#Pls. The way you sent this a million years ago

[taiyami]

Mitsuri my beloved perhaps? 🙏

I haven't drawn this sweet girl in forever, finally decided to refresh an old sketch I did of her way back when.

[cheolhub]

WORTH THE WAIT — KIM MINGYU ࿐

summary. mingyu forgets about the date you’ve had planned and he wants to show you he’s sorry in a rather unconventional way.

wc. 1.8k

warning. unprotected sex, couch sex, dumbification, lots of apologizing, big d!ck!gyu (ofc), kinda angsty but it’s all resolved, creampie — MINORS DNI 18+

note. this idea was sent by my beloved 🌵 anon… like…. literal months ago lol— it was a drabble at first, then it got a bit too long, so enjoy it xx [not proofread, kinda shitty]

contrary to belief, kim mingyu does have a few faults. he can be a bit clumsy and he’ll accidentally eat your leftovers every time he’s over, but the biggest fault of them all is… he can be a bit forgetful.

so when mingyu accidentally double books hanging out with wonwoo on the same night as your date, you find yourself dolled up and waiting around your apartment for him, unaware of his whereabouts. you hadn’t seen him much due to your conflicting schedules and you’d been looking forward to the date all week long.

you wait and wait— 15 minutes, 30 minutes, an hour. you text him a few times, but you don’t get a response and you figure he’s at work, asleep, or doing something else. whatever the case may be, he definitely forgot.

mingyu doesn’t realize this until he’s checking his phone for the first time of the hectic game night and he sees a string of text messages from you.

from you 6:33 

i can’t wait to see u!! :,)

from you 7:07

hi babyyy, text me when you’re here and i’ll come down

from you 7:39

gyu are you still coming?

if you wanna reschedule, we can… just text me back and let me know?

from you 8:02

i checked ur location to make sure u weren’t dead and i saw you were at woo’s

i’m just gonna assume ur with him, which is fine :) pls just let me know next time.

shit.

shit shit shit.

regardless of what you say, it’s not fine— he can practically hear your dejected voice through the text and the smiley face doesn’t do shit to mask it. 

he’s quick to tell wonwoo and make his way to your place, insides churning at the thought of you feeling stood up. he would never, in a million years, ever want to hurt you in any way.

he doesn’t text he’s here, he doesn’t knock, he just takes the spare key hidden under your placemat and lets himself in. 

you’re curled up on the couch in your date outfit watching some random show before you jolt at the sound of your door being unlocked. when mingyu walks in, panic on his face, you deflate a bit, internally thanking the universe that it was just him and not some intruder.

“baby…” 

you try to put a smile on as if he isn’t the last person you wanted to see at the moment, but mingyu sees through it. 

“hi, gyu.” you say curtly. “hope you had fun at wonwoo’s tonight.”

the subtle shade proves you’re upset, even if you had said it unconsciously. his lips turn down in a frown and he walks around the couch so he’s posted right in front of you.

“Y/N, you have to believe me— i’m so sorry. i got the days—“

you cut him off with a sigh, “gyu, seriously. it’s fine. it’s not that big of a deal. we can just do something the next time you’re free.” 

he doesn’t even know when next time will be given his rather strenuous schedule and you know that, yet those words come out of your mouth anyway. he huffs softly and takes a seat next to you, intertwining your hands into his.

“baby, please,” he whispers. “you know i would never stand you up on purpose. i lost my mind and got the days mixed up– please let me make it up to you.”

you shrug, avoiding eye contact. you want to stay mad, but the way he’s looking at you… the way he’s holding your hands… it’s making it impossible not to melt into a helpless puddle. “how?” you ask meekly.

he doesn’t say anything, letting go of your hands in favor of cupping your cheek and pulling you in. his soft lips meet yours and you practically forget why you’re angry to begin with. his tongue quickly finds its way into your mouth and your soft moan eases his nerves a bit. 

he pulls back, leaving you warm and fuzzy and a bit needy for more of him. he finally takes you in when his eyes open. you’re still in a pretty little outfit– presumably, one you’d picked out for your date– and it makes him groan a little bit. 

“you look so pretty, baby. you wore this all for me?”

you nod your head slowly. “i was really excited to show you…”

he frowns, “i know, i’m sorry… i’m so, so sorry,” he mumbles and you don’t say anymore, simply nodding your head at his apology. his lips are on yours again, rougher this time. it’s like he’s trying to prove just how sorry he is with every passing second. 

and when he breaks the kiss again, you whine. “gyu…”

“wanna take this off. can i?” he asks, referring to your dress and you just nod again. 

his hands find the hem, pulling it up and over your head, leaving you in your even prettier set. the black lace adorns your body and mingyu feels his pants tighten at the mere sight. 

he’s breathless when the pet name falls from his lips, “baby…”

he’s so glad you didn’t change, but he feels like such an idiot for fucking up this bad. he wishes he checked his phone earlier, he wishes he remembered your date was tonight, he wishes he could’ve taken you out in your gorgeous dress and brought you back home to see the even more gorgeous set underneath. 

but he’ll make up for it. he’ll spend all the time in the world doing so if he needs to.

he stands to his feet pulling his shorts off and revealing his aching cock. you bite your lip and slide down so your back and head are comfortably on the cushion of your couch, eyes trained on his huge length.

he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, rolling them down your legs and leaving your now-wet cunt bare. 

“so beautiful… so fuckin’ beautiful angel, can… can i keep going?”

you whimper and wordlessly nod again, brain unable to give him a verbal response. he grunts, joining you back on the couch by getting in between your legs. 

“tell me when…” he whispers, aligning himself with your hole before pressing his fat cock into you. “fuck, so tight…”

the burning stretch of your walls opening to take him makes your head spin a bit. no matter how many times he fucks you, it always hurts.

at first, at least, because now he’s balls deep in your pulsing cunt and all you can feel is blinding pleasure. the burn and stretch have subsided and your brain has turned to complete and utter mush. 

you clench around him tightly and he has to ask, “are you good, baby?”

you dumbly nod– it’s all you can do– but mingyu can’t help but feel more anxiety fill his body. you’ve barely said any words to him and it makes him worry that you won’t forgive him. 

you moan when his cock leaves just for it to suddenly fill you back up with a single, sharp thrust. this is how it starts before he’s moving faster and faster. 

words still fail to leave your mouth, just cute gasps and clipped moans, but mingyu can’t seem to stop breathy apologies from leaving his own. “‘m sorry… you know that right, angel? ‘m so sorry.”

and your eyes just roll back, ignoring his apologies as you’re all consumed by his massive cock fucking in and out of you. mindless babbles escape your lips and it’s not till then does mingyu realize how brainless you’ve become. 

it makes his heart clench. you’ve never gotten like this for him before and he knows it’s a result of being left to your own devices for far too long. he knows he hasn’t been there for you, knows you haven’t been able to cum properly in god knows how long and it hurts him. it hurts him so fucking bad.

and, to be transparent, he’s missed you more than you know.

his hand finds your abdomen, pressing down so he can feel himself thrusting into you. in doing so, his thumb reaches your clit and this seems to bring some life to you. “gyu!” you cry. “feels s’good!”

he lets out an elated chuckle at the sound of your voice, “yeah? it feels good, angel?”

and it’s almost like you read his mind with your next words. “s-so good, m-missed you.” 

a guttural groan erupts in his throat and he starts to fuck you harder– to fuck you deeper– and the thumb on your clit moves quicker, effectively stimulating the swollen bud. “me too– fuck, missed you so much. missed fucking this pretty pussy so much, baby, you don’t even know.”

your face pinches together in pleasure and you clamp his dick harder at the affirmation. “i-i’m–” you let out a gaspy whine and mingyu knows exactly what it means.

“gonna cum?” he finishes your broken sentence. 

you nod eagerly, eyebrows knit together as you feel the formed knot in your tummy get tighter and tighter. “gyu–”

he shushes, thrusts growing erratic. his voice is hot and breathy and you can tell, just by the sound of it, he’s just as close as you are. “just cum for me, baby– need you to let go ‘n cum all over my cock. you can do it.” 

you cry, body going taut as you cream all over him, pussy trapping him between your pulsing, velvet walls. mindlessly, you babble out some words that he can barely make out, but the second he hears those three words– i love you, said in your cute, pitchy voice– his worries wash away. 

he’s overcome by love and the feeling of you gripping him for dear life and the only thing he can do is press his hips flush against yours and fill you up the way he knows you need. his cum paints your walls, fulfilling the craving you didn’t even know you had. 

“god,” he moans, panting out, cock still twitching between your spasming walls. “please forgive me, angel. i promise i’ll be better ‘n make more time for you”

part of your mind finds its way back to you after a few seconds and you can’t help but giggle at his words. “i forgave you after you kissed me, babe.”

he smiles, large hands caressing your body, “really?”

you hum, hazy eyes taking him in, “mmh, you’re really hard to be mad at, you know that, right?”

“good ‘cus i don’t like when you’re mad at me.”

“well, then don’t do stupid things.”

he whines, “baby, you know that’s impossible for me, stupidity is practically in my dna.”

you giggle at the joke. “i know… but… i won’t be so nice to you next time you decided to hang out with wonwoo instead of taking me out.”

“you can be as mean to me as you want, baby, but i swear, i’ll never stand you up ever again.”

“good.” you smile back at him. “now… maybe you can prove how sorry you are again? in my bed this time?”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[whumperwithwings]

BBU Community days April 16th/day 3: Rules

Words: Just over 500

Content: institutionalized slavery, BBU, oblivious whumper, experienced whumpee, lady whumper, self-deprecation for like one sentence, I think that’s it but tell me if I need to add anything else pls

“Okay. If we’re going to have a good time together, we’re going to lay down some ground rules.” The young lady in front of her new pet said, dressed in a white skirt and too-big pink sweater while she loomed over him, her long blonde hair drooping in front of her face.

“Yes, master.” The pet replied from where he kneeled on the floor, the box he had came in behind him. While probably years older than her, he had the air of meekness that was common for a pet that had been in the system for a long time.

“First off, can you ple-” She started to politely make a request of him, before stopping herself abruptly. “Stop calling me master. It sounds like you just got here five minutes ago and are still pre-programmed.”

Ignoring the fact that he had, indeed, just gotten here five minutes ago and was still pre-programmed, he dutifully replied “Yes, Ma’am.” She then immediately made a noise of disgust, prompting the pet to flinch away from her.

That was probably a bad noise, the pet thought to himself, thinking of a million things she might do to a pet that disgusted her not ten minutes after the men from the WRU left to go deliver other pets to their forever homes. If I were a better pet, I wouldn’t cause her to make such a bad noise.

“My gosh, that’s even worse!” She exclaimed, standing up straight “Don’t ever call me that. Call me… Miss. Miss is good.” Her voice took on a tone that was trying to be authoritative, while she used her entire five foot tall self to look down at the man kneeling beneath her.

“Yes, Miss”

“Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s do the other rules. No getting on the furniture without permission, no opening the fridge or the cabinets unless I tell you to, don’t touch my artwork under any circumstances, not even in a life-or-death situation, don’t interrupt me while I’m sleeping, what was the other one…” She trailed off, while the pet was relieved at the simplicity of her ruleset. He had rules similar to those before, and was prepared to deal with simple things like them.

His new master (Mistress? The pet wasn’t entirely sure) suddenly shot up, pointing two fingers in the air. “I remember! Wait here one second.” She said before rushing off, leaving the pet to obediently wait for her to come back. She did so a few minutes later, holding a box with wording he couldn’t make out on the sides.

“Sorry if it took me long, but my mom sent me this!” She said before pulling a pink piece of leather that the pet recognized instantly out of the box. “It’s in my favorite color, it’s very high quality, it even has your new name sewn onto it! Isn’t that nice?” She asked, seeming very pleased with the collar that her mother had brought.

“The last rule that I have: wear this at all times. That way, other people know that you belong to me!”

[calqlate]

SAVE HIM

SUMMARY: If you had to name your biggest regret, it would be failing to save Akaashi Keiji. So, when the time came for you to save him, would you be able to do that?

PAIRING: akaashi keiji x gn! reader

WC: 2298

NOTE(S): based off the 2016 anime orange

A/N: edited and republished this from wattpad! this is completely not proofread so there might be mistakes :") n e ways pls enjoy! ^^

MASTERLIST

If one could change the future, would they do so? If one could erase their regrets from the past, would they do so? And if one could change the future, would they do so?

Because those were your exact thoughts. You knew that if a chance arose for you to redo the mistakes from your past, you would glady do so, all to create a better future with fewer regrets. Or, at the very least, reduce the number of regrets you would be carrying with you into the future.

At present day, you stood in front of the framed picture, tears rolling down your cheeks. The picture was of a somewhat tan boy with wavy black hair and a pair of mesmerising eyes that were a harmonious blend of blue, grey, and green. A dull ache settled in your chest as you bent over and clutched your shirt, with the same few words leaving your lips.

"I'm sorry, Keiji," was all you could say over and over again, as if the boy could hear you, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

There were a million things you knew that you could have done to prevent him from leaving your life for good, but you ultimately failed to do so. Regret-filled thoughts filled your head as you bawled your eyes out.

If only I'd taken his words into more consideration.

If only I didn't anger him like that.

If only I had found out earlier that he was actually hurting, and his smiles were just masks to hide his sadness.

If only I'd done something to make him happier. Maybe he would've stayed.

If only he was still alive.

Ten years after the boy's passing, the chance of time travel arose, so you made sure to make full use of it. You knew that you had to help your past self right your wrongs and do something (at the very least) to change your future. Perhaps a parallel timeline would be created if your past self followed through, and this timeline would be one where Akaashi Keiji was still very much alive.

This was how it was going to work: you were going to write a letter addressed to yourself from ten years ago and send it out to the sea, sealed in a bottle, hoping it will reach the recepient. There was a chance it would get lost, so you were banking all of your faith into the will of the heavens. The letter, as you willed, would detail all the things that would happen (as it did to you) and highlight what should be done differently so that your younger self's timeline could be changed.

You and your friends had sent the letters out together, all for one common goal and one shared regret. Hopefully, something would change, and that a good ending could be seen through for their past selves.

As you sent your letter out, you could only clasp your hands together and pray that it would be successful, and that your younger self would have a different future from you.

Please, you whispered in your head as you closed your eyes shut, Please, no matter what, please save him.

The year was 2012, and it was October. Meaning, it was now autumn, and that half a school year was gone. Just before you left your home, your mother had passed you an envelope that was addressed to you.

At present, you were sitting in your homeroom, and it was way before the first bell of the day would chime. You had plenty of time to relax, so you pulled the envelope out to read its contents. As you scanned the sealed envelope, you noticed one peculiar trait: there was no return address.

That's strange, your brows furrowed as you flipped the envelope back and forth, wondering if your eyes were playing tricks on you, There's no way someone would mail this out to me without writing their own return address.

You sighed, Well, it reached me safe and sound, so I guess there's no need for a return address. Right?

You opened the envelope and pulled out a small stack of folded papers. The papers were the exact size of your small notebook that you used as a journal. You took the very first sheet of paper among the many and read the lines written in neat penmanship:

To the me of ten years back,

Hey there. I'm the ten-year-older version of you, [F/N].

What kind of sick joke is this? You had half a mind to scoff and throw the entire stack of papers away, but you decided to continue reading it anyway. You might as well humour the sender for a little, right?

You might not — no, scratch that. You're definitely in disbelief right now, and you're probably thinking that someone is pulling your leg right now. Well, how about I tell you something that you haven't told anyone before?

Oh, this ought to get interesting, you scoffed inwardly as you continued to read.

Back in the second term, for the sake of passing chemistry, you cheated during the exam and somehow got away with it. You got a good grade on it, too, and you've not told anyone about it.

Your eyes widened. There was absolutely no way anyone would know that; you had not breathed a single word about it to anyone before, not even to your closest friends.

Well, how about it? Do you believe me now?

See, I have a couple of regrets made from some bad choices back in my first year of high school, and I would like you to see that you wouldn't have them ten years later. Trust me.

Like I said, there are many regrets that I have, but there is one that haunts me and will haunt me forever: not doing enough to protect Akaashi Keiji.

You held the papers in your hands. Were these prank letters? No one could possibly send a letter back to the past, right? However, then again, no one knew a thing about the time you cheated on the chemistry test, and it was a dirty secret that you had planned to take to your grave since the very beginning.

In more important news, who was Akaashi Keiji? You had never met anyone by that name, ever. You were also very sure that he was not in your year, at the very least; you had never heard of a fellow first year with that name.

You held the second sheet of paper up, which was written in somewhat of a diary format, with only the important points being written in bullet points.

「 1 October 2012, Monday 」

It's the first day of october and it's autumn. I was heading to the choir room after school. Along the way, I had to pass by the third gym. The door was open, and a volleyball had rolled out, and a boy came right out to collect it. he apologised, and I said, "It's fine, I didn't get hit or anything." He bowed and left. His name was Akaashi Keiji.

After choir practice, I bumped into him on the way to the school gate. He offered to then walk me home.

◎ This is the one time I want you to turn down his — actually, anyone's — offer. Seriously.

The first bell chimed, and first period was about to begin. Quickly, you shoved the stack of papers under your desk. The rest of the journal entry could wait. You had plenty of time to read it and mull it over before the end of the school day, anyway.

You looked at the clock mounted on the wall, which read 3.20 p.m. You folded the letters neatly and shoved it into your bag as you trudged out of the classroom and made your way towards the choir room. True to the letter's word, you did have to walk past the third gym. You stopped and glanced at the gym, noting that the door was wide open.

A chill ran up your spine, So the letter's pretty accurate. Not even a second later, a blue and yellow striped volleyball rolled out and stopped at your feet, and you bent down to pick it up.

"Sorry, did it hit you?" a voice caused you to turn her head towards the source. A boy jogged up towards you, his brows furrowed together in concern.

It was as if time froze as you looked at this guy properly. He had relatively tan skin and curled raven hair that tumbled over his head in an effortlessly beautiful kind of way. As your gaze finally settled on his face, you realised that he also had a ethereal face to match: a sharp jawline, thick brows, a high nose bridge, thin pink lips, and eyes that were a mesmerising mix of blue, grey, and green.

As he approached you, you could not help but think, He's the walking textbook definition of a bishounen. How can such a fine man even exist? Is this actually real life? You blinked a couple of times and still saw the same guy standing in front of you. Yep, he's real all right.

Quickly, you snapped back to reality as time unfroze and moved forward again. You shook your head and plastered a smile on your face, "It's fine, I didn't get hit or anything." You handed the ball to him, "I believe this belongs to you."

"I'm glad to hear that," he said, before giving a little bow, "Please excuse me."

He stood back straight and the cogs in your head began to whir. The letter said that a guy named Akaashi Keiji came to collect the stray ball. Is he the guy? As he turned to leave, you blurted out, "Wait!"

He turned back around to face you and raised a curious eyebrow up at you, "Can I help you?"

It's now or never. You took a breath and asked, "May I know your name?"

His eyes flickered in slight confusion. You were about to tell him that it was alright if he did not wish to answer your question, but he beat you to it by speaking.

"Akaashi. Akaashi Keiji."

Ah, your thoughts came to a standstill as you connected this beautiful face to the name you had seen earlier, So he is the Akaashi Keiji the letter was talking about.

As you stood very still, he bowed again, then turned to return to the gym. You watched him disappear into the gym as questions popped into your head, How am I supposed to save him? What does the letter mean? I'm not even that close of a friend to him, anyway.

You recalled the contents of that day's letter, which showed zero answers to your current questions. And unfortunately, these were questions to be answered later in the future.

Four hours had passed since your encounter with Akaashi. The final bell of the day had rung, and it was time for everyone to pack up and leave the school grounds. The sun had already begun to set, only showing half of itself in the distance, glowing orange-red in the west. The skies were painted a pretty shade of orange-gold, and the clouds were dappled in hues of rose-pink and amber. Students were trickling towards the gate, saying their goodbyes and parting ways.

You were no exception to this. You walked towards the gate, and were saying goodbye to your friends when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You whirled around to see the pretty boy whom you had met a few hours prior before going for choir practice.

"Hey," he said slowly and a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, "You asked me for my name, so I thought I should ask you for yours."

That's a pretty odd reasoning, but I'll take it, I guess, you thought, then replied, "I'm [L/N] [F/N], nice to meet you."

"[L/N] [F/N]..." he muttered your name softly, as if he was trying to get used to it by testing it out, then asked, "Do you live nearby?"

"Yeah," you answered, "I live at the apartment complex near Niihara Park."

"I can walk you home," he offered, then added, "I live pretty close to Niihara Park, too."

You almost snickered at his chivalrous behaviour. Instead, you asked playfully, "Do you normally walk people whom you've just met back home?"

"Well, not really, but—" he let a small smile curve his lips (which almost caused you to blush because you never knew a smile could fit a person so well), then continued in a teasing manner, "I find you different."

You laughed at his reponse, and you let him have his way, completely forgetting what the letter told you to do: to turn his request down.

So under that warm sunset, the both of you walked home together and talked to get to know one another better. For instance, what respective year you were both in ("So I should be calling you Akaashi-senpai," you jested), what they liked to do in their free time, which teacher was the worst, and such. Akaashi walked you up till the front gates of your apartment complex and you bid each other farewell, promising to say hello if you bumped into each other at school in the future.

After you washed up and collapsed into bed that evening, you could only smile blissfully at the ceiling as you recalled the walk home, Today was an eventful day. And it was a pretty good one, too.

However, little did you know, that walk that they shared was just the start of the multiple regrets that you would have ten years later.

[chthonicgodling]

What’s the furthest Loki has gone to protect a kid or to get revenge on someone who’s wronged them ?

thank you!! (attention everyone I am right now accepting eLoki’n’kids questions, pre-Elysium, past-Elysium, current-Elysium— pls humor me ty ty)—

there’s two big answers for this! there’s an entire essay in here of COURSE. firstly though Lemme just — Mission Statement — a quote from eLoki himself!! From way back in (checks notes) …..oh LITERALLY just two weeks ago (wonder what that’s about) -

“My children, they prophesize to end the world, to bring about apocalypses[…] You know I’d choose them any time. Every time.”

so bearing that in mind what’s the furthest Loki would go to protect/avenge one of his kids? UHH

PRE-ELYSIUM FIRST — as we’ll recall Loki’s upbringing was [looks directly at the camera] and despite Odin’s direct series of one million cruelties against Loki’s first six children, Loki’s relationship with his own father was. umm. complicated. getting direct revenge on odin himself seemed impossible, though also held back by the confines of being conditioned to both fear him and somehow STILL crave some sort of approval from him— until uhhhhh Loki finally completely snapped and those confines vanished (rather — warped then vanished?listen…. Listen. Yknow. cmon we. all. know what happened then) lmao BUT that’s not what I’m talking about

Odin’s confiscation of first born Sleipnir was of course traumatizing but many years later, having Hela, Fen, and Jör ripped away from him — all at once — PHYSICALLY — with begging and screaming involved — was further traumatizing enough for Loki to snap for the first time. He easily could have slaughtered the field of armed guards who Odin had sent to tear away the kids (well, teens at the time) but had stopped solely because they’d threatened to harm the three of them. Okay, fine he’d “let” them go, so long as they wouldn’t be injured. They weren’t at least, just separated and banished far away.

So instead thoughts turned to retaliation - not upon Odin himself ever untouchable and despite it all, his own father (the Loki of today LAUGHING at this sentiment, he probably should have just fuckin killed Odin then lmao).

Loki in the action of spiraling paused thoughts of revenge by.. accidentally becoming pregnant with Vali and Nari, but when he moved with them and their mom Sigyn back into the palace, he was in a DARK place only made worse by the constant cruelties of the palace whispering about those three banished kids behind his back. What better way to get revenge then to rip away a son himself, make Odin feel what he’d felt????!

…..okay well. Despite it all Loki couldn’t bring himself to try to murder Thor (yet), who had nothing to do with any of this mess and was— ok I dont need to pontificate about their relationship we know all about that. Instead he fixated and obsessed upon the god Balder — NOT Odin’s actual offspring, but LIKE a son to the king and queen, universally adored by all, a second golden child to pose with Thor (forget the fact that Odin had two children!! Nope THESE were the two golden boys! AAHUHHGHGGH—)

As revenge for what Odin had done to Hela Fen and Jor, Loki killed Balder in cold blood, though secretly (he framed someone else). However— Odin, All-Seeing, All-Knowing, and now thoroughly irritated that his problem child was continuing to ~act-out~ — knew what Loki had done. and retaliated right back, murdering Vali and Nari mere days later.

sssighssss he hadnt been there to protect them - and there was no revenge that time. not right away. this was so completely shattering, utterly completely devastating, it broke him entirely. this loss— NOW THE FIFTH AND SIXTH IN A ROW, and the most horrifying of them all— was enough to shock Loki into numb and dazed acquiescence. stifled rage simmering quietly ever after, but dulled by grief and numbed horror.

…until several years later when Loki would find out he wasn’t eVEN ODIN’S ACTUAL FUCKING SON IN THE FIRST PLACE AND ALL OF THAT LONG SIMMERING RAGE WOULD BOIL OVER INTO—

ahem anyway two movies later

the second big one - was way back DURING Elysium canon - but years ago! after Loki had first ended up down there and taken steps to not be so supervillainy. He’d done the Memory Theater with the palace and they’d all seen the horrible beats of his past, both done to him and done by him. Tory got the spirits of Vali and Nari and returned them to Loki. Loki began to believe he was in a relatively safe place, with people who he could tentatively (under his breath and behind their backs) call his friends. He relaxed— slightly.

He had some fun escapades with Jesse and Laphi — ended up pregnant — panicked and vanished, returned with an egg, hatched baby Fjöer successfully, was assured over and over and over again that Fjöer was loved and protected and nothing bad would ever happen to him, not ever again to any of his children. Fjöer was one of them — LOKI was one of them — they were both safe.

Aaaaand then Fjöer was kidnapped.

Turns out that due to Loki’s previous list of crimes — specifically the uh, GIANT one in New York immediately preceding his Elysium entrance — the Underworld was chock full of shades, y’know ghosts who had DIED during that specific…. adventure. Ghosts who were real bitter about the circumstances of their death and real suspicious of the fact that known supervillain Loki was just hanging around now and — had created a little CREATURE to presumably do nefarious things with???? Several of those ghosts proceeded to haunt the upper world to give a certain,, government agency that I surely do not need to name, some TIPS about where exactly to find and locate this new secret weapon that Loki was harboring and— right under anyone’s noses— baby bird was whisked away.

When Loki found out Fjöer was gone he knew immediately who had taken him and didn’t bother to inform the rest of the palace or ask for help,, he was immediately so consumed with utter blind fury that he just hhh. lost his mind again and set off to fucking kill, and get his baby back. EXCEPT LOKI WAS WRONG??? ABOUT WHO HAD TAKEN HIM!????

due to some unfortunately timed misheard conversations mere days before, Loki blamed Fjöer’s kidnapping on, solely, a uhh one (1) Tony stark instead— he (and the rest of the avengers) legitimately had nothing to do with it, but it didn’t matter, as Loki managed to corner him alone and. left him quite literally on the brink of death. he’d stopped just RIIGHT before— as the smoke……. Blood……. cleared— realizing in horror what he’d done but also realizing in utter panic he was no closer to FINDING Fjöer, Loki did retreat to the palace ONLY then, AFTER attacking Stark. which Tory was. not happy about. …actually furious about. Well. he had tried to hurt his baby :( what was he supposed to do!!! no more would he be letting anyone get away with taking his kids from him!!!

**except Stark hadn’t DONE anything OOPS! Jesus christ well the summary aftermath of all that is - KEEP IN MIND all of this happened completely at once in a glorious horrifying cacophony of drama and chaos — Tory managed to track down Fjöer being ACTUALLY kept by SHIELD, after getting into a huge argument with an out-of-his-mind with-rage-and-panic Loki; Loki feeling INCREDIBLY guilty for retaliating against tHE WRONG PERSON but Tory refusing to let him slaughter the entire shield team; instead redirecting his energy to healing Stark back to liiife and retreating at Tory’s furious insistence—

Tory getting Fjöer back unharmed and negotiating Loki’s safety from consequence by agreeing to keep him in the underworld forever. This was then the direct lead up to Loki being imprisoned, then being pissy enough about that to take over the magic of the Undrworld which I have spoken about at length

IN CONCLUSION —

can’t get much further than any of that. fortunately everyone’s BEEN actually safe ever after so no more revenge murder attempts Loki!!!

fhHfgkg tHANKS FOR ALLOWING ME TO WRITE ANOTHER ESSAY ily

[ofgentleresolve]

@jeoseungsaja​​ sent:

"It's you, isn't it."  At this point, it's no longer surprising to catch a shadow plastered on the dilapidated wall. At this point, he can recognize said shadow; take note of the outline of unmistakable hat. There's a long pause after something that might sound like a revelation; his back facing the vigilante as fingers carefully graze long leafs of Lily of the Valley. A little, saddened smile tugs at his lips, before letting out an elongated sigh. "The one who puts water in this plant once in a while." Touch releases itself from the damp green, turning about so he can address the Black Knight.

He doesn't understand. Doesn't understand why the masked vigilante does these things: comes around whenever he pleases, for as long as the door remains with that shabby lock (a lock Hyuk himself hasn't even changed due to a million penurious excuses; it almost feels like the detective welcomes him through actions, even if his stubborn words might say otherwise) and, on top of that, is observant enough to tell when this plant needs water.

Hyuk knows Nakamura uses the watering can to give the Lily of the Valley much needed showers whenever he forgets to do so, but it's almost impossible for the plant to remain this damp after hours of its last round of water. Plus, he doesn't think it's a coincidence that the leaves have fresh droplets of liquid on occasions he's found the Black Knight inside his office. Truly? He could question him about it, be relentless and ask why he's doing this, why does he even care; continue with worded brawls until one of them lurches forward.

But he doesn't. Instead, he looks down, pretends that he's busying himself with something else as he walks to his desk and takes a paper crane that wasn't there earlier. Suki must've folded some papers around here. Again. He's too tired to mind tonight.

"Thank you." He finally says, in the shape of a whisper more than anything else. "That plant...the--flower---" What is he doing? Is he about to tell him what it symbolizes? God, he must be losing his mind now. Head lifts, looking at the Black Knight and those eyes that unnerve him.

 A hand waves in dismissal.  He can't. He'll be too vulnerable.

 "Nothing. Just...thank you."

(IDK WHAT THIS IS BUT KASHDIUWEDH PLS TAKE IT, I HOPE IT'S OKAY; AS ALWAYS PLS FEEL FREE TO DISMISS IF YOU'D LIKE, HAVE A FANTASTIC DAY FERRE C:!!!) || flowers!! + pain ( unprompted. )

For once, he does not flinch when the detective calls to him. How strange it has become, this ritual between the two of them to convene in Hyuk’s rundown office when the city trades its certainty for the illusion of peace. They both know better; a single lock, even one sturdier than the one Hyuk still has not replaced ( perhaps Patrick should nag him on it although most things roll off his dear friend’s back like water, irritants included. Inspector Im would know; Miss Nakamura would too ) doesn’t guarantee any safety. The best mechanism against danger is AWARENESS.

And yet, here the Black Knight is again, slipping through a window into the office awaiting one exhausted, bitter detective who has lost the plot according to his former co-workers, maybe even the public in general. He winces, a twinge of pain shooting up from his back, where the sutures he received the last time they spoke haven’t quite dissolved, the thread, pulling the skin there taut.

And yet, the Black Knight knows this tenderness isn’t only a physical sensation. Sometimes when he looks at his dear friend, it makes Patrick ache. The source of the pain is never clear in those instances and while he can pinpoint his back as one of the sources this time around, the whole picture remains blurry. The line between tangible and intangible blurs.

Sometimes, Hyuk reminds Patrick of an old wound, crusted from the passage of time. And yet still raw even after all these years: the way phantom limbs will ache even when the said ligament has been severed years ago.

Patrick remains leaning against the wall, the shadows obscuring half of his face, where his hat will not. His gloves are slightly damp from handling the watering can. If Hyuk were to check, there would be reminiscences of warmth wrapped around the handle in turn. The soil seemed on the dry side when he had slipped in through the window. Winters are never kind of flowers such as these. Patrick follows Hyuk’s gaze.

He hadn’t noticed it the first time around, that pot of flowers. He had been too busy, too focused on taking that USB Drive to pinpoint the source of that scent in the office. But it made sense the second time around, that coy scent of spring, lemons, and REBIRTH. A fragrance brave enough to make its presence known, but humble enough to avoid saccharinity. Coy, but not cloying. It settles over the office the same way the grief has settled over Hyuk in a heavy coat.

The Black Knight should be practical. He should tell Hyuk to get rid of that pot- doesn’t he realize it gives him away? Not everyone smells like a lily of the valley, this mute flower that not even the deftest of perfumiers can replicate. To keep such a plant in the vicinity will only invite more danger to Hyuk. And his colleagues.

And yet.

And yet.

“If you’re going to take care of it, do it right, or don’t try at all,” he says, half-heartedly. Perhaps in their earlier days, there would be more bite behind those words. And besides, Hyuk would most likely know better than anyone else how difficult it is to protect someone.

The flower jostles gently under Hyuk’s coaxing. The buddings rustle the way bells might and for once, he imagines something pleasant to accompany it- something like her laughter. Or maybe Hyuk thinks of him. Not the Black Knight, but of a Patrick Grace long since buried.

Patrick hasn’t seen one in years; his favorite flower- a native wildflower to the English countryside that signal the start of spring, a symbol of starting anew. And yet there is one more reason, in a box of memories he stashed away, he can recall for adoring this meek blossom-

“…Do you know you what it’s supposed to represent?” He pushes off the wall and approaches the pot as Hyuk takes his usual seat at his desk. A light scent washes over the smell of smoke and burning for the briefest of moments as his thumb grazes the top of a leaf. “The coming of spring. Humility. Purity of heart. A return to happiness.”

In other words, starting over. Coming to terms after mourning.

Moving on.

( That’s not something Patrick deserves, but he knew that when he put the mask on. The greatest mercy he can ask for is sweet oblivion in the end. )

Hyuk gives something akin to a smile and something in Patrick clenches. ( If it feels something like guilt or regret even, he won’t acknowledge it. ) He lets his hand drop and turns away from his beloved friend, sharply.

“You should take a lesson from it.”

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BBP! You had a post on your old blog about how some multis act when the topic concerns BTS, about how they almost always default to negative views or something like that. Can you pls repost it?

I need to show it to my friend who is already going that route. We got into BTS together last year, I fell deeper in love with them but she got sucked into taekook shipping, then she started hating the company. Now she stans one 2nd gen boy group, one 4th gen girl group and one 4th gen boy group while still stanning BTS. But the only group she's constantly hating on is BTS, the one company she's always complaining about is Hybe, and the one fandom she's always complaining about is Armys even when the other fandom is at fault. Her twitter is filled with taekook posts now and she says those are her favorites, but isn't that just token stanning? She constantly second guesses everything the boys say and when I tell her to stop she says I'm too sensitive to criticism, but sometimes she's not even making sense!

**

Hi Anon,

You sent this some time ago and after digging through my archives, I found that ask which I've reposted here.

About your friend, I'm not really sure what to tell you, but it sounds like she's gone full monty on the ARMY -> Shipper/Multi -> Anti (and anti-adjacent) pipeline.

A few years ago when I noticed this particular archetype of k-pop stan, I found it kind of amusing. I have a small hypothesis on what determines the archetype each entrant into k-pop eventually becomes, but it's not fully formed in my head yet so I'll spare y'all the theories.

In the case of your friend, here's 3 things I suggest:

I suggest you just let her be. Lol. If that's how she chooses to spend her time in fandom, then cool. It doesn't have to be your problem, even if she's your friend and you spend time together. There are millions of people like her, and millions more will come after her - none of these people have ever had any lasting impact on BTS, HYBE, or ARMYs, and I doubt your friend will be different. I suggest you worry less about opinions that don't make sense to you, no matter who they come from or on what subject it is. Ask for clarification if you need to, but if you're staying in a k-pop space, expect to see some wild ass takes, and 'ARMY-multis' are typically front and center dishing those out hot off the press. Just let it roll off and continue with your day. If you spend too much time upset about it, you could get pulled further into those circles and that's another archetype waiting to happen.

*

You can be honest about what you've noticed. From your ask it sounds all these changes are out of character, or at least, unexpected, so maybe there's more to it. And even if there's nothing more to it, that's obviously fine too. It's also possible that you are too sensitive to criticism, so check with yourself to see how true that is. BTS aren't infallible after all (though the theories peddled by this archetype typically go beyond that), so being reminded of that fact can only be a good thing.

*

Focus on what you like. Some people get their high from engaging in fandom by being hyper-critical or 'anti-something'. But I think the healthiest way is to instead prioritize what you enjoy about BTS. The thing about this archetype is that, they're very predictable. Very soon you'll be able to predict how she responds to anything concerning BTS [less so to the groups she actually likes, so re-directing her focus towards those groups (lol) in a positive way, can be one way you maintain a friendship with her], and as her reactions become predictable it's possible you'll get used to it, and soon will hardly notice it. Direct your efforts and time towards engaging positively with what interests you. It won't impact how your friend behaves, but at least you'll be having fun doing things you actually care about.

Good luck. :)

[broflake]

do you remember about a million years ago a group of idiots who hung out on tumblr and referred to themselves as "m hashtag"

Of COURSE I remember m hashtag ❤️ when I finally saw this ask last night, it sent me down a powerful memory lane recalling late night tinychats and a powerfully robust friend group at a time when I felt very isolated in my offline life. It was a lot of fun to tell my partner about. We were a really solid group of friends, and I’ve kept in touch with exactly none of you, but I don’t think it has to stay that way

I was going to respond to this privately at first, but I do recall that we posted big life updates in the m hashtag hashtag and feel I need to do that for the bit. Pls keep your eyes open for a message from me!!

[cupofteaguk]

switching my positions

summary: Fresh out of college, Min Yoongi makes a name for himself amongst his online fanbase as an artist who writes about the ins and outs of falling in love. But when he is signed to a record label, his producer insists that he reveal a public romantic relationship to weed off any potential scandals or dangerous assumptions about the source of his love songs. So who else should Yoongi turn to, but you: his manager—but more than that, his best friend and secret crush. 

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

genre: solo artist!yoongi, manager!y/n, fake dating au, friends to lovers au | fluff/angst 

warnings: yoongi starts off as a musician on youtube but it’s not really highlighted for most of the story, kim seokjin is a Hot Music Executive who’ll take good care of his favorite boy, jungkook gets promoted from a cameraman to a bodyguard and i love to see it <3, nayeon + hoseok cameo as radio show hosts BECAUSE THIS STORY HAS SO MANY CHARACTERS I’M SORRY, IU shows up as a ~superstar~ because i love her so much, it’s a slow burn fic what can i say, mutual pining, actually an idiots to lovers plot tbh ????,  recreational alcohol consumption, POV switches occasionally but i try to make it as obvious as possible as to what is going on, mentions of insecurity, there’s angst BUT IT’S A HAPPY ENDING !!! 

word count: 40.1k 

a/n: big big thank you to @gukyi​ for being my fic consultant for this story! she encouraged me and believed in this story more than I ever could (and contributed like 50% of the foundation that made this fic into what it is), and also reminded me that yes this is a fic so no it doesn’t require one hundred percent accuracy to the music industry despite every discord message i sent her falling somewhere along the lines of “how realistic is this scenario…” she was a very big support for this fic, and this story wouldn’t have existed without her!! 

and regarding the word count… my hand slipped. I’ve clowned this fic a lot over the past month but I am really happy that this is done and so so excited for you all to read it. Pls enjoy!!!!!!! Xx 

.

.

CHAPTER 1: THE DISCOVERY 

.

You’re late. 

Yoongi lets you know that much as you have to shove your way through a rather large crowd of people to reach him. When he turns away from his keyboard to glance down at you, your chest is heaving and your knees are bent in order for your hands to rest upon your thighs. There’s a plastic bag curled on your arm, the hard plastic of CD cases reflecting off the street lamps. 

“Sorry, sorry!” You breathe out, giving yourself a few more seconds to catch your breath. Nothing more, nothing less, because there is a crowd of people around you, currently staring you down, counting down the seconds until the clock struck 8:00—but many people wondering just who were you to shove your way towards the front. “The printer wasn’t working, and do you realize how difficult it is to get your stupid picture into these cases?” 

Yoongi scoffs, walking towards you and holding both his hands out. “Don’t call them stupid, you took the picture,” He hisses, taking the plastic bag from you and rummaging through the many CDs you had to make for him last minute. After ensuring that everything he had asked for is in this very bag, he softens up. “But thanks for getting these done for me.” 

You finally are able to straighten up into a full standing position. “Not my fault you underestimated how many of your wonderful fans were going to show up.” 

Yoongi reaches over and presses his index finger straight into your forehead for that comment. The force knocks you back a few steps, and Yoongi takes your few seconds of distractions to pull a phone out of his pocket. “Just go off to the side, dummy, my show starts soon.” 

“Fine, fine,” You tease back, easy smile, but your hand goes up to take the phone from him. “Break a leg, Min Yoongi.” 

Yoongi gives you a playful glare but he turns away from you to line up his CDs along the now-table next to his set. As soon as he starts placing CDs atop the surface, a small line of people step from the crowd—pointing to the CDs and holding out a stack of cash. Yoongi nods, takes the money, and hands over the CD. This happens a few more times before the line of people have died down. Yoongi looks over at the significantly less amount of cases at his table, and looks over at you, where he flashes a thumbs up. 

As Yoongi steps up to his keyboard and microphone, the crowd around him starts to cheer. The claps echo through the gathering of people, enough to draw the attention of passersby who crane their heads to see who has attracted so many listeners. 

Yoongi’s fingers curl around the microphone. “Hey guys, thank you all for coming out today.” 

The crowd claps back in acknowledgement, a few of them giving their own shy nods and waves towards Yoongi—gestures that the boy responds with his own nods and gummy smiles. 

His attention returns back to the next set of words he’ll speak into the microphone. “I got a couple covers and original songs for tonight, all requested by you guys—so let’s have some fun today.” His voice is deep, raspy and gentle, croaks slightly along the edges, but a perfect reflection of the soothing nature he brings to his audience. 

And you are attune to every single second of it. Of course you are. You blend into the crowd but really your responsibilities for Yoongi lie far beyond just packaging CDs for him and dashing through hoards of people at the last fucking second to make your delivery. You further prove this further by logging into his phone and clicking into the first background music he’s produced for today’s show. Using the music as a guide, Yoongi starts to sing. His fingers dance across the keyboard to bring an extra sound to his performance—to give it that extra live element that his fans love. 

You know that Yoongi has added these additional things over the months because he adores his fanbase and would likely do anything and everything he could to give them the best experience he could offer. After all, they’ve propelled him to this very spot—his own little corner of the bustling city streets amongst all the bars, shops, universities, street food stalls, and cafes. 

As the music continues from one song to the next, and Yoongi shifts his focus from singing to rapping to the in betweens, you see his passion. You hear it in his voice, in the way his lines string together where it seems like the boy doesn’t require oxygen anymore. Months of these live shows, even longer years to get here—and the people around him only continue to watch him in awe. Just like he’s done since the beginning. 

Min Yoongi started off his music career on Youtube, where he uploaded music covers with his own special beat thrown into the mix. Yoongi enjoyed music arrangement (still does), and used his videos as an opportunity to explore that hobby and share it with people who could also enjoy it. And enjoy it people did, as viewers started pouring in and his fanbase grew in the form of positive comments and increasing subscribers. From some videos, Yoongi had always teased the idea of original songs he had written in various notebooks that expressed the wide range of his emotions—overall all the trials and tribulations of growing up: the notion of love in all its forms. Normally, there was always a fear of an audience losing interest at the prospect of original songs, especially coming from someone who previously arranged already popular #1 hits. 

But that never happened with Min Yoongi. His songwriting abilities became part of his brand—became his entire brand. Yoongi always wrote out love to be more than sappy pop songs or tragic heartbreak. He established himself as someone who seemed to speak from the mind of every single person he came into contact with. At least, that’s what his comment section claims. 

In the beginning of his Youtube career, you found Yoongi’s online persona unusual and amusing to say the least, but it was always clouded with an air of sweetness and sensibility. After all, you had known him about a year before Youtube was even an option for him to pursue. The pair of you met in a general ed college class—big lecture halls and voices getting lost in the background as the professors’ voice boomed through speaker systems. Yoongi had asked to borrow a pencil, and the pair of you spent the rest of the class making side-handed comments about the lecture material. You sat next to each other for the rest of the semester and have been friends ever since.

So it’s not like Yoongi’s core characteristics have ever been anything other than caring, thoughtful, or loyal—he’s just never been outwardly expressive about those emotions. But Youtube changed everything: it’s made him a more vocal person, more open about his feelings as well as his need to share those feelings with the world. 

The world responded positively—wrote in the comments that they would love to hear some of his original songs, that he had already provided just a small taste of his talent and left them an insatiable desire for more. 

As soon as you and Yoongi graduated, his commitment to Youtube increased tenfold. With the previous obligations of assignments, papers, and research internships out of the way, it left more time for writing, for filming, for editing, for sharing. As his work levels increased, so did his subscribers. And so did the attention. 

You’ll never forget the day his followers suggested live street performances in one of Yoongi’s neighboring cities—a city street more specifically that was famous for taking in street performances of all origins and talents, a place for him to show off his freestyling on a keyboard and finally meet his fans firsthand. The idea caught on so quickly and vividly that Yoongi was immediately attracted to the idea. He held his first performance just a few months ago, as a thank you present for reaching one million subscribers. If you had trouble materializing Yoongi’s musical success before, the first live performance and meet and greet Yoongi hosted did well to eradicate all those thoughts. 

Hundreds of people showed up—standing alongside the shops, restaurants, food vendors, and cafes that already lined the streets, everyone intersecting to meet the artist who made them feel heard. 

You still remember that day very vividly. Yoongi had been so nervous that day, had worked so hard to put together the perfect set for his fans. Obviously, though, he had nothing to worry about. Soon, one show turned into two, and just like the request for live performances and meet and greets, the question of monetary compensation became a topic of discussion amongst Yoongi’s fans. That’s where the question of albums came into play: a singular place for Yoongi to put his covers and original place—and charge money for it as well! 

As per the request, eventually you and Yoongi decided that exclusive covers and original songs would be part of his album as a way to open up different modes of access rather than take away an individual’s general (free of charge) chance to view Yoongi’s content and just simply support without having to spend money. The introduction of his albums has been a very recent development, something added into Yoongi’s live performances after the tenth show and usually always sold out by the end of any aforementioned show. From what you’ve been able to see as of now, the albums have been a good addition. 

In terms of Yoongi’s current career, you acknowledge that it has always been you and Yoongi—him staying up late for last minute song-writing sessions or recording or arranging a specific set of chords he had been holding off for weeks, or you arranging the time and date of his live shows and fulfilling requests to put songs on CDs and figure out how to market those in an era of streaming services. And if there’s anyone who knows that he has what it takes to get big—it’s you. After all, you would do anything for him. As you would have done from the moment you met him. 

An hour later—after twenty songs and a swaying crowd around him singing along—the last song fades out and Yoongi pulls back from the microphone to catch his breath. Everyone else around him seems to hold onto their own, before Yoongi pulls himself back towards the mic to utter his last words for the night: “Thanks for coming out you guys. I really, really appreciate it.” 

In the midst of the claps and cheers, Yoongi smiles towards the audience, turns around to address the circle of crowd that has formed around him. 

As some of the crowd begins to disperse and some begin to linger for a potential meet and greet, Yoongi hastily remembers to return back to his mic for one last word to his audience. “And thank you guys so much for one million subs!” 

You smile to yourself as members of the crowd acknowledge his thanks with thanks of their own. As you watch Yoongi start disassembling his equipment for the night, you simply stand where you’ve stood for the past hour, allowing the crowd to simmer past you towards their next destination for the time. You pocket Yoongi’s phone into your coat, waiting for a few minutes, before you slip around towards the front of the crowd. There, a boy stands in front of a tripod, and his fingers dance around to unclip his camera from the standee. 

“You get the whole thing, Jungkook?” You ask with the tilt of your head. 

Jungkook whirls towards you, bright eyes full of excitement as he holds the camera with both his hands now. He utters your name. “Oh shit, yeah I did. We’ll get to see how Yoongi’s mic set up works.” He taps to the cord that connects the mic on Yoongi’s clothes and on his piano into the camera. 

You perk up at the sight of new technology. “Oooh, going fancy with us, I see JK. Very future.” 

Jungkook’s grin widens, as it always does when talking about cameras and filmography. “Yes. Future…” He stretches out the word with the exact dips, curls, and croaks the way Squidward does in that one Spongebob episode, which makes you laugh. Jungkook clicks through the video of Yoongi’s set that he’s just recorded, before he clicks the screen off and lowers the camera. “It’ll probably be better if I wait until we get back to look through the footage. I’m sure Yoongi is anxious to get back too…” He looks up towards where Yoongi is supposed to be standing a few feet away, but the younger boy trails off. “Hey, look over there.” He jerks his chin towards Yoongi. “Some guy is talking to him. Do you know him?” 

Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion—none of your college friends had texted saying they were going to come by and listen in on Yoongi’s set—you crane your own neck towards the direction Jungkook is gesturing to. Up ahead, Yoongi is indeed talking to some guy that you don’t recognize so of course it would peak your curiosity. 

It’s a feeling that increases tenfold when Yoongi looks up, seems to find you from his search, and points across the space right at you. There’s even something in his eyes that beg you to walk over to him. This makes your frown deepen, because what the hell is this about? 

. 

Min Yoongi doesn’t allow for too much vocal expression that doesn’t involve the assistance of a keyboard or a music arrangement, but he speaks into the microphone without thinking. “And thank you guys so much for one million subs!” His smile widens as the crowd responds with the claps and cheers of their own—all responding to him and communicating with him. This is it, this is what makes coming out to do these shows all worth it. Obviously there’s a thrill he gets from being in front of a camera and another thrill from uploading a video that people can access from all over the world. But to see the faces of the people who have left positive comments underneath those aforementioned videos… now that’s a completely different kind of feeling he didn’t think he would enjoy so much. 

So Yoongi steps away from the mic to put away his equipment for the day. He only gets so far as to open the case for his microphone and mic holder before he’s hearing his name behind him. Turning around, he is faced with a few unfamiliar and a few familiar fans that are asking him for pictures and a short conversation. He indulges them, of course he does, and he signs a few albums while he’s at it. 

It’s like you always teased him about: he really is a softie for his fans. 

The fan interactions only last for a few minutes, before another voice comes in—it’s a deeper voice and radiates so much confidence and presence that it actually halts the next fan from trying to finish a conversation with Yoongi. All gazes turn towards the source of the voice: it’s a tall man with broad shoulders, pointy boots and a long coat that drapes down, hands stuffed into the pocket of that very coat. He looks like a model. 

The man gives an apologetic smile. “Sorry for interrupting, but I need to request a chat with Mr. Min and am in a bit of a hurry. Do you mind if I cut in for a moment?” 

The fan gives a weak smile. “N-No problem.” 

Yoongi gives his own small smile. “Sorry about that. Oh, here.” He quickly makes a grab for the CD in her hesitant hands, signing his name across the sleek surface. “Thanks for coming by. Have a good rest of the night.” 

Her smile brightens. “Thank you so much!” With a quick little bow, she runs off towards her friends. 

This leaves Yoongi alone with the stranger. “What can I help you with?” 

The stranger extends his arm. “Mr. Min, I’m Kim Seokjin. I’m a music executive. Nice to meet you.” 

Music executive. These two words pique Yoongi’s interest. Just enough. “Wow, uh, nice to meet you sir.” Yoongi can’t help but lower his head slightly in a small bow as he returns Kim Seokjin’s handshake. 

Seokjin waves him off. “Oh, no need to be so formal Mr. Min. I just thought that I should finally come by to introduce myself. I’ve been following your Youtube channel for awhile and think that you’re extremely talented, very capable to be a recording artist, in fact.” 

Yoongi blinks in surprise, completely taken aback by the direction of this conversation. When he came out for his show today, having a conversation with a whole ass music executive hadn’t been on the list of things he was expecting. Of course, it was always a dream of his to be a recording artist. But he thought something like that would always just remain a dream.  “T-Thank you.” 

Seokjin continues. “Honestly, this is the third live performance of yours that I attended. Artists like you who radiate lots of passion and dedication both through the screen and on a stage are pretty rare. But your confidence and presence is quite admirable.” 

At that, Yoongi can’t help but laugh a little. He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I wouldn’t call this a stage, Mr. Kim, it’s just a small street corner.” 

Seokjin laughs. “Fair enough—but you treat this little street corner like a stage and I find that cool. It appears that that’s what a lot of your fans think as well.” He pauses. “Mr. Min,” He starts up again after a moment. “Have you ever considered becoming a recording artist? Signing with a music label, releasing music and being able to reach millions of people? Having concerts in venues all over the world?” 

At the question, Yoongi utters a scoff of disbelief. “I have,” He acknowledges after a few minutes. “Having this youtube channel and these street performances is amazing…” 

“Of course,” Seokjin replies with a nod. 

“But sometimes I do wonder what it would be like to do more than that. So, to answer your question, I have thought about it before. Many times, in fact.” 

Seokjin nods again. “What if I told you that I was interested in signing you, Mr. Min?” 

Yoongi stares at that, stares and stares with unblinking eyes, one hundred percent of his attention on the man standing in front of him—waiting for the signs, waiting to see the laugh or the glint that gives away his prankster tendencies. But none of those things come. Seokjin just stares right back, challenging him to question him and agree to his claim. 

But Yoongi is younger, more naive, so of course he falls for it. “Why would you want to sign me?” 

Seokjin grins. “Mr. Min, I like to think I’m pretty good at spotting talented people who have a fully fledged career ahead of them—which is something my gut is telling me that you can do. And don’t worry, it’s not just the gut feeling I have. Like I mentioned, I’ve been keeping tabs on you for a few months and I’ve seen the numbers and the turn out. You clearly have what it takes to bring fans in, keep them, and create events that’ll drive their attention—and I want to help you make an opportunity out of that.” 

Yoongi hears the words of the older man, he really does, but he still cannot help the feeling of his head spinning at all the positive things Kim Seokjin says to him. Not only that he believes Yoongi has what it takes to make it, but that Yoongi has the concrete numbers to back that up. He is offering Yoongi an opportunity—an opportunity that seemed much too big for his youtube channel to birth, an opportunity that he had always just written off as nothing more than a dream. Yet for Seokjin to say that it could be more than that? And for all of this to happen on a normal performance night? 

Was Yoongi about to faint right now or what. 

Seokjin takes in Yoongi’s stunned silence and smiles. “I understand that this could be a lot to take in. No worries. I have a card for you to take—so call me when you make up your mind, alright?” He rummages into the pocket of his coat before producing a business card. The name KSJ RECORDS is printed on the surface, shiny lettering in sleek font. 

Yoongi takes it wordlessly. 

“By the way, do you have a manager?” Seokjin asks. “You can have them reach out to me if that’ll make it easier.” 

Yoongi stays quiet for a moment. He doesn’t have a manager; he never really saw the need for one if his schedule was as simple as it was. After all, it was more than enough for him to handle with you—! 

His mind explodes, as if someone had just plugged it into an outlet. His gaze flickers to you, where he sees you now standing just a few feet away next to Jungkook. You’re already staring back at him, but your head tilts slightly as if you could read his internal struggle. Before Yoongi can even figure why he’s looking at you, his body seems to act on its own. His arm raises, finger pointing straight at you. “She’s over there.” 

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, seeming to read something in his gaze that even Yoongi couldn’t figure out. Still, you walk over to them. “What’s going on?” 

Seokjin acts first, turning towards you and giving you a nod in greeting. “Hi there, I’m Kim Seokjin. Yoongi says you’re his manager, is that correct?” 

You blink, caught off guard by the question because you definitely were not Yoongi’s manager. He knows that you know this. You give Yoongi another look, and his eyes widen at you, poorly attempting to transmit a singular message: please. 

You understand immediately, of course you do (you’re his best friend), as you turn back to look at Seokjin. “I am, it’s nice to meet you.” 

The pair of you shake hands. “I was just telling Mr. Min over there that I was interested in signing him to my company. I’m a music executive for KSJ records, and think that he would make a great addition to the team.” 

It takes you a second to process the news, but you do so quicker and much more graceful than Yoongi could ever hope to do. “Oh my gosh, are you serious?” You turn to look at him, bright-eyed. “Yoongi, that’s amazing!” 

“He hasn’t made a decision yet,” Seokjin continues to explain. “I don’t blame him, it’s a lot to process. I just told him that he could have you call me once he made up his mind. Then, contracts could be drawn up.” He pauses for a moment, then seems to scramble on something when you don’t say anything immediately. “Of course, you would remain his manager. I’m sure that he’s gotten as far as he has with your help. I would want you part of Mr. Min’s team regardless.” Seokjin composes himself quickly afterwards. “Like I said, take some time to come to a decision and let me know. Let me give you my card as well.” He mirrors his previous movement at Yoongi towards you now until you have his business card between your fingers. 

“W-Well,” You start, lowering the card and offering up your hand. “Thank you so much for coming by, Mr. Kim. We’ll be sure to send you a response soon.” 

Seokjin takes your hand carefully, giving it a firm shake. “I look forward to hearing from you.” He turns to Yoongi. “And I hope we’ll be able to work together, Mr. Min.” 

Yoongi blinks, but he snaps himself out long enough to return Seokjin’s handshake. “Y-Yes…” He replies, still feeling completely starstruck by what the fuck this encounter had just been. “T-Thank you for stopping by…” He trails off. He stays quiet as he watches Seokjin give one last departing word before he’s turning around and making his way down the street of the city. 

When he regains some of his attention back, he turns to find that you’re already staring at him with an unreadable expression across your face. “Let’s head back,” You say at least, holding up the business card. “We have a lot to talk about.” 

. 

“No way,” Jungkook utters, completely shocked as he practically throws himself onto the couch in the living room. His camera equipment has been set down near the door, too much exhaustion present in its owner for the trudge back into his room. “You got casted today? That’s incredible, hyung!” 

“I-I didn’t even realize what was going on,” Yoongi grumbles back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I still wonder if that moment even happened or if I conjured it up in a strange fever dream.” 

You raise your hand slightly. “I was there. Can confirm that it was real.” You dig the business card out of your pocket and stare down at it. 

Jungkook hikes himself deeper into the couch as he turns on his phone to start scrolling. “I gotta know who this guy is. Kim Seokjin you said? Of KSJ records?” 

“Yeah, KSJ records,” Yoongi replies, looking down at his own business card. “He seemed pretty legit.” 

A whistle from Jungkook confirms that. “Yeah, he’s definitely real. And look at that!” Jungkook turns the phone over to expose the photographs of Seokjin. “Used to be a singer as well. I bet he knows a lot about the industry.” 

Yoongi nods. “He did seem nice.” 

“So, does that mean you’re planning to meet up with him? Get signed and all that jazz?” 

“All that jazz?” Yoongi echoes, but he shakes his head before he could go off on that tangent. “But honestly? Yeah, I’m thinking about it. I really do love youtube and do want to continue that, but I just feel like there’s more for me to explore with the right connections.” 

Jungkook grins. “Wow, I can’t believe my roommate is gonna be famous.” He says the last word with a bite of curl in his tone, flashing a teasing smile when Yoongi merely glares in embarrassment. Jungkook’s eyes flicker further back towards where you are standing in the apartment, calling your name to get your attention. “What do you think of the idea, Miss. Manager?” 

You perk up at that. “Before I get into my answer—when did I suddenly become your manager? I don’t remember us ever having that conversation.” You’re situated in the kitchen, drumming one hand on the counter and using the other hand to stir some last night boxed mac and cheese. 

Yoongi coughs at your observation, sinking himself further down into the couch. “I didn’t want Seokjin to think I was an idiot or something for not having a manager. But when I do officially make up my mind…” He angles his head to stare over at you. “You’ll do it for me, right? You’ll actually be my manager?” 

You frown, hesitant. “You’re serious about asking me? I don’t know anything about being a manager though.” 

Yoongi almost pouts at that, sitting up so he can whirl around completely on the couch to face you. “But you know me and my music career almost better than anyone! And you graduated with a business degree, what do you mean you don’t know anything about being a manager?” 

You flush hotly at that. “It was just a general business degree, Yoongi, it seems like what you need to make it big is a legit artist manager! Someone who will actually know how to schedule your tour dates or keep up with your public image and know exactly how to market you to the general public. You really want me doing that for you?” 

Yoongi gaps at that. “Okay, but who’s the one who literally schedules my street performances and helps me with editing my videos?” 

“Jungkook does some of the editing too,” You grumble underneath your breath. 

“Yah! Stop selling yourself short!” Yoongi interjects, pointing at you accusingly. He does, however, lower his finger long enough to turn and address his roommate. “Not that you don’t help out with any of the editing, Jungkook…” 

Jungkook waves him off. “I know where my talents lie.” 

Yoongi turns back to you. “Besides, Seokjin acknowledged that you and I basically come as a packaged deal. He saw that you were working just as hard to get me my gigs.” 

You give him a one-shouldered shrug, the hesitation still laced in your tone. “I don’t know Yoongi. I just don’t want to fuck up and jeopardize your shot.” 

Yoongi’s attention is one hundred percent focused on you now, so much so that he has made his way into the kitchen and has come so close that he can switch off the stove that held the macaroni and cheese. “Hey, listen, the only reason I’ve even been given a shot was thanks to you. You work just as hard as me to keep my channel up and running—and you already have another job on the side, so you don’t have to do anything for me. But you do.” He plants both his hands on your shoulders and twists you around. “Would you be my manager? Please? I seriously don’t trust anyone else enough to do this for me.” 

You sigh, staring down Yoongi as tensely as he’s staring you down. He sees the flicker of continuing hesitation in your eyes, and responds with just tightening his grip on your shoulders—trying to convey as much pleading as he could to you. Honestly, if you rejected his request, he knows that he wouldn’t be able to do this without you. 

So when you seem to realize that he won’t give up, you sigh and look down for a moment. “Damn that I can never say no to you, Min Yoongi.” 

Hearing those words of confirmation, Yoongi’s gaze hyper focuses on you. Even when you look back over at him, you don’t look away and that merely confirms the unspoken question of your participation. 

When he realizes that you aren’t going to outright reject him, and that you’re actually on board for him, Yoongi’s face lights up as he immediately envelops you into a hug. “Thank you! Thank you—wow, that means a lot to me.” 

You suck in a breath at his words, tensing slightly at his words, but you eventually learn to relax long enough to pat him slowly on the back to return his hug. “Don’t thank me yet,” You grumble into his shoulder. “We haven’t even had a meeting. I may not be able to negotiate as well as you think I can.” 

Yoongi shakes his head at that, tightening his hold on you. From his close proximity to you, he doesn’t notice the way your breath seems to shake and your heart seems to quicken. “It doesn’t matter,” He reassures, finally backing off. “I don’t care if you don’t know how to do all those fancy manager things. Like I said, you’re the only one I could trust to do this.” 

You stare at Yoongi for a few more seconds before you sigh in defeat, knowing that you’ve just put all your thoughts and feelings on the table for him to react to. “Alright then,” You say, placing one of your hands across your chest and onto your shoulder—atop his hand still lingering. “I’ll make the call tomorrow then.” 

Yoongi nods. “Thank you.” 

There’s a brief silence that covers the pair of you, before a voice rings from the living room. “Do you mind bringing the mac and cheese over here?” 

.

.

CHAPTER 2: THE REQUEST 

.

One year later, and you learn that the crowds from Yoongi’s street performances are nothing in comparison to this. This—overwhelming and unmatched in all degrees, the screams and the cries and the shoves, all of it echoes around you just as it has for the past few months. Surprisingly, you’ve always been okay with being a little more firm if the situation called for such and today is absolutely no exception. 

“Off,” You say gently, tapping an outstretched hand trying to get past you and grab at the person behind you. 

The girl you’ve intercepted jerks her hand back as if you’ve burned her, her eyes wide and vaguely hurt as if you’ve singled her out specifically from this crowd. Rather, it’s more along the lines of keeping your client safe and trying to avoid the incident from last week. You block the memory out for the time being. 

You feel a hot breath at your ear. “If you make my fans cry, I swear—!” 

“Try to be less desirable then,” You bite back over your shoulder, holding up your hand when another fan tries to shove a sharpie past you. “Sorry, but we’re in a bit of a rush,” You say to the boy. “Come to the next concert—we’ll have a meet and greet then too.” 

The boy deflates, but that expression only lasts for a second before he seems to brighten slightly at whatever has just occurred behind you. Stealing a glance, you realize it’s because Min Yoongi has just thrown him an apologetic wink. 

The car appears in view a lot quicker than you had been anticipating, which is good as you muster all your energy to pull the handle that opens the car door. You step off to the side, further cutting off the fans who are trying to keep Yoongi from entering the vehicle. Soon enough, a taller and more dominating figure appears next to you as Yoongi manages to slide his way into the back seat. You and Jungkook exchange a nod—you had been in the front of Yoongi’s protection squad and he had been in the back, and the arrangement continues to work wonders. As long as Yoongi doesn’t lose a whole sleeve (like last time) then you would consider this departure a success. 

Jungkook tilts his head towards the still opened car door, allowing you to enter the car yourself. As soon as you’re settled, Jungkook leans forward to join you. He slides his way into the seat all the way in the back of the car. Closing the door behind him, you signal Taehyung to take off with a nod into the rearview mirror. 

The screams and calls of Yoongi’s name are loud, and pass through the metal structure of the car as if it is nothing. But you know that the boy doesn’t mind, and that he lives and breathes moments like these as he has for the past few months. 

It’s crazy to think how much a year could change, after you and Yoongi decided to meet up with Seokjin to discuss how Yoongi was going to be signed under KSJ records. Seokjin had talked about the big plans he had in pushing Yoongi towards the spotlight—and goals like an album, a concert, and meet-and-greets around the country had been promised for Yoongi’s first year. 

And of course, Yoongi was completely enchanted by the promises. Just one final ‘of course’ confirmation to have you as his manager, and Yoongi was signing on the dotted line. Truth be told, you didn’t know what KSJ records would have in store for Yoongi—how long that glimmer of passion would remain in the boy’s eyes. 

A year later, and you acknowledge that you might have underestimated Kim Seokjin. As a former performer, he knew all the ins and outs of the music industry and his well established connections as well as his good ear for good music meant that Yoongi was allowing his music to get the treatment it deserved. Pair that with Yoongi’s growing popularity on Youtube, and it all equates to an EP that debuts with tens of thousands of copies sold within the first week. The EP itself hadn’t been much—just six songs that contained a mix of old songs and new songs, but all written by Yoongi. His previous (although small) experience with producing and arrangement allowed him constant access into the various studios at KSJ records, where he learned from all the other producers on how to make good music.

The hands-on, personal touch Seokjin allowed Yoongi to deliver in his music had been a good call and a large contributor to the success of the EP. You recall fans praising the album and talking about how it matched Yoongi’s youtube aesthetic perfectly, but just with the higher quality element that top notch equipment could bring to music. 

In a way, the current atmosphere of concerts and meet-and-greets is just a way to celebrate the success of Yoongi’s music career launching off into the stratosphere. 

“Hey.” There’s a gentle tap against your head, and you jump before turning to face Yoongi in the seat next to you. “You good?” 

You blink, bringing your finger up to brush the hair out of your face. “Yeah, just spaced out.” 

“Cool. I thought you might have fallen asleep.” 

“If anyone should have fallen asleep by now, it’s you,” You point out. “I think that today’s meet-and-greet was the largest one you’ve had so far.” 

“Don’t worry,” Yoongi says. “I have every intention of following asleep as soon as I fall into bed. Plus, don’t let me hold a pen for the next week—I think my wrist almost fell off.” 

You laugh, angling yourself so you can face him. “But you love it, don’t you?” 

Yoongi’s gaze softens as he lets your question sink in. “Course I do. I never realized how cool it would be to have an audience sing my lyrics back to you. More than that, it was all lyrics I used to write in the apartment, or in between lectures back at college, or late into the night on my phone… back when the idea of all this was just a dream.” He pivots his body towards you, eyes bright as the passion for his current place in life seems to have gotten him hyped up again. “You know, during the meet and greet, this girl came up to me all confidently and told me that my album got her through a tough time. I think that’s when it really hit me that this was all happening.” 

The corner of your lips quirk up into a smile. “Oh yeah, I actually do remember you writing those songs and you showing me the lyrics. You speak from the heart, and your fans understand that. Helps that you’re pretty cute too. Anyone with eyes could see that.” As soon as those words escape your lips, you almost want to chide yourself and immediately throw yourself out of the car. Why would you say something like that—why would you openly admit to Yoongi’s cuteness? Your face grows warm at the realization, leaving you to hope that Yoongi won’t notice your flustered state. 

Yoongi doesn’t notice. He’s too busy gawking at your observation, too busy tearing his gaze away from you to stare firmly out of the car window. 

Jungkook simply shifts his gaze between the two of you. 

In the midst of the silence, you fish out your phone and start scrolling through your social media pages. Due to the third party cookie ads that follow you around, you immediately notice news of Yoongi’s concert of the day has started hitting various news sites—most articles praising Yoongi on his song selections and live adaptations of his music to suit the concert style more. Reading these articles leave you unable to stop the grin, because Yoongi deserves this so fucking much that you could have sworn your heart sings a little as you continue reading. 

It’s a moment that lasts for only a couple of seconds, as recommended articles start coming up that do well in setting up the gray cloud. With the increased amount of attention that comes from being a newly top rated best selling album artist, so does the intrusion into personal life that follows—the dark side of the media, the side that just loves to stick its nose in places it does not belong. It’s something that you had been seeing since Yoongi’s youtube account hit five hundred thousand, but at the time these kinds of questions were more dark shadows or curious inquiries taken in the form of casual comments. 

Now, those questions have become much more normalized, as a common curiosity seems to have taken form from all these drama articles: was Min Yoongi dating anyone? And even better: who is Min Yoongi writing all his love songs for? 

As if love was limited to romantic relationships, and wasn’t a feeling one could recreate from other love songs or romantic comedies. Or just the feelings of growing up. 

“We’re here!” Taehyung calls from the front seat, as you jump up from your train of thought. Refocusing on your surroundings, you realize that you’ve made it into the parking lot of the hotel. 

You sigh, regathering your belongings that have moved around during the drive. “Thanks, Taehyung.” 

“Hey.” Taehyung utters for you to come closer to him as soon as the pair of you step out of the car. He jerks toward Yoongi, who is exiting from his side of the car before quickly side-stepping to let Jungkook come out as well. “Was that flirting back there?” 

You protest hotly at once, your hand raising up and wave side-to-side frantically in complete denial. “N-No, it wasn’t—!” 

“Okay, good,” Taehyung interrupts, leaning back to stuff his hands into his pants pockets. “Because if that was the case I think we would have had to re-evaluate your definition of flirting—!” 

“Will you stop?” You squeak. 

“Is everything okay?” Yoongi asks, having rounded around the car to stare over at you and Taehyung. 

You whirl around quickly, tightening up your expression once more to make sure that any remnants of your conversation with Taehyung would be undetected. “Yep!” You say immediately. “Everything is fine. Let’s get going, yeah?” You allow Jungkook to lead the four of you out of the parking lot and into the elevator that’ll take you to the main floor of the hotel room. Yoongi has to slip on a pair of glasses and a baseball cap, just on the off chance that a fan might be staying in the same room—it happened a few stops ago—before the four of you are making your way through the lobby. The four of you have reserved four separate rooms for your overnight stay in the city, rooms that you have already checked into earlier that day, so it feels nice to just make your way to the elevator and select the correct floor. 

Taehyung decides to check in first for the night, waving you all off and congratulating Yoongi on another well done performance. Jungkook lingers around as you make your way to Yoongi’s room next. 

“Thanks for walking me,” Yoongi says, sliding the key card into the slot and pulling out when he hears the beep of confirmation on his door. 

Jungkook flashes him a thumbs up. “Good show today. Now get some rest.” 

Yoongi nods, just about to close the door when you make a sudden noise from the back of your throat. “OH!” You call out suddenly, startling both boys as you reach your arm out suddenly to prevent Yoongi from closing the door. He had been so close too. “Sorry, I just realized. Seokjin sent me an email of some deadlines he wanted me to go over with you. Your sleep is gonna have to be put on hold.” 

Yoongi grumbles something under his breath. 

You turn to look at Jungkook. “We’ll be fine, Jungkook, go rest up—you deserve it.” 

Jungkook nods, grinning at Yoongi. “See you guys around.” 

“No fair…” Yoongi pouts as he watches Jungkook stroll down the hall to reach his hotel room. “Why do they get to rest and I don’t? I’m so tired…” 

“Well, this is the price of fame,” You retort with the shrug of your shoulders. “You have your face the paparazzi want to see, and the name that sells the albums. Naturally, it means you just have to put in more work than everyone else.” 

Yoongi runs a hand through his hair, still pouting but less so as he opens the door once more for the both of you to enter. “When you put it that way…” 

You giggle behind him. “For the fans, Min Yoongi.” 

You immediately task yourself with throwing yourself atop his bed, surprisingly put together despite the fact that you had checked everyone in earlier that day. You would have assumed he would have taken a nap. But the bed doesn’t look slept in at all. 

Yoongi notices your observation immediately. “I was too nervous to fall asleep earlier today,” He provides, taking a seat on the couch on the other side of the room. “So what was it that Seokjin needed you to go over with me?” 

“It’s short, I promise,” You reassure, pulling out the iPhone from your pocket. As soon as you unlock the device, you’re faced with the articles you had previously been looking up—the ones about Yoongi’s dating life. Without meaning to, you sigh heavily at the sight. 

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow. “What’s up?” 

You jerk up. “Oh, no, nothing sorry. I just…” You hold the phone up for Yoongi to see. “These articles about you and your dating life—it’s getting worse.” 

“Oh.” Yoongi’s fingers fiddle with each other. “Yeah, I’ve seen a few of those floating around too. Honestly, for someone who writes a lot of songs about love, these curiosities don’t really surprise me. I wish that they wouldn’t be so intrusive.” 

“Unfortunately, people always think it’s their right to know who these love songs are for.” You spare him a quick glance, only to realize that he’s already staring at you. Hastily, you look back down. “If the songs are even for anyone, that is.” 

Yoongi is quiet for a moment. “Right.” 

“Anyways…” You exit your internet app, tapping through until Seokjin’s email comes up. “Seokjin just wants to know your progress on the new songs. He’s trying to gauge your progress so he can see whether or not to arrange studio time for you to start recording.” 

The new songs—it’s a reference to Seokjin’s next plan for Yoongi’s career. With the launch of the EP and the current success that it has been harboring, it makes sense that the next step would be to launch a full-length album. Technically it could be called a repackage, since the album would most likely feature a few songs from the EP and cover the rest of the spots with new music. 

But aforementioned new music takes time to write, not that Yoongi ever had a problem with writing music. That has always been second nature for him—and was something he could do anywhere so long as he had a functioning, conscious mind. It was all just a matter of whether or not he could create the required number of actual songs within the scheduled deadline. With those higher expectations, time definitely plays the biggest issue and it makes sense if Yoongi couldn’t write proper songs given the current circumstances. 

Nonetheless, Yoongi nods at the question. “I actually have rough drafts of most of the songs, if that was okay with Seokjin. We could probably schedule some meetings to polish up the writing, since a lot of them are still in the beginning stage.” 

You blink at his answer, surprised by his response. You had been expecting one, or maybe two songs to be written out but to have all eight songs written out? “W-Wow…” You utter. “You wrote so many songs so quickly.” 

Yoongi shrugs, but he does look a little prideful at your words. You don’t notice his lingering gaze. “I have a lot to reflect on, what can I say.” 

“I-I mean,” You stammer, not really hearing his response. “I could schedule the meeting with Seokjin, but if he knows that you have everything basically done, he’ll probably be okay with giving you a little more time to polish up your work yourself.” 

Yoongi ponders this, but he shakes his head. “No, go ahead and schedule the meeting. It’s actually nice having extra hands in the music.” 

You nod. “Alright then, I’ll go and do that. I think I should also just go over tomorrow’s schedule with you.” Quickly, you relay the time details of what tomorrow’s day will look like since you’re flying out for another show the next morning. You give him some details about the stage, how many people are going, and how many people he will be meeting afterwards. It’s a standard review conversation, one of the many that you’ve had with Yoongi over the year. “And… that should be it,” You wrap up as soon as you’ve reviewed the day. Looking over the schedule once more, you cannot help but sigh once more. 

“What is it this time?” Yoongi asks from the side. 

“Oh, no nothing!” You reassure with a promising smile. “Just another busy day.” 

Yoongi gives you a grin, but you can see the exhaustion clinging to the corner of his eyes. “There’s only a few more stops left of the concert—what happened to you being positive rock?” 

At that, you laugh nervously. “Sorry, sorry. You’re right.” You clench a fist in front of him and pump it up to showcase a display of energy. “Another day of excitement and one more day towards fulfilling your dreams!” You lower your fist and give him a slightly dryer look. “How was that?” 

“I could have done without the look at the end, but it’ll do, I guess.” Yoongi stands up from his place on the couch and throws himself atop his bed. His head ends up near you, his back on the mattress, and his feet dangling off the side. “There’s only a few stops left of the tour, and for some people this is their first time seeing me live. And for other people, maybe they saw me back when I would perform on the streets, so in that case it’s their first time seeing me perform on a stage and everything!” He lifts one of his hands up into his field of view. “Either way, I just want to do the best I can for the people that take time out to come see me and support me. Because I owe them everything—I owe them more than what I can give them.” 

You don’t say anything to that. What could you say, anyways? Instead, you reach over and run your fingers through his hair. After a second, you retract your hand. You shouldn’t let yourself linger for too long anyways. “It’s late,” You say, a tone of finality in your voice. “I should head to my room. I’ll make sure to let Seokjin know your update.” You slide off the bed into a standing position. “You should get some rest.” You turn to him. “You may not think you can pay back your fans, but you probably help them out every single day. The same way they help you out too.” 

Yoongi tilts his head back to see you. Upside down, but still look at you nonetheless. He grins. “There’s that positive energy I was looking for. Thanks.” 

You laugh, already making your way towards his hotel room door. “Thank me by giving me another kickass performance tomorrow. Makes my job a whole lot easier.” 

. 

The following weeks of concert tours pass by without a hitch. To Yoongi, any event now that doesn’t end up with a torn sleeve and nail scratches up and down his arm is a success. And you haven’t freaked out for the remaining dates as you had when security had been at its worst—so he’d consider that the icing on top of the cake. Although he’s glad to finally be be home and be anchored to his own bed and be in his own space for the first time in months, he knows that his first concert experience to celebrate his first EP had truly been a memorable undertaking. 

And it had been more successful than anyone at KSJ records could have predicted. At least, that’s what Seokjin tells him when Yoongi arrives at the studio the following day to start going through the process of polishing up his song lyrics. 

“It seems that you really enjoyed yourself throughout the tour,” Seokjin remarks as Yoongi steps into the former’s office. Seokjin is scrolling through some articles on his laptop. He closes it as Yoongi takes a seat and regards the younger boy with a look of curiosity and wonder. “How was it?” 

Yoongi brightens. “So much fun. I didn’t realize how cool it would feel to have audience members sing song lyrics right back at me, but that was probably my favorite moment.” 

“Ah, of course, first time for everything as they always say.” Seokjin folds his fingers atop one another. “And how was your team?” He says your name, given that you are Yoongi’s manager. “Along with Jungkook and Taehyung? I wish I could have given you more people, but we didn’t know how crazy moving you around was going to be.” 

Yoongi nods. “I mean… it was fine. Jungkook was really good.” He can’t help but think that Jungkook should have been good—after all, Yoongi is the reason why Jungkook has been getting safe with job security recently. “And Taehyung too. I think having the small team was good because we ended up all getting really connected and had this whole system in place after a few stops.” 

“I heard a fan tore your sleeve,” Seokjin points out, looking mildly concerned. “How did that go?” 

“Oh, it was just a one time thing,” Yoongi tries to brush off with the wave of his hand. He thinks of you, because of course he does. He mentions you. “She would tap the fans who were getting too close. It was reassuring, honestly.” 

“That’s good to hear,” Seokjin says. “And I’ve heard that you’ve been making a lot of headway with the upcoming album. So we’re definitely gonna set some time for us to go through the lyrics and structure what you’ve come up with already. But I did want to go over something with you first—the main reason I called you in, actually.” 

Yoongi tilts his head. “Okay, what’s up?” 

Seokjin re-opens his laptop, and clicks through a few links before he’s pivoting the laptop in a 180 degree motion so Yoongi can see the screen. At once, he’s faced with several articles, all centering around the topic that has been haunting him since the beginning of his concert journey. He gets a flashback to one of the nights you came into his hotel room to discuss scheduling, and how you had mentioned this particular topic showing up more and more.

Yoongi had known it was becoming a problem. He just didn’t think it was something that required urgent discussion. 

“As I’m sure you’re aware, your growing popularity means that people are developing a growing interest in your relationship. Since you are labeled specifically as a song-writer who writes songs about growing up, struggles, and love, this only heightens people’s curiosity.” 

Yoongi allows Seokjin to continue talking, as he moves forward in his chair to actually scroll through one of the articles Seokjin has pulled up. It’s entitled: UP AND COMING SINGER SONGWRITER MIN YOONGI IS DEFINITELY IN A RELATIONSHIP, BUT WITH WHO? As he scrolls down, there’s several people that are listed as potential girlfriends to Yoongi’s partnership—some people he does not know at all, some people he has only seen once. 

You’re on the list too, and Yoongi’s eyes widen when he identifies your picture amongst the lot. He zeroes in on the description underneath the simple title: Yoongi’s manager? Although most manager and artist relationships are platonic, we can’t leave this one out! Fans have tracked down Min Yoongi’s current manager as an old assistant from Min Yoongi’s youtube days, so there’s definitely some history between them! 

“This article has been blowing up. You may or may not know, but people making assumptions about your relationship status could be dangerous. Since you write songs about relationships, it leaves a lot of room for error and scandals, especially if news sites decide to publish something or someone else with bad intentions try to claim you wrote a song about them. Or something else of the sort.” 

Yoongi nods slowly at that, not entirely understanding what direction Seokjin is going with his build up. It makes sense though. Leaving Yoongi out in the open like this could be dangerous for his career. “S-So, what ideas do you have to combat that?” 

“I’ve been thinking about this in the recent weeks you’ve been on tour,” Seokjin says quietly, pressing his hands together. “I think that we should push your relationship status into the public—get you a girlfriend to maintain your ‘pure romantic heart’ reputation so it looks like you’re writing love songs solely for your girlfriend.” 

It takes a second for the words to sink in. “Aaaaah,” Yoongi finally says, but his voice sounds far away all of a sudden, the further time seems to creep on. Sure, he’s seen this concept of surface relationships between in film and television—and the idea of it makes some sense. For someone whose best songs were related to moments of being in love, surely most people would suspect that the inspiration for those songs had to come from somewhere. If Yoongi came out to admit his lack of relationship experience, would people approve of that? Or would they think he was lying? 

In that regard then, it makes sense that Seokjin would come up with the idea. But faking a relationship for the sake of faking a relationship has never been something Yoongi thought he would ever have to go through. 

Mainly because first of all—who would play Yoongi’s girlfriend? 

Now, Yoongi isn’t the worst actor in the world. But he can be stiff at times, and if Seokjin wants to push a relationship status into the public eye then Yoongi imagines that this girlfriend would be someone Yoongi felt the most natural around. Someone he wouldn’t mind pretending to be in a relationship with. 

Would Yoongi even get a say in the matter? Or would Yoongi’s approval be the only requirement before Seokjin went off to find a girlfriend for Yoongi himself?

“D-Did you have someone in mind?” Yoongi finds himself asking instead. 

Seokjin hums, tapping his chin with his finger. “Not at the moment. I just wanted to bring it up with you in case you had an idea for someone.” Mindlessly, he reaches to take back the laptop and flip it back towards him. This exposes him to the article Yoongi had been previously scrolling through—one where pictures of you are plastered over the current screen. 

At the sight, Seokjin wavers slightly, staring down your pictures and furrowing his eyebrows. Yoongi looks over, noticing immediately that the laptop (and the pictures of you from that article) is no longer right in front of him but rather in front of Seokjin instead. When he glances over at Seokjin, he finds the older man lost in thought, running the side of his finger across his lip. Back and forth, clearly pondering something. 

“Yes…” Seokjin says after a moment. “That could work, actually.” He looks across the desk at Yoongi. “Good idea, Yoongi. I think originally, I would have said no, but these pictures and this description actually makes a valid point.” 

Yoongi blinks, not really connecting the dots right away. “Uh, sorry, Seokjin, but I’m not really following…” 

Seokjin makes a noise, gesturing to his laptop screen that he has just gotten back from Yoongi. “You were suggesting Y/N as your fake girlfriend, weren’t you? I’m assuming that’s why you stopped on these pictures. My initial thought was that it probably wouldn’t work, but actually considering your history with each other it seems like this could be the most likely case scenario.” 

It takes another second for the information to fully process. You. His fake girlfriend. Seokjin misunderstanding that unintentionally stopping on your pictures meant that Yoongi was trying to convey some sort of message. 

You—playing the role of his fake girlfriend, the ‘supposed’ inspiration for all his music. It would be funny if it wasn’t so ironic. 

It would be funny if you didn’t inspire all of his music—but you do. And Yoongi isn’t laughing.  

He should say something. He knows that it would make sense, as Seokjin is claiming, but it would also potentially inch him towards a can of worms he has been so sure would never see the sunlight. More than that, having you as his fake girlfriend would bring him the closest he has ever been to feeling hopeful. 

He really should say something. 

But for some reason, the words don’t come out. He just lets Seokjin believe his ingenious plan. “Yes, yes!” Seokjin continues after the many moments of silence that lapse between the two of you. “This could work actually. You guys have known each other for years, and older fans of yours from the youtube days would definitely recognize Y/N. That way, the announcement of your relationship wouldn’t seem entirely out of line, especially if we say that you guys have been dating for years. It also makes sense that we could say you becoming Yoongi’s ‘manager’ was always part of a cover up—after all, that’s what they did in that movie That Thing You Do…” 

The more Seokjin drones on and on about his plan, and how exactly he intends to work up to it, the more nervous Yoongi gets. Was Seokjin actually planning on doing this—enlist you as Yoongi’s fake girlfriend and drag you along to participate in this facade? Yoongi is mildly shocked. He should have known Seokjin would follow through on the question, but he had just assumed that today was just the idea phase and that plans to arrange this fake relationship would take weeks. 

But if there’s anything Yoongi knows about Seokjin, it’s that the man knows how to get something done. Quickly, too. In Seokjin’s word, it’s a natural occurrence for a simple idea phase to morph into actual concrete plans within the time span of a day. Yoongi should have planned this out better—but then again, he didn’t think that him accidentally stopping on a picture of you from a fucking drama article would serve as the catalyst for Seokjin’s ideas. 

Yoongi straightens up onto his feet. “Why don’t I talk to Y/N first about this?” He asks. “The idea may seem good on paper, but if she’s uncomfortable then it’s a no go.” 

Seokjin studies Yoongi carefully, before the former relents. “Okay, fair enough. Let me know what happens.” 

As soon as the pair of them exchange the last nods, Yoongi is dashing out of Seokjin’s office with one clear objective in mind: to talk to you. 

Luckily, you aren’t too far away. You’re in your office, typing up something on your laptop and your eyes scanning through what he can only assume are emails. It’s eyes that widen when Yoongi practically storms into your space, shutting the door behind him. 

You straighten up. “Yoongi, you alright? You look like you just ran a marathon.” 

Yoongi doesn’t even realize that his chest is heaving until you point that out. He coughs. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Didn’t run a marathon though.” 

Your eyebrows furrow, but the corner of your lips turn up in mild curiosity. “Okay. What’s up?” 

Yoongi presses his lips together. Even with the many feet of space between the two of you—he can make out the glimmer in your eyes from the sunlight pouring through the window, he can see the shadow of your eyelashes and the line where your collarbone dips below your blouse. Fuck, he’s in deep. There’s no way he could ask you something so monumental to the downfall of his sanity. But he knows that it’s too late to just walk away. Partly because he’s already in your office and partly because the idea has already been planted into Seokjin’s head. And if Yoongi didn’t speak up, then Seokjin was going to. 

So Yoongi opens his mouth. “I may or may not have gotten you into a situation,” He starts up. 

You snort, of course not taking him seriously. “That might just be the summary of our relationship.” 

“No, I don’t think you understand…” Yoongi pleads, stepping deeper into the office. 

You frown at his behavior, closing your laptop this time to address him completely. “Okay, what’s up, really? You’re kind of scaring me…” 

“Oh, don’t worry, it’s not… scary or anything…” He trails off. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Let me be the judge of that.” 

So Yoongi shoves his hands deep into his coat pocket, and slides next to your desk, leaning against the surface as he starts his story. He covers everything: from Seokjin bringing up the drama articles about his relationship status, how he had scrolled through and saw your name, how Seokjin had misinterpreted that as a sign, and worse of all, how Seokjin thought it would be a good idea for you to play as Yoongi’s fake girlfriend. 

To say you’re appalled would be an understatement. You’re staring up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. “Are you serious?” You ask. “B-But I’m your manager!” You scoff at yourself. “No, more than that—I’m your friend, Yoongi. Seokjin must be on something. He has to be. What did you guys decide on? Please tell me that you said no.” 

“W-Well, there was no agreement or disagreement,” Yoongi argues weakly. “I walked out before Seokjin could make up his mind.” He pauses for a moment, something sinking in. “Wait a minute,” He brings up, a slightly teasing smile across his face. “Do you really find the idea of dating me that gross?” 

You make a noise in the back of your throat at his accusation, and you immediately begin to scramble. “I-I mean,” You start, the flush present in your throat as you start speaking very quickly at once. Both your hands go up in a defensive position. “It’s not that I don’t find you gross… because I don’t! You’re a very attractive person—it’s just that—we’re friends and—stop looking at me like that!” You stand up, slamming your palms onto the table when you realize that he’s just flashing you a shit-eating grin. 

He has half the mind to be mildly disheartened that you are so against the idea of dating him. But then again, he’d probably say no to fake dating you if he was being forced into a situation like this. He’d definitely say no. 

Okay, he’d probably say no. 

“Well, I told Seokjin that if you were uncomfortable with the idea, then it’d be a no go and he seemed to respect the idea.” 

Still standing, you sigh and press your face into the palm of your hand. Your fingers brush through your hair. “Okay, let’s step back for a moment.” You remove your hands from your face. “If I were to say yes, what exactly would that entail?” 

Yoongi manages a weak one-shouldered shrug. “I’m not sure exactly. Seokjin would probably have a better idea of that. I imagine KSJ records would release a statement about our relationship, and we would be scheduled to go to variety shows or press interviews together. We’d probably have to go out to restaurants together too. Hold hands…” The thought of holding your hand dries up his throat a little, but he passes it off well by faking a cough. “That sort of stuff.” 

You glare at him. “And what about your fans? You’re trying to preserve this ‘pure romantic heart’ image, but I’m sure there’s a lot of fans that like to believe the songs could be about them.” 

He shrugs. “That—I’m not too sure about. I imagine Seokjin prefers the idea of my fans believing that my heart only belongs to one person rather than them believing that I’ll just write a love song for anyone.” 

You nod. “That’s valid, I guess.” 

Yoongi stares at you from the smaller space of distance between the two of you. “Again, you don’t have to say yes. Frankly, I think it’s a batshit crazy idea.” 

“It’s not… completely out of line.” After a moment, you sigh. “I can actually understand why Seokjin would get the idea of trying to set you up like this. The news articles will probably get worse. And since your songs market themselves on being personal, people want to know who the songs are about. If Seokjin gave the public a face, then there’d be no room for assumptions and even less room for scandals to come about.” You give him a look. “Sadly, if you were to stay single, there’s only so much I could do as your manager to control that bad press.” 

Yoongi raises both his eyebrows up. “Does that mean you’re saying yes—?” 

“I’m not… saying anything yet.” You plop yourself back down into your seat. “I’m not saying yes. But I’m not saying no either.” You sink further into your seat. “Hopefully Seokjin will change his mind before I have to make up mine?” 

That’s an unlikely case. But Yoongi doesn’t argue with you, and you don’t wait for him to. He simply nods one more time before leaving your office. 

.

You would be lying if you said you never thought about dating Yoongi. Of course you have. You’re sure that you’ve had a crush on the boy within the first week of your introductions. This crush explains so many of your past actions—your support for his Youtube channel, your fulfillment as his manager, and now this pull towards agreeing to become his fake girlfriend. And you hate yourself for the every second you consider it a good idea. 

Because it’s not a good idea. It’s a terrible idea. More than that, it’s an unfair idea. Agreeing to fake date someone you actually want to date seems like too cruel a hand to be dealt. Considering your more-often-than-not fragile state, setting yourself up with Yoongi in this way already seems doomed to fail. It would be unfair to Yoongi, because agreeing to this would deprive him of an actual relationship he could be happy in. But it would be more unfair to you, because losing control would mean losing your best friend. 

So you don’t give Yoongi a positive confirmation. But you don’t give him a negative one either. See, you don’t have the heart to just outwardly reject him, because you know that he needs you to help him with this. You know that he understands the situation he’s been put in, and that getting a fake girlfriend seems to be the best case scenario. You know that it wouldn’t make sense with any other girl—it had to be you. Saying no straight to face is something that you don’t have the heart to do. 

Rather than give a yes or no answer, you opt for the second best option: hold off and avoid indulging too deeply. 

It’s a strategy that works for a grand total of one day. 

The following day post Yoongi’s conversation, you show up to work with information that Yoongi is going to start recording songs for his new album. His first full-length album, at that—something he has been working hard for since the beginning. Every second of free time available to him during the tour, during off-days had been dedicated to writing the music necessary to fill the album. You know how hard he’s been working—you’ve watched throughout the duration of his tour, and spoke to him for many nights about the progression of this album. 

You just didn’t think that the recording part would be coming around so soon. 

This is a thought you reflect to Seokjin when you enter the recording studio. Yoongi is already behind the glass, and his voice is amplified in the studio, where they appear to be discussing the arrangement for how a song is going to go. This leaves you vaguely surprised—if Yoongi is in the booth already, it means that there must have been some ground covered on how the arrangement was supposed to go. Just how long has Yoongi been in the studio before you showed up? 

“Ah, good morning,” Seokjin greets from the back of the studio, seated on the couch and his arms resting along the back. “Don’t get mad, but Yoongi worked through the night again.” 

Your lips part into a gape as your eyes widen in disbelief. “Please tell me you’re joking,” You return. 

Seokjin merely laughs in return. “I wish I was! When I left, he was going at it with Namjoon and when I came back this morning they were still going at it. But, you know, who am I to rain in on a breakthrough moment?” 

You relent your control of the situation slightly (only slightly) at Seokjin’s rhetorical question. Namjoon is one of Seokjin’s top producers and arrangers—very gifted in songwriting and how to make a good song. From the year that you and Yoongi have been a part of KSJ records, Yoongi and Namjoon have gotten along great and their close relationship has been the reason for many late nights. The pair of them were always caught in the drift of making sleepless but record-selling hits. 

Like Seokjin said, who are you to interrupt art in progress? 

Although you have a sudden flurry of desires and objectives (mainly to reprimand Yoongi for being so careless with a slap or a hit where you could put him to sleep yourself), you bite it down long enough to shed your jacket and rest it on the armrest of the couch. “Fine, fine, I’ll let it go this time.” 

Seokjin chuckles at that, removing his gaze from you and sliding it across the studio back into the booth where Yoongi is still in the midst of discussing something with Namjoon. Something about how the arrangement isn’t as smooth or on beat as they had originally intended. “You’re a good manager,” He says at last. “I can tell that you really do care about him and will definitely give him a peace of your mind once he’s done with today’s session. And what’s more…” He laughs. “He’ll actually let you walk all over him. You’d be surprised how often I see managers in it just for the money, where they don’t have their artist’s best interest in mind. You’re definitely not like that.” 

You slide into the vacant seat next to Seokjin. “If I don’t keep an eye on him, I know that no one else will. It’s nothing against other people, but no one else in his life is as involved in his career as I am. But I’m his friend first, and his manager second.” 

The pair of you are quiet for a moment, as you watch Namjoon fiddle with some of the switches on the music panel. They seem to come to an agreement on the newly modified beat, because it starts playing through the speakers in the booth. Yoongi presses his hands against the headphones he’s wearing, and starts to relay the lyrics into the microphone. It starts off slow—Yoongi has his phone in his hands to read the lyrics, to double check the flow and the tempo. After a few lines, he stops. “Ah—let’s reword this line. I do like the change we made to the music, so let’s change the lyrics to match.” His voice is amplified through the studio. 

Namjoon presses a button on the music panel, allowing him to communicate with Yoongi. “Sure. Want to head in and make the changes?” 

Yoongi ponders this for a moment, but shakes his head. “Give me a second. Maybe if I listen to the song again, I can feel what I vibe with.” 

“Sounds good.” Namjoon releases his hold on the button, and turns around in his chair to face you and Seokjin. The sight of you makes his eyes widen, as Namjoon coughs back a choke. “O-Oh, Y/N, you’re here—!” 

His words make you narrow your eyes as you point a finger at him. “YAH! Which one of you was it that contributed to your all-nighter?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t know!” Namjoon protests, raising both of his hands up in defense. “We were both in the groove!” 

You lower your finger with a sigh. “You’re lucky that you’re in the middle of helping Yoongi achieve his dreams. Otherwise I’d kick both of your asses.” 

Namjoon seems to realize that you’re not messing around, because he emits a nervous laugh. “I promise we’ll be a little more careful next time…” 

“Oh, Namjoon, I rewrote some of the lines!” Yoongi calls from inside the booth. 

Namjoon whirls around in his chair again to press the button. “Sounds good, let’s do it.” 

As the music starts up again, Seokjin decides to speak up once more. “Yoongi told me that he talked to you about the little fake dating plan I had.” 

The mention of it, as well as your previous internal insistence of not talking or thinking about that, makes you stiffen. “He might have mentioned something like that.” 

When you turn to look at Seokjin, he has an unreadable look glinting in his eyes. “Since you were talking about achieving Yoongi’s dreams and all…” He trails off. “I wanted to apologize for bringing that idea onto you so quickly. I didn’t really consider how you’d feel about the arrangement. I just wanted to try and do what I thought was best for Yoongi.” 

You sigh. “I know why you thought of the idea. And I totally agree with you—I think that if he wants to carry on, this is the least costly next step that should be taken. I just… I don’t know if I’m the best fit for it.” 

Seokjin nods. “I respect your decision. After all, Yoongi told me that if you were uncomfortable with it, then it’d be an immediate no go.” 

The corner of your lips turns up upon hearing Yoongi’s thought process. Even though you’ve already heard the words from the man himself—it’s nice to hear that assurance from his boss. Knowing that Yoongi puts your thoughts and feelings on the forefront of his mind is a nice feeling. A misleading feeling if you let yourself think too deeply into it. But a nice feeling, nonetheless. 

You decide not to comment immediately on Seokjin’s apology; rather, you tune into what exactly Yoongi is singing about in the song. It’s got a softer beat to it—an opening song to the album, perhaps? It’s much more whimsy compared to his hard-hitting personal rants that touch on the frustration of miscommunication, of not saying something when he should have said something. 

Instead, this is a song about distance—about missing someone due to distance and the longing of returning home because of the normality it brought. About how even closeness sometimes isn’t enough to fill the gap of desire in his heart. It takes on a beat you’ve never heard before, and a feeling of missing something that isn’t even tangible for you as a listener. Nevertheless, his words, his raspiness, and the hard lines hidden within the otherwise soft tone of the song work hard to poke at your edges and your weak spots. The parts of you that have always been willing to cave for Yoongi, the part of you that has never hesitated to do what needed to be done if it benefited Yoongi. 

You were his manager, so you always want what’s best for him. But you’re also a friend who has been in love with him for years, so you will do whatever it takes to get him there. 

You hope you don’t regret this.

“Actually,” You admit quietly, but it’s loud enough to perk Seokjin’s attention. “I’ll do it.” 

Seokjin blinks, clearly trying to process your words right off the bat. “You’ll…” He trails off.

You look away. You have a feeling that if Seokjin looks at you for too long, he’ll see your emotions spill out across the entire fucking studio. “Do the fake dating idea.” 

Seokjin fumbles a little. “H-Hold on a second—are you sure? Seriously, I’m not trying to pressure you or anything. Since you’re the one least adjusted to being in the spotlight, a lot of this pressure is going to fall onto you. I don’t want you to say yes and then regret it later on… so maybe you should think a little more about this…” 

You steel yourself. It feels a little bit like holding your breath. Finally, you spare Seokjin a look. “I won’t regret it,” You say. “You and I both said that Yoongi needs me to keep going at this pace—I was going to get roped in eventually, so I think it’ll just be easier if I agree now rather than drag this thing around for a couple of months. Besides…” You try to relax a little in your seat, but it’s hard to tell if you’re being convincing or not. “It’s nothing too serious right? You just want us to go out together, hold hands occasionally, speak highly of each other… We already do half of those things but it’ll just be emphasized now. No big deal.” 

Seokjin is wearing that unreadable look in his eyes again, like he knows something that you don’t even know yourself. “You’re right,” He settles with after a long pause. “It’s nothing too serious. You’ll probably have people also digging into your space though, but we’ll make all the necessary arrangements before any sort of announcement.” 

“If that’s the case,” You reply. “Then I’m sure it’ll all be fine. Besides.” You try for a smile. “It’s all just fake anyways, right? As long as the ones who really matter know that, then I don’t really see the harm in it.” 

Seokjin only continues to stare at you, before he relents. You know just as well as he does that your decision is one of an adult, and that if you really had a problem with something you would vote your opinion without hesitation. No matter if he can somehow read the thoughts in your head. 

At last, he nods. “We might need you to sign another NDA but…” He extends an arm out towards you. “Welcome abroad, Min Yoongi’s girlfriend.” 

You laugh a little, hollow but still present, as you reach over to take his head. “We’ll start having problems if that nickname becomes a regular thing.” 

Seokjin laughs a little louder, a complete opposite of his more quiet and observant side displayed just a few seconds ago. “Don’t worry—just for formalities. HEY, Namjoon, let me talk to Yoongi for a second.” He practically throws himself off of the couch and towards the music panel where Namjoon and Yoongi are still mid-discussion about another aspect of music you do not understand. Namjoon relents, pushing himself and his chair off to the side as Seokjin comes up to press the button on the panel that allows for discussion between the booth and the studio. “Hey, Min Yoongi, there’s been some discussions behind the scenes. Say hello to your new girlfriend!” 

There’s a brief silence in the studio, and Yoongi’s eyes immediately bug out of his head like this is the last thing he expected to hear on this very casual Wednesday morning. Knowing the agenda for the day, it probably has been. “What?” Yoongi says after a long moment, his voice amplified by the speakers in the studio. 

Seokjin turns towards you, jerking his head at the booth, and you get up with a sigh. You approach the music panel where Seokjin and Namjoon are currently situated—and aren’t sure how to feel when you see the way Yoongi’s eyes widen at the sight of you through the window. 

Still, you cannot help your own weak smile as you lean in towards the microphone. “Hi honey,” You say. 

Yoongi continues to stare at you, before his lips part and his face takes on a very unusual shade of red. “HUH?” 

. 

. 

CHAPTER  3: THE ANNOUNCEMENT 

. 

KSJ records releases a statement within the next following days, and it gains momentum like nothing you’ve ever seen before. 

HELLO, WE ARE KSJ RECORDS. 

Recently, we acknowledge that many fans have developed a curiosity about the relationship status of our newest artist Min Yoongi. The release of his latest EP and the undertaking of his concert has left many questions regarding who he writes his songs for—and many of the different assumptions made by people around the world could leave very dangerous and lasting impressions on people that our artist sees as platonic. We want to respond properly and say the truth. 

Min Yoongi has been in a relationship with his current manager, Y/N, for the past three years. When Min Yoongi was first signed to KSJ Records, they were already in a relationship and Y/N was assigned the task as Yoongi’s manager given her experience working alongside him during his Youtube career. They have good feelings about each other, and have agreed to make this information public to avoid future misunderstandings. KSJ Records and Yoongi hope that you all will support their relationship as they continue to navigate through Yoongi’s growing career together. 

You cannot help but laugh a little at the statement, which is flying so close to the truth that it might as well have been your reality. And in a way, it is. You’ve already prepared, molded your online presence just barely to meet these new expectations to the new facade you have to put up. 

And it’s not like the announcement actually changes anything in your daily life. In the days leading up to the post, you had decided to delete your Twitter account (you weren’t making much use of that platform anyways—what, with all the thirst accounts for Yoongi that you were stumbling upon due to internet cookies and the algorithm), and archive a fair number of your Instagram photos on an account that was already set to private. For someone who didn’t live and breathe social media, it wasn’t too hard to rid of that element in your life. 

One thing you hadn’t really accounted for, however, were the news stories that wrote about you in the hours following the press release. Several of them were base-level lists about your childhood and how your relationship with Yoongi could have festered—most of which were correct given that older fans of Yoongi knew what university he attended and how you were also a student there. But that information is generally public, and it’s not like you attend the university anymore.

Other than that, there are a few comments on your looks, a few assumptions on your personality. But surprising, there’s nothing too severe. At least, from the surface-level information you can collect from just doing a basic google search. Social media would probably be a more difficult battle, one that you would need nerves of steel and a hardened heart in order to navigate, but like mentioned: professionally managing your own personal social media isn’t exactly your forte. 

Over the next week, you follow Seokjin’s advice to lay low and let the news of your relationship with Yoongi continue to spread through the ranks. You spend that time in your apartment, answering a few messages from friends and family but doing what you could to keep the information as limited as possible. You assume that too many people knowing, regardless of how close or trustworthy they were, sort of went against the NDA you had to sign. And you’re not sure how your friends would react if they found out you were only dating Yoongi for a cover-up. Especially since some of them actually are fully aware of your feelings for him. 

Regardless, you carry on. Yoongi sends you some screenshots he takes of supportive messages from his fans wishing the both of you the best in your relationship, and he also sends you some memes about your relationship that make you laugh. His fans have a good sense of humor, what could you say. 

However, a week is the most you allow yourself to hide away within the comfort (and boring nature) of your apartment before you’re already texting Seokjin with news that you were showing up to the studio. 

Surprisingly, Seokjin doesn’t question this. He calls you. “I was just about to ask if you were going to come over anyways!” He says in a rather upbeat nature. “So it’s good to hear that we’re both on the same page.” 

So you step out of your apartment, dressed up in your usual work uniform and feeling much more put-together than you had been for the week you were ordered to remain quiet and lowkey. There’s something exciting about stepping out after being unable to do so for an extended period of time—and it shows in the little bounce that occurs with every step that you take down the sidewalk. Since you usually take the subway to work, you decide to dawn a bucket hat with a face mask tucked over your nose and mouth to blend in just enough but not so much so that your strange fashion choices could draw attention. 

It doesn’t, and you enjoy the rocking of the subway racing down the tracks as you peer out of the window quietly. KSJ Records is just a few stops away from your apartment, so you waste no time standing out and stepping out as soon as the doors of the subway open at the right stop. You bound up the stairs, through the familiar pathways you’ve always taken to get to work, and after a few blocks, you arrive at the building of KSJ Records. 

As you shoulder open the door, you greet the secretary behind the table, who smiles back at you. “Oh, good morning!” She greets cheerfully. “Seokjin is waiting for you in his office. I believe Yoongi is already with him.” 

You nod. “Sounds good, thank you so much!” You bound deeper in, navigating through the different hallways until you arrive at Seokjin’s office. True to the word from the front desk, Yoongi is already there. He looks surprisingly meek for someone who has been trending on Twitter for a few days, but you suppose that he’s still trying to adjust to the fact that Seokjin’s plan is already in motion. After all, he didn’t even get the final say before Seokjin started taking the situation into his own hands. The last he had heard of it was your apparent agreement before Seokjin drew up a company statement for him to approve. 

A part of you feels guilty—but Yoongi had been the one to ask you first! Perhaps he’s still in that normal state of uncertainty. After all, you feel like that as well. 

“Good morning guys,” You greet as soon as you register who exactly is in Seokjin’s office. You close the door behind you as both boys turn to acknowledge you. 

Seokjin grins. “Hi, thanks for coming in.” 

You wave him off. “You gave me the week off. I was starting to get a little restless.” You take a seat in the other vacant chair, in front of Seokjin and besides Yoongi. “What’s up, Yoongi?” 

Yoongi is already looking at you when you turn to greet him, but as soon as you ask your question, the corner of his lips quirk up into a vaguely uneasy and nervous smile. “H-Hi honey.” 

You freeze at that, immediately furrowing your eyebrows as you produce your own nervous smile. “Hi?” You return. “What the fuck are you on?” 

Seokjin interrupts before Yoongi can get an answer in. “Stop, stop, you’re way too stiff, Yoongi!” 

“Well, I’m trying!” Yoongi spits, before looking back at you with an utterance of your name. “Sorry, Seokjin wanted me to try treating you the same way I would treat a girlfriend. Apparently I didn’t do too hot.” 

“Not apparently, you just didn’t do hot at all,” Seokjin retorts back, flashing you an apologetic smile. “We were trying out a few moves easier to see how well you guys can adjust from having your normal manager slash artist relationship to displaying a long term, healthy and happy romantic relationship. It’s one thing to say that you guys are dating, but you guys do need to have something of an act ready.” 

You fold your fingers over each other, your mind on a dissociation for the briefest of seconds as the realization sinks its teeth just a little deeper. Holding hands and saying cute shit to each other had been easy to talk about in passing dialogue to Seokjin—but actually having to do it is a hurdle you hadn’t considered to the fullest. 

“I mean…” You speak up after a moment. “What if we’re just one of those couples that aren’t handsey with each other? Or don’t need that lovey dovey look in each other’s eyes to prove that we’re in a relationship?” 

Seokjin ponders this for a second. “True. But if we’re starting this, there needs to be a full level commitment on the act. If people start questioning the legitimacy of your relationship, that would be an even worse scandal than just letting people make assumptions about Yoongi’s relationship status in general! We definitely, at least, need to develop a basic level of your relationship, and then you guys can work around your own varying levels of comfort. This is something that we need to get rolling as soon as possible, because you.” He points at Yoongi. “Are booked in the next few days to do some radio interviews. And you.” He points at you. “Are going to go with him, as his girlfriend.” 

Even though you had known the label was coming, you can’t stop from feeling hot all over at how you were now technically Yoongi’s girlfriend. 

“So,” Seokjin continues. “How about I give you a base level of what I’m looking for. And we can do a few practice runs to make sure you guys are comfortable enough with these expectations?” 

Yoongi nods, leaving you little option but to do the same. But the thought from the recording booth bubbles up again: you hope you won’t regret this. 

. 

A few days later and you don’t think you’ll regret the outcome of this situation. But you’ll definitely get a little sick on the way. 

“I don’t know if I can do this,” You say in the car. You’re sitting in the back, next to Yoongi, staring straight ahead at the passenger seat before you. “And stay all in one piece,” You add as an afterthought. 

Yoongi glances over at you, looking nervous enough to admit a pout. “At least you don’t have to say anything—I’m the one doing all the talking…” 

You huff out a breath. This is true. You’re just here to play the supportive girlfriend, the agreeable partner who’ll publicly accompany Yoongi to a public event since a public announcement. Seokjin says that doing this with the lense of a romantic relationship makes you seem friendly, open, and supportive of the relationship. You’re not too sure how public perception is shaped, but you understand where Seokjin is coming from. Tagging along to an event as a girlfriend instead of a manager makes you and Yoongi seem free. Like you have nothing to hide. 

Only in reality, it’s the complete opposite. With everything coming out to the surface, you have everything to hide. 

It only takes a few more minutes of driving before you arrive at the radio station. The instructions for today’s assignment have been easy: get out of the car, and walk the many steps needed to reach the entrance of the station. The empty step ahead is surrounded by paparazzi and fans, all screaming and shouting—trying to get their fill of Yoongi. 

You sigh. You could do this. You and Yoongi have been practicing for the past few days. Albeit, ‘practicing’ just mainly consisted of the pair of you walking down a hallway close together. It was more lackluster than anything else, and you don’t think it was entirely productive use of time. Seokjin seemed to think that the pair of you needed to work on a closer level of proximity. But you know the truth about your feelings, and know that the complications will come from just being too close to him. 

Yoongi unbuckles his seatbelt and is already moving to tug at the handle that’ll open his side of the car door, immediately exposing him to the walkway along with the flashing cameras and loud screams. Before he can pull all the way, however, he stops short. You’re about to ask what the problem is, before he angles towards you and flashes you that grin he has when he’s thinking of ideas you wouldn’t approve of. “I have an idea,” He breathes out, quickly reaching over to grab your hand. 

You stiffen at the contact, trying to ignore the flash of your heart speeding up in your chest. You and Yoongi hadn’t agreed on this—if you had, maybe you would have been a little more prepared for the situation! Oh god. 

On instinct, you try to wiggle out of his grasp. “What are you doing?” You hiss. 

Yoongi gives you a dry look, reaching over to grab your hand again. “Calm down,” He argues back, lacing your fingers together for extra measure, like that’s gonna be the thing to help you calm the fuck down. “This’ll help sell it, okay? Just trust me.” 

Leaving little room for arguments, he squeezes your hand briefly before loosening it enough. He pulls the car door handle, pushing it outwards, and stepping out into the wild. People notice his appearance immediately, because the screams grow louder as Yoongi uses his unoccupied hand to wave and bow towards those who have come out to see him. 

You trail behind rather helplessly; the hand connected to Yoongi pulling you out of the car. Yoongi stays near the door, staring down at you with a rather watchful gaze that only leaves you feeling hotter than before. Still, you don’t speak of it as Yoongi steps back just enough for you to step out of the car. “You okay?” He asks. 

You nod, readjusting yourself with one hand before Yoongi starts to pull you alongside him to walk the distance towards the radio station entrance. Although you want to engage slightly with the crowd, your nerves keep you mainly at bay, forcing you to angle your head downwards just enough to avoid any serious eye contact. Yoongi keeps his gaze ahead, walking a rather brisk pace towards the radio studio—where security leads the way in opening the door for the pair of you. Whether he’s walking fast because he doesn’t want to keep up the charade of holding your hand for so long… or because he can feel how sweaty your palm is getting. You don’t know. 

It’s only a few more steps before you and Yoongi are entering the building for the radio show, where Jungkook is lingering near the entrance. He’s on his phone, probably having just made a call with Seokjin about your arrival, before he spots the two of you entering. “Hey guys, how was it?” 

Yoongi nods. “A little loud, but I think it went alright.” 

Jungkook’s eyes flicker down to your intertwined hands. “Wow, you guys are committed,” He comments. 

You seem to remember that your soul has returned to the body that is still currently holding hands with Min Yoongi. Alarmingly, you take your hand back. “Y-Yeah, Yoongi thought it would be a good show for the people outside! No biggie—just a simple hand holding technique, people do that all the time!” You realize that you’re rambling. 

Yoongi, oblivious as always, raises an eyebrow. “You okay?” 

“Y-Yeah,” You manage. “Why do you ask?” 

Yoongi is about to answer, before an intern shyly approaches the three of you with an iPad in hand. 

“Are you all under Mr. Min’s team?” She asks, fishing out some badges when you nod in confirmation. “Okay, so make sure to take these so everyone knows who you are. Mr. Min? I can lead you to the studio you’ll be interviewing in, if you’ll follow me—did you need me to grab a soda for you?” She begins listing a series of questions about his well-being, leaving you and Jungkook behind in the hallway with your newly acquired badges in hand.

Jungkook, observant as always, gives you a look. “What was that all about?” 

“Huh? I-It was nothing…” You trail off looping the badge around your neck, meeting Jungkook’s eyes and realizing that he’s wearing a shit-eating grin. The same kind of grin that Taehyung gives you when you’re standing too close to Yoongi. Your eyes flare. “WHAT DO YOU KNOW?”  

Jungkook laughs. “Calm down, calm down, Taehyung and I gossip a lot on the side—hey, what the fuck, don’t hit me—we’re in a public place!” 

You relent your aggression, but only slightly. You lower your arms as well. “Just—don’t tell Yoongi.” 

Jungkook levels with you a dry look. “Do you think I have a death wish? C’mon, let’s head over.” 

With a hesitant sigh, you relent and let Jungkook lead you down the halls of this studio, until the pair of you find a door with Yoongi’s name written on the white board. There’s a darkened LIVE light panel above the frame, indicating that Yoongi’s radio interview hasn’t started yet. There’s some people lingering about, who nod and open the door for you when you present your TALENT badge at them. The inside of a radio booth is similar to the recording booths Yoongi has found a home in as of late. There’s people in this current room, headphones on and monitoring what’s happening before them while being surrounded with sound panels and laptop screens. On the other side of the glass is Yoongi, and the main hosts of the radio station, Jung Hoseok and Im Nayeon. 

From your side, you can hear their conversation amplified through speakers in the studio. They’re all currently joking around about external matters—it makes sense too. Yoongi has been on this particular radio show a handful of times. 

“Okay, okay, you guys,” Hoseok speaks after a few more minutes of playful banter. “Today, we have a very special guest with us today. He’s fresh off the tour of his first and most recent EP, we have Min Yoongi in the studio! Yay!” He claps. Nayeon follows suit. 

Yoongi stops his clapping sooner to speak into the microphone in front of him. “Thanks for having me back.” 

“Thank you for deciding to hang out with us for the afternoon,” Nayeon says. “Especially since you’re a big hot shot now.” 

Yoongi laughs. “I wouldn’t say that… I just finished my first tour, Nayeon, no big deal.” 

“‘No big deal’,” Nayeon quotes him. “As if your EP didn’t chart into a top 50 list or anything like that.” 

The conversation trails like this for a little bit. Yoongi is scheduled to spend thirty minutes doing a segment, which is meant to be uploaded onto Youtube later, so it gives the three of them a lot of legroom to play around and play off of each other. The purpose of the interview is to discuss the tour, the progress of the album, and (if anyone dared venture there) the status of his relationship—! 

“Well, moving on from the album—which I’m sure is going to be a huge success, by the way,” Nayeon continues on, bringing you back from the daydream that you’ve slipped into. “Seriously, it’s a very highly anticipated release.” 

Yoongi manages a nervous smile. “I’ll make sure not to let anyone down.” 

Nayeon nods. “I think it’s a good time to ask about a recent development that has occurred with you as of late.” 

“And, that is the announcement of your relationship,” Nayeon carries on. She glances at Yoongi from across the table. “We’re allowed to ask you questions about it, right?” 

Yoongi nods, choosing his words very carefully. “I’m all ears for your questions, Nayeon.” 

Nayeon brightens at that. “I just think that a lot of people want to know: how are you guys doing since the announcement?” 

He takes in a breath. To the general public, it’ll probably look as if he’s steeling himself to finally come clean about a relationship he’s been hiding for three years. But to you, you know it’s because he’s just trying to figure out what exactly to say. 

“We’ve been doing well,” He says with a nod of assurance. “It was a little stressful at first, and it still is because of how recent the news is, but I am glad we decided to make this call. Y/N has been with me since the beginning and has supported me and has been the inspiration for a lot of my music—and I’m at a point in my life where I want my fans to know that rather than drag them along and just make them assume these parts of my life.” 

“That’s so sweet,” Nayeon gushes. “So Y/N wasn’t always just your manager, even back in your Youtube days?” 

Yoongi shakes his head. “Actually, she was my girlfriend before I decided to upload song covers.” 

Nayeon swoons a little. “Can you tell us the story of how we met? You can be brief, of course.” 

Yoongi laughs. “We shared a class together in college, and she was probably the funniest person I had ever met—of course, we were friends for about a year before we started dating. But Y/N was always very supportive about me pursuing music, even when it was just a hobby. When I did start my Youtube channel, she stayed up to help with editing and just letting me know how some lyrics I had written would sound. She was a business major in college, so it felt right to let her have the reins on scheduling my appearances—and now she’s my manager. Besides just being my girlfriend, we work together really well.” 

You huff out a breath, something you hadn’t even realized that you were holding. You didn’t think Yoongi lying straight through his teeth could cause you so much anxiety. As if there are people around this radio station to fact check everything leaving Yoongi’s mouth. 

Nayeon hesitates for a moment. “Alright, I want to ask one more question.” 

Yoongi gestures for her to continue. 

“You write a lot about being in love and all these little moments of stability and that feeling of contentment—but what is your experience with love? How did you know that you were in love?” 

Your lips part in shock at the question, having not expected it. After all, Seokjin didn’t quiz Yoongi on this answer. And to talk about love in such a personal manner—would Yoongi even have an answer for everyone? 

Your gaze is trained on Yoongi, watching them through the glass separating you from him. It seems as if the entire room is silenced in anticipation. You can feel Jungkook’s gaze hot on your back, clearly trying to gauge your response—but you try not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. 

“It’s actually funny,” Yoongi speaks up after a moment. Your heart lurches, thinking that he’s going to divert from the question. But you should know him better. “I always thought love, when it came to romance, was supposed to be this big explosion of fireworks and what not—like in the movies. You see someone and there’s this feeling in your gut right away, you know, this whole concept of love at first sight. I used to think that was how I was going to fall in love. It was going to be dramatic, but everything I wanted right away, and I was going to be whisked off and everything would be sunshine and rainbows. I thought that I’d meet someone, and they’d be everything I wanted them to be right off the bat, and that I’d know right away they’d be the one. 

But the truth is, through my relationship, I realized that it’s not like that. I didn’t know Y/N would be the one right away. It took a long time—because we liked each other, but that’s not the big explosion of fireworks I was promised. We liked each other, but it was never love at first sight. And truthfully, she wasn’t even everything I wanted right off the bat. I’ve realized that love is more about these adjustments you as people have to make to fit, and it happened so subtly with me that then I didn’t realize it was happening until I just woke up one day and knew. 

I knew because one morning, I woke up in a fit—I had fallen asleep at my desk again trying to get through some of the music arrangement of this one video I was working on, or something like that. I was always working on music and editing—so I actually don’t remember. Anyways, I woke up and my head was resting on a pillow, and there was a blanket over my shoulder, which I didn’t remember fixing up the night before. I got out of the little makeshift studio I had in my apartment, and there was breakfast food from this cafe I really like around the corner at my table. It was a little cold, but Y/N had taped a little note on the bag with heating instructions and what not, just telling me to do my best—really nice and supportive things. I had assumed that she had gone back home, because she knew I was pulling another all-nighter for work. That’s what I thought, until I look into the living room and find her sleeping on my couch. More than that, her hands were still on her laptop, where she had been in the process of still editing one of my videos. She still had her headphones on and everything. We had been dating for a little less than a year at that point, so it wasn’t like this was a rare thing. It was a pretty normal thing for her to do—wrap me up in blankets and buy me breakfast food the following morning, even falling asleep on the couch was a weekly occurrence. But I just saw her sleeping on my couch and I felt this wave of warmth and contentment. Like I always knew that she’d be on my team. I think that was the moment I really knew what love was.” 

It’s a long story, one that ends with a stunned silence—like no one had expected him to give out such a detailed answer and make it sound poetic at the same time. That’s the songwriter Min Yoongi for you, you supposed. 

Quickly, both the studio and the booth give out a chorus of aw’s and ooh’s, gushing amongst one another over the charming nature of Yoongi’s story. But you are still trapped into submission, staring straight through the glass with millions of questions still going through your mind. The spike in your heart rate also points to the rush of adrenaline flowing through you. Because you know this story that he is telling. He’s not lying through his teeth. You remember this night. Or, one of the nights, at least. Like Yoongi had said, you giving out blankets and food like air was second nature in your friendship. So was you falling asleep on the couch. 

Did those situations hold as much weight for him as they did for you? Or, was he just making up his feelings? After all, the key to lying was skirting as close to the truth as possible. That kind of situation may work for Yoongi, as the liar, but it wasn’t as comforting for you. 

You watch the way Yoongi laughs at the gushing Nayeon does, the way he smiles brightly and continues to reinforce how important you are—and you recognize his facade better than anyone else. Of course he’s lying, and you reach their realization with a bit of downfall in your stomach. There’s no way he would be telling the truth, especially considering the situation the pair of you are now in where Yoongi’s career is dependent on his ability to tell a proper lie. 

You allow yourself to sink a little deeper into the studio, near the back where the producers of the radio station can discuss amongst each other. This puts you with Jungkook, who has been watching the situation closely the entire time. 

“Yoongi can be quite the actor,” Jungkook mumbles. He has this unreadable expression in his eyes, but you know that Jungkook knows that situation Yoongi is describing. It had been Jungkook’s apartment as well. He glances at you, but says nothing. 

You continue to stare ahead. That pensive silence continues as Yoongi is released from the radio interview, and thanks Nayeon and Hoseok eagerly for their time and energy. Nayeon returns the gesture, waving to you through the glass when Yoongi points you out. You weakly return the action. 

It isn’t until you get into the car, where the pair of you are safe from the wandering eyes and careful ears of the entire world, that one of you elects to speak up. “So, what did you think?” Yoongi asks. 

By this point, you’ve recovered swiftly from your disappointment. You smile like it’s your only shield. “As your manager, I’m glad that you were able to make love so poetic—just on brand for you. As your fake girlfriend, I also really have to congratulate you for your storytelling. I even remember those nights too, so it was definitely a good memory to lie about.” 

Yoongi flushes a little at your comment, looking pleased with himself for a moment. You smile at his expression, before turning to train your gaze out of the window. The gesture makes you miss the way the smile slips off his face, the way he glances over at you. A good memory to lie about—right. 

.

Yoongi’s radio interview goes viral, and so does any hope you have in trying to forget the tale he had spun during it. Granted, you are happy that people bought his story. You just wish that it wouldn’t have muddled up all your thoughts and feelings along the way. 

Naturally, Seokjin is excited about the good press and the fact that the pair of you completed your first assignment well enough. At least, that’s the display he’s presenting when you walk into his office two days after the radio interview. Yesterday was spent looking over social media to see the public’s reaction to Yoongi’s speech about love, and if you as his manager would need to do any damage control. Luckily, you do not. As his manager, it leaves you in good spirits. 

But as someone who actually has a crush on Yoongi, it’s less so. 

That dejection only furthers itself when you see how excited Seokjin looks, like he’s already plotting the next steps to his little project. 

“Ah, Y/N!” Seokjin greets carefully. “Hi, hi, congratulations on your first successful outing with Yoongi! Per the reports I’ve been seeing over social media, you guys did a very good job.” 

You sigh, placing four coffee orders onto the table and sliding into the seat in front of Seokjin’s desk. “I didn’t really do that much,” You admit with a half-hearted shrug. “Yoongi did all the talking. I just waved at Nayeon through the glass window.” 

“Aaahh,” Seokjin hums, opening up his laptop and turning it around in order for you to see what is on his screen. “Seems like you did a little more than that.” 

Your gaze flints down to the big, bold words across the screen: THE INSIDER REPORT ON MIN YOONGI’S RADIO INTERVIEW: Employees at the K-IM Radio Station detail their experience meeting Yoongi and his girlfriend following the announcement of their relationship. 

That piques your interest, and you scoot forward in your chair slightly in order to reach out and see what Seokjin is talking about. It’s not a very lengthy article—there is a summary detailing Yoongi’s interview, of course referencing his grand speech about love—but that’s not what takes up the most space. 

Your eyes continue to skim over, almost not even believing what you were reading. The intern that first greeted you and Yoongi is in here, talking about how the pair of you were holding hands “in such a loving way, and the way they looked at each other before I led him to the radio booth was so romantic!” (The intern’s words, not yours). There’s even some excerpts from the employees and producers inside the radio booth, the same room you had spent the interview in. Surprisingly, a lot of the accounts are not talking about what Yoongi said. It’s all about how you looked when Yoongi was telling his story. 

“It was such a powerful speech, I couldn’t help but look over to Y/N to see her reaction, and she was staring back at Yoongi in such a way that I knew immediately that the genuine nature of their love was a two-way street.” 

“... a definite softness in her gaze, like she was reliving that memory with him.” 

And so on, and so on. 

Your face feels a little warmer when your eyes as you push the laptop away, glancing up to see Seokjin’s staring at you. “See? You did good. The small gestures you do can go a long way—especially when you don’t notice you’re doing them.” 

You close the laptop, as if that can physically distance yourself from the assurances of those who had been around you. “Right…” You manage weakly. 

“Well,” Seokjin hums, already moving onto the next point of the conversation. If he senses something fishy in your response, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anyways, Yoongi is in the studio right now with Namjoon, so I just want a little update report on your relationship with Yoongi. As in, how is it going between the two of you?” 

You ponder this for a moment, thinking about how he took your hand in the car, how he recounted such a personal story to explain the details of his love, the look he gave you when you congratulated his storytelling abilities—like he knew something that you did not. 

At the same time, it was such a minor appearance that you didn’t get much of a feel about the romantic aspect of this fake relationship. This is why you sigh. “I’m not too sure. We had such a minor acting role together that it’s hard to say. I will say that right now it feels pretty much the same.” 

“Alright, fair enough,” Seokjin approves with a nod. “So you don’t have a problem if I want to plan some informal hang-outs for you and Yoongi? Just as a way to keep your guys in the public eye enough times that fans don’t start doubting your relationship.” 

You smile weakly. “Of course. That’s what I signed the NDA for.” 

Seokjin laughs, finally waving you off. “Okay, sure. I’ll look into where I think your relationship will make the biggest impact and will update you and Yoongi when I’ve made my decisions.” Finally, he looks over the multiple cups of coffee you had brought over on your cardboard tray, and fishes out the one with his name on it. “This one for me?” 

You lean over, flickering your gaze from the cup to his face. “Well, at the very least, I know you can read now.” 

His relaxed expression morphs into a playful scowl. “Get out of here brat.” 

Your laughter echoes through his office as you take your cardboard tray of three coffee cups and reemerge back into the hallway of the record studio. You walk the familiar path until you reach the door to the recording room—pulling open the door and letting yourself in. Inside the booth, Yoongi is rapping away into his microphone, as his low voice fills the tiny space of this studio. You place the tray down onto one of the tables, picking up your own before sliding over to take a seat on the couch. 

As you continue listening to Yoongi wistfully hum about a desire to cross an emotional distance, about how he tells the truth because “it’s you, it’s always been you”—you cannot help your mind wandering into what Seokjin has in store for you over the course of the next few months. 

.

. 

CHAPTER 4: TURNING POINT 

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Yoongi’s first full length album is set to release in two months. 

At least, that’s what KSJ records claims after uploading a quarterly report of Yoongi’s schedule. At first, you don’t think it’s a big deal for Yoongi’s label to post a tentative update about his music progress, but his fans are extremely observant and catch on immediately. It’s good to draw up the hype, you suppose. 

Anyways, at the rate that Yoongi is working on the songs for the album, you won’t be surprised if he manages to follow the schedule down to a T. The boy lives and breathes music, and last time you checked the album would consist partly of songs from his EP and new songs—meaning that it cuts down Yoongi’s usual workload into half. Not that he minds, at any rate. 

“Okay, Min Yoongi,” Seokjin starts up, standing at the head of the meeting room which only consists of three people. Normally, with meetings with the head of KSJ records himself, there’s a lot more people around to discuss schedule, promotions, and the likes. The fact that it’s just you and Yoongi tells you exactly what you’re doing here. “It’s been a few weeks since your radio interview, and I know that you’re doing well in your progress of the album—but I think it’ll do you well to take a break.” 

Yoongi huffs. “It’s nice that you’re reminding me about this, but I’ll rest when the album is released.” 

Seokjin snorts. “When did I say rest? I just meant take a break from your album work. Plus you need to get some vitamin C, or whatever shit you get from the sun.”  

“It’s vitamin D,” You interject gently. 

“Pish posh,” Seokjin waves away your interruption. “Anyways, like I was saying, there is a way for us to kill two birds with one stone. So that you.” He points to Yoongi. “Can get out of the studio for a few hours and you.” He points to you. “Can play into a relationship that’ll help us kill two birds with one stone.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “What exactly are you proposing?” 

“Well,” Seokjin continues, leaning over his side of the table to get a few good at his laptop, where it appears that he has a few notes written down regarding the direction of this meeting. “In order to continue generating curiosity about Yoongi’s upcoming album and maintain the public’s constant queries about your relationship, I want you two to go on public outings. I have a few specific places I think would be good cornerstones to touch on, but I’m also willing to let the two of you figure out where you want to spend your time.” He glances up at the two of you. “That should be okay, right?” 

You and Yoongi glance at each other. Come to think of it, the pair of you haven’t talked about nor reviewed the events at the radio station since it happened and the underlying questions you still have about his side of the story feels vaguely like a weight hanging over you both. But Yoongi smiles at you, and you think that you can continue to do what you’ve done for years: hide away your feelings. 

“Yeah, that should be fine,” You speak up first, smiling back at Yoongi. You turn to Seokjin. “What did you have in mind?” 

The question is how you find yourself in a car with Yoongi a few days later, your hands in your lap and your mind spinning with nerves. The radio interview had been one case, but a limited one at that—your role had been very minor and your interaction with Yoongi had only been seconds long. They had definitely been a lot smaller than this new role that Seokjin has assigned to you. 

For today, Seokjin has directed the pair of you to the streets of Yoongi’s old stomping ground—the same shopping district with the same corner Yoongi spent all his nights performing in from a time period that seems so long enough. Not long enough, apparently, as Seokjin thinks it would be a nice nod to be ‘accidentally’ discovered walking along a place that holds so much memory. 

“I just want you guys to walk around—be happy, but be close,” Seokjin had noted just a few hours prior to you and Yoongi’s departure. “Just look like the pair of you are on a date. Hold hands, smile at each other, all that jazz. Nothing too serious.” 

Too bad it actually was kind of serious for you. 

You and Yoongi make minor conversation, making some jokes here and there that do well in helping to ease your nerves. You don’t think Yoongi would take notice, but he can be strangely observant. Perhaps the way you keep bouncing one of your legs helps let him know that something is up. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. 

You stop bouncing your leg. “It kind of feels like I’m about to perform, or something—it’s that same kind of rush.” 

Yoongi stares at you for a moment, before he looks out his side of the window. “Well, technically speaking, you are about to perform. You know, with this whole relationship being an act and all.” 

“Very true,” You say, nodding your head. “Do we need a game plan?” 

Yoongi shrugs. “I thought that we’d just wing it. We held hands back at the radio station so, uh, I’m assuming that you’re still comfortable with doing that?” 

“O-Oh yeah, of course!” 

“Then, we can do that. And walk around. Improvise while we do so—just see how the day goes.” 

You nod. “Okay, true, true. That sounds good.” You can’t help but give him a sneaky smile. “Look at you, Min Yoongi, you’ve become quite the performer. Improvisation used to be something you were never too good at.” 

Yoongi flushes a little, smiling back at you. “Give me a little credit. You gotta have backups for your backups, especially in situations when your sound gives up on you in the middle of one of your sets.” 

You laugh, because this reminds you about one of Yoongi’s first live sets along the very street the pair of you will be approaching shortly. His speakers had just given up, forcing Yoongi to go entirely acapella. In a way, that mistake ended up garnering him more fans who grew to respect his craft and talent for music and singing. But as they say, hindsight is 20 20. 

You and Yoongi continue to laugh about that memory for a few minutes before Taehyung arrives along the outskirts of the shopping district, pulling up along the curb. The car is on the other side of this bustling area, just a few feet away from the pedestrian walkway that is littering with people going to and fro. 

Taehyung turns around in his seat to give the pair of you a look. “Now kids, I want you to call me whenever you’re ready to get picked up.” He’s grinning around the words though 

You glare at him. “Sure thing dad,” You bite back, already opening the car door to take your leave. Your feet land onto the concrete of the sidewalk as you pull yourself into a standing position. Yoongi joins you shortly after, standing close to you. “Bye,” You say, slamming the door into Taehyung’s face before he can get in one last snarky reply. 

Yoongi looks like he’s trying hard not to laugh for Taehyung’s benefit. But it’s an act he can only hold together for so long, because he does start to laugh as soon as Taehyung and the company car turn the corner and disappear out of sight.

After a second, Yoongi turns to you and gestures towards the pedestrian walkway just a few feet ahead. “Shall we?” 

You nod, taking the hand that he extends out to you. Just an act, you tell yourself, you allow him to lace your fingers together. Nevermind the fact that the weight on your hand feels entirely too reassuring and comforting for the current context. 

Ignoring that feeling, you squeeze his hand and let him lead you towards the walkway, where you cross the street with no problem. Since Yoongi nor Seokjin had announced Yoongi’s presence at this plaza for the day, you can only hope that too much attention won’t be drawn to you. 

It’s a thought that you are able to entertain for a few minutes. Yoongi may not have the star quality status of mainstream celebrities (yet), but he’s still someone who has been on the radio, has done a country-wide tour, and has a youtube following of a couple million people (four now, the last time you checked—subscriber counts tend to zip by after a person hits a million). That small list of accomplishments is more than enough to drag in a few wandering eyes. Okay, maybe a little more than a few. 

You think that you’ve kind of developed a seventh sense to knowing when Yoongi was being recognized. It’s shown in the double-glances some people start shooting at him, at quick whispers behind closed hands, and craning necks over shoulders. 

You’re okay with people knowing about Yoongi’s current location, but the memory of his tours and even the crowd problem that came up during his street performances flashback in your mind. You don’t think you want to deal with that situation right now—secretly preferring if people just observed from a distance. 

Without thinking twice, you tighten your hold on Yoongi’s hand long enough to lead him into one of the stores along the sidewalk—an accessories booth with fake glasses, rings, earrings, the likes. 

Yoongi watches you, a touch of amusement in his eyes like he knows what you’re thinking. Still, he asks. “What are you doing?” 

You rummage through the wide selection of glasses, fully aware that one or two people have spotted the pair of you and are lingering near the entrance to catch a glance at what you two are doing. From the looks of it, no one is going to stir up a commotion. You still want to make sure. 

“You stand out,” You explain vaguely, finding a pair of circle glasses in black-rims from the pile before turning around and more or less smashing the glasses against his face. It’s difficult to try and put glasses on another person, you miss his ears a few times and almost get him in the eye, but Yoongi strangely enough lets you manhandle him. 

In the midst of your last few attempts you step forward and scoot even closer to him to try and get the glasses more properly situated on his face. Due to the proximity, Yoongi’s hands fly up from his side to avoid being pressed uncomfortably against his chest, choosing to rest at your waist. At first, you don’t feel the weight of his hands, you’re too focused on making sure the fake glasses you’ve selected can fit in place. 

As soon as you’ve properly aligned the glasses to his face, you lower your hands from his face. The action makes you suddenly hyper aware of the current position you’ve put yourself in. It’s not very often that you get handsy with Yoongi, it’s a side of you that comes out when the pair of you are in a hurry, but hardly during candid moments like this. 

Immediately, Yoongi’s hands feel like warm flames tickling your skin, and you suddenly feel hyper aware of his position, of his closeness. Your eyes flicker up, seeing his face with those glasses you’ve just shoved onto him sitting nicely at the bridge of his nose, highlighting the intensity of his gaze. The stare he’s giving you only heightens the gravitational pull you feel towards him. 

You don’t know how long the pair of you are just standing in the middle of the store, staring at each other, until you feel the weight of a third party approaching the pair of you. 

You practically shove yourself away from Yoongi, trying to make it seem as if you’re just stepping back to get an overall look at his face (Yoongi featuring glasses). Yoongi lets you go. 

The third party is an employee of the accessories booth, smiling widely. “Sorry to interrupt,” She says, looking over at Yoongi. “Sir, I just want to say that those glasses look great on you. And just to let you know we’re having a sale on that collection so it’s a buy one get the other one half off so maybe you two can match if you’re up to it…” 

You tune her out after a second, realizing that you can’t really keep up with what she’s saying considering the current firestorm that’s going on inside your head. Why couldn’t you have just asked Yoongi to put the glasses on himself? You curse yourself for letting your guard down—sometimes you try to do things of your own accord, and today you were paying the price.

When you don’t speak after a few seconds, Yoongi smiles at the employee. “Got it, thanks a lot.” He waits until the employee returns back to rearranging some earrings on a nearby shelf before turning back to you. “How does it look?” 

He does look good, but you play it down by tilting your head and settling with a shrug. “Well, you’ve looked better—but this’ll have to do.” 

Yoongi laughs, before he does something that catches you off guard. He steps closer to you. “So you think there are times when I do look good?” 

You try not to look too bewildered at his gesture. You can tell that he does feel a little nervous about the fact he’s testing the waters so boldly without any practice, but it’s all part of the act. Just as Seokjin said: be happy, be close. 

So you place a hand on his chest, pushing him slightly with your own little teasing smile. “I said better—that doesn’t always mean you were ever good to begin with.” 

Yoongi makes a noise of protest, and without warning just swings his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close to his side. “You’re breaking my heart everyday!” 

“You must like the abuse, you’re still with me,” You bite back playfully without thought. For a split second, it doesn’t feel like you’re in a store with people who vaguely recognize Yoongi’s appearance—for a split second, it feels like just you and him, and everything you’ve ever wanted. 

Upon Yoongi’s lips hover over the shell of your ear. “Good job, I think the group of girls outside caught our picture.” 

That dreamy fantasy where it was just you and Yoongi and nothing else mattered came crashing down, squaring you right back into reality. It’s not a disappointing feeling per say—just a vague extra hammering of your heartbeat, a vague guilt that you let your mind let its guard down like that. “Right,” You say. “Uh…” You try to think, which proves to be a difficult thing to do with Yoongi’s weight pressed up against you and everything. You clap your hands together. “Okay, let’s grab a hat and then we’ll be on our way.” 

You make sure to be a little less handsy when it comes to hat selections, but you knew there was only so far you could escape given the current context of the situation. Yoongi seems to know that, because he stays close to you as you’re both shifting through hats, and even when he pays for his hat and glasses combination before exiting the booth. The pair of you pass through the two girls that were lingering outside of the booth, where Yoongi gives them the smallest wave and hello before carrying on with the rest of the trip. 

With the hat and glasses combination, it definitely draws less attention to Yoongi’s classic fluffy black hair and gummy smile—especially if you’re using what was going on in the beginning of your trip as a baseline. This means that you and Yoongi can carry on with the rest of your outing with feeling the obvious heavy weight of gazes on your shoulder. 

With intertwined hands the pair of you first stop by one of the local cafes and sit right alongside the window to enjoy some pasta and soda combinations. You roll up the noodles onto your fork and clink utensils with Yoongi before slipping the noodles in your mouth—tomato sauce with flavor slipped into every side piece of noodle. It’s amazing, and you cannot help but gush so as you smile brightly around your fork. 

You’re too busy stirring your fork around yet another string of pasta that you fail to see the softening look of the boy across the table from you. It’s a look that disappears by the time your gaze glints back up to resume the conversation. The pasta is considered a snack above all else, so it doesn’t take long for the pair of you to finish up your meal. Leaving a tip behind on the table, Yoongi walks over to you just as you’re straightening up from your chair. Silently, he offers his hand to you. 

Knowing the routine by now, you take his hand, silently lacing your fingers together and letting him lead the way out of the cafe and back onto the sidewalk. The later afternoon shows itself in the steady increase of people, which is good because it makes you feel as if you can blend into the crowd either. There are still the occasional phones out, trailing after you and Yoongi as you walk along the sidewalk, but nothing that ever makes you feel as if you need to call Taehyung. 

“Actually, this isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be,” You grumble to Yoongi quietly, a comment that he laughs at. 

“I’m not that famous,” Yoongi jokingly teases you. “And my fans are just being respectful—give them a little credit.” His voice dies down shortly after, however, but it only takes you a few seconds to realize why. 

The pair of you, in the midst of your simple ‘walk along the sidewalk’ plan, have arrived at a very familiar street corner. The sunset means that arriving performers who work best once the sun leaves are just beginning to set up their stage—laying out equipment, testing out sound systems, saying hello to some passersby who recognize the artists getting ready. You can read the signs of these interactions very easily. After all, it’s what Yoongi used to do a year ago, at this very spot too. 

In front of you, a new performer, a singer, is setting up her own equipment—guitar in hand as she practices her strumming. You inch closer to Yoongi, your arms molded against each other. “Hey, hey,” You whisper at Yoongi. The boy leans over to better hear you. “She reminds me of you.” 

Yoongi laughs. “What do you mean? How?” 

You glance over at the girl again, not noticing the way Yoongi is still staring at you, quietly awaiting your answer. “You guys have the same drive,” You eventually note. “And the same determination. It’s easy to see in her, just as it’s always been like that for you…” You trail off, looking over to realize that he’s still looking at you. 

“You noticed those things, huh?” Yoongi asks quietly. 

His gaze is too enticing to look away from, pulling you in through a situation not unlike what had happened at the accessories shop earlier that afternoon. “I-I mean, of course I do…” Yoongi’s gaze feels like hot magnets that are just pulling the next words out of you. “I always notice with you.” 

The world seems to quiet down at that, everything slowing down as you feel yourself mentally curse yourself out for those words. Why would you say it like that? 

A million thoughts go through your head at once. You weren’t really lying or trying to play a part. You were being honest. You do always notice with Yoongi. And since he clearly only sees you as a friend that could participate in whatever scheme he can get himself into, then he would obviously hear your statement and think of it as nothing more than a friendly complement. Right? RIGHT? 

Except, Yoongi is still just standing next to you, staring at you, not making any sort of comment whatsoever. He has that unreadable expression in his gaze, a look he always gives you when you let the cracks slip in your facade, but it’s something he never talks about, never explains to you—just like right now. 

The silence grows tense, so tense that it begins to feel like weights on your shoulders, like a coil wrapping itself around your heart, because why isn’t he saying anything? 

Yoongi hums, low and throaty and that coil around your heart drops into your stomach. “Is that so?” He inquires softly, continuing to gaze at you. 

His gaze drops down to your lips, and that coil is replaced with butterflies all around you. It starts are a flutter in your stomach, in your heart, and your mind starts to race because what the fuck is happening?

Around you, the growing number of people means that someone accidentally bumps into you, driving you forward right into Yoongi’s chest. The pair of you stumble, effectively dissipating that cloud of tension that had threatened to curl through you. You cough, taking a small step away from Yoongi so that while the pair of you were still holding hands, that was the only thing connecting the pair of you. 

You and Yoongi don’t have another run in like that for the remainder of the date, as that late afternoon sunset fades away into nighttime and you and Yoongi spend that time trying to enjoy each other’s presence whilst also not engaging in too much physical contact. Your fingers remain loosely intertwined but it never tightens as if the small air of space between your hands can hide away the nerves and tension you feel yourself trying to contain. 

Even when Taehyung comes to pick the two of you up, and you no longer are under the obligation to hold hands, that air of space still feels heavy between the two of you. 

.

The overwhelming positive response of your first official public date sends Seokjin through the moon, as well as provides him with a drive to arrange and send you and Yoongi out on more dates. All of which, fortunately for you, don’t come nearly as close to the level of tension experienced from the first date. Partly because you know your limits, and go into each planned date with a level of expectation for yourself as well as rules that you’ve internally programmed yourself to follow every time you and Yoongi step out of the car. 

At the museum date, you make sure to keep your distance, using your intertwined hands with Yoongi as the only signal of your relationship. The pair of you joke around about the art pieces, whispering between each other about how many fans have taken pictures of the pair of you lingering about the museum, as well as relay information to each other about various rooms that you are interested in. But in a way, it definitely feels more like a typical friendly hang-out rather than a date. 

The same idea can be applied to the next date Seokjin sends you on—a casual date at one of the local botanical gardens, each garden filled with a different culture to serve as the theme for its layout and plant growth. Some gardens have little cafe booths and grassy fields to buy some snacks before sitting down to enjoy the sunlight, which is an idea that Yoongi suggests that the two of you do. He points to one of the ice cream shops along the outskirts of a garden, and claims a seat on one of the benches so the two of you can enjoy your treat. The current summertime weather emits a warmer heat and breeze that curls lightly through the air throughout the day, making for a perfectly comfortable season to wear a sundress. It’s also the kind of undetectable weather for ice cream to melt down the cone, onto unsuspecting fingers curled into the dry waffle texture. Yoongi makes that well aware by poking your cheek with his sticky finger, garnering several pictures of the encounter. 

Seokjin has even tried to implement studio life into his constant narrative to keep up the facade of your relationship with Yoongi. While the pair of you go on these occasional dates, Yoongi also has a deadline to fulfill with his album release. On the days where dates are not planned out, he’ll be in the studio—rearranging songs to fit in with the music beats that have more or less been tapered down to perfection. As his manager, sometimes you find yourself staying past your allotted time slot of being at the studio, before sneaking into the recording booth way past midnight to see what Yoongi and Namjoon are up to. 

Just as it follows: you straighten up, craning your neck backwards a little to allow for slight muscle extensions after sitting at a desk for an extra hour too long. With Yoongi’s album steadily approaching, there are interviews that need to be arranged, magazines and newspapers and radio shows alike all reaching out to you for the opportunity to cover Yoongi’s growth as an artist. Albums also equate to tours to help promote the album, and with the close call from Yoongi’s last experience with such, it means that you need to book more locations—or the same location across multiple dates. 

Overall, the growing pile of work means that you and everyone else at KSJ Studios are just as anticipated for Yoongi’s album release as the general public. It seems as if his collective fanbase are hoping and waiting under the same parameters: was the album going to be as good as they were expecting? 

You shoulder your purse, stepping out of your office and shutting it behind you. You navigate through the hallways, glancing sideways to peek out the long glassway of windows, all overlooking the city skyline, the multicolor lights flickering ahead in the distance. You quirk a lip. 

Your usual brisk pace dies down when you pass the studio you know Yoongi and Namjoon are recording in. The soundproof walls inside mean that hardly any music ever seeps out from between the cracks, only heightening your curiosity. Your busy schedule recently has made it so you have hardly been able to hear what Yoongi and Namjoon have come up with. 

You glance down at your watch. It was nearing midnight. Well, you think to yourself, a little peek wouldn’t hurt. You reach over to grip the door handle, pushing it down and pushing it open. Inside is the usual scene: Yoongi behind the glass, his fingers curled around the headphones as he speaks into the microphone. His voice filters through the main studio area, where Namjoon sits behind computers and music panels, capturing every single second of what is going on. 

Further driven by curiosity, you find yourself pulling harder at the door to let yourself in. Namjoon turns at the sound, but softens a little when he sees that it’s you. 

“Burning the midnight oil?” You tease, standing next to Namjoon at the table, watching Yoongi’s closed eyes as he loses himself in the song. 

Namjoon grins back. “You’re not gonna tell us to stop, are you?” 

“Hey.” You bring both arms up in a sign of surrender. “I’m off the clock on this one. Just wanted to see what you two were up to.” 

Suddenly, Yoongi calls your name from behind the glass, as the noise is amplified through the studio. You jump slightly, having not expected to be noticed so soon. Yoongi waves. “It’s late!” He calls. “What are you still doing here?” 

You lean forward to press the button that opens the two-way communication. “I’m not sure you heard, but there’s an artist in this studio that’s working on an upcoming album—it’s causing a lot of pain for the rest of us.” 

Yoongi laughs at that. “Touche, touche.” He brightens up slightly. “Hey, we’re wrapping up on this song, so if you stick around I’ll drive you home.” 

This is a natural offer for Yoongi to make, considering the extent to which you’ve spent long nights here. Brushing it off as nothing more than Yoongi just being a good pal, you nod and flash him a thumbs up. “Sounds good, sounds good. But take your time. Don’t let me get in the way.” 

You turn around, allowing the music of Yoongi’s song to refilter back through the studio. You park yourself atop the couch at the back, settling into the soft cushions. Come to think of it, falling asleep definitely isn’t the worst thing in the world to do—especially on this couch. And you’re exhausted, what with scheduling events all day and having to burn through your social battery by making one too many phone calls with various people within the industry. 

The last thing you remember is Yoongi’s soft humming that fades away into a quiet static. 

You jerk awake after what feels like a few minutes—but judging from your new position on the couch (horizontal this time, instead of vertical) and the blanket that has been tucked under your chin, you realize quickly that this few minutes has actually been a few hours. It might be hard to believe that, because the world around you still seems very similar to what it had been when you fell asleep. The lack of windows in the studio make it very difficult to distinguish time—although Yoongi’s voice sounds much closer than it had when you first fell asleep. 

You sit up. 

Namjoon and Yoongi jolt at your sudden movement. “Woah! She’s awake now,” Yoongi teases. 

Blinking for a few seconds, you turn your head to find Yoongi out of the recording booth and instead sitting at one of the tables in the actual studio setting. Surrounding Namjoon and Yoongi looks like an entire McDonalds family meal: chicken nuggets, $1 menu burgers, lots of french fries… 

You let out a breath to help further situate you to your new surroundings. “Min Yoongi…” You start, voice hoarse. “You said you were just finishing up.” 

“I was,” Yoongi explains, looking vaguely guilty. Only vaguely though. “But I had this sudden epiphany, like holy shit you really had to be here—it was crazy.” 

“I was here,” You choke out. 

Yoongi waves you off. “You know what I mean—here here. Anyways, yeah, we realized that we couldn’t leave, especially when I got Namjoon on the same page. He was just as excited as I was!” 

Namjoon slaps his hand. “Don’t drag me into this!” 

Yoongi ignores him. “Anyways, it’s like two in the morning and we got hungry. McDonalds is the food of champions, after all. You hungry? Here, have some water first.” He grabs a bottle of water from the table and unscrews the cap. Suddenly, he’s standing up and making his way towards the couch. He sits down next to you, offering the water to you. “Here. You must be thirsty.” 

You are. Still heavy-lidded too, but you try your best to blink away the exhaustion as you blindly reach for the water and manage to grab it after Yoongi adjusts his own angled arm. He watches you as you tilt your head back to down some of the water, accidentally drinking a little more than your mouth can handle. Some of it slides down the corner of your lip, making you angle your head back properly and remove your lips from the bottle head. 

Yoongi softens a little at your clumsy nature, tugging the sleeve of his long-sleeved forward in order to pat the corner of your mouth. “Aw, look at my tiny little baby, can’t even drink water properly,” He coos. 

You flinch slightly away from him, trying for a glare that comes out more like a pout. Yoongi laughs softly at the sight. “There are no cameras around us, Min Yoongi,” You grumble out. “You don’t need to be so attentive.” 

“Nevermind that, I’m just trying to be a friend. You want a french fry?” He reaches across the space separating the couch from the table, and grabs the box of salty french fries. His voice carries that usual positive disposition from previously, but the light in his eyes has died down a little. You don’t notice it, too busy looking at the french fries and realizing that you are actually a little hungry. 

The remainder of Yoongi and Namjoon’s break is dedicated to finishing up the family meal, before Yoongi looks at the clock and claps his hands together. “Hey Namjoon, I think I should take my girl home before we get back to working. Is that okay?” 

Namjoon’s eyes flicker between the two of you, but he relents. “Of course.” He utters your name. “Have a good night.” 

“I should be saying that to you,” You return teasingly, more of your senses have returned since putting food into your stomach. “See you tomorrow, Namjoon.” 

So Yoongi takes you home, driving through the darkened streets, making light conversation with you, completely ignoring the fact that he has just addressed you as his girl, before your phone starts to buzz in your lap. It’s a notification from Instagram, saying that Namjoon has tagged you in a picture. Raising an eyebrow, you tap the alert, which takes you to a picture from just a few minutes ago—you and Yoongi at the studio, Yoongi tapping gently at your face with his sweater paw. The caption burns into your mind: three am company, ft my favorite artist and his favorite girl. 

His favorite girl. 

His girl. 

.

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CHAPTER 5: HIS GIRL 

. 

Yoongi’s album is entitled Y2, and it releases in the autumn, when the leaves are colored orange and the breeze has called for cozy jackets and big sweaters. It’s the perfect attire to wear as the earphones get plugged in and slipped into ears—curled up by soft cashmere and Yoongi’s luring voice. He’s got about sixteen songs on the album, a sweet mixture of loose beats and soft vocal voices that seem to simultaneously battle the drawn out harsh tone of stories extended across various three minute arrangements. The stories cover the low point—passive aggressive fights, of late nights, of “holding your hand, being so close, yet feeling so lonely”. But the songs also touch on the high points—coming back together, of soft morning light, of “being with you, wiping the traces of exhaustion from the corner of your lips, so close yet so far away, and still knowing you’re all I [he] could ever want”. 

At least, it is what one article touches upon in a Y2 review, where the journalist gives high remarks to Yoongi’s album. She calls it a refreshing interpretation of music, continuing in the era of singers actually singing about their feelings. More than that, an era of storytelling in music. Of anything, of life, of the highs and the lows—the sadness, the happiness, the softness. 

Safe to say that Yoongi is very excited to read this review on his phone, along with the surplus of positive things people have to say—from highly regarded journalists who belong to highly regarded newspaper companies, from social media, from his friends and family. Most especially, from you. You: whose hand he holds underneath the table as the numbers of listens start pouring in from various streaming websites. 

He’s been nervous about this. He’s put his blood, sweat, and tears into the creation of this album, every song has been nailed down to perfection. His name, and his heart, is back out into the world. 

The night of the album release is the launch party. 

“Dude, it’s supposed to be a chill night,” Jungkook calls from the hallway, and you can’t help but laugh at how exasperated the boy sounds. “Would you just calm down?” Jungkook emerges from the aforementioned hallway. Despite his mention of this ‘chill night’, he’s still wearing something vaguely casual chic. “You’re his manager. Manage his overthinking tendencies.” 

You laugh, watching as Jungkook plops down into the empty spot next to you on the couch, immediately leaning back into the cushion. “You know as well as I do that I don’t have that much control over him.” 

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “You probably have more control than you think.” 

Before you can ask more questions, think more deeply into what the fuck Jungkook means by that, his eyes land on the hallway entrance before straightening up in the cusion. Your eyes follow Jungkook’s movement, where Yoongi is now standing in the once vacant space of his apartment. But his stance isn’t what gets you to stare, what makes your breath feel like it has just caught in your chest. Although he’s following the ‘casual chic’ dress code that Seokjin has ordered, there’s something about a white t-shirt that hits differently when it’s paired with a coat and dark jeans that highlight his long legs. 

Yoongi gestures down at what he’s wearing meekly. “What do you think?” Although it appears that he’s addressing both you and Jungkook, his gaze is almost entirely fixed on you. 

Trying hard to ignore the racing of your heart, you straighten up and somehow manage to make your way over to him without snapping your ankle on your chunky platform boots. Doing your best to pay attention to his outfit over his face, you reach over to straighten out the silver necklace he’s got dangling at his chest. “You look good,” You settle calmly. “And Jungkook is right—it’s supposed to be a chill night. Seokjin just invited people from the label. And some of your friends as well. Relax a bit, will you?” 

Finally, you force yourself to level your gaze with Yoongi’s, fully confident that he’s just staring at you and probably wondering why you aren’t making eye contact with him. But when you do manage to glance at Yoongi’s face, you realize quickly that he’s not even staring at you. Instead, he’s staring down, at the curve of your throat. 

Without warning, your cardiac system seems to pump itself too hard, because your breath of surprise comes out through your nose, effectively bringing up and lowering your lungs so fast that anyone would be able to read your vital sounds now. This proves to be true, because Yoongi’s gaze darts up from your neck to your eyes so quickly, that you probably wouldn’t have noticed had you stuck around without looking at his eyes. Doing that, however, might have saved you from this now tricky situation. “Sorry,” Yoongi manages, eyes flickering between yours. “I, uh, didn’t hear what you said.” 

You realize the gravity of your position—your fingers now curled around the lapels of Yoongi’s jacket and one of his hands curled around your waist. That gravitational pull from every single one of your dates with Yoongi comes back again, curling around your neck and seeming to push you closer, closer—! 

Jungkook coughs loudly from behind you. 

You and Yoongi tear your gazes away from each other, as you uncurl both of your fingers from around Yoongi’s coat. “I-uh,” You start. “Was just saying that you should relax a little. You don’t have to try and impress anyone tonight.” 

Yoongi sneaks one last glance at you. “We’ll see,” He says, before stepping away from you and brushing past Jungkook to make his way towards the door. Jungkook turns to look at you, wide-eyed and mouthing the words ‘what the fuck was that?’ 

To which you shake your head, very sure that you don’t want to get into this tonight of all nights. This was supposed to be a celebration for Yoongi. Just as you’ve done for the past few months, you can continue to keep your emotions in check. Easy-peasy. 

Except it’s not easy-peasy because you see Seokjin at the club that he’s reserved for Yoongi’s album release party, and you realize that this is not a chill event for you—you still have to keep up the facade of your relationship in front of everyone. 

Yoongi seems to realize this at the same time you do, because he inches closer to you and laces your fingers together. From afar, Seokjin nods in an unspoken confirmation regarding your behavior. 

The beginning of the party starts with the trickle in of the various guests Seokjin has invited—from the friends he has made in the business, to others signed under the KSJ records label, to you, Jungkook, and Yoongi’s personal friends from college. The onslaught of new people fills you with the usual sense of excitement after not having attended a party in what feels like years. Working as a manager for a budding new artist is a lot less about the parties and more about the hustle. 

The first hour of the event is dedicated to the mingling of people—of free food and conversations around the bottomless cocktails that every guest rushes to the bar to take full advantage of. It’s nice to be able to catch up with the friends that you and Yoongi haven’t spoken to since graduation—which is the group you and Yoongi first approach, as Yoongi is slinging his arm around one Park Jimin. The latter whose eyes widen and lips curl up into a grin at the sight of the two of you. It’s nice to see an old friend again, it almost brings you back to a time where you and Yoongi were both in-tune and surface-level friends.

“Hey, congratulations on the new album release!” Jimin exclaims brightly after the three of you have acquired some drinks from the bartender. Jimin raises his drink first, to which you and Yoongi follow suit. 

As the glasses clink into the air, Jimin adds in another thing that reminds you of the fact that you and Yoongi are not back in college. You are here, in the present, with a fake relationship on the line. 

“And congratulations to your relationship announcement,” Jimin continues. 

You cough on your drink at that, lowering the glass immediately, feeling guilty all of a sudden. “Jimin, I know what all those reports have been saying…” 

“Don’t worry,” Jimin brushes off. “I read through some of them. You guys have been dating for three years, right? I’m honestly surprised I never saw it. In hindsight, it makes sense.” Jimin takes a longer sip, gesturing towards Yoongi with a noise of acknowledgement coming from his throat. “Hm—I guess because you guys are dating now, I can let the cat out of the bag—but, Yoongi liked you from the first moment he met you.” 

Now it’s Yoongi’s turn to choke on his drink, his chest heaving as he coughs into his sleeve. “Jimin, ah, you don’t need to talk about that—!” 

Jimin laughs, naturally assuming that Yoongi’s choke was done out of shyness and not something deeper than that. “What, you think just because this happened when we were at college, I wouldn’t have said something all these years later?” 

You can’t help but smile at their exchange. Although Jimin’s comment about Yoongi’s crush definitely piques your interest. You turn to Yoongi. “You had a crush on me back then?” 

Yoongi opens his mouth, but Jimin beats him to it. “Oh yeah, he wouldn’t shut up about you—said that you had this smile like starlight and were super easy to talk to.” 

“You have a great memory for someone who almost flunked college algebra,” Yoongi bites out hotly. 

Jimin, clearly oblivious to the situation, laughs out loud. “I agree. Normally I would have forgotten all about that. But.” With Jimin’s fingers still curled around the wine glass, he is only able to point an index finger out at Yoongi. “I’ll never forget that look in your eyes. Like you saw something you were never going to let go of.” 

You know Jimin is the one talking, but you cannot help but look at Yoongi as you feel your world spinning slightly around you. You blame it on the alcohol—as small of a sip as you have taken so far. Jimin, unlike a lot of the other parties you’ve been spending your time with, is not in on the joke of your relationship with Yoongi being a PR cover story. So there has to be some merit to it. Right? 

Right? 

Before you can even think how to phrase the billions of questions flying through your mind, the soft beat of a hand against a microphone sounds through the bar, as the original music that has been pounding through the club gets lowered to show that someone is trying to command everyone’s attention. 

It’s Kim Seokjin, situated at the stage, with the microphone in hand. “Hey everyone! Before we actually start unveiling the numbers that Y2 has hit so far, I just want to say a few words. First of all, thank you everyone so much for joining us tonight as we celebrate the anticipated release of Min Yoongi’s album.” 

Lots of claps sound from the guests, several cheers, one of you and Jimin join in just for the sake of embarrassing Yoongi. If he’s flustered with the attention, he’s gotten a lot better at hiding it. 

“Actually,” Seokjin continues. “Why don’t we have the man of the hour join us? After all, my words don’t mean shit up here—I wasn’t the one who just released new music. Yoongi, come on up!” 

Lots more claps and cheers, and the music volume increases dramatically just to give Yoongi some sort of platform to enter on. It makes you laugh. Seokjin is clearly having fun with his role. So you watch, sticking by Jimin, as Yoongi emerges from the crowd to step onto the stage. Seokjin pulls the microphone away from the pair of them as he leans over to whisper something into Yoongi’s ear, where the latter nods a few times before accepting the microphone that is now being extended out to him. 

Yoongi clears his throat, speaking over the lowering music. “Hi guys, thanks so much for coming out,” He starts, laughing a little when there is another round of cheers. “As I’m sure a lot of you know, this is my first full length album that’s being released out into the world and it’s basically everything I ever could have dreamed of. One lesson that I’ve learned is that making albums of both the cover songs I did and the original songs I would produce in my shitty college apartment is a completely different experience than getting professional equipment to do a lot of the work for me.” 

You laugh at that, the memories floating through your mind. 

Yoongi smiles a little at the feedback he gets. But he continues. “And of course a lot of that professional equipment was able to work in my favor because I had helped. Seokjin of course, deserves a thank you for letting me learn and experiment with new sounds, and for letting me take a risk by trying out beats and stories that a lot of people might have turned down. And Namjoon.” He seems to spot Namjoon from the crowd, because he delivers a nod. “For being more than my favorite producer, but also my mentor and my guide. We had a lot of lightbulb late nights together. And finally…” His eyes land on you, and you feel yourself self-consciously straighten up. “Y/N—my Y/N. For those of you who don’t know, my girlfriend is my manager and we recently made our relationship public. I thought the transition from private to public would have been the hardest thing of my life, but she made it so easy. Just as she’s always made it so easy to inspire my music, to be my best friend—and to love her.” 

Love. 

You suddenly feel like you’re seeing the world through a small lens, unable to believe the words you are hearing and the sights you are seeing. Yoongi is staring right back at you, with all this love and adoration in his eyes, lips quirking up as a result of the coos from the audience. 

It’s a vague kind of spotlight anxiety from seeing so many people looking at you considering the circumstances. It’s a feeling that only heightens when Yoongi opens his mouth again to continue speaking. “Actually, honey, why don’t you come up here, so I can thank you properly.” 

The whoops and cheers sound again, and Jimin has to nudge you in the ribs to get you to move. Your initial thoughts are one of panic, suspicion, and curiosity. One glance at Seokjin’s direction conveys the high influx of questions that are flowing through your mind—what exactly are those two boys planning? 

Yoongi’s hand extends out to you, helping you up onto the stage, as you turn around to face the crowd of people Yoongi has just been addressing. Of course, you have less experience hiding your general shyness around crowds, so the most you can muster is a smile and a wave. 

Yoongi laughs into the microphone. “Don’t worry baby, I didn’t call you up to embarrass you. I just wanted to show you that all of this…” He gestures to the whole club, the crowds of people who have taken time out of their schedule to show support, the sounds of his album now filtering through the speakers. “All of this was possible because you believed in me, you supported me, and agreed to help me work toward my dream. This is all as much yours as it is mine.” 

Then, he surprises you by leaning forward to brush his lips across your cheek—a gesture that further incites a bigger reaction of positive cheers and hoots from the audience. You turn your head immediately towards him as soon as he pulls away, your eyes wide with surprise. After all, you and Yoongi have never discussed the rule on kissing before, have never brought up any sort of lip contact to any degree. His boldness is something that takes you completely off guard. 

And judging from the uncertain look that dances behind his eyes, a flicker that only you can see and decipher, you can tell that he hadn’t been expecting that from himself either. 

You’re about to pull away, maybe walk off the stage and take another drink to whatever the fuck that was all about, before Jimin’s familiar voice sounds off from within the crowd. 

“You call that a kiss, Min Yoongi?” Jimin calls, close enough now that it’s easier to see him. “C’mon, kiss your girlfriend like you mean it!” 

The rest of the crowd immediately catches onto what Jimin is doing, and they play into it immediately. Suddenly, shouts of “KISS HER, KISS HER!” sound throughout the guests. 

The new direction that this has taken over the span of just a few seconds seconds you into another wild onslaught of differing emotions. Nevermind the fact that you’ve never agreed to actually kiss Min Yoongi. Obviously, the internal choice has been made for a handful of reasons, none of which you can explain to Yoongi or Seokjin without digging yourself further into this hole where you would truly have no way of escaping.

Which is why you clearly can’t say anything of protest right now. Everyone thinks the pair of you have been dating for years, and that kissing has become a natural action for you both to do. Of course they would play into Jimin’s game, thinking nothing harmful of it. 

Your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you shift your gaze from the crowd of people before you to Yoongi, who looks equally as stunned by the request as you. He plays it off a little bit, however, smiling as he brings the microphone close to his mouth again. “I’m not sure you all would want to be subjected by some PDA, especially you over there, Park.” 

Jimin makes a noise of disapproval. “It’ll just be this one time! I’m sure people don’t mind! Spread the love, Min.” 

Other people from the guest list add on that they don’t mind in between their laughter and giggles, probably writing off you and Yoongi’s shy disposition as just that: a shy, private couple who is still getting used to the watchful eye of the general public. Nevermind the fact that you and Yoongi have just never kissed each other before. 

Yoongi then turns to look at you, microphone down to his legs so that it can’t pick up the small whispers the pair of you start exchanging. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you up here…” 

“No, no, it’s fine, I understand why you did it…” You trail off. “Kissing my cheek, on the other hand…” 

Yoongi groans. “Yeah, that’s my bad. Seokjin said I could consider doing it but I wasn’t thinking when I leaned over. I completely forgot that Jimin is a menace to society. I’m gonna kick his ass after this.” 

You want to continue this private, side-lined conversation, but it is overrun by the louder voices that keep repeating the same two lines over and over again: “KISS HER, KISS HER!” until the echoes of it start ringing in your ear drums. 

Yoongi switches topics to the more pressing one at hand. “So, uh, I guess we should…” 

You exhale quickly, nodding. “It seems so…” 

Yoongi inches closer to you, his breath fanning your lips as your eyes instinctively close. “I’m sorry,” He whispers, the final thing he says to you before he kisses you. 

Now, let’s backtrack a little. You’ve liked Yoongi for years, so to say that you’ve never thought of this moment would just be a lie to yourself. Of course you’ve thought about kissing Yoongi. Or, at the very least, you’ve caught yourself staring at his lips when he would go off on another spiral about his passions. That type of talking is very hot, so what? 

But you never thought you would be able to experience it, to kiss the lips you’ve flickered your eyes to more times than you’re willing to admit. So as soon as you feel the weight of his mouth against your own, your brain goes haywire. Suddenly, all your senses are hyper focused on Yoongi—from his lips, to the warmth of his body wrapping itself around you, to his fingers curled around your wrist. 

You hardly hear the cheers from the audience, too busy allowing your heart to melt into butterflies as he presses harder into you, moving his lips against yours. You part your lips as well, curling your wrist to gather the material of his shirt into your hands. 

It feels like time has stretched out before Seokjin claps both of you on the back, forcing you to jolt away from Yoongi. He actually looks flustered this time—pink cheeks and reddened lips, his eyes are fixated on you, chest heaving. You feel like you’re in a similar state of shock, especially because kissing Yoongi makes something dawn on you. A realization of ice cold water. 

This isn’t just a crush you’ve harbored on Yoongi for the past few years. This isn’t just some small schoolgirl crush living out a fantasy, or something you can easily brush off, or simple butterflies you can squash everytime he reaches out to hold your hand. This is love. You’re in love with your best friend. And you have absolutely no fucking clue what to do about it. 

If the audience is taken aback by this long-term couple in front of them looking zero point two seconds away from devouring each other in a frenzied passion, no one settles long enough to comment or stare upon it for too long. Seokjin does well to grab the microphone from Yoongi and bring the attention back to the actual party on hand. He mentions another round of free alcohol, which are two words that can take anyone’s attention away. 

“And Yoongi, uh, I actually need to borrow for you a moment,” Seokjin murmurs in a low voice. “So I hope I’m not taking away from…” He trails off, gesturing awkwardly between the two of you. “Whatever this is…” 

“Oh no!” You interject quickly, taking a step away from Yoongi. “Not taking away at all.” 

Yoongi gives you a concerned look. “Maybe we should, uh, talk about that…” 

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay, seriously.” You shrug a shoulder. “Just part of the act, right?” 

Yoongi’s concern melts away into something that might be hurt, but it’s gone just as quickly as it had come. “I’ll try not to be long then.” 

You nod. “Yeah, no problem—no need to rush or anything… I’ll just be hanging out with Jimin…” 

Yoongi gazes at you for a few seconds longer, before he lets himself get dragged off the stage by Seokjin. Rather than immediately go out to seek your old friend, you find your gaze following after the two of them, trying to see where exactly Yoongi is getting roped into. 

You continue to trail after them in the club, until the two of them are pulled into a booth—the person opposite of them makes your lips part in utter shock. 

. 

“Yoongi, I want you to meet an old friend of mine,” Seokjin starts as he and Yoongi dive deeper into the thrones of people. Yoongi feels himself being directed towards a corner booth, currently occupied by two people. “She wanted me to introduce you.” Finally, the pair of them stop at the head of the table. “This is Lee Jieun.” 

Right off the bat, Yoongi is vaguely insulted that Seokjin thought that someone like Lee Jieun needed an introduction—because who wouldn’t know who Lee Jieun? 

Lee Jieun, like Yoongi, is a singer-songwriter with a sweetheart reputation, who weaves stories and experiences through her music. But unlike Yoongi, who got his start through Youtube and built himself from the ground up, Lee Jieun signed into a record label at the age of 15. As one could tell, she was that talented. Still is, as a matter of fact. Her albums are continuously winning awards, establishing herself in the charts, connecting with people all over the world. He would know—when Yoongi finally discovered Jieun in the midst of his Youtuber days, it was the catalyst that served as the biggest influence towards the release of his original songs. The fact that they’re both the same age only makes Yoongi even more in awe of her. 

Yoongi being able to see Lee Jieun, in the flesh, is a powerful enough sight to leave him speechless. 

Lee Jieun sits at the booth, looking all prettied up with her big eyes and red lips. Everything about her seems regal, from the smile she flashes Yoongi to the hand she extends out towards him. 

It takes a second for Yoongi to register what he needs to do. Hastily, he steps forward and takes her hand in his. Despite her delicate nature, her handshake is firm as the pair of them move their joined hands up and down once. Honestly, considering their status difference, he feels like a handshake is too casual for them, but he doesn’t speak of it. He just basks in the moment, until he lets go of her hand. 

Afterwards, he joins Seokjin in the booth, sliding into his seat. 

Jieun smiles brightly at the two of them. “Thank you for going out of your way to come talk to me. I hope I wasn’t disrupting your night.” 

Yoongi shakes his head immediately. “Oh, god no. Of course not. I’m just—I’m really honored to see you here. I-I had no idea that you were friends with Seokjin.” 

Jieun laughs. “Oh yeah, we go way back—we were actually signed under the same label. Seokjin left to pursue management a few years ago, but we’ve always kept in touch.” She reaches over to take her glass of soda from the table. “He told me when he signed you, you know. He said that you were doing street performances a few cities down?” 

Yoongi flushes at that. “Oh yeah—my origin story.” 

“I mean, everyone starts from somewhere,” Jieun brushes off, laying down her cup again. “So I’ve honestly been looking out for your name since Seokjin signed you. I heard about your tour, but knew that I wanted to wait until your first full length album just to make sure your reputation was a little more fleshed out before bringing up my idea with Seokjin.” 

Yoongi blinks, switching his gaze from Jieun to Seokjin. The latter nods, as if to let him know that Jieun would be the one providing information. So Yoongi turns back to Jieun. 

Jieun continues. “Since it seems that we’ve both developed a songwriting, storytelling reputation amongst the music industry, I was hoping that you’d agree to do a collaboration with me. Just one single, both of our names attached to it. It’s been awhile since I worked with another artist, and I’m sure that doing this will only further put your name out there. It could also be a really good learning experience.” 

Yoongi almost cannot believe his ears. Lee Jieun wanted to do a collaboration? With him and his inexperienced ass? 

Yoongi coughs out in wonder. “Wow.” 

Jieun smirks. “Not what you were expecting?”

“No, no, not at all!” Yoongi reassures, but then he backpedals a little. “I mean, it’s not that I was expecting you to ask for a collaboration—I just—!” He cuts himself off, exhaling heavily to calm his nerves. “It’s just, you were a very big reason I even wanted to sing my original songs back when I was street performing. So the fact that you’re asking me to do a song together is honestly so crazy to me.” 

Jieun grins. “I’m honored—so are you agreeing to my request?” 

Almost on instinct, Yoongi turns to Seokjin. It’s not that Yoongi doesn’t want to do the collab, it’ll probably be the single most greatest thing to happen in his career, but Seokjin was technically his boss and their contract had it so Seokjin usually had to final say in what he believed would be best for him. 

And for the briefest flicker of a second, Yoongi’s mind switches to you. More than Seokjin’s approval, he finds himself seeking your praise the most. After all, you know how much he admires Lee Jieun. He wants to share this moment with you. 

Instead of jumping up to go find you, he forces himself to stay rooted to his seat. “I-I think I would be the one who feels honored. T-That is, if Seokjin says it’s okay.” 

Seokjin holds his arms out. “Of course it’s okay! The collaboration was also partly my idea. Anywho.” He turns back to Jieun. “We’ll have to run through Yoongi’s schedule with his manager just to see when he’s available. But after that, we can get started.” 

At the mention of you, Yoongi’s manager, Jieun’s eyes brighten with her smile. “Oh yes, your girlfriend.” She sits a little straighter, trying to seek you out. “She’s here at the event right? I’d really love to meet her, if that’s okay?” 

Yoongi nods immediately. “O-Of course!” He also sits up a little straighter, moving about in his seat to try and locate you. He finds you near the bar, seeming to have ditched your hang-out with Jimin, as you take an occasional sip of your drink. “She’s over there.” 

With a nod, the three of them move out of the booth and towards the bar, where you’re still slouched over, scrolling through Instagram on your phone. You seem to notice their approaching presence, because you take a quick glance over to acknowledge them, before doing a double take when you realize who else is in Yoongi’s company. 

“Oh my gosh!” You exclaim, immediately sliding out of your bar stool, your gaze fixated on Jieun. 

Seokjin laughs at your starstruck reaction. “Y/N, this is Lee Jieun—but I’m guessing you already knew that?” 

You seem to realize your behavior, because your shyness comes back. “I do. Um, hi! It’s really nice to meet you.” You reach over to offer your hand. 

Jieun takes it, shaking for a second. “The pleasure is all mine.” 

Your gaze immediately flints to Yoongi. “Yoongi, you didn’t tell me that you were acquainted with Lee Jieun herself!” 

Yoongi waves you off. “Actually, Seokjin is the mutual party.” 

Your lips part in shock, as you nod once, twice, in understanding. “Well, uh, in that case, I hope you’re having a good time tonight, Jieun.” 

“It’s really a wonderful launch party,” Jieun praises. “But I do admit to having ulterior motives. I actually came by to ask Yoongi if he wanted to work on a collab song with me.” 

Your lips part, and Yoongi feels a vague sense of pride swell up in his chest when you turn to look at him, eyes brighter than they have been all night. “Yoongi! That’s so amazing! I hope you agreed.” 

“I did, actually,” Yoongi says with the nod of his head. If you notice that he’s puffing his chest out a little as your words go straight to his head, you don’t comment on it. “We’ll definitely have to go over my schedule with you, pick some dates where Jieun and I can have some writing sessions, and then the recording sessions, just to name the big picture stuff that’ll have to get done. But we should all be good to go.” 

As Yoongi continues to list everything that’ll need to be done in order to create music together, your gaze shifts between Yoongi and Jieun occasionally, taking in their equal excitement and passion for the long project ahead. It isn’t until the end, when you and Yoongi leave the launch party, after having collected praise and much more from the many friends and connections that have been gained throughout the night, you enter the car wearing an unreadable expression—like you’re pondering something that threatens to break you. 

. 

To be frank, you aren’t surprised that Lee Jieun asks Yoongi to collaborate together. Sure, maybe she came a little earlier than you had expected, but you always knew it was a matter of time before the pair of them met. Their reputations are too similar, their personalities too good together; you’re sure that fate would have lined them up at some point. 

It just feels like maybe the universe made them a little too perfect for each other—and it’s something that becomes glaringly obvious as a month of songwriting goes by without a hitch. Every few days, Jieun would turn up to KSJ Records, bright-eyed and always looking so, so pretty. Every few days, Jieun and Yoongi would sit next to each other, conversing about the story of their song, both bright-eyed with unbridled affection for what they were writing. And sure, Namjoon would be a part of these songwriting sessions. But that’s not the point. 

The point is that as Yoongi gets bigger and success becomes a more natural occurrence in his life, the more people he’s going to meet with whom he shares a common interest and dedication for. People he would probably (most definitely) get along with a lot better than he could get along with you. Friendship is nice and all, but it can’t substitute for the powerful combination of passion, intimacy, and commitment that comes out of romantic companionship. 

And you see it in his eyes: the excitement he gets when he’s surrounded with like-minded people. You’re Yoongi’s manager, sure, and one of his best friends, obviously, but there’s only so much you can contribute to conversations about the actual music. Truth be told, when it comes to editing, you just do whatever Yoongi tells you to. And don’t even get you started on the music arrangements—you can’t even lift a candle to what Yoongi himself can do. Or Namjoon. Or especially Lee Jieun. 

And although you know that Yoongi means no ill-intention, it feels as if he takes every opportunity to remind you of that fact. 

“I mean, she’s amazing.” He’s sighing dreamily over his bulgogi. The pair of you are at a corner booth in a Korean barbeque restaurant, on another fake date Seokjin has prearranged for you. It’s not the first date you’ve been on since Jieun entered the picture, and it’s definitely not the first time Yoongi is bringing her up. And although this isn’t even a real date, and although this isn’t a real relationship, there’s only so much you can take—both as a friend and as someone who is starting to feel the curl of jealousy in your stomach. 

Still, you refuse to let the cat out of the bag. So you sigh, picking up your chopsticks and digging into your meat. The only thing you can manage is: “I bet she is.” 

But Yoongi doesn’t stop there. “You should have seen her today, she was on fire. Songwriting abilities, obviously. We were stuck on this one part of the song, but then she just swooped in with this perfect one-liner that made my heart drop. Seriously, it was so cool. I don’t know how her mind works, but I want to keep hanging out with her to learn more.” 

You almost drop your meat completely into your salt dish, but you recover quickly with a cough. The noise helps cover up the fact that your heart feels the white-hot burn of frustration and confusion. “W-Well, you guys do make a good team. You know, being on the same level talent-wise.” 

Yoongi laughs at that, completely oblivious to your state of mind. “Talent-wise? I wouldn’t say I’m anywhere near the level Jieun is at…” 

As he trails off, you dare yourself to flicker your gaze up to him, seeing the pink flush that dusts along his cheeks. Interpreting this as shyness for the internal praise and fondness he has for Jieun, you look away and pick up the plate of raw beef brisket to dump into the grill. 

Yoongi notices what you’re doing, and immediately reaches over to take the plate from you. “Here, let me do it.” 

A part of you wants to fight about it, but you know doing so will just lead you down the path of no man’s land. So you let go, offering the tongs to Yoongi as he takes it to scrap the meat into the grill between the two of you. He takes the silence as an opportunity to further gush about Jieun, and how he can’t wait to work on music arrangements with her, how he’s excited to record the song with her, so on and so forth. 

How could you even contribute to a conversation like this? He’s talking to you about a girl in a way that reminds you of your college days—back when the pair of you were strictly friends and nothing more, and he would talk to you about girls he thought were cute. It feels a little bit like right now. Yoongi and Jieun do make a good team, they get along together, and have formed a closeness within such a short period of time that anyone passing by the studio would assume they’ve been friends for years. Or, even further, that they were dating. At the very least, Yoongi speaks highly enough of Jieun that one could assume that she was the one he liked, and not you. 

It feels a little bit like being left behind—it’s a thought that only continues to fester. 

.

It takes a few more weeks, but you eventually draft up Yoongi’s tour schedule. It’s a few sheets of paper that detail the duration of the tour, the cities, the locations, the dates of each location, the size of the venue, how ticket distribution will work, on, and on, and on—all information that Yoongi has insisted on knowing about ever since he was signed into KSJ Records. The man just likes to know what his fans have to go through in order to see him, and you respect that. 

However, before you can officially create the tour post that’ll be up on the KSJ Records social media account, it needs to go through a final approval: from Yoongi himself. And because he likes to take notes with paper and pen, like the old-fashioned songwriter he is, he’s asked you to print everything out for him. 

This is what leads you to stand near the printer in your office, waiting for the last page to print and slide into your awaiting hands. Once all the pages come out, you flip through them to make sure that every city on the tour is accounted for. You turn back to your desk, collecting some magazines that have been stacked on top of your table. 

Along with getting the setlist for the tour, Yoongi had also asked you to get a hold of some magazines and articles that provided reviews from his first tour. Something about wanting to read any critiques people might have had for his show.

You gather the small stack as well before sliding it into your bag and stepping out into the hall. It’s surprisingly early for you to be leaving your office, the late afternoon, but there’s a part of you that just wants to give the document stack to Yoongi and dip out for the rest of the night. By now, the doubts of Yoongi’s affection for Jieun has dug itself deeper into your mind and letting yourself be around Yoongi for too long brings up too many questions that cannot be good for your mentality. 

Questions like: If he could, would Yoongi prefer to date Jieun for real? 

Was Jieun better than you? 

And the best one of them all: Were you just holding Yoongi back from better relationships? 

You continue to walk down the hallway of the building, your pace a little slower than normal because of the cloudy thoughts that threaten to overtake your mind. Finally, you stop outside of the studio you know Yoongi and Jieun are recording in. You take in a deep breath, forcing your usual cheery personality to shine through as you pull down on the handle and let yourself into the studio. 

As soon as you step inside, you almost wish that you had just slid the documents under the door. The sight of that would probably have been easier to process than the one in front of your eyes right now. 

Namjoon, as usual at the desk surrounded by music panels and laptops, playing the recently finished music through the recording booth situated on the other side of the glass. Behind this aforementioned sheet of glass are Jieun and Yoongi. With headphones on, they’re standing next to each other behind the microphone. Their shoulders practically touching, you don’t miss the way they both keep sneaking glances at each other, the corner of their lips turning up, looking like they’re having the best time together. 

You try not to slam down the door behind you, but your grip on the knob is a little too harsh to call for a softer click. Fortunately (or unfortunately, given how much fun Yoongi and Jieun look like they’re having—wait, did Jieun just touch Yoongi’s arm), neither of them notice your arrival. 

Namjoon, however, notices. 

He turns around to look at you. “Hey, what’s up?” 

You try for a smile, your hand brushing against the door. “Sorry, I slipped a little,” You lie cleanly. You hold up the documents in your other hand. “Yoongi wanted me to prepare a few things for him, stuff for the upcoming tour.” 

Namjoon gestures for you to sit next to him, something that you follow. As soon as you sit down, Namjoon asks to see these aforementioned documents, which you pull out of your bag and hand over to him. It’s quiet between the two of you, the only sounds being the laughs and giggles between Yoongi and Jieun—as if one has them as just told a secret only understood between them. It’s a feeling that doesn’t settle well in your stomach. 

“Wow, this is very efficient,” Namjoon observes, seeming completely oblivious to your internal seething. 

You shrug, eyes still locked in on the inside of the recording booth. “Yoongi asked for the best, so I gave him the best. Hey, so—!” You change topics. “Is there a reason they’re in the booth together? Don’t a lot of collabs nowadays just exchange everything virtually?” 

Namjoon hums. “I didn’t know the jealous girlfriend was a full time act of yours now.” He’s clearly just trying to have fun. After all, only Taehyung and Jungkook know about your crush on Yoongi. “But honestly? I’m not too sure. They just wanted to go in together—said that they could be more personal when working in a face-to-face setting. And they’re actually making a lot of changes as they keep going through the song and hearing how the music is turning out. They’re a good team.” 

Namjoon’s usage of the very same phrase that has been haunting you for the past few weeks doesn’t sit well in your stomach. 

Namjoon returns the documents to you. “Did you want to talk to him now? See if he’s cool with you just dropping it off?” 

You nod. “If that’s okay?” 

Namjoon smiles. “We’ll just wait until they take a breath.” 

Waiting doesn’t turn out to take a long time, because Jieun stops the song to make another statement about what line should replace the one they just sung. And Yoongi looks at her like she’s just hung up all the stars in the galaxy. 

“Namjoon, do you mind starting the song over? We got a new idea for this part,” Jieun calls from inside the booth. 

Namjoon leans forward to press the button. “Actually, you guys have some company.” 

You lean forward as well. “Hey guys.” 

Jieun grins, waving at you through the window. Yoongi acknowledges you as well, but there’s something suddenly stiff about his movements. You notice that he’s also stepping away from Jieun, as if to hide what has been going on between him and Jieun. As if that makes you feel any fucking better. 

“Hey, uh, Yoongi?” You continue. “I have the documents you asked me to prepare for you. I can just leave it here for you to go over if that’s cool. Maybe take a little bit of time today to go over everything.” 

Yoongi thinks about this for a moment. “Actually… honey,” He adds the pet name as an afterthought. “Do you mind dropping it off at my apartment? We’re probably just gonna be focusing on the song until pretty late tonight.” 

The acknowledgement Yoongi has that he and Jieun are in for another late night only grows the seeds of doubt in your mind, as you clench your teeth. You can’t let your insecurities get the best of you. Not now. “Sure,” You manage, trying for a small. 

Yoongi grins. “Thanks baby. I’ll make it up to you this weekend, okay?” 

At this point, it just feels like he’s teasing you and it’s something you find you aren’t really in the mood for. So you manage a curt reply, giving a positive response that you’ll drop by his apartment to deliver the documents regarding his upcoming tour, before you’re up and out of the studio before Jieun, Yoongi, or Namjoon can say one last thing. But you don’t care. The sooner you’re out of there, looking at the heart-eye festival between Jieun and Yoongi, the better you feel. 

So you take the train to Yoongi’s apartment, a now much bigger space in a slightly nicer area of the city. At least, nicer than the college apartment he shared with Jungkook that was no stranger to bed bugs and constant maintenance issues. The newer apartment Yoongi has recently acquired is nicer, has more modern finishes, and is now a space he fills in all by himself. 

As you unlock the door to his apartment, you immediately make your way down the small hallway entrance, where a mirror and his shoes occupy a small corner of the area. The hallway opens up into the living room, and you turn on the light and take in the vaguely familiar sight of his new furniture—home pieces that you helped arrange with him a few months ago. Come to think of it, that was probably the first and last time you had come by Yoongi’s apartment. Before certain life elements got involved. 

Tonguing the inside of your cheek, you plop yourself down on the couch and place the document stack at the corner of the coffee table. It looks rather strange just stacked like that, no context provided, so your eyes shift over for a pen and a post-it note. 

You find a stack of post-it notes, and find a pen sticking out from inside a notebook. Paying little attention to the notebook, you just make a grab for the pen and rip it out of the notebook with the aggression of a gorilla. The notebook flies open, the contents inside barring itself right at you. 

Your immediate reaction is to close the notebook. After all, it just takes one glance at Yoongi’s scrambled handwriting to know that this is one of his writing journals. His most recent one, in fact, judging from how flat the pages after the one currently open appear—like it hasn’t been stained with a pen yet. 

You want to close it—you really do. You and Yoongi have built a friendship on trust. That’s what kept you both together throughout the long years, and you know better than to risk everything just for the chance to scope through what is essentially a songwriter’s diary. 

Your fingers inch towards the edge of the book, about to close it shut, before the title at the top header makes you freeze. 

MY SECRET 

Without meaning to, your eyes read over the lines. And you feel sick to your stomach. 

The song is so raw, so personal, brimming with desire in every verse. It covers lingering stares, secret smiles. A barrier. How Yoongi “wants you more and more with each day, but I know I can’t have you, that I shouldn’t have you”. And you know Yoongi—you know him better than anyone. You know that for all the love songs he sings and the topics he sings about that he feigns ignorance for, he draws on personal experience to write his music. How else could he make everything so personable? 

How could this song not be about Jieun? 

The lingering stares, secret smiles: it clearly points to the events in the recording booth you saw earlier that day, and if he’s writing a song about it, it’s obvious that today hadn’t been the first time for those stares and smiles. 

The barrier: obviously you. The relationship facade he’s forced to put up with you, when he’s clearly so much happier with someone else. 

With those factors, it’s so clear that Yoongi would want Jieun, but would be unable to have her. 

And you’re just the girl in the background with the starry eyes for a guy who would never even look at you the way you want him to. 

That realization brings the hot tears to your eyes, as you slam the notebook shut and bring your hand to your mouth, biting your finger to muffle your sobs. What comes out is the build-up of months of insecurities, of having to keep the biggest secret of your life to yourself, and the additional jealousy brought in by a third party. 

This despair and sadness isn’t good for you, and you know that only continuing to hide it away in light of Yoongi and Jieun’s partnership, in light of your feelings, and Yoongi’s exploding career—you should only be able to handle so much. You’re a human being, and you have your limits. 

And you think this might be it. 

.

.

CHAPTER 6: TRUTHS 

. 

“Y-Yeah, I think it’s food poisoning or something,” You speak quietly into the phone, playing with the edges of your blanket. “I’m really sorry, Seokjin, I’ll try to send out some emails to respond to news outlets today…” 

“Hey, no, you’re totally fine,” Seokjin replies hastily. “I don’t blame you for that. Just try and get some rest today, and update me on how you feel tomorrow.” A pause. “What was it?”

“Uh, it must have been in the takeout I got last night.” That’s a lie. You cooked your own dinner last night, and are lying straight through your teeth regarding your condition, but you can’t find it in yourself to go to work today. Not since the discovery of Yoongi’s crush on Jieun made you want to dig yourself into a hole and never crawl out. 

It’s not like you ever thought you had a chance with Yoongi—but you had just thought maybe something would be different after the hand holding, after his radio interview, after your kiss together. 

But Jieun serves as that nice splash of reality that Yoongi wants someone better than you. Someone more like him—someone passionate about music, who gets along with him better, who can write music with and write music about. 

At this point, it just feels like you’re a weight, dragging Yoongi down in the waves of his past. 

On the other side of the phone, Seokjin sighs. “Damn, that’s always the worst. Those are the ones you suspect the least. Anyways, I’ll let you go. Get some rest. Maybe I’ll let Yoongi know so he can bring some soup.” 

The mention of Yoongi makes you feel like you could actually get food poisoning. “You can let him know, but he’ll probably be too hung up on Jieun to give a shit.” 

Seokjin, of course, knows nothing, so he laughs at what he thinks is your joke. “That’s true. They’re actually at it again today, which is surprising considering Jieun only comes by a few times a week. But no, she was here bright and early and so was Yoongi. Basically, they showed up to the studio at the same time. They called it fate, or some shit like that.” 

“You don’t say,” You return dryly. 

Namjoon’s confirmation that they make a good team, paired with Seokjin’s admittance that Yoongi is hung up on Jieun, puts you in a delicate mood for the rest of the day. You try to watch some TV shows, some movies, play some video games, but you are constantly distracted by thoughts of Yoongi and Jieun. 

You’re all curled up on the couch, about to click into another movie, when there’s a knock on your door. Your heart leaps in your throat as you stand up. You hate the brief flicker of hope in your chest, the curiosity that perhaps Yoongi is the one knocking. 

All those hopes are dashed when you see it is Jungkook on the other side of the door. 

“Oh,” You remark, the smile dropping from your face. “It’s just you.” 

Jungkook looks at you like you pissed in his cereal. “Uh, I don’t see other amazing friends over here bringing you store-bought chicken soup because they heard you got food poisoning last night.” He holds up the bag for extra emphasis. 

You roll your eyes, grabbing the bag from him. “I don’t actually have food poisoning, I just didn’t want to go to work today.” 

Jungkook furrows his eyebrows at your statement. There’s a lot you’ve given him that he can work with, lots of things he can ask about. Maybe ask why you would lie about your food poisoning, maybe ask why you didn’t want to go to work today, maybe ask why you still looked like shit. 

But the first thing he says: “You owe me twenty dollars.” 

You roll your eyes, beckoning him inside with the jerk of your head. “Sure.” 

Jungkook laughs a little. “Wait, okay, I was actually kidding.” But he still steps into your apartment. “I’ll be serious now. Why lie about food poisoning? And since when do you not want to go to work? If anything, you love to go so you can stare at Yoongi’s ass through the recording booth—!” He cuts himself off when you give him a glare of such pure hatred that it actually shocks him. “Wait, are you mad at Yoongi?” 

You tear your gaze away from him, placing the bag of groceries on your countertop. Sorting through what Jungkook has bought serves to be a good distraction. 

Jungkook continues to look at you. He’s quiet, but he always has a lot to say, and since you’ve been his friend for so long that only heightens his need to talk. “I knew it!” He finally says. “I knew you were mad at him. Taehyung and I were placing bets down.” 

You slam the can of chicken soup on the counter. “HEY. What did I say about gossiping?” 

“Not in front of your face?” 

Your hand flinches, as if to stop yourself from grabbing the can and throwing it at his stupid face. Jungkook doesn’t even move in fear, the bastard. “I’m just gonna pretend I don’t know about the bets. You want a can of chicken soup?” 

Jungkook confirmation finds you at the stove, heating up two of the many cans Jungkook had bought for you. Included in his twenty-dollar purchase had been a few containers of tums, and some orange juice. 

Jungkook lingers in the back. “You wanna tell me why you’re mad at Yoongi?” 

You whirl around to face him. “How did you even know I was upset?” 

Jungkook snorts, but quiets down when you glare at him. He coughs. “You’re pretty easy to read, you know. You’ve been acting weird ever since Jieun started coming by the studio.” 

“Weird how?” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. You’re just a little quieter. And you haven’t been spending as much time in the studio as you used to. That was the biggest giveaway.” 

You’re quiet for a moment. You rub at your cheek. “Does Yoongi know?” 

Jungkook shakes his head. “Doubtful. But I think he knows something is up. I was on the phone with him last night.” 

It’s your turn to snort. “Okay, that’s really fucking funny.” At Jungkook’s raised eyebrow, you explain. “I thought he’d be too busy comparing Jieun to sunlight, or something, to notice me.” 

“Oh, so you’re jealous.” 

You and Jungkook have a staring contest, before you sigh. “I accidentally saw Yoongi’s writing notebook yesterday. It had all these love confessions in it, and I’m pretty sure he was talking about Jieun.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No way? Are you sure?” 

You cough. “Well, I’m not a hundred percent. But it was all about this forbidden crush he couldn’t act on because of a barrier. Who else could be the barrier? He obviously thinks I’m holding him back from pursuing a relationship with Jieun.” You think about your words for a second, trying to decide if Jungkook is trustworthy enough to disclose this information to. “I think I’m gonna break it off with him. Maybe quit too, while I’m at it.” 

Jungkook’s lips part. “But why?” 

“What else am I supposed to do?” You cry. “I can’t keep up this fake dating with Yoongi anymore, it’s too complicated, and I’m actually in love with him so that opens up this whole other series of complications. And it’s not fair to Yoongi—he shouldn’t have to deal with feelings he obviously doesn’t return. The whole charade thing just isn’t doing me any good. And even if I break off the relationship, I would still have to see him all the time because of the whole manager situation. Quitting just seems like the best option for me.” 

Jungkook is quiet for a second. “How do you even know he wrote that song about Jieun?” He finally asks, speaking carefully. 

You shrug. “I don’t know. I just have this feeling. Who else has he been spending all this time with? Who else could that song possibly be about?” 

Jungkook gives you a long, hard look, like he almost can’t believe your brain can be thinking those thoughts. But he relents. “I think you should talk to Yoongi before quitting. He’s one of your best friends. He deserves to know why, at least.” He looks over your shoulder. “The chicken soup is done.” 

You whirl back around to turn off the stove. But also so Jungkook can’t see the tears glassing over your eyes. 

. 

It turns out, telling Yoongi you want to quit is a much more difficult task than you could have thought. For starters, Seokjin sets the pair of you up on more dates than before. Apparently, there are some rumors going around regarding Jieun’s more and more frequent turn-ups at KSJ Records, and people have started connecting the dots that her appearances are tied to either one of two reasons. Either Yoongi and Jieun are collaborating on music. Or they’re dating. 

The second reason is a lot juicier, much more exciting, so naturally a lot of people have gravitated towards supporting that reason. To try and expel those thoughts, Seokjin sends you out on more dates with Yoongi. It’s all fine, but your thoughts about breaking off this relationship and quitting just makes you more quiet and closed off as you wallow deeper into your thoughts. 

You suddenly don’t know how to contribute to the conversations Yoongi tries to bring up to you. The words seem to fail you every time, and you feel yourself constantly resorting to silence or one-worded answers. And it constantly always feels like Yoongi is standing too close to you. Every step towards you is a step away from him. When he tries to hold your hand on the sixth date in two weeks, you wiggle out of his grasp and pretend that you need to fix your jacket. 

Your own journey to self-destruction means that you are completely oblivious to the hurt in Yoongi’s eyes with every step you take to distance yourself from him. But what could you even say to him?

How could you tell him you want to quit your job in public? That would obviously lead to a fight, and it would reflect badly on Yoongi’s public image. Just because you want to quit doesn’t mean you still care about him, because you do. And you still want him to succeed. With Seokjin’s constant scheduling of dates, it leaves little room for you to share in an actual private discussion. The only off times Yoongi has are the days Jieun comes by the studio, and you try to stay a mile away from that place now. 

But it turns out, you don’t have a choice today, because Seokjin calls you into his office and tells you to drop off the samples of cover art that has just been dropped off at the studio. The cover art is something that Jieun and Yoongi have designed together for the album, to be displayed when the single is released. 

With heavy feet, you make your way through the hallways and towards Yoongi’s studio space. Every fiber in your being hopes that Yoongi and Jieun will be in the recording booth, working on their song (or even better, just not in the studio at all), so that you don’t have to face them enjoying each other’s company right in front of your face. There’s no music coming through the door, so your heart soars that latter prospect. 

As you open the door, however, you realize that there’s no way for you to be so lucky. 

Inside, Yoongi and Jieun are eating lunch, takeout noodles split between the two of them, and they’re in the middle of laughing. The laughter, however, stops when you open the door, effectively interrupting their fucking date. Which is a thought that does nothing to make you feel better. The silence that echoes on only further makes you feel like shit. 

You and Yoongi sharing a room privately nowadays is a rarity, since you’ve been doing a good job at avoiding him at all costs. His unanswered text messages and shortened calls echo through your mind at the sight of him. With the look he’s giving you, you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. 

Jieun, however, remains completely oblivious to the situation as she gives you her normally bright cheery greeting. You stare at you, momentarily stunned. You would have thought Yoongi shared the troubles of your relationship with her, for some reason. You try to remain nice about it, though, giving Jieun a small smile as you return her greeting. 

“I, uh,” You start, bringing the package up for both of them to see. “Your cover art came in today. Seokjin just asked if I could drop it off here.” 

Jieun brightens at the sight. “Oh my gosh, it came! Do you mind if I…?” She trails off, hands reaching out to take the package from you. You give it to her. “Yoongi, isn’t that so exciting?” 

“Yeah…” Yoongi trails off. A quick glance at him tells you that he’s staring at you. You look away. “Did you see it yet?” He asks you. 

You shrug. “I, uh, haven’t. But, anyways, I have to get going.” 

“Hey,” Jieun calls, freezing you slightly in your path. “Thanks for bringing this over. We really appreciate it.” 

We?

The use of that specific noun, while supposedly harmless in the current context, makes your stomach flare with that white hot curl of jealousy. Your teeth clench, as you swallow down the spiteful words that almost manage to escape into the air around you. You smile, no teeth. “You’re welcome.” That’s the only thing you can manage before you’re turning around to open the door and practically bolt yourself out of the studio. 

You only make it a few feet before the door to the studio opens and you hear footsteps trailing after you. He calls your name, and your heart drops. You are so not ready for any type of one-on-one conversation with Yoongi right now. 

But your entire soul still gravitates toward him, so you stop and turn around to face him. 

Yoongi is by himself this time, and looking like a mixture of confused and defeated as he approaches you. “Listen,” He starts. “I know that we haven’t had a lot of time to really talk…” 

“It’s okay,” You brush off. 

Yoongi says your name again. “You know, you don’t need to lie to me. You’re my best friend—I can tell when you’re hiding something from me.” 

You sigh, shaking your head as every nerve in your body is telling you to walk away. “Yoongi, I’m not sure I can do this right now.” 

“Do what?” He presses. “I know that I’ve been super busy, but if you want to talk you can just let me know. Tell me what’s bothering you, okay? Because I…” He trails off, sighing, and you feel that vague sense of guilt wash over you. “I can tell that you’re avoiding me and it’s really shitty. I can’t even focus that much on my song with Jieun.” 

The mention of Jieun stiffens you up again. “Well, sorry for being an inconvenience,” You spit. “Why don’t you go back to your new fucking girlfriend if you’re gonna bring her up to my face again.” You couldn’t stop yourself this time—the words were too ready at your lips. Your chest is heaving from it too, but it is things that you know that you will regret saying. 

Yoongi’s eyebrows furrow deeper together as your words. 

You stare right back at him, the shadow of a thought passing over you. If you’re going to tell Yoongi your biggest secret, it might as well be right now. You don’t know the next time you will be this brave, this reactive, this bold. 

Both of you open your mouths at the same time. 

“Did you just call Jieun my girlfriend?”

“I’m quitting.” 

You clamp your mouth shut. You hadn’t meant to speak at the same time as him. A small wave of regret passes through you, as you hope that Yoongi wouldn’t have heard your statement over his question. But of course he does. 

Yoongi’s frowns at you. “Did you just say you were quitting?” 

You take a step back, running a hand through your hair as your exhale comes out shaky. More shaky than you intended it to. Oh no. “Yeah,” You manage, already feeling your emotions bottling up. “I was gonna try and talk to Seokjin about quitting before I left.” 

If Yoongi thinks you were joking before, he definitely doesn’t now because he takes a step towards you and catches your wrist before you can go that far. “B-But why?” His eyes have gotten a little wider, and he’s staring at you like his world is being pulled apart. 

You try to tug your wrist away to no avail. Your mind tries to flash through several different excuses, but you realize that you need to tell him the truth. Yoongi deserves that much, at least.

As you try to collect your thoughts, Yoongi starts scrambling. “W-Was it something I did?” He asks quickly. “Because normally you’d always try to call me out and I’d fix myself immediately. A-Are you unhappy with your position? Because I can try to get Seokjin to give you less workload or something. I-I’m really sorry if it was something that I did to hurt you. I-I just really need you here so talk to me… please…” 

You shake your head. “It’s a little more complicated than that,” You whisper. “I know your secret, Yoongi, and that’s why I can’t do this anymore.” 

“W-What secret?” His eyes are still on you. 

You take in another breath. “I went over to your apartment that night,” You start. “And I saw what you were writing in your journal. I know that you’re in love with Jieun, and that you only see me as a barrier to pursuing a relationship with her. And that sucks because normally, I’d encourage you to go after her. But we’re doing this whole dating thing, and I feel like I’m neck-deep because…” Your words come out a little more shaky. “Because I’m in love with you,” You whisper. “I’ve been in love with you for years. B-But I know now that I’ll never measure up to Jieun, or any of the other girls in this industry who deserve you more than I do. I thought that I could keep being professional for you and your career. But it’s too hard for me.” 

“W-Wait,” Yoongi says, tightening his grip on you. “Can you just let me explain, please? It’s not like that, I promise you.” 

You rip your wrist from his hand. “I read it!” You retort loudly. “Who else could be the person you want more than anything, but can’t have because of a physical barrier? When else have you used a real person to inspire your music? It’s too hard for me, Yoongi! I can’t keep doing this!” 

Yoongi seems to be struggling with his next words. “So, what?” Yoongi asks, circling around his next question carefully. “You’re just going to leave? Is this… the end of our friendship?” 

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know! I haven’t thought this out that far. But I know that we shouldn’t be doing this fake dating charade anymore, because I know there’s no way these past few months have meant the same to you as it did to me. I also know that I can’t really be in the same room with you right now.” 

Yoongi hopelessly gazes over at you, his own chest heaving as he himself struggles with what to say. “Please don’t do this,” He returns softly. 

Your gaze lingers on Yoongi’s for just a while longer, trying to burn the image of him in your mind, before you shake your head. “I’m sorry.” 

. 

As it turns out, Seokjin is out of the office for the rest of the evening. Which is fine, right? Whatever. You can just call him tomorrow morning and schedule a meeting with him, tell him the urgency of it and will definitely be able to muster your strength for another conversation about your secret feelings for Yoongi. 

You return to your apartment and immediately burst into tears as the weight of today’s confrontation sinks its teeth right into your neck. You just shared your feelings with Yoongi, you threatened your employment, and almost cut off your friendship with Yoongi as a result of that. 

Your many years of friendship, of late nights, of laughter together. It seems silly to want to cut off an important friendship just like that—but it just seems unfair of you to carry on with a friendship where you’re always going to crave more. And if Yoongi is smart, he’ll know that as well, and he won’t come back. 

Still, a part of you just hopes a little. Even though, of course, it’s a stupid thing to hope for. Yoongi has already established his taste, and it’s definitely for people leagues above you. The thought only makes you cry a little harder, so much so that you try to drink some water in order to calm down. 

You’re in the beginning stages of patting down your face, of grabbing some spoons to put into the freezer, when there’s a series of frantic knocking at your door. You turn your head towards the source of the noise, trying to figure out who could be visiting at a time like this. It’s been a few hours since your confrontation with Yoongi at the studio, but you assume that he’s probably blowing smoke up Jieun’s ass. There’s no way that it could be him. 

So you open the door, and freeze when you realize that it is Yoongi. 

More than that, it’s Yoongi with his chest heaving. Almost like he has just run around the entire city to reach you. 

The only thing you can manage right now is a wide-eyed stare.

Yoongi stares right back at you. Just a few hours ago, he had looked so helpless and lost for words. A first, actually. But this time, he’s staring at you with so much intensity that you cannot look away. 

Yoongi finally seems to catch his breath. “You’re an idiot,” He states. 

You’re so caught off guard by that statement that you forget you’re supposed to be upset with him. “I’m sorry?” You ask. 

Yoongi huffs, practically barreling past you to step into your house. You try to tell him to stop, but he’s distracted by rummaging through his backpack for something. With a sigh, you decide to close the door. As soon as he’s standing in your kitchen, he finds an old, beaten up notebook that you vaguely remember from his college days. He points at you with his notebook. “You’re an idiot,” He repeats. “If you think that the lyrics on my coffee table are the first time I’ve written lyrics about a specific person.” 

At your shocked expression, he immediately starts flipping through the notebook. You notice that certain pages are marked with sticky tabs. 

Yoongi settles on a page and clears his throat. “Hidden within the walls of our lecture hall, your laughter curls through the cracks like liquid fire. You light up my day amongst borrowed pencils and shared jokes. I knew that you were going to change my life,” he reads. He looks up at you. “The first day I met you, when I asked you to borrow a pencil.” You remember those lyrics. It was from a song he had written called ‘starlight’—the opening song on his first EP. 

He flips through a few more pages. “I never learned about love, but I watch her believe in my dreams, take the same steps to join my team, and I feel like I could figure it out.” He looks at you. “When you agreed to help me with my Youtube channel.”

He continues through his notebooks of lyrics, of stories, of secrets. Every single lyric he reads to you connects back to some memory he holds of the two of you. All the memories together in college: from the panic attack he had in the bathroom of the first party the pair of you attended, to exploring the nearby cities via subway until early mornings, to corner ramen shops. 

Soon enough, he moves on to the lyrics he had written during his first tour. The distance he felt, and how that related to the emotional distance he felt with you—that desire he constantly felt for more, and how the manager and artist relationship the pair of you had couldn’t hold a candle to the friendship you once held. The distance was never a physical challenge, and that was something you could never connect the dots on. 

Every stone of his hidden affection is turned over, every lyric he has marked read over and explained with such a passion. It’s like he has waited years to finally have his turn, to finally speak the way he’s always wanted to—directly, with no tricks of music and whimsical arrangements to make you doubt everything he could say. 

He had written whole songs about the fake dating experience, of how he wasn’t sure he could only pretend to love you when it was the only thing he ever knew how to do. 

Finally, he flips to his most recent song. The very song that you had stumbled upon the other day in his apartment. “I want you more and more with each day, but I know I can’t have you, that I shouldn’t have you,” He reads. He looks up at you. “The barrier was the blanket of our fake relationship. You were never stopping me from doing anything, because you were the only thing I have ever wanted. So…” He gestures to all the notebooks that he has laid out across your kitchen counter. “Do you now see how many song lyrics are actually about you? All about you. Because you’re all I’ve always known.” 

Your gaze carefully studies each notebook, layered over each other, overflowing with dedication and passion. The privacy of someone who has surprisingly spent his entire singing career sharing nothing but his darkest secrets. Your arms are overlapped with each other, tightening against your form. “I-I had no idea.” 

Yoongi shakes his head, but when he looks at you, his eyes are soft. “I figured that.” He’s leaning across the counter to keep his gaze leveled with you, but he pushes himself even closer to tap a finger on the spot between your eyes. “I thought I made it so obvious. You were never listening.” 

“I-I never thought to,” You admit softly. But Yoongi has a point. Ever since he started writing and sharing his original songs, he has done nothing but sing them to you in any and all forms. From the private sessions the pair of you shared in his college apartment, to the performances he would deliver on the street, in the recording booth at all hours of the day, to the tours and the audiences that sing those love declarations right back at you. For years, Yoongi has done nothing but give, and give, and give. And you had no idea. 

Your breath hitches, and Yoongi rounds the counter and gathers your face in his hands. “Shh,” He coos softly. “It’s not your fault.” 

You sniff. “It is my fault! I’m such a stupid bitch. And I treated you and Jieun like shit because I thought you were in love with her. I thought I was holding you back from being able to date who you really wanted to be with.” 

Yoongi shrugs. “I mean, technically, you were.” At your look, he hastily goes to explain himself. “The person I really wanted to date was you. But since we were, uh, fake dating, that prevented me from being able to date you for real…”  

You groan at his teasing grin. “You idiot, that was so bad.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Yoongi is still grinning though, tracing his thumb over your cheekbone. His eyes follow the movement, mentally outlining you into his mind. “I just wanted to see you smile.” His smile slips a little. “Since you had been ignoring me for so long.” 

You pout. “I told you, I thought you were in love with Jieun. And honestly, that would make a lot of sense… she’s really pretty and talented and you guys could talk about music for hours, especially compared to me—!” 

“Stop,” Yoongi cuts in, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m gonna stop you there before you say something I don’t like.” He angles his head to level his gaze with you. “Jieun is really cool, I’ll probably be the first one to admit that. But she’s not you. Hey, c’mon, look at me.” He forces you to look at him again. “You are also so, so pretty and smart and talented. You may not know a lot about music and songwriting, but you were always the one who pulled all-nighters with me to edit my videos, or learn music with me, or point out if something in my music didn’t sound right. Your passion to help is something I really love about you.” 

You pursue your lips to hide your smile. “Love, huh?” 

Yoongi doesn’t even hesitant. “Well, yeah, because I’m in love with you. I thought that was obvious.” 

You exhale. “Yeah, well, it’s different hearing you say it outloud.” 

Yoongi grins. “Well, hopefully you’ll get used to it. I have many years to make it up to you.” His smile dies down a little. “I’m sorry,” He finally settles with. “I should have been more straightforward and honest with you about my feelings. You must have been suffering for so long, having to keep it all in and everything.” 

You shake your head. “I’m also sorry,” You whisper. “For jumping to conclusions so fast. And also not really listening to your lyrics. That was kind of stupid of me, considering I’m your manager and everything.” 

Yoongi laughs. “It seems like you’re good now, seeing as you’ve just gotten an exclusive behind-the-scenes artist cut and commentary about his songs.” He pauses for a second. “So, I hope this means that you won’t quit being my manager. And that, maybe, we can promote our relationship from fake dates to real ones.” 

You smile. “I’d like that.” 

His smile turns softer. “And I was hoping that maybe I can kiss you again. For real, this time. No cameras, no Seokjin breathing down our necks.” 

You giggle. “Just so you know, if the kiss at your album release party had been a real one and we were actually dating at the time, I probably would have wanted you to fuck me in the bathroom or something.” 

Yoongi groans. “Don’t say that with that cute smile on your face. Makes me want to do things to you.” 

“I don’t see you pulling away though.” 

“Of course not.” Yoongi’s figure loams over you now, his lips brushing against yours. “I have three years to make up to you.” 

With that, he kisses you, silencing whatever next words you were going to say. That is, if you even had any to begin with. Now that he’s kissing you, stealing the breath from your lungs, you’re not even too sure any thoughts have been floating around at all. Unlike the kiss at the album release party, which had been softer and dainty, held back to hide a secret, this kiss is rougher. Yoongi is already moving his lips against yours, already parting his lips to brush his tongue against your lower lips. His hands are already sliding across the counter, trying to cover you more and more. 

His hand slips on the counter though, almost sending his sprawling on top of you. You catch him with your hand on his chest, as the sudden action makes both of you pull away from each other. The sight you both face is very much like the sight from the launch party: flushed cheeks and redden lips, a desire for more flickering behind eyes. 

But this time, there is no expectation to carry on in a party like a long-term couple. That is what allows Yoongi to wrap his arms around you, pulling you to his chest this time. He kisses you again, slower, softer, but you deepen the kiss with the part of your own lips this time. There is an unspoken agreement between the two of you as he lifts you into his arms and blindly navigates through your apartment, into your bedroom, where you both fall atop the mattress. 

“And just for the record,” You whisper, right when Yoongi pulls away to let both of you catch your breath. “I love you too.” You’ve already admitted your feelings earlier in the day, but it’s worth it to see Yoongi deliver that heart pounding gummy smile. 

[noritoshiikamo]

worth my time

pairing: noritoshi kamo + fem!oc genre: porn (is fingering enough to call it porn??) without plot ish??? tags//warning: established relationship // slight smut???, fingering, emotional drained reader, reader dated character but then forced into arranged marriage and doubt the whole rs note: unedited, lowercase intended, just me and my nori brainrot dont mind the plotholes and everythingn, its not accurate according to the manga/anime like i just wanna feed myself and i haven't write in ages pls sent some ideas so i can get my lazy brain going, english isnt my first language im sorry if i murder it  directory: read the first part | second part | third part | bonus

“how long have you known?”

noritoshi shrugged, bringing the cup of tea to his lips. the way he took time to answer her question drove her mad. “noritoshi, how long?” her voice strained. “would it make any difference if i’d known today or 10 years ago?”

her eyes shot wide opened, “10 fucking years?”

a small smile appeared on his lips as he lowered the cup, “hypothetically.” she grabbed one of the pillows from the pile on the bed and threw it to his face, embedded with what little left of her jujutsu power. they have been going on for hours and she was clearly too stubborn to let it go. it was clearly weak; he dodged it with a flick of his wrist switching the pillow’s trajectory. “you’re a fucking asshole,” she gritted through her teeth, falling on bed as wave of anger and sadness crashed through. “you think i wanted an arranged marriage? you think i like having every aspect of my life set since i was a child and scrutinized? i’m a bastard sitting on a throne. unlike you gojou clan, i had it much worst.”

she pulled her hair, fighting the tears that was already streaming down, “it’s not a competition. we are in the same school, i sat next to you for years and you’re telling me you have no idea that i’m your future wife, bullshit!” her eyes flickered as she threw the next close thing within her power’s vicinity; a vase. something hit the vase midway, breaking it into ashes and she watched as a drop of blood stained the floor. he broke it with his power. “you can throw every single thing in this room, y/n, but it doesn’t stop the fact that we are already married.” it was that one sentence that completely broke her. falling on her knees, she let a cry out, clutching on her chest as she cried to her heart’s content. this can’t be happening to me, no, no, no, her mind echoed as she forced herself to surrender to the fact that they are married. it’s not something easy to undo. it pained him to see her like this, but his wife needs to understand that he could do nothing about it. she cried for what seems to be like hours, the sleeves of her yukata wet from the tears and sweat. she fell on the floor to her knees, resting her body against the bed before finally looking up to meet her husband’s eyes. he could see defeat in her tired eyes. “we dated each other,” she sniffled, “was that real or was it just you scouting for your future wife?” her words sound like venom to him “i know you won’t believe me, but it was real. i would still marry you even if the marriage isn’t arranged.” noritoshi stood up, his barefoot echoed on the floor as he walked to his weakened wife. her body was hot, he suspected the skipping (refusing to eat) meals, raging and throwing tantrums after another had put her body in so much stress. he reached for the sash, trying to undo her yukata and she freaked out. grabbing his wrist, she shook her head, “what are you doing?” she asked shakily. “would you listen to me for once? you need a cold shower, you’re burning up, it would help.” she stopped fighting. his tone was a mixed of annoyance and tired. dating him made her realized that noritoshi has a high level of patience; but not right now. letting go of his wrist, she slipped the yukata off her shoulder herself, whined about how she disliked cold shower below her breath. he wore a small smile as he hoisted the naked girl up. it’s a small victory on noritoshi the husband, he’ll savor it for now. 

the girl kneeled on the floor of the shower as noritoshi slowly ran the shower head slowly up her body. her arms wrapped tightly against her chest; she cursed every time the cold water reached new part of her body. ignoring the fact that his yukata was getting wetter, he kneeled behind her and let her rest her back against his chest. with the shower gel, his body froze every time she whined at his touch. something about the way she whined under his touches made him weak. he wants to kiss her stupid face so badly. “it’s cold,” she mumbled, her eyes closed as he ran his palm against her stomach. he pressed a kiss on the side of her face, “better?” he asked as his hand travelled lower. her eyes widened. he continued his kisses, down her jawline and her neck, bruising every spot as his fingers traced a lazy circle on her clit. she moaned out a throaty yes. he continued to whisper sweet nothings into her ears, promises of how he would take care of her, how he’s going to be a perfect husband, how she would be a perfect wife, how they’ll live happily together. she nodded her head in delirium, the pleasure of his fingers had her grinding her back on his crotch and emptying her thoughts. she could barely think straight. “tell me you’re mine,” he commanded, slipping a finger inside, “i can take care of you, baby,” her eyes rolled back, his words were not helping, it was just pure gasoline thrown into a burning fire. “nori, i want to cum,” she muttered, clutching desperate on the now two fingers. she felt his warm breath on the crook where her shoulder meet her neck, his fangs brushing threateningly against the sensitive skin. “open your mouth,” he urged, she whined at the lost feeling of his lips on her neck. she felt something dripping between her lips, his thumb brushing the lower lip. it painted her lips red. it tasted metallic, almost like a blood. it was his. he watched in satisfaction as his blood marking appeared on her right eye. he can control her blood, heightened her senses, throwing her body’s sensitivity off the wall, driving her off the edge with every spot of her body he touches; it sends pleasure twice as much. it wasn’t long until her velvety wall spasmed around his fingers. her body jolted forward; her shaky hands pressed against the wet tile preventing her from falling face first as orgasm washes out. she could barely make any noises, her throat was so dry, she felt like it might bleed.   she won’t deny that the orgasm eased her pain, but she would deny if he dared brought it up; he would not get the pleasure of knowing she enjoyed that.

his palm brushed against her thigh, causing her to look up. he raised his eyebrows in question which she brushed it off with a nod. she grabbed his hand and steadied herself up.

“i’m okay,” she voiced out.

he undressed, continued their shower from square one. they’ve done this before; sharing shower after mission washing blood off each other but this time, it feels different. she sighed at the pleasure, letting her hands rest against his toned chest. we are married, the sentence echoed in her mind as he massaged the shampoo on her head. never ever she thought that this is how she’ll be married. it’s not like she dreamed of a huge wedding. he did throw a small gathering, respecting her boundaries and her anxiety but everything just moved so fast. her parents are dead, her only remaining family is satoru, a distant cousin who finds it a no issue for her to marry her boyfriend. it is not an issue for her to marry noritoshi kamo, she loves him so much, but not like this.   she wished she had more choices in this.   he hummed a song, a habit of his that he caught from his mother, a lullaby his mother always sings. she wanted to hate him so much, for befriending her, making her fall in love with him and then forced her into a marriage. but when she opened her eyes and stared up into his, to see such loving look in his eyes, it weakened her. her heart is a wreck. “why do you do this to me?” she whimpered, slamming her fist into his chest. he refused to answer.

she was tired of his silence.

he turned the shower off, opening the glass door letting waft of cold air out. he left to fetch her towel and she stalked toward the nearby mirror. “how long until the thing wears off?” she asked when she caught a glimpse of herself. she reached to touch the blood marking on her eyes. he wrapped the towel around her body, hugging her from behind and through the foggy mirror, he brushed his thumb on her cheek, whispered something she couldn’t catch as the mark subsided.

“this doesn’t change the fact that i’m mad at you.”

he laughed it off, “i didn’t say it does. you always feel better post orgasm, you know how i know it?” he kissed her temple, eyes burned into hers, “because i dated you.”

her teeth gritted in annoyance.

“you think if i dated you to scout my future wife, i wouldn’t waste my time learning how your body responds to me, the way you yearn for me,” a kiss fell on her neck, “learn how well you control your shikigami and goes through lengths to teach you how to use my bow,” another kiss went up her jaw, “teach you my own blood techniques because god, why jujutsu needs to be such an exclusive thing,” arms went around her waist, “worried sick every single time utahime send you off for a mission, taking care of your wounds, being there to catch your reckless ass,” his breath lingered on her ears, “completely falling in love with you wholeheartedly for 3 years. i’d abandoned my father’s choice. you are arranged to be my wife, on my own accord. i choose you. you weren’t my father’s choice, but even in million years, even if sukuna’s vessel reincarnated again and again, even if the world split open and sent you miles away, even if i’m not the head of kamo clan,” his hand grabbed her chin, hard and forced her to meet his eyes, his words send shivers down her spine, “i would still choose you.”

she’s completely putty in his hand. she let out a soft whine as his body abandoned her, his warmth gone and came the cold biting her bare skin. her eyes followed the back of the man as he stalked to the wardrobe leaving the girl alone to ponder on his words.

“now, wouldn’t it just be a waste of my time, my wife?”

[heezoneie]

Hello lovely! 💕 Hope you're having a good day!

Can I ask for a reaction from stray kids where they meet you at a fan meeting and are attracted to you?

Thank you so much and I like your blog!

hey babe! i’m having a great day, thanks for asking🥺! i’m glad you enjoy my blog, and i hope you enjoy this reaction! <3

group: stray kids

member: all

genre: fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chan:

• when you first walked up to Chan his breath immediately got caught in his chest.

• your bright smile never leaving his view for a second. he couldn’t believe his eyes.

• immediately when you reached the table he began to make conversation. “hii, what’s your name?” he said as he grasped your hands in his.

• “my name’s y/n” his heart began to beat a little faster at the sound of your voice. he has never reacted this way to a fan before.

• chan found himself getting flustered as you ranted about how good of a leader he is. “overall you are the most caring, loving, all round amazing person and leader there could be.”

• his cute dimple showed as he hid his face behind your hands that were still locked with his. he lifted his head and your eyes met with his comforting brown ones.

• “i know i’m technically not supposed to say this,” he began while eyeing the staff behind him, “but i think your super pretty, and i would like to meet you again.”

• your eyes widened at his statement. you’ve read about situations like this happening, but never in a million years did you think it would actually happen.

• chan leaned into your ear and whispered, “meet me outside after the meeting, i can’t wait to talk to you more.” with that he pulled away with a wink.

Minho:

• you had walked up the table while Minho had his back turned. when he turned back around, his eyes widened.

• “oh sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you..” you said sheepishly. minho.exe has stopped working he felt his heart soften at your voice.

• he smiled, “no no, it was my fault i should have been paying attention.” as you were handing him some plushies of his cats, you happen to accidentally drop one.

• ofc minho couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease you. “mY cAts!! mY pReCioUs cAts!” he grabbed his heart dramatically.

• you quickly picked up the stuffed soonie, and handed it to him. “i can’t believe i just did that,” you muttered to yourself.

• (he’s totally whipped already, but who’s keeping track?)

• “i think you owe me now, after dropping my car of course” he panned. quirking an eyebrow, his statement puzzled you.

• “to replace the pain you’ve inflicted upon this stuffed soonie, i think you should come meet the real soonie and give him all the pets he deserves.”

• deciding to go along, you nodded your head, “ i definitely think i should, to apologize.” grabbing your phone from your hand, minho put in his address.

• “be there by 6, don’t be late.” he gave you a smirk and sent you down to meet the rest of the members.

Changbin:

• we are all aware how this man is a s o f t i e as soon as he saw you in the crowd his face would immediately light up.

• he could not keep his eyes off of you (lowkey jealous when you were talking to the other members)

• but oh boy, as soon as you reached him, he would turn into a big baby, and probably tease you about not coming to him first. not like you had a choice

• he would grab your hands and pretend cry into them, which made your face turn bright red. this man knows what he’s doing to you btw.

• he would be so smiley, and makes sure to show off his famous aegyo, bc he wants to to fall for him

:((( even though you already have smh

• binnie would 100% make sure to somehow give you his number and meet up afterwards, bc he’s totally not in love or anything

Hyunjin:

• i got a little carried away with hyun’s😅

• our drama king

• ofc when his eyes found you, his jaw dropped, i mean physical fell

• his eyes followed you everywhere. he looked like this: 👀🙀 he definitely tried to convince chan to switch places with him so he could talk to you first

• when chan said no, he went 😠😠😔

•pouty baby bc he just wanted to talk you first:(((

• when you finally got to him, he flashed his always amazing eye smile. you noticed he had some makeup covering his mole under his eye, and you told him about how much you loved it.

• he:(((( wiped:(((( off:(((( the:(((( makeup:((((

• like when felix did it to his freckles in that one interview? yeah that’s what hyunjin did

• he is also a lowkey highkey flirt with you, constantly touching your hair, hands, face, basically anything he can within reason

• he got so sad when you had to leave, almost to the point where he got so caught up in pouting that he nearly forgot to ask for your number till you were already walking away.

• this boy did not care if anybody else saw, or what the staff was gonna say. he jumped out of his chair and quickly ran to you.

• gaining your attention, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of sight of all the other impatient stays wanting to see their precious hyunjin.

• that’s where he asked for your number, and went on a little rant about how he’s sorry he made a scene.

• it’s safe to say you guys went for food right after the fan sign

Jisung:

• when he saw you walk in, he knew. like he KNEW that he wanted to talk to you, hang out with you, etc.

• so so incredibly hyper when you got to talk to him

• this boy would be so goofy with you, grabbing your hands and flailing them around. it would just be him wanting to make you laugh :((

•jisung swore could swear that when he made you laugh for the first time, angels descended from the heavens.

• he didn’t want to stop talking with you, he just wanted to take you back to dorm right then and there, and just hang.

• you best bet this boy talked to you until finally the staff had to intervene to get the line moving again. he handed you a piece of paper, and told you to wait until you got out of line to open it.

• once you finished going through the line, you found a empty area near the exit and opened the little piece of paper.

• wrote in a messy scribe from writing fast, the paper said “meet me behind the building @ 4, if anybody bugs you tell them your with me. ;)”

Felix:

• he saw you as soon as the fan sign started he basically started bouncing in his seat. (yk the vibrating thing he does? he did that out of happiness.)

• lix would watch you interact with the other members with the biggest smile on his face.

• he would admire all the little mannerisms or quirks/habits you have while making conversations. he just watches with big doe eyes full of admiration.

• he knew he n e e d e d to talk to you. when you got to him, he was so excited and giddy.

• this boy just looked at you with wonder as you talked. he would listen to you talk and laugh all day if he could.

• he thinks you are the most adorable thing to ever walk the earth. he just wants to bundle you up and feed you brownies and cake :((( (someone pls find me a felix)

• when he realized time was up, and he was gonna have to let you go, he got so sad. but was he gonna let you go? no, no he was not.

• felix quickly grabbed a stuffed bear from behind him and wrote his number on its little bow.

• as he handed you the bear he said, “pls call me, i want to see you again.🥺”

Seungmin:

• bby seungminnie

• okay, i feel seungmin would be the best at hiding the fact that he is 100% simping for you even though he just met you 5 seconds ago.

• he would act normal, but on the inside be a complete mushy gushy mess, crying over how adorable and cute you are.

• secretly, would be cherishing the way your hand fit in his perfectly, and the way he never wanted to let go :(((((

• he would look at you with the most adorable eyes ever. he would definitely give you the sweetest most softest smile ever.

• his eyes got so sad when you told him you had to move on to the member bc other stays were becoming impatient :(

• he discreetly put his phone number in your phone, and made sure to tell you to text him asap :(

• i want a seungmin.

Jeongin:

• bbys eyes would be literally this “🥺” when he saw you.

• he was immediately so taken back and needed a minute to compose himself before he ran up to you himself.

• when you were talking to him, he would give you the biggest most cheesey smile ever. he was just so happy to be talking to you.

• he was already falling for the way you talked, acted, looked, just everything about you.

• he would hold your hands so tight, never wanting to let you go. his eyes wouldn’t leave yours for a second, not even when the staff tried to talk to him.

• when he finally decided to listen to the staff telling him to wrap up the conversation, he made sure to tel you to meet him after the fan sign

• and who were you to pass up and opportunity like that?

• he was so happy when he saw you show up after, bby couldn’t stop smiling the whole day. :((

[ming-yu-hao]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fonder | Chapter 4

Pairing: fratboy!mingyu x female reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Synopsis: When you transferred to a different university, you and Wonwoo promised that you would make long distance work. But distance proves to be more difficult than you both originally thought.

This Chapter’s Tags: cheating obviously, some angst and fluff, public teasing, unprotected sex (oops), light degradation/impact play/begging, use of restraints, brief face sitting, shit just goes down in general just wait

Warning: THIS SERIES IS ABOUT CHEATING. DO NOT READ IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

A/N: hey... how y’all doing... yeah I disappeared... but I’m back! The past two months were a mess but I’m ready to come back now and I’m v excited. Pls accept this chapter as a token of my forgiveness </3 Feedback is appreciated as always :) AND THANK U FOR 100 FOLLOWERS!!! :D

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The ride home was quiet.

Jisoo had drank a little too much, and it was evident by the way she laid her head upon your shoulder and mumbled slurred gibberish against your skin.

You opted to ignore her drunken antics, and instead just wrapped your arm around her shoulder while training your eyes on the darkness outside the front window.

Only when Jisoo trudged over to her bed after taking off her makeup and changing her clothes did she seem to have sobered up. She sprawled across her mattress, her face pressed into the blankets, before she turned and gazed at you. You were laying on your own bed, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as you stared up at the ceiling.

Finally, Jisoo spoke a coherent sentence.

"Where did you go?" She asked. "At the party," she added a moment later.

You hesitated for a second.

"Wonwoo called me so I went to the bathroom. And then we fought because he was pissed that I went to a party without telling him." You explained. It wasn't a lie; that was what happened, before Mingyu showed up of course.

Jisoo sat up quickly in her bed, crossing her legs like a child listening intently to a teacher. She placed a hand under her chin and narrowed her eyes at you.

"You fought..." She started but trailed off. "Is that why you went off with Mingyu?" She questioned.

You stopped toying with the fabric of your shirt, completely frozen in place at the accusation.

"What?" You responded, your mouth suddenly dry. You sat up in your own bed now, staring at her with wide eyes.

"Come on, I'm not stupid." Jisoo rolled her eyes. "I saw you and Mingyu going upstairs. And then a minute later some guy comes in screaming about how he found Mingyu and some girl fucking in the bathroom. It wasn't hard to put two and two together."

You were horrified. It felt as if a hard punch had been delivered to your gut and a million wasps stung your skin at once. You could barely catch your breath.

"Wha- Does everyone know?" You cried, not even attempting to cover up that you had sex with Mingyu; Jisoo had already figured it out, and there was no way you could ever convince her otherwise.

Jisoo shook her head. "No, I only knew cause I saw you with him. And I didn't say anything to anyone." She reassured you.

You didn't say anything else. Hell, you couldn't even think of anything to say. You threw yourself back against the bed, covering your face with your hands. Embarrassment ate away at you.

Jisoo watched you in your distressed state, and she almost felt inclined to apologize. She shook away the thought and asked: "What are you gonna do?"

You peeled your hands off your face and sighed. You felt like crying again. You hated it; you were so sick of crying.

"What am I supposed to do?" You responded. "I don't even know what I'm doing anymore."

Jisoo chewed on her bottom lip as she thought for a moment. "Well... do you still wanna be with Wonwoo?"

"Yes," you said quickly. "I still love him. And I miss him a lot. But I just... things have been really bad lately."

Jisoo finally laid back down, mimicking you by staring at the ceiling. "You're gonna have to talk things out with him then. Be honest. Stop seeing Mingyu." She sighed. "That's what I would do."

You knew that Jisoo was right. But the thought of cutting off Mingyu left a sour taste in your mouth. You liked him a lot, as a person, and it felt unfair to just ditch him after the times he was there to comfort you.

But this was all so much more unfair to Wonwoo.

"Are you sure... that you wanna stay with Wonwoo?" Jisoo added in response to your silence.

Were you sure?

You said that you loved him: You loved the Wonwoo that took you to the cafe near campus and bought you your favorite latte; the Wonwoo that spent hours in bed with you binge-watching dumb cartoons; the Wonwoo that stayed up late with you on weekends to help you study for your exams.

He was still that same person. Things were just different now that you were far apart and couldn't be in each other's presence anymore.

Right?

Would the Wonwoo from a year ago have ignored your texts and angrily hung up on you?

How could this all possibly be to blame on some distance?

Jisoo took your silence as an answer and cleared her throat to regain your attention. She shifted onto her side to look at you, and you turned your head to meet her eyes.

"Look, I don't think you're a bad person, okay? I think you just made some mistakes." She said. "I know you care a lot about him, but long distance doesn't work for everyone."

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stop them from watering.

"Just think about it, okay? I don't want you or other people getting hurt." Jisoo said. She rolled onto her other side, her back now facing you. "Goodnight. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight," you finally responded. Your voice was hoarse and weak.

You swallowed, and then reached for your phone.

You: that guy from the bathroom told everyone about you Sent at 12:48 AM

To your surprise, Mingyu responded quickly.

Mingyu: oh I know Sent at 12:48 AM

Mingyu: don't worry I already put him in his place Sent at 12:48 AM

You giggled quietly to yourself as you typed a response.

You: should I be scared for him? Sent at 12:49 AM

Mingyu: nah he'll live Sent at 12:49 AM

Mingyu: goodnight Y/N Sent at 12:49 AM

Mingyu: sweet dreams :) Sent at 12:50 AM

Just as you finished typing a reply, quiet vibrating sounded from Jisoo's side of the room.

She stirred in her light state of sleep, feeling around her bed and eventually pulling her phone out from under her pillow. "Hello?" She said, hints of tiredness evident in her voice.

You wondered who could possibly be calling her right now. You guessed it was Seungcheol, but once Jisoo shot up in her bed alarmingly fast you began to doubt yourself.

"What?" She cried. "Is he okay?"

You sat up yourself now, watching her with concern as she turned on the light and began rummaging through her closet.

"I'm leaving right now. No, I'll be fine. I'll text you." She said as she pulled a backpack out and began wildly shoving items into it.

"What? Where are you going? What's going on?" You questioned once she hung up.

"My dad's in the hospital. Had a stroke or a heart attack or something, I don't know." Jisoo rambled without looking at you. She ran over to the bathroom with her bag in hand. "I'm going home for a few days." She explained from the other room.

When she walked back into the room, her backpack was slung over her shoulders and her eyes were shiny with tears.

"I hope he's okay. Please be safe." You responded, though it just made you feel useless.

"Thank you," she said, looking at you with saddened eyes before turning towards the door. "I'll see you soon." She called over her shoulder before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her.

Then you were left alone, with nothing but the dark room and the thoughts that weighed on your conscience.

You found it difficult to fall asleep that night.

When you walked into class on Tuesday, Mingyu looked different.

His hair was pushed back in his signature style and he wore his usual plain shirt and jeans, but something about him was changed. His chest seemed to be lifted with a newfound confidence.

He gave you a small smile when you approached him, and you swore you noticed his eyes graze over your figure, but you sat down without saying anything. You adjusted your skirt as you settled into your seat and pulled out your phone.

You anxiously checked your notifications, waiting for Wonwoo's name to appear, but there was still no answer.

You finally had sent him a text this morning saying that you needed to talk to him. You had spent the past few days thinking about what Jisoo said, and it was difficult to admit, but she was right.

Now it was just a waiting game until Wonwoo was ready to talk.

A notification caused your phone to buzz, and you perked up as you thought it might be Wonwoo, but instead it was a text from Mingyu.

You glanced over at him with your brows furrowed, and he just stared ahead, biting his lip to suppress a smirk. You opened the message.

Mingyu: you look good Sent at 10:05 AM

Your skin flushed at the compliment, and you quickly typed a reply.

You: you couldn't have said that to me in person? Sent at 10:06 AM

His own phone vibrated against the desk with your response. He picked it up nonchalantly, huffing out a quiet laugh.

Mingyu: well the reason I didn't say it out loud Sent at 10:06 AM

Mingyu: is cause I also wanted to say that I keep thinking about last weekend Sent at 10:06 AM

Mingyu: when your thighs were shaking Sent at 10:06 AM

Mingyu: seeing you in that skirt reminded me of it Sent at 10:07 AM

You impulsively pressed your thighs together, your eyes widening and your lips flattening into a line as each message showed up on your screen.

You: you really think this is the time and place to be saying that? Sent at 10:07 AM

You: calm down you're acting like a douchey frat boy Sent at 10:07 AM

You smiled to yourself at your teasing reply, and you heard Mingyu quietly chuckle.

Mingyu: wowwwww Sent at 10:07 AM

Mingyu: don't act like you don't like it Sent at 10:08 AM

Mingyu: I see you rubbing your thighs together over there Sent at 10:08 AM

You felt your face burn up as you realized he could see the effect he had on you. You didn't respond, letting him continue on.

Mingyu: I know you're a bad girl Y/N Sent at 10:08 AM

Mingyu: you liked it when I spanked you Sent at 10:08 AM

Mingyu: bet you'd like it if I touched you here right now Sent at 10:09 AM

You clicked your phone off quickly, setting it down against the desk. Your face was red, and you cleared your throat, trying to focus as the professor finally entered the room.

You kept your gaze locked on the front of the room, but you could still see Mingyu shifting closer to you out of the corner of your eye.

Just as the professor began talking, fingers brushed against your thigh and began toying with the hem of your skirt. You swallowed thickly, cursing yourself for the growing arousal between your legs.

Mingyu turned his head slightly towards you. "Don't react," he whispered. He turned his attention back to the front of the room, but his hand remained on your thigh, now softly squeezing the flesh between his fingers.

You inhaled a shaky breath, nervously glancing around the room. Luckily, you and Mingyu sat at the edge of the back row; the only other people in your row sat further down and to the left of Mingyu. His body and the desk most likely concealed everything that he was doing to you, but you were still fearful of getting caught.

His hand trailed upwards, slipping underneath your skirt. His fingers pressed into your inner thigh and you bit your lip. He stared forward, his face blank, as if nothing was happening.

His hand brushed against your core, and you inhaled sharply. The corner of his lip quirked up at the sound. Then he pressed his fingers against your clit through the fabric of your underwear.

Your thighs squeezed shut around his hand instinctively, and Mingyu tsked quietly before pushing your legs apart again. He began rubbing slow circles through the fabric, your arousal soaking through. Your stomach was twisting into a tighter knot with each moment that passed.

Then Mingyu suddenly slipped his fingers beneath your underwear, pressing into your bare folds. You gasped quietly and quickly grabbed hold of his wrist.

"Stop," you muttered, your voice full of alarm. Mingyu pulled his hand away, and you clenched as you were left with nothing, but you let out a relieved sigh. You were panting quietly, and he glanced at you with worry in his eyes as he wiped his hand on his pants.

You pulled out your phone and quickly texted him.

You: we can't do that here Sent at 10:14 AM

Mingyu: I'm sorry Sent at 10:14 AM

You glanced at him, and he looked back at you. You nodded as if to say "it's okay" and chewed on your bottom lip as you contemplated sending your next message.

You: come over tonight Sent at 10:15 AM

Mingyu's tongue darted out to lick his lips and he turned his head towards you. His lips were upturned into a smirk as he gave you an affirming nod.

Time seemed to crawl during the rest of your classes for the day; you were anticipating Wonwoo's response and running over in your mind what you were planning on doing with Mingyu later.

As evening approached, a large hole formed in the pit in your stomach. Wonwoo still had yet to respond, which left a bitter taste in your mouth; you guessed he still wasn't done giving you the silent treatment.

You almost texted Mingyu a few times to tell him not to come over, but each time, you thought about his hand slipping beneath your skirt in class and erased your message.

You were only okay with this because Jisoo was still gone, but also, the thought of inviting a guy over to have sex while your roommate was visiting her dad in the hospital made you feel guilty. And gross. When did you become so desperate for some dick?

It was around 10 PM now, and you were pacing around your room while waiting for Mingyu to show up. You had changed out of your skirt, now wearing shorts and a crewneck instead.

A knock at the door startled you, and then your stomach dropped. You were really doing this again. You twisted the knob with hands that trembled softly and opened the door.

Mingyu stood on the other side, and you quickly observed his appearance as he stepped into the room. He also had changed his clothes from earlier. Now he was wearing sweatpants and a zip-up over a t-shirt that hugged his chest nicely. His hair was a bit messier, too.

"Hi," you exhaled.

Mingyu stood tall over you, making you feel small and nervous. You fidgeted with your hands as you stared up at him.

"Hey," he replied, licking his lips as he scanned your face.

You hesitated. "Um... do you wanna watch a movie or something?" Internally, you cursed yourself for being so stiff and awkward. But Mingyu's lips turned up into a small smirk and he agreed.

A moment later, his body laid next to yours on the bed while you picked out some random movie on Netflix. Once it started, the rapid beating of your heart didn't allow you to pay attention to the laptop screen; it was so intense you were afraid that Mingyu could feel it.

You were also hyperaware of the sensation of his body lying next to yours. The warmth of his body radiated onto you and the soft fabric of his clothing felt like a blanket against your bare skin.

"Are you even paying attention?" He asked suddenly, causing you jump slightly.

You cleared your throat. "Y-yeah."

"You seem so tense," he teased. He placed his hand on your thigh and lightly squeezed. You inhaled shakily, keeping your eyes on the screen. "Is something on your mind?"

"No," you gulped.

"Don't lie to me, Y/N." He said with a hushed voice into your ear. "I know what you invited me here for."

His face was so close that his nose was brushing against the side of your face while he spoke. Your stomach was in a tight knot now, and somehow your heart was beating even faster than before.

"You were so wet when I was touching you today." He continued to tease, lightly biting your ear. The hand that rested on your thigh moved up, his fingers brushing against your clit. "I knew you'd like that. You're dirty, aren't you?"

He pressed his fingers to your clit through your shorts as he asked the question. You whined softly, your hips jerking up at the stimulation. Finally, you turned your head towards him, pressing your lips to his in a rough kiss.

Mingyu bit at your bottom lip while he kissed you, and then pulled away after a moment to glance at the laptop that was still playing the movie. "You're not watching this, right?" He joked before shutting it and placing it on the floor.

He hovered over you now, his body caged between your legs, and went back to kissing you, this time with his tongue slipping past your lips. You moaned against his mouth softly as he pressed his warm body against yours.

He pulled away for a moment, making eye contact with you as he asked: "You sure you wanna do this?" He ran his hand down your side reassuringly as he awaited your reply. "We don't have to." He added before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

The sudden shift in his demeanor left you stunned for a moment; you quickly nodded before you could hesitate. "Yes, Mingyu." The hands that rested on the back of his neck pulled him closer to you, connecting your lips once again.

His hands began to tug the bottom of your shirt up, and the feeling of his fingers brushing against your stomach left small goosebumps across your skin.

Soon, clothes were discarded about the room, leaving you in only your bra and underwear and Mingyu in his sweats. His bare chest pressed against yours as he sucked and nibbled on the skin of your neck. You let out a soft moan, not even caring about the bruises that would later appear.

Mingyu lifted his face from your neck suddenly, mumbling against your cheek with a small smile on his face: "Can I try something with you?"

You stared at him, eyes wide with curiosity, and he grinned. His eyes seemed to flash with something that resembled insecurity before he finally admitted: "I wanna tie your hands."

You felt a gush of arousal between your legs at the thought—the thought of being teased with the inability to touch his skin. You nodded in approval. The corner of his lip twitched up at your receptiveness, and he glanced over his shoulder before grabbing one of your belts off the floor.

He secured it around your wrists before pushing them above your head, and just as he was about to continue leaving kisses across your body, you spoke. "Mingyu?"

His eyes widened as they rapidly scanned your face for signs of discomfort. "Do you not like it? Should I take it off?"

You snickered at how worried he was before asking: "Can you make it tighter?"

Relief flooded over Mingyu, and then he chuckled softly in disbelief. "Anything for you, sweets," he joked while adjusting the restraints around your wrists. You laughed, and the previous anxiety left your body.

Your wrists were bound tighter now, giving Mingyu full control, and his hands squeezed your waist as he placed a kiss on your chest. "I can't believe you," he said. "Acting so innocent when you're really a little whore for me."

His vulgar words shocked you, but you couldn't deny the other effects they had. You whined quietly, desperately raising your hips to meet his. Mingyu pushed your hips back down against the bed, and then one of his hands reached up to grope your chest.

He left wet kisses and bites across your body as he made his way from your neck to your hips, discarding the last of your clothing and leaving you bare beneath him. His jaw dropped a bit as he pulled your underwear down your legs, revealing the arousal that had built up. "So fucking wet," he observed in awe.

He began to kiss and suck on the skin of your inner thighs, avoiding the place where you needed him most. You wanted to reach down and tug at his hair, but the belt around your wrists prevented the action.

You groaned as you tried pushing your body closer to Mingyu's. "Please, Gyu." You begged. Mingyu glanced up at you from between your thighs with a smirk plastered on his face once he saw how desperate you looked.

"Is this what you want?" He asked as he dragged his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal. He rubbed your clit in tight circles and your legs twitched in response.

"More," you said in between moans. You were already sweating and red in the face out of desperation; you could feel your hair sticking to your forehead.

Mingyu stopped his movements, but his hand remained pressed to your clit, and it throbbed beneath his touch. "What else do you want?" He teased. Your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could clearly imagine the cocky, satisfied expression on his face right now. "Tell me," he pleaded.

He suddenly resumed his ministrations, this time at a faster pace, which made your stomach twist. You cried out, unable to form any words. "Come on, Y/N. Use your words."

He brought his hand down to your pussy in a rough slap. The sensation caused your entire body to jolt and you let out a whimper in surprise. Mingyu buried his face in your neck before whispering into your ear: "Beg for it."

Finally, you caved, and you arched your back as you moaned, "Please, Gyu. Please fuck me."

A devilish yet satisfied grin settled across his face as he pulled away from you. "Good girl." He quickly said as his hands found their way to the waistband of his sweatpants. You glanced down, seeing the way his cock strained against the fabric. You wanted to reach out and feel him, but all you could do was lie there helplessly as he undressed himself. He lowered his pants further down his hips until he suddenly stopped.

"Do you have condoms?" He questioned, his lips pursing in thought.

You shook your head. "No. Why would I have them?" Realization slowly began to dawn on you. "You didn't for-"

"Fuck," Mingyu groaned while running his palms over his face. "I forgot."

Disappointment settled over you, but the lust you were feeling for him remained. You ran over various thoughts in your mind as you observed his conflicted expression.

Mingyu's arms dropped to his sides. "It's okay," he reassured. "We can do something else." He looked up at you, his previous lust-filled expression returning as he caressed your thighs. "Have you ever sat on anyone's face before?" He suggested.

The thought enticed you—the image of Mingyu between your thighs always made your stomach twist—but ultimately you knew you needed to feel him inside you.

"Just fuck me anyways." You blurted out. Mingyu's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"What?" He cried.

"I'm on the pill," you quickly explained. "You can just... pull out or whatever." Heat rushed to your cheeks; you had become so desperate for him.

You weren't sure what you were doing. Deep down, you knew it was a terrible idea, but you were being controlled by lust—the same lust and desire that made you tell him you wanted to kiss him a few nights ago.

Mingyu's lips were still parted in shock as he scanned your face. "Really?" He didn't see a single hint of hesitation on your visage.

"If that's what you want..." he trailed off. You saw a look of desire return to his eyes as he observed your bare body. Finally, he pushed his pants down his hips and leaned over you again.

His forearms rested on either side of your head, trapping you beneath him as he slipped his tongue into your mouth once again.

He reached down and grabbed hold of his hardened cock, guiding it through the folds of your pussy. Your jaw hung open and a deep moan escaped your throat at the pleasure. "You're gonna be the death of me, I swear." Mingyu mumbled into your ear in response to your moans.

He coated himself in your arousal as he continued to rub his cock against you, his tip nudging your clit and teasing you with the smallest bit of relief. He buried his face in your neck as he finally pushed himself into you.

A loud moan fell from his lips at the feeling. This was so much different from last time. It felt warm and soft and bare. Every sensation felt amplified; the stimulation was so intense.

"Holy shit," you gasped. You felt it too.

Mingyu's hips stuttered as he bottomed out inside you. "You feel so fucking good," he groaned. His words mixed with his hot breath against your throat made your entire body burn up. Mingyu slowly pulled himself out of you, and your back arched as his cock rubbed against your walls before he pushed into you again roughly.

Your chest rose and fell quickly with each short breath you took while Mingyu set his pace of his hips slapping against yours. Your back was still arched, and your hips lifted up uncontrollably to meet his.

"F-fuck," you whined. Your arms tried to spread apart, but they were restricted by the belt again. There was a dull ache in your wrists, but it only added to the pleasurable mix of sensations you were feeling right now.

His hands were squeezing your waist tight, to the point where you thought there might be marks there later. He thrusted into you quickly, desperately trying to reach his high. You opened your eyes to watch his euphoric expression: his head was tilted back, his lips parted, and eyes fluttered shut.

He let out a particularly loud moan and his eyes met yours. A small smile found its way to his lips before his eyes grazed down until they reached your chest. He watched the way your breasts bounced with each movement, and the sight nearly made his eyes roll back into his head.

"You gonna come?" He choked out as he saw the pleasure on your face. You moaned in response, unable to speak. He leaned over you and wrapped his hand around your throat. He stopped for a moment, before roughly pushing into you, his hips slapping against yours.

Finally, he brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he continued to thrust into you. The knot in your stomach burned and tightened. You clenched around him, which caused him to choke out a moan.

The pressure in your stomach reached its breaking point. Your body was washed over with a feeling of euphoria as your thighs shook uncontrollably. You could barely hear yourself when you let out a loud cry.

Your moans, the euphoric look on your face, and the feeling of you clenching around him all led to the snap of pleasure in Mingyu's core. He gasped as he struggled to pull himself out of you. "Fuck, I'm coming."

Hot ropes of cum painted across your stomach. Mingyu's chest rose and fell with his pants and moans as he watched the substance cover your body.

"Fuck," he whispered in awe once his orgasm faded away and he admired the mess he left on you.

Just as you were trying to catch your breath and relax your arms, they were stopped by the belt again. "Are you gonna take this off me now?" You asked.

Mingyu chuckled. "I guess so." He finally undid the loop and threw the belt to the floor. You sighed in relief. Mingyu quickly noticed the red marks on your wrists and caressed the irritated skin. "Oh, no. You could've told me it was hurting you." He frowned.

"No, it's fine. I-I liked it." You admitted sheepishly. Luckily, your cheeks were still red from before, so it hid the embarrassed flush of your skin. It was true, though. You never did these types of things before, and you certainly never thought pleasure and pain could go together, but you now that you had experienced it, you were enjoying it all too much.

Mingyu shook his head in disbelief, a smile spreading across his lips as he stared at you. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his softly.

After a moment, Mingyu pushed you back slightly. "You, uh, probably don't wanna get that on your bed." He pointed to the cum on your stomach. You glanced down. You had almost forgotten it was there.

"Yeah, you're probably right." You laughed. Mingyu reached over for a tissue to wipe it off. The two of you cleaned up, and soon you were lying next to him on the bed again, with him back in his sweats and you with an oversized shirt on.

You faced each other, but your head was curled up against his chest, listening to the quiet sound of his heart beating beneath his ribs.

"You don't seem sad this time." He said. His chest vibrated beneath you as he spoke. You pulled away to look at him with your brows furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. All the other times we've done this you just seem sad after. But this time you don't." He noted.

You shrugged. "You seem different too. More cocky, I guess."

Mingyu pushed you playfully. "Shut up," he snickered.

"No, seriously!" You exclaimed with a laugh. "You were so awkward like a week ago and then today you pulled that stupid stunt in class!" You playfully smacked him back in the chest.

"Okay, yeah. You're right." Mingyu smiled, and then he sighed. "I guess I'm just... getting used to this."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, both thinking of the same thing.

Mingyu rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. "Which I really shouldn't be," he continued. You chewed on your lip as you pondered what to say.

"I'm breaking up with him."

Saying it out loud made realization hit you like a ton of bricks. But you weren't upset anymore. You would miss all those trips to the coffee shop and weekends in bed from over the past two years, but they had already come to an end the moment you packed up and moved away. At this point, he had become someone you used to know—someone you were holding on to when maybe you should have let go a long time ago.

Mingyu was quiet for a moment. "Wow," he finally spoke. "That's probably for the best. You didn't seem happy."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. An awkward silence started to settle, so you cleared your throat and quickly changed subjects. "So, I haven't heard much about this frat you're in."

Mingyu chuckled softly, turning towards you again. "What do you wanna know?" His hands idly reached for yours, fidgeting with and rubbing circles on the back of your hand.

You thought for a second. "Hmm, I guess... who are the other guys besides you, Cheol, Seungkwan, Seokmin, and bathroom guy?"

Mingyu let out a loud laugh. "Oh, God. Bathroom guy is Soonyoung. I swear, he's the smartest yet stupidest person you'll ever meet." He paused, his face contorted in thought. "Then there's Josh..."

You slowly stirred awake, scrunching your face once you realized the light was still on and about to blind you the second you opened your eyes. You peeked open an eye, glancing around your room for the clock. It was almost 4 AM. You sighed, groggily trying to sit up and recollect what you were doing before you fell asleep, but an arm was weighing you down.

You glanced over your shoulder, and were taken back in surprise for a second when you saw Mingyu lying next to you. The two of you must have dozed off at some point without realizing, and now he was pressed up against you from behind with his arm draped over your waist. He was sleeping deeply, with his lips slightly parted and cheeks puffed out.

You peeled his arm off you slowly, careful not to wake him as you slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. You observed yourself in the fluorescent lighting. Thankfully, your hair wasn't too messy, but your makeup was still on and smudged around your eyes. Something about it almost made you feel hungover.

You spent a few minutes cleaning yourself up before staring at your reflection. If it wasn't already awkward enough that you and Mingyu accidentally fell asleep together, now he would see you bare-faced and groggy with sleep when he woke up. Sure, you two had sex a couple times, but somehow sleeping together was a thousand times more intimate.

You tiptoed out of the bathroom, slowly shutting the door so it didn't make any noise. You lay back down in bed stiffly, pressing yourself right against the edge to avoid Mingyu's grasp.

Just as you finished turning off the light and settling back into bed, Mingyu's arm reached forward and rested across your waist again.

"What time is it?" He muttered, his voice raspy with sleep. You jumped at the sudden noise.

"Oh, um, it's 4:02." You answered.

Mingyu pushed himself up onto his forearm and rubbed his eyes. "Like, in the morning?" He asked. You told him yes and his eyes widened. "Woah, sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep." He yawned.

He fully sat up now, running his hands through his messy hair. He turned to you, just barely able to see you in the dark. "I can go, if you want."

Oh, God. Even though this situation was an awkward mess, there was no way you could make him go home now.

"I'm not kicking you out in the middle of the night. What kind of terrible person do you think I am?" You responded, to which Mingyu laughed under his breath. "It's only a few more hours."

"Okay," Mingyu said as he lay on his back again. He rolled onto his side, his back towards you. You sat in silence before Mingyu added, "Thanks for not kicking me out."

You chuckled quietly, allowing your eyes to flutter shut and waiting for sleep to overtake you again.

The next time you woke up, sunlight shone in your eyes. With your eyes squinted shut, you rolled over, expecting to bump into Mingyu, but were greeted with empty sheets instead.

Your eyes shot open as you felt around the bed and realized that Mingyu was nowhere to be found. You couldn't help feeling disappointed. Even though you were dreading having to face him in the morning, the fact that he left without saying a word stung.

Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open. "Oh, you're awake," a low voice called. Mingyu stood in the doorway, still shirtless and his hair a little tousled.

You smiled. "I thought you left."

"Nope, still here," he replied. He sat on the edge of the bed and gazed at you. His dark eyes looked like they held a certain warmth in them. "I've never seen someone look so nice after waking up," he said.

Your face burned up instantly. "Stop," you cried sheepishly, burying your face in your hands. You didn't even want to imagine what you looked like right now.

Mingyu grabbed your wrists and pulled them away from your face. "No, really!" He exclaimed while you wrestled back with him. "Your hair isn't even messy and your skin looks so clear," he said in between laughs.

"What are you trying to do, Mingyu?" You cried.

"Just take the compliment and say thanks!" He responded.

You stopped fighting back, letting him hold your wrists while you stared at him with a pout. "Fine," you grumbled. "Thank you."

A satisfied grin settled across his lips, and suddenly you noticed how close he was to you. "You're welcome," he said, his face only a few inches from yours.

You watched as his eyes dragged down to your lips and your breath nearly caught in your throat. He inched forward until his lips met yours. The kiss was soft and slow, until he pushed you back against the bed and pinned your wrists by the side of your head. He slipped his tongue past your lips and you moaned quietly against his mouth.

"You know what I said last night about you sitting on my face?" Mingyu pulled away to say, staring down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

You felt arousal growing between your legs as you nodded rapidly. Mingyu let go of your wrists to lie on his back instead. Your hands trembled a bit as you reached to pull your underwear down your thighs.

"Your phone keeps going off," Mingyu said.

"Huh?" You didn't even hear it because you were too focused on the knot you felt in your stomach. You recollected yourself and shook your head. "Just ignore it. It's probably Jisoo or something."

"Hurry up," he teased, lightly smacking your thigh. You were straddling his waist.

"I am! I'm just nervous." You replied, trying to ignore the heat that was rushing to your cheeks. "I don't wanna accidentally kill you."

Mingyu rolled his eyes. "Oh, shush. I wouldn't wanna die any other way." You hovered above his face, hesitating each time you tried to lower yourself. Finally, Mingyu grabbed onto your thighs and pulled you down. You instantly moaned at the feeling of his warm tongue flicking against your clit.

"H-holy shit," you moaned breathlessly. He held onto your thighs tightly, not allowing you to move. Your legs began to twitch at the stimulation and your hips rocked involuntarily.

Mingyu pulled away, and you thought for a second that he was trying to tease you before he groaned: "Oh, my god. Who keeps calling you?" He shoved his hand under your pillow and pulled out your phone, squinting at the screen as he read.

"Who's Wonwoo?"

Your heart dropped right into the pit of your stomach. It felt like someone had punched you in the gut and you were unable to catch your breath.

"Are you kidding?" You cried. Mingyu had never seen your eyes so wide before. He turned the phone around to show you. Sure enough, Wonwoo's name was on the screen.

"Is that your boyfrie-" he started, but you interrupted by jerking the phone out of his hand.

"Don't say anything," you ordered. You hit answer and brought the phone up to your ear with a shaky hand.

"Hey," you said, trying to conceal the quiver in your voice.

"Hey," Wonwoo replied. Hearing his voice again made your throat tighten.

"I'm on campus. Can we please talk?"

[dameronology]

all love {steve rogers}

summary: you had a lot to say to steve rogers after he left. finally, you get your chance. 

warnings: angst, mentions of death

believe it or not, this version is actually the one with the happier ending than all the other ideas i had. so pls don’t hate me, bc this ain’t fluff :) 

- jazz xx

Steve Rogers was a complicated man.

You knew that. You could see it in his eyes because you were just as complicated too. It was a blessing and a curse, really; it meant that you understood him just as much as you didn’t; sympathised with him just as much as you struggled. His emotions were clear as day and somehow, still twisted and unintelligible like a tangle of rainclouds in the middle of a stormy night. The history behind his blue eyes was long and confusing and it was unfair to expect you to decipher it when Steve could barely do it himself. He’d lived about a thousand lifetimes in the span of time that most people lived one - so you gave in on understanding, and chose to just love him instead.

It was easier that way, to just take it day by day and unpack his baggage as the super soldier saw fit. Sometimes it was hours and hours of talking; long and late nights, filled with tired eyes and the smell of caffeine. Stolen glances met with soft giggles and recounts of the war, the good times and the bad. Other times, it was more twisted. Deeper and darker. Strangled screams and cries lost to the night, large hands reaching for the gun under his pillow that posed the question of how fucking long has that been there, Steve? 

In time, the good was worth the bad. You must had the patience of a fucking saint, because Steve finally stopped mourning for the past and began to look to the future. You hadn’t made solid plans -- that was foolish in your line of work. Between fighting aliens and robots, you were both blessed to have even made it this far. So, the day by day method worked in that sense too, and any big plans always became maybe. Maybe we’ll have kids one. Maybe we’ll move out of Brooklyn and to the suburbs. Maybe we’ll find a nice house with a picket fence and a garden big enough for Bucky to run around in. 

What you had was beautiful, in the most complicated way. Because Steve Rogers was a perplexing man, but before that, he was kind and funny and sweet. He looked after you and you looked after him. Wrote you letters on long missions and left little notes for everyday that he was away. Sent you the dumbest good morning texts and the sweetest good night ones. For every emotional pitfall that you found yourselves in, Steve would turn up with a rope, even if he’d been the one to dig the hole in the first place. 

It went more than just skin deep, twisting your souls together in some kind of emotional vortex that you wouldn’t have thought to be true had you not witnessed alien invasions and everything that followed. In fact, it was the everything that followed that you pushed you together even more - because it was the blip that had made you and Steve realised fucking important what you had was. 

Those had been desperate moments. Painful, desperate moments. One minute, you’d been watching Wanda Maximoff cry out in pain for her lost love, and then she was gone. So was Bucky. And T’Challa. And Stephen Strange. In mere seconds; so quickly that your brain couldn’t even comprehend what was going on. It was as though somebody had turned your brain off for a few seconds - and when it rebooted, all you could think about was Steve. 

You didn’t remember much from the seconds that followed, other than the burning in your lungs from how impossibly fast you had run, and how soar your throat was from screaming out his name. Then your bodies had collided with a thud, and you’d been met with a solid chest. Warm arms and big hands, that were completely and entirely there and not being dusted away. You’d never clung onto him so tightly, barely able to breath from how hard reality had just hit you. But he held onto you, and kept you standing - a metaphor which would stick to the next five years in the most bittersweet way. 

The first few months were hard. Hard to stomach, hard to accept, hard to mourn. Everyone was floating around one another, still struggling to truly get over the fact that for once, the Avengers hadn’t won. You hadn’t gotten cocky, but after the Chitauri, and after Ultron, you had become hopeful. Nobody could blame you. Hope was all you’d had, really. 

You found a routine. Steve found a reason to live in you, and you’d found an inkling of ambition in him. After a few months in the Compound, you’d gone back to your apartment in Manhattan. You’d never been more grateful to have it -- because when the entire world had changed around you, at least one thing was still the same. You could shut the door and lock it behind you, just existing as you always had in those four walls. The rest of the world didn’t matter, because it just you, and it was Steve, and that was the world. It was your world, and it was his. 

After everything becoming so unpredictable, the stability that his presence brought was everything you needed. It cemented your need for one another - your love for another. 

But unpredictably has a funny way of working, doesn’t it? 

Never in a million years would you have imagined that the thing brought you closer would have been the thing to tear you apart. That restoring the world back to the state you’d longed for would bring an end to the only thing you thought was certain. You’d calculated every outcome of reversing the blip, thought about every way that it was everything you’d ever wanted. Finally, everything you’d lost would come back, and you and Steve could live as you always wanted. In the world you wanted. 

But he wasn’t there. 

One possibility you hadn’t considered was that Steve would have access to the time stone. You were both getting back to the world’s your mourned for, but they weren’t the same. You’d only been mourning the last five years, whilst Steve had been mourning the last seven decades. Somewhere along the long, you’d convinced yourself that the little bubble you’d built for yourselves was enough to cushion that. That your relationship, and your love, was enough compensation for the fact he’d lost everything. 

Because Steve was good with words, but not quite enough to express to you how truly out of time he’d been. You saw the way his eyes glazed over when he spoke of the forties, but you couldn’t feel the pain in his chest when he heard an old record. You couldn’t fathom the suffocation he felt every time he saw pictures of his lost friends, or the weight on his chest that losing Peggy Carter had given him. It had alleviated slightly when he met you, but truthfully speaking, Steve Rogers hadn’t taken a deep breath since the final moments before his plane hit the ice in 1945. 

The pain you felt when you realised that he’d well and truly left you for his old life was minute compared to what he’d been feeling since he woke up all those years ago. It didn’t matter, because pain was pain regardless. His relief didn’t negate your suffering. And, if you’d ever been wondering what you would have felt if you had lost Steve in the blip, you needn’t had looked any further. This was worst than him dying. This was worst than him slipping away with millions of others, because he’d chosen to do it. He’d thought about you, and everything you’d tried to give him, and he’d decided it wasn’t enough. 

You didn’t get it at first. Couldn’t sympathise with his situation - but let’s face it. Who the fuck could? It wasn’t like there was a WikiHow article on how to get over the love of your life time travelling back to the 1940s and leaving you in ruins. For the first time since you’d met Steve all those years ago, you were forced to process all your emotional trauma on your own. To stand on your own two feet without his broad arms supporting you in the way they had on the battlefield in Wakanda. 

It took time. You processed it with time. Drank a lot, cried a lot, screamed a lot. Found solace in your friendships with Bucky and Sam; even if they’d been a little much at first, forcing you to share the payload of your pain with them had helped. At times, it was like going to group therapy with Spongebob and Patrick, but you held them close to your heart. You learnt to find joy and appreciation in other things, and to tune out Steve, and the mention of his name.

That was until March 2021, almost two years to the day that he had left you standing on the lakeside in the Compound. You’d been driving home from work and his name had been mentioned on the radio - Captain America, former war hero and super soldier, has died aged 103. 

It didn’t sting too much. You’d mourned Steve Rogers a long time ago - at least the version of him that you knew.  It made your chest hurt a little that he was truly and completely gone, and that you would never have a chance to talk to him. You’d toyed with the idea of going to visit him in his old age. Part of you wanted to know if he remembered you, even if for him, everything you’d had together had been decades ago. Even though you’d existed together in the future, your life together was cemented entirely in the past the minute you’d went back. Decades had passed before you existed at the same time again, and you wondered if time had been enough for him to forget. Two years for you had been seventy for him. It was thought that had made you shy away from ever talking to him, because you didn’t want to know. You were scared of the answer. 

Maybe that was why you were only seeing him now; on a rainy day, when the man you’d once loved was six feet under and surrounded by a ridiculous headstone you knew he would hate. The air around you was cool, sky tinged grey and a few droplets splashing against the grey stone, making it turn a slightly darker shade. There were no tears; just a deep sigh, and an awkward shuffle as you wriggled your toes in your boots and thought about what the fuck you wanted to say. 

‘Hey, Cap.’ You murmured. ‘Can I call you that? I used to call you babe. No, I don’t know why I said that. That’s fucking weird. Like this whole situation, because somehow, even though I’ve dealt with aliens and gods, saying goodbye to you is one I was never truly prepared for.’ 

Your eyes fell to the floor, and you continued. ‘You suck, Steve Rogers. You really fucking suck. You know that, right? That it’s a dick move to go back to your old life without even leaving a note? Or a text? Heck, I would have been happy if you spelt it out on the fridge in magnets.’ 

‘It’s okay, though.’ You smiled. ‘I’m not mad anymore. Okay, maybe I am a little, but not as I used to be. I understand why you did it, but I also get that I’ll never understand at all. I’ll never get how existing in a time that wasn’t yours felt, or how out of place you must have been in a world seventy years ahead of what you knew.’

‘And I’m sorry, I guess. Sorry that I didn’t try harder, but also sorry that whatever I tried to give you wasn’t enough to make up for what you’d lost.’ You sniffed. ‘This is where you’d tell me to shut up and stop being so hard on myself. So I will, because we’re both at peace now and that’s the most important thing.’

There were a few tears then; not for the man beneath you, but for the man that had left you. When all the anger subsided, you realised that above all, you just missed him. You missed the late night conversations when you couldn’t sleep, and you missed how warm he felt beside you when you did finally drift off. You missed the way he laughed at your driving skills and the way he would eat your side salad because you hated it. You longed to his hear his singing in the shower in the morning, and to squeal at him for pressing his cold feet to your back to wake you up. 

‘Above all, Steve Rogers, I’m just grateful I had you, even for a few years.’ You took a deep breath. ‘The pain I felt when you left was unbearable, but it wasn’t permanent. The memories you gave me, and the love I felt for you? That’s gonna stay with me forever.’ 

You wiped away a few tears, smiling to yourself when the clouds above you cleared slightly. The grey ones that had been lingering all morning had shifted slightly, allowing for the sunlight to peak through and cast a glow over your surroundings. Tiny, dewy raindrops lingered on the grass, enveloping the world around you in the smell of petrichor and relief. You’d never believed in fate, or the afterlife, or messages from the underworld, but that? You hadn’t felt a rush like that the last time you woke up beside him.

‘So, thanks I guess.’ You glanced up at the sky, blinking under the bright sun. ‘And rest easy, Cap.’ 

[jadedxrealityw]

-Never Meant To Be- Draco Malfoy x Female Reader

    ☼-🐍-☼

   Request: What about a angsty fic with Draco where he doesn't want to reveal that he's with a Hufflepuff (even tho she's a pureblood) bc of his image, and she sees him flirting with Pansy and she decides to ignore him until he realizes that she's ignoring him, and he wants to approach but her friend is like "dude u fucked up i have to console her every five seconds" fluffy ending pls!

   Kody: damn, i can’t make Pansy gay in here. Sad pog. I also added some extra odds and ends for plot. I hope you still like it anyhow! Also no voldy moldy action. before i get questions, i am indeed fully aware that Fred, George, and Cedric are older then the rest of them. I just do not care lmao. 

   Year: 7th

   House: Hufflepuff

   Possible Triggers/Warnings: cursing, angst, Draco sadly being character, Cedric being the bestest of friends, eventual fluff

   ☼-🐍-☼

   you had always fantasized about what having a lover was like. Full of love, honesty, and trust. Who knew you would get secrecy and lies instead. You were in a secret relationship with the one and only Draco Malfoy. It had started almost a whole year ago.

   yes. You both were well into graduating soon and still had to sneak around to be together. You might be wondering why right? Draco truly loved you, but he was terrified of his father. Even if you were a pureblood, you weren’t a Slytherin. So if he wanted to keep you, he’d have to hide you. 

   Draco set ground rules so “We don’t disappoint anyone” you wished he had worded that differently. To sum up the short list, no interacting in public or any public displays of affection. Your were his dirty little secret. You would never want to hurt his feelings, because you loved him.

   so you agreed to his rule, but slowly it started to become unbearable. Seeing each other for little amounts each week was painful. Especially how when you were apart, Draco was the same old taunter he always was. You wondered if you made an effect on him at all.

   you were lucky you didn’t have to bare this sorrow alone. Your best friend, Cedric Diggory had found out about your little love affair when he found Draco’s Quidditch jersey in your dorm. You eventually caved and told him and ever since Cedric loathed the Slytherin seeker.

    ☼-🐍-☼

   “I’m starving” Cedric grumbled as he walked alongside you, scratching the back of his neck. He had early quidditch practice and had just came back from the showers to eat breakfast, while you had just woken up and were wearing your pjs still. 

   it was a saturday morning after students had been taking exams all week. So every Hogwarts student was in there pajamas at the moment and no one cared. “Yeah me too. After all the exams i can’t wait to graduate in a week now” you chuckle, reaching up to rub your E/c eyes.

   Cedric nods “Yeah, me and Harry have been talking about moving in together after we graduate” he says, a smile forming on his face. You gasp, nudging his arm with your shoulder “That’s great! i’m happy for you, really” he enjoys your enthusiasm, but his smile fades “What?” you question.

   he looks behind him before answering “What about you and Malfoy. What are your plans?” your expression drops. “Um well, we haven’t really talked about it. He has to work around his parents and all that” Cedric knew that explanation was bullshit. He didn’t believe Draco wanted to keep you around at all. 

   but for the sake of your heart, he sucked it up. Putting a smile he wraps an arm around your shoulders “That’s awesome Y/n. Now onwards, food awaits!” he exclaims. You break out into a fit of laughter before the both of you make your way to the great hall.

    ☼-🐍-☼

   “Cedric!” Harry shouts as soon as both of you walk through the great hall doors. Cedric leads you over to the Gryffindor table and you take a seat next to Luna. On the right side was Cedric, Harry, Hermione, and Ron. On the right side, your side sat George, Luna, then you. 

   “Geez, we’re all wearing our pjs aren’t we?” Hermione pointed out and you all let out a chuckle. “Can you blame us? Exams were such a drag. I’m surprised i didn’t throw myself off the school building” Ron scoffs. “At least they are over now. I have so many naps to catch up on” Luna sighs, leaning on Georges shoulder.

   suddenly, the food appeared on the table and you could hear the chorus of cheers come from students. Everyone started to pile the array of breakfast foods with haste. George managed to snatch the last serving of pudding and put it on Luna’s plate. You wondered if Draco would do that for you.

   you grab some french toast and piled on a hoard of bacon on your plate. “Oh merlin. Draco Stop!” a cackle bursted through the great hall, causing your small group to turn your heads towards the noise. Sat at the Slytherin table was Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy, your boyfriend. Flirting.

   “What? I mean it. Your very pretty” a sharp pain came to your chest. This hasn’t happened before. Draco flirting with Pansy. He had never done this before. Why was he doing this? “Y/n?” Cedric looked up at you and reached across the table to grab your hand.

   Pansy gripped Draco’s bicep, a flirty smile playing on her features. She was beautiful and everything he could ever want. She was enough. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach and pushed up from the bench. “Y/n-” “I have to use the bathroom” you said before Cedric could get a word in.

   you began to walk away and out the great hall. ‘Damnit Draco. Why do you have to be like this?’ you thought as tears started to form in your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. You wipe them quickly and harshly. All you wanted was to be alone. 

    ☼-🐍-☼

   you had spent the whole breakfast crying in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. She cried with you as well. The sound of students flooded the halls and you knew that meant your friends would be looking for you. That also meant Draco would be waiting for you. 

   meeting up with Draco in the astronomy tower had become like second nature, but you didn’t want to seem him. It would hurt to much cause as soon as you would look into those grey eyes the look he gave Pansy would burn into your mind a million times over. 

   you just couldn’t. You get up from the floor, wiping your eyes “Thanks Myrtle. Your nice to talk to” you said. The ghost girl smiles, hovering over the ground “No worries! Now i must tend to my studies!” she exclaims flying into her stall. 

   smiling, you walk out the bathroom and are instantly met with the sight of your friends standing in front of the entrance. George, Luna, Cedric, Harry. “What’re you guys doing out here?” you asked, tilting your head. “We we’re waiting for you so we can hang out” Cedric smiled, his arm around Harry.

   “Hang out? Where? Shouldn’t we change out of our pj's?” you questioned. George shook his head “Nah, i’m taking all of you to my dorm for an unofficial pajama party. Now onwards and upwards” he grabbed Luna’s hand and skipped along with her.

   “Wheres Ron and Hermione by the way?”

   “Said they were busy. So probably making out somewhere”

   “ah okay”

    ☼-🐍-☼

   all of you went into the Gryffindor house and into Georges dorm passing Fred who decided to tag along because he had nothing to do today. As you all settled in George and Luna sat on the bed while Cedric, Harry, Fred, and you took the floor.

   you four sat on pillows and blankets. “Now now. I have an entire stash of sugar quills!” George announced as he pulls out a box out from under his bed. He reaches in and grabs a blue one, blueberry and hands it to Luna “These aren’t tampered with right George?” you asked as he walked over to you.

   “I gave one to Luna. Your safe, for now” He sent you a playful wink making you laugh. Fred grabbed an orange one, Harry a watermelon, and Cedric a Strawberry. George went over to you and you reached in without thinking. You liked all the flavors so why not. You grasp one and pull it out.

   green apple. George goes back over to the bed and unwraps a pineapple flavored sugar quill. Everyone unwrapped there’s as well. You looked at the quill and it reminded you of Draco. Draco, your boyfriend. Your Slytherin boyfriend who flirted with another girl.

   Snap!

   you look down at your hands. You snapped the sweet in half, leaving the middle of it in small crumbles that were leaking out the package. “Woah, what did the sugar quill do to you?” Fred says, reaching over to grab it from your hands. 

   “Flirt with another girl, treat me like i’m some sort of stain on his life, hide me away from everyone even though all i want to do is be with him. All the time!” You sputtered out, your hand going over to your mouth. Awkward silence filled the room. A ant could be heard crawling around if you listened hard enough now.

   “Y/n” Cedric spoke, sympathy was present in his tone. You felt tears welling up in your eyes again “What- What’s going on?” George spoke up, getting off the bed along with Luna. They all sat in front of you now with a look of expectancy. “I have something to tell you guys”

   Cedric shook his head “You don’t have to tell them Y/n” he said “Tell us what? Cedric?” Harry looked at his boyfriend who just gave him a sympathetic smile. You took a deep breath “I had a boyfriend for almost a year now” you said, eyes widening around you. “You what!” The twins said at the same time.

   they both quiet down after Cedric glared at them “It’s Draco Malfoy” you added. A smile forms on Luna’s face “I know” she spoke in her soft voice. George snaps his head in her direction “and you didn’t tell me?!” he exclaimed, her smile staying. “It wasn’t my secret to tell Georgie”

   the Weasley twin just sighed and pressed a kiss to her temple, mumbling something about her always being right. “You’ve been dating Malfoy for almost a year now and kept it a secret because, why?” Harry spoke up. You exhale before answering “He’s scared of what his father would think”

   Fred shook his head “More like his reputation. Wasn’t he all over Parkinson at breakfast. Word spreads at Hogwarts” he scoffs. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. “Y/n you have to start thinking about your future, with out Malfoy” Cedric speaks, rubbing your back with his hand.

   “But-” “-But nothing Y/n. I love you like a sister and i know you love him, but he’s just using you. After graduation he’s going to throw you away because that’s who Draco Malfoy is, a user and a asshole who cares about his reputation more then what’s in front of him” Cedric was fuming with anger.

   Harry wraps his arms around him, his head digging into the Hufflepuffs back. Cedric visibly calms and leans back into Harry “Sorry” he mumbles. Tears streamed down your face as Fred pulls your body next to his, wrapping his arms around you. He presses a firm kiss to your head “It’ll be okay princess”

   will it though?

    ☼-🐍-☼

    you avoided Draco Malfoy all sunday and monday. You had time to think about what you wanted and what Draco wanted. As much as you didn’t want to think about what Cedric had said, your mind did. Maybe he was right. Maybe Draco was using you for all you were worth.

   As Cedric walked the halls with Fred Weasley a certain platinum blond stopped in front of him “Diggory. A word please” he spoke, with slight irritation. “What in the hell do you want Malfoy?” he snapped back. Fred had a small grin on his face.

   Draco looked at Fred and eyed him up and down before looking back at Cedric “Alone” he says. Fred raises his hands up before nudging Cedrics shoulder. Fred walks down the hall, leaving the two alone, per Draco’s request. “Okay speak” the hufflepuff crossed his arms.

   “Wheres Y/n? i haven’t talked to her in three days. Is she okay?” Cedric hated how worried Draco suddenly sounded now after what he did. Cedric let out a bitter laugh “You can drop the act Malfoy. We both know you could care less about Y/n. Don’t you have pug face anyway?”

   Draco suddenly realized what was going on. He sighs and rubs a hand over his face “Shit. Look she was coming onto me, i was just messing around. What right do you have in our relationship anyway?” he said, clearly taking offense to his questioning. Cedric. Fucking. Snapped.

   “Seriously!? Everytime you fuck up i’m there to pick up the fucking pieces! She’s so stupidly in love with you, for some reason that she ignores it and moves on everytime! She broke down in front of me on saturday because of the stupid shit you did!” Cedric was co close to punching him the face.

   he took a couple deep breaths and stepped back while Draco stood frozen “Your not there because you don’t care Malfoy. I never said anything to her before because i wanted her to be happy, but i did on saturday. You will always care about reputation more than Y/n and she knows that now”

   with those parting words Cedric turned on his heels and walked away. Draco blinked mindlessly before walking back as well. 

   ☼-🐍-☼

   Thursday. One day till graduation. You were holding a box full of colored tinsel that needed to be in the great hall so the planning committee could hang it up. You were passing by in a empty hallway “Need any help, love?” you stop mid step, turning to your left.

   “Draco?” you slowly place the box down and look up at him. He seems nervous. He takes a step, arms reaching out for a hug but you step back instead. “Love, what you saw with Pansy i-” “You don’t have to explain Draco, i understand” you nod once. A smile grows on your face.

   “Oh thank merlin. Let’s drop this off and hang out somewhere, yeah?” he asked, but you shake your head “I understand that no matter how much i want to be with you. We’re just to different. Draco, we don’t work” you spoke, about to lean down and pick up the box again when Draco grabs your arms.

   “If Diggory said i don’t love you that’s the farthest from the truth. I am in love with you Y/n L/n, it’s just my father and the public eye on me. Please don’t do this i- i- can’t live without you” Draco was breaking down in front of you and it was a sight to see.

   you held your composure the best you could, practically forcing yourself to not breakdown as well and hug him close to you. Instead you smile lightly and remove his hands from your arms “I don’t doubt you love me, but you should be with somebody your father approves of if his opinion matters that much to you. It’s okay Draco. It was never meant to be. Have a good life”

   you bend down to pick up the box, leaving the Slytherin boy to weep alone. You could hear his quiet sobs behind you and had to bite your lip so you wouldn’t cry out as well. You had done it. You had left Draco Malfoy and in all honesty. You felt as if a part of you had been ripped out.

    ☼-🐍-☼

   friday, graduation day. You and Luna were getting ready. You both had picked dresses to wear under your graduation robes. You chose a short black dress while Luna chose a long white sundress. After finishing up, you both made your way to the great hall.

   Professor Dumbledore and Mcgonagall said there announcements and gave out a few awards. Cedric Diggory got one for quidditch, which you cheered loudly for. After those some students gave speeches. Hermione’s was very sweet and short and you enjoyed it.

   after the clapping died down Mcgonagall stood up “Next student to say a few words is Draco Malfoy” the Slytherins cheered loudly for there headboy while you sunk into your seat. Draco stood up and shrugged off his robes, leaving him in a all black suit and tie. So handsome- wait. Stop Y/n.

   he walked up to the front and gave the crowd a slight smile. Oh yeah, i forgot to mention that parents were aloud to attend the ceremony. No wonder he wanted to speak. He needed to impress his father. Typical. You sigh and prepare yourself for what's to come.

   “Thank you Professor. When i first came to Hogwarts the only thing on my mind was my education, but i made friends along the way and found comfort in people around me like Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott, my best mates.” he points towards the two in the crowd and they stand up momentarily to wave.

   you shake your head. Could this be over already? “Hogwarts has become my second home really. It’ll be hard to leave this place and not return next year to all the places i loved to visit, like the astronomy tower” your heart tugged, you couldn’t do it. Standing up from the table, you walk towards the exit.

   “you might be wondering why that place is my favorite out of all the wondrous parts about Hogwarts. Well, it was where i was most happy because i-” Draco looked at his father, then his mother before continuing. “it’s where i met my love” you stopped walking as collective gasps erupted throughout the hall. 

   you turn slowly and look at Draco “Yes, save your shock. I Draco Malfoy am in love with Y/n L/n and i’m tired of hiding it.” what the hell was he doing? Students whispered to each other and others gave sympathetic stares at Pansy. His father looked furious.

   everyone then looked towards you as Draco stepped away from the front and made his way to you. Oh no “I haven’t been a good boyfriend by hiding you away and Diggory was right. I chose my reputation over you and i shouldn’t have because in the end you were always the one that stuck around”

   a cane stops him from walking and he looks up to see his father glaring at him “Draco, you will stop this nonsense and we will leave at once. You will not tarnish the Malfoy legacy over some feeble Hufflepuff girl” he spat. Draco’s eyes narrowed at his father. He lifts his hand and slips off the Malfoy ring he wore.

   he dropped it on the ground, causing a metallic sound. “Fuck your legacy and your small minded bullshit. Cut me off, i don’t care. Never speak to me again, i. Don’t. Care, but you won’t talk about Y/n that way. Goodbye father” he pushed the cane away and rushed towards you.

   “Draco! Get back here now!” his father shouted. Draco grabs your hand and runs out the great hall with you. You unclip your robe and watch it fly off into it reached the ground. 

   your friends watched you run off. George turned to Fred who had a small smile on his face “You okay Freddie?” he asked, nudging his twins shoulder. “I never had a chance with her did i?” he says, sighing deeply. George purses his lips, shaking his head.

   Cedric sighed deeply, leaning back into his seat “Not bad, Malfoy”

    ☼-🐍-☼

   you both ran out the school. It was raining, not too hard though. Suddenly Draco stops, causing you to do the same “What?” you say, the rain wetting your H/c hair. He pulls you into his chest and uses the other hand to pull you in for a kiss. It’s sweet and passionate, you wished it would last a lifetime.

   as you pull away you see his platinum blond hair flatten, raindrops cascading down his face “I’ll never betray you again Y/n. If you’ll be mine again. We’ll move in together and make a legacy of our own. I promise” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. 

   “That’s all i ever wanted” and with that, you both kiss again. 

    ☼-🐍-☼

   Kody- served hot and fresh with extra extra cheese for all you fluff lovers. Anyways, peace.

[pagesandmagic]

folklore || this is me trying

description: she left the outer banks two years ago and now she’s coming back for the summer. they haven’t seen each other since she skipped town without telling him. they’ve both hurt each other, so how do they come back from heartbreak?

warnings: swearing, angst, S L O W B U R N.

series based on songs from the album ‘folklore’ by taylor swift.

author’s note: hiiii sorry i’ve been gone for a HOT second. life has been busy and inspiration has not hit me lately, but here we are and i’m excited about where this is going. pls let me know if you would like to be a part of the taglist! 

Part One (the 1) | Part Three (mad woman)

her.

growing up, your favorite story was Peter Pan. 

the boy from Neverland stole your heart quickly and you dreamt of a place where you would never have to get old. the adults in your life always seemed stiff and unlikeable. they complained about being invited and not being invited to parties. it seemed like they were confused about what they wanted.

being raised in figure eight meant too many fancy parties with stuffy adults and pretentious kids. through most of high school, you would show up at the beginning, but sneak out half way through to spend the night surfing with JJ. he had always been your escape from the uptight life that your parents made you live. they had dreams for you to go to college or marry into money, maybe both if it worked out for them. but that wasn’t what you had wanted. 

college wasn’t your scene, you couldn’t imagine spending another four years learning about places and cultures, instead of actually experiencing them. you quickly wrote college off your list when you picked up a camera for the first time. at first, you was mediocre, at best, but eventually people were paying you hundreds of dollars to shoot their weddings in your first year. your senior year of high school, you created a name for yourself and through the power of social media, you was noticed by a multi-million dollar wedding company who offered you the internship of your dreams. 

your parents didn’t approve of the offer, but at eighteen, you knew you wanted this and they couldn’t stop you. you packed up your entire life into her little Subaru and left. 

this internship was the gateway out of the outer banks, away from kook life, away from the heartbreak, towards a new life. a fresh start. 

he would have asked you to stay, but it wasn’t that easy. JJ brought a love you had never known into your life, but he also brought a heartbreak you had never felt before. 

you had an hour left in your drive and as your stomach turned, you had to remind yourself that it was your choice to come back for the summer. JJ was a part of the package deal of returning. you pulled over to the side of the winding country road. in one swift motion the car door opened and you found yourself hurling out onto the dirt road. 

“I’m trying, I’m trying, I’m trying,” tears were streaming down your face as the anxiety washed over your body. there was a certain desperation in your voice that scared you. knowing that if you were near the side of the road, maybe your car would get just a little too close and you’d go tumbling down, never having to deal with what was to come. 

“fuck,” you slammed the door shut, breathing in through your nose and out your mouth, watching your breathing and gripping the steering wheel like it was a lifeline. as your breathing slowed, you shifted gears and the wheels of your car found the road again.

the love you had for him was still there and it scared you more than anything in your life. and here you were, driving straight into the storm that was JJ Maybank. 

JJ.

JJ felt like he was floating as he rushed around the chateau, to clean up the mess his friends made the previous night. so many things have changed, he thought, three years ago, there’s no way in hell I’d be doing this. which was true. when she left, his entire mindset shifted. she was the one person he thought he would have forever, and with the rest of his friends out of the outer banks during the school year, he had to grow up. 

john b left him the chateau during the school year. free rent in order to keep up the house? sold. he made the house his home. completely renovating the little shack on the water. it was the first time in his life he was fully responsible for something big, and he wasn’t going to fuck it up. so he kept to himself, fixed up the chateau, praying every day that it would pay off. praying that she would come back to him.

he knocked on john b’s door. 

“come on, man,” he yelled, “you gotta get up and clean, she’s going to be here in like an hour.” 

he could hear both john b and sarah groan and shuffle around the room. sarah opened the door, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “J, you need to chill out.” she said, making her way to the kitchen. 

john b was still in bed, his mouth hanging open, trying desperately to succumb to sleep again, “dude,” JJ threw a shirt at his face, “get up.”

“why does everything have to be perfect, JJ?” his voice hissed and was raspy from the early morning wakening, “it’s not like you guys left on the greatest terms, so what does it matter?”

JJ shut the door muttering a “fuck you” as he walked to the kitchen and threw the beer cans into the garbage which made an audible clang. sarah jumped as she closed the cabinet door. “JJ, chill,” she poured herself a cup of coffee as he paced around the house. 

“sarah, if your asshole of a boyfriend does anythin-”

“he’s not going to do anything, JJ” she leaned against the countertop, her face almost buried in her morning coffee, “he loves Fin as much as the rest of us. she left on a high note with us, but on a bad one with you, so i get why you’re freaking out.” she paused, thinking of the best words to say, “but you can’t let her see that. she doesn’t need to have that power over you. you’ll talk it through with her this summer. i’ll make sure of it.” she touched his shoulder as she made her way back to the bedroom. 

he collapsed onto the chair in the living room. closing his eyes and placing his head in his hands. “i’m trying. i’m trying so hard.” 

she was coming back. this was what he had been waiting for since she left two years ago. he wanted more than anything to prove that he had changed and wasn’t the same boy she left. 

her.

you wiped your hands on the side of your shorts as you pulled into the driveway of the chateau. you could feel tears pricking in the back of your eyes, and blinked in hopes of pushing them down. you put your car in park and turned off the engine. “it’s now or never, get out of the damn car.” you whispered to yourself through your teeth. 

the front door of the shack opened and john b was the first to emerge the little house. you stepped out of the car just in time for him to wrap his arms around your waist and lift you off the ground. it always shocked you every time he was able to take your feet off the ground. in no way were you as physically small as sarah and kie, your curves were prominent and there were times you couldn’t shop at the same store as the other two girls, but john b always made you feel just as beautiful. he smelt of a mixture sea salt and tea tree shampoo. it felt like home. 

“i missed you, Finny,” he smiled against your neck, it felt right that john b was the first one to hug you. he was the one who had been there for you the longest, and even though you didn’t want to admit it (because he was a real dumbass sometimes) his friendship meant the most to you. 

“i missed you, too, JB,” you said, as he broke the hug to kiss your cheek. 

sarah let out an audible squeak as she wrapped her arms around your neck. “it’s been too long!”  you both rocked back and forth. until sarah let go, knowing you had a lot of people to hug. 

pope and kie were next, it only seemed fitting that they both went in for a hug at the same time, forming a little circle. when pope left the hug, you grabbed kie to hold a little longer, whispering, “where is JJ?” kie could feel your hands shake slightly, clearly nervous to see the blonde boy. 

you could feel her playing with the hair on your back, “i’m not sure, Fin. he’s around here somewhere. i think he’s just as nervous as you, if not more,” she placed her arms on your shoulders, separating the hug. “he loves you a lot,” she whispered for only you to hear.

“well, he had a pretty terrible way of showing it,” you sniffed, feeling tears streaming down your face. the entire scene was so overwhelming. 

you had missed the sound of the waves crashing against the shore and watching the HMS pogue sway with the waves. you missed the salty air and the humidity that summer brought. you missed the sight of the chateau, while more fixed up now, just a little shack on the beach. you had missed this little family of yours. 

“so,” john b clapped his hands together. “dinner?” everyone agreed in unison knowing the pizza that was awaiting them inside. kie and sarah wrapped their arms around your shoulders as everyone walked up the steps of the chateau. 

it felt like a little piece of your heart was getting put back together. your friends were more of your family than your actual family ever had been. you breathed a small sigh of relief knowing the one person who you didn’t want to see wasn’t inside. whether you liked it or not, he would be around the next three months. 

stepping inside you could see the amount of work that had been put into the home since you had last left. there were new coats of paint, new pieces of furniture, and there was a wall of pictures hanging up of the six friends in the different seasons of their lives. even the photos you had sent of your adventures in colorado were up there. you felt your stomach drop with the thought that your friends never actually forgot about you. instead, they were always supporting you from afar. tears pricked at your eyes. it was like coming home. 

your eye caught a particular picture. it opened up an old wound you had spent so many years pushing down. it was you and JJ the summer before you left at the beach. his sandy blond hair pooling over your face as he looked down at you. it was a particularly warm day and instead of spending the day on the hms pogue, the gang had ventured out to the actual beach. it was one of your favorite days with JJ. you remember it being a day of snow cones and sandy butt cheeks and hitting a volleyball around the beach. it was like everyone agreed to fill an entire day with all of the summer adventures. it was a dream. until it wasn’t. 

JJ. 

he stood in the driveway of the chateau two hours after she arrived. 

while the outer banks always had an ungodly amount of humidity, his hands were sweating more than usual. he chewed his bottom lip, unsure of where to go or what to do next. did he wait for her to come out? should he just walk through the door? it was technically his home and she was just visiting. no, it was definitely her home once too. 

he ran his fingers through his hair, he knew he needed to see her. it had been two years since he had spoken to his best friend. but she was within walking distance. he could yell her name like all those nights after she left, but this time, she would hear him. he could run to her and wrap his arms around her waist and feel her warmth, her curves, her beauty and never let go. he could hear her laugh and listen to the stories of the adventures she’s been on, see the pictures she had taken. he wanted nothing more than to kiss her lips, and feel her love again. 

the outer banks wasn’t big. so the entire town had known what he had done when she left. it was clear that she was running from him, but he didn’t blame her for any of it. if he was in her situation, he would run too. 

he started to walk to the door, his legs felt like jelly, but it had been some time since she got there and he hoped she would be distracted by the others that he could just slip inside and listen to her talk from his bedroom. 

the first thing he saw was her walk down the stairs, she was barefoot and her skin a golden brown. her t-shirt came down past past her hips and he was unsure if she was wearing any shorts underneath. it was by far his favorite thing she wore when they were dating. her hair had grew and was now far past her shoulders and cascaded down the front of her chest. 

as his eyes came up, he locked eyes with the girl he loved since he was ten. and then his entire body went cold. 

[atknz]

* miguel bernardeau , cismale + he/him | you know santiago atkins, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, two months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to i wanna get better by bleachers like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole   (   golden cross necklace squeezed between his fingers to suppress anger, a worn out book of mormon hidden beneath his nightstand, a tired smile    &    weary laugh echoed down the halls  )    thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is JUNE 25TH    so they’re a cancer, which is unsurprising, all things considered.

                       tw for .    religion, religious trauma, repressed gay ness, suicide 

TLDR: dumb but kind jesus lover who doesn’t know being bisexual exists.  IF YOU WANT TO SIMPLY SKIP TO CONNECTIONS AND PERSONALITY, FEEL FREE TO DO SO!!

insp.  jason from bare: a pop opera, shelby from the wilds.

santiago was born to marina ruiz in 1996.  a low-income waitress from madrid, spain. his father is unknown. one day, when marina was at work, she served a group of young men who described themselves as members of the church of latter day saints (mormons), they were american men sent to madrid to carry out their mission of bringing as many people as possible to jesus christ. they were nice, tipped well, and invited her to church.   feeling down on herself, marina figured there was no harm in doing so and her life was completely changed when she became a full fledge member of the LDS church.  santiago, two at the time, had no choice but to follow in her footsteps.    

life for the two wasn’t bad afterward. marina met a man, Beck Atkins, who quickly became a father figure for santiago. the two fell in love, got married merely five months into their relationship, popped out about four more kids (in which she legally changed santiago’s last name to atkins so that it wouldn’t be obvious he was from a different relationship) and, when santiago turned seventeen, the family of seven set their sights on SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH - beck’s hometown.

santiago was in utah for a year before starting his very own mission. he branded a name tag that said ELDER ATKINS, suited up and was shipped to north carolina with a companion, elder brett, as the two went door-to-door in an attempt to save the lives of residence in NC and bring them closer to jesus christ.  between all of the door slams, threats to get off the lawn, and being made fun of, the two always wore a smile and shared a laugh. as thick as thieves is how people would describe santiago and elder brett - which is known to happen when you’re with each other 24/7 and sharing bunk beds.

                            “ one thing led to another and soon i would discover:                               i was having really strange feelings for steve (elder brett) ”

hi if u guessed that bi-repressed santiago would soon fall head over heels for his companion, you’re abso-fucking-lutely right.  however it wasn’t unrequited, the kiss behind the church van four months into their mission taught him that, but santiago was a coward. as much as elder brett was prepared to stand before the church and declare his love - santiago was certain it was a phase, he’s liked girls before, he’s just confused. besides, the scripture, he thought, was very, very  clear.   so they hid it for another year and eight months.

SUICIDE TRIGGER WARNING:        long story short: in a para i’ll get into some day, elder brett had had enough of the secrets, the lying to his family and lying to himself about who he was, at the end of their mission he told santiago he wanted to come out - with or without him - and santiago freaked. he knew it wouldn’t take long for the church to put two-and-two together, and had some extremely harsh words to say to his boyfriend about the decision. about how he was only bored, there were no girls on the trip, he didn’t actually love him, no one could actually love him.     but santiago didn’t know that elder brett was dealing with other demons and, essentially, that came as a last straw for the him. he just remembers a stream of tears pouring from his eyes on his way back to salt lake, the crush of a hug from his mother and father as they apologized for what happened to his friend.    ( in which his dad so lovingly added that elder brett may not make it to the celestial kingdom after ruining god’s plan by ending his life too soon.  )      END TRIGGER WARNING

he stayed at home for a few more years, until remembering a place in NC called irving that he and elder brett felt was quaint and cute, deciding to move there officially in late may. 

BRIEF PERSONALITY  AND  HEAD CANONS.

kind, almost to a fault. he truly is full of love, light, and care. he’s constantly wearing a smile on his face, loves to give hugs and advice and wants the best for everyone.  HE WILL GIVE YOU A HUG UNANNOUNCED

kind of an idiot who is shit at context clues, always finds it strange when people are mean. has never touched a drop of alcohol and doesn’t swear. catch him saying “frick” religiously

jesus christ is his best friend.

has a dark side with an insane amount of anger issues ever since he was a kid. it’s one of the reasons his mother thought the church worked so well because they taught him how to suppress that emotion and... smile instead of feeling it.     which obviously isn’t good, as he could have a tendency to black out and realize he’d completely smashed his tv to bits or punched a hole in the wall.

he’s not 100% sure of his sexuality. he knows he’s into guys so he basically decided that must mean he’s gay but is extremely confused because he also finds himself having crushes on women.  someone sit him down and tell him that bisexuality / pansexuality exists bc he’s HARMED

                                      CONNECTIONS 

he was on his mission in / around irving two years ago ,  2019 - knocking on every door and asking if he and his companion can share the story of jesus christ with them... so pls give me a connect of someone who either entertained the idea, slammed the door in his face or threatened him to get off their lawn.

bad influence. he never touched a drop of alcohol, doesn’t cuss, doesn’t even drink coffee. pls he’s so boring

bible study friends lmao

A FRIEND WHO HE CLUNG TO!! their personality doesn’t matter but it’d be hella cute if they were usually irritated by santiago and he had no idea. he’s like haha ur so funny when ur mean i love u <3

BASICALLY ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING 

TBA IM SO TIRED