#clapping n cheering n encouraging me as I do my little dance n sing my nasty little songs

[bitchdafuqyousay]

every day I get online. n I send my friends the most. Disgusting. Foul. Out of Pocket n Unhinged messages possible. n they all love 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 

. 

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. 

.

.

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. 

[writing-wh0re]

I can have one where Peter is a fuck boy and unknowingly slept with Y/N (stark) and they meet at the tower on a group meeting day. (and he in front of the avengers pretends to be innocent). Love you

All writing will be #writing-wh0re-requests.

Peter Park x Female Reader - Tony Stark's Daughter.

Words: 3,625 - longest I've ever written.

Warnings: Smut18+, Vaginal intercourse, Male and Female Performing Oral, Praise Kink, Unprotected Sex, Fuckboy Peter Parker, Angst.

A/n: I hope you enjoy this, I took three hours to write and edit this. I got a little carried away with it (I think) and I apologise for it being sooo long.

So far your senior year had been amazing, you were destined to finish top of your class which would make your dad happy and you had also been offered an internship with him, which some of your classmates thought was bullshit but hey, considering you didn’t want to go to some flashy expensive school, you were doing pretty good, even with your dad’s help.

That was until you went out to your first party with your best friend Macie, she thought it was about time you let loose and have fun. You didn’t want to go and had even told your mum and dad who only encouraged you to go out, so that plan backfired. So here you were, standing in Macie’s living room, red solo cup in your hand while dancing with your best friend, happy to have listened to her for once and let loose.

“How do you know this many people?”

Macie shakes her head “I don't know them, they’re Tyler’s friends from his school.” I nod in agreement, looking around the room for Tyler, Macie's boyfriend who is chatting with a guy I’ve never seen before. His brown slightly curly hair, puppy dog eyes and a smile that causes butterflies inside of my stomach. Macie grabs my shoulder, following my line of sight before laughing and shaking her head.

“Peter Parker.”

“Peter Parker” I repeat his name, loving the way it sounds as it falls from my lips. “He’s fucking hot.”

Macie laughs at me before nodding. “Yeah he’s alright, he goes to school with Tyler. He’s a bit of a ladies man but I don’t know too much about him.”

“He’s into science and technology?” I almost feel bad for questioning the boy's intelligence, judging him solely on his handsome appearance.

“Yeah, Tyler, Peter and a guy called Ned won their last science fair two weeks ago.” Macie informs. “Let's go say hi.” Macie grabs my arm pulling me through the body’s of unknown teenagers before we come face to face with Peter and Tyler.

“Hey babe, we were just talking about you.” Tyler pulls Macie into his side, kissing the side of her head.

My eyes fall to Peter, both of us smiling at each other. I feel my skin fall hot slightly as his eyes wander over my body. I mentally thank myself for wearing my red leather shirt and lace crop top.

“I’m Peter.”

“Y/n.” I smile before hearing someone clear their throat. Turning my attention to Macie, a cocky smirk on her face.

“Tyler and I want to play beer pong, want to join?”

“You’d have to be partners though.” Tyler quickly adds, before walking away with Macie to the table to set the game up, not even waiting for a response.

I look to my side slightly silently asking Peter if he’d like to join.

“I need words Y/n.” I take in a sharp breath at what Peter just said to me.

“Uh, would you, um like to be my partner for beer pong?” Peter licks his lips before smirking at me.

“Of course.” His hand falls to the middle of my back as he guides me to the table Tyler and Macie had just set up. Macie raises her eyebrow at me, causing me to blush and shake my head, knowing exactly what she is thinking.

“Okay so standard rules, but we haven’t decided what the winner gets yet.” Tyler states.

I watch Macie stand on her tippy toes whispering something into Tylers ear causing him to chuckle.

“Okay, the winner has to make out with their team member.”

I sigh at my best friend before nodding.

“Fine, okay.”

“Sound a little more excited.” Peter whispers, flicking his eyes from mine to my lips. I roll my eyes, ignoring his comment as Macie flips a coin.

“Heads.” I call quickly, watching Macie reveal the coin, heads being the winner.

Tyler throws Peter the ball, catching it perfectly in one swift motion.

“Fuck.” I whisper to myself, seeing him smirk slightly. He surely didn’t hear me, did he?

I stand beside Peter as he lines up the first shot, landing the ball into the cup causing Tyler to groan.

“Lucky shot.” Macie mumbles before lining up to take her shot, missing the cup as I pout.

“Awh Mace.” Macie narrows her eyes at me before flipping me off.

I grab the ball, lining up the shot, before I can let go of the ball, Peter’s hand falls to my elbow, his other placed in the middle on my back.

“Lower, otherwise you’ll miss and we want to win.” His warm breath fans my neck causing my heartbeat to pick up. I let the ball slip through my fingertips, missing the cup I was originally planning on but landing the ball in the one behind.

“That’s unfair.” Macie complains before drinking from the cup.

The game continues with us losing our lead, until the last cup for both teams. I take a deep breath, knowing it's my go and praying that I won’t miss this shot.

“Breathe, lower your arm, line it up and sink it.” Peter whispers, his lips against my ear, his hands placed on my hips. I follow his instructions, taking a breath, lowering my arm and letting go of the ball. The room feels like it slows down as the ball bounces on the table, landing into the cup.

“Good girl.”

An uncontrollable whimper leaves my lips which causes his grip on my hips to tighten, feeling my arousal pool in my panties.

“Holy shit, you won!” Macie cheers, clapping her hands as Tyler follows suit.

I don’t get a chance to respond to Macie as my body is spun around, my chest bumping into Peter’s. One of his hands cupping my cheek, the other still on my hip, his lips locking onto mine. I feel my body relax against his lips, putting my arms around his neck deepening our kiss.

Peter smiles against my lips, everyone around us whooping and hollering at our interaction. We pull away from each other, before he leans back in, quickly pecking my lips.

*Optional but I listened to this song while writing this next part*

“I love this song, Y/n come dance.” Macie almost squeals, grabbing my arm and pulling me from Peter’s embrace. “Was that as good as it looked?”

“God yes.”

Macie smiles at me before mouthing the words ‘she got that rich girl la vibe.’ gesturing to me as I flip my hair over my shoulder, laughing at my best friend. Macies hands fall to my hips, swaying to the beat with me, I place my arms around her neck singing the words with her.

Macie goes wide eyed slightly before letting go of my hips, I raise my eyebrow about to protest her actions before feeling a familiar grip. I tilt my head back, resting on his shoulder grinding my ass against his crotch, his grip tightening on my hips.

“Behave.”

I roll my eyes, spinning around in his embrace, without a second thought I lean forward, kissing up his neck before softly biting his earlobe.

“Make me.” I dont have a second to think before I’m being pulled behind Peter, a smug smile on my face. He drags me through the crowd, banging on the bathroom door before pulling me through the door with him.

His lips are instantly on mine, my back against the door, his fingertips running up and down my sides. I grab his wandering hand, placing it on my boob causing him to groan softly. I bite his bottom lip, pulling back as our eyes lock together. His lips fall to my neck, kissing and biting the skin.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

His compliment causes a shiver to run down my spine, my fingers running through his hair, pulling on his curly locks earning a moan from his lips. The warmth of his body leaves mine, grabbing my hips and picking me up, I softly squeal, shocked how easily he lifted me. Peter places me on the bathroom counter, tugging on top as I pull the flimsy lace fabric from my body, his lips instantly kissing my boobs, swiping his tongue across my nipple.

“Fuck.” I hiss, watching Peter pull my nipple between his teeth. Peter kisses down my body, pulling my skirt up letting it sit around my waist.

“You’re dripping for me.” Peter presses against my clit through the fabric of my g-string. I slowly rock my hips up, attempting to get some friction.

“Needy little girl.”

I whimper at his words, feeling myself become wetter by the second. A gasp falls from my lips as Peter pulls my panties to the side, blowing on my glistening heat.

“Please.” I beg, causing Peter to chuckle. He trails feather light kisses up my thighs before licking a stripe from my core to my clit. On instinct my fingers tangle in his hair, my head falling back against the mirror, mouth agape as moans and gasps fall from my lips like water.

“Yes, fuck.”

Peter slides a finger inside of me, causing my pussy to clench around the contact. His lips cover my clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves earning a hiss from me. Peter adds another finger, pumping in and out of my pussy, my hand slaps across my mouth, muffling my cries of pleasure. Peter looks up at me, using his free hand to pull my elbow.

“Let me hear you.”

I flutter my eyes closed, Peter’s lips on my thigh, sucking and biting the skin, his fingers still buried deep inside of me.

“I’m close.”

The second the words escape me, I regret them. Peter pulls away from me, standing to undress himself. Without a second thought I fall to my knees, looking up at him through my lashes.

“Naughty girl.”

My hands fall to his pants, unbuttoning his jeans before hurriedly unzipping them. I palm his cock through his underwear, a breathless moan escaping from his lips. I tug at the fabric, having his help to pull it off. His dick springs free, my breath hitching at the size of him.

I take him in my hand, pumping up and down slowly, swirling my tongue around the head. Peter bites his lip, his fingers brushing through my hair, his eyes focusing on my every move. I lick from the base to the tip before taking him fully in my mouth, bobbing my head up and down. The sounds Peter makes cause my pussy to ache, his fingers pull on my hair, helping to guide my mouth. I gag around him as he hits the back of my throat, an unholy sound falling from his lips at the contact.

Peter pulls my mouth off him, pulling me up by my arms, placing me on the counter again. I grab his cock, running it up and down my slit, causing Peter to chuckle.

“Someone’s eager.” I simply answer him by positioning his cock at my entrance, hooking my legs around his waist to pull him into me.

I moan at the feeling of him inside of me, his eyes flutter closed at the contact, moaning at the sensation.

“You feel so good.” I smirk at him, watching his eyes flick to where our bodies meet, his thumb brushing against my clit.

I pull Peter closer to me, locking our lips together as he slides in and out of me, deeper with each thrust, causing my body to tingle, the speed of his thumb picking up before slowing right back down.

I pull away from our kiss, trailing kisses down his jaw, running my tongue down his neck, sucking and biting the skin. Peter grips my ass at the contact of my lips, spanking me hard as I rack my nails down his back.

“Just like that Peter.” I whisper in his ear, softly biting his earlobe as he groans.

“Fucking so good.”

I feel the band inside of me tighten, my pussy tightening around his cock.

“Cum for me, come on baby.” My eyes roll back, shocks of electricity flowing through me, holding onto Peter tight. Peter moans against my shoulder, biting the skin before finding his own release.

Before he pulls out, Peter kisses me, holding my face in his hands.

“You’re incredible.” Blush heats up my cheeks as he pulls out of me, hissing at the loss of contact. Peter and I both get dressed quickly, walking back out to the party, moving through the crowd to find Macie and Tyler.

I lock eyes with Macie as her mouth falls open, quickly rushing over to me and pulling me away from Peter.

“You had sex.”

“Shh, don’t tell the whole party.”

Macie rolls her eyes, moving my hair over my shoulder before wincing.

“Have fun explaining that one to your dad.”

I go wide eyed slightly, turning to the hallway mirror and seeing three hickies on my neck.

“Fucking hell.”

Macie chuckles at my expense, pulling me with her to go back to Peter and Tyler. I frown my brows, Tyler now by himself.

“Uh, where did Peter go?” I question as Tyler shrugs. I quickly look around the living room, my eyes landing on Peter watching him slip out the front door without a word.

“Did he just leave?” Macie asks almost dumb founded.

“Guess so.”

“Don’t beat yourself up Y/n, just be lucky you didn’t sleep with Peter, he’s a bit of a fuckboy to be honest.” Tyler chuckles as I feel my body fall cold. Tyler looks between myself and Macie, choking on his drink slightly. “You fucked him.”

“I’m going to head home.” I mumble, Macie quickly pulling me into a hug, walking me to her front door, the same one Peter had just ducked out of.

“You can stay.”

“It’s fine Macie, I want to shower and sleep in my own bed.” Macie smiles weakly at me, pulling me into another embrace. “I’ll text you.”

Macie nods in response as I pull my phone out, calling Happy to pick me up.

--

The next morning I wake up feeling rough, hating that I mixed different alcohol’s and feeling off about having slept with a complete stranger, knowing how unlike me that is.

“Good morning Y/n, your dad would like to see you in the kitchen.” Friday’s voice bounces off my bedroom walls. I groan at the announcement, grabbing a scrunchie to throw my hair up in a messy ponytail. I quickly look over my outfit, sweatpants and a stark industries crop jumper, good enough. I grab a pair of socks before walking out onto the cold tiles.

“Friday summoned me.” I announce walking into the kitchen, seeing my dad and the avengers sitting around the table. “Oh awesome.” I whisper.

“And what time did you get home?”

“Eleven, maybe.”

I open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and sitting on the bench, facing everyone.

“How was the party? You’ll have to tell us everything.” Wanda smiles as I nod.

“Y/n Stark, what is that on your neck?” My dad bellows, standing up and tilting my head, looking at the hickies on my neck.

“Nothing.” I push my dad away as everyone at the table snickers.

“You did tell her to go out and party.” Steve states causing my dad to turn and point at the super soldier.

“Stay out of this Rogers.”

“She’s young Tony, let her enjoy her last few weeks of school.” Nat pipes up causing my dad to tut and sit back down.

‘Thank you.’ I mouth to Steve and Nat as they both smile and nod at me.

“So why do you look like you’re having a meeting?”

“We are welcoming a new member to the avengers.” My dad states, sipping his coffee.

“Right, so why did you want me here for that?”

“Because you haven’t met him yet and you’re both going to be interning for me in a few weeks, thought it might be good to be acquainted.” I nod in response to my dad, taking a sip of my water.

“They’re all waiting for you.” I hear Happy’s voice say as he walks into the room, all of the avengers stand and look behind me, I turn and look over my shoulder, feeling my heart beat pick up, my mouth falling dry.

“Peter.” His name falls from my lips in shock.

Peter’s eyes lock onto me as he swallows harshly.

“Peter, buddy, welcome.” My dad greets him like an old friend, his eyes moving from mine to my dads.

I feel a hand grip my forearm, a gasp pulling me out of my thoughts, I quickly pull out of the grip.

“Get out of my head Wanda.”

“He did this.” Wanda whispers gesturing to my neck, Nat and Steve both looking at me. I hold my finger to my lips, pleading with my eyes.

“How much did you see?” Nat whispers to Wanda. I don’t hear Wanda’s response as my dad calls me over to him. I quickly slip off the bench, Nat with a small smirk on her face. I sigh softly knowing they know.

“You called.”

“Peter Parker, this is my daughter Y/N Stark, she will be interning with you and is typically on our communications for missions.” My dad states as Peter puts out his hand for a headshake, I scoff before accepting his gesture.

“So what’s your ability?”

“He’s Spiderman, isn’t it great to finally put a face to the suit.” My mum says, standing next to Happy. Instantly, everything from last night makes sense, the smirk he had when I whispered, the soft touches, leaving the party abruptly. It all makes sense, he knew what he was doing. He could read me like a fucking book.

“Y/n is very fond of you, she studied your web abilities.” My dad states, causing me to run my hand down my face.

“Ah, well, maybe you should show me what you learnt and I could fill in any blanks.” Peter states, causing my dad to hum in approval.

“Why don’t you do that now while I get paperwork ready for you to sign.” My dad smiles. I feel a hand cup my shoulder, looking to the right and seeing Steve.

“Steve Rogers.”

Peter grabs his outstretched hand, wincing slightly at the grip Steve gives. I slightly elbow the super soldier, knowing Wanda told him what she saw.

“Maybe Banner should go with them, do you want a teenage boy to be left alone with your teenage daughter?” Steve asks, my dad sighs before chuckling.

“Clearly she was with a teenage boy last night, I’m sure Peter here is harmless compared to last night's company.”

I hear Nat and Wanda giggle before passing it off as something else.

“Go.” My dad instructs, I sigh, turning away from him and leading the way to the lab.

The walk to the lab is silent, only my dad’s voice bouncing off the walls asking the group why they’re being weird.

I walk over to my desk, grabbing the file on ‘Web Slinger’ and handing it to Peter.

“Take it.”

Peter’s hand brushes against mine before he grabs the file, sitting in the chair beside mine.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

I scoff, shaking my head. “Oh yeah because you gave me time to tell you.”

Peter sighs, putting the file on my desk before pulling my chair closer to him.

“Could have told me beforehand.”

“It didn’t seem to matter, how was I supposed to know who you were?”

Peter stays quiet, his eyes looking everywhere but mine.

“Not like you stayed afterwards for us to actually have a conversation.”

“I had shit to do, people to save.” Peter states, now looking at me dead in the eyes.

“Fine, I get that but couldn’t you give me your number or some way of contacting you?”

Peter once again stays quiet.

“Did you tell them? Because Captain America seems to be protective.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “No, I didn’t tell them. Wanda Maximoff read my mind, guess she told him.” Peter sighs before I continue, “Look, we can just forget it, okay? You’re a part of their team now and we’re just going to have to move on.”

Peter’s hand falls to my knee, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of my sweatpants.

“What if we don’t move on? What if we start something?”

“Peter, I don’t want you to feel you have to start something because I’m your boss's daughter, if you want to forget it ever happened we can.”

Peter tuts, moving his hand from my knee to my face.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I meant what I said last night, you’re incredible” My heartbeat picks up, butterflies erupting inside of me causing Peter to smirk. “I have an effect on you.”

“Cocky arent you.”

Peter smirks smugly, before brushing his lips against mine.

“If you don’t want to try this, stop me.” Peter hesitates for a few seconds before I close the gap between us, kissing him. Peter’s hands move under my thighs, picking me up from the chair and placing me on my desk.

“Peter Parker!” Peter jumps away from me at the shouting of my dad’s voice. “You two have some explaining to do.”

Peter scratches the back of his neck, looking at me as I shrug lightly.

“Maximoff told me, I should have listened to Rogers, but don't tell him I said that.” My dad walks over to us, grabbing the chair Peter once sat in. “I’m listening.”

Peter takes a deep breath before explaining it all to my dad, leaving out a few details as I but in to fill any holes.

| | |

Everything Taglist:

@andreaareynoso

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@hufflepuff5972

@black-like-my-soul

@gaycatlord-stuff

@mathletemadison

@horrorxweasley

@marrymetheonott

@maybesandohnos

@cigarett3saftersex

@edwardcullenswifee

@mypainistemporary

@miraclesoflove

@onlyfreds

@dlmmdl

@4kweasley

@aayaissaa

@justfangirlthingies

@afraid-to-be-me

@freddieweasleyyy

@roonilwazlibswhore

@thenaivegirly

@anonreaderasf

@floweasley

@i-love-scott-mccall

@isabellaweasley

@midgardianweasley

@teehopper

@6r4cie

@missryerye

@tomhollandsslut

@thehumanistsdiary

@black-rose-29

Add yourself!

[pretend-writer]

Teenagers: Part 2 (Hargreeves x sibling!reader)

Summary: Y/N tries to convince her siblings to sneak out of the mansion and go out to party with her for the night.

Pairing: Hargreeves x sibling!reader

Title Reference: Teenagers x My Chemical Romance

Word Count: 2.3k words

Warning: swearing, mention of drugs and alcohol, partying/clubbing, mention of sex

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

'So where are these so-called friends that you have, Y/N?' Five asked impatiently, bothering me for the last five minutes.

'Shut up, they're coming. We just got here like two minutes ago.'

Allison smiled, 'Someone is eager to go in.'

Five glared at her, shaking his head. 'Ha, you're funny. I'm just tired of wai-'

'They're here!' I waved at my friends and ran to them, hugging them and greeting them. Getting the wristbands that they've promised me, I got back to my family and gave them one of each.

'How's Five going to get in?' Luther asked, but by the time we looked over at our not so younger brother, he was gone.

Assuming Five just zapped himself into the club, we lined up and got ourselves into the building.

Smiles formed on everyone's face, making me smile even more. I was happy that everyone was excited, my siblings deserved happiness and more.

Klaus clapped, 'I'm starting to sober up and that's a big fat no. Drinks on me, who wants some?'

Ben and Klaus went to the back towards the bar, buying everyone rounds of drinks to bring back. While the rest of us stayed, still no sign of Five, I looked at them and smiled.

'What's with the goofy smile?' Diego asked, I rolled my eyes and hit him. 'What? You're really happy tonight.'

'Of course I am, dummy. I'm out with you guys, what's not to be smiling about?' I pulled on his arm, 'Come on. Let's go to the dance floor.'

'Ha, I'm not dancing. Take others with you instead.'

'Luther is busy with those girls that's surrounding him, Allison and Vanya has been gone and you're the only one looking like a lost, sad puppy.'

'You don't think Luther needs our help?'

I looked over at him and laughed, 'He seems like he's enjoying the attention he's getting from them. He'll be alright. Now let's go.'

Diego rolled his eyes, 'I'll just watch.'

'Don't be a butt, come on.' I pulled on him again, this time he walked with me as he groaned.

We walked down to the dance floor, shoving ourselves through the sweaty crowd as we found Allison, Vanya and Five squeezed together.

'Exactly why is this fun?' Five said as he was sandwiched between two giant guys that were jumping up and down.

Allison turned around, dancing to the music the DJ was playing. 'Get drunk, dance your stress away. We're out the freaking house, Five.'

'Huh?' Five shouted, not being able to hear what Allison had said to him. She ignored him and continued to dance as she grabbed Vanya's hands.

I started to dance with my sisters, singing along and jumping up and down. Diego and Five just stood awkwardly, watching us drunk girls dancing.

'Excuse me, sorry. Ah, my fault.' Ben screamed from behind as he came with three drinks in his hand, followed by Klaus who was sipping from one of the cups.

Klaus handed us our drinks, 'Damn. It took us forever to look for you guys. I saw Luther's big ass but he's with those girls.'

'Our boy is busy.' I grinned as I pulled the straw into my mouth, sipping on my drink to get myself more drunk.

Five started groaning, I looked to see two girls talking to him and wondering how he ended up here. 'Aw, little kid are you lost? Poor thing.'

'No, I'm with them.' He replied angrily, arms crossed as he scooted himself towards Ben.

'Ah, you brought a boy to a club? What is wrong with you guys!' The girl said, given how bad it looked I never consider how it'll look from other perspective.

'Wait, no. It's- let me explain!' Ben stumbled with words, stuttering as he tried to reason with them. 'He- he's just a really really late bloomer. We're all actually in our 20s okay.'

'I'm just stuck in this body as an adult. Don't lie to them!' Five tried to defend himself, although it wouldn't really help with the confusing situation.

Klaus frowned and leaned towards the girls. 'Yeah, he's in denial. Very sensitive subject that we like to avoid.'

The girls nodded, awed as they were sympathize of our "situation" that we'd explained to them. 'So sorry, you guys have fun.'

'I hate you guys.' Five mumbled, snatching the cup from Allison's hand and drinking from it.

'Hey, I wasn't fini-'

'Y/N, this is the best night ever!' Luther came into the dance floor, cheerful as ever. 'Thank you for bringing me here because this is amazing.'

Diego chuckled, 'Of course. You were practically having a foursome with those girls over there.'

'You're just jealous.' Luther stuck his tongue out like a seven year old boy. Klaus, Ben and I laughed hysterically; it was even funnier because we were drunk, and Luther, our "daddy's boy" brother was enjoying sneaking out of the mansion.

'One of my friends are single, if you want me to set you-'

'Y/N, drop it.' Diego turned away, 'I need to take a leak. You guys better stay here.'

As Diego walked away with Five to the bathroom, we continued to dance and drink. Vanya was giggling, swaying back and forth as Ben and Allison had a dance-off seeing who can bring out the best moves. Klaus and I were downing the rest of our drinks, practically singing our face off as the DJ played such good music.

'Ah, we need more drin-' Klaus paused mid-sentence, looking back and forth between me and the stage. 'So you are whoring around, you whore.'

'Don't know what you're talking about.' I denied, not understand how Klaus came to this conclusion. 'I don't get it.'

He hit me on my side, 'Don't play dumb with me! I see you and that DJ eye humping each other.'

He wasn't making things up when he had said that; I did have my eyes on the DJ. 'We are not eye humping each other. He doesn't even know me.'

'Well, he knows you now because he's staring at you and I swear your clothes will burn off soon because he won't stop.' Ben chuckled, guessing that he noticed it as well.

'You're crazy.' I didn't think he noticed me at all, I mean he was the DJ. He was overlooking everyone on the dance floor, it'd be dumb to assume he had his eyes on me.

Allison joined in on the conversation, 'I noticed that too! I thought you guys fucked before or something.'

'No! What do you guys think I am?'

'A girl with needs.' Klaus smiled.

'Just because I sneak out does not mean I'm going around sleeping with random people.'

Vanya laughed, 'Okay well, you can with him. There he goes, looking at you. Don't look.'

'You guys lost your minds.'

'Says the girl that sneaks behind dad and her siblings.' Luther joked.

'Okay, Luther don't get me started with you and those girls.'

Luther grunted, 'Ugh. I-'

'Hey, big fella over there.' The DJ got on the mic as he pointed at Luther. 'Why don't you come on the stage, get the crowd going!'

'Go, go!' Ben and Klaus shoved Luther towards the stage, even with him being hesitant and shy. 'Go show what the Hargreeves are all about!'

'I-I can't!' Luther hesitated, planted on the floor even when all of us tried to encourage him to go up there.

The DJ smiled at Luther, then looked at me. 'Dude, bring your friends up here too. We're going to turn this dance floor around for a bit.'

'Come on, he's calling for you!' Allison cheered as she pulled me and Klaus' hand, running up the stage.

Luther, Ben and Vanya trailed from behind, standing next to us while we danced to the DJ's new song he was playing.

Pulling Luther towards me, I gave him the last few sips I had in my cup before I threw it away. 'Here, you are probably starting to sober up. You need more.'

'Ah, Y/N. What makes you think I'm not drunk right now?'

'Because I remember when you were the night-'

'Okay, okay. You and Klaus never let that night go.'

The DJ leaned in as he kept playing music, 'Hey. If you and your boyfriend want more drinks, it's on the house.'

'Ha, she's not my girlfriend.' Luther chuckled.

'Ah, I stand corrected.' The DJ then turned to me and smiled sweetly. 'Would you mind if I buy you a drink?'

I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or him, but I felt my cheeks getting warmer as the cute guy spoke to me. 'No, I wouldn't mind.'

The DJ bit his lip, taking his headphones off and walking downstairs. 'Alright, I'll be right back.'

Allison tapped on my sides repeatedly as he walked away. 'You lucky! He's so cute.'

'Maybe he has a brother. I call dibs though.' Klaus stared at him, eyeing him as he went up to the bar to get some drinks.

While Allison and Vanya continued to dance on the stage, Luther was once again being surrounded by a bunch of girls from the dance floor.

'Y/N is scoring some tonight and Luther is getting all these attention again.' Klaus shrugged his shoulders, looking around. 'What in the hell did Luther do to have these girls crawling around like crazy?'

'Wait, wait. Scoring some? I barely said a word to this dude.'

'Whatever, man. I need to go back down and look for someone now.'

Ben chuckled, patting Klaus on his shoulder. 'I got your back, bro. Come on I'll be your wingman.'

As soon as Klaus heard those words come out of Ben's mouth, they both left the stage so quick I couldn't even speak to them back. Trailing them down the dance floor, I see the DJ coming back on stage with drinks in his hands.

'Here you go, I didn't know which drinks you like so I hope you like this one.' He was sweet, it could've been an act to try to talk to me but I didn't mind for one night. 'I'm Luke by the way.'

'Y/N. And this is perfect, thank you.' I gave him a flirty smile but then was interrupted when I saw something in the corner of my eye.

I looked through the crowd and saw Diego and Five, glaring at me and my siblings that were on the stage. They seemed like how Reginald would react in this situation; catching his children sneaking out at night and hanging out at a club.

Except it wasn't dad, it was my weird brothers that couldn't grasp what fun was. Watching us as if they were disappointed fathers that just saw their crazy teenager kids discovering drinking and partying for the first time.

'Oops.' It came out of my mouth naturally as I stared at Diego and Five, followed by a giggle that I couldn't help. It was funny watching them being weirdly upset with us, especially when it felt like the club was spinning round and round.

'You guys are screwed.' Five mouthed back, shaking his head as he watched us from down the dance floor.

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

My eyes shot open, not knowing where I was at for a moment until I realized I was in my room. I then see Diego sitting on my bed side chair, watching me as if he was guarding me.

'Rise and shine, zombie.' Diego chuckled, seeing how crazy I looked with messed up makeup and a bed head.

'Ho-how did I get here last night.' I turned around and looked around, noticed that the cute DJ guy wasn't in my bed. 'I don't remember anything.'

Diego grinned, 'You're curious huh.'

'Where is Luke-Oh no... Did I do something stupid?' I was confused, so confused because I thought everything was going good last night. But now that I didn't remember anything after I said hi to him, I got scared. 'Oh my- Did I do something embarrassing? Fuck.'

'Well, I don't know what you define "embarrassing" but yeah. You definitely made the crowd go wild last night.' Diego started laughing, his loud voice ringing in my ear from my hangover.

Covering my ears, I shook my head. 'Diego... shh. My head hurts okay.'

'This is why I don't drink.'

I shook my head, 'Is everyone back safely?'

'Oh, don't even worry about everyone else, they're perfectly fine. It was you that we had a hard time bringing home, Y/N.'

'So can you tell me what happened?'

'Sure, after you acknowledge that I'm the best brother ever.' Diego raised his eyebrows, adjusting his positioning on the chair.

A light laugh just escaped my mouth, keeping my mouth closed so I wouldn't start burst out laughing. 'You're kidding me right? Really?'

'Yes really. I had to carry you home, tuck you into bed after you kicked and screamed, help you get up so you can throw up. I didn't even know humans were physically able to throw up so much.'

When Diego put it like that, I felt bad that he had to take care of me throughout the night. 'Okay Diego, you're the best brother in the world. Also I'm sorry you had to do all that for me.'

'Aha, no worries. That was probably the most entertaining night ever.' He laughed, 'You were fucking crazy.'

I smiled, I bet Diego really enjoyed me making a fool of myself or whatever I did last night that got him giggling nonstop. 'So are you going to tell me?'

'Hmm, nope. Thanks for the compliment though.'

'Ugh, I hate you.'

'Not according to yesterday you don't.' Diego smirked.

[yonkimint]

Always [Hobi x Reader] - 30

*Contains pictures and text so make sure to read the pictures in order!

PREVIOUS - MASTERLIST - NEXT

TAGLIST (send an ask or leave a reply if you want to be added!): @jikooksgirl19 @esteemedsalt @joyfullyobsessed @purpletaecup @ramyagovindraj @kiwimash12 @thesweetest-peas @somelazysundays @letmebreathepls @embrace-themagic @dingzerenistall @dyaidk @obinamseok @pb-n-juju @wordsaremyswords @slayyterr @dannighost @beeeb05 @halesandy @secretlycrazyhummingbird @staaardustt @danny-boy27​ @topthis808​

“Thank you, Kim Namjoon! What a lovely speech!” the DJ says, taking the mic back from Namjoon. Everyone is clapping and raising their champagne flutes in celebration of the grooms who are all bright eyes and wide smiles in their crisp white tuxes up at the front of the room.

You sit to Jimin’s left, gulping from your own flute, and praying that when the DJ calls you up to deliver a speech of your own, you don’t screw it up. Namjoon settles back into his seat to the right of Tae and leans around the grooms to give you a thumbs up.

Your stomach drops.

“And now we’ll hear from the other best man, Jeon y/n!”

You rise to your feet, feeling the eyes of every wedding guest fall on you, and try not to trip as you make your way over to the mic. The high heels aren’t helping and you stumble once but you can blame that on the alcohol. How many glasses have you had now? It’s hard to keep track.

The DJ passes the mic off to you and you grasp it with a small bow in his direction before he fades out of the spotlight. Now that you’re alone in front of all of Jimin and Tae’s friends and family — your friends and family too — the jitters really start to take hold.

You take a deep, steadying breath and search the crowd for the one person who can calm you down even from across a room. He’s waiting for you, a goofy, encouraging grin already plastered across his face, his warm eyes curved in little half smiles of their own.

You grip the mic a little tighter as your anxiety starts to slip away.

“Some of you are probably wondering what the heck I’m doing at this wedding,” you say. A nervous chuckle rings around the room. You laugh too and chance a glance at Tae and Jimin. They’re smiling but you can tell they haven’t relaxed yet. This is the hardest thing they have asked you to do in the entire wedding: speak to their love and happiness when they ripped away yours.

“Don’t worry, you can laugh,” you assure everyone, “I’ve been wondering what the heck I’m doing here too!”

You wink at Jimin and Tae before launching into the speech you’ve prepared. They suck in a sharp breath but there’s no going back now.

“I have been best friends with Jimin since I popped out of the womb basically — don’t tell my twin though cause he might get offended! Sorry, Kookie!” you call, casting an apologetic glance to your brother.

“It’s fine!” he yells back from his seat between Hobi and your mother, “Always knew you were a traitor!”

The reception hall erupts in laughter when your mom gasps and swats at him and you feel everyone start to relax finally. 

“Anyway, I knew that Jimin and I were friends from day one because my dad captured our meeting on video and the very first thing Jimin said when he saw me was ‘yuck!’ and then he refused to let even my mom hold me,” you explain with a laugh, “So it’s no surprise that we always planned to be in each other’s weddings.

“And Taehyung, as many of you know, I have loved for a very long time too! Unfortunately, I wasn’t around to see their relationship flourish over these last five years but here’s what I can tell you about these boys. They love fiercely and passionately and I don’t think there is a single force on this earth that could tear them apart — and you can trust me because I have tried!

“But I think it’s pretty obvious to anyone who has met them how perfect they are for each other. They are both so driven, so full of life, and so in love. And, I’ll be honest, I wasn’t super thrilled when I found out just how in love they were five years ago and I was even less thrilled when Jimin asked me to be his best man a few months ago BUT just look at them!

“Don’t you see them and just hope you find someone who looks at you the way they look at each other?” you ask.

And while the whole reception turns to look at Tae and Jimin, you train your eyes on Hobi. You expect him to be looking toward the happy couple as well but his eyes never stray from your face. Your cheeks flush and you smile shyly.

“I love you,” he mouths. Something about the earnest expression on his face, or maybe it’s the soft yellow light dappling his skin, makes your knees knock together. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe it’s just that you know he means he’s in love with you. Maybe it’s that you’re in love with him too actually.

Whatever it is, you scrunch your nose at him. You can’t respond to him in the middle of your speech and he knows it and it’s not fair. His shoulders shake with his laughter but you can be patient. You plan on having the last laugh.

“And since I don’t think I can do their love justice in words alone,” you say into the mic as everyone turns their attention back to you, “I’ve gotten permission from one of the grooms to commemorate it in song.”

You wink at Tae who is already laughing. You had waited until late last night to ask him if this would be okay and he had agreed before you could even finish the request. 

Jimin’s look of confusion is priceless and when you glance around the room at the other boys, you can’t help but giggle. Namjoon is shocked. Yoongi’s lips have puckered disapprovingly and Jin is rolling his eyes. Jungkook looks mildly curious. But it is Hobi’s reaction that you save for last.

He looks so worried. And that makes you laugh hardest.

“Bring in the drag loving orphans,” you shout and two servers open the doors to the kitchen to let five small children dressed in varying Dolly Parton costumes weave their way through the tables until they stand in the spotlight with you.

The whole hall is in chaos.

“Tae, Jimin,” you say, “to your love!”

You lift your glass half full of champagne, down it in one swallow, and then you start to sing, “If I… should stay…”

As you sing, the “orphans” begin to pull guests out onto the dance floor. Tae and Jimin, the first among them. From the corner of your eye, you see Namjoon make his way over to Jin and you fight the urge to cheer when Jin nods in answer to a question you can’t hear and lets Joon lead him onto the dance floor too.

Jungkook has grabbed your mom and is spinning her around the room. Yoongi looks amused but does not get up from his table, maybe in solidarity with Hobi who is so shocked that he looks like he’s paralyzed. 

And it’s into Hobi’s eyes that you look as you sing the final notes of the song.

“Darling, I love you. I’ll always, I’ll always love you.”

[ally22042000]

Linked by fate

Shifting

Werewolf AU

Fluff, Angst

OT7 x Reader

Pack Alpha: Namjoon Alpha: Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook Beta: Seokjin, Yoongi, Taehyung Omega: Y/N

Wordcount: 1.7K

Commenting and rebloging is always appreciated.

A/N: Hey, guys. I hope you are going to like this chapter. I was thinking about creating little mood boards, so you have an overview of their fur colour, etcetera. Let me know what you think about that. -Ally

It was in elementary when your animal instincts slowly started to make their appearances. While the position a wolf had was clear from birth, their natural behaviours didn’t start to show until later into their upbringings. Unhurriedly the process begins during childhood and steadily takes over more of their senses. The stronger instincts like the alpha’s power to force others to follow any of their command or heats and ruts, didn’t begin until the late teenage years. To ensure the safety of everyone and the capability for beta and omega parents to raise alpha children.

Another feature that slowly starts is the ability to turn into your wolf form. Namjoon was the first of our pack to shift. The calling to protect his younger to strong. It took over his body and made him show his true power as the pack alpha he was born to be. His parents were immensely proud, thankful that he wasn’t a late shifter. Wolfs that didn’t turn before their fourteenth birthday were often frowned upon and seen as a lacking member of the clan.

Next in line was Hobi. He had always had a strong connection to his basic instincts. Having been trained to fight from a young age and coming from a strong lineage of worriers, nobody was surprise that he shifted shortly after he turned nine. Since than he often favoured to walk around in is furred form. It felt more like himself, is what he said whenever someone asked.

Jungkook shift was a surprise to everyone. It was rare for someone, who didn’t come from a strong blood line to turn before their tenth birthday but like always the golden boy defeated any standards and turned on his eight birthday. All of you had gathered in his small living room. With his parents both being omegas they weren’t able to afford much. Most jobs, especially the ones who help authority, where given to alphas or betas. Omegas were regarded as to much of a push over to stand their ground when needed. That lead to them having a smaller income than the other to wolf species. But disregarding the financial consequences and the fact they wouldn’t be able to have a child with each other, they stayed together; their love too strong to break. Considering the impossibility of them having a child together, Jungkook knew from a young age, that he was adopted. A fact that never bothered him. Something his parents were eternally grateful for.

His mother brought in the cake and set it down in front of the little boy. Everyone around him was singing, while he closed his eyes and made a wish. Desiring that this moment would never fade, him surrounded by the people he cared deeply for. Everyone healthy and a smile painting their lips while they celebrated his birthday. He filled his lungs with air and looked at the eight little flames in front of him. But instead of the sound of rushing air and cheering, the ripping of cloth was heard, and a little black wolf was sat on the stool in lieu.

The room went silent everyone staring at the puppy with the big eyes. Slowly similes formed on their faces, happy that a new wolf found its fur. Cheers and clapping filled the room. Congratulations came flying Jungkook’s way, little hands stretching and shoving to touch his fur. His father returning with a camera and capturing the scene. His mother wiping away a stray tear of happiness. Glad she was able to witness that new chapter in her son’s live. Meanwhile Jin watched the situation from his chair unmoving and having eyes for one thing and one thing only: “Yeah, that’s really great but can we eat cake now.”

Jin and Tae funnily shifted at the same time. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon and all of you with the exception of Namjoon and Hoseok, who were attending a pack meeting in request of their parents, were playing in Yoongi’s backyard. Both his parents were gone one a hunting trip for a few days, like they often were, leaving Yoongi and his brother on their own. The beta was in his wolf form, having turned a few weeks ago while turning on the shower and the water having been too cold. His brown fur with a read hint feeling silky as you braided it. When you stared, he let out a little huff, showing annoyance at your antics, but being too lazy to move he let you do your thing. You smirked to yourself, knowing that he actually enjoyed the feeling of your finger running through his fur.

Jimin and Jungkook were training on one side of the huge yard. Both of them started taking a liking to taekwondo. Meanwhile the other two troublemakers were playing a game of badminton on the other side of the field. A loud yell was heard, when Jin lost another point to the younger, the wind’s fault of course.

After two more failed attempts the oldest threw down his racked in anger and started chasing the dark haired. Laughter filled the air as Tae took off. The feel of the chase awoke something primal in Jin and before he knew it a new sensation washed over his skin and he suddenly chased Tae on four legs instead of the usual two. The youngers instincts were triggered by the older wolf chasing him and his own first shift took place. Tae had a soft looking, sand coloured fur, while Jin was another brown one but with more of an ashy touch.

The rest of the afternoon the both of them explored their new ability alongside Jungkook. Jimin had taken residency behind you, back hugging you while watching the others. Although you couldn’t see his face, you felt the wave of sadness that washed over him. The both of you were the only ones who hadn’t turned yet. You were only twelve so you still had enough time before it would be considered abnormal, but the pressure lingered.

Jimin didn’t turn until he was seventeen, a fact which cost him a lot of fights with his parents and multiple appointments with his doctor. Countless nights spent in your bed, crying into your pillow, screaming because of the pain this was causing him. With him being the alpha, he was expected to be this strong wolf that no one stood a chance against, but here he was not able to do the simplest thing known to your beings.

When he did turn his wolf was coated in a beautiful fur of the purest white you had ever laid eyes upon. His animal form as elegant as his human. His parents were proud and from there perspective Jimin’s flaw had faded just like their problems, but in reality, their relationship never went back to the way it was. He wasn’t the kid that ran home from school because he missed his mother anymore. Or the one that would tremble on his feet at his first dance performance, until he saw his fathers encouraging smile, which could wash away any problem, and let him be the beautiful swan he was.

You had turned a day after Jimin, had cried yourself to sleep the night before at the fact that you were the only one of your group that hadn’t turned yet. You were happy for Jimin when he called you and told you about the great news; genuinely. But the fear and self-hatred crawled up on you at night. Reminding you of your duty, as an omega and as a wolf, to your pack and your incapability of living up to it.

The following day you felt nauseous and empty, but still your parents forced you to attend school. As a senior it was important to be present as often as possible and to learn until your brain smoked to insure you could attend the collage of your choosing. You made it to two lessons, before the sick feeling in your stomach won the upper hand and you ran to the bathroom. Having arrived at the stall and preparing yourself to let out your small breakfast, a warmth like never before overcame you. You let out a pained breath as you felt your body expand and your cloth rip. And then you stood there, grey fur covering your body as you saw yourself in the bathroom mirror.

Your ears flexed at every sound that could be heard from outside. The footsteps of a person running somewhere; probably late for class. The uncomfortable squeaking of a chalk on a black board. Then a waft of a delicious smell slipped through the opening beneath the door. The cafeteria ladies had started cooking lunch. Hamburgers and fries how it seemed. And then you could smell a familiar scent, one that you would be able to pick up anywhere. Clumsily you were able to open the door with your bowl sized paws. You hurried down the hallway, slipping a few times on the freshly cleaned tiles.

You almost ran Namjoon over when you saw him. Standing before his locker, he was grabbing a history book for his next lesson, when you bumped into him. At first, he was simply shocked, pondering why a stranger would run into him like that. But then he picked up on your sent slowly, his olfactory sense not having fully developed yet, it took him awhile to realise who was standing in front of him.

A lazy grin covered his face as realisation hit him. Slowly he got down on his knees and warped his arms around your neck: “Hello my pretty omega, welcome to your true form.”

The others were ecstatic when they heard the good news. Happy that all of their group members had been blessed with the ability to shift, knowing of the horrific outcome the situation could have had, had you not turned before your eighteenth birthday. When every wolf was fully developed, and alphas gained the capability of forming their pack and gifting their mark.

Your pack was safe, healthy, and happy, and that was all that concerned you for now.

[easily-infatuated23]

The Nanny

request: “Hello, could you write something where a few years after the death of his wife Draco hires a new nanny for Scorpius and ends up falling in love with her... could have anguish, but the ending would be happy? Please!My first language is not English I'm sorry if you got confused.” - @trouxa2x  

a/n: i hope this is what you wanted! and your english is great don’t worry :) also-there is a phone call which is in italics and song lyrics for La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf in italics

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Nanny!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: mention of death for like a moment

summary: After the birth of his son and the death of his wife, Draco Malfoy needs a nanny 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day Draco Malfoy’s son was born was the happiest and saddest day of his life. His loving wife Astoria had been diagnosed with a blood curse that killed her moments after Scorpius was born. His first breath, had been her last. Although he knew this would be the likely outcome, it was still crushing. Draco didn’t like to talk about his emotions and knew the only way to get over his wife’s death would be to burry himself in his work as a Healer. But with a baby, he couldn’t just shut out the world. He needed help. It was obvious he was struggling.

During the long process of making amends after the war, Draco had some how become close to the golden trio he had despised so much as a child. Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had all come by to meet Scorpius and check in on Draco. He looked awful. The bags under his eyes were worse than during the war. “I have a friend who is looking for some work as a nanny, she’s great with kids, babies especially. I’ll get you her number” Hermione said, rummaging through her purse looking for her contacts book. Draco nodded slightly. He had considered getting a nanny but the idea of another woman acting motherly toward Scorpius made him feel sick. However, Draco politely took the number and thanked Hermione.

As the months continued on Draco found it easier to care for Scorpius. He had taken up a job as a consultant for the hospital so he could spend most of his time at home with his son. But as the months stretched into years, Draco grew depressed. Scorpius became fussier and fussier and the hospital was begging for him to come back as a full time Healer. “It’s time” Draco thought. He looked through the drawers of his desk until he found the phone number Hermione had given him nearly two years prior. He dialed the number, feeling anxious and unsure of exactly what to say.

“Hello?” a female voice answered.

“Hi um is this Y/F/N Y/L/N?”

“This is she, may I ask who is calling?”

“Oh yes um this is Draco Malfoy. I’m a friend of Hermione Gran- I mean Weasley’s.”

“Oh hello! I remember she mentioned a few years back you might be in need of a nanny.”

“Yes! Well, I had been handling it pretty well but now I am finding myself in need of some help so I can go back to work…”

“I see. Let me guess, those ‘terrible two’s’ are in full swing right about now” she chuckled.

“Yes exactly! I was wondering if you would consider interviewing to become a live-in nanny for my son Scorpius. I am not sure for how long or what I would pay you but-”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” she interrupted. “I’m sure we could conduct a formal interview as well but may I come over and just meet Scorpius first? I find that sometimes the baby will tell the parent whether or not the nanny is the right fit, even before an interview.”

“Yes of course. Can you come over around 11 am tomorrow?”

“Yes. See you then. Good day”

“Thank you, cheers”

He hung up the phone. He looked over at Scorpius sitting in his high chair. The baby gurgled and threw some cereal to the ground. Then seeing his cereal on the ground, Scorpius started to wail at an incredible volume. The interview couldn’t come soon enough. The next day at 11 am sharp, Y/N knocked on the door. When Draco opened it, she was met with the chaos that had become his daily life. The house was a mess and Scorpius was screaming. “Hi, welcome. Sorry about the mess” he stammered, showing her into the house. “Nice to meet you Mr. Malfoy” she replied cheerily. Seemingly unfazed, she walked into the living room, put down her purse, and sat down next to the screaming baby. Draco watched her as she began to rub the baby’s back and started to softly sing. The baby slowly began to quiet down until he was quiet enough for Draco to hear what Y/N was singing.

~Quand il me prend dans ses bras, qu’il me parle tout bas. Je vois la vie en rose. Il me dit des mots d’amour, des mots de tous les jours, et ça m'fait quelque chose….~

The baby began to smile as Y/N picked him up and cradled him, still singing.

~Il est entré dans mon cœur, une part de bonheur, dont je connais la cause. C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie, il me l'a dit, l'a juré, pour la vie. Et dès que je l’aperçois, alors je sens en moi, mon cœur qui bat..~

She then began to hum the tune more quietly and sway lightly. Scorpius’s eyes fluttered closed as he drifted to sleep. She smiled and looked up at his father. Draco was standing with his hand over his mouth, tears falling from his icy blue eyes. “Are you alright Mr. Malfoy?” she whispered. He nodded. He cleared his throat quietly before speaking. “La Vie en Rose was the song Astoria and I used for our first dance at our wedding”. “Oh I’m so sorry, if I had known I wouldn’t have…” He shook his head at her. “No it’s alright. I just… miss her”. She tilted her head sympathetically. “From what I’ve heard of her, she sounded lovely. I wish I could have met her.” Draco nodded and looked down at his shoes, trying to hold himself together.

“If you would tell me where his crib is I can put him down so we can start the formal interview. If you’d like” she said, knowing a subject change was what needed to occur. Draco nodded and gestured for her to follow him. Once Scorpius was in his crib, the adults went to the living room to discuss the particulars of the arrangement. Y/N told Draco about how she discovered her love for child care when she worked as a nanny for a short time while traveling in France. “When I came back to England, I worked for a few other Wizarding families including Hermione and Ron for a short time. Ron actually nick named me ‘the baby whisperer’” she said chuckling. “After what just happened, I’m inclined to believe him!” Draco replied. Without needing to consider it, Draco offered Y/N the job.

A year later Draco was still kicking himself daily for not hiring Y/N sooner. His life and mental health had improved drastically since she moved in. He was able to go back to working at the hospital full time and help people like he had always wanted. The two had developed a close friendship and Y/N became part of his family. The house felt almost foreign when she was gone. Though she was a live-in nanny, Draco still encouraged Y/N to take days off, and when she would go, Draco missed her terribly. He could tell Scorpius missed her too.

“You’re falling in love with her!” Hermione teased. She had come over to see Y/N and Draco and knew immediately. “What? No, she works for me. That would be highly inappropriate” he replied defensively. Hermione rolled her eyes. Draco looked across the room at Y/N. She was holding Scorpius near a window and was pointing at something and talking to him. Scorpius was giggling loudly and clapping his little chubby hands. Draco couldn’t help but smile. There was no doubt that he was fond of Y/N, but did he love her? She was great with Scorpius, she understood Draco’s feelings (sometimes better than he did), and she was beautiful. But her beauty wasn’t just external, she had a truly beautiful soul. Another six months went by before Draco was sure. He had fallen for Y/N. He hadn’t meant to fall for her, but she was easy to love. He tried not to act differently towards her but after the realization of his feelings, he couldn’t help it. It started with lingering glances and lead to going out of his way to have little moments of physical contact with her. Whether that was reaching for the same toy to give to Scorpius, or squeezing her hand to get her attention while Scorpius was sleeping. There was not a doubt in his mind about it. He loved her, whole heartedly.

Draco woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of Scorpius crying. He rubbed his eyes and rolled out of bed. He walked down the hallway and into his son’s room, only to find that Y/N was already there. She was standing with her back to the door, rocking Scorpius and singing to him. Draco stood outside of the room, leaning on the door frame as he watched Y/N calm the crying child. He couldn’t help but smile at her. Eventually, she stopped singing and spoke to Scorpius. “You are so loved Scorpius. Your dad loves you, I love you, and your mama loves in all the way from heaven.” Draco continued to smile but in a more melancholy way. Y/N had always made a point of talking to Scorpius about his mother, even though she knew the baby didn’t understand what she said. Draco still found it difficult to talk about Astoria, but Y/N had always insisted that Scorpius know how much his mother loved him, even though she was gone. She rocked him a few more times before placing him back into his crib. When she turned to face the door she smiled at Draco. “I’ll see you again in an hour or so” she joked. She walked past him and exited the room, making her way down to the first floor. Draco watched her walk away before returning to his room. Scorpius didn’t cry again that night but still Draco couldn’t sleep. He decided to go down to the kitchen and fix himself a sandwich, besides, if he was awake he might as well do something to pass the time. As he made his way down the hall to the stairs, he noticed a light was on in the kitchen. He walked down and found Y/N sitting in the kitchen. She was sitting at the kitchen counter eating a bowl of pasta and reading a book. She looked up when she heard him enter the room. “Can’t sleep?” she asked. He chuckled and nodded. “Welcome to the club. Look I even saved you a seat!” she joked, gesturing at the chair next to her.

He rummaged through the pantry and complied his sandwich. He then joined her at the table. She put her book down and angled herself in his direction. “You seem different” she said. He looked down at his plate, feeling a pit in his throat. He gulped. “What do you mean?” he asked. “You just seem…I don’t know, happier recently. I can’t put my finger on it”. Did she know about his feelings? Was she trying to bait him into admitting it? He forced himself to look at her. Even at 4 in the morning she was beautiful. He took a deep breath and decided to answer honestly. “I recently decided that I’m ready to open myself up to the idea of love again. Astoria wouldn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life and something just told me its time” he said. Y/N smiled. “That’s really great Draco. I’m so happy for you”. She had a slight glimmer in her eye, she had to know. He eyed her a bit suspiciously. She laughed. “Ok ok don’t give me that look! Hermione might have mentioned to me that you had found someone and I had to ask! Whoever she is she’s a lucky girl” she turned back to her book.

Draco couldn’t believe what he heard. Y/N, the girl who some how knew him better than he knew himself, didn’t know he was in love with her! He smiled and rolled his eyes as he stood up and leaned his back against the counter, putting his hand over Y/N’s book. She looked up at him, some what puzzled. “Y/N, it’s you. I’ve fallen for you. Totally and completely” he said, hopefully sounding more courageous than he was feeling. Her jaw dropped. She couldn’t speak. She mouthed “me?” and pointed to herself. Draco’s smile widened and he nodded. She grinned. He cupped his hands around her cheeks and leaned in closely, so closely it was a wonder their eyelashes didn’t brush against each other. He waited for her to give him permission to close the gap between their bodies. “Kiss me” she whispered. He closed the gap and their lips touched, gently but still passionately. She stood up from her chair and rose to her tip toes as her hands played with his hair. The kissing became laughing as they came up for air. “I didn’t think it was possible to kiss someone and smile at the same time” Y/N said. “With you, I don’t think I’ll ever stop smiling”. There was a comfortable silence as they rested their foreheads against each other, enjoying being close. “I love you Y/N”. She looked up and into his eyes. “I love you too Draco”.

[laurfilijames]

Wild Horses- Part 2 (Prequel to Slow Burn)

Pairing: Modern AU Fili x Female OC Prim

Words: 3682

Summary: Fili and Prim enjoy a night out with Kili and Tauriel playing pool and singing karaoke. Prim attempts to make Fili see how much she’s grown to care for and want him since they met a year ago, but something is holding Fili back.

Warnings: Rated M. Alcohol consumption, swearing. Mentions of intercourse. Discussions of masturbation. Unwanted advances. A punch and bloody nose/hand. Mentions of war/military/deployment. Slight dom/sub suggestion.

A/N: This was so enjoyable to write, I had so much fun building the dynamic between them and adding to that slow burn. But be warned, angst is ahead in the coming chapters!

The song that Prim sings is linked below if anyone wants to listen to really get a feel for the chapter. (The original song is by the Divinyls but I like this cover better).

Thank you again to @guardianofrivendell for editing, listening to my struggles and always giving wonderful advice and endless support!

—————

“It’s your round this time!” Prim whined.

“No, no, I got the last one remember? It’s definitely your round,” Fíli argued.

She did remember, she was just hoping he wouldn’t.

“Fine. I’ll make you a bet, whoever loses this game has to get the drinks,” Prim wagered.

“Deal!” Fíli moved around the pool table to line up his next shot. Before he did, he looked up at Prim and smirked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But the loser also has to go up there and sing a song.”

“You bastard! You’re only betting that much because you know I’ll lose and you won’t have to sing.”

He grinned at her, amused at upping the stakes.

“Exactly,” he said, sinking his shot as he did.

Prim was awful at pool, leaving her questioning exactly why she would make a bet with him, knowing it would result in her buying the drinks and now apparently also singing a song in front of the entire bar.

She focused as she lined up her shot, praying she was successful in landing the ball in the intended pocket but faltered when she felt Fíli’s body cover hers from behind just as she attempted her hit, missing her shot completely and losing the game.

“See, you should’ve aimed more over there-,” Fíli teased, laughing as she whipped around and smacked him hard on the chest.

“I would’ve got that in if it wasn’t for you!”

He looked at her doubtfully, and although she was pissed at him for making her lose the game, she enjoyed the proximity of his body to hers. His hand remained on her waist in an almost claiming way, probably making them look like lovers to people who didn’t know them.

Prim reluctantly stepped out of his grasp and gave him the most devilish look she could as she walked over to the stage where the karaoke machine was set up. There were large speakers surrounding it and a single microphone standing in the middle, waiting for its next performer.

Prim couldn’t help but grin despite the embarrassment she felt, watching Fíli clap and hoot loudly at her as he leaned against the pool table, Kili and Tauriel following suit from the table where they sat.

She knew exactly which song she was going to sing, something that would hopefully turn Fíli on while also letting him know how she felt about him.

After spending so much time getting to know each other over the last year, Prim knew without a doubt that he was the only one she could ever want. Their relationship so far was effortless, friends who could make each other laugh and were able to share anything with each other, the good and the bad, all traced with whispers of an eagerness for more.

She adored his family and they welcomed her without hesitation as a part of their own. Prim especially admired the relationship between the two brothers, as well as the one they shared with Thorin.

It made her wish she could say the same about her own family, but this found family was all she needed.

And Fíli… Fíli was incredible. He still treated her as sweetly and with as much care as he had the day they met.

He evened her out. His calm manner balanced her fiery ways. Nobody else’s personality had ever complimented hers more and he made her feel instantly happy just by being in the same room.

So it didn’t come as a surprise to Prim when the inevitable happened: she fell in love with him.

But it was almost as if an unsaid agreement to take things slow stood between them, both of them knowing at some point they would be more than just friends, but Prim was growing increasingly impatient. She had often tried to hint that she wanted more, that she was ready to take it to the next level, but Fíli wasn’t budging. Maybe Prim wasn’t as conspicuous as she thought she was.

It was about time she started to make things a little more clear for him.

The music started up after she selected the song and she readied herself before the mic, willing courage from her three glasses of wine to grace her.

“I love myself

I want you to love me,”

The crowd erupted in cheers, realizing what she had selected.

“When I feel down

I want you above me

I search myself

I want you to find me

I forget myself

I want you to remind me,”

The look on Fíli’s face was priceless, full of surprise and curiosity and maybe even a hint of lust as he pushed his tongue in his bottom lip, so Prim continued, her eyes locked on his as she began to run her hands down her sides and over her breasts,

“I don’t want anybody else

When I think about you

I touch myself

Oh, I don’t want anybody else

Oh no, oh no, oh no,”

Encouragement from the crowd kept her going, but not as much as the expression on Fíli’s face did. Prim continued her seductive dance as she sang, carding her hands through her hair and down her neck to her chest, still managing to sing despite the huge grin on her face,

“I close my eyes

And see you before me

Think I would die

If you were to ignore me

A fool could see

Just how much I adore you

I’d get down on my knees

I’d do anything for you,”

When the song ended, Prim bowed to the standing ovation given to her by the entire bar. She hopped off the stage and walked back over to Fíli who was shaking his head in disbelief.

“Wow,” was all he managed to say, his eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

“I don’t think after that performance I should still shout the drinks,” she suggested.

“Um, no, that wasn’t the deal,” he corrected her, standing close enough she could see his pulse thumping in his neck. He stared at her like he was trying to figure out what she was up to, and also like he could kiss her. His eyes lingered on her lips as though he was about to consume them and Prim thought how she would sell her soul to have him do it.

Did he still not know how badly she wanted him?

With the adrenaline from her performance still coursing through her body, Prim was about to confess her feelings to Fíli. She wanted to tell him that the song was indeed dedicated to him, and that the lyrics applied to her when she thought about him, but was interrupted by Kili and Tauriel coming over to congratulate her.

“Prim you never cease to amaze me!” Kili said, gripping his hands on her shoulders from behind.

“I think you have every man in here worked up!” Tauriel added.

As appreciative as she was for their compliments, the only opinion she really cared about was Fíli’s.

“Yeah, you are incredible,” Fíli praised her, still regarding her peculiarly.

Her stomach flipped. He thought she was incredible, not just her karaoke skills.

“Oh, I had some inspiration,” Prim admitted, staring into Fíli’s eyes and willing him to figure out just how much she longed for him, but not able to say it with Kili and Tauriel standing beside them.

“Well, the drinks are on me!” she declared, walking over to the bar to complete her end of the bargain. Kili followed her, wanting to order food, or so he said. Kili had a tendency to get involved in things that weren’t necessarily his business, and whatever was happening between Fíli and Prim was no exception.

“I can’t help but feel like there were some underlying messages in your performance,” he inquired without looking at her.

“It was just a song, Kili,” she denied.

“Yeah, one about masturbating to thoughts of my brother!”

She looked at him fiercely. Was it so obvious to everyone but Fíli?

“See, you can’t even deny it!” he laughed.

“I’m not trying to deny anything,” she told him while peeling the label off of an empty beer bottle, beginning to get annoyed by his interrogation.

“Well, I bet he thinks of you whenever he touches himself,” Kili said point-blank, popping a chip in his mouth.

“Kili!” Prim said with alarm, smacking his shoulder. Although part of her did hope it was true.

Once Kili stopped laughing, Prim sighed and continued her thoughts out loud.

“It’s just so frustrating! I feel like I do everything but literally throw myself at him and nothing happens.” She placed money on the bar as the bartender handed her their drinks, “I just really care about him,” she admitted.

“I know you do. He knows you do- knows you love him even. He’s going to kill me for telling you but he does feel the same, he told me himself,” Kili explained.

Prim shot her head up to look at him, “You better not be joking right now, Kili,” being fully aware of the pranks he was capable of.

“I’m not, I swear!” he raised his hands in defence, and threw a quick look over his shoulder towards his brother before he continued, “He fancies you, he always has. That’s why he’s still single, and you are too, I reckon. You’re both just too stupid to do anything about it,”

“Oh, thanks for that,” Prim glared at him and took a chip from his plate, making Kili slide it closer to him protectively so she couldn’t steal any more of them.

“I’m not saying you’re stupid, Prim, but one of you needs to admit it or someone else is going to come along and ruin it. You see how women look at him,” he pointed out, and Prim’s heart sank at the thought.

Of course she saw how other women looked at him, and she couldn’t blame them. He was perfect.

Prim didn’t want anyone else and she hoped what Kili had said about Fíli’s feelings towards her were true. She grabbed the drinks and walked back to the table, her head reeling from the information.

Fíli beamed at her as she approached, his dimples revealing themselves beneath his facial hair, making her melt for him once again and forget the threat of anyone coming between them.

Fíli could hardly believe the act he’d just witnessed. He had run his hand over his face a few times to try and disguise his flush, beads of sweat appearing on his temples as he watched Prim’s risqué dance on stage, making him throb for her all over again.

He wondered if she truly felt what she’d sung in those lyrics, that she wanted him and only him, that she imagined him when she pleasured herself.

The thought alone drove him mad.

Her eyes had been locked on him the entire time she was up there, there was no disputing that.

Fíli enjoyed making her feel as frenzied and desperate as she made him, but it was getting increasingly difficult to keep resisting her. She knew how to play him as well.

And even though he really didn’t want to resist her anymore and simply give in to the yearning want, he knew he couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

Thorin and Kili were leading a special ops mission and although Fíli as a trainer was now exempt from having to deploy, he refused to sit at home while his uncle and brother went head first into danger.

He was going too.

Fíli had been deployed countless times since he was in his early twenties. He had seen battle and horrific things that people could never even begin to fathom. The thought of going to war again filled him with dread, but he needed to protect his family.

If he pursued things with Prim, he wouldn’t be able to stand being with her for such a short period of time and making her anxiously wait for him to get back. It would break both of them. It wouldn’t be fair to her, so they would just have to wait until this mission was over before they could give each other everything of themselves.

He watched her now as she leaned against the bar, talking and laughing with Tauriel, finding himself automatically mimicking every upturn of her mouth.

But her expression quickly changed when a man came up to her who was obviously a fan and hoping her words were directed at him. Prim politely shrugged him off, turning back to face Tauriel.

Fíli remained in his chair, carefully watching the interaction. He wouldn’t step in unless he needed to, and he prayed the idiot wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“That song was about me, wasn’t it doll,” the man slurred, stepping closer to her.

Prim laughed and said over her shoulder, “Don’t you wish,” and Fíli could tell the man was starting to get on her nerves.

It was difficult for Fíli to hear all that was being said, but the man seemed persistent in getting her attention. Prim said the odd thing to get him to leave her alone but tried her best to remain focused on Tauriel and ignore the pleas from the drunk.

Kili sat beside him and could see the fury rising up through his body. He patted Fíli on the back, “Easy brother,” he said, trying to assure him that she would be fine, knowing what damage Fíli could do to the other man if provoked.

It wasn’t until the man grabbed her ass and she flew around to punch him that Fíli stood from where he was seated and quickly made his way over. He knew Prim could hold her own, and judging by the way the guy was holding his bloody nose, she had done the job. Regardless, he needed to give this asshole a piece of his mind.

Fíli took hold of the man’s collar and held him upright after being folded over from Prim’s punch, his feet now barely touching the ground.

“Touch her or go near her again and you’ll regret ever laying eyes on her, mate,” Fíli spat in his face, his rage ready to erupt at any second.

The man nodded in a terrified manner, and scrambled away as soon as Fíli released him from his grip.

Fíli brushed his hair back out of his face and turned to Prim, who was shaking her hand out and looking slightly unsettled.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his anger now turned to worry, never wanting any harm to come to her.

“Yes, I’m fine. He’s just a prick.” She didn’t meet his eyes, her gaze cast down to observe the damage to her hand. Her knuckles were red and split from colliding with the man’s face and blood was beginning to creep up slowly.

Fíli took her hand in his and brushed his thumb lightly over her wounds before bringing his lips to kiss them gently.

The way she looked at him made his heart clench, almost like she was surprised at his affection towards her. He wanted to tell her he would do anything for her, would give her the world, and that it made him feel terrible that he allowed that guy to touch her like he did. But he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve stepped in sooner,” his voice full of regret at how he handled the situation.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Fi, you’re my hero,” she said with a mischievous look in her eye, her fire back and immediately replacing his anger and regret with desire for her.

“I can usually handle my own, but I don’t mind you protecting me,” she said playfully.

Her eyes were filled with lust as she looked up at him through her eyelashes, and he was reminded once again of what he wanted to do to her.

Before he acted on pressing his lips against hers, Fíli called to the bartender for some ice for her hand, as well as a shot of whisky for them both.

They all managed to enjoy the rest of the night, no one harassing Prim other than with lustful glances from multiple men, but she didn’t seem to notice. She was having too much fun and a good buzz was keeping the pain in her hand at bay.

She stuck close to Fíli, often touching him playfully on his arm or chest, and even occasionally on his thigh. Her hand landed there now, causing him to stop talking mid-sentence to look at her delicate fingers resting on his jeans.

Fuck, she was going to be the death of him.

His jaw hurt from clenching his teeth so much, a habit to keep his increasing thirst for her at bay.

The bar announced the last call, and they all were quite drunk aside from Fíli. He typically managed to stay sober whenever they went out, wanting to ensure they all got home safely and didn’t have to pay and wait for cabs to take them all to different places.

With Kili and Tauriel dropped off at Tauriel’s place, Fíli was now on his way to take Prim to her own apartment. She was definitely drunk, but not sloppy, in more of her usual flirtatious state that had tried to lure him into her bed on more than one occasion. Tonight was no exception.

She laughed as she fumbled with her keys in the door, dropping them onto the mat. Fíli stooped to pick them up and when he straightened himself Prim was leaning playfully against her door frame.

“You want me and it’s killing you,” she boldly stated, revealing a part of him that he wasn’t ready to divulge to her yet.

He shook his head and chuckled while he unlocked the door, not wanting to have this conversation with her now.

She waltzed in ahead of him, her body language full of confidence from the drinks she had consumed.

“Do you want a nightcap?” Prim asked, trying her best to get him to stay.

“No, thanks. I’m going to head out so you can get some sleep.” He had to fight to get the words out, wanting so badly to stay.

Prim squinted her eyes at him, annoyed at being rejected.

“Are you ever going to give me what I want, Fíli?” she asked, her voice laced with bitterness.

He couldn’t help but grin, desperately wanting to tell her just how badly he wanted her. How he wanted the same things as her. How easy it would be for him to roughly pull her pants down and slide into her, fucking her until she screamed his name over and over.

Especially when she acted like this.

He took a step toward her so he was hovering slightly above her body, and he saw the fearlessness in her eyes change to a softness, like she would submit to him in a second if given the chance.

“The problem is, Prim,” he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he stared into her, “If I kiss you now, I won’t be able to stop.”

She faltered for only a moment before lifting her chin up in an act to reinstate her poise.

“Then don’t stop,” she challenged him.

It took every fibre in his being to pull away from her, not wanting to do anything while she was under the influence of alcohol.

“No,” he shook his head and laughed when she threw her head back and growled in frustration.

“Why?” she snapped, her distaste at being rejected clear.

He never wanted to make her feel this way. She had to know she was his greatest desire, his biggest temptation.

Fíli remained in place, not daring to go close to her again.

“Because I want you to be fully aware when I do the things that I have planned for you.”

He watched her shift, his words sinking in and probably helping to sober her up. It was a promise of things to come. A hint at his intentions to explore her body.

“Are you good?” Fíli asked in a normal tone, needing to change the subject and wanting to make sure she was okay before he left.

“I’ll be good when you’re putting your hands all over me,” she countered, her voice raspy and still persistent in trying to get her way with him.

He chuckled at her determination, making his way to the door despite her wishes. She was relentless.

“Goodnight, Prim,” he called over his shoulder, not able to look at her knowing if he did she would draw him back inside.

He sat in his truck for a moment before driving away, his thoughts solely on how much he wished to tell her he wanted to be with her.

Fíli toyed with the idea of establishing the relationship with Prim anyway, being selfish for once in his life and indulging in her for whatever amount of time he could before he left, but quickly decided against it.

He loved Prim. And he only wanted to love her in the way she deserved, and loving her and then leaving her was not it.

He smiled at how easy it was for her to tempt him into almost doing things that were so out of his character. But once he was back home he would give in to anything and everything she offered, because fuck did he want to.

Fíli knew without a doubt that they would end up together someday, so what was waiting a couple of more months in the grand scheme of things? As far as he was concerned they had all the time in the world.

But right now all Fíli could think about was how Prim was probably getting into bed and fantasizing about him while she extinguished her fire, her hands exploring her own body in search of a high that one day would include him. He palmed at the growing tension in his pants, knowing that he was going home to do exactly the same.

—————

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Ukulele Practice (Captions)

Masterlist

Word count: 1,347

Warnings: Mixing of decade slang since the piece takes place between Episode 1 and 2 of WandaVision. Otherwise, nothing but fluff!

Taglist: @madamevirgo @cyanide-mustard @badasspolygenderfriend @maceidelic @alexpress @angelvinella

Tip Jar

~~~

    F minor, C, D minor, C… aaand done!

    As you finished strumming on the borrowed ukulele, clapping started up to your right. You looked up with a sheepish smile to see Vision grinning and applauding.

    “[Y/N],” the man exclaimed, “that was wonderful!”

    You felt yourself blush and ducked your head before your company could see it. Absentmindedly plucking the strings of Vision’s uke, you asked, “Good enough for a talent show?”

    Vision gave you pat on the shoulder. “Of course! A few more runs through to make it smooth and you’ll be right as rain.”

    And then I have to add vocals, you thought, which is a whole other can of worms to be opened.

    “Hello, charming husband, [Y/N]!” Wanda came trotting through the swinging kitchen door, a tray with water glasses and a pitcher in hand. Her hair was perfectly curled, her dress’s skirt perfectly flared and without a crease, and her house shoes perfectly shined. Perfect, as she and her husband often were.

    “Hello, darling wife!” Vision chippered back. He quickly hopped to his feet and began making his way over to help, only to earn a casual warning look that had him turning around and sitting back on the couch at your side. “How’s the cooking going, dear?”

You had given Vision a ride home after work that day and he’d invited you in for an impromptu ukulele lesson, so he was still dressed in his work clothes, minus the suit jacket. His hair was a little unkempt after a long day, just a tad fluffy with a section of bangs that he had to keep pushing out of his glasses-framed eyes. You kept your eyes trained on Wanda as you felt Vision’s knee brush yours and weight shift slightly behind you as he casually draped his arm over the back of the couch.

You offered the woman a somewhat awkward smile. “Hello, Wanda.”

Wanda gave you a cheerful smile back, then walked over to place the tray down on the coffee table. “I heard a bit of the ukulele from the kitchen. You’re going to be fab at the talent show.”

“Here’s to hoping,” you half-mumbled. You eyed the tray now that it was sitting in front of you while your hands continued to carefully run along the instrument’s neck and strings.

“And cooking’s going fine, Vis,” Wanda continued, turning her attention to her husband. “We’re having chicken and dumplings, green beans and adamine salad, and, for dessert, pie!” 

Just hearing about the meal made your mouth water; you didn’t notice how hungry you’d gotten over the couple hours of practice. You would probably go home to meat loaf leftovers.

Wanda apparently had other ideas. “You’ll be staying for dinner, right, [Y/N]?”

You looked up to meet her warm gaze. You shook your head and answered, “Oh, I couldn’t. I don’t want to intrude. I have food at home and work tomorrow…”

“Nonsense, [Y/N],” Vision joined in, “you’re welcome to stay. Food is almost done already, yes?”

“And I cooked enough for three,” Wanda pointed out in a sing-song tone.

You looked between the two of them, flustered by the sudden invitation. They made it clear that they weren’t having you turning away, though, so you gave a slight nod. “Well… alright then, if you’re sure.”

Wanda grinned and clapped once. “Wonderful! And maybe after dinner you can show me what you’ve been practicing for the past week.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, darling,” Vision said with a pleased nod. Then he gave you a playful nudge with his elbow. “You can play while Wanda and I cut a rug for practice. Ooh, or we could maybe jam together!”

“Maybe.”

“Why not now?” Wanda asked. “We have a little time until soup’s done warming. I’d be happy to show off my two left feet.”

Vision scoffed. “Darling, you’re a fine dancer.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. “Darling, neither of us is a fine dancer.”

Vision feigned offense before turning an expectant look your way. “What do you say, [Y/N]? Think you can manage to play without me?”

You looked between the couple again, then with a roll of your eyes and an exaggerated sigh, you readied the ukulele. “Fiiine.”

“Yes, right on!” Vision jumped to his feet, walked around the couch, and began shimmying his way to his wife’s side.

Wanda clapped again, then began swaying her way to meet Vision in the middle of the living room floor. When they reached together they assumed a slightly off dancing form. Apparently Wanda had been right about their dancing skills but neither of them seemed to mind.

You couldn’t help snickering at their silly display of affection before looking down at the instrument in your hands. You adjusted your grip a bit and settled your fingers into place. After a few strums to familiarize yourself, you started playing.

C… 

Playing the first portion of the song without Vision’s immediate aid, you focused quite hard—to the point where you couldn’t respond to any of his or Wanda’s chatting, so they leaned into their dancing and quiet conversation together. However, after making it through the first half with little error, you decided to risk a look at the couple. 

They had no form and lacked any sort of beat, but they were enjoying themselves and the just the sight of them being so happy made your insides turn to jelly. If you hadn’t been sure about whether you had a crush on the married couple before, you were certainly sure now. 

Vision caught you staring from over Wanda’s head and he grinned at you. “Look at you! Playing without assistance and without staring at your hands!”

Vision gave Wanda twirl so she could see the fruits of your and Vision’s labor. She gasped and then gave you a smile that made her nose scrunch up in the cutest way. She said, “That’s great! The people of Westview are going to love you.” 

Then she was spun back around and she and Vision kept dancing.

You went to reply, only for your hand to slip and butcher the song’s ending. You winced and paused while you recovered from the wipeout. “Not so good with playing and talking, clearly.”

Before you could start up again, Vision and Wanda separated and Vision walked over. He made a gesture for you to give him the instrument and once you did, he took his place next to you again and began strumming.

“That was completely my fault, apologies,” he said. He continued strumming and eventually picked up a random tune. “You did a fantastic job, though. The talent show will be a blast.”

“There’s still work to do but thank you.” 

You felt strange without something to distract yourself from your attractive hosts, like you were missing a shield in a very underrated and completely nonexistent battle. You watched Vision’s hands for a moment as his fingers easily flitted over the ukulele strings, then turned to say something to Wanda. Instead of standing where she had been previously in the center of the empty living room floor, she was now standing by couch and holding out a hand to her.

You gave her a confused look and she gave an encouraging nod towards her outstretched hand. “Come on then. Vision’s playing now, so you and I get to dance.”

Heat sparked at your eartips and cheeks, and you looked over to Vision, who was playing away and completely undisturbed. He glanced at you and chuckled. “Might as well. She won’t let you escape until you do.”

Wanda scoffed from your other side.

Seeing another dilemma that you obviously weren’t going to escape, you gave a little shrug and reached out to take Wanda’s hand.

Brrring!

Saved by the bell. Or the kitchen timer, rather. 

“Oh!” Wanda exclaimed, “That must be the chicken and dumplings! Too bad, [Y/N], we’ll have to dance another time.”

She left to the kitchen in a teasing wink.

You intestines tied themselves into bowties. 

[johnkrrasinski]

i want your midnights; 

full masterlist

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Word count: 1,749

Warning: fluff!! pure feelings 

Summary: this one’s written for the @mypoisonedvine​‘s festive writing challenge with the prompt “kissing at the new year’s eve count down.” there was only one person that you wanted to celebrate new years with and it was bucky barnes, the love of your life. 

a/n: not my best work but eh, i needed some holiday fluff with bucky. comment and reblog if you like! 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You straightened the skirt of your dress, trying to make yourself look presentable as you took a deep breath. To say you were nervous would be an outrageous understatement. You haven't played for a big crowd, let alone a crowd in awhile. The last time you were standing with identical emotions swirling through your stomach was when you were in your adolescent years. It wasn't because you grew bored of it, it was simply because you grew up and life had its funny way of surprising you. This occupation wasn't merely a job, it was a lifestyle. And this lifestyle didn't allow you to think that you'd ever have the chance to revisit this forgotten passion.

But here you were. About to perform one of your favourite songs on the grand instrument placed in the centre of the room and you feel like your stomach was sinking. You were good and you were adored. Suck it up and don't be a coward!

The ticking clock shows that it was three hours away from midnight. And the party was in full swing because it's New Year's Eve and Tony Stark was a man of flamboyant parties. And may God help you if he discovered your hidden talent.

"You should sing on New Year's Eve! Entertain the guests before midnight. What's better than live music at a party?"

"I don't know, Tony... I haven't sung in so long."

"You literally just did two minutes ago!"

"Okay first, that was in my room where no one was watching and second, you weren't supposed to see that!"

Tony walked up to the mini stage with a microphone in one hand and a glass of Champagne in the other.  "Ladies and gentlemen, can I have your attention? I shouldn't be asking, after all, you were invited to my party." The elicited a few chuckles from the guests. "Let me start by thanking all of you for coming here tonight..."

Tony's speech was muffled by the grasp around your waist by a familiar pair of arms. "Nervous?"

"Extremely."  You smiled despite the averment.

"Baby, don't worry. I've heard you sing and you have one of the loveliest voices in the world."

"You're just saying that cause you're my boyfriend, Bucky..."

"That's true, but the latter is also true."

You turned around in his arms and threw yours around his neck. "Thank you for the encouraging words. I feel a bit lighter knowing that you'll be in the crowd."

"My pleasure, darling." He kissed you with his hands still on your waist, holding you close but Tony's words disrupted your moment.

"We have a special and exclusive performance tonight. Please welcome, my friend, ____ ____!“

The soft claps welcomed you and it was your turn to take the stage.

"Good evening, everybody. I'm y/n and I hope you enjoy my performance tonight."

A sprightly "whew!" was heard and you instantly recognized Clint's voice.

Your fingers pushed the first few notes of the intro and the sound immediately changed the atmosphere in the room.

"There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby..." You sang to the microphone. "Candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor, you and me from the night before but..."

"Don't read the last page but I stay when you're lost and I'm scared and you're turning away, I want your midnights but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day." You still hadn't dared to gaze at the audience so you focused on looking down on the black and white keys.

"You squeezed my hand three times in the back of the taxi, I can tell that it's gonna be a long road. I'll be there if you're the toast of the town babe," you didn't know why but your heart drove your gaze to the crowd and you instantly found the person you were singing for. "...Or if you strike out and you're crawling home..."

"Don't read the last page but I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes..." You didn't look away. You couldn't. Not when the love of your life was staring right back at you with those warm steel blue eyes. "I want your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day." You meant every word.

"Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you, hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you, hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you." This time your eyes wandered to the crowd, familiar and strange faces staring back at you with contented looks and you hoped these words would cling to them.

"...And I will hold on to you." Because they did to you and you did to the man standing a few feet away from you but your hearts and your minds remained connected.

"Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere, please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere..." A brief flashback played in your mind; the lovers turned strangers, the friends turned enemies, the loved ones turned ghosts. You barely heard from them anymore these days, but you could still remember their laughters, an epitome of the good memories. You hoped that this dynamic ragtag group of vigilantes would never turn into one of those tragedies. Another buried name that goes up to the monument.  

"There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and polaroids on the hardwood floor," your heartbeat hummed the euphonious melody, "...You and me forevermore." There he was. Smiling at you. Always smiling because you were the light of his life and his simpers were genuine and frequent now.

"Don't read the last page, but I stay when it's hard or it's wrong or we're making mistakes, I want your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day, hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you, and I will hold on to you." You chanted the closing lyrics and when the last note resonated, the guests' claps were louder this time, invigorating your confidence.

Everyone returned to their own things; catching up with their friends, laughing on the couch and drinking by the bar and Natasha was even standing behind it like a professional part-time bartender. Some were slow dancing and the others are already a little too drunk.

"That was beautiful, doll."

"You think so?"

"I know so. You got a gift, you shouldn't hide it from the world."

"I'm not trying to hide it, Bucky. I just... I didn't have the time with the world-saving and all. And music makes people happy, but it doesn't save lives."

"Well, if I don't know when I'll see you play again, then I'm glad at least we got tonight. And you're wrong, doll. You certainly saved me."

"Your words will be the death of me, Barnes."

-

Everyone gathered around, watching the big screen displaying the countdown to midnight. As the numbers go down, the more energized people become. Your arms were tangled with Bucky's, not wanting to be far away from the person you loved the most seconds before the year finalizes its chapter.

For a moment there, you felt happy. You looked around to see your teammates with smiles on their faces, stress-free and humans. This job hadn't allowed you to be just a human living a normal life. But tonight was one of the rare moments where all of you could just be normal people celebrating holidays.

And then there was Bucky, the man who had lived for a century, whose entire life was stolen away from him, and the man that your heart chose to fall in love with, and you were lucky enough that he chose you too. You had spent two Christmases together, and now you were entering another new chapter together, and there was no one else you'd rather wake up with an awful hangover with. There was no one else who would be there to give you Advil in the morning and deal with your mess.

5,4,3,2,1...

"Happy New Year!"

You and Bucky kiss, as all the cheers and noises, faded into the background. Bucky grabbed you close by the waist, and you had your arms around his neck trying to hold onto his lips as long as possible. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling all the overwhelming affection you had for him. Bucky felt it too deep in his bones, who would've thought that despite all the atrocities his hands had to commit, someone as beautiful and wonderful as you would love him despite it all? Would kiss him on New Year's Eve and would stick with him through another year?

"Happy new year, darling."

"Happy new year." You couldn't fake the smile forming on your face. “I can’t believe it’s our second New Year’s together.”

“There’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my New Years with.”

“Are you saying you’re willing to spend the rest of your New Years dealing with my cranky hangover moods and pulling my hair back when I throw up?”

“As long as it’s you, I’m ready for pretty much anything. You’ve had my back and picked up my mess when I was at my worst, doll and I didn’t deserve it, but you did so without asking for anything, and I’m willing to do the same for you.”

You nearly teared up at his words, the past two years hadn’t always been the smoothest road with rainbows and butterflies for you two. You stuck with Bucky through his nightmares, panic attacks and his therapy sessions and you loved him despite all his open wounds and permanent scars, and Bucky had never felt luckier to have fallen in love with you too along the way. It began with a friendship and bloomed into something deeper, and the last two New Years that you had spent together reminded you that you could walk through every hurricane that life threw at you as long as you were together.

“You always knew how to calm down my fears and lift up my spirit and I’m eternally grateful for that.”

“Guess we’re just perfectly imperfect for each other, huh?”

“Guess we are.” He kissed you again with a huge smile on his face and zest for writing the first page of 365 pages with you.

[nanasparadise]

What if the villain's of jojo had a Christmas song karaoke battle to get attention from their darling? Thank you!

“Christmas Karaoke” JJBA villains x gender-neutral reader (fluff, headcannons)

 Thank you so much for your suggestion, it’s such a fun idea!! I hope you like the result:3 Enjoy the upcoming Christmas days and stay safe! <3

Summary: It’s Christmas and darling decides to have a karaoke night with the JoJo villains (Part 1 to 5). Unbeknownst to you, they are desperately fighting for your attention through their performances.

TW: no real trigger warning, just some slight yandere behaviour.

I do not condone any yandere behaviour in real life.

Dio (Part 1)

Dio from Phantom Blood is annoyed by the idea of singing in front of other people.

He eyes the other competitors deprecatingly, scrunching his nose in disgust.

But then his gaze falls on your form, watching at everyone with big eyes.

Why are you looking at any other person than him?

He can’t stand the thought that anyone else than him has your precious attention.

So the Brit pulls himself together and walks confidently to the karaoke machine.

Dio chooses a classic such as Jingle Bell Rock or Rocking around the Christmas Tree

The blond hopes to attract your gaze, staring at him lovingly and gifting him one of your dazzling smiles.

After his performance (which was mediocre at best, but he tries to tell himself that it was spectacular), you do approach Dio with a grin on your face and offer him a high-five for having been outside his comfort zone.

Dio has wished for a much more intimate touch (such as a peck on the cheek or a hug), but for now, he is appreciating your sweet and supportive gesture.

“Pff, I’m only singing since none of you can do it properly, naturally.”

“Dio, that was awesome! I’m so proud of you!” “Thank you Y/N, I couldn’t let any of these morons hurt your ears with their yelling.”

Dio (Part 3)

Now, Dio from Stardust Crusaders on the other hand is the star of the night.

He craves and loves all of the attention, but especially yours.

The vampire has no qualms to show off and smash more than one song.

After all, he has to show everyone that he’s superior and that’s why you will choose him.

The blond bellows Last Christmas (c’mon, he already looks like George Michael, he was born for this!) with all his being while doing a whole choreography.

His eyes keep searching yours, wanting all of your attention.

Your adorable cheers and little dancing only reinforce Dio as he goes all out.

After performing, he confidently walks to you.

He easily swoops your smaller form up and gives you a passionate kiss.

Afterwards, he grins at your surprised and flushed expression.

“Move out of the way! Now comes the real star of the show.” “Dio, you can’t just kiss me out of the blue in front of everyone!” “And why not? Don’t you think I deserve a little reward after my performance?”

Kars

Kars doesn’t sing. Like, at all. And when the other competitors taunt him for that, he simply threatens them.

He refuses to lower himself to these inferior creatures and their pathetic habits.

Instead, he looks at you: your beaming face and innocent happiness move the pillarman

He had never thought that he would catch feelings for a human, but here he is, bathing in your expression and wanting to gain your attention.

To him, you are perfect: something he has been striving for years.

That’s why he is engaging in this whole scenario which just seems ridiculous to him.

Even though Kars doesn’t sing, he still finds a way to grab your attention: the pillarman decides to sit next to you and ask you all about the human traditions of Christmas.

Now he couldn’t care less about human holidays, but hearing your eager words (which are better than any music could ever be) makes Kars all warm inside.

Finally, his perfect darling gives him all the attention he wants and needs (after all, he is a god).

“I don’t sing. If you ask me again, I’ll eat you.” “So, you humans kiss each other when you are standing under a mistletoe? What a foolish tradition. If I want to kiss you, I don’t need a plant over me, you can be sure of that.”

Yoshikage Kira

Karaoke night is for Kira absolutely horrible.

The man hates to stand out, no matter if it’s in a positive or negative way.

How is he supposed to sing in front of everyone? All eyes would be on him, disturbing his peace…

Though he does want the attention of one particular person.

Of course, he’s attracted to your hands (it was the first he noticed when he saw you), but Kira isn’t only fascinated by them: he loves your warm charisma and the way you are always there for him and listening, no matter how boring his day was.

Reminding himself about your adorable behaviour, he decides to sing, just for you.

His performance is quite shy and restrained, not wanting to stand out too much, which is why he chooses a laid-back Christmas song such as Driving Home for Christmas or Wonderful Christmas time.

But you still cheer him on, a smile plastered on your face, which makes Kira blush a bit (which he would never admit).

After his performance, the man goes to you, his face remaining stoic.

You look at him with astonishment, not believing that the Kira just performed!

As a reward, you hug him and give him words of encouragement.

Kira enjoys your attention and slightly leans into your touch, but not enough so that his apathetic façade would crumble.

“Guess I really have to sing in front of these people…”

“Wow Kira, I’d never expected you to perform!” “Well, even I am spontaneous from time to time.”

 Diavolo

Diavolo prefers to stay inside with no one around him (you being the only exception of course).

So being surrounded by all these people isn’t ideal to him, especially when he has to sing in front of them.

But luckily, the Italian exudes confidence out of every fibre of his body.

The man can’t stand that so many pair of eyes are competing for your attention. He should be the only one to lay his eyes on your form.

Which is why Diavolo takes a bold music choice such as Mistress Christmas: he wants to stand out, so that all of your attention and affection will be on him.

His performance is quite energetic and he has a pleasant voice, which you wouldn’t have guessed.

Your gaze is filled with admiration, making Diavolo smirking internally.

After the song you immediately go to him and compliment his talent.

Diavolo enjoys your reaction thoroughly, thinking he has finally showed everyone you like his company the most.

He gets a bit cocky as he claps your hands while talking to you.

 “Diavolo, I never knew you were this talented! You should sing more often.” “I can always sing to you, just maybe in a more private setting…”

“Huh? Why are you grabbing my hands?” “Isn’t it obvious?”

Bonus: Doppio

This sweetheart is so incredibly nervous!

Not only is he scared to do karaoke, but he has to do it in front of you!

The freckled man constantly blushes and is overtaking by his nervousness.

You flash him a reassuring grin across the room, which gives Doppio enough strength to overcome his fear.

No one has treated him with such innocent kindness as you had.

Doppio picks a sweet song such as Let it snow or Holly Jolly Christmas, wanting to pay you back with your kind nature.

During the performance, he constantly stutters and mixes up the words.

Eventually, he leaves the stage with his face being as red as a tomato.

You didn’t mind his rather poor performance, as you keep telling him that he did a fantastic job.

Doppio is overwhelmed by your kind-hearted words and blushes even more.

You like his adorable expression and decide to give the man a peck on the cheek.

The Italian is over the moon by your touch, eyes beaming with glee (and not noticing the dark stares of the other competitors which are comparable to daggers).

“Calm down Doppio! You can do this, the boss gave you permission, you can impress Y/N!”

“Doppio, you are so cute!” “Y-You really think so?”

 Now, after everyone has sung at least one song (except for Kars who still thinks karaoke is stupid), you are left with the decision to crown one winner. Nervously, you bite on your lip. How could you choose one? You genuinely enjoyed everyone’s performance. You don’t want to hurt the others feelings by saying one was better than the rest… You stand there thinking, all of the men staring at you expectantly. Some of them have already provoked tensions (notably Dio) by saying, they are obviously the best and therefore deserve your praise and attention alone. No matter how you decide, there will be a fight afterwards…

[ricksbowen]

Could you write an imagine where Ricky and y/n “hate each other” but actually have feelings for each other and it comes out because at a cast party they’re playing truth or dare or 7 minutes in heaven or something? Sorry if that’s confusing 😂

few more minutes | r.b

IN WHICH: ricky and y/n’s minutes in heaven needs a bit more than seven minutes.

INSPIRATION: feel good inc. — gorillaz

WARNING: this is pretty heated and there’s underage drinking.

A/N: trust me babe, your request wasn’t annoying at all <3 also, idk if i’m even allowed to write smut for ricky so i just wrote a make-out scene.

“Truth or dare? What are we, 12?”

“Apparently,” you heard Gina hum from beside you, leaning back on her elbows as she eyed the others situate themselves in a circle.

“It’ll be fun! Promise,” Carlos encouraged, clapping his hands excitedly as he placed an empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle.

“Yeah, stop being so pessimistic, bubbles,” Ricky remarked from across you, the scowl that appeared on your face enough to make him grin.

It was both your’s and Ricky’s fault why the whole cast was together on a Saturday night with alcohol, karaoke, and movies.

Miss Jenn’s suggestion of ‘hanging out to get to know each other better’ didn’t go as innocent as she might’ve thought. You were the designer for all of the sets, for Miss Jenn had found you walking out of detention for spray painting a mural in one of East High’s many empty staircases.

She made you her artist, as long as you promised her to never vandalize the school again — and you made that promise.

Already, you were known as a trouble maker. You didn’t fit in with any of the ‘theatre nerds’ ( a name you gave them before you fully knew them ) at first, but you all got along.

The only person that was never fond of you was Ricky Bowen.

You had met him due to your job in the play, and it was obvious since the beginning that you both couldn’t stand each other. You went out of your way to piss him off, whether it was by saying little remarks or giving him stupidly lovey-dovey nicknames that made him flush red. Whether it was with anger or surprise, you didn’t know, but he did the same thing to you. His favorite nickname for you was ‘bubbles,’ for he had caught you getting sidetracked from painting by blowing bubbles.

“Carlos, hurry and spin it before Y/N and Ricky start making out,” Ej commented with a laugh, his arm around Nini as she smiled at his joke from behind her red solo cup.

“Fuck off,” you groaned, the group erupting in laughs at your words. They always teased you and Ricky about the sexual tension that was almost suffocating at this point.

“Okay, I’m spinning!” Carlos announced, reaching towards the bottle and spinning it with one flick.

In a span of twenty minutes, Carlos had given you a lap dance, Ej’s hair was tied into little buns on top of his head, Big Red had done a handstand for five minutes straight, Ricky had to kiss Ej for specifically 23 seconds, and you had pulled your bra out from under your shirt and put it back on in a quick move. You were all giggly at this point, just a group of teens laughing at each other as they drank.

Big Red grinned as his spin landed on you— he had something up his sleeve. “Y/N!” Big Red sing-songed, making you roll your eyes with a smile. “Your turn! Truth or dare?” he asked dramatically, leaning back and nearly falling over as he did.

“Better give me something good, Redonovich.” You smirked, bringing the beer bottle back up to your lips and taking a swig. “Give me a dare, Reddie.”

Seb clapped excitedly, motioning for Big Red to move closer to him. “Oh my God! Big Red—“ His words were cut off as he whispered into Big Red’s ear, everyone else leaning in to try and listen. Seb moved away from Big Red, a crazy grin on his face that Big Red matched.

Clearing his throat dramatically ( he was a dramatic drunk ), Big Red pointed between you and Ricky, who had been quiet ever since you pulled the bra trick in front of him. “You and Ricky. Seven minutes in heaven in Ej’s room.”

“Wait— What?” Ej protested, Gina shushing him. Even she couldn’t help the growing smile on her face.

“Are you serious?” you asked with a laugh, looking at Big Red to see if there was a hint of teasing or joking in his face. Nothing; he was dead serious.

“Are you chickening out, Y/N?” Ricky snarked, making you glare at him as you cocked a brow.

Gina nudged you gently. “If you don’t wanna do it, we’re not forcing you.”

You looked at her for a moment, muttering a small, ‘fuck it,’ under you breath before nodding. You had nothing to lose, and life was too short.

Cheers of agreement rang through the group as you stood up, walking up to Ricky and offering a hand. He took it with an annoyed sigh, and you tightened your grip on his hand as a way to tell him, ‘stop being a dick.’

The both of you walked to Ej’s room, grumbles of, ‘This is stupid,’ and ‘If you breathe near me, I swear,’ being shared between you both. The group followed you, Ej’s strict rules of, ‘Don’t do anything on my bed or I swear—“

“Seven minutes in the room, babes! Unless you need more later,” Carlos said with a laugh, leaning against Ej’s door as you both stepped in.

“Don’t forget to pull out!” Was the last thing you heard before they closed the door on you, their laughs and remarks muffled by the door.

“This is bullshit.” You sat next to the door, legs criss-crossed as you ran a hand through your hair.

“You’re telling me. I’d rather be with anyone other than,” Ricky scrunched his nose for extra effect, “you.” He sat on Ej’s bed, letting himself fall back onto the neatly made bed.

“Holy shit,” you laughed humorlessly to yourself, standing up and walking closer to him. “Why do you hate me so much? I haven’t done shit to you!”

“Says you!” Ricky used his elbows to prop himself up, glaring at you as he did. “Ever since the day we met, you’ve been on my ass for every little thing! It’s just, ‘Wow Ricky, sing better!’ or ‘Holy shit, your dance moves suck!’”

“You’re not any better! How many times have you purposely scared me while I was painting so that I could mess up? Or those stupid little nicknames you gave me— what’s up with that?” you questioned, watching as he stood up from the bed with a scowl.

“Shut up.”

“Or what?” you challenged, chest touching his as you looked at him. Your eyebrow cocked up, a mocking smirk on your mouth “Aw, did I strike a—“

Ricky pressed his mouth to yours, his hands holding the sides of your face. You kissed back with the same amount of fervor, lips moving quick against his as all the sexual frustration you had towards him was let out. You moved closer, leading him backwards until he fell back onto the bed.

Ricky’s chest heaved, and you straddled him with a triumphant smile. You leaned back down, kissing him gently ( which totally caught him off guard ) before trailing kisses down his neck and leaving marks.

“Never thought you’d be the dominant type.”

“Shut up, Ricky.”

Ricky let out a breathless laugh that immediately stopped when he felt you grind down, his teeth catching his bottom lip to stop the moan that threatened to escape.

“What— cat got your tongue?” you remarked, moving down harder against him to try and get a reaction out, to no avail. He was keeping his noises back, trying to avoid giving you the satisfaction of hearing him.

So that was the game he wanted to play.

Before you could continue to be on top, you felt him pull you down, switching the positions in an instant as he hovered over you. His lips met yours once again, and you tugged at the bottom of his shirt to remove it. The clothing was soon thrown somewhere in the room, long forgotten and quickly joined by your own shirt.

Ricky swore he forgot to breathe when he saw you toss your shirt over your shoulder.

“Ricky?” you asked, suddenly nervous as you looked up at him. He shook his head, pressing his lips to yours quickly.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Your cheeks bloomed red, making Ricky grin sheepishly as he brought your lips back up to his. Ricky’s lips trailed down, down, down, leaving a mark right above your breast and listening to the panting moan you let out before he moved back up to your face.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked softly.

“Never been more sure,” you replied, looking him in the eyes before kissing him again.

Your hands reached down to his jeans, the need taking over the both of you as you tried to get his clothes off. You giggled softly when he cursed his jeans, his hands reaching down to try and pull them off of him until—

“Do you guys need extra minutes?”

Big Red’s voice broke you both apart for just a second, chests heaving and breaths fanning over each other as Ricky gave you a wide-eyed look.

“Give us like, an hour!” you replied, hearing Ricky snort and try not to let out a laugh. From behind the door, you heard the groans of your cast.

“Pay up, Seb,” said Gina’s voice, victory evident in her voice. “I told you that they were gonna need more time.”

“I can’t believe they’re gonna have sex on my bed,” followed Ej’s voice.

“I’m gonna need new sheets.”

—

TAGS: @tomshufflepuff, @myrandom-fandomlife, @softpeteparker, @sarcarstic-space-weirdo

[andshedoesitagain]

Taking care of you.

Spencer Reid x Reader      Words - 2440

@paracosmoses​ asked - “ Hey, Dylan! I hope you're safe 💚 I absolutely melted while reading "I'll carry you", so I wanted to request a reid imagine (totally fine if you don't feel like it): reader being a bau member who had confessed feelings for reid and he'd rejected them (even tho he felt the same). One night out at a karaoke with the team, reader gets drunk and sings like goodnight n go/imagine/rem (i'm just a sucker for ari but thought i'd be fitting), and they talk.. Idk i'm terrible w plots but i trust you hehe.”

///Thank you so much for this request!! I hope you’re safe too and thank you for the compliment, writing this was a lot of fun and the plot you came up with was great!! So I hope you enjoy it :) ///

Warnings - Alcohol & Vomit

It had been no surprise when you and Spencer had gotten paired up to do a late shift, paperwork that had been piled up for days, mysteriously placed on your desk just as everybody was rushing out the door to get home. It wasn’t like you minded much though, you practically spent every waking moment with your curly haired teammate, having become close when you had first joined the BAU, and the others had obviously taken notice.

Looking up from the last file in front of you, you were met with a gentle smile and a hand stretched out your way, raising a brow you let out a confused chuckle. “Yes?” 

“I’m going to walk you home,” Spencer stated, his hand still outstretched. Taking a quick glance to the file, you quickly signed off on it before swivelling your chair to look at the man in front of you. Shaking your head amusedly, you took his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “You don’t need to walk me home, I know we live close, but I imagine you’re wanting to get home as much as I am.” You said, picking up your jacket and bag, looking at him over your shoulder. 

“No, it’s okay, I like knowing you got home safe anyway.” This made you smile, looking back to the ground to avoid him seeing the small flush on your cheeks. “Okay, if you insist,” dramatically you dragged out your words, gazing at the small smile on his face as he pulled on his own jacket. 

You had spent most of the walk joking around with him, trying to ignore the fleeting bumping of hands, or how he’d pull you to the side when you were just away to walk through a puddle. Every little thing making you overthink, although you did your best to dismiss the butterflies in your stomach, although they only continued to build as you contemplated the confession on your mind.

It wasn’t until you finally reached your front door, did you feel your chest begin to ache. “We’re here, and your safe, so I think I’ve done my duties,” Spencer joked, your own little chuckle slipping out.

Taking a deep breath, you felt a surge of confidence. “I uh, I have something to tell you.” The words came out quick, rolling out your mouth before you really had a moment to think about them. Spencer nodded, taking his hands out of his pockets. “I don’t want this to change anything about us, I just need to tell you, to just get it off my chest, okay?”

Reid nodded, his expression soft except the slight furrow of his brow. You took another deep breath. “I have feelings for you.” As soon as the words came out, you wanted to swallow them back up, even more so when Spencer looked to the ground, avoiding your eyes completely as he tried to slink away. For the first time you felt like you couldn’t read him, and it almost hurt. 

“I-I’m sorry.” The words hit you like a truck, a type of blind confusion you weren’t used to smacked across your face. Spencer still hadn’t look back at you, “I can’t, it’s just not—” As he stuttered his way through his words, you cut him off, nausea and embarrassment both taking over your body. 

“It’s fine, never mind,” you weakly laughed, “just pretend I never said anything, I’m tired, that’s all, not thinking straight.” He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Taking that as your queue you turned around to open your front door, the shaking in your hands causing you to fumble with your keys, “shit,” you mumbled in frustration. 

As you got the front door open, you turned to Spencer who stood still in the same place, a look of guilt painting his face, “goodnight, Spence,” voice cracking you smiled at him before closing the door. 

The next few days were difficult, a new type of stiffness now surrounding the both of you, and you had taken every chance you could to avoid being alone with him, in truth you felt guilty, having drove the wedge between the both of you in the first place. Despite the tension, Spencer still sent you soft smiles from across his desk, and you still found a cup of coffee placed on your own desk every morning, the same little smiley face drawn on as he usually did, but things still felt different. 

Your other teammates had also felt the subtle shift of atmosphere, them all send quizzing looks your way, JJ even pulling you to the bathroom at one point to talk. Awkwardly you stumbled through what happened, although instead of the look of awkward sympathy you had been expecting to get, she instead held one of confusion, biting her lip as pushed her hair behind her ear, muttering a quiet, “well that doesn’t make sense.” Though she quickly brushed it off when you brought it up.

“Let’s go to a karaoke night,” Penelope randomly proposed that night, your team all pursing their lips sceptically, “aww, come on, it’ll be fun, and it’ll be a nice change of scenery from our usual bar!” Looking at you almost pleadingly, you titled your head slightly back at her before sighing. 

“Sure, I’m up for it.” Sitting back in your chair, you smiled at Penelope who clapped her hands excitedly, glancing over you caught a pair of brown eyes, Spencer gingerly staring at you before looking over to Penelope.

“I’ll come too,” Spencer said trying to play it off nonchalantly as he was met with the others looks of confusion. Soon enough the others agreed, and you found yourself driving towards the quaint but flashy karaoke place. 

Everybody had ordered drinks as soon as they got in, and you hadn’t held back, practically throwing them down as you sat with the others, causing Derek to pat you on the shoulder, “woah slow down there, kid.” The others also took notice of your quickly emptying glasses, Reid looking at them like he was counting them before shooting a slightly worried glance your way. 

One by one your team went up and sung on the karaoke machine, everybody clapping along with whatever song even if it was slightly out of time and messy. Resting your face in your hand, you smiled happily and slightly drunkenly at Penelope while she sung up on the stage, hollering as your vision danced and blurred.

When she came down, she accepted a round of high fives from everybody at the table, before JJ spoke, “C’mon Y/N it’s your turn now!” They all clapped and gently nudged up to the stage as you staggered slightly, laughing as you clambered on to the stage. 

Absentmindedly you scrolled through the little screen containing the songs until you found one you knew, “I love this one!” You exhaled grinning over at your teammates who were all still shouting their words of encouragement. 

The music kicked in through the speakers and you found yourself swaying to the music, every few moments squinting to look at the screen through fuzzy eyes. “Tell me why you gotta’ look at me that way, you know what it does to me,” you sung into the mic, your gaze searching for a familiar head of curls, locking eyes as you continued. “I got you, I got you dreamin’, close your eyes and your screaming.” Staggering through the words, you still swayed not looking away from Spencer, whose cheeks were almost as red as yours.

Cheering still rung throughout the room, “Oh why’d you have to be so cute, it’s impossible to ignore you, ah,” all shyness was abandoned due to your stomach full of alcohol, “why must you make me laugh so much, it’s bad enough we get along so well, just say goodnight and go, oh, oh, oh.” Spencer hadn’t taken his eyes off you, shifting in his seat as worry slowly furrowed into his brow, stressfully watching as you continued to stagger and sway. 

It wasn’t until you felt a burning in your throat did you pause, stomach churning as you rushed off the stage. You had practically thrown yourself into the bathroom, retching over the toilet for a couple of minutes, before sliding down the wall, dizzy and your body aching all over. 

Catching a glimpse of your self in the mirror, you saw how red and patchy your face as well as how swollen your lips had become. The bitter taste of alcohol and vomit coated your mouth, as you just rested your head against the wall, your eyes fluttering close tiredly. 

A gentle knock from the door, alerted you, “it’s occupied right now,” you croaked out, your throat still scratchy and sore. Despite your words, the handle slowly went down, and Spencer poked his head around it, eyes widening as he looked at the state you were in. 

“Y/N! Are you alright?” Kneeling beside you, he placed his hands on either side of your face, feebly you rolled your eyes open. 

“Hey Spence, not really,” you slurred, “I’m really drunk and really sorry,” as nonchalantly as you spoke, your face still scrunched up in his hands, reaching up to pull on his sleeve you spoke again, “like really sorry that I ruined everything, and I’m really sorry I’m in love with you, it’s okay you don’t love me back, really it is.” Eyes beginning to water, Spencer’s own eyes widened once again. 

“Hey, hey it’s ok,” pushing your hair behind your ear with his finger, his tone was soothing and careful as he spoke again. “Let’s get you home, okay?” Although his words weren’t really registering as you just wanted to fall asleep right there and then, you nodded letting your hand fall to the ground as you let go of his sleeve. 

Practically lifting you to your feet, you put your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes once again, as you both walked out of the bathroom. Placing you on a chair, you heard mumbles coming from him and your other co-workers just being able to make out, “…taking her home…” the rest all sounding garbled in your head. Your jacket being placed over your shoulders, you felt hands calmly pushing your arms into the sleeves before moving away. You could also just make out Penelope’s voice near one ear, as well as feeling a small kiss being placed on top of your head, and even with your eyes closed you pulled a tired smile. 

Before you knew it, you were on your couch, the moments from the karaoke place to your house missing from your memories. Opening your eyes once again you smiled at Spencer who was knelt in front of you his voice fading in, “…Y/N hey, here’s a glass of water, take a few sips for me,” his voice was patient and soft as you took a drink, the water cool against your hot throat. “Awesome,” he said as you placed the glass down. 

Blinking a few times, you surveyed your living room, “How’d I get here?” You asked, looking back to him. 

“I drove you, but you have to get some sleep now, can you get your jacket off while I go and find a bowl?” You nodded in reply pushing the jacket from your shoulders and dumping it on the ground. Hearing some clambering, Spencer emerged back bowl in hand, he placed it down by the couch, hoping you’d take initiative if you were going to be sick again. “Okay, lie down on your side, slowly,” he directed, his tone still patient as you shuffled around and lied down, Spencer adjusting the pillow under your head.

“Are you gonna stay?” You mumbled, struggling to keep your eyes open. “Of course,” you heard just as you slowly slipped to sleep. 

As soon as the sun hit your eyes, you groaned, your head pounding violently as you pushed yourself up onto your elbow. Looking down your eyes squinted at the blanket tucked around you, even more when you looked down to the shoes still on your feet. However, you couldn’t help your expression of shock when you looked over to the other couch in your room, Spencer splayed out across it, yet facing you, fast asleep. 

He also still had his shoes on, his jacket placed neatly over the back of the couch. Swinging your legs over the couch, as silently as possible you pulled off your shoes, before tiptoeing over to where he was. Sitting next to him you softly poked his shoulder, “Spencer,” he continued to sleep, “Spence, wake up.”

Finally, his brown eyes fluttered open, slightly bloodshot, purple bags standing out under his eyes. Sitting up, he rubbed at his eyes, smiling warm-heartedly at you, “hey,” he whispered. 

You couldn’t help but smile back, “good morning.”

“Are you feeling better?” He ran a hand through his hair, eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down. 

“My head feels like it’s on fire,” you laughed timidly, pushing your own hair behind your ear, memories of last night slowly pouring in. Gasping you put your head in your hands. “Oh my god,” your eyes darted back up to him, cheeks red, “I am so sorry about last night, I don’t know what I was thinking, just forget anything I said…or did, oh god.” You placed your face back into your hands, too embarrassed to look at him.

This time he took one of your hands away from your face, “no, I’m sorry.” Looking to the ground in thought, “when you told me about how you felt, I didn’t know how to respond, or how to feel,” slowly he rubbed small circles into your hand, as you listened intently, “I never expected you to feel the same, so I tried to push away how I felt about you.” Gradually, your eyes widened, your mouth dry. 

“You feel the same way?” The words came out slowly, like you were still processing them while you spoke. 

Spencer mumbled, “yeah, and I should’ve told you that night, I don’t even know why I didn’t, it was just all so shocking, and then it felt like you were avoiding me, and then I thought it was too late,” he rambled, your expression softening. Without thought you threw yourself into him, wrapping your arms him in an embrace, “I would totally kiss you right now, but even I don’t wanna taste my own mouth right now.” Laughing, he held you tight, pulling back to push your hair behind your ears with both of his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“This’ll do for now.” He mumbled, matching your grin and soft eyes.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Band Sessions: Dowoon

Pairing: Yoon Dowoon x reader

Genre: band au / university au / fluff

Warnings: none

Word count: 2681

Thank you to everyone who supported Band Sessions.

Index: Jae | Sungjin | Young K | Wonpil | Dowoon

It was the biggest scoop thus far for you to take on as a reporter for the campus newspaper. You had only transferred to this university at the start of the semester, and since the roles in the editing room had been well established before you came along, you had been lucky enough to be writing a weekly column as it was. Still, there was only so much of your journalism skills you could exercise in the highlights reel you had been assigned to.

So when a seasoned writer for the paper, Maggie, had fallen over skiing in the weekend, well, you had been worried for her, of course.

And secretly grateful for the opportunity to snag some of her workload.

“This is a big deal, Y/N. Day6 won another band competition on Friday night and we need someone to interview the members and write about their growing population on and off campus as a band.”

“I can do it,” you assured your editor-in-chief with a confident nod.

Gerrie sighed and looked around at the rest of the hustle in the office and then back at your face. You could tell he was hoping he could rely on someone else, perhaps someone who had already proven their talent in his eyes.

But this was going to be your moment. You had been accepted onto the newspaper team because of the stellar recommendations from your past university. There, you had usually held the third most important story of each edition. You had even saved the dying campus cafeteria after writing about their surprising culinary art.

So writing about a campus band would be a piece of cake.

“Alright, you have four days to interview them and present your article to me. It’s running in our next release.”

“I’ll get it to you on time, Gerrie,” you confirmed and picked up your notebook you had been scribbling in, shifting up out of the chair in front of the senior.

“Y/N,” he called out and you stopped to look back at Gerrie. His gaze pierced yours. “Don’t mess this up, I’m counting on you.”

“I won’t let you down, boss.”

Returning to your desk, you let an elated smile cross over your lips momentarily. You were wired up, excited to finally let your reporting prowess shine. Glancing down at the name written in the middle of the page of your notebook, you picked up your pen and circled Day6 a couple of times.

Oh yes, this would be amazing.

Once you found out who Day6 even was, that is.

Thankfully, it was never all that hard to research anything and your lack of knowledge about the five member band had been replaced with notes on all of their current accolades, how many gigs they had played this year, a fansite address, and most importantly, where their studio was located. You had even contacted the band over their official Instagram account and arranged an interview for the following evening. On your way over, you hummed along to one of their songs, Better Better, playing on Spotify through your phone, feeling more than ready to meet the band now known as regional finalists.

You could tell upon the studio door opening that this title was a big deal for them.

Sungjin, their leader, laughed heartily after greeting you, clasping his hands together and looking towards his members as he gestured for you to take a seat. “I never thought we’d be interviewed by the school paper.”

“Given you were interviewed by the local news station, it can’t be all that bad to have me here today.”

Having memorised all the members’ names, you smiled at Wonpil when he bashfully smiled, waving his hands around to dismiss the notion. “No, we’re really happy. Thank you for thinking of us!”

“Dude, you’re shaking, are you really happy?” Jae teased and leaned forward in his chair. He attention then switched to you. “You’re not taking a photo of us tonight, right?”

“No, I can use a photo from your latest gig, if you’d prefer. Your manager has sent me more than enough photos to pick from,” you offered and he somewhat relaxed, a lazy smile crossing his lips. You smiled knowingly, he definitely had a relationship with their manager as you suspected from her glowing conversation about the lead guitarist in particular.

Clearing your throat, you launched into your prepared questions after confirming it was alright to record the interview. It didn’t take long for Brian and Jae to take over, answering what you needed to know with relative ease. You picked up that whilst Sungjin was the leader, answering questions on the spot was more Brian’s forte. Still, the former was present, throwing in some witty remarks and making sure his younger members did participate.

You noticed that every time Dowoon talked, his ears would turn pink and he’d chuckle a lot. It was rather endearing, and you wondered just how many of their fans liked his shy persona. You could almost guarantee he was the type to get embarrassed being stopped on campus for a signature or photo.

“Oh yeah, he’s totally the type,” Jae confirmed with a laugh at the expense of the drummer. And then he nodded. “But Dowoon is the dark horse of our team.”

“Without a drummer keeping you all on time, how can you effectively work together,” you agreed, smiling brightly at the student now almost as red as Wonpil’s shirt. “How do you feel about the term Jae mentioned?”

Dowoon rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly and then grinned. “Well, uh, I guess I’m kind of important.”

“Kind of?” Brian echoed with a laugh. “You’re definitely important.”

“Shall we go as far as to dub you the most important member?” you offered with an encouraging smile and Dowoon shook his head. “Come on now, if you don’t keep the time, then how can you play together as in sync as you do?”

“I guess that makes sense.”

You clapped your hands together and beamed at the rest of the group. “Thank you so much for your time today. I’m looking forward to your future achievements. And the show this weekend, as well.”

“Oh, you’re coming?” Sungjin asked and you nodded.

“Sweet, if your article goes well, you can come to the after-party,” Jae offered and shrugged when Wonpil gaped at him for suggesting it on those terms.

You merely chuckled. “Well I’ll consider myself invited since you all made it easy for me to write this up, I can tell.”

You thanked them all again for their time and then headed towards the door to the studio, smiling back at everyone before stepping out.

You felt relieved. Not only had the interview gone well, but you already felt inspired to draft up your first copy of the piece. Hurrying towards the elevator, you only hoped that your hands could keep up typing the thoughts now swirling around in your mind.

“Well, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m super impressed,” Gerrie announced when you handed in your article for submission. You beamed with his compliment, watching as he tried not to smile at you when he looked up. “I guess the highlights reel was not the right place to put you.”

“No, I think it humbled me.”

“Well, I’ll have to do some rearranging of the team. We’ll definitely need more of your articles running in the paper, Y/N.”

Thanking him repeatedly, you waited until you were out of the office before you began to celebrate. Pumping your hand up into the air, you let out a cheer, did a little dance on the spot and then patted your own shoulder.

When you were done singing your praises, you looked up and found someone watching you. Instead of feeling embarrassed, you grinned happily and approached the tall man whose ears were now the same colour as your blouse. “Destiny called you here, right?”

“Who’s Destiny?” Dowoon wondered and then eyed you carefully. “Are you alright, Y/N?”

“Never been better.”

“You ran around in a circle,” he pointed out with a small smirk. So he had enjoyed the performance you had just put on.

Nudging him playfully, you couldn’t contain your happiness. “My scoop on Day6 was a hit. I was complimented by the steely Gerrie Moore. That is not an easy feat and it’s all thanks to you.”

“Really?” he genuinely enthused and grinned. “Let me buy you a celebratory coffee then!”

“Only if you allow me to buy you a piece of cake to say thanks for helping me out,” you compromised and Dowoon laughed, nodding once.

“Are you free now?”

“Didn’t you see me just run around in a circle? Do you think I could possibly be up to anything more productive?” you mentioned with a laugh and Dowoon chuckled.

“Well then, coffee and cake it is.”

You had believed that conversation with Dowoon would be hard to achieve. Admittedly, at first, he had seemed shy. But he persisted through in asking you how you had been and you easily steered the conversation towards your hobbies and interests.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to learn the drums,” you mentioned and Dowoon’s eyebrows arched curiously.

“Really?”

You nodded. “Of course. How cool would it be to vent your annoyance by banging something?”

“There’s more to drumming than just banging at the instrument, Y/N. It takes a lot of skill.”

“Of course there is,” you agreed and then leaned over the table towards him. Dowoon eyed you cautiously. “Reckon you could show me sometime?”

“You… you want to learn?”

Nodding eagerly, you pointed to the exit. “Are you free now?”

“You just do everything on a whim, don’t you?” he asked with a laugh and you shrugged.

“When I have an idea, I want to follow it through. So, can you teach me?”

“I bet after thirty minutes you’ll never want to drum again,” he proclaimed and you gaped at Dowoon, rolling up your sleeves as if you were preparing yourself to prove him wrong.

You smirked. “I’m competitive.”

“I can tell.”

“Come on then, let’s go so I can prove you wrong!”

You did in fact, last longer than thirty minutes. But you had to admit, it was a whole lot harder than you expected. Most of the time, Dowoon had you simply kicking the bass drum in a stable rhythm. That was relatively easy until your leg tired.

Dowoon smirked. “It’s not easy, is it?”

“I can do it,” you corrected, heaving in a deep breath and trying to regain your tempo. When you had it, you smiled smugly and gestured for what was next.

“Y/N, most people learn the basics for weeks on end. You need to build up your leg muscles on the kick drum first.”

“No I want to try and incorporate my hands too!” you bit back, looking at the drum kit before you. Pointing at a part of it, you looked over at Dowoon. “This is the floor Tom, right?”

“You know your parts,” he replied with a surprised smile.

“When I research something I have an interest in, I like to know all the facts,” you commented, heaving in another breath.

Maintaining this beat was a lot harder than you wanted to let on.

“Oh yeah, is that how you knew stuff about us?”

“Of course. A reporter’s job is to find the facts and bring the story to life with them.”

“So you know about us?” he repeated and you glanced in Dowoon’s direction, your focus narrowing as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I bet you know a lot about Jae and Brian. They’re popular with the fans.”

“Your favourite colour is red, you have a dog and a cat, you love most types of meals with meat in them and you strangely like green tea ice cream.”

Dowoon blinked, and his ears turned red. “You know all that?”

“What, that’s just after a simple search from your fansites. Kind of crazy to think you have fans compiling lists like this, huh?”

“I’m grateful,” he mumbled and you nodded.

“I thought you would be.”

“Do you know anything else?” he wondered, his hand mindlessly playing with the cymbals. You examined his motion for a moment before giving up on kick pedal, collapsing over the snare drum.

“I know that my leg is about to fall off,” you heaved and Dowoon chuckled. Looking up at him, you smiled. “And that you have a nice talking voice. Your laugh is really cute too. And when you smile, I almost forget what I’m talking about. At the interview, you were the one I wanted to hear from the most.”

“Really?” Dowoon tried not to grin but it spread across his lips all the same. “You like talking to me?”

“I do. And admittedly, you were right. I don’t think I’m cut out for drumming. You’re super talented, Dowoon. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

You chewed on your lip with hesitation. However, you were known to be bold with all your thoughts. It was how you were an excellent reporter. Sometimes, the risks you took were worth a moment of feeling out of your depth.

“Well, I saw what your ideal type was listed as and hoped I matched up well enough for you to want to spend time with me. And maybe go out on a date?” For a moment, Dowoon was frozen. You weren’t even sure he was breathing still and you watched carefully to ensure he wasn’t going to collapse or anything. And then he seemed to come back alive again, unable to control his emotions. His eyes were bright and he swapped between chuckling and grinning giddily. His ears were pink, as was his neck too. He seemed to be overheating.

Reaching out for his hand, you squeezed it, hoping he would calm down a little. It seemed to work, even though Dowoon had rested against the wall to hold himself up. “You’re bold.”

“I told you, when I show an interest in something, I need to know all the facts. There’s no point in me trying to play coy with you when I like you. But, if you don’t feel the same-”

“No, I definitely do. I just… you really do match my ideal type. I’m kind of surprised that you actually exist.”

It was your turn to blush finally and Dowoon seemed to like this a little too much. “Hey, about that after-party this weekend…”

“Want to come as my date?” Dowoon asked before you could suggest anything and you nodded happily, swinging your still linked hands back and forth gently.

“I’d really like that.”

“Can I request something though?”

“What?”

Dowoon grinned. “I don’t know nearly as much as you do. Reckon you could write up a facts list like the one you found on me? That way I can learn about you too.”

“Don’t you want to find out slowly like how most people do whilst dating?”

Dowoon shook his head. “If you’re going to know all you do about me first, I want to level out the playing field.”

“I’ll have it to you by tomorrow then,” you answered, standing up from the drum kit. You weren’t prepared for how weak your leg was, and stumbled, Dowoon reaching out to catch you. Your hands went to his middle and your eyes snapped up to his.

“Oh,” you commented, blinking slowly. “I guess that’s true too.”

“What is?”

“That drummers tend to have really good bodies.”

“Y/N!” Dowoon spluttered and then laughed. “Maybe you know too much.”

“It’s my job to know a lot about things,” you countered and Dowoon nodded. You then slipped your arms around his waist, nestling into his body. You waited to see what his reaction would be but he didn’t pull away, his arms gingerly sliding up to pat you gently.

“Let me catch up. I want to know a lot of things about you too.”

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[DAY6 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[potahun]

“Wo Men De Ge” Archery competition /translation

Translation of some of the archery bits in this special edition of Ep.11 of Season 1, because it was hilarious at the time and this week’s episode in S2 made me a nostalgic bastard on main again. Starts from approx. 1:52 onwards and ends around 14:39.

MC Lin Hai welcomes Na Ying back, who makes her entrance by singing a song from Fei Yuqing. Lin Hai notes that Ayanga isn’t there yet (he was on the plane), so he would pair up with Fei Yuqing in Ayanga’s stead. 

The order of performance in the Episode is to be decided via one round of archery and one round of draws.

MC: So let’s do it like this. The youngest ones here are our Shen Shen and our Yi Qiao. Therefore, you two have the right to decide. You can pick your opponents. 

ZS: I’ve already decided about my opponent. I believe everyone here knows the theory of Tian Ji’s strategy for horse-racing. The weakest *designates himself* should pick the strongest....teacher Hua Jian.

ZHJ: !! *sings while shaking ZS’s hand* You look deeply at me~

ZS: *sings in the same tune* Last time you overtook me by a whole lap~ (at kart racing)

MC (to ZS): So your picking teacher Hua Jian today, is it for revenge?

ZS: I’m....helping everyone to get rid of the strongest first. *laughs*

ZHJ: He fell for it.

MC: Then, Yi Qiao, he took your master away. What about you?

YQ: I think...how about teacher Keqin? 

LKQ: *waves hi*

YQ: I think he’s pretty strong too, so I want to have a match.

LKQ: I’m good at a lot of sports....except archery.

MC: Then, the next one will be interesting: Xiao Zhan. You pick. Do you want to go against me or Xiao Ge? Your pick.

XZ: Then I’ll pick....Teacher Fei. (FYQ: Ey. Alright.)

NY (to XZ): Yes. Elder brother (Fei Yuqing), he’s got hyperopia.  (FYQ: Aayy *laughs* XZ: !!!!!!!!) He won’t be able to do it. It’ll all be blurry -- he’ll just see a pile of circles. No problem! He won’t shoot accurately. 

MC: Alright. Then, Na Jie, I’ll accompany you. Alright? 

First group up: Zhou Hua Jian vs Zhou Shen (Zhou-Zhou shooting)

Everyone shouts encouragements from the back of the room, while Zhou Hua Jian prepares to shoot. His first arrow scores a 5.

ZS: Wooow~

YQ: Not bad!

MC, singing: Aaaaahh Fifth Ring~ (Everyone laughs)  (T/N: It’s a famous song about Beijing’s ring roads that was a bit of a gag, called the 5th Ring Road Song)

ZHJ, pretending to be dissatisfied: The wind is too strong! Can someone turn off the aircon? 

Meanwhile, Zhou Shen struggles to even nock the arrow. 

ZS, laughing: Aiya...my arrow keeps on falling... (LKQ, watching him from behind: *snorts* Aiyo ya.)

After much struggle, Zhou Shen shoots a 0. Li Keqin stands up:

LKQ: OK OK! OK! OK! It’s better than I imagined! It’s better than your driving!!

Zhou Shen turns around to laugh back at him. Meanwhile, Zhou Hua Jian shoots his 2nd arrow...which also turns out to be a 0. 

NY: Ohh, which one is that?

ZHJ: No, no. That fell outside the target.

LKQ, standing up again: Zhou Shen! You can do it!

ZS, shouting towards the back of the room:  I THINK I CHOSE THE RIGHT PERSON. *cackles soundlessly*

ZHJ: You insult me! *laughs*

ZS: I’ve never participated in such a fair competition!! (ZHJ bursts out laughing)

FYQ: This arrow is an important one. 

LKQ (to ZS): A bit higher! A bit higher!

Zhou Shen shoots a 5. Much wow-ing and clapping ensues.

ZHJ, giving him a high-five: Whoaaa!! You’re too much, you! You’re too much! (ZS laughs)

XZ: Whoa, fate changed with just one arrow...!

ZS (to the back of the room): THE SCORES ARE VERY EVENLY MATCHED. *laughs impishly*

ZHJ: Alright alright. I’ve been too generous! I can’t let you win anymore.

ZS, leaning towards him: You certainly talk big. *cackles impishly* 

ZHJ, preparing to shoot: Whooa. OK! Here I go.

ZS, teasing him: It’s off, it’s off. A bit lower. It’s off, it’s off, it’s off...

Zhou Hua Jian shoots another 0 (it actually turns out Zhou Shen was right, it was way too high). 

ZHJ, laughing (to ZS): No matter where you shoot, you’ve won now. (ZS makes a face) What’s that expression for?? 

ZS: If I shoot above yours, I’ve lost. (ZHJ laughs)

Zhou Shen finally shoots his 3rd arrow. It’s a 3. Zhou Shen won against Zhou Hua Jian by 3 points.

ZS (to the others): Who would have thought I’d win on the account of the person I picked? *laughs*

Second group: Li Keqin vs Jiang Yi Qiao.

LKQ (to the others): I’ll tell you, I saw it earlier on TV, everything else is unimportant -- the most important thing is the mouth. *does a big-lipped fish expression*

ZHJ: Alright then, let’s have a look at how his mouth is doing.

Li Keqin actually does the thing with his mouth and shoots a very stable 7. Xiao Zhan proceeds to imitate the pose in an attempt to learn. Meanwhile, Jiang Yi Qiao is struggling.

YQ: Hold on, I’m shaking a little....

LKQ, laughing: Your mouth has to be like this. *does the fish lips again*

Yi Qiao tries it, shoots 3 arrows back-to-back and gets 0, 2, and 0 points respectively. Zhou Hua Jian and Zhou Shen are both dying at the back of the room.

ZHJ, standing up: You guys should check! *points at Yi Qiao’s last arrow on the wall* I’m sure a fly just died over there.

Meanwhile, Li Keqin shoots a 5 and a 4. Qin Shen Shen leads for the moment being, with 24 vs 7 points. 

ZS, clapping and welcoming LKQ back: Awesome, awesome, awesome.

LKQ: Ehhh, it’s all thanks to youuu.

Third Group: Lin Hai (standing in for Ayanga) vs. Na Ying.

Na Ying goes first.

NY: Eh. *winces as she shoots a 0 point on the wall* Eh...

XZ: It’s okay, it’s okay!

ZHJ, pointing at XZ: Yeah, it’s okay, there’s him going behind you, there’s still him.

ZS: It’s okay, there’s still Xiao Zhan!

XZ: What if they all go off-track? *laughs*

Na Ying shoots her other arrows and they’re all 0s. 

ZHJ, laughing: Hey, they’re all way up there!

Na Ying’s arrows:

LKQ: Great aim. All 3 arrows are around the same area... (ZHJ: If you move the whole target upwards, she’d be smack in the middle. )

For some reason, Na Ying nocks another arrow and slowly turns it towards MC Lin Hai.

ZHJ, from the back of the room: Na Jie, don’t direct your arrow at him.

MC, finally noticing the danger: Eh?! *jumps back and laughs nervously* Um...uh?

NY, smiling sweetly but in a vaguely threatening manner: Hehe. What I mean to say is...you’re up against someone old, so....

MC, reassuring but backing up slowly: No, no, no, I’ve got it. I’ve got it.

NY, still vaguely threatening: You get me, right...?

MC, with his arrow nocked (to NY): I know. *turns his head towards her* I’ll just shoot while looking at you.

MC Lin Hai shoots a 10 (full score) while looking at Na Ying. The whole room loses it, Zhou Hua Jian most of all. 

MC, half-collapsed and laughing (to NY): I...I was really looking at you just now! I just--

NY, in equal disbelief: My God!! You’re playing this hand against me...? That’s really too good!! Seriously...what’s the expression again, this is like playing the pig to eat the tiger!! Aiyoo.... (MC: I didn’t...!)

XZ: Is that a 10?? (ZS: Yeah it is.) *has a mental breakdown*

NY (to XZ): He went straight for that yellow eye! (XZ: He’s too good!)

MC Lin Hai shoots a 3 this time and takes a few timid steps backwards, backing away from Na Ying.

NY: That’s still very good. That’s still very good...

ZS, yelling into his hands: Lin Hai, have mercy! (XZ: Have mercy!!)

MC (to the others): I’m just building some foundation for Xiao Ge.

FYQ, with utmost comfort: First place confirmed~ (The others laugh)

MC Lin Hai’s last arrow is a 5. Fei Yuqing claps for him, while Na Ying makes a small salute, fist against palm. MC Lin Hai returns the salute.

NY (to MC): That was really cool. (MC Lin Hai bows)

Last group: Xiao Zhan vs Fei Yuqing

Before they start, Lin Hai realises that Xiao Zhan has some prior experience with archery because he did it in the Untamed/CQL. Na Ying proceeds to add to Fei Yuqing that he probably won’t win, because Xiao Zhan has the basics down. Xiao Zhan protests he was only playing around at the time. 

His first arrow is nonetheless an 8. Everyone cheers. 

FYQ, smiling: It’s starting.

Xiao Zhan gets a 6 in the meantime. Fei Yuqing casually gets ready to shoot; he’s not even holding his arrow the standard way.

LKQ, quietly: Xiao Ge is probably gonna be really good.

MC: Xiao Ge, you can do it!

Fei Yuqing lets off his arrow and shoots a 10, while the whole room collectively loses it. 

Everyone: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LKQ, excitedly (to ZHJ): I JUST SAID THAT! I JUST SAID THAT!

ZHJ (back to LKQ): YOU JUST SAID THAT!! 

ZS, looking like his soul’s been sucked out: Wooho ho ho.....A 10.......!

Fei Yuqing proceeds to engage in his own brand of celebratory dance:

FYQ (to the others): Hey, this wasn’t a fluke...! *does a cute silent giggle*

XZ, feeling pressured again: Na Jie...!!

Xiao Zhan shoots his last arrow and gets a 4. 

NY: Good. Good. Good, good. (to FYQ) We’re already at this stage, actually, so you can just use your usual state of mind.

While Fei Yuqing prepares to shoot his 2nd arrow, Na Ying starts to sing one of his old songs to distract him, and he ends up getting a 0.

FYQ: Aiya. (the others fall down laughing behind him) Who sang that? Who sang that?

ZHJ (to NY): It’s definitely you who distracted him!

FYQ: Who sang “Nan Ping Wan Zhong”? *turns back around and prepares to shoot* I can’t let my guard down...

NY: Come on, I’ll do another song. “Yi Jian Mei |One Trim of Plum Blossom”. *starts singing with Zhou Shen*

Fei Yuqing gets a 0 again. Everyone collapses in laughter, while Fei Yuqing laughs helplessly. Xiao Zhan bows to him. 

MC (to NY): The song you’re singing, are you sure it’s not “One Arrow’s Gone?” (T/N: Also “Yi Jian Mei”, but with a different intonation)

Fei Yuqing finally returns to the table, laughing:

FYQ (to NY): The more you sing, the further away from the centre I get! 

NY, apologetic and laughing at the same time: Elder brother...Elder brother, I’m sorry...! Elder brother, let me tell you, I’m part of those who are a little mean in variety shows.

FYQ, singing the tune of a famous song: You’ve wounded me~ (NY, singing together with him: And yet just laugh it off~!)

[writingchalamet]

In The Hills

An Upperclassman finds himself intrigued by a lower-class seamstress. Their worlds collide when they literally bump into each other at a May Day parade. 

A/N: I spent 15+ hours writing this yesterday only for it to be deleted so it probably doesn’t have the same spark as when I first wrote it which really bums me out. Also thinking of making this a multi-chapter story so let me know if you want a part 2 :) 

The sun beamed down on the grassy hills, lighting up every fleck of grass in its path. The wild flowers growing in the meadow bursting with vibrant colours, pink, purple, blue and whites. The flowers growing being the first real welcoming of spring. The temperature slowly rising to a comfortable level, unlike the winter just gone. It was May Day, a day for celebrating the welcoming of Spring, towns everywhere gathered together to celebrate the good weather and traditionally danced to increase fertility. 

Timothée Chalamet atop his horse was riding through the village on his way to his parents estate. It was along the dirt road that he heard the distant bustle of music and laughter. Curiosity only rising, he turned his horses tracks grasping the reins and tugging him in the direction of the sound. He rode uphill until he came across a large wooden pole erected from the ground, pieces of colourful ribbons hanging from the top and into the hands of the young ladies of the village. The men playing instruments and the girls, dressed in white danced in a circle around the May Pole. He stared for a moment then caught sight of a girl, her hair cascaded down her back in curls, her smile was bright, laughing as she clutched hands with the other girls jumping around. She was beautiful. 

Feeling intrigued he hopped down from his horse, allowing her to roam around. And strolled over to stand with the men, clapping and singing along. Not long after an older village lady shouted out for the boys to join the dance. Timothée stepped forwards joining the group in there circle, stood holding hands with two young women, both giggling at the likes of the handsome man. He spotted her across the circle, a small pit of envy growing in his stomach as he saw her holding hands with two other men. The song began again and the group began to move in circles, occasionally spinning and raising their arms. The circle broke and couples began pairing off to, performing a hand touch dance, before spinning and switching partners. The songs pace sped up as did the dancing. You could hear the breathlessness from each person as they passed. 

Timothée not completely concentrated on what he was doing took a step backwards, bumping into another dancer, rather vigorously sending her to the ground. It was then that he heard her laugh for the first time, sounding like bells in his ears. He vastly lunged forwards offering his hands out to her. It was then that she turned her head, and looked up to meet his gaze. It was the girl he had been somewhat fixated on. She took his hands graciously still laughing, and he pulled her into a standing position. 

“Miss are you alright, are you hurt?” The secure feeling of his hands on her elbows making her feel more at ease. “I’m very well sir, thank you, and I apologise” bowing her head into a submissive nod. He lets out a sigh of relief, “nonsense, It is I that is at fault, I stepped to forcefully and bumped into you” His eyes were full of guilt realising he could have really hurt her. “May I ask your name miss?” hopefulness rang in his voice. 

“Of course sir, Y/n, Y/n L/n” He let the name sit in his head for a moment, his mind reeling over and over. Beautiful, he thought. He offered his arm out to her which she took cordially. They began to walk away from the group, the buzz of the music and laughter fading as they got further away. She looked up at him almost as if she recognised him from somewhere. “And what might your name be sir” she spoke with hint of curiousness, trying to piece together where she might recognise the gentleman from. she was sure she had seen him pass through the village on his horse before, but he never usually stops to engage with anyone. 

“Timothée Chalamet, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance”  He took one of her hands in his, raising it to his lips. Although she wore a sudden blush across her cheeks, they soon went pale again at the realisation of who he was. “Chalamet, as in Lord Chalamet’s son?” Her voice was muted the shock coursing through her system. She had been seen tantalising with the Lords son. “Yes Lord Chalamet is my father however I do not live on the estate, I wish to lead my own life, Do you know the cottage at the far end of the village, on top of the hill?” She nodded in response “That’s my house” she let out a short breath, the shock still in her system. 

“Well I bet your family would not approve of you talking to the likes of a girl like me” She muttered with her head hung low. A soft hand was placed delicately under her chin to raise it back to meet his eyes. It was then she felt her body melt away, his orbs swirled a pale green colour with hazel flecks towards the centre. She was gone. “I do not care for my families title, nor their opinions or their ignorance. I’m a man that simply wishes to exist, I am unbothered by the socialist way of life, and all the high society has provided for me is a name. Everything else I have done I’ve worked for myself, without the help of my fathers money. I will be no part in their charade.” He spoke bluntly but with passion. She just let out a short breath. It seemed they had gotten closer while he was talking, she could practically feel his breath on her skin. 

Politely taking a step backwards a simple “I see” fell from her lips confirming her understanding to him. She took another step backwards pulling away from him completely, brushing off her dress, and fixing the loose curls that had stuck to her damped skin from the dancing. He smiled as he watched her, taking note of her little mannerisms. “I would love to have you over for tea, do you have the time tomorrow afternoon?” She stood there dumfounded by his bold question, why would he want to see her again. 

“I do yes, I would first have to ensure that my mother will be home to take care of my sisters of course, but..” Her sentence trailed off, her head still reeling at the question. “Where can I find you?” He queried. This part she wasn’t looking forwards to, admitting the poverty her family came from. “Do you know Mill Lane?” he nodded encouraging her to continue. “Mine is the cobble house with a large wagon in the front yard.” She smiled at him “Oh yes I believed I’ve passed it before, is the wagon your fathers?” he asked plainly, genuinely intrigued to know more about her. 

“Yes he’s a costermonger, he trades potatoes from the local farm in the surrounding towns” For the first time she spoke confidently, proud of her family, which was a lot more than he could be of his. “Wonderful, and your mother, you mentioned you have sisters?” stepping closer again showing her his interest. 

“Myself and my mother are seamstresses, we work at the Hepsketh dress shop, and yes I have two younger sisters, Maeve and Eleanor who I take care of while my parents are working. I also have an older sister she’s away working as a housemaid for the Lord of Buckinghamshire.” She spoke more clearly this time, detailing her love for her family in her tone. 

“Well I must come and introduce myself tomorrow, before I take you to tea” he flirted, eyes boring into hers. He couldn’t help himself, he had somehow become infatuated with this girl within the ten minutes they had been talking. She shook her head laughing a little at his boldness. She looked back up the hill and noticed how far away they had strayed from the group. 

“I apologise for leaving so soon, but I must be going Sir, I left my sisters up there with my friends and they’ll be wondering where I’ve gotten to” He caught her hand once more before she turned away completely. “It was a pleasure meeting you, miss L/n, I look forwards to seeing you again” he raised her hand once again leaving a light kiss on her knuckles. She soon felt the tingle shoot through her at the touch. “It was lovely meeting you Mr Chalamet, I’ll see you on the morrow.” She spoke softly matching his tone, before turning away and running back up the hill to her friends. 

He stood and observed for a moment as she reached her friends, hearing the faint squeals and giggles emitted from their mouths. Her friends carefully brushed away hairs that had blown in her face and fixed her dress, they all turned to face him, another set of squeaks coming from the girls. He saw two young girls running towards her, she fell to her knees and embraced each girl in her arms. A look of love upon her face, she rose, taking the girls hands and began dancing once again. He was in awe of her. He found his horse again jumping on, tugging the reins in the downwards direction back to the dirt road. His head turning once more to catch a glimpse of her before she was completely out of sight. He sighed as she went out of view and followed back to the road leading to his families estate. 

The noise was almost constant in your house. The loud cheerful buzzed through the walls of the small house. Although you didn’t come from much you came from love and a hardworking family. Each member doing all they can to ensure the families stability. You wandered into the kitchenet area where your mother was preparing a lunch. She didn’t quite believe you when you had told her you met a fine gentleman yesterday. She was a kind woman but was never very trusting of the higher class, they only wished to humiliate and belittle us, in her mind. 

You had dressed this morning in the nicest dress you owned. Blue with white frilly details along the neckline and bust, It accentuated your femininity, you although had rolled up the sleeves, which your mother was always smacking your wrist for, to make it easier to work in. You had wished just once though that you would be fortunate enough in this lifetime to wear a dress and grand as the ones you helped sew at the shop. Mrs Hepsketh was one of the most acknowledged dress makers in the county, often getting orders from Lady’s and socialites. You just helped sew them together. 

A roar of laughter and screams emitted from the front garden where your two sisters had been playing, chasing and hitting each other with sticks. You walked out to stand in the doorway, keeping an eye on them, they had always been quite boisterous, a trait they must have picked up from your father. Your older sister and yourself were always quite contented with books and sewing, something that the girls had always turned their nose up to. 

“who’s that! Look at the carriage!”  “I think he’s coming to our house!” their words jumbled together stumbling over one another only adding to the chaos. He’s coming. A sudden burst of nervousness and excitement washed over you. Running back into the house you fixed your hair and flattened your dress. “He’s here mama, he’s on his way, how do I look” With frantic eyes you turned to your mother who still seemed completely un-phased. “Lovely” She said without looking up from her dough and rolling pin. You let out a puff of air, taking a seat on the sofa and pulling out a book, as if to look unfathomed by his arrival. 

“Mama there’s a man here to see y/n!” - “mama his name is Timothée he wants to take y/a to tea, mama look!” The girls’ voices once again jumping over one another, making it hard to clearly hear what they were saying. Into the room steps Timothée with a garland of flowers in her hands, a timorous smile on his face. He looked towards you lifting the flowers slightly. Your mother finally looked up from her dough, flour all over her apron, with a shocked expression on her face. “Oh my dear boy, do come in, what was your name again?” moving around the small table stepping towards him, bowing her head in acquaintance. 

“Timothée, Mam, Timothée Chalamet”  It was at that moment that your mothers eyes practically gouged out of her head, her jaw almost hitting the ground. “My Lord” She bows her head again dropping into an awkward curtsey, Timothée took your mothers hand raising her from her position. “Please, non of that is necessary, and please call me Timothée, I’ve never been fond of such formalities.” He smiled at your mother softly “Ti-Timothée alright, can I get you some tea my boy” you sensed your mothers nerves dropping the more she spoke to him. 

“No I’m quite alright thank you, I was hoping to take Y/n out to tea, if it didn’t bother you” The timidity reflected in his voice, unsure of what her answer would be. “Of course, she’s right over there” directing his attention fully to you. He stepped towards you nervously. Offering you the flowers still in your seated position. “These are for you” handing over the flowers, “Thank you they’re beautiful” inspecting them closely admiring the beautiful array of colours. “not as beautiful as you miss L/n” he spoke quietly, almost afraid he’s offed someone. “awww” erupted from both your sisters mouths. You stood up and sent them a short glare warning them to stop. “Maeve would you put these in water for me please” directing your words to the elder of the girls. You handed the flowers over to the girl, walking over towards the door taking your shawl and wrapping it around your shoulders. 

You kissed your mother on the cheek but didn’t have time to stop the assault Eleanor was making towards Timothée. Tugging at his trouser leg looking up at him with wild eyes “Are you going to marry my sister?” You blushed shooing her away from him “I apologise-” you were interrupted, “maybe if she’d have me” Your eyes widened in shock, your younger sisters giggling and your mother looking heart-warmed. He held out his arm for you again beckoning for you to take it. You looped your arm though his, saying a final ‘goodbye’ to your family before exiting. You look up to Timothée the sunlight bouncing off his skin, making him look more undeniably handsome. There sat at the front of your house, a peculiar yellow coloured, two person carriage. 

You noticed his horse from yesterday, her hairs looking even more ginger in the light. He held out a hand for you and aided you stepping into the coach. He followed pursuit, pulling the reins into his hands giving them a snap, encouraging the horse to move. You looked back at your humble house again, seeing your mother and sisters in the doorway, your sisters still shouting their goodbyes as you drove away. 

The yellow carriage followed the road, up hill to the south of the village where, Timothée’s cottage was. He charmed you the entire journey there, his constant flattery was something you’d have to get used to. You soon pulled up to the cottage, colourful trellis travelling up each side of the house, splashing the walls in colourful flowers. The carriage came to a holt. Timothée jumping down and walking to your side to help you down. Soon two members of staff came out un latching the horse from the carriage and pulling them both away following down the side of the house, which you can only imagine where the stable is kept. 

“Your house is beautiful sir” looking up at the larger house in awe. The light stone walls accented beautifully with the flowers travelling up the house. “Thank you, lets go in, I’ll have Marian prepare some tea” taking his arm again you followed him into the house. Stepping inside a lounge area, paintings hung on the walls, a hand carved clock sat atop the fireplace mantle. The decoration of the room felt quite romantic. Oak furnishings filled the room. “ Please take a seat, I’ll go fetch Marian” he left the room contently, eyes lingering on you a little longer. Your own eyes fell on a painting hung on the wall. A portrait of Timothée, you wandered over, reaching your hand up, gently tracing over the delicate brush strokes. It was beautiful, they accented the hazel flicks in his eyes and even managed to capture his half smirk perfectly. 

You stepped back abruptly hearing footsteps re-enter the room. “Oh that old thing, my father had that done for me, a sort of ‘gift’ for me leaving the families fortune” He scoffed and nodded his head in the direction of the chairs sitting in the room. You followed his gaze and seated yourself in one of the armchairs.

“How do you take your tea mam?”  You heard pleasantly from the woman stood next to you holding a tea tray. “lemon or sugar?” she insisted placing the tray down on the table in front of you. “please call me y/n, and no thank you I take it plain. Thank you” You smiled at the woman assuming it was Marian that Timothée mentioned earlier. She gracefully poured two cups and handed the china over to you. You took it thanking her again with a subtle nod. 

“You are excused Marian, Thank you” Timothée utters smiling at the older woman. You took a sip and diverted your eyes back to him. “How do you like it?” he smiled genuinely happy to be in your company. “It’s lovely thank you, Sir” - “Please just call me Timothée.” you nodded your head again submitting to his request. 

“Do you not feel lonesome living here all alone” The words rushed out of your mouth afraid of causing offence. “I’m never truly alone, I have Marian and my books keep me company just fine” he laughed easing your nerves. “What books do you like to read, I’m reading Shakespeare to my sisters at the moment, trying to teach them how to read” Your eyes lit up at the mutual love for reading. “Well I do love Shakespeare, Washington Irving has always been a favourite of mine.” He smiled looking towards you for your approval. 

“what’s your favourite work of Shakespeare?” he questioned you, intrigued to know more. “It has always been sonnet 116. It’s just so emotional.” you carried on reciting the sonnet. “Let me not to the marriage of true minds, Admit impediments. Love is not love, Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no; it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on tempests, and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks, Within his bending sickle's compass come;  Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.” You spoke clearly and passionately. The words seemed to roll off your tongue with ease. You noticed him staring at you with a soft expression. 

“That was beautiful.” he responded, he couldn’t quite find the words to express how he felt. “You are beautiful” the words fell from his lips before he could stop them. A blush crept up to your cheeks, feeling suddenly very hot, you rose to your feet and walked to stand by the window. You looked out at the view. You could everything from up here. The hills, the village and distantly the trees lining his families estate. 

He stood up and walked towards you taking your hand in his. “forgive me if I have overstepped, I just can’t help but speak my mind” You blushed again, this time grazing your fingers over his knuckles, in reassurance. “No forgive me sir, no one has ever called me beautiful before, I’m just unsure of how to respond, to ones remarks” You let out a breathy laugh. “I refuse to believe no one has ever called you beautiful before, what about your mother?” He gushed over you “No she’s a woman of few words” You smiled dropping your head to look at your feet. There his hand slid under your chin again listing it to meet his eyeline. 

“Well you are beautiful, thank you for coming, I wasn’t sure you’d still want to attend” he changed the subject to avoid your disagreement with his comments. “Thank you for inviting me, my mother didn’t believe me when I said a young man was coming to take me to tea, It wasn’t until you walked through the door that she realised I wasn’t just fantasising” He smiles in return laughing along with you at the thought. 

“Well I’ll have to come and visit you more regularly so she doesn’t forget me” he smirked, looking much alike with the painting that stood behind him. You giggled shaking your head. “You want to see me again?” you quizzed him, trying to find a logical explanation as to why. “Of course, do you not wish to see me” He replies slightly offended. 

“Yes of course, It’s just that I know your mother has you lined up to marry several Ladies in the county, and I do not wish to be a distraction, they would not approve of your flirtations towards me.” glancing out the window staring down at the tree barrier of his parents manor house, from across the village. 

“I have said before, I do not care for my families title nor any of the women they may wish me to marry. That is why I moved away from the estate, I want them to see that I am capable of making my own decisions. They bare too much ignorance towards anyone of a lower class, their shallow mindedness has led to them losing a son. I do not need their approval of anything, and you are far better and kinder and more beautiful than any socialite they could ever find.” He finished his rant with a puff of air. “I apologise for going off like that, they just anger me that is all” dropping his head slightly, not wanting to meet your eyeline in case of judgement. 

“I have never met anyone more passionate than you Timothée.” His head turned slightly giving you that one sided smile. You look towards the clock and notice the time. “Oh my, I am sorry but I must be going father will be expecting me” Pulling away walking to the back of the door where Marian had hung up your shawl. “Of course I’ll get Johnson to take you home at once, I won’t be a moment” He stepped out of the room before you could protest. You took one last look at the room soaking everything in one last time before you left. You didn’t know if you really would be able to see him again. 

“He is preparing the carriage now, miss L/n” He strides towards you again taking your hands in his “I am so pleased you came today” his hands were clammy and notably warmer than your icy ones. “Thank you for the invitation Mr Chalamet” He loved hearing the way his name rolled off your tongue. You heard the carriage outside and followed Timothée out towards it. He once again offered his hand in his gentleman like manor and helped you step into the carriage. 

Just as the horse started pulling away you heard him shout “When can I see you again?” smiling his hand shading his eyes from the sun. “You know where to find me Sir, Goodbye!” You hollered back to him giving him a final wave. You sat back in the carriage and let out a relaxed breath, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin. You looked over at the view of the village, as the cart slowly trucked its way downhill. You felt a sense of comfort, you had never before clicked with someone, or had someone speak to you with as much passion and drive as Timothée had expressed. Something about him just felt right.