but that mask... how could you just get rid of it...

Also GAY SMUT HAPPENS. Not explicit, it’s vanilla stuff mostly so don’t expect heavy smut.

—————————

Jìngyi cleaned off the last table in the bar, taking the shot glasses and plates from it and putting them in a sink in the kitchen. He exhaled in relief knowing his shift was finally over. He took his apron off, hanging it up on a hook next to the exit.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” Jìngyi called out to his coworkers before grabbing his stuff and heading towards the door.

He opened it, relieved to finally leave his stupid and exhausting job and relax—

“Jìngyi~!” A man in a golden mask said cheerfully, startling Jìngyi.

“AAAH!!” He yelped, tripping over his own feet and falling over onto the wet concrete.

“Hey, everything okay out there?” A coworker asked, leaning back to look at the door.

Jìngyi stood up, looking at the man who startled up. It was Sun Wukong. It was always him. Jìngyi huffed, picking himself up.

“I’m fine! I saw a rat. An ugly one.” He shouted back, giving Wukong an annoyed look.

He couldnt see it, but Wukong was obviously chuckling quietly underneath his mask.

“We need to do something about that.” The coworker said before going back to what he was doing.

Jìngyi shut the door before lightly hitting Wukong in the arm. “Don’t do that!”

Wukong laughed. His laugh always made Jìngyi smile which wasn’t helpful when he tried to be upset with him.

“Sorry sorry! It’s just too easy.” Wukong replied.

Jìngyi rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a small smile. He started walking, Wukong right next to him.

“Going home?” Wukong asked, walking backwards to talk face to face.

“I was but I’m guessing you want me to come over again.” Jìngyi replied.

Wukong gasped. “How’d you know?”

“I know you so well.”

“Sooooo...?”

“... Fine. But I can’t be up too late. I still have work tomorrow.”

—————————

“Drink?” Wukong asked, holding up a bottle of god knows what up.

“Ugh, please.” Jìngyi replied.

Wukong smiled, pouring two glasses and climbing down to sit next to him on the couch.

“How was work?”

Jìngyi looked at him, knowing his question wasn’t serious. He sighed and took one of the drinks.

“My boss had a whole tantrum AGAIN,” he explained before taking a sip of his drink, wincing at he strong taste. “All of us where doing our job, I was cleaning tables as usual and suddenly, he slapped the tray I was holding out of my hand and started SCREAMING at me!”

“Yikes...” Wukong mumbled.

“I know. I just don’t understand...”

“You could always—“

“I’m not quitting.” Jìngyi gave him a stern look.

Wukong held his hands up. “I didn’t say that!”

“You were going to.”

“... yeah.” He chuckled.

Jìngyi sighed, running his hand through his black hair. “You always suggest that I quit...”

“Because I take care of you.”

“You give me money.”

“More than your job does...” Wukong mumbled in a sing-song voice. “Plus, I don’t ONLY give you money. Sheesh, you talk like I use you like a toy.”

“I know I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.” Jìngyi leaned back, taking another sip of his drink.

A long silence took over the entire room as the two silently drank. Wukong looked over at Jìngyi who was very obviously tense and stressed from his work. Wukong smiled before putting his drink down and scooting closer to him.

“C’mon, I invited you over to have fun. Not make yourself more upset.”

“I know,” Jìngyi sighed, putting down his drink. “Sorry... I know you’re trying your best to make me happy...”

“Don’t be sorry. But just for tonight at least, relax and have fun...” Wukong wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close. Jìngyi felt his other hand move up his body slowly and almost discreetly.

Jìngyi shivered a bit, chuckling softly as his face turned a bright red.

“Oh, I see what you’re doing...” Jìngyi said with a knowing smile.

“What do you mean?” Wukong said, tilting his head.

Jìngyi shook his head. “Look, if you’re gonna seduce me, you better take that mask off first.

Wukong nodded, pulling away and taking off his mask. He placed it on the table in front of them as Jìngyi looked at him lovingly.

Once Wukong noticed the look on his face, he chuckled and pulled him close.

“You’re blushing!” he said teasingly.

“Am I?” Jìngyi replied, wrapping his arms over his partner’s shoulders.

“Mhm! You’re so cute when you blush like that...~!”

Jìngyi chuckled, leaning closer to his partner. Wukong held his waist gently, pulling him close.

“Are you going to kiss me already?” Jìngyi asked teasingly.

“I’m going to do way more than that, my love...~”

“Then why not get to the point, huh~?”

Jìngyi was suddenly pushed onto his back. He let out a grunt before Wukong leaned down to kiss him passionately. He kissed back, wrapping his legs around Wukong’s waist. He felt Wukong’s hand trail up his body and unbutton the top of his shirt. The two pulled away for air as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt one by one. Jìngyi bit his lip as Wukong took his shirt off and stopped to admire his body.

“You’re beautiful...” he said softly.

“You always say that...”

“Because it’s true...”

Jìngyi chuckled, grabbing hold of his robe. “Your turn...~”

Wukong pulled away from him, taking off his robe as Jìngyi sat up to take off the shirt underneath. Once they were off, they went back to kissing as Wukong pulled him onto his lap.

“You’re already so hard...~” He whispered in his ear as he went to kiss his neck. Jìngyi giggled, grinding against him slowly. Wukong let out a low growl as he grabbed his hips, grinding roughly against him.

“Wukong... please...~” Jìngyi moaned softly.

“Please what, my love...? Speak up...~”

“Make me yours... please...~”

Wukong gently pushed him off his lap and started taking the rest of his clothes off. Jìngyi struggled to take his pants off until Wukong pulled him close and helped him. He pushed Jìngyi on his back again. He then took a moment to admire him for a few seconds.

“You’re adorable...~”

Jìngyi chuckled, blushing. “And you’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met...~”

Wukong paused for a moment, processing the compliment. No one has ever said anything like that to him before and even though Jìngyi has said this before, it still surprised him because he knew he meant it.

He quickly blinked and smiled. He leaned down, kissing his neck softly. Jìngyi smiled and let out a breathy moan. After a minute or two of preparation, the room was filled with heated moans. Wukong held Jìngyi close, leaving bites and hickeys along his body. Jìngyi gripped Wukong’s hair, holding him tightly as they made love. His legs where wrapped around Wukong’s waist, trembling as he felt himself get closer to climax.

As he got faster, Wukong whispered sweet nothings into his ear. Jìngyi felt so lucky to the the one to hear him say such gentle things.

He hardly ever said them in public for good reason. Most people aren’t accepting of a relationship like theirs. Still, Wukong promised to make it work between them both.

Jìngyi was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt that one spot get hit, making him hit his climax finally. He moaned loudly, back arching off of the couch. Wukong soon came right after him, biting his lip and letting out a low moan. They two shared a long and passionate kiss before Wukong got up and put on his robe. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up...”

Jìngyi held his hand as he stood up. He wobbled a bit, landing into his partner’s arms. Wukong chuckled, kissing him in the forehead.

“I’m guessing I did well?” He said with a small chuckle.

Jìngyi smiled and wrapped his arms around his shoulder. “Mhm... thank you...”

“You’re very welcome... anything for you.”

Jìngyi gently pulled him down by his robe and kissed him softly. He kisses back, holding him close. They both pull away slowly and go get themselves cleaned up.

—————————

Jìngyi woke up cuddled up on top of Wukong who was already awake. Jìngyi felt his hand stroke his hair gently.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty! How did you sleep?” Wukong asked.

“Pretty good... last night was fun...”

“Mhm...”

“But unfortunately, I can’t stay all day this time. I have work.”

“You’re actually late.” He smiled.

“What!? Sun Wukong, you promised to wake me!!”

“I didn’t promise. Don’t worry; I let your boss know you weren’t coming in.”

“He hates when we take sick days!”

“I know. So I threatened him if he got angry about it.”

“Sun!!”

“I’m kidding. Kinda. Anyway, you want breakfast?”

Jìngyi sighed and kissed him softly. “Yes please.”

#nezha reborn #sun wukong #sun Wukong x oc #n/sfw #dizzy writes (fanfics)

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150mloflife · 3 years

Text

What I’ve noticed

As someone who started at a much higher weight, I’d like to provide what I’ve noticed with that change. Use this information however you want. 💋

When I was at my starting weight, my jawline was nonexistent. Literally my neck and jaw just connected with lack of indifference. Now, it’s roundishly sharp and noticeable.

Coworkers have asked if I’ve dieted and compliment me in ways like “wow! You’re slimming right down!”

I have an easier time finding my style in thrift stores. I tend to be grunge/alt/whatever.

I’m being noticed by basic, white boys and I personally don’t favor this because I’m hardcore gay buttt they are pretty, popular boys. I’ve never been noticed in such ways.

At my starting weight, my collarbones were completely gone and completely hidden. They now are slightly visible. When I lose more, they will definitely come right out.

This is just a more personal one and changes per person but I am definitely more confident. I’ve started dressing my style because I feel comfortable enough to.

My skinny friend’s clothes used to not fit me at ALL. Like, I could’ve never even tried to get in them. Lately, I’ve been actually trying them on and they fit tightly.

I’ve gotten less weight comments. Used to, people were nice and casual but would slyly put in stupid statements like “oh you can wear my hoodie, I think it’s oversized enough for you” and that just stopped. I haven’t heard any random remarks in a bit.

Clothes look really good on me. I think that’s why I’m confident. I used to always wear something and take it off immediately because I felt that it looked bad but I’ve been wearing whatever I’ve wanted recently.

A few close friends have definitely noticed that I may be sick. They haven’t said anything but I can totally catch the worry and confusion in their words/expressions. I think eventually they may start getting serious.

Calories make up majority of my day. I can’t even drink something without thinking of how I’ll gain .0 something.

I miss food. I miss food so bad. I miss restaurant food. I miss greasy food. I miss fried food. Living in such a little town you really start to realize that there’s nothing to do but restaurants here. I go to hangout with someone and run dry of suggestions.

The hunger makes me so moody and I fast the longest without food at work. It really exhausts me. I grow much more irritated and restless at my workplace.

All positives can be negatives and vice versa. I try to take life with as much hope and happiness as possible. You should too. Sadness over weight ISNT worth it. Will I continue starving and losing? Yes. However, please, try to enjoy little things and life even if you suffer from an ED.

#disordered eating tw #model thin #notproforanyonejustforme #notprojustusehashtags #pro ania #thin inspo #thinsppi #thinspr0 #tw ed behavior #tw ed content #tw eating things #tw ed rant #tw ed thoughts #tw ed relapse #tw ed in the tags #tw ed mention #bullimia #bulimxa

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wellimaginethat · 4 years

Text

Personal Sunshine

Pairing: Connor Rhodes x (female) Reader

Word Count: 2027

Author’s Note: First request for Connor! Woo-hoo! Hope it’s good! I haven’t watched the old episodes of Chicago Med in so long, and I had a hard time finding clips when I was writing this, so Cornelius might be OOC and I apologize for that. I also only loosely based it on the episode, because like I said, it’s been a while since I’ve seen it.

Trigger Warning(s): Misogynistic comments, argument, bad words

Disclaimer: I don’t owe nor am I affiliated with any of the Chicago shows, I just like to play with the characters

Summary: Connor and Y/N are happily married and have been for awhile. They’re both working at Gaffney when one of his father’s employee’s comes in after getting injured. This wouldn’t really be that big of a problem if Cornelius wasn’t a complete ass to his son and daughter in law.

Y/N = Your Name

You and Conner met while you were both still in med school, it started out as a friendship but quickly turned into something more. You dated throughout school and got married when you were going through residency.

Connor admired you, although you didn’t really know why.

He admired how kind and thoughtful you always were, even when you were exhausted you still managed to smile and be friendly. He admired how smart you were, and how you were able to think on your feet faster than any other doctor he knew. He admired how you gave your all to save every patient you could, and how you didn’t stop fighting for them until the very last minute, even when everyone else was ready to throw in the towel.

He admired and loved everything about you, every strength you had, every weakness, every virtue and every flaw. He loved all your quirks. The little dance you do when you’re cooking and think no one is looking. How you sing or hum along to your favorite songs. How you get excited over the little things in life, how your eyes light up when you tell him about your hobbies or about something new you just learned, or how talkative you get when telling him about your last obsession.

He loved every little thing about you, but couldn’t figure out what you ever saw in him.

It was something that played through his mind the entire time you were dating, and had almost kept him from ever asking you out in the first place. And this little worry still nags him even though you’ve been married for a few years now. It’s not as bad as it used to be, but it still floats around in the back of his mind waiting for the slightest little thing to make him second guess everything.

You had tried to assure him, time and time again, that you loved him and that you thought he was amazing, but your words fell on deaf ears most of the time. You blamed it on his upbringing. Although you had never met his dad, the little things that Connor actually told you made your heart ache and a disdain form for the man.

That was something you never brought up, meeting his dad. It wasn’t because you didn’t love Connor, it was the opposite in fact. You loved him so much that you didn’t want to put him in the position, so you never really talked about his dad.

That is until Connor walked into the break room, steaming.

You could feel how upset he was, and even if he didn’t look upset, which he did, you always had a way of knowing. You watched him carefully, walking over to him slowly. “Babe? What’s wrong?” You asked him gently.

His eyes found yours and immediately his demeanor softened and he let out something that was between an exasperated sigh and a groan. “My father is here.” He answered briskly.

You frowned in confusion. “Why? Is he hurt or something?”

“No one of his employees is and he doesn’t want to cover the operation.” Connor answered in the same tone, with an annoyance that wasn’t aimed at you in the slightest, just at the situation. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, leaning his head back.

“Oh.” You barely said, walking over to him and running your hands up and down his biceps slowly, trying to calm him. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

His eyes found yours and you could tell that he was relaxing a bit, he gave you a small, tight smile and shook his head. “You’re doing exactly everything you can do.” He told you, the annoyance fading from his voice.

You sighed a bit and nodded. “Wish there was more I could do.” You told him.

He shook his head. “I really don’t want you near this.” He told you. “I don’t want you anywhere near him.” He clarified.

You nodded, your eyes fixed on his even though he wasn’t looking directly at you at the moment. “I’ll try to keep my distance.” You assured him. “Shouldn’t be too big of a problem, I have back to back surgeries today.”

“Well sounds like you’re in for a fun day.” Connor replied, a genuine smile forming.

“Yeah sure.” You laughed a bit, glad you were able to make him feel even slightly better.

Connor kissed your forehead tenderly before looking at you and sighing. “I have to go and try to deal with him. Good luck on your surgeries.”

You smiled gently at him. “Good luck with your dad.” You gently squeezed his arm as he pulled away from you.

You finished up your first surgery a bit early that scheduled, so that left you with enough time to get some coffee, so you did just that. However, on your way back you decided to detour through the ED to check on Connor. You were halfway through the waiting room when you were stopped by an older man.

It didn’t even dawn on you that this man could be Connor’s dad. Maybe it was because you still had your mind on the surgery you just finished, or maybe it was because you were thinking about the one you were about to start. Or maybe you just didn’t connect the dots between this guy and your husband.

You thought it was incredibly strange that this man would hit on you in the middle of the busy hospital, surrounded by people waiting to hear the status of their sick or injured loved one, but it actually wasn’t the first time. Not that it made you any less uneasy that he hit on you, but coupled with the fact that this man was old enough to be your father, you started to feel incredibly uneasy.

“Now what is a girl like you doing wasting her pretty face working in a hospital?” He had asked you.

You hadn’t even noticed he was talking to you until you turned and saw him staring, waiting for an answer. “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re so beautiful you could be a model. Or at the very least a trophy wife.” He replied like it was a compliment.

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment before shaking your head. “I beg your pardon, I happen to be one of the best pediatric surgeons, not just in Chicago, but in the Nation.” To say that you were insulted was an understatement.

“Smart girls rarely get guys, sweetheart.” He replied and the way he called you sweetheart made you blood boil. “Guys like pretty girls that don’t challenge them.”

Your eyes narrowed into a glare. “For your information, my husband adores how smart I am.” You replied snidely, unable to maintain your normal happy go lucky personality.

He seemed to be shocked, whether it was by your tone or the revelation that you were married, you weren’t sure. “Oh you’re married?”

You nodded as you tried to calm down, it didn’t look good if you weren’t polite, and if any of your new coworkers saw you upset, they might get worried. You were kinda known around the hospital as the happy girl. Connor called you his own personal sunshine.

“Well he certainly is a lucky guy.” The man replied to you. “Is he a doctor too?”

You nodded again. “Yes, in fact, he is.” You smiled proudly, and that was when you spotted Connor and thought that it was the perfect way to get out of this annoying conversation. “There he is now.” You practically skipped over to him, halting just a bit when you saw the look on his face. “Babe? What’s wrong?” You asked, frowning slightly and tilting your head.

Connor looked at you and his cloudy expression was replaced with what seemed like a tired smile, whether he was actually tired or just exhausted from dealing with rude people, you didn’t know. “Nothing.” He tried to assure you, but you assumed it was still from dealing with his father.

You let it go for a second, wanting to tell him about the guy that hit on you. “Hey, you see that weird old man over there?” You asked quietly, leaning in towards him and discreetly motioning over your shoulder. “He just hit on me in the rudest way ever. Told me I’m too pretty to be a doctor and should be a trophy wife instead.” You huffed out and rolled your eyes, keeping your voice low.

Connor’s eyes trailed over to the man and his cloudy expression returned. “Do me a favor and stay away from him.” He told you, lowering his voice so only you could hear him as he continued to glare over your shoulder.

You gave him a confused look. “I was already planning on it. Why?” You stopped short, a dread settling in your bones that you knew exactly why Connor was asking you to stay away from him.

“That’s my dad.” Connor answered you in the same tone, still not looking at you.

Your eyes widened slightly from the revelation, even though you had already pieced together that, and you were about to say something when you felt someone come up behind you.

“So you got married and didn’t invite me.” Cornelius remarked.

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that.” Connor replied coldly, his body going stiff and his expression hardening.

You turned so that your back was no longer to Cornelius and so that you were beside Connor.

Connor’s arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him in an almost protective way.

“Hard to believe a pretty little thing like her would marry you.” Cornelius replied.

You felt Connor inhale sharply, about ready to reply when you butted into the conversation. “Excuse you? What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, crossing your arms.

Cornelius was taken aback by your sudden outburst.

“You come in here and think you can treat him like that? Well you can’t.” You told him, trying to find the words to say but it was becoming difficult due to how upset you were. “Connor is a great man and a great doctor and I love him so much, there’s not enough words to express how much.”

Connor was even shocked by your sudden outburst, you were usually so polite, even to the rudest people.

You couldn’t find any other words, so you huffed and took Connor’s hand, pulling him away from Cornelius, who was still trying to make sense of the fact that you just stood up to him.

As soon as you were alone, you turned to Connor. “I’m sorry-” You started to apologize but were cut off by his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. You kissed him back, your arms going over his shoulders, draping them around his neck.

His hand rested at the base of your neck, the other on your waist, holding you close to him as he continued to kiss you.

You only pulled back when you needed air. You slowly opened your eyes to look at him, being met with his blue eyes gazing at you with love and adoration.

“Don’t apologize.” He breathed out, a small smile forming on his now puffy lips.

“But...but won’t this cause problems?” You asked him as you felt the worry started to settle in your mind.

Connor shook his head. “I’ll deal with it.” He assured you gently, kissing your lips once more before kissing your forehead. “Don’t worry, sunshine.” He told you before he began to walk away.

You felt your lips quirk up into a small smile and quickly grabbed for his hand. “Hey.” You said, stopping him, and waited until he looked at you to continue. “I love you.”

He smiled at you again. “I love you too.” You watched as he walked away after that, the smile he caused not leaving your face for the rest of the day, despite the fact that you were still incredibly worried about what the repercussions of your little outburst might be.

#connor rhodes x reader #connor rhodes imagine #connor rhodes imagines #chicago med imagines #chicago med imagine

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crazybagelbitch · 3 years

Note

6. “This is ridiculous, how are you not sick and I am?”

Look at me remembering that I used to write for Madney.

"This is ridiculous, how are you not sick and I am?" Maddie asks with a huff, rubbing at her cracked red nose with a tissue for maybe the seventieth time that day-- not that she's being dramatic.

"Well, considering I've pulled two 24 hour shifts in a row," he says with a sly yet sympathetic smile, "so my daughter saw more of you than she did me while she was fighting off this thing... and let us remember I offered to take off work so you wouldn't be stuck with her but nooooooooooo you said that--"

"Being a nanny means getting stuck with the hard days, too, I know what I said," she snarls, huffing again which just leads to another coughing fit.

And she had meant it, too, even if it royally sucks to have caught his two year old's cold. Being a nanny at age 35 was not her plan at night but she was too afraid to go back to work in a hospital in fear of Doug or one of his friend's strolling into the emergency room, and Buck had mentioned that his coworker was a single father looking for a nanny... and Chimney just so happened to be nice enough to pay her under the table in cash so Doug, or a private investigator should he be crazy enough for that, couldn't track her down that way. So while less than ideal considering she has a nursing degree and would much rather be using it, it's the best deal she could get considering her on the run from her abusive ex situation.

And besides, it gives her a way to sort of live out her hopeless dreams of motherhood and not feel like she's completely missed out on it since she married Doug and now is likely towards the end of her fertile window. Of course, it's not the same thing. She knows she isn't Mara's mother, but it's another best deal she's ever going to get situation.

"Look, you're not in any state to drive yourself home," Chimney sighs, "you're late and you're sick as hell. You can have my bedroom and I'll take the couch for tonight. Or better yet, I'll sleep on the floor in Mara's bedroom because now you're off the clock and sick toddler duty is once again my job."

"No, it's fine, I can drive," she says stubbornly, suddenly feeling self conscious about the redness in her face and the sweat that is probably wreaking havoc on her hair.

"Yeah, I don't want to take any chances with that," he says warily, "just take my bed for tonight, it's no big deal. It's the least you deserve for absorbing all of my two year old's germs."

"But--"

"Maddie, please? I don't want anything to happen to you."

"...Well nothing would, but I guess I can stay over if it would make you feel better."

"I'll take it," he laughs, throwing his head back and it's probably just the mild fever that she's sporting but for a moment she feels all warm inside as opposed to the chills that she's been battling all day, "now, bedtime for you, young lady."

"You're only two years older than me, don't young lady me," she protests, but she finds herself grinning back at him as she clumsily makes her way off of his couch.

"Would you rather me call you old lady?" he teases, smiling that brilliant smile of his at her-- wait, when did she start to think of it as brilliant; this cold is really messing with her head.

"How about you just call me Maddie," she says, stammering a bit which just makes Chimney cock his head at her and oh, there's that warm feeling again when she notices how well his burnt orange sweater compliments his skin tone, he looks really... no. Stop it, Maddie.

"Alright, suit yourself. Sleep well, Maddie. Wake me if you need anything, I'll probably be up most of the night anyway. It's a miracle you got my sick toddler to sleep in the first place."

"I-I won't need anything, it's just a cold and I'm 35."

"So stubborn," he laughs, and it's annoying yet somehow endearing how he's never afraid to call her out on that, hypocritical as it is given he's also one of the least likely persons to ever admit defeat, "well then, don't get me if you need anything. Just suffer, I guess."

"Idiot," she snorts, which turns into a disgustingly big sneeze and Chimney laughs his whole journey down the hall and into Mara's room.

God damn it. She'll have to think of something witty to say in the morning, when she has breakfast with Mara and her handsome father.

Stop it, Maddie.

Her fever must be higher than she thought.

#au drabbles?#my thing now apparently #madney #maddie buckley #chimney han

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hiuythn · 4 years

Note

do u have any krbk fics that u can rec? any favorites of urs! ☺️

you’re in luck bc i just made a rec list for a friend so i have this ready for you

also i’ve got over 200 krbk bookmarks on ao3 so feel free to check that out if you finish this rec list.

all (except one) of these are completed. they're in no particular order. i tried to find ones that are less known, bc idk how much you've read but i'm assuming all the popular ones are familiar to you. happy reading! 💖💖💖

Inevitable - Legendaerie - 8k - mature CLASSIC 'bkg thinks they've been together and kiri thinks he's still pining' TROPE. it's INCOMPREHENSIBLE to me why this doesn't have more fucking kudos!!! why!!!

Tiny Truths - Quirk Archivist (OneHitWondersAnonymous) - 4k - teen bkg gets de-aged. kid him reveals sth to class 1a, more imptly, to KIRI, abt some ideas about what it means to open a hero agency together. it's super adorable!!

Punch My Mouth with Your Mouth - QuestCat44 - 4k - teen bkg spars with deku more bc OfA is acting up and he's the only one in the know. kiri gets jealous but he's so good-natured that his jealousy is only bc he misses sparring/spending time with bkg. BKG, on the other hand, is worried kiri is mad for different reasons asdkjfhasdhfa

all according to keikaku........... - carolinaa - 8k - teen the title should already tell you how good this is. I LOVE JEALOUSY FICS WHEN THEY'RE MORE FUNNY THAN ANGSTY AND THIS IS SO FUNNY. kiri gets tired of deku being a pussy around todo and decides to flirt with todo to get deku jealous enough to do sth about it. bkg and todo are both horrified for VERY different reasons DHADSKDFHJS

doll me up - shizuumi151 - 6k - gen kiri gets turned into a doll by a kid's quirk and no one knows. bkg still ends up caring for him :’)

These Words Are Ours - deviance - 2k - teen soulmate au but bkg figures who's going to say his words before it happens, and honestly that's kind of the point. he's not the type to fall in love at first sight. he MAKES the choice to love kiri and that, my friends, is my kind of soulmate au.

all good things need sunshine - shizuumi151 - 3k - teen FLORIST KIRI. BKG WANTS A BOUQUET THAT SAYS 'FUCK YOU'

Flour Power - WingSongHalo - 26k - teen KRBK HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF A BAG OF FLOUR AND PRETEND IT'S THEIR BABY

feedback loop - bigstupidjellyfish - 1k - teen PRO HERO BKG GETS THROWN BACK IN TIME FOR A BIT AND MEETS MIDDLE SCHOOL KIRI AND HE'S SO SOFT TO HIM ASDFHKASDFJ. i am a big fan of bkg being a fan of kiri. i can't get ENOUGH OF IT. can someone give me more fics like this

mixed signals - bigstupidjellyfish - 2k -teen a short 'what if' fic where kiri and bkg went to the same middle school. bkg's still an ass but kiri's still his equal it seems, and is just as good as handling him as ever

Trash Goblin Finds Love - wrunic - 4k - teen COFFEE SHOP AU. BARISTA KIRI GETS SICK ONE TIME AND BKG MAKES HIM SOUP AND FORCES KIRI'S COWORKER TO DELIVER IT ASDJHFS

Dreaming of a White Mocha Christmas - let_me_wander - 8k - teen ANOTHER COFFEE SHOP AU. BARISTA KIRI AND HIS FAV CUSTOMER ;) GET SNOWED IN

Something Warm - let_me_wander - 15k - teen YES FOLKS IT'S A A A ANOTHER COFFEE SHOP FIC, THAT'S RIGHT!! BARISTA BKG THIS TIME. also kr is in a band and writes a song for bkg asdfhksjd

Kneel - deviance - 7k - explicit idk if you wanted explicit stuff but this is pretty light sub stuff, they're not even properly together at the beginning, and there isn’t sex til the end. i just liked how kiri is the only one bkg would rely on for sth this private, and it's more emotional than it is sexual?

Everyone Knows That Cats Are Independent - PurplePersnickety - 39k - teen YET. ANOTHER. COFFEE SHOP AU. but also?? daemons?? katsuki's got a lionness, and kiri has a...i'll let you find out. anyway they become closer and closer and closer and the flirting is so fucking excruciatingly obvious but cute and sdkjfhasdjs it's such a queer experience like 'is he...no he cant be...but what if he did like me - no that's not possible. but what if?' and they get so domestic sometimes i swear i'm about to puke from how cute it is. this is my fav coffee shop au ngl

Broken Bridges - DeathBelle - 68k - explicit plot fic!! krbk loses touch after gradutation. kiri comes back from korea and starts to work together with bkg, dealing with a series of murders and MAN the action is 👌 easy to follow but it hits all the beats, has that Flow. krbk being a power couple will never get old!!

Of Ghosts and other Inaccurate Things - chezka - 56k - gen pretty sure you've seen this one around but STILL. BKG FALLING FOR 'GHOST' KIRI IS BEST. this au really takes FULL COMPLETE advantage of the fact that krbk CANNOT TOUCH and the yearning practically astral-projected me back into the my past life when i was a dung beetle that got crushed under the foot of an elephant. it hurt, basically. but it hurt so good. JUST LET BKG HUG KIRI!!! happy ending ofc.

Catching Bees - MonocerosRex - 2k - teen bkg has to pay his classmates compliments. class 1a hijinks. the krbk in this is short but it made me squeal sdhfkakjl

i'm going to the forest to kick my own ass - WannabeMarySue - 5k - teen TODO PRANKS BKG BUT UNLUCKY FOR HIM BKG IS COMPETITIVE AND ACTUALLY LEARNS SOMETHING

Hair Care 101 - overlymetaromantic - 7k - gen ASDHFASDFHAJKS KIRI MEETS BKG'S MOM BY ACCIDENT AND GETS HAIR HELP AND THEY TALK ABOUT BKG AND IT'S SO. CUTE. AND THEN BKG DYES KR'S HAIR IN THE SECOND CHAPTER AND THEY'RE SO BLUSHY AND SWEET I CAN'T!!

Sometimes We Fall in the Dark - timetoboldlygo - 16k - teen BKG TAKING PHOTOS OF THINGS FOR THERAPY. YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY ABOUT HOW YOU PHOTOGRAPH THINGS YOU TREASURE 👀👀👀

Corn Chip - smol_bird - 23k - teen I DONT FUCKIGN KNOW WHY THIS DOESN'T HAVE MORE KUDOS. IT'S LITERALLY SO GOOD. DEMON KIRI IS JOKINGLY SUMMONED BY BKG AND FRIENDS. THEY FALL IN LOVE. KIRI HAS TO LEAVE. BKG IS DETERMINED NOT TO LET THAT HAPPEN. HAPPY ENDING. WHAT ELSE COULD YOU ASK FOR

'cause i love you for infinity - multiclassmaps - 23k - teen SDHFADSJFASD DEMON AU AGAIN. THIS TIME IT'S KIRI THAT DOES THE SUMMONING. BUT WHY DOES BKG SEEM SO FAMILIAR??? WHAT CAN KIRI DO TO MAKE HIM STAY??

to the beat of your heart - drifting_i - 8k - gen BAND AU. KIRI WORKS AT A RESTAURANT AND SOMEHOW BEFRIENDS DRUMMER BKG AND BKG'S BAND CAN'T BELIEVE THAT KIRI GETS AWAY WITH HALF THE SHIT BKG ALLOWS HIM TO

Playing Favorites - vaporeon_ninja - 2k - gen AKSDJFHJADHFKA BKG GETS CALLED OUT ON HIS KIRI FAVOURITISM

(Not Quite) Proposal - imatrisarahtops - 783 - teen DRUNK BKG IS SAPPY WITH HIS BOYF

something worth remembering - bbuggs - 1k - teen DRUNK BKG AGAIN!!! THIS TIME HE DOESN'T REMEMBER KIRI IS HIS HUSBAND AND HE'S SO DISTRAUGHT ABOUT KIRI BEING TAKEN SDFJHSK

A Dragon's Hoard - chezka - 10k - teen kiri gets turned into a dragon bc of a quirk. LOVE HOW DRAGON KIRI STILL LIKES BKG BEST

Love Notes - PurplePersnickety - 5k - teen LOVE NOTES BKG LEAVES LOVE NOTES FOR KIRI IT'S SO SWEET

Define: Oblivious - PurplePersnickety - 45k - teen this is the second part to Love Notes, it's still updating BUT PLEASE CHECK IT OUT TOO BC KIRI DOES STH SO BADASS DURING PRACTICAL TRAINING I LOVE HIM I REREAD THIS NOW AND THEN JUST FOR HOW COOL HE IS IN THAT ONE CHAPTER. also the steady, careful way krbk define their relationship and bkg's demisexuality is so sweet, so good.

The Hard Easy - dirtbag - 4k - teen this one is pretty popular but i still gotta mention it bc. kissing lessons. KISSING LESSONS!!! i love how eagar bkg is askdfhks

Kitsune's Pride - kytrin, Mslead - 147k - explicit okay this was A DOOZY like i???? the plot???? the time travel and the oni and kitsune stuff???? bkg and kiri being badasses??? bkg wanting the best for kiri and angrily supporting him??? this was the first time i kept up to date with a fic when it was still updating and commenting every chapte,r i was so hooked. and ALSO like the authors have written SO MUCH more longfics like this like they have NOVELS and i REALLY rec you check them out like....bro idk how they do they have so much out already and i think and they're updating two more rn and i'm. their bitch tbh

Burden of Proof - kytrin, Mslead - 153k - explicit OK ONE MORE REC FOR THESE AUTHORS. burden of proof is so. so fcukign good. i have adhd and these guys have never one lost me even tho their fics are upwards of 60k. this fic has dragons, it has plot, it has growth and healing and found families and i WISH i could write sth this intricate.

Burger Kings - plantegg - 5k - teen stupid teenage boys being stupid. kiri blackmails bkg into going on a date asjdfhkdsjfakd

Worth a Thousand Words - awareoftheconcept - 43k - teen SDKJFHASKH THIS IS A GUILTY PLEASURE OF MINE I KNOW THE LACK OF COMMUNICATION TROPE IS OVERUSED BUT I CAN'T HELP FALL FOR ANGSTY KIRI AND OMG THE CONFRONTATION SCENE AT THE END IS SO. SO. SO MOVIE-ESQUE I HATE HOW LAME I AM. basically everyone thinks bkg is dating camie asdkjfhskd

Day 6: Fandom - PullingAllMighters, SweetBrew - 9k - mature bkg and kiri don't know each other until they're pro heros and only bc they start a competition to see who's better and they go to each other's signings undercover and develop crushes on each other and deku is an enABLER ASHAHAJFS

Scales Ain't The Same As Feathers - Julietwasanidiot - 2k - gen GOD THIS IS SO CUTE BABY BKG "FINDERS KEEPERS" A BABY DRAGON KIRI SKDHFHD but he thinks kiri is a chicken

Charades - orphan_account - 4k - teen this is just soft....game night....at one point bkg acts out a really romantic word for charades and he's EMBARRASSED SDJFHA. also kiri falls asleep on him and there's some hair stroking....soft...

Cranky-rishima - PurplePersnickety - 29k - teen kirishima is the one with nightmares in this one and he gets CRANKY and BKG has to be the one to reach out and i thought that was such a fresh reversal loved it

No Secrets to Success - kingdoms - 7k - teen THIS IS MY FAV!! MY ABSOLUTE FAV JUST BC I LOVE IT WHEN FICS MAKE PEOPLE GAPE IN AWE FROM HOW SOFT BKG IS WITH KIRI. also krbk forming their relationship outside of school in this au was so??? sweet??? it's just them hanging out together. ALSO KIRI IS SO GOOD AT POKING BKG'S BUTTONS ASJDFHASK

Built to Fall - bigstupidjellyfish - 68k - explicit pro heros fic. they had a bad breakup in third year and oh god the angst is QUALITY. DW THEY TOTALLY MAKE UP AND IT'S SO FCKN WORTH IT. bkg also got therapy so he’s a little more stable as an adult lol

A Name That You'll Remember - heronfem - 33k - mature bkg is a fail!villain. he fell in with the wrong crowd when he was younger. he doesn't actually do anything wrong. in fact, all of his 'crimes' are generally stopped by kiri and somehow all end up exposing corruption anyway, so he's actually helping. kids love bkg. he always makes sure they're safe before he robs a jewelry store or sth. somehow kiri ends up flirting with him in all their fights and bkg has no idea what to make of him. the public can't get enough of them

strawberry mango sweet - redriotinggg - 9k - teen it's just a really sweet smoothie shop au!!! it's good reliable fluff!! what else can you ask for!!

cultivating something so divine - redriotinggg - 10k - teen redriotinggg yet again, i love this au, it's vet!au and kiri is so good at loving animals that bkg hires him and they fall in love and it's also got some competency porn, as in krbk are hella good at their job like power couple ayy

Tension Reduction - acernor - 10k - explicit Kirishima is a massage therapist and Bakugo needs help relaxing.

Mistletoe? Mistletoe. - Tearsaresalty - 2k - teen class 1a keeps making bkg kiss kiri and neither of them really mind wow i wonder why 🙄

#sdfjakjsdfsk ok i hope this tides you over #kiribaku #fic rec #bnha #💖💖💖#ask #Anonymous

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apriorisea · 4 years

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Angst with yoongi or jungkook. Their girlfriend having a hard time but they didn't think it was smt serious so they weren't there for her and just focusing on work. She didn't say anything to them, just trying to deal with it alone but it's just keep getting worse. She lose some weight, always tired and not so cheerful like before. Eventually they realize it when she faint in their arms (i am sorry it's really long i hope you write smt like that, you are one of my fave writers 👍💜)

--Hi! As usual 😅I apologize that this took so long! Thank you so much for the idea and for your sweet compliments---I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it! I hope you enjoy 💕💜

“The Problem”You x Yoongi

“You really didn’t have to do this,” you say, smiling as you lean across the center console to kiss Yoongi’s cheek. Your smile grows bigger as you see the pleased expression cross his face and add: “But I’m really glad you did.” He turns his head and kisses you firmly. “I love you,” he says softly. “I’ll take any chance I can to be with you.” He rests his hand on the back of your neck, playfully holding you in place. “In fact, why don’t you just blow off work today, come with me instead?” You groan, leaning into his arm and brushing your lips against the inside of his wrist. “Don’t tempt me.” He smiles. “I’m sorry I can’t pick you up tonight. Do you want me to send someone?” “No.” You lean forward to ask for another kiss, smiling when he gives you what you want. “I’ll just see you at home tonight. Try not to stay too late, okay?” When he smiles an agreement, you give him a wink and climb out of the car. “Love you!” You’re still smiling when you enter the building, and just before you settle in at your desk, you pull out your phone: This was a terrible idea…you better just come back and get me ;) His answer comes just as you are opening your email: Perfect. Let’s just drive and drive and drive, yeah? Two seconds later, he adds: I LOVE YOU. Grinning, you don’t even read the title of the email before you open it. The happy mood evaporates immediately. It’s 8:32am on a Monday morning, and your boss is already fuming. The project you and your team had put together had apparently not met his expectations and the deadline to turn in a new, better proposal was by the end of the day. Feeling your stomach twist into knots, you turn to scan the office for your coworkers—meeting the eyes of one of them, you exchange nervous looks. It’s going to be a long day.

“He’s just not going to be happy with any of this,” Coworker #2 says, tipping back in his seat irritably. “None of it.” Another team member, Coworker #3, pushes a strand of hair back behind her ear. “That’s a cheerful outlook, thank you.” “You know the mood he’s been in lately,” he says darkly. “This feels like a head hunt.” Glancing at your watch, you struggle to catch your breath. It was 1:36pm and the three of you had been working for hours on a new project proposal. 25 minutes ago the boss had sent a warning email, his tone none the happier. “What do you mean a head hunt?” He throws his arms in the air exasperatedly. “You know, like, looking to fire someone to get over his bad mood.” Your other coworker slaps his arm. “Stop it!” she says, genuinely angry. “You don’t know anything about anything. He’s not going to fire anyone over this stupid project!” The door clicks shut as the fourth and final member of your team walks in, holding a coffee cup. “He knows enough,” he says, sipping his drink. “Word on the street is that we need to downsize and almost anyone could be the target.” Your anxiety increases at his presence and arrogant words. “He’s not going to fire a whole team over a minor-level project,” you say coolly. He fixes you with a look. “You’re right. All he needs is one scapegoat.” Taking a deep breath to stay calm, you give him a look. “Well then, let’s spend more time working and less time talking, huh?” He eyes you but doesn’t respond, slinking slowly into his seat. Your attention is soon turned to other matters, but you never really lose the pit of nerves that his words had opened. It sits there, festering like an open wound, demanding your attention even when you refuse. By the end of the work day, you are exhausted, mentally and physically, and by the time you reach your apartment, you are an anxious mess: the inside of your lower lip is raw from the constant worried chewing and your head is pounding from the stress. As you climb the stairs to your apartment, you think about the day: your team had managed to complete a rough draft for the new project proposal just in time, and, though he wasn’t thrilled, your boss had agreed to give you the rest of the week to complete it. You bite down on your lower lip again. It’s not terrible, but it’s also not great. Reaching your front door, you’re suddenly frozen by the sound of your coworker’s words echoing in your mind: “All he needs is one scapegoat.” Your stomach twists and you force another deep breath before you can open the door. Stepping out of your shoes, you drop your bag to the ground and survey the apartment: there’s a basket of laundry sitting in the corner of the living room, waiting to be done, and a few dishes still in the sink. Releasing a slow, even breath, you try to let the familiarity of home calm you down. The team had worked straight through lunch, and you vaguely realized that part of the reason your hands were shaking was because you hadn’t eaten since your piece of toast this morning for breakfast. You open a cupboard door, but as soon as your eyes land on the coffee mugs, your heart races as you hear it again: One scapegoat. You trusted that particular coworker about as far as you could throw him, and the two of you had been at odds constantly lately. I wouldn’t put anything past him, you think, and your stomach lurches. You shut the cupboard and head for the sink. Sick of hearing your own thoughts, you turn on the TV after you’d finished the dishes and settle in to fold some laundry, trying not to think about the gaping hole of worry eating its way through your stomach. I just have to do the best, you think. I have to be the best member of the team. Then I’m untouchable. Halfway through the basket of laundry, you hear the door unlock. Yoongi comes in, looking slightly disheveled though his frown fades at the sight of you. “Hi sweetheart,” he says quietly, lining his shoes up next to yours carefully. “Here, I’ll finish that. I meant to do it last night.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head and joins you on the floor, reaching for the shirt in your hands. His presence washes over you and you take a truly deep breath. “It’s okay,” you say, tipping your head over to rest on his shoulder. “How was your day?” He sighs, and there’s so much in that simple sound that you forget all about your terrible day and turn to look at him. “What’s going on?” you ask softly, reaching up to smooth a strand of his hair back. “Long day. Taehyungie’s having a hard time lately, Jimin’s back is giving him problems…Namjoon has a bad case of writer’s block and we still need 4 more songs to even make a mini-album.” He folds the shirt and stacks it carefully on top of the others, then reaches for another. “We’re not sure if we can make the Australian tour happen.” “Oh no,” you sympathize. “How come?” “Venue availability, travel….basically everything.” He pauses in between shirts to rub his forehead tiredly. You kiss his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know how important that tour is to you guys. I’m sure something will work out!” The laundry now finished, he sighs again and sits back against the couch. Reaching out to pull you into his arms, he kisses your temple. “We’re going to figure it out,” he agrees. “But I’m going to be working a lot these next few days. Probably into the weekend,” he adds, waiting for your reaction. You cuddle against him. “It’s okay, baby. Do what you need to do.” “I love you,” he says softly, tipping your chin up so he can kiss you. “How was your day? Have you eaten already?” The question knocks the wind from you. “Oh. It was fine. I…I already ate, yeah. Sorry.” You push out of his arms so he can’t feel the way your heart races at the lie. “Do you want me to make something?” “Nope.” He gets to his feet. “We still have leftovers from last night. I’ll just have those. What did you have?” You stack the folded laundry back in the basket and ignore the question. “I forgot about the leftovers. Hope they still taste good.” “There’s a lot left,” he calls from the kitchen. “I’ll pack some up and you can take it for lunch tomorrow.” You feel your stomach squirm. “Thanks.” You push the laundry basket back into the corner and cross your arms over your stomach, watching him as he moved around the kitchen, reheating his leftovers and packing yours for lunch tomorrow. Tomorrow. You think of your boss’ anger, the work left to do, your coworker’s sinister intent……Your hands go cold. Yoongi brings his food into the living room, sitting on the couch and gesturing to the spot next to him. Some of the feeling returns to your fingers as you climb up next to him, curling up close and resting your head on his shoulder. “Next week,” he says in-between bites. “We’re going to have date night every night for the whole week.” You smile, grateful for the way his presence and words melt your icy worry. “That sounds amazing.” “I mean it,” he insists around a mouth full of food. “Every night. We’ll go to that movie, get dinner at all of our favorite places, stay home and finish our show, go for a drive…anything we want to do. Anything you want to do.” Turning your head to kiss his shoulder again, you say quietly, “I love you, Yoongi.” He finishes eating quickly, hopping up to rinse his dish off and returning to you quickly. Through a yawn, he asks, “Are you ready for bed?” With your mind so full of worry, you hadn’t been looking forward to a whole night of tossing and turning, but when he extends his hand to you, you realize everything would be okay. Putting your hand in his, you nod. “Yes.” When you’re both settled in bed, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you back against his chest. Leaning down to kiss your neck, he rests his head against yours gently. “So I’m thinking one night we get burgers,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear. “Pizza for our Netflix night…” “Mmm.” You close your eyes, letting his soothing voice lull you into a calm. “We definitely need to do sushi one night.” “Agreed. For our big fancy date night, let’s go to that nice restaurant with the giant steaks!” You can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. “Whatever you want to do. I just want to spend time with you.” He hugs you close. “I love you, sweetheart. Sleep tight, okay?” And with him there to keep you safe and push the worries away, you actually do.

The next morning, you hear him get up extra early, but you’re too exhausted to stir. Before he leaves, he kisses your forehead gently. “Have a good day, sweetheart,” he whispers, and then he’s gone. Your alarm goes off at the usual time, but when you pull your phone to you, you see a screen full of texts. Feeling your stomach lurch, you scan through them: 11 of them are from your coworkers, already panicked about the project. 1 of them is from your bank, reminding you that your payment for student loans was due next week. You set your phone down, heart pounding, and try not to panic. You wish Yoongi were still home. But he was already gone, so you roll out of bed, get ready as quickly as possible, and force yourself to answer a few texts as you head to the kitchen for breakfast. After a little bit of coordination, you and two of your coworkers have a plan for the day—the third one (the problematic one) hadn’t responded yet. Just as you open your fridge to hunt for some food, you get a private message from your closest coworker: Watch out for SJ, she wrote. I’ve heard he was talking about you the other day during lunch. Your stomach flips. I knew it. You shut the fridge hard, ignoring the ache in your guts. Pulling on your coat, you grab your bag and take a small breath. You wouldn’t let him get you today. As you leave the house, you pull out your phone and send Yoongi a text: Is it just me, or is this the most Monday-feeling Tuesday ever??? You’re about to tuck the phone back into your pocket when it buzzes. Eagerly awaiting your boyfriend’s message, you look at the screen expectantly— And find another text from your coworkers. It brings you back to earth immediately. Your stomach is in knots all the way to the office.

“Just as long as her name is on it,” your coworker says dramatically, his voice clearly too loud to be a whisper. Steeling yourself, you look up from your computer. “My name is on what?” “Section 5,” he says unabashedly. “What’s wrong with section 5?” He raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?” “Stop being such an ass,” Coworker #2 interrupts, rolling his eyes. “What’s the problem?” The Problem sighs. “Section 5 is the epitome of what was wrong with the last proposal.” “According to who?” Your hands are balled into fists in your lap, hidden away from sight. “The boss, obviously.” “Oh, he told you that? Personally?” You stand your ground. “Last I knew, he didn’t even remember your name.” His cheeks flush. “It was obvious. So I just want to make sure that your name is on it, so he knows who to credit when this falls apart.” “It’s not going to fall apart!” interjects Coworker #3, smoothing her frazzled hair back into a ponytail. “Don’t even put that into the universe!” “You’re welcome to re-work it,” says Coworker #2. “You clearly have the time,” you add coolly. The Problem doesn’t answer, pretending to suddenly be preoccupied with something on his phone. The tenuous silence returns. The four of you work until lunch time—until 5 minutes before official lunch time, actually, because if you had to spend even 5 more minutes in the same room as him, you were going to murder someone—and as you put your laptop to sleep, you realize how hungry you are. “Here,” Coworker #2 drops a packet of pretzels on your desk. “You like these, right?” You nod. “Thanks.” He gives a faint smile, reaching his arms above his head in a huge stretch. “Don’t let him get to you,” he adds, jerking his head towards the door after The Problem. “He sees you as a threat because you are the most competent person in the whole department.” You smile. “I’m trying. But this is just more motivation to get this project sorted—then I can go back to ignoring his existence.” Coworker #2 laughs and reaches out to fist-bump you. “Amen,” he agrees, then grabs his empty-coffee mug off the table and leaves. Feeling a little lighter now that the you have the room to yourself, you open the packet of pretzels as your stomach growls. You manage to eat 7 before your phone goes off. Coworker #3: SJ’s going to eat lunch with the Exec Crew today. Such a suck-up. You set the packet of pretzels down and reply: Is the boss going? Coworker #3: Of course. He’s probably going to offer to pay and everything. The weight settles over your shoulders again. You remember the disgust in his eyes, the thinly veiled threats about your job—”And now he has the perfect opportunity,” you whisper to yourself. “He really is going to do whatever he can to get me fired.” As if the universe had heard you, your phone buzzes with another text: it’s an alert from your bank, reminding you about the bills coming up soon. I can’t lose my job, you think, feeling the panic rush through your entire body. Ignoring the reminder, you open Yoongi’s text thread. Any chance you’ll be done with work early today?? It joins your last still-unopened message. You stare at your phone for a full minute, hoping to see his return text as it comes in. It doesn’t. You think about the leftovers sitting in the fridge in the break room and your stomach flips. Pushing the half-empty packet of pretzels away from you, you reboot your laptop. “I have to work harder.”

You sink into the last empty bus seat, closing your eyes against the pain thundering through your head. It’s 79 minutes past quitting time and you hadn’t even had a chance to look at your phone since lunchtime. You pry your eyes open and fish for your phone, taking a small breath before unlocking it. Three messages from Coworker #3, four from Coworker #2, and one sarcastic one-liner from The Problem. The pounding in your head increases. 32. From the time your team resumed its work after lunch until you had all finally left the building, The Problem had made 32 pointed comments towards you. “You don’t even have seniority, you know that, right?” “We talked about the project at lunch. What a shame you weren’t there.” “Last quarter’s numbers weren’t ideal, that’s what he told me. There’s a lot of dead weight in the company, especially in our department. Especially on our team.” Rubbing the back of your neck tiredly, you leave the text thread without replying and open the next new message. It’s another bank reminder: the deadline on your payment was coming a lot sooner than you remembered. How did it get to this point? You stare out the window blankly. I used to love my job. What did I ever do to get this target on my back? You open your phone again, navigating to your text-thread with your boyfriend. He still hasn’t read either of your earlier messages. You must be busy today. Still no answer. You turn back to look out the window, ignoring the pain in your head and stomach. After almost missing your stop, you trudge towards your apartment, your mind too full to pay attention to anything else. They talked about things at lunch. They must have talked about ME at lunch. He’s going to get me fired. You bump into someone and don’t bother apologizing. He is actually actively working to get rid of me. Why? Fumbling for your phone again, you send a private message to Coworker #3: What does SJ gain by getting me fired?? Her return message comes as you are unlocking your door. You force yourself to get inside and out of your shoes and coat before looking at it. Coworker #3: You’re obviously the biggest threat in the department. You know he’s looking for a fast-track promotion. If he can get rid of you, that’s one less hurdle he’ll have to jump. You okay? He was such an asshole today. Dropping your bag on the floor angrily, you move to the kitchen, hunting for the bottle of aspirin. Everyday* you correct. But he’s crazy. If our project tanks, he’ll go down with it. You down three tablets without water. Coworker #3: He thinks he can weasel his way out of it, obviously. Coworker #3: But anyway, don’t worry about it. We’re going to be fine. You doing okay? Did you even get a chance to eat lunch today??? You pause at this, setting your phone on the counter to pull open the fridge. Leftovers, milk, fruit, vegetables, eggs, kimchi, yogurt…You feel a pain in your stomach and can’t decide if it’s hunger or something else. Your gaze un-focuses as you stare, and suddenly all you can see are bills and numbers. The pain in your stomach grows and you slam the fridge shut. I can’t lose this job. I have too many bills to pay. If I get fired, I’m going to be so far behind on every single payment. I CAN’T lose this job. The buzz from your phone causes an immediate anxious reaction to jolt through your whole body: your chest feels tight, your heart starts pounding, the pain in your head feels blinding, your stomach flips. Forcing a deep breath, you slowly reach for the device again. The knot in your stomach immediately untangles as soon as you see the name on the message. Exhaling roughly, you open Yoongi’s message eagerly. Yoongi Hi sweetheart. I’m sorry ~ so busy today. And I’m going to be home late tonight. :( Your relief fades quickly. YoongiAre you okay? How was your day? Glancing at the time, you feel the knot retie with a vengeance. When your boyfriend said “late,” he meant late. “He won’t be back before midnight,” you whisper to yourself. The apartment gets a little smaller around you. Trying to push the darkness away, you ignore his questions: I love you. Be safe! Locking the screen, you turn back to the fridge. Holding the device close to your chest, you stare at the door. Replaying the images of what the fridge held, you tried to convince yourself to eat one of them—but with each mental picture, the knot grew tighter and you felt like you were going to throw up. Turning away from the fridge explosively, you wandered into the living room. You realized suddenly how much you’d been relying on Yoongi’s presence to help ease the current of tension that was flowing nonstop through your entire body. Now, faced with the prospect of hours without him, you had nothing to distract you but the fear. You watch Netflix (the volume up loud in an attempt to drown out your own thoughts) and play mindless phone games until 11:15pm. Your entire body aches with exhaustion and stress, but you still spend five more minutes staring at the front door in vain, waiting for him to come back. Eventually, you get slowly to your feet and trudge down the hall to the bedroom. You spend extra time washing your face, delaying the inevitable, but when you finally crawl into bed you’re exactly as distraught as you had expected. Not even the white noise machine can help you tonight. You toss and turn for hours, watching the clock on your nightstand tick past midnight. Every time you close your eyes, you’re bombarded with visions of bills and loans and banks and evil coworkers and your angry boss. You see papers stamped with bright red lettering: TERMINATED. The Problem’s words echo constantly. You manage to fall into a light, troubled sleep, and find yourself stuck in the dream-version of the day’s lunch. At the exact moment that your Dream-Boss and Dream-The-Problem turn to you in unison and say “YOU’RE FIRED” you startle awake. Glancing at the clock, you realize it’s 2am and you’re still alone. Squeezing your eyes shut tight, you feel the hot tears build underneath your eyelids and fight down the urge to call him. You struggle for another 20 minutes before sleep finally takes you. Five minutes after you pass out, he comes home.

The next morning, you startle awake at the sound of your alarm. Scrambling to turn it off, you realize that you can’t move easily. The panic eventually gives way to relief: you’re tangled in Yoongi’s arms, wrapped tight in his hug. Carefully, you manage to reach out an arm to shut off the alarm, then shift gingerly so you’re facing him. He stirs a little, his embrace tightening reflexively, and you give-in: burying your face in his chest, you give yourself the 10 snooze minutes. Now that you’re wrapped in his arms, all the things that had kept you awake seemed distant and tiny. For the first time in the last 24 hours, you feel the pain in your stomach fade. But too soon, your snooze alarm goes off. It’s time. Taking one last deep breath in his circle of safety, you gently untangle yourself from his grasp, unable to keep the faint smile off your face at his sleep-mumbled complaint. What I’d give to be able to stay right here, all day. But… I need this job. I’ve got to fight. So instead, you gently stroke his hair until he falls back into his deep-slumber. Realizing how late he must have gotten home, you fight down a pang of disappointment: he’d be asleep for a few hours more. Just what he needed, definitely, but you would be long gone by then. Pulling yourself together, you manage to get ready quietly and quickly, mentally preparing yourself for the day ahead. You plant a soft kiss on Yoongi’s forehead before you go, drawing a last bit of strength before heading out to face your dragons.

10:00am. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket but ignore it. You’re sitting sandwiched between Coworkers #2 and #3, The Problem on the far end. The boss hasn’t spoken for the last 5 minutes. Finally, he sighs. “I’ve come to expect much more from this department,” he says, meeting your eyes seriously. “This new proposal…it’s better. But is it really what it ought to be?” The Problem jumps in before you can even blink. “No, sir, I completely agree. It’s not up to standards. It—” “I think it can be fixed,” your boss continues, speaking over the other man easily. He meets your eyes again. “But it is going to take a lot of work. For example, the proposed direction in Section 4 seems a bit messy.” The Problem is nodding. “Team Leader was in charge of that section.” Coworker #2 stiffens next to you. “No, she wasn’t,” he snaps. “I-I mean,” the flush creeps up his neck. “Sir, our team worked together on each section and each proposal. Of course.” You don’t look over at The Problem. This is exactly what you had been expecting. “Of course, of course,” The Problem simpers. “But, obviously, we follow the direction of our project manager, don’t we, sir?” Your boss raises one eyebrow at you. “Well?” “We all worked together on this proposal, sir,” you say calmly, though your insides are twisting together again. “And, obviously, no part would have gone through without full consent from the entire team. Right?” you direct the question to The Problem, but don’t bother looking at him. He clears his throat. “We follow your inspiration, team leader.” You hear Coworker #3 hiss under her breath next to you. Your boss is studying The Problem carefully. Finally, he looks back at his tablet screen. “Sections 4, 7, and 10 all need some re-working. Can you have it done by tomorrow?” The tiny bit of satisfaction you felt at realizing none of those sections had been your assigned responsibility bleeds away at the deadline. Tomorrow?? Your head aches. After a moment, you realize he’s waiting for you to respond. “Absolutely, sir,” you agree steadily. “We will work hard.” “I expect nothing less,” he agrees. “Make sure it is as streamlined as possible. We want no further problems going forward.” “Yes, sir,” the three of you parrot together; The Problem’s answer is more drawn-out and sickeningly sweet. You don’t look at him as the four of you leave your boss’ office.

7pm. 2 hours past quitting time and the four of you were still holed-up in the conference room together. The Problem gets to his feet loudly, heading for the door. “Where are you going?” demands Coworker #2; his hair is messy and out of place, his glasses slightly askew. “Smoke-break,” he answers. “Can’t be in this room for one second longer.” He lets the door slam shut behind him. Coworker #3 rolls her shoulders out. “Funny,” she says darkly. “If he was in this room for one second longer, I think I’d rip his stupid little head off.” Coworker #2 turns to you. “I don’t know how you managed to keep your cool all day today, honestly. I wanted to punch him in the mouth 3 times in that meeting alone.” You sigh and sit back in your chair. The atmosphere in the room had changed as soon as The Problem had left. “I just want to finish this project,” you say honestly. I have to be the best possible, so there’s no room for judgment or complaint. “The sooner it ends, the sooner we can get away from him.” “I know where he parks his car,” Coworker #3 offers helpfully. “It would be such a shame if his tires got slashed somehow…” You share a small grin with her; a grin that fades as you realize how long it’d been since you smiled. The muscles in your face ached from the simple gesture. “Here,” Coworker #2 plops another bag of mini pretzels in front of you. “Snack break! Better eat now before he comes back and turns all our stomachs…” You scoff humorlessly. Staring at the bag of snacks, you feel your stomach twist. The last thing you wanted to do was eat anything right now, but then you calculate how long it had been since you’d eaten anything. Oh. That’s probably not healthy. Opening the bag, you pretend not to notice how much your hands are shaking. I need to eat a little, you convince yourself. Every part of you is tired and aching. How much longer can I go on like this? Until this is over, your stubborn side kicks in. Until the danger is passed. Until you know your job is safe. Suck it up. You manage to eat ¾ of the bag before The Problem returns and, just as your coworkers predicted, as soon as he’s back in the room you’re no longer hungry. Pushing the pretzels away angrily, the four of you return to silent, tense work for another 2 hours.

You climb into bed at 10pm that night, too exhausted to be kept up by worries. By tomorrow it’ll be all over. You vaguely wonder if you should be more worried about how much the dark edges around your vision are growing. The last thing you feel before falling into a dreamless sleep is how much your stomach hurts. You’re startled awake at 12:03am. “Sorry, sweetheart,” you hear Yoongi’s voice permeate the darkness. Seconds later, you feel his arms wrap around you. You roll over immediately, snuggling against his chest. “I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he says hoarsely, pulling the blanket higher up over you. “I’m so sorry.” You shake your head. “Are you okay?” He sighs, a heavy and weary sound that goes straight to your heart. “I’m fine.” “Liar,” you accuse gently, hugging him a little tighter. “What’s going on?” “Just busy. We’re working hard. Same as usual…” You press a kiss to his collarbone. “I know. You need to get some rest.” He crushes you closer. “I love you, sweetheart. I’m sorry I woke you up. You must be exhausted, too. Let’s get some rest, both of us, yeah?” “Okay,” you breathe, already feeling your eyelids growing heavy again. “Goodnight, baby.” He spreads a few soft kisses across your face. “Goodnight, my darling girl.”

The next morning, your alarms go off at the same time and you struggle awake together. You’re both moving too slow, so you’re almost late, but he still insists on driving you to work that day. On the way over, you don’t talk much, but he holds your hand over the center console like usual and that keeps you steady. When he pulls up in front of your building, you lean over to give him a kiss. “Have a good day, Yoongi,” you say, but your attention is already on what awaits you inside. “You too, sweetheart,” he says, but he doesn’t let go of your hand. Studying you, he frowns a little. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little pale—” You power-up a false smile. “Don’t worry. I love you!” You press another kiss to his cheek and escape under this pretense. When you get out of the car, he reaches to roll your window down to call after you, but just then his phone buzzes so he abandons the idea and answers as he pulls away. You don’t turn around to watch him go, but your heart still flips when you hear the car leave. Staring up at your office building, you feel a sudden rush of dizziness and have to shut your eyes for a moment until it passes. The last day, you remind yourself. I need this job, I need this job, I need this job. You walk into the office and see Coworkers #2 and #3 sitting at their desks already. #2 is on the phone, but he gives you a bright smile as you walk past. “Hey! Are you—” Coworker #3′s voice falters as you move past her seat. “Whoa, are you okay?” You hesitate only slightly. “What?” She’s frowning. “You look really pale,” she says, lowering her voice slightly. “And have you lost weight?? You—” “I’m fine.” You feel the tips of your ears burn: if The Problem heard talk like this, it would be yet another way he could take you down. “Just tired.” “Are you sure? If—” “Positive,” you cut her off again. “Thanks. Plus, today’s the day, right? After this, things will be better.” Your stomach aches at the reminder. I can’t fail. “We better get to work!” You attempt cheerfulness and fail miserably. Coworker #3 gives you a furtive look, but doesn’t bring it up again. The Problem walks in exactly on time, sighing dramatically before flopping into his chair. Leaning back in his chair, he looks around the room, his gaze landing on you. “Well, here we are. I hope everyone is confident in their individual work…?” He lets it hang in the air. Coworker #2 sets the phone down too hard, already irritated. “I’m sure we’re all confident in both our personal AND our group work. Right?” He stares at The Problem until the other man is forced to look away from you. He pastes a sickening smile on his face. “Of course.” “Then let’s get started,” you say, trying to keep your voice devoid of any emotion. “We’ve only got 8 hours left.”

Hour 1: The four of you work in silence. The Problem gets up twice to refill his coffee, making much more noise than is necessary. You get another text from your bank. Hour 2: A portion of Coworker #2′s work didn’t save correctly. The ensuing meltdown leaves you frazzled and The Problem gleeful. Hour 3: The Problem sneaks away and is later found chatting in the staff room by Coworker #3. She doesn’t tell you everything he was saying, but the pit in your stomach knows well enough. Hour 4: You make sure everyone triple saves their work as lunchtime nears. The Problem goes on another secret mission but returns deflated: the bosses are having a private lunch and he was not allowed to join. The secret satisfaction you feel at this fades as he critically looks over one portion of your work. You skip lunch to continue working. Hour 5: Somehow, The Problem’s attitude has gotten even worse since lunch. He snarks and sneers and reluctantly helps Coworker #3 on their joint section. While they’re bickering, Coworker #2 sends you a file: it’s a list of incidents and complaints that he’s preparing to send to the boss and HR. You manage a tiny, real smile. Hour 6: The Problem finally directly challenges you on a portion of the project that you’ve worked on. Backed by both of your other coworkers, the three of you manage to shout him down. He works half-heartedly on his assigned portion. Hour 7: Your stomach hurts so much. Every time you take a small break from the work in front of you, it feels like it’s going to swallow you whole. You force yourself to drink some water, but it sloshes too uncomfortably in your empty stomach. Your head aches and you feel unbelievably tired. Almost there… Hour 8: Fifteen minutes before the deadline, you save, double-save, triple-save, and back-up the project to 3 different locations. “It’s finished,” Coworker #2 says, leaning back in his chair and rubbing at his eyes violently. “I guess,” scoffs The Problem, getting to his feet. He locks eyes with you. “Hope you feel good about it, Team Leader.” Without waiting for a response, he turns on his heel and heads for the door. “See you guys in there. I’ve got something to do.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see Coworker #2 add something to his list. “Ignore him,” Coworker #3 encourages; she clearly is still very worried about you. “It’s going to be fine. I think we’ve done some good work here.”

The walk from your shared office space to the boss’ office isn’t very far, but by the end of it, your legs feel like jelly, your heart is pounding, you’re short of breath, and your head is screaming. You sink into the nearest chair, trying to convince yourself that you were fine. Your stomach aches. The meeting is short. The Problem tries 3 times to throw you under the bus, but at this point, you and your other two coworkers are prepared and unified. By the end, even your boss seems irritated with The Problem—at least, you think that’s what is happening. You can’t really be sure anymore, to be honest: your vision is going slightly blurry, the dark edges growing, and you feel incredibly light-headed. 45 minutes past usual quitting time, your boss gives you a solemn nod. “Well done,” he says seriously. “This project is much better and more what I was expecting. Thank you.” The relief washes over you and you feel weak. “Well done, Team Leader,” your boss adds, then gives Coworkers #2 and #3 a smile. “Now go home and get some rest.” It might be your current physical state, but you swear he gives The Problem a slightly disapproving look. It must be real, because The Problem is the first to leave, disappearing without another look at any of you. Somewhat numb, you get to your feet with the other two, following them out of the office. As soon as the three of you are out of sight of the boss’ office, Coworker #2 gathers both of you into a giant hug. “We did it!!!! Oh man!” He releases you with a huge exhale. “We should celebrate! Dinner? Drinks? Meat??” Coworker #3 gives him a look, then tilts her head towards you meaningfully. “I think I’m just going to take our brilliant Team Leader home.” He turns to look at you, and even in your fuzzy state you can see the look of concern that crosses his face. “Oh, right. Yeah. Let’s get some rest tonight. We can celebrate tomorrow!” You manage a smile. “Sounds good. G-good job you guys.” Coworker #3 loops her arm through yours securely. “It’s all because of you, oh fearless leader!” she quips. “Let’s go!” Sitting in the passenger seat of her car, you try to relax; the last thing you wanted was for her to have to walk you up to your apartment door. So you fake a brighter smile, thank her for the ride, and hop out before she can offer to help. You turn to wave as she drives away, gritting your teeth against the way your head starts spinning, but wait until she’s gone before you move. I did it. You think as you slowly climb the stairs. I made it. I’m not going to get fired. Things are going to be okay. Your stomach flips and you have to pause for a second: Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up. You wait until the feeling passes. I just need to get inside. Lie down for a while….maybe…maybe eat? The house will be cool and empty and calm. Empty. You realize you hadn’t texted Yoongi all day. Now that things were over, you could finally relax around him, tell him the truth. You stumble on the last step, nearly face-planting but saving yourself at the last second. Just need to…lie….down. You punch in the door code, push it open, step inside—and are startled to see Yoongi sitting on the couch. “Baby—” he gets to his feet, a smile on his face, but it disappears when he sees you. The surprise is too much for your already-battered body. You try to step towards him and everything goes dark.

Fortunately for you, he was already moving towards you when you crumpled; he managed to catch you before you hit the floor, cradling you carefully against him in a state of controlled panic. You wake up as the EMTs are loading you into the ambulance, and the only thing that stops you from freaking out is the sound of his voice. “I don’t think she’s eaten for a while,” he’s saying as he climbs in next to you. “She’s overworked, overtired—Maybe dehydrated? I don’t—” “It’s okay, sir,” one of the medics says. She gives him a small smile. “She’s going to be fine.” “Yoongi…” you mumble, his name getting lost in the oxygen mask over your face, but at that moment he turns to look at you anyway. Exhaling in relief, he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he reassures you, brushing your hair away from your face. “I’m here.” Something about the combination of your complete exhaustion, the motion of the ambulance, the oxygen mask, and the warmth of Yoongi’s presence lulls you into a light sleep. There’s a transfer from the ambulance to the emergency room, from gurney to hospital bed. There’s several people in scrubs and masks that look you over. You vaguely feel the prick of the IV in your arm. You’re asked a lot of questions and you give a lot of answers you can’t remember, but eventually, you’re left alone. Almost. Taking your hand, Yoongi leans down to kiss your forehead again. “You’re going to be okay,” he says softly against your skin. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.” You shake your head weakly. “You don’t have to apologize. I—” “You’re extremely dehydrated,” he cuts over you, tightening his hold on your hand. “I don’t think you’ve slept well for days. And you…you said you hadn’t eaten for—since Monday?? Sweetheart, I….” he’s getting worked up. You squeeze his hand. “It’s not your fault.” Exhaling shakily, he meets your eyes. “Why?” “Well—” you suddenly look at him. “Wait. Don’t you need to be at work right now? What about the tour problems? And Tae? And Jimin’s back. And—” “Stop.” He finally pulls a chair close to the bed and sits. “I only need to be here right now. With you. This is where I should have been for the last few days, then maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.” You close your eyes in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.” Pressing the back of your knuckles to his lips, he shakes his head and murmurs. “Don’t say sorry. Let’s just talk. Tell me everything.” So you do. You tell him all about the project, The Problem, your boss, your coworkers, the bank notifications, everything. “And I just got so worked up over it,” you finish tiredly. “I didn’t want to talk about it. And then I knew you were busy, so I didn’t want to bother you….and things just got out of control.” He nods slowly. “I should’ve paid better attention,” he says quietly. “We were both too wrapped up in our own things. Never again, I promise you.” He reaches up to brush your hair back again. “I will do better at my job of keeping you safe and healthy and happy, okay? I promise.” You’re too tired to argue so you just nod. Smiling, he reaches up to kiss you softly. “And in return,” he adds, stroking the side of your face, “You have to talk to me. About all the things, all right? Especially the ones that make you worried and want to stop eating. Can you do that?” You nod again. “I think I can manage that.” “Also, you have to promise to do whatever it takes to stay healthy, okay? I can’t live without you,” he smiles. “So it’s your responsibility to take care of the most precious thing on this earth. Understood?” You roll your eyes but fondly. “I love you,” you say quietly. He kisses the tip of your nose. “I love you more. Now, let’s get you some rest so we can go home and snuggle. Okay?” You laugh lightly and agree.

When you’re finally released from the hospital, Yoongi insists on pushing your hospital-mandated wheelchair out to the waiting car. He wraps an arm around your waist and basically carries you to the backseat, helping you in before shutting the door behind you both securely. He holds you close on the ride on home; you rest your head on his shoulder gratefully. The babying continues when you arrive back at the apartment: he scoops you into his arms and carries you all the way up to your place, commenting in a displeased voice: “You’re too light, babygirl. You need to stay healthy.” You give his neck a squeeze. “Whatever you say,” you agree, resting your head against his shoulder. At his light scoff-laugh, you smile. “I’m just trying to live up to my promises!” “Sure, sure.” As soon as you reach the apartment, he takes you straight to bed, settling you in your spot and tucking the blanket around you securely. Kissing your cheek, he says, “Now. What do you want to eat? Anything you want, baby.” “Um….” you pretend to think hard. “Maybe…kimbap? BBQ? Pizza? Soup?” At his humored expression, you grin. “Everything sounds good!” “Then everything,” he says, kissing your lips softly, “is what you shall have.” While you both wait for the food to arrive, he never leaves your side. You cuddle against him, watching mindless TV and drinking from the water bottles he keeps pressing into your hands until he’s satisfied. He insists on feeding you the first few bites of food until you finally rebel, accepting his kiss happily instead. The two of you eat in relative silence, and you realize just how hungry you are. Tipping your head over onto his shoulder, you say softly, “I’m sorry I worried you.” He turns slightly to kiss your temple again. “You’re safe, sweetheart. That’s all that matters.” At that moment, your phone goes off. Your knee-jerk reaction is panic, but it immediately fades as you remember that everything is over and Yoongi is there next to you. Still, you take a small breath before reading the screen. The smile spreads across your face slowly. Yoongi glances at you. “What is it?” You turn the screen towards him: Coworker #3: YOU GUYS. SJ just got transferred to another department!!!!!! He can never bug us again!!!!!!!!! Yoongi grins with you. “That’s great news.” He kisses you again. “See? Everything is going to be fine.” “You’re right.” He clears the almost-empty food containers off the bed and when he climbs back in, you snuggle into his side automatically. He wraps his arms around you and presses a few soft kisses all over your face. “I love you so much,” he says in between kisses. “I’m so proud of you. You did it.” “Yes,” you agree, feeling your eyes close all on their own. I did.

#Anonymous #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts clean imagines #non-smut #BTS #REQUESTS #ASKS #apriori sea imagines #apriori sea requests #bts imagine yoongi #yoongi #suga

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alisonsfics · 3 years

Text

20 Questions

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Summary: “Howdy there! I wanted to request a cute imagine with Derek. The basic idea is that they're playing 20 questions or something and it gets really personal and cute and they express their feelings for each other.” - @dirty-pan-goblin

Word Count: 2.2k

“So now the wait begins” you said, leaning back into your seat.

You and Derek were on a stakeout outside of a suspect's house. You were both sitting in the SUV, just waiting. “I know a way we could pass the time” Derek said, smirking at you.

You cursed yourself because the first place your mind went was somewhere dirty. You couldn’t be blamed for that though, Derek Morgan was like most attractive man you had ever seen. So maybe you had developed a crush on your coworker, so what?

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” You asked him, looking over into his eyes. “20 questions?” He suggested. You thought about it for a second. You thought about the possible risks of playing this game with him. The benefits outweighed the risks, and besides you were really going to be bored if you didn’t play.

“Alright, I’m down. Hit me” you told him, embracing the challenge. “Okay, I’ll start easy. What was your first impression of me?” He asked you, curiously.

You thought back to your first day at the BAU. It had been a few years, then it all came back to you.

“Well I remember I walked into Quantico on my first day, and I was so lost. I was trying to find Hotch’s office, but I had no idea where it was. Then, I bumped into you and you asked if I needed help, and you showed me where to go. I remember thinking that you seemed like just a really good guy, like someone you could always rely on” you told him, smiling. Even on your first day, you felt like a school girl again when you were around Derek.

“So how does that first impression measure up to how you know me know?” Derek asked you, smirking. “Nope, only one question allowed. My turn. What is your ideal first date?” You asked him, raising your eyebrows.

“Nothing super fancy, maybe just seeing a movie or making dinner together. But like my absolute perfect date would be going to a carnival together” he told you, honestly.

“Who knew that you were such a romantic” you teased him. You were starting to get nervous, now that you guys were talking about dates. What if Derek asked you if you had your eyes on anyone?

“What do you value more, platonic relationships or romantic relationships?” He asked you, smirking. “Well if you’re doing it right, I think your significant other should also be like your best friend. I mean, you shouldn’t like ditch your friends because you like some guy. But you significant other should be someone you would be friends with, if you weren’t romantically attracted to them” you said, being completely honest.

“You are such a hopeless romantic, of course you would say that” Derek said, laughing and placing his hand on your forearm for a second. You felt the heat rush to your cheeks. “You asked, don’t judge my answer” you said, sticking your tongue out at him and giggling.

“No judgement here, so what else do you want to know?” He asked you, giving you that million dollar smile. “What’s your favorite thing about me?” You asked him, giggling to yourself.

“Well that’s hard, you’re kind of a horrible person” Derek joked, chuckling. Your jaw dropped and you hit his arm, offended. “I cannot believe you, you are so rude! Give me a good answer” you said, pretending to pout.

“Probably how compassionate you are. You always make everyone feel supported, whether that’s victims or their families or even the rest of the team. You always know just how to comfort someone” he told you, giving you a small smile. “Awww Derek, you bit softie” you said, leaning your head on his shoulder.

You were touched that he thought so highly of you. It’s really nice to get a compliment, every now and then. Especially from the guy you were head over heels for.

You picked your head back up and looked at him, waiting for your question.

“Have you ever been in love?” He asked you, sincerely. You thought about your answer for a second. “Yes, I’m somebody who falls in love really easily. I wear my heart on my sleeve and sometimes that’s been bad and sometimes it’s good. What about you?” you told him, honestly.

“Once for sure, and then I kind of put up walls to protect my heart. I haven’t been truly in love since then. But I’m open to it and I don’t think it’s impossible, especially with the right person” he told you, looking into your eyes. For a split second, there was a certain sparkle in his eyes. When he mentioned the right person, it felt like he was talking about you.

You felt absolutely crazy for thinking he could be talking about you. There was no way, right?

“So are you currently in love?” Derek asked you, and you saw the same twinkle. “No, but there’s someone who I could see myself falling in love with” you told him, hoping he would get the hints.

“Can I ask a follow up question?” Derek asked, smirking at you. “Of course” you told him, smiling. “Am I that person?” He asked you, and you felt the butterflies in your stomach.

Then you saw the unsub come out of his house. “Derek look” you said, pointing towards the house. He looked away from you and towards the direction you were pointing. “Hotch, we got him. Y/N and I are going after him” Derek said, over the microphone.

You both jumped out of the SUV and pulled out your guns. “Daniel Sullivan, put your hands in the air” Derek called out, as you both pointed your guns at him.

The man saw you both and froze, and then he turned around and started running. “You still have to answer the question, when we’re done, Y/N” Derek said, as he started to chase the unsub.

“I’m going to cut him off in the alley” you told Derek, and then started running.

You made it to the alley and you could hear the unsub running. You could tell he was about to run out in front of you. You stopped and waited til he got closer. Then, at exactly the time, you kicked you leg out. Successfully knocking the unsub off of his feet.

“Nice one, L/N” Derek said to you, holding up his hand for a high five. You smiled and hit his hand, but Derek closed his hand so that your fingers were interlaced. He just smirked at you. You giggled to yourself and then pulled your hand away.

You grabbed the handcuffs off your belt and locked them around the wrists of the unsub. By then, the local police had arrived. One of the officers took the unsub from you, and transported him to the station.

“Come on, let’s go” Derek said, putting his arm around your shoulders. You both walked back to the SUV. You saw the rest of the team waiting there.

“The police just started to check the house, but they already found the victims. They’re safe” Hotch told you two. “That’s a relief” you said, sighing.

“We’re going to meet back at the police station, we’ll see you two there?” Rossi asked you both, smirking. You tried to ignore the smirk and just nodded your head. “Yeah, we’ll be there” Derek told him.

The rest of the team got in their SUV and left the scene. You started to walk towards the SUV. “Woah woah woah, you’re not getting off that easy, babygirl” Derek said, grabbing your hand and pulling you back towards him.

“What?” You asked, pretending to be clueless. “Listen, if you were talking about somebody else, that’s fine. We can both move on and be the good friends that we’ve always been. But, if you were talking about me, just tell me. Because I think you are amazing and one of the kindest and bravest people I’ve ever met. But I just need to know” he told you, honestly.

You looked down, not knowing what to say. Derek was still holding your hand in his and you could feel your cheeks heat up. Of course he was the person you were talking about, but you didn’t know how to tell him that.

But, Derek interpreted your hesitance as rejection. You saw a look of hurt in his eyes, as he slowly pulled his hand away. “I— I’m sorry that I asked” he said, starting to walk away.

“No, Derek wait!” You called out, not wanting to hurt him. He turned to face you. “You don’t have to apologize for how you feel, I understand” he told you, but he just looked like he was in pain.

“Two years, four months, and six days” you told him, only thinking of one way to tell him how you felt. Derek looked confused, to say the least. “You gotta help me out, L/N” he said, asking what you meant.

“That’s how long it’s been since I fell for you. It was the first time that your eyes sparkled when I looked at you, and the first time that I got butterflies when you called me babygirl” you told him, with a smile on your face. He started to walk back towards you, slowly.

“Are you saying?” He asked you, almost not believing it. “Yes Derek, you’re the person I was talking about. You are the most caring person I know. Any time that I’m ever feeling down, you always make sure I know that you’re always there for me. You are selfless and compassionate and the only person I never get sick of talking to” you told him, honestly.

Derek closed the distance between the two of you and cupped your face. He leaned in and kissed your lips. It felt magical.

You rested your hands on his forearms and kissed him back, with all the love you had in you. It felt like it the years of pent up feelings, were poured into this kiss.

And just before the kiss could become too heated for being in public, you pulled away. The smile on Derek’s face was contagious.

You both looked a young, teen couple. You both had the biggest smiles on your faces, and expressions of pure bliss.

“I’m glad I asked you to play 20 questions with me” Derek said, truthfully. “Yeah, so am I” you said, kissing his cheek. He moved his hands from cupping your face to wrap around your waist.

“We should probably get back to the station, before the team starts to get suspicious” Derek told you, looking into your eyes. You giggled to yourself, knowing that the whole team was definitely already aware of crushes the two of you had. They always knew.

“Yeah, I guess duty calls” you said, as you both pulled away and walked to the car. You both drove back to the police station and Derek’s hand didn’t leave your thigh for the whole ride.

When you both pulled into the police station, you both got out of the car and walked inside. You were both met by Spencer standing right in front of you.

He looked like he was trying to say something. “What’s up, pretty boy” Derek asked him, curiously. “Rossi and Emily told me to ask if you two were dating. They figured you two would be most likely to tell me the truth out of everyone” Spencer told you.

You both laughed, that sounded exactly like something Emily and Rossi would do. “Come on Reid, let’s go talk to them” you said, starting to walk towards the room where the BAU was set up in. Both Spencer and Derek followed you.

“Hey” Emily said, when the three of you walked in. “Are you using precious, little Dr.Reid to spy on us?” You asked, leaning into Spencer’s side. “I have no idea what you’re talking about” Emily lied.

“So I guess if Derek and I were together, you wouldn’t care?” You teased Emily. “Wait! You two ARE together? I was right” Emily said, cheering for herself. Then, Rossi took out his wallet and handed Emily a twenty dollar bill.

“Were you two betting on us?” Derek asked them, shocked. “Nope, not all” they both said, in unison. “Reid?” You asked, looking over at Spencer. “They had a bet going about how long it would take you two to start dating” Spencer said, truthfully.

“Spencer” they both groaned in frustration. “I can’t believe you were betting on us” Derek said, chuckling. “Are you kidding? That sounds just like something they would do” you said, giggling.

Hotch entered the room and said “It’s time to go, we’re leaving for the airport”. You all got up and got into the SUV’s, to drive to the airport.

Once you were on the jet, Emily pulled you aside and demanded that you tell her every detail of how you and Derek got together. As you were telling the story, you kept glancing up and making eye contact with Derek. He was playing chess against Spencer, and losing badly.

Every time you two made eye contact, he would wink at you or wave. And every time, it left a smile on your face.

You had worried about how dating Derek would affect the relationship of the team. But now, you had no doubt that nothing would change or be awkward.

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