#This actually originates as a message I sent to my friend a minute ago and decided to post because… idk

[wiyldefire]

I love Nesaak. It feels so cozy. I know it’s the cold place but it feels warm. The music sounds like when you’re on the ice for the first time and you know you’re going to fall but it’s going to be okay and you’re going to laugh about it. It feels like going down a hill on a sled too fast and rolling off it and it’s cold but you climb up the hill again and there’s hot chocolate and your friends are there and it’s nice.

When I was a kid, out behind my preschool was a field. Part of this field froze over in the winter, so there was a fake ice rink. I didn’t have skates at the time but my mom would sometimes bring my helmet after school and I would go play on the ice with my friends. It reminds me of that.

I also like the Twains so that might add to it but that also might be it’s own thing entirely. Idk. Nesaak is neat.

[britt-kageryuu]

Leo in another bout(bought?) of boredom, is streaming from the clinic again. His model dressed in galaxy print scrubs, blue crocs, lab coat with some random pins on the pocket, and his Bandana with the tails tied up to not get in the way.

The camera is following him as he moves about the reception area. Rambling off about different topics, every now and then answering a question sent in by the audience and chat.

A graphic of a cartoony Aligator Snapping Turtle swims past dragging a banner that Thanks 'Chompy' for $5 with a message 'You changed how you did things awhile ago, while it was subtle I still want to know why did you change?'

Leo pauses to stare right into the camera, like his brain stopped working, or was overworking itself to word the answer.

"Okay, so I didn't really think anyone had truly noticed. Not to say you guys are oblivious, just I didn't think I would have to explain this." He shifts while looking around the room, "So to those who might've not been here then, or watched the VODs... I originally went into this VTuber stuff as a BFE type. And for those who don't know what that means, Boy Friend Experience."

Leo takes a deep breath before continuing, "See, I didn't know what I was going to do for this, so I kinda copied the BFE type that I saw clips of, so flirting with the audience, pretending to be in love with the audience... that kind of thing. Then I got an actual crush, who became my boyfriend and it just felt awkward to keep that up." He walks over to his desk while talking, and sat down, "So I shifted my way of talking to you guys, and from there just left the flirty tone to when I'm around Thumper. Much to my siblings annoyance."

He lets out a laugh while shaking his head. "Though my usual way of talking is crafted to make you feel relaxed, less tense, and get people to listen to what I want to tell them." Leo gives the camera a smirk, "I used to call myself the 'Face Man' of the group, so I always tried to be a smooth talker, right up until I put my foot in my mouth, and told my Boyfriend I thought he dyed his hair... his hair is naturally white. I didn't believe him. I still don't get how I convinced him to date me!"

Leo has slumped in his chair with embarrassment, he looked about ready to fall out of his chair when the sound of a door opening could be heard. He sits up and faces the door. He mutes the camera mic, but not his.

"Hello, what can I do for ya today?" Pause to listen to who ever entered, "Okay, let me check." He grabs the work tablet and checks for something, "Well you're in luck. There's no one scheduled for the next few hours. So let's get you checked in. Oh give me a minute." Leo pulls out his phone to see if there's anyone to take over the stream, or if not what he should put on for the stream to watch.

"Hmm? Oh yeah... the schedule is very empty, and no one else was scheduled to work today, so I was live streaming... nothing really." The notification on his phone goes off. "And the stream will be watching a few meme compilations. So to the veiwers, enjoy the memes, and I'll be back in a bit!"

The stream cuts to a meme compilation of clips from different VTurtles! VODs and some from the Discord and Social Media. With a BRB sign propped up by River.

-----------------

Masterpost

Not much to say other than, no patient trying to sneak into the stream this time.

[standardquip]

FF8 Live Reacts

Started the ps4 remaster of final fantasy 8 in may 2024. Finished in August. I've never played it before. Here's my live reacts. This is a compilation of the discord messages I sent during this time period while playing it.

Spoilers: I didn't like it and this is mostly a rant of me hating on it

(dates are dd/mm/yyyy)

Got rid of my ps5 a couple weeks ago, but guess who remembered there were still ps4 games they were interested in? I just bought disco elysium and ff8 remaster. Will be delivered on the 20th I've actually never played ff8 at all, but have always wanted to and now I'm going to attempt to make more headway in ps4 ff8

and boy do I have THOUGHTS about ff8 most of which are "ff9 is better" and "man RPGs back in the day really expect you to already know how RPGs work" but I'm only 2 hours in so who knows!

I definitely didn't pay enough attention to the dialogue originally, so I had to pull out a game walkthrough for THE FIRST AREA Which is fine, I guess, because this is a direct repeat of what happened when I played ff9 for the first time - got lost in the world map when the area I was supposed to go to was literally straight ahead quest markers and shit were amazing inventions, man, I'm glad those exist now

27/05/2024 11:21 I'm trying to give ff8 the old college try, but if I keep having to consult the playthrough every 5 minutes, I might just pull the plug

anyway I did not have much on the to do list for today, but I somehow finished it I will now go off to try to progress in that ps4 ff8 I could go off on complaining about stupid things with this game but I've brought on enough negativity for today ps4 ff8 it is, then I have come to a good point in the game to start grinding Somehow this is more fulfilling than the actual story

I guess I know now why I've wanted to play ff8 for so long. Teenage me would have loved ff8 First of all, squall (the main character) is just the perfect character design for my desires at the time, bonus points he looked just like me fr Also I love scars on the face, he was probably the whole source of that archetype The story is about them becoming mercenaries and doing mercenary things. Like's like, the bread and butter of every kid chat roleplaying those days, myself included of course. Who WASN'T a mostly silent merc who secretly hated everything but everyone looked up to? Unfortunately, my disappointment starts with the very beginning of the game: the opening cinematic

It plays off like some kind of abstract dream thing, but no, you're actually supposed to believe this is a thing that actually happened in real time. it's not an epic battle, it's just a stupid sparring match between classmates(? friends?) random visions of a woman are totally what causes squall to not beat seifer!! /s the scar DOESN'T HAVE ANY SPECIAL MEANING :tisacry:

Epic battle, epic music, mysterious circumstances

Actually just a training exercise between two 15 year olds who should not have been given the ability to use real weapons The first thing that happens in-game is squall going to the infirmary for his new injury, which somehow isn't serious or prevents him from doing anything that day, but is also enough to leave a scar. On his face.

Then we have Quistis, his instructor, who has only been teaching for 1 year, and turned 18 while she was teaching (Why are these people so young?) And she very much behaves exactly like a 17-18 year old, so it's no wonder that after the merc test she reveals to you (Squall) that 1. she got fired from teaching and 2. She's definitely DTF you (Squall is completely oblivious though) You finally meet the girl of your dreams at the ball you're voluntold to go to as a new merc, her name is rinoa and her opening line to you is "You're the best looking guy here" except that LATER you learn this is actually seifier's (the guy who gave you a scar) girlfriend Now, don't ask me how this works, because rinoa says that she met seifer that night but then when seifer "dies" when he encounters the sorcess for the first time, she says he was her boyfriend and has lots of good memories of him so yeah this doesn't make sense at all but WHATEVER

The "main" story is that a country(?) Is attempting to establish independence from another country, who is trying to take over the world with the help of a sorceress. I am currently only 6 hours into the game / not that far into the story. I have only just seen her for the first time, where she is like "You should come with me" and seifer just goes with her because he's a fucking tool One of their teammates blabs that this coup is from their organization ("the garden" ), so there might be some retribution (surprisingly there is none??????) and by the time the group gets back to a garden (HQ), they say that seifer was tried and his sentence was served, and everyone assumes it's execution. I have just left the garden and am on my way to… somewhere (I honestly forgot where lmao). And I am taking this break to grind Which leads me to my next complaint: the gameplay I HATE THE JUNCTION SYSTEM I like the IDEA of the junction system, and I can kind of see how FFX's sphere grid (and aeon upgrading) grew from it (I love the sphere grid, but it was also very imposing to a newbie). My main problems with the junction system, aside from the fact that it's got a severe learning curve, is that a GF (summon) must be junctioned to a character in order for that character to be able to have ANYTHING on their battle menu aside from "attack" Do you want to be able to use magic in a battle? haha fuck you, need a GF junctioned. How about an item? Nope, hope you have junctioned a GF to this character! haha!! Who the fuck decided to link these things

The OTHER main thing I hate about the junction system is that no character can perform magic innately. It has to be junctioned too. And in order to cast a spell, you have to steal it from someone else first ("stock" the magic). And what's even worse about this magic stocking thing, is that your stats are connected to your magic stock, so using any of your stocked magic will result in lowering your stats, creating this awful system where you should get 100 (the max) stock of every spell that has worthwhile stats increases and then NEVER CAST THEM IN BATTLE EVER So anyway I'm grinding in order to get 100 of the spells FOR EACH CHARACTER so I can get max stats I also am grinding to overlevel my characters because this absurd system has made it guaranteed I will concentrate on physical attacks OH THE OVERDRIVE SYSTEM It's called something else but I can't remember what atm It kicks in when you're low on health, or, in the ps4 version (which I'm playing) you cna press a button and it becomes available whenever. But the thing about it is that the interface sucks. It's not a separate menu option. It's a submenu of attack. so in order to use your overdrive, you have to put your cursor on "attack" then move it to THE RIGHT and then select the overdrive you want to use. (side note: pagination in this game is to the right/left, which I also hate) So if you are like me, and have the battles on x3 speed (another thing they added to the ps4 version) and are just holding down X to get through most of the boring ass battles, you will never do any overdrives I have the cursor thing on memory, so maybe if I turn overdrives on manually and select them once they'd automatically do it from that point forward, but that seems like cheating? So I haven't done it Actually I'm very confused on why the manual overdrive button is a thing that was added at all well anyway this concludes the rant I had bottled up from yesterday I will now start grinding on ps4 ff8 (As I chose to write this instead of actually starting the game when I mentioned it)

I discovered the written seed tests. I couldn't get higher than 80 on the first one. So of course I looked up the answers and now I'm at max level with no more tests to take 😂

At least I won't have any money issues anymore now

07/06/2024 23:47 I think I hate all the characters in ff8

Not only that, the music choice sucks ass

Like it actively makes every scene more boring

Idk how they got so much so wrong in this one. I'm glad 9 was my first ff

I just got to the scene where squall "dies" from the first fight with the sorceress.

Ff8 is just boring so far. I'll keep playing it until I either beat it or actively hate it

29/06/2024 18:48 I made it to disc 2 of ff8 Kind of disappointed there's no in-game indication that you have moved to disc 2 [in the remaster], aside from the subtitle in the save file

23/08/2024 21:35 Turns out the button that gives you the attack specials in ff8 also makes it so you never take damage wtf I could have been using god mode the ENTIRE TIME THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING

I guess after I get this gf I want I'll plow through the rest of the game on god mode… Although with godmode now I don't even need this gf… Ugh

24/08/2024 00:07 Made it to disc 3 Game story still feels pretty stupid. But I'm more than halfway so hopefully I can just get through it. Godmode certainly makes that way easier

30/08/2024 01:12 I am about to fight the final boss of ff8 The story never made sense, was always stupid, and I never would've made it here without a guide But it will be over soon and I can maybe start disco elysium and hate on that next

30/08/2024 01:53 I'm done With ff8

[Someone else says: bit of a mindfuck innit? ]

No I'm just disappointed in it

------------

My final thoughts: So many things went unanswered. Rinoa and Squall's sudden romantic interest in each other never made any sense. Maybe the [possession + time travel + teen mercs/renegades + amnesia] plot points were semi-original for the time, but nowadays they feel lazy and overdone.

The junction system is horrible. The card game was too confusing to me so I never played it, however that's definitely on me and I feel like if I were younger it would've been a great game (I was a huge fan of Tetra Master in FF9).

The game controls are too clunky with no hints and there were several areas where if I had not looked at a walkthrough I never would have found or did the thing the game needed me to find/do to progress. It seems like they fixed that in FF9 with the little "?" thought bubble when you're near things that should be interacted with.

The one redeeming thing about the FF8 ending was that the sorceress Ultimecia is obviously AMAB but uses female pronouns, so I guess we could say that technically FF8 was before its time in trans representation lmao.

[simmerandwrite]

Lower the Stakes [05] - Enter Alpine

Summary: Bucky Barnes still isn’t sure of his place in the world. For Haley Fisher, making new friends has always felt like a challenge. Though getting a second chance at life gave her the opportunity to reinvent herself and determine where she fit into the world again. It’s time to shift the expectations and determine what she really wants. How does that old classic go? ‘I get by with a little help from my friends.’

(Aka the post Falcon and the Winter soldier friends-to-lovers mini series no one asked for, featuring one ‘grumpy but warming up’ centenarian and one ‘coming into her own’ plus sized original character!) Ready the pre-story here

Chapter summary:   Bucky adopts a cat, Haley pretends she doesn't have the flu. Everything is fine. (:

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size original character

Word count: 5k

Parts: Part 01 Part 02 Part 03 Part 04 Part 05 Part 06 Part 07

Notes/warnings: brief mentions of body shaming Haven’t updated this one since August and I’m sorry! It’s a bit of a backburner project but I’m happy to have you here This chapter is mostly told from Bucky’s POV. if you see me out interacting in the wild, it’ll be under @simmerandcry

---

Bucky didn’t consider himself an impulsive person. Not now, at least. Perhaps before, a long time ago, he might have been a lot less careful when it came to his decision making. But after years of strict rule following in the army, and even more torturous reprimands for breaking any rules while being brainwashed into The Winter Soldier, being cautious of every move he made became a nasty habit.

A habit he was trying to break, in some ways.

Like not thinking through every single thing he did and the ripple effect it might have on his future actions. He wanted to start considering immediate gratifications and long term impacts of things, too. But he didn’t want to always take a long time to get there.

Enter Alpine.

All it took was one glance at the stray kitten - who someone at the airstrip had found hiding out in one of the storage sheds - and Bucky knew he couldn’t leave her behind. And although Sam had protested the whole idea as they got onto the plane, the minute the small animal curled up into the crook of his arm, Bucky was set on his own decision.

Now here Bucky and Sam were - back in Bucky’s apartment in New York, getting it ready for life with a cat. Bucky had been a bit heavy handed once they got to the pet store but when he saw the little white furball traipsing through his living room, bounding up her the new cat tree they had built, he felt settled by the entire thing.

And much to Bucky’s surprise, Sam has been more than helpful. Sure, he teased Bucky throughout the whole process but Sam had taken a lot of the anxiety off Bucky when it came to his decision making. Sam had even come back to the city with him before heading home to New Orleans, choosing to spend the night on Bucky’s couch. 

While Sam took to the shower, Bucky was sitting cross legged on the floor of his living room, tossing a few balls and toys towards his new companion. When a knock at the door sounded out, a frown grew on his face as the cat ran underneath his couch.

Reluctantly, Bucky stood and slowly headed towards his door. When he opened it and saw Haley standing there, he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hey,” she started quickly with a little wave. “I sent you a message but I wasn’t sure if you were home. Figured I might just knock and see, since I was in the neighbourhood. I guess I could have called..”

“I just got back this afternoon,” Bucky answered as he ushered her in. “And I never check my voicemails anyway. You alright?”

“Oh yeah. Actually a friend of mine - her cousin is playing a little show at this bar a few blocks from here so I wanted to see if you wanted to come and..” Haley cut herself off and glanced around his living room and kitchen. “Did you get a cat?”

Bucky grinned, eyebrow raised as he glanced around. “What tipped you off?” Stepping forward a few feet, he made a small cooing noise to try and get his new roommate out of hiding. “There she is - Haley, meet Alpine.”

Haley was quick to crouch down, extending her hand out as Alpine approached. “She’s so beautiful.” 

As she acquainted herself with the cat, Bucky motioned a hand across the apartment. “And while you’re here...” Bucky had heard the shower turn off before Haley came in. And by the pace of his footsteps.. “I guess I should introduce you to Sam, too.”

Haley turned her head to look towards the small hallway across the apartment, mouth dropping into a small surprised face when she saw Sam enter the room. She rushed to stand up again, “Wow, Captain America in the flesh. Honestly, I sort of assumed Bucky was just making up all his stories about you.”

Sam grinned, eyes rolling as he made his way into the living room. “And you must be Haley. I could say the same thing.”

Haley smiled back at Bucky. “Two real examples of non-imaginary friends.”

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Bucky narrowed his eyes and glanced between them both. He would be lying if he hadn’t tried to calculate what this moment might look like - although he had hoped it would have been in a more controlled environment.

What was Bucky so worried about? Sam, down to his core, exuded both confidence and kindness, and paired with extensive PR training and his years of time with Veterans’ Affairs, he could keep a conversation with anyone. Haley, on the other hand, certainly came across a lot more introverted. She came across a lot more reserved, just like Bucky himself, and it had taken a while for them both to let their guards down.

Bucky hoped that introducing his friends wouldn’t impact the progress they had made so far.

And it only took minutes for Sam and Haley to sort themselves out enough to dive into a conversation. The most unsurprising thing, even, was that Bucky ended up as the outside person in the room. He kept his attention on Alpine, who had become very acquainted with Haley’s lap as she sat on the floor.

It was unimaginably cute to see Alpine’s soft little body curled up against Haley.

“So, what do you think, Buck?” Sam’s question pulled Bucky’s gaze away from Haley’s legs. Bucky had dropped down onto the couch across from them and he narrowed his eyes, unable to figure out what Sam was asking him. 

“My friend at work, Dani, her cousin plays guitar in a Fleetwood Mac cover band,” Haley jumped in, noticing Bucky’s confusion immediately. “It’s a little bar, I’m sure it’ll be a small crowd.”

Sam motioned to the sleeping cat. “I’m sure she’ll be okay for a few hours to sleep and explore this place.”

Bucky hesitated. He supposed Sam was right - cats were independent creatures and Alpine likely could use a bit of time to herself to get used to his apartment. “I don’t know that band.”

Sam scoffed, eyes rolling as he stood up. “Of course you don’t.”

Haley offered Bucky a playful smile. “You’re going to love Fleetwood Mac.”

 ---

Bucky already felt like a terrible cat parent. When he first adopted Alpine, he had every intention for her to be his adventure cat, his partner in crime - wanting to bring her out on trips anytime the opportunity presented itself. But now, after only a month, he was already hitting a snag. 

Sam had invited him visit and strategize in Delacroix and Bucky knew he always had a bed at the Wilson homestead. But AJ had a bad cat allergy and Sarah had to put a hard ‘no’ on Bucky bringing Alpine until they could get him on some regular medication. 

And now Bucky was once again grateful for Haley. He owed her a lot for deciding to take Apine in for the week Bucky was gone. 

“Listen, I appreciate any opportunity where I can work from home a few more days during the week. I mean I have to go into the office Wednesday and Friday for a bit but hopefully by then she’ll be okay on her own.. And maybe it’ll inspire me to adopt a cat, too.”

Bucky sure hoped his continuous chorus of thank yous, plus giving Haley a giftcard for her favourite coffee shop, would express his sentiment enough. 

The day he was leaving for Louisiana, he packed up everything Alpine would need for her stay at Haley’s and made his way to her apartment. He felt silly, at first, travelling with Alpine in a special carrier backpack but her happy mewls really solidified he had made the right investment. 

Haley welcomed them both in with a smile, excitedly explaining how she had temporarily adapted her apartment for Alpine’s stay.

“I made that little corner area totally open for her box, I read that cats can be strangely territorial when in a new place so hopefully this works for her,” Haley said after shutting the door behind them, crouching down to join Bucky as he carefully put down his supplies and shrugged off the carrier. “I cleaned under my bed and in my closet too, in case she hides away. One website said..”

Bucky turned his head and caught Haley’s gaze. “You did some research about this?”

“I just don’t want you to worry, I guess.” Haley shrugged, failing to hide her embarrassment. 

Bucky immediately felt guilty about making her feel bad about any of it. “No, no. I really.. I appreciate it a lot, Hales. I’m sure she’ll do great here with you”

They both stilled as Alpine let out a quiet meow, cautiously making her way out of the carrier and sniffing the rug she had been placed down on. Bucky shifted forward, extending his hand out to give her a comforting scratch behind the ears but the quick movement was already too much - and Alpine was off, quickly scurrying away and finding a place to hide underneath Haley’s coffee table.

Bucky sighed.

“Hey,” Haley sat back on her knees and squeezed his shoulder. “Try not to worry, okay? I promise she’s in good hands.”

 ---

“Hey! Sorry, I meant you could call me anytime - it didn’t have to be – are you outside?”

“I just finished a run. Is it a bad time?”

“No, no. Looks nice there!”

“A lot of fresh air and trees. Sam says it’s good for the soul.”

“He’s right. Anyway - here, let me turn my video around. Look! Your daughter’s new favourite place to nap - above my kitchen cabinets.”

“Alpine, you daredevil.”

“I am a tiny bit concerned she’ll try to leap up on the bookcase next.”

“Good thing we anchored those to the walls.”

“She’s been an angel otherwise, minus her late night running. How has your week been though? Relaxing, I hope..”

 ---

Haley (8:05PM): bad news Haley (8:05PM): your daughter may be a future arsonist Bucky (8:09PM): ??? Haley (8:11PM): all I wanted was a nice calm relaxing bath but apparently candles are not kitten proof Haley (8:11PM): I promise she still has all her whiskers Haley (8:15PM): [IMG_3399]

Bucky’s eyes blew wide open as he loaded the photo Haley had sent him. They had been in touch all week as she provided updates about Alpine, which were mostly positive outside of a plant that didn’t survive a fall from Haley’s window ledge.

And Bucky would be lying if he didn’t admit to how much he enjoyed the little updates and check-ins about how his trip was going. He had even sent Haley a selfie of his own, plus a picture of Sam laying on the ground, flipping off Bucky’s camera, after some training had gone awry.

This photo though, of Alpine sitting on the outside of Haley’s bathtub, felt a bit different. Sure, the main focus of the camera was definitely not supposed to be the exposed parts of Haley’s legs in the water, surrounded by soft bubbles and the light coming from candles sitting precariously on the outside ledge. Bucky was supposed to be looking at his little trouble maker of a cat, who was in the middle of extending a paw to swipe the flickering flame from one of the candles.

Yes, he was definitely looking at Alpine and not immediately thinking about Haley’s legs.

“Sarah?” Bucky finally glanced up from his phone, pushing his tongue across his lips as he searched for a second opinion. “I’ve got a real world question for you. About dating and, uh, women.”

One of Bucky’s favourite parts of their evenings in Delacroix was after dinner, when he and Sarah and sometimes Sam, took to the porch. Sometimes they’d chat, other times they’d read in silence together. This time was the latter. 

Bucky looked over from his chair and caught Sarah’s curious eyebrow raise as she put her book down. Bucky was grateful Sam was inside watching a movie with his nephews at that moment.

“Oh, I love these.” Sarah moved slightly in her own seat on the porch swing, adjusting the blanket and folding her hands in her lap. “Go ahead.”

Bucky rubbed his jaw, glanced at his phone one more time then brought his attention back to Sarah. “It’s Haley related.”

Sarah nodded, doing her best to remain neutral although they had talked about Bucky’s friend before. “Sure, Haley - your friend with whom your friendship is completely platonic. Right.”

“She just sent me a photo of Alpine but she was in it too, in her bathtub.”

“In her bathtub?” Sarah repeated, making sure she heard that properly. “Like, in a bath. Naked.”

“Yeah.” When Sarah’s eyebrows went up, Bucky backtracked. “No, not like that. It was just her legs. But does that mean something?”

Sarah let out a long breath, tipping her head from side to side as she thought. “Well, I’m not much for sending photos to any man. Because ya’ll never deserve it. But, I don’t know. Is your conversation ever flirty?”

“I have no idea,” Bucky rolled his eyes, reaching for his phone and scrolling through his conversation with Haley. It was always friendly, if a little sparse on his side of things. Although he would admit that the last week since he’d been gone, they’d talked a lot more. And sometimes late at night. But what made a conversation flirty? The time it occurred? The tone?

“Listen, I don’t know Haley. But she could have probably sent that photo without her legs.. That’s all I’m saying. Maybe she’s testing the waters, to see how you’ll react.”

“And how am I supposed to react?”

“You tell me,” Sarah tipped her head to the side and studied him for another moment. “Are you interested in her that way? Do you have feelings for her?”

He tossed his phone onto the small table beside him and sighed. “I.. I don’t know.” Rediscovering his emotions had been a huge learning curve and it was still an ongoing struggle. Every single part of his being had been suppressed without his consent for decades and even now sometimes Bucky couldn’t tell the difference between what frustration felt like and what rage felt like. His spectrum was nearly impossible to understand on his best days and when he let himself even consider some of his feelings, it was an easy spiral into a lot of very dark thoughts. “I really don’t know.”

“If you were any other person in the world, I wouldn’t believe that for a second.” Sarah reached her hand across to grab one of his, giving him a gentle squeeze. “But I can’t imagine these things are fun to sort through for you. Maybe you just need to sit with it.”

“Haley is..” Bucky shook his head, indulging in the comforting touch from Sarah. “She’s one of my closest friends. That’s, uhm, important to me. Really important.”

Sarah let out a quiet laugh and nodded, squeezing his hand once more before releasing it. “Joel.. my Joel, we were friends first. For a long time before we figured it out. Sit with it, Bucky.”

 ---

Bucky was trying to ignore the pang of disappointment in his stomach when he headed to Haley’s. Given that she hadn’t responded to any of his messages, he assumed she wasn’t home and he’d be letting himself in to retrieve Alpine. 

It was strange - when he left for New Orleans, he hadn’t anticipated so much time to reflect. Despite Sam telling him it was supposed to be a vacation, Bucky hadn’t been prepared for free time with all his thoughts. But now, coming back to the city, he felt he had a changed perspective. His late night discussions with Sarah had been both beneficial and a bit of a hindrance, too.

He was really looking forward to catching up with Haley, though - that he knew for sure.

Using the key she had given him, Bucky let himself into her apartment building and headed upstairs. He checked his phone once more and sent her a quick message that he was letting himself in. He followed up with an additional ‘thank you’ text as he twisted the key into her apartment door.

A strange comfort came over him as he walked into Haley’s home. It felt so familiar in a way and he vowed to let himself unpack just what that meant. As the door shut behind him, he peered around the living room, searching for his cat. 

Bucky let out a low whistle. “Alpine?”

His eyes darted around the room - he had assumed Haley was at work, but seeing her laptop closed on the kitchen island and a leftover cup of tea on the counter, sitting beside her phone, clearly he had assumed incorrectly.

When he spotted Alpine mewling outside the bathroom door, his feeling of comfort quickly switched to something more awkward. Maybe he shouldn’t have just walked in without confirming she was home, especially if she was going to come out of the bathroom and just see him and -

He stopped his train of thoughts. There was no light on in the bathroom. And was that whimpering? It sounded… painful.

“Haley?” He took a step closer towards the door, taking in a sharp breath as he peered inside. “Jesus - Haley!”

He tried not to think the worst and prayed he wasn’t overstepping when it came to her privacy as he rushed towards her. Inside the bathroom, under the broken stream of sunlight coming in from the rest of the apartment, he found Haley curled up on the ground in a pair of leggings and a big sweatshirt. Halfway between her toilet and bathtub, she had a towel folded up under her head and half of a blanket draped over her body. The other part of her comforter was resting inside the bathtub.

“Hales - what’s going on? Are you hurt?”

Bucky crouched down, politely encouraging Alpine to stay outside the doorway. As was a given for most New York apartments, the bathroom was cramped. He extended out his hand and placed it gently on Haley’s shin.

“My whole body hurts..” Her voice was barely audible. “I think maybe… there’s this flu going around the office and..” 

He sucked in a breath. “Shit. Okay. Are you throwing up? Is that why you’ve made a bed on the floor here?”

Haley just shrugged in response, eyes closed tight. “I did, once. Tried to wash my comforter, sort of just stayed here..”

Bucky took a very brief moment to pause, dragging his hand across his jaw before taking action. When he considered his scrambled memories of the past, suddenly something came forward that hadn’t crossed his mind in years. 

Steve, his Steve. Curled up in bed, with faulty lungs and an immune system working against him. The same sting took over in his heart as he watched Haley, suffering alone and if he could place a bet, any moment she was going to dismiss him again and -

“Bucky, I’m fine.” He watched as she slowly pushed herself up to sit, leaning her back against the side of her bathtub. “I think I just need to ride this out..”

“Haley,” Bucky shuffled forward, just barely, scanning over her drooping eyelids. Hesitantly, he reached out a hand to press against her forehead. Shit. “You’re burning hot.”

Way too hot.

“I’ll be fine,” she repeated quietly, bringing her hand up to reach for her throat. “Feels sort of like..a knife..”

Okay, Bucky needed to act much more quickly now. “C’mon, maybe we need to go to urgent care or-”

“No, no.” She shook her head, pushing Bucky’s hands away. “I don’t need that.”

“Haley, if your fever is-”

“My deductible is huge. And urgent care is for emergencies.. I’m fine.” Her head lolled to the side and Bucky didn’t hide his baffled laughter.

He sat back on his knees. “How long have you had a fever?”

“Since this morningish.” She shrugged but raised a hand gingerly, motioning to her bathroom counter. “I think it’s getting better..”

Reluctantly Bucky took his eyes off her and sat up enough to see what she was pointing at. On top of her sink sat a scrap of paper, alongside a pen and thermometer. Of course Haley had been diligently tracking her own fever. He sighed, scanning over the numbers she had written down hourly. She never got to a critical temperature but that didn’t make him feel any better about her current state.

“Have you taken anything?” Bucky continued as he rinsed off her thermometer, turning to her again and waiting while she answered.

“Tylenol, a few hours ago. Don’t have any left..”

Bucky nodded then proceeded to urge the thermometer under her tongue, despite her ongoing dismissals that she was okay and he didn’t need to stay. 

He took in another long breath as it beeped, displaying a number that wasn’t any higher than she had written down earlier. He extended his left hand out and brushed it across her forehead, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly as she let out a relieved whimper at the cool touch.

“Bucky..” Haley closed her eyes and took a deep breath, or tried to. “You don’t have to do this, okay? I’ll be okay by tomorrow.”

He tried to stop his annoyed huff from escaping but Bucky felt his patience dwindling. “Why are you pushing me away? I’m trying to help.”

She squeaked out a laugh. “I called Alex and he sent me to voicemail. And god, when I called my mom - she told me..” 

“Hales, look at me.”

Haley opened one of her eyes, swallowing hard. “Okay..”

“You’ve gotta let me take care of you. Please. I’m on my knees here, begging. I want to help.”

 ---

Haley felt it coming on all week. The fatigue had crept up slowly, the growing aches throughout her body much quicker. And by that Friday morning, it was as if she had been hit by a freight train.

After her early morning team meeting, her teammate Lindsay had messaged her and immediately told her to log off because Haley ‘looked like shit’. Which, although a bit too aggressive for Haley’s liking, did help her turn her computer off quickly. And then she mostly just slept, hot then cold, cold, cold. She tried to sip on tea but it had been difficult to finish, with her sleepy eyes and sore throat.

Alpine, cute as a button, had stayed by her side the whole time. Haley had appreciated having the feline as company all week and giving Bucky updates had been fun and almost flirty at times, too. Truthfully, she wasn’t sure what to do about that and her growing, conflicting feelings so she kept them at bay as much as possible.

She had been fully planning on being at work in the office when Bucky came to collect his fluffy white child, too. Instead, though, she was struggling to stay awake and upright and couldn’t even imagine Bucky seeing her in that state.

And then, well, he went ahead and showed up at her apartment. She couldn’t fault him, of course. He had returned from his New Orleans trip and had every right to come collect his cat, especially because he assumed Haley was going to be at work. She just wished he hadn’t showed up after she had decided to make basecamp in her bathroom while trying to clean up her comforter.

But when Bucky offered to take care of her, Haley thought she’d be overwhelmed with shame and embarrassment. Instead though, a rush of good feelings washed over her instead. Safety, comfort, protection. 

Before she could even keep trying to protest, Bucky had helped her up off the floor and immediately ushered her back to bed. He pulled the soft blankets off her couch and tucked her beneath them, with a cold cloth resting against her forehead.

“I’m going to run to the pharmacy, okay? I’ll be right back.” Bucky left her phone on the side table, urging her to call him if she needed anything. Alpine curled up against Haley’s legs.

“Keep an eye on her, okay Al?” 

Haley dozed off quickly after he departed and it seemed like barely a moment had passed before he was back in her bedroom, stirring her awake with a sea of apologies. He had returned to her with an overflowing bag of supplies, rattling on quietly about all the things the pharmacist had recommended. 

After she swallowed down a few pills and shed a few additional tears choking on a disgusting syrupy formula, Bucky left her to sleep once more, not before replacing her cloth with a refreshing cold compress. 

“Just rest, Hales. You’ll feel better soon, I promise..”

Thankfully, whatever combination Bucky had administered to her had knocked Haley out - and it seemed like her body really needed it. When she finally woke up again, her head did not feel as heavy and swallowing already felt like a much more normal task. As she sat up in bed, she glanced around the room. It was dark - her curtains were still open and the city lights were spilling in. Across the room, the French doors separating her bedroom from the rest of her apartment were cracked open. Her living room lamps were glowing and she could hear some quiet footsteps coming towards her.

Bucky appeared at the door, pushing one side open gently. “Hey - you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

Haley nodded, barely. “You.. you stayed.”

“Of course I stayed.” In a few strides he came in and took a cautious seat at the end of her bed. There was a kitchen towel resting on his shoulder. It made Haley’s chest swirl.

“I’m feeling better, I think.” She shrugged, desperately trying to dismiss the rush of domestic thoughts coming to her mind. “I think I have like ten percent of my energy back.”

A slow relieved sigh escaped Bucky’s lips. “I’m happy to hear that. Apparently this flu has been going around and really doing numbers on people, says the pharmacist I talked to earlier at least. They said by around 48 hours you should be –”

“Wait, Bucky. I’m probably contagious - are you okay with that? I might have immediately passed along my germs and..”

“I was cursed with a very good immune system,” he said simply, resting his hand on her leg. “Don’t worry about me.”

Her lips curled into a small smile. “I think I want to try and have a shower.”

Bucky waited and made sure she could get herself out of bed without collapsing then let her continue on her own, though he did awkwardly offer his assistance if she might need it. Haley tried to ignore whatever that might mean, instead just indulging in the warm water and letting the stream drown out the rest of her thoughts.

God, what a week it had been. She wasn’t entirely sure what had flipped the switch in her but it seemed that all of a sudden, Bucky’s presence in her life was causing her heart to stir. If she had to pinpoint the catalyst, she could blame it on Dani, her closest friend from work. Ever since Haley had brought Sam and Bucky out to the bar weeks ago, Dani had been in her ear about Haley’s friendship with Bucky. And when Dani found out they technically met on a weird non-date at the bar, she had even more questions that Haley couldn’t answer.

Bucky was her best friend, was all Haley could insist. And she tried so hard to leave it at that.

Then, well, this whole flu thing had happened and it was mucking everything up. Haley wasn’t mad Bucky was taking care of her - in fact, she was grateful. But it wasn’t making anything clearer for her.

When she got out of the shower and had changed into a fresh pair of pajamas, Haley finally emerged from the bathroom and found Bucky working in her kitchen. He was standing at the stove, singing something quietly to himself as he stirred a pot of - was that soup?

“Sarah sent me her healing chicken soup recipe - apparently it’s a cure for most ailments,” Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t mask his smirk. “If you think you could eat something.”

“I could try,” Haley nodded, sliding into one of the stools at her small island. She sipped the warm broth mostly, indulging in the fresh ginger taste and feeling almost excited that her appetite was slowly returning. 

Bucky leaned forward across from her, studying her before pressing a palm against her forehead. “I think maybe your fever broke.”

Haley smirked. “See? I told you I’d be okay.”

“Yeah, yeah. Finish your soup, Fisher.”

---

After they ate, Bucky suggested watching a movie but Haley argued she wouldn’t be able to focus. She still felt tired but was fighting it off. Instead, they just set up camp on the couch. 

Alpine perched at the window between the bookcases, watching the world below. Bucky retrieved Haley’s now clean comforter from the dryer down the hall and returned the other blankets to the couch, then dropped onto it.

It happened so organically - the way Haley grabbed the closest pillow from the couch and placed it against Bucky’s hip, laying down and resting her head in his lap as she pulled a blanket over her body. Bucky didn’t question it. And when he adjusted his arm, reaching out to rest it against her side then moving up to run his fingers through her hair, there was no protest from Haley.

Haley relaxed. Bucky settled. 

They sat together, quiet. Eventually, Bucky picked up the book he had been reading and used one hand to prop it open and flip through the pages while Haley rested.

When her breathing picked up and he heard a quiet sniffle, Bucky stilled. “Hales?”

“I called my mom earlier. Because when you’re sick, you just want someone to help, right? I figured my mom would.. I know she doesn’t live here but god forbid she tries and offers me comfort. Do you know what she told me?” Haley choked out a laugh, pressing herself further against Bucky. “She said to look on the bright side, because the last time she had a stomach bug she lost eight and a half pounds.” 

Bucky’s hand clamped around the book as he took in a sharp breath. “Haley, I’ve gotta say it - your mom sounds really unpleasant.”

Haley reached her arm up and clutched onto Bucky’s leg. “Yeah, that’s a fair descriptor. Her idea of what makes someone valuable though.. I don’t know, it’s pretty broken. I know she loves me but sometimes it feels like she’d like me more if I was.. less.” 

Bucky moved his hand from the crown of Haley’s head to rub her back. “You don’t deserve that.” The longer it took Haley to reply, the more anxious Bucky grew. And then, he felt her let out a long breath.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Bucky.”

Bucky let his hand draw circles and shapes against Haley’s back until she fell asleep on him, although he worried she’d wake up with a kink in her neck. Selfishly, he didn’t want to encourage her back to bed - because he liked the warmth of her presence, of her body at his side. 

It was dangerous territory - the way an unexpected sense of intimacy had taken over their moment. But Bucky was putting into practice what Sarah had suggested, sitting with his feelings, trying to figure them out. 

He had an answer now to Sarah’s big question. Did he have feelings for Haley? Yes. But what made it even worse is that he had no fucking clue what to do about it.

---

thank you again for reading! I’d love to hear your thoughts if you enjoyed this chapter. up next: adventures in online dating, again.

[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 

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CHAPTER 1: THE DISCOVERY 

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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. 

[imtheiliad]

Buddie with animal prompt number 2? With cat dad Eddie and pining Buck, maybe?

See anon- you read my mind, that is precisely the one that caught my interest too :P

for a cat [1.9k | fluff | angst | pining idiots] tw: minor panic attack {ao3} @buddiebingo square: texting prompt: You're obsessed with your cat and when I take care of it while you're gone, I have to send you daily photos and we video-chat; the cat's starting to not be the only one wanting you to come home soon a/n: this got longer and more angsty then originally planned :P title from for a cat by storyman which doesn't really have much to do with the story, but it does actually idk, it was just the first thing i thought of with cat in it. pls ignore my stupid windows emojis.

About a month ago Eddie had found a small cat mewling in the rain under one of the bushes of the front yard. And had instantaneously become the most overprotective and genuinely fantastic cat dad Buck had ever seen.

Sure he saw everything that Eddie did through rose-tinted glasses, falling down the slippery slope into the in love with your best friend pit of despair. But Eddie was quite literally the most overbearing cat dad, and Buck discovered this when Eddie and Chris needed to make a last-minute trip to Texas.

“Are you ever like this with Chris?” Buck asks as he flips through the pages of typed out instructions and guidelines for caring for Noodles,

“Yes? I send an extensive email to anyone he’s going to be spending time with, especially if I’m not around.”Eddie replies stacking cat food cans on the counter, counting them as he goes to make sure Buck will have enough for the week.

“You never sent me any of those emails,” Buck says, nose too buried in the extensive list of daily tasks to notice the bright flush rush across Eddie’s face, “you never asked any of those parents to send a picture twice a day did you?”

Eddie coughs a little before answering, “No. And you’re really fine staying here with her?”

“Yes, Eds. It doesn’t actually change much in terms of my routine to be here instead of the loft.” Buck swallows.

He drops them off at the airport, watches them walk into the terminal, and proceeds to bang his head against the steering wheel.

Noodles was shy and stuck by Eddie like a shadow, not cuddling with anyone else, never incessantly requesting to be fed an hour early by anyone else. She was Eddie’s cat. And that didn’t change over the course of the first day. It was Buck’s days off, so he tried to lounge around the house, watching tv, but felt awkward the entire time. Sure he felt more at home here than at the loft. But that was when Eddie or Chris were here too. Now it feels, just weird. Eddie never mentioned where Buck should sleep, and it feels too weird to use Eddie’s bed without him. And it feels too eerily similar to the tug in his chest he felt just about a year ago. It would probably help if Noodles was anywhere in sight. His reason to be here in front of him and tangible. But she was nowhere to be found. Probably under Eddie’s bed in the nest she had made herself.

He cracks open a can of food while his pizza is in the oven and she doesn’t make an appearance then either. It’s not until he settles on the couch, movie playing softly on the tv, pizza slice halfway in his mouth that she comes creeping out.

They lock eyes briefly before she scampers off into the kitchen.

Buck gingerly steps toward the kitchen, not crossing the threshold to snap a quick picture.

He sends it off to Eddie with the caption, first i’ve seen of her all day.

A few minutes later his phone buzzes Eddie 🚨 loved an image and again she’ll warm up to you.

Buck just sends an eye roll emoji. He types out several messages that sound too close to I miss you, before tossing his phone across the couch and returning his focus to the movie and pizza.

In the morning he opens another can as his coffee gurgles out of the ancient machine resting on Eddie’s counter, And Noodles actually enters the kitchen while he is still in it.

He’s sitting on the couch sipping his coffee, suddenly she is sitting on the other end on the arm, quietly licking her paw.

He takes the picture, sending it off- making progress 🙂

See! Told you.

Buck, are you sleeping on the couch?

Yes?

Eddie doesn’t continue his questions.

That night Buck wakes, still on the couch, sweat on the edges of his brow, and a few tears streaking his face, with a cat standing on his chest.

She meows and then hops down, glancing up at Buck and meows again. When he doesn’t move she continues to stare a meow. And he just wants to go to sleep, maybe it will be less nightmare filled. He hopes at least.

He’s desperate. And Eddie did say call anytime. And it was nearing 6 am in Texas so he could be awake.

Eddie picks up because he always does,

“Buck?”

“She won’t stop meowing at me.” it comes out breathy and rough and he feels ridiculous that he is nearly in tears over this, but it was just the final straw in the stack of being in this house without Eddie, being in love with Eddie, and the nightmares of losing Eddie, because that’s what happens to the people he loves- he loses them.

“Where are you?”

“The couch?”

“She’s telling you to go to bed.”

“I was asleep,” Buck says hesitantly,

“Buck, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just, I had a nightmare and now she won’t-”

Eddie lets out a sigh, and Buck can almost hear his smile,

“She’s inviting into her space, our space. Because she knows. She’s trying to help.” Eddie is trying desperately not to let the obviousness that this is something that happens to him enough that they have established this routine,

“Oh,”

“So will you just sleep in my bed? You’ll sleep better anyway. That couch is murder for more than one night in a row.”

“Yeah, okay. Sorry I called.”

“Buck? Don’t be. I missed your voice.”

And Buck’s heart stutters and leaps into his throat,

“Miss yours too.” he chokes out before hanging up.

He gathers his blanket and pillow from the couch, cause it still felt weird to sleep in Eddie’s bed.

Noodles glances up at him before trotting off towards the room, routinely checking that Buck was behind her.

He wakes again with Noodles purring on his chest, and he decides to facetime Eddie this time.

“A facetime call?”

“I thought you might want to hear her purring,” Buck whispers gently stroking between her ears,

“You got the full treatment I see.” Eddie smiles, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, um, I think just a lot of things stacked up on each other. I’ll talk to Dr. Copeland about it.”

“You can talk to me too Buck.”

And Buck swallows because he really can’t, not without making it clear as day that he is in love with Eddie.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t think I can right now. I have a shift.”

“Hey Chris, do you want to say hi to Buck and Noodles?”

The response comes in the form of a gleeful shriek before Chris’ face enters the frame,

“Hi, Buck! You okay?”

“I miss you, and a little sad. But Noodles is helping and seeing you and your dad makes it better.”

Eddie quirks his brow in the background, clearly confused by the fact the 11 year old got more out of buck in 15 seconds than he did in 2 minutes.

Buck catching his mistake,

“Well I gotta get ready for the day but I’ll call you later!”

He hangs up the phone and groans. Noodles chirps reassuringly,

“Oh we are really in now aren't we noodles,” Buck sighs lifting her up a little so he could carry her to the kitchen.

He sets out the bowl of dry food for while he has a 24 and makes sure her water is full and clean before heading out of the house.

The shift inches by slowly, because there are few calls, but mostly because Eddie isn’t there. And the weight of the nightmare still rests in the back of his head.

Eddie calls him as soon as the shift is over as if sensing that he was making his way towards his jeep.

“Hey, how was your shift?”

“Slow, weird without you.”

Buck can hear the sad smile,

“Sorry. I know those are hard.”

“Hey, at least this time I know it’s temporary.” Buck smiles, trying to make the conversation light so they don’t drift into dangerous waters, at least while he is behind the wheel.

They chat about random things, Chris relays the stories of his adventures with his cousins. And then he’s home. At Eddie’s house.

He switches the callto facetime so Eddie can see that he has kept Noodles alive. Noodles, who is waiting for him on the arm of the couch staring at the door when he makes his way inside.

Once he’s settled on the couch, Eddie clears his throat a little,

“What was going on yesterday morning?” his brow is furrowed and there is a hint of his dad voice,

“I, um, my feelings got all turned around because, uh, well, I am spending time in your house without you, I was sleeping on the couch, and the last time I did that was-”

“Oh, Buck,”

Buck’s breath hitches, “And we’re coming up on a year. So it just all got tangled up. Because when I love someone they leave. And I don’t- I can’t-” His chest feels tight, and he doesn’t even care about the implications of the sentence,

“Hey, Buck, breathe with me. Some of those things are feelings that are completely natural to have in this situation. But those others, it might feel like that, and I understand where that comes from, but it’s not true. Those people who left, it wasn’t your fault, and it wasn’t because you loved them. The important people come back, right?”

Buck nods, his breath evening out,

“Now, grab a snack and a Gatorade from the fridge, and then take a nap. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Buck replies voice a little cracked.

Noodles is by his feet throughout the process and immediately cuddles into his side when he lands on the bed, pulling the blanket around him.

“That’s it. Feeling better?” Eddie asks,

Buck hums, his hand buried in Noodles’ body, thumb lightly stroking her chin.

“Okay, I’ll stay on until you’re asleep.”

Buck stirs as he feels the bed dip, his blanket being tucked tighter around him, and fingers running through his hair, quiet whispers of reassurance in his ear,

Noodles meows and he opens his eyes,

“--die? What‘re you doing here?”

“Decided to come back a day early. I didn’t need to be there. Couldn’t be there longer I guess. And I don’t know, being so far away when I knew you were upset, just,” he bites his lip, “knowing that having me here might help even just a little bit? Made the choice so easy.” Eddie brushes a tear off Buck’s cheek that he didn’t even know was there, “Because I love you too.” Eddie continues as if he just hasn’t turned Buck’s life upside down, “I am not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, remember?” Eddie presses a kiss into his hairline,

“You figured that out huh” Buck smiles,

“Figured it out? I mean I guess so. But I thought I was being very obvious. And looking back, I was being obvious before I even figured it out. So…”

“I do, love you, by the way.” Buck smiles,

Noodles plops herself down between them, making it clear that she wanted to be the center of attention.

“Well, she’s adopted you.” Eddie says, “Told you she would warm up.”

“Pretty sure she just likes the attention, but I’ll take it.”

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Love Me, or Let Me Go (Wanda Maximoff/ Reader)

Hello!

Double Lizzie!

Um... No comment other than brace yourselves. Enjoy! :)

“Do you have to go?” You mumbled into Wanda’s collar bone, smiling slightly at the way she absently ran her fingers up and down your spine. “I think your skills will be better utilized here. With me.” You added, softly kissing the base of her neck.

Her body shivered as her hands began gently stroking through your hair. “I’m sorry, krasivaya. I have to.”

Curiosity blossomed in your chest when the foreign word fell from her lips. “What does that mean?”

“Beautiful.” She replied without hesitation. Your cheeks flushed at the term of endearment.

Making your way up her neck, you allowed your lips to linger teasingly at the corner of her mouth. “Is there a way I can convince you to stay?”

Once again, Wanda shivered, and you felt pleased at the way her breathing became uneven. “Y/n…” She whispered, gently tugging you forward to meet her lips in a heated kiss. A moment later she rolled onto you, her lips moving passionately against your own.

You easily wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, so close that you weren’t sure where she ended, and you began.

The moment was interrupted by the shrill sound of a phone ringing. Wanda began pulling away, but you chased after her lips. “Ignore it.” You mumbled against her lips.

For a moment it seemed like she was going to ignore the call until the ringing started again. “I have to get that.” Wanda said quietly with a small smile. She pressed three quick kisses to your lips before she rolled off of you.

You groaned in displeasure and Wanda just laughed at your response.

As she stepped away to take the call, you pulled on your sweater that was carelessly thrown on the floor. For the first time since the day before you picked up your phone, noticing a few missed messages and calls. You decided to open the messages from Leigh first.

Is it socially acceptable

to throw hot coffee at

men when they whistle

at you? Asking for a

friend.

Sent 9:02 AM

You couldn’t help but laugh at the message as you scrolled on, seeing she had sent two more following the first one.

Jules said to bark at

them. Would that scare

them away or get me

institutionalized?

Sent 9:27 AM

Do you maybe want

to come over tonight?

Sent 2:46 PM

Reading over the last message surprised you. After the talk you had at your office you had begun to see glimpses of the Leigh you knew was hidden by the walls that she had built.

That’s not to say she changed overnight, but the hurricane had settled into a storm. You could navigate that.

Just as you were about to reply that you had plans, Wanda walked back into the room. A sheepish smile spread across her lips as she took a seat next to you. “Let me guess, you’re smiling like that because you’re staying, and we can watch movies and cuddle?” You murmured sarcastically.

Wanda leaned forward and once again pressed three short kisses to your lips. “Unfortunately not, dorogaya.” She took your hand in her own. “I actually have to leave now instead of later tonight. I should only be gone for a day or two though.”

You sighed, and Wanda smiled back at you. “I’m going to miss you.” You admitted. No time with Wanda ever seemed to be enough.

Without a word, she pulled you to your feet, tugging off the sweatshirt she was wearing in the process. All you could manage to do was stare at her in awe. She laughed and reached out to pull off your sweater as well which you easily complied with.

This woman isn’t real. There’s no way she’s real. Your thoughts screamed at you as your mind short-circuited at the sight of her. Wanda giggled.

Your brow furrowed in confusion when she pulled a sweatshirt back over your head. “What are you doing?” You asked with a puzzled smile.

Wanda put your sweater on before answering. “Now you have a piece of me and I have a piece of you. For when I miss you.” She leaned forward and lightly pecked your lips. “And you miss me.”

You melted at her words.

Once you had heard someone say that you don’t remember days, you remember moments and this moment here, with Wanda… This moment you’d remember forever.

Three words hung on your lips, but you forced them back down. It was too soon to say them. “Hurry back to me.” You whispered, giving her one final kiss.

“As fast as I can.” She promised with a soft smile, lingering in the doorway. Wanda always lingered before she left, as if it would be the last time she saw you. Butterflies filled your stomach with the way she looked at you before she sent you one final smile and closed the door behind herself.

With a content sigh, you threw yourself back on your bed, smiling up at the ceiling for a moment.

After a few minutes you pulled out your phone, erasing the reply you had begun to type out to Leigh and sending a new one.

Hey. I’ll be there.

Should I bring anything?

Read 3:11 PM

Institutionalized yet?

Read 3:12 PM

Not institutionalized

YET… but it’s still early.

Sent 3:13 PM

Can you bring flour?

We’re making pizza

from scratch tonight.

Sent 3:14 PM

What an accomplishment!

Cooking? I think you

forgot how terrible of

cook I am.

Read 3:15 PM

It really is, be proud.

It’s flour and water. How

hard can it be? Come over

at 6.

Sent 3:15 PM

If you say so. See you then.

Read 3:16 PM

_______________

It turned out making pizza from scratch was a lot harder than Leigh made it seem. “Why is it so… slimy?” You mumbled, poking what was supposed to be the dough with your finger. You made a face when it jiggled.

“I told you to follow the recipe.” Leigh called in a sing song voice from her place by the stove.

You rolled your eyes. “I did!” She pursed her lips but didn’t comment further. “Hey, there will be no judging!”

A small smirk spread across her lips as she stirred the sauce in the pan. “But I’m so good at it.” She quipped back sarcastically.

Petulantly you poked the dough again. “But I’m so good at it.” You mocked under your breath.

There was a soft click as Leigh turned off the stove, her eyes squinted at you slightly. “Are you mocking me?”

You shrugged challengingly. “What if I am?”

Leigh tilted her head slightly, her lips pressed together in an amused smile. “I don’t know…” She began walking towards the counter slowly as you eyed her wearily. You knew that look. She was up to something. “I might have to do this.”

Before you could react, she had tossed a hand full of flour your way. You gasped. “You didn’t.” Leigh bit her lip to fight back her laughter. “Oh, it’s on.”

As you reached for one of the tomatoes, she sprinted around to the other side of the counter. “Listen, Y/n, we can talk about this.” A short laugh fell from her lips as she mockingly held up her hands.

“What was that?” You grinned, raising the tomato slightly. Leigh’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t hear you with all this flour in my ears.” Quickly scrambling over the counter, you reached out and smashed the tomato into the front of her shirt.

That action unleashed chaos as you and Leigh chased each other around the kitchen with various items that were originally supposed to be for the pizza. When there were no ingredients left, you leaned against the counter, laughing at what disasters you both were.

Leigh laughed along with you and you felt your chest tighten when you heard the sound you had spent so long adoring. She looked so carefree. You missed that. “Alright. I’m going to go change now. Thank you for turning me into the beginnings of pizza dough.”

You playfully squinted your eyes at her. “Says the one who threw flour first.” She opened her mouth to retort. “Go change!” You playfully shouted with a laugh.

With one final teasing glare, Leigh walked off to her room. When she left, you turned to face the kitchen, wincing at the mess you two had made. With a one final grimace, you grabbed a rag and began wiping down the counter.

“Boo!” Jules said loudly, causing you to jump in surprise.

The shock of your friends sudden appearance made you clutch your chest as you shook your head in amusement at her. “Was that necessary?”

Jules shrugged as she leaned against the counter. “You look like a mess.” She commented offhandedly. You just laughed, not offering an explanation for your appearance.

A short moment of silence settled in the air as you continued cleaning up the mess. “Don’t give up on her.” Jules said suddenly.

You froze slightly. “What?”

Even though you didn’t turn you could hear Jules sigh. “On Leigh. Don’t give up on her.” She repeated quietly. “Last year was a nightmare for her. She lost Matt in more ways than one and learned some pretty painful things about him. And to be honest… I don’t think she ever really recovered from losing you either.”

You clenched the rag tightly in your hands before begrudgingly turning to face her. “I’m not giving up on her, Jules. Why do you think I’m here? I want to be her friend again. To be there for her.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You furrowed your brows in confusion. “Look, Matt was amazing, and Leigh loved him so much. We all did… but towards the end they had drifted apart. They weren’t on the same wavelength anymore. She had to compromise herself. I don’t think she's ever had to do that with you.”

You sighed, but Jules continued on. “Leigh isn’t used to being loved anymore. That’s why she pushes you away. That’s why she said what she did on her birthday.”

The tightening in your chest made a reappearance. “Yeah, well, Leigh made her decision two years ago.”

Jules subtly shook her head. “Someday she’s going to realize that your what she wanted all along... It may not seem like it, but she’s happiest when she’s with you.”

The weight of her words rendered you speechless as you stared blankly at a spot on the counter. “Jules, I-” Wanda’s name was on your lips when she interrupted you.

“She’s a lot, trust me, I know better than most… but don’t give up on her.” She repeated once more in a hurried voice. She stood up just in time for Leigh to walk back in. “Alright, have a fun night you two!” She called out as she rushed out the room, sending you one last meaningful look before she disappeared.

Leigh chuckled as she turned her attention to you. “What was that about?”

Through the fog in your mind you managed a weak, “Nothing.”. Leigh’s eyebrows raised curiously but she didn’t question it. “I’m going to go wash my face.” You mumbled rushing out of the room.

When you reached the bathroom you quickly splashed your face with water, trying desperately to shake Jules’ words from your mind. After a few minutes, you felt calm enough to make your way back to the kitchen.

Leigh was cleaning up, but she looked up when she heard you wander back in. “Hey, I ordered pizza. I didn’t think there was a way for us to salvage… this.” She gestured vaguely to the final creation left standing, your slimy pizza dough.

You shuddered at the sight. “We need to destroy that before it grows legs and walks out of here.” Leigh laughed as she dropped the ball of dough into the trashcan. “What’d you order?” You asked as you leaned your forearms against the counter.

Leigh mimicked your stance and tilted her head to face you. “Extra pineapple.” You stared at her in disbelief for a moment. “I’m kidding. I got spinach and sun-dried tomatoes. That’s still your favorite, right?”

A small smile spread across your lips. “Yeah… it’s still my favorite.” You said quietly. You knew she hated those toppings, but she ordered them anyway. The small action confused you.

________________

After you had both finished eating, you were both sat on the couch, talking casually when your phone buzzed. When you opened the message, you were greeted by a picture of Wanda with a goofy smile, wearing your sweater.

Miss you.

Sent 9:53 PM

The message was simple, but you couldn’t help the adoring way you smiled at your phone. Leigh quirked her eyebrows curiously. “What’s got you so smiley?” She peeked over before you could move your phone out of her sight. The smile on her face fell immediately. “Seriously?”

A heavy sigh fell from your lips at her tone. “Leigh-”

“What? So, are you dating now?” She asked, her words clipped.

Your gaze fell to the floor. “Yes- No- I don’t know? We haven’t talked about labels.” You admitted quietly.

Her lips pressed in a line as she shook her head disbelievingly. “Right. Well, tonight was fun. I’m going to bed now.”

As she stood you followed after her. “What’s your problem?” You demanded. Tired of all the back and forth.

“I don’t have a problem.” Leigh called over her shoulder, feigning disintrest as she continued making her way towards the staircase.

“You obviously do because every time I mention Wanda you shut down.” You grabbed her hand and spun her back around to face you.

Leigh yanked her hand out of your grasp. “Because you’re using her as a placeholder to get over me!” She shouted, making you flinch.

The heat of the moment made it impossible to process your words before they tumbled from your lips. “I’m not, I love her!”

Her mouth fell open as she stared at you in shock, the fight leaving her system. “…What?”

You pushed a frustrated hand through your hair. “I’m in love with her. With Wanda.” You sighed. Your gaze falling to the floor because you weren’t sure you could handle another minute under her scrutinizing stare. “With the way she plays with her fingers when she’s nervous. With the way she scrunches her nose when she’s excited. With the way she lingers in the doorway every time she has to leave. With the way she lets the world move around her because-”

“Why her?’ Leigh interrupted quietly. You tried to ignore the way her eyes glistened.

“Because whenever something happens, she’s the first person I want to tell.” You replied without missing a beat.

For a moment Leigh just stared at you. You noticed the way her lip quivered ever so slightly. “Did you love me?”

The shock of the question rendered you speechless for a moment. “You can’t be serious.” The way she blinked back at you made it clear she was serious. “I loved you to the point of ruin, Leigh. I loved you so much that I had to build myself from the ground up again because all that was left of me was ashes after you chose him.” Your breathing became ragged as you fought to push your words out. “I loved you enough to let you go but you keep pulling me back.”

Her gaze fell to the floor, but she didn’t respond. “Why do you even care? You don’t want me. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

She paused and took a breath, her eyes never meeting yours. “Y/n, I never-… I l-… If you're going to leave then go.”

“You can’t keep doing this to me.” You sighed. “Love me or let me go, Leigh.”

You winced at your word choice but didn’t take them back. When it was clear she wasn’t going to say anything else, you nodded slightly, accepting the silence as her answer.

Unable to take it anymore, you turned and left.

_______________

Hours later you had fallen into a restless sleep until repetitive banging on your front door startled you awake. You were surprised to find Leigh on your doorstep, the bags under her eyes were more apparent than ever. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but worry.

The worry faded when she spoke.

“I hate you.”

A disbelieving laugh fell from your lips. “Wow. Okay, that’s great, Leigh. Thank you for driving all the way over here at 1 in the morning to tell me that.” You began closing the door when she put her hand on it to stop you. You didn’t fight her.

Leigh continued as if you hadn’t even spoken. Her eyes glistened brightly under the light of the moon. "I hate you because every time I’m around you it feels wrong.”

You fought desperately to ignore the pain that bloomed in your chest at her words. “Alright. I get it, Leigh.” You mumbled staring down at the floor. You couldn’t understand why she was doing this. “You can go now.”

“I hate you because you make it so fucking hard to be around you and not love you.” Your eyes shot up to meet hers just as tears began falling down her cheeks. You couldn’t breathe. “It feels wrong because nothing about it feels wrong and it should. It feels wrong because everything about you feels right. You shouldn’t feel right, and I feel so fucking guilty, Y/n.”

All you could do was stare back at her, all your words wiped entirely from your mind. Her lip began to quiver once again. “Say something.” Leigh pleaded. You opened and closed your mouth, but no words came out.

Eventually your frustration took precedence because why now? Why not two years ago? “What do you expect me to say to that, Leigh?”

Leigh used her palm to wipe the tears that flowed steadily down her cheeks. “Say that you haven’t given up on me yet.” She whispered.

Jules words rang in your mind as you struggled to keep your breath steady. “Why now?”

“Because you’re like oxygen to me and I’ve been holding my breath for too long… Because I don’t want to lose you without knowing that I tried.” Leigh took your hand and held it to her chest, much like you did the day of her wedding. “Does it feel like this to you?”

Your breath hitched when she repeated the words you once told her back to you. “I love Wanda.” You whispered, feeling her hand slacken slightly in your own, but her eyes continued to shine with determination.

“Do you want us to be done?” She asked, holding her breath.

The way she was looking at you was unbearable as you shut your eyes to avoid the emotions that came with meeting her gaze. “I don’t- I don’t know.” You stuttered out.

“Well, I don’t. I don’t want us to be done.” When you opened your eyes again Leigh gently wiped away a tear that had fallen down your cheek.

For a moment you both stared at one another, the emotions making the air around you feel heavy. Leigh gently took one of your hands and slowly brought it up to her cheek. She lightly kissed the inside of your palm before she leaned into it. Your chest clenched as you watched her closely.

You allowed yourself to get lost in the feeling of her skin under your fingertips. Her lips parted slightly as you saw her eyes fall to your lips, her chest rising and falling unsteadily with shallow breathes.

A moment later, Leigh slowly leaned into you, her lips tentatively pressing against your own. You had kissed Leigh dozens of times before, but none had ever been like this. It was as though she was trying to pour all her emotions into this one kiss. To make you understand how she felt with this one kiss.

When you realized what was happening you quickly pulled away. “Leigh, stop. I can’t do this to Wanda.” You stepped back, putting a fair distance between you both.

Leigh’s eyes filled with sadness, but she nodded faintly. “Please, just think about what I said.” You nodded, not feeling up to saying anything else. “I’m not giving up on you.”

With a final nod, Leigh turned and got into her car which you watched drive away. All you wanted to do was scream in frustration.

____________________

Even though you were expecting it, the knock on your door made you jump. Anxiety quickly overcame you as you rushed over to open the door. Your heart thudded guiltily against your ribcage when your eyes fell on a smiling Wanda. “Hi, krasivaya.”

All you could do was leap into her arms, quickly pulling away when you felt her flinch. “Are you okay?”

Wanda managed an unconvincing nod as she pulled you back in. “Just fell on the trip, I’m okay. Holding you is worth it.” As gently as you could, you wrapped your arms around her and breathed in her sweet scent. The anxiety you felt earlier easing slightly in her presence.

“I missed you.” You said quietly, as you pulled her in and led her to the couch.

“I missed you too.” She replied back without hesitation. Your gaze fell to your lap and you could feel Wanda’s concern without even looking at her. “What’s wrong?”

Her fingers slid against your palm as she squeezed your hand gently. You had to tell her. Everything. “There’s something you should know.” You said quietly. The concern in Wanda’s eyes grew.

Part 5! Um... it had to happen. Also I feel like this part was particularly important because we got to see a different side of Leigh. Sure, she's a lot sadness most of the time but if you watch the show, she's actually kind of dorky when she's not mad or sad. Hopefully this showed more of her depth.

How's the team Leigh vs. Team Wanda debate?

I hope you all enjoyed! I am so excited to read all your comments about this part! Remember, thoughts and comments are always welcome. :)

Tag list:

@khiaraaa-in-spacee // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo //@halobaby // @madamevirgo // @aimezvousbrahms //@trikruismybitch // @marvels-writings // @izalesbean // @imdreamingblo // @i-choose-you-cyndaquil // @helloalycia // @scarlets-maximoff // @cantcontroltheirfear // @women-am-i-right // @funnysoldier // @myfavoriteficss // @imapotatao // @imagine-reblog // @blackxwidowsxwife // @purplemeetsblue // @cristin-rjd // @raven-ss // @legaypandaboi

[we-love-redwing]

Continued from the first post:

And here is how you repaid my kindness.

Hurting my friend @loganschuchuzinho

(This screenshot was sent BY YOU to Chuch. You’re such a dumbass, you didn’t think it would be used against you)

By attacking my friends. The very people I hold dear. And then you attack me. Now, I haven’t been targeted until now. I guess that’s because you idiotically thought I was on your side. But the moment that you find out I wasn’t you respond with childish name calling.

You are nothing but a sorry motherfucker who is crying for attention. In the month I have known you, I have had reports of you “killing yourself” just to come into that same persons DMs a few hours later.

Next is a quote from @/the-insufferable-trickster. They posted this on their main account so I hope they are okay with me quoting them on this.

“I'm not really sure what LLD has said about me, something about how I they 'don't want to be my friend' or some other silliness. That's not the truth. The truth? I originally wrote them a message in dm stating that trying to find Taco's phone number and location was not safe and that as adults of this webbed site, we need to make better choices. That lead to an account called 'llamapunch-69' attacking my old main blog. I am talking hundreds of messages in mere minutes, calling me insults, names, the r slur, and that I needed to 'apologize' or they would 'haunt me' and 'ruin me.' That terrified me greatly and I first sent an ask with my apology. Llamapunch-69 [which really is an alt of LLD] didn't stop. They demanded that my apology be 'real' that I dm it privately to them. And I did because at this point I was terrified of what they would do if I didn't apologize. LLD and I talked, smoothed things over and we ended up exchanging discords.

Our relationship lasted maybe 2-ish days? Not even a week. It was mostly LLD dumping to me about all these 'horrible' bullies and what they were doing to them. And I believed it. Until I was at work for an 8 hour shift and severely overwhelmed by the amount they texted me. I unfriended them on Discord. I never blocked them, I unfriended them for the sole purpose of regaining myself and my plan was to continue talking after work. That never happened. When I got off work I found a message on tumblr from LLD which can be summed up as "goodbye, I am ending myself." And more from llamapunch-69 [Well an alt of llamapunch] telling me that if 'their friend hurts themselves they are blaming me.' This led to an ask from an account I had never met before called manifest-your-destiny. They politely said in the ask that they were LLD's friend and that they wanted to know what LLD did in order to get 'blocked.'

That led to an almost two hour conversation over Tumblr between Manifest and I. I apologized again and again for unfriending them and tried to explain over and over that no I didn't hate them, no I didn't mean to upset them, that it was not my intention.

Mind you I had gotten off work maybe twenty minutes ago. My job involves a lot of high activity and I was exhausted and emotionally drained. Yet I continued to pour from an empty pitcher and apologizing for daring to unfriend them.”

This poor individual was attacked for something that did not deserve being attacked over. This has hurt them dearly. And as they said, they also took time out of their busy and tired life to deal with all of this shit.

Here’s another quote from them “In this conversation I was actually near tears because as the time stamp shows it was 11:14pm at night. I wanted to go to bed and just relax, but instead I am apologizing and in tears from trying to explain the same concepts.”

All of your shit has impacted these people very much. And I have tried my best to deal with the fall out with those close to me. But now, I am coming for you directly. This has to stop. If you want to target someone, target me you mother fucking bastard.

You don’t deserve the time nor attention any one of these amazing people have given you. And yet, here I am once again wasting my time on you. You want to know why? Because I am actually a good fucking person who cares about people. I care about my friends. And I will do anything to help them. So if you want to scrap, I am available. Send all your shitty little messages to me. Send all the hate my way.

But if you ever hurt one of my friends again, I promise there is no place on earth or hell you can hide where I won’t find you.

So put an end to this shit now before I take it off the internet, and bring it to real life.

Well hello @asgards-trickster-god . Ive been waiting for weeks for you to curse my inbox so I can finally give you a piece of my mind.

My friends have been very kind to you. I will not show the same consideration to a douchebag who is targeting the most important people in my life.

So let us begin. You are going to try some bullshit excuse saying that “you didn’t send this.” Well, word to the wise dumbass, dont use shit like “I”. It makes it hella obvious who you are.

Here is the ask you sent to my account using an alt. I am not scared of name calling. I am not scared of you. You should be scared of me.

If anyone here is a bully, it is you. Despite you denying all allegations of telling someone to kill themselves, the evidence is right here. Even if, by some miracle all of the other evidence is fake, you have just said that someone should die. Just because you have perfected the art of hiding behind the mask of being the victim, you have really slipped up here. You have made it painfully obvious considering that less than 24 hours ago I admitted that I am not on your side in this.

And now you dare to attack me. The person who has supposedly “saved your life”. I have the messages to prove that I did my due diligence because I didn’t want you to die.

Now, I really do not give fuck. You have hurt my friend Chuch. You have hurt my friend Kayla. And the moment you decided to go after Casey, I decided I am officially putting an end to this.

So let’s start from the beginning, as I know it.

I will not reveal how I have these screenshots for fear of you doing more stupid shit and attack more people.

You have shown aggression, without provocation.

You have dismissed someone’s trauma and brought up something that obviously hurts them.

And then that last message that says “youre being a fucking asshole”. I have seen the entire conversation. I have had my fair share of assholes. This was not the work of one. They were nothing but kind and you were just looking for a way to attack.

And then the nerve of you to say “fuck your PTSD”. And then you sent pictures of your self harm to someone. I don’t care who you are, how fucked up in the head you are. NO ONE should ever do the things you have.

And I am only just beginning.

Let’s go onto you baiting people with fake suicide attempts.

This is the first account of you “taking pills” that has been sent to me.

Now, you have also reached out to me about this same thing and I attempted to help you.

To give time stamps, we talked from until 1:23 am my time. I took time out of my night, after a hard day of work to help you. I had to be up in 5 hours. Did I give a shit? No. I decided to help you.

Tumblr apparently had a 10 image post cap so I will be reblogging this with the remainder of my message

[hxt1b]

Why Can’t We? - Extended

Masterlist 

Jaehyun x Reader 

WC: 4.2k 

Genre: Angst (YouTuber Reader x Idol Jaehyun)

Warning: Smut and Swearing 

Original Post: Why Can’t We?

A/N: Hey thank you so much for the love on the original little blurb I wrote. I decided to write an extended version of it for you guys. I hope you like it! If you haven’t read the original I’ve linked it. This is sort of a part two but you could read this without reading the blurb as well hence why I don’t think it fits to call it a part two. Again the grammar may be iffy, I tried my best but things probably still slipped through, regardless I hope you guys like this. Let me know your thoughts. And if anyone wants to send me any requests you can go do that here. I appreciate them and will get to them as soon as I can!

You were slumped over your desk, staring at the work you had in front of you. Your business partner/ best friend was expecting this to be done by the end of the night. The video needed to be out by eight pm. It was already seven, you couldn’t focus though and you knew that if you called her and just explained to her that you fucked up. That you did the one thing you shouldn’t have. That you slept with Jaehyun. She’d help you. But you couldn’t process the fact yourself, you couldn’t process the emotions that were still running through you. You couldn’t believe that you ran. Yet you knew there was no other option. You knew how you felt about him, and Jaehyun never made any move to hide his feelings. Not from you. 

But it wouldn’t work and you knew that, you were so wrapped up in your YouTube channel and all the other opportunities that were coming your way, and he was… well he was Jung Jaehyun. You couldn’t see yourself by his side. Not with how much you’d have to hide it, not with all his fans. They’d find out, your whole life was on the internet, his was too. It wouldn’t work, it would only lead to more heartbreak. Heartbreak at a greater scale one that you could not take. 

You held yourself back as much as you could but last night you couldn’t. Not with the way he looked at you, his eyes showing every emotion he had inside him, not with the way  his mouth felt against yours, the way his hands moved against your skin. You could still feel his breath on your skin. 

A shiver ran down your spine and you were brought back to the computer in front of you. A video of you and your best friend staring back at you. You’d only edited the first four minutes, there was two hours' worth of footage waiting for you. 

Sighing you grabbed your phone, biting your lip you kept yourself from looking at the missed calls you had from him and messages he had sent you. You ignored the burning in you to open them, to reply, to call him back. Instead, you called your friend. 

Her happy voice coming through after the first ring. 

“Hey, dude what’s up?”  

“So listen, I uh I’m gonna need another hour to edit that video it’ll be a little late is that okay?” You said, your voice slightly shaking. 

“Yeah yeah, that's fine.” Her voice fell to a concerned tone, “Is everything okay?” 

“Sorry, yeah I just haven’t been having the best day ya know.” You ran your finger along the side of your desk as you spoke to her. Your mind wandering back to Jaehyun. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She asked. 

“No there’s nothing to talk about just one of those slow and tiring days.” You lied. She hummed on the other side of the line dropping the topic. 

“Take your time with the video’s its fine if it goes up late we can put it up tomorrow too. Just send out a tweet.” You nodded even though she couldn’t see you. 

“Okay, I’ll do that. Thank you.” 

Hanging up you opened your Twitter app. Quickly typing out the tweet. You scrolled through your feed as your tweet blew up, you weren’t huge on YouTube but you had a decent amount of subscribers that your posting schedule mattered. 

Minutes ticked by as you liked and replied to some tweets that came your way. But scrolling came to be a mistake. A thread about Jaehyun appeared on your feed and you couldn’t help but open it, your heart aching as the thread appreciated Jaehyun dimples. You loved his dimples as much as anyone else. The difference was that you had a front seat to him. You’d poked your finger into those dimples so many times over the span of time that you and Jaehyun had known each other. 

Quickly closing the app you came face to face again with all the notifications regarding him. Blinking as your eyes stung you bit your lip again. There was only one option in your head again, you couldn’t handle the ache that your heart felt right now imagine if it was on a grander scale. You had to stop this now. 

Opening his contact information on your phone you blocked his number, and on Instagram and every other platform he could contact you. Your vision blurred and your headached as you put your phone back down on your desk. 

You couldn’t edit the video today anyway. Getting up from your desk chair you made your way to your bed and buried yourself under your blankets as a few tears slipped down your cheek. 

Two weeks passed and Jaehyun was a mess, his head was somewhere else constantly, he couldn’t focus on his work. He couldn’t think straight. He just moved from day to day as he became more and more numb. He’d called you, texted you but you hadn’t returned anything. Short of going to your apartment, he’d done everything he could, and that was something he wasn’t going to do. Not after you blocked him. 

He dropped his head into the palms of his hands, the bitter pain of the action hitting him again. You’d actually blocked him. The tears gathered in the corners of his eyes again but he blinked them away. But it all hurt, everything hurt. His head hurt from the anger he felt towards you, yet his heart ached for you. The fight in him tired him out daily. The other boys were noticing, Johnny had tried to talk to him about it but Jaehyun didn’t know what to say. 

She fucked me and left, oh and while she left she ripped my heart out and stomped on it because there is no way she doesn’t know that I love her. 

Jaehyun knew you were cautious, he could sense your fear. But when you slept together that day he’d hoped you’d forget it, that you’d understand that it could work. That with you he’d make it work. He’d hoped that you’d see it. But clearly, you hadn’t. 

You hadn’t even given it a chance. 

You saw him everywhere all of sudden. You blocked him but you still saw him everywhere. It had been a month since you’d last seen him and noting was easier. You’d lied to yourself then and you would lie to yourself now. Because this was for the best.  

You sighed again as another clip of Jaehyun popped up in your Instagram feed. They’d just had another comeback and it was shaping into your biggest nightmare very fast. Scrolling again you came across a clip from a recent interview. He was smiling and laughing with Jungwoo. His dimples showing up as he threw his head back and laughed at something Jungwoo had said to him. Another sigh slipped out your lips as you scrolled again. 

“Oh, my fuck. I swear Y/N if you fucking sigh again I’ll knock you out into next week.” Your best friend was staring at you from where she stood setting up the camera for today's shoot. 

“What is even wrong with you. For the past month, you’ve been sad and angry and you constantly don’t want to talk about it and I respected that but today I’ve had enough.” Her hands had moved to her hips as she glared down at you. 

Looking away from her you ran your tongue over your drying lips. 

“Talk to me Y/N.” She demanded and before you knew it everything spilled out. From the day you met Jaehyun nine months ago, to all the flirting. You told her about all the dates you’d gone on, you even told her how you insisted on calling them friend dates. Watched movies in his room, kicking Jungwoo out so that it would be just the two of you. Making cakes in his kitchen and doing the most cliche things while making them. You told her all of it, how you slept with him and blocked him because you were scared. Obviously, she knew of Jaehyun she’d even met him on many occasions but she didn’t know the details, because for some reason your brain had told you that if your best friend knew them. That if you spoke of the events that the feelings would become real, that it would all become real. 

“You're scared?” She questioned her face contorting into an expression bordering on disgust. “Scared. You?” She was sitting beside you a scowl embedded into her face. 

“Dude, we don’t scare. We meet shit head-on. Our channel is thriving because we didn’t give in to the fear that we would fail. We got where we are with that practice. We don’t fear shit. Especially not the complicated shit because we always make it work we always try.”  

She didn’t even blink as she spoke, you knew she was right, but it was easier said than done wasn’t it? But she was right you didn’t fear failure with your work and it paid off and you loved it. 

“But it’s so much more complicated now. I don’t think I can fix this.” 

“You have to try. Because I can’t stand this behaviour anymore. Fix it, babe, at least try and if it doesn’t work I’ll be here and we’ll move past it.” You nodded as she spoke. Glad that she was your best friend. 

“So I should go talk to him? Apologize? Tell him what was going on in my head?” 

“Yeah, dude just talk to him.” She looked at you expectantly as she got up and went back to fixing the camera angle. 

“Okay can you set up the mic’s now, you can talk to him after we film. Now help me.” 

Three hours later you were dragging your feet towards his dorm. You’d planned out what to say and how to say it, after you filmed, in your mirror. Your best friend giving you the thumbs up when you left. 

Looking up as you neared the dorm, the air left your lungs. There he was walking towards you, smiling down at a beautiful girl. He looked happy. You watched them as they walked slowly talking about god knows what, your hands fisted at your side as she laughed at something he said. Your insides turned and you felt like you were gonna puke. But you had no right. You were the one who left, you uncurled your hand as your eyes began to sting. 

What did you think was going to happen? That you’d leave him and he’d sit around waiting for you. That when you walked into his dorm today he’d take you back with open arms like you hadn’t left his bed and then blocked him on everything. You shook your head blinking back the tears.  

You bit your lip and looked away from them. There was no way back into his life and it was clear and it was your fault., but you had to look at him again. Just one last time. Just to see that smile, those dimples one last time in person even if you weren’t the one he was smiling at. 

Turning your head back to him your entire body froze. He was already looking at you. Stopped a few feet back from the entrance of the dorm. The girl digging around her bag for something. Your heart thumped in your chest, your blood flowing fast, the rush of it the only sound in your ears. 

Your eyes stung again, you couldn’t cry. Not here. Turning away from him you walked away quickly. You needed to get away fast, he shouldn’t have seen you. You felt selfish that you’d stood there that long, that you’d tried to steal that last glance. You should have walked away sooner. The tears slipped down your cheeks, leaving cold wet trails in their wake. 

A hand grabbed your wrist, whipping you around. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t. His hand tightened around your wrist. 

“So you’re gonna run away again?” You didn’t say anything back. What would you even say because the truth was yes. Yes, you were. He scoffed and dropped your hand, taking a step away from you. 

“You're with a girl, you’re happy I don’t want to intrude.” You still weren’t looking at him, keeping your eyes trained on the ground to your left. 

“Look at me.” He said his voice even. You refused. 

“Look at me!” His tone was harsher, slowly you turned your head to him your eyes taking in his face, from far he had looked like the perfect Jaehyun you always saw, but up close you could see the slight darkness under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, the sadness in his eyes as yours finally locked onto them. “Do I look happy to you? That girl is my cousin.” You stayed silent not knowing what to say. 

He let out a humourless laugh, “You don’t have anything to say. Why am I shocked?” He ran his hand through his hair and took a step towards you. 

“Fine then let me talk. Let me tell you about how you fucked me up, how for the past month I’ve been trying to figure out what I did wrong to have you block me, to have you kick me out of your life so easily. What did I do that was so wrong.” His voice broke on the last word as tears began to trail down his face. You were frozen in your spot, your hands shaking at your side. 

Everything that you’d wanted to say, everything you’d thought to say out your head. You watched as he broke down in front of you, your heartbreaking with each tear that ran down his cheek. Slowly you raised your hand taking a step closer to him, you hesitated only for a second before pulling him to you. 

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong. I'm the one that fucked up. I'm the one that ran away, and I’m the one that is so sorry. I'm so sorry for everything Jaehyun.” His arms wrapped around your body pulling you into him, his hands fisting at the back fabric of your coat. 

“I was scared, scared about everything. Scared that it would all only hurt us more in the end. I was trying to make it easier.” This time your voice cracked as you began to cry. His arms tightened around you. 

“I'm so sorry, I’m so stupid. I ran away and I’m so sorry.” It was hard for you to talk through your tears. You tried to calm down by taking in breaths of air. You needed to stop crying. “Please forgive me.” 

You looked up at him, his eyes were red from his tears that had stopped. His eyes softened as they took in your face. He didn’t say anything to you just moved his face to yours, softly pressing his lips against yours. 

“Let me make it up to you.” You said pulling away from his lips. 

You pulled him into your apartment, taking your coat off and throwing it onto your couch. Prompting him to do the same. You grabbed his hand once his coat was off and pulled him into your bedroom. Your mouth returning to his as soon as you closed the door. The kiss was slow and soft, both of you taking each other in. Pulling away from him you looked at his face, his brown eyes dark you were sure you reflected the same desire back to him that you saw. Pressing your lips back to his you let your hands trail down his chest as his stayed planted on your waist. Weaving your hand under his shirt you raked your cold fingers ups his abs earning a shiver from him. You smiled pulling away from him and pulled his shirt up over his head and tossed it aside. 

Your breath hitched as you took in the sight of his bare torso, pressing yourself back to him you pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, softly sinking your teeth into the same spot before sucking the skin into your mouth. Jaehyun moaned, his hands moving up the back of your t-shirt pulling you against him. You could feel his member hard and pressed against you in-between the both of you. 

Licking the spot to soothe the sting you pressed a kiss to the slowly darkening mark, before moving further down. You kissed down his chest, softly pressing your lips against his hot skin. You marvelled in the way his breathing became shallow as you moved onto your knees. Hooking your fingers into the buttons of his jeans you undid them pulled them down along with his boxers. You pushed him back towards your bed letting him step out the articles of clothing and sit down as you slowly wrapped your hand around his throbbing cock. He was already so hard. You looked up at him as you slowly moved your hand down before licking the tip, wiping away the moisture that had gathered there. 

He groaned at your action, his eyes locked with yours as you made your way down his dick kissing down the underside towards his balls before sticking your tongue out and licking back up to his tip. His cock twitched in your hand as you wrapped your lips around his head. One of his hands twisted into the back of your hair softly grabbing your locks. 

Jaehyun’s head fell back as you moved him further into your mouth, you went slow letting yourself feel each vein with your tongue as you fit him into your mouth. Soft moans spilled from him, flowing towards you as you begin to move him in and out of your mouth, using your hand to massage the rest of him that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. 

A soft growl fell from his lips as he pulled you off him. 

“You can finish that some other time.” He said, yanking you up into his lap you straddled him, as he kissed you roughly his tongue entering your mouth and quickly meeting yours. You moaned into him as his hands moved under your shirt one hand unclasping your bra. 

“Fuck.” he cursed pulling away from you before pulling your shirt off and throwing it across the room. He tangled his hand in the hair at the back of your head again pulling you towards him to press his mouth to yours as you let your bra fall off and tossed it onto the ground. The thumb of his other hand drawing circles at your hip. 

He stood up taking you with him, not breaking the kiss as he did. You groaned as his dick pressed against your clothed core, causing heat to rush through you. He tossed you onto the bed before quickly following you. 

“I’m so fucked.” He said before pressing his lips into your neck, sucking the skin as you had done before on him. You moaned letting your hand fly to the back of his head as he moved down towards your chest, leaving open-mouthed kissed until he got your breast.

He lifted his head from you and stared at you, his eyes almost black with lust. Your breathing was laboured as he smirked at you before returning his mouth to your nipple. He harshly sucked it into his mouth pulling it up between his teeth. You let out a breathy moan, his name flowing out of your mouth, as your chest arched off the bed following his mouth. He laughed before letting your nipple pop out of his mouth and pushed up you back into the mattress before kissing over to your other breast copying his action before moving his kisses down your stomach. 

You writhed under him as his mouth got closer to where you wanted him. Hooking his fingers into your legging he pulled them down leaving you in only your panties. He looked up at you before looking back down at your covered core. Your cheeks reddened as he smiled. 

“Your so wet baby, you soaked through your panties.” His voice was thick with lust, his face showing on full display his desire for you. 

“For you,” you panted back, as he pressed a finger to you over your panties. 

“For me.” He whispered to himself before pulling your underwear down. He hovered his face over your clit, you could feel his breath teasing you. Bucking your hips towards him wanting him to do something already. You snaked your hand down to his hair. 

“Please.” You whined pushing yourself up towards him again. He chuckled, taking your hand from his hair. He held it at your stomach pushing you down back to the bed before he ran his tongue up your slit. Your eyes closed shut as your loud moans filled the room. He repeated the action before taking your clit into his mouth sucking on the swollen nub.  

“Jaehyun.” You whined moving your other hand to his hair only for him to grab it and hold it down next to your other one. You whined trying to move your hips but being unable to as he held you down. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him now. 

“Baby please, you can finish that some other time.” You said stealing his words from earlier. “I need you.” He pulled back from you, his mouth covered in you. He let go of your hands letting you loop them around his neck as you pulled him back up to you. Immediately pressing your lips against his in a heated kiss, you tasted yourself on his tongue. 

A deep moan fell from your lips as he slipped his cock between your folds slowly moving so that the tip was hitting your clit. His hand wrapped around your head weaving into the hair at the top as the other one knotted into the sheets next to your head. 

He pressed his forehead against yours closing his eyes as he continued to repeat his action savouring the breathy moans that fell from your open mouth. 

“Please.” You whined when you had as much as you could take, “I need you. Please.”  You begged.  

His breathing mirrored your own, harsh shared breaths as he lined himself up at your entrance, slowly pushing himself in. Your eyes fell shut at the stretch, you clenched around him as he took his time sliding into you taking in the feeling of your tight walls around him. 

“Fuck,” He muttered against your mouth followed by a soft moan as he bottomed out. You both breathed heavily as he stayed still, agonizing seconds passed before he pulled back again before spanning his hips back to you. Your head twisted to the side as he picked up his pace. He bit into the soft skin of your jaw as he moved in and out of you. 

The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room along with your moans, overwhelming your mind as he fucked you into a daze. You drowned in your head with every snap of his hips, you could feel him hitting your g-spot with each thrust pushing you closer you climax. 

Sweat dotted his forehead as his thrusts sped up, throwing you off the edge into the depths. Your back arched off the bed, your chest pressing against his as he took your lips up with his swiping his tongue against yours mirroring the action of his hips as he thrust into you harsher chasing after his release. You moaned his name but it sounded far off to your ears as you shook underneath him. Your walls clenching around his cock, finally his dick twitched and he came spilling himself into you. A loud moan leaving him followed by heavy breathing as he looked down at you. He let his head fall into the crook of your neck as you both came down from your highs. 

“I’m so fucked,” He whispered to you. “Don’t run away from me again Y/N. I won’t be able to take it again.” He said and pressed a kiss to your shoulder. 

“I’m not going anywhere Jaehyun.” You said stroking his back with your hand. 

“Good because, Y/N, I really like you.” You turned your head to him, his eyes meeting yours as you did. You could see the emotion in his eyes, you could see the truth behind his words, the real words he’d wanted to say. 

“I really like you too, Jaehyun.” You said, also keeping the grander emotion with you. For now. You had plenty of time to say it to him. To hear it from him, because you weren’t going anywhere, but the three words rattled around your brain, your heart your entire being as you looked at him before pressing your lips against his. 

I love you. 

[tarosin]

did i do that p2

paring implied past platonic tommy/tubbo/ranboo x reader

tw: cursing, de realisation, mentions of suicide/death/paranoia

TW: de realisation, mentions of suicide/death/paranoia

Dear quackity,

if you’re reading this, it’s too late. you’ve probably noticed me and dream are nowhere to be found, you may ask yourself why did sam let the pair out well the answer to that is simple. he didn’t i’m sure you can find what remains of him somewhere around the prison. you really have yourself to blame, now before you start to get defensive and say ‘i didn’t do anything this is bullshit everyone’s trying to attack me’ let me tell you why. before you decided to give us weekly visits just to abuse us mentally and physically, we couldn’t stand each other. I’d go as far as to say I despised dream, but you helped unite us against a common enemy..you. now we’re unstoppable. I'll spare you the details of what happened to your precious warden. see you soon - Y/n + dream :)

“do you think he’ll be convinced we killed sam?”

“dream i’m in here for the murder of a child, of course he’s going to believe it.”

of course the pair of you didn’t actually kill sam, dream simply manipulated ranboo whilst he was enderwalking into bringing supplies you’d need. you have no idea how he managed, but at this point you didn’t care. you know damn well you shouldn’t be in this prison as you didn’t kill michael. you knew this because the ghost, at least you hope it’s his ghost and that your mind wasn’t messing with you, would stand in the corner of the cell telling you that it wasn’t you who murdered him that night. It was a range of factors: the skeletons, fear, pure exhaustion of trying to run from the mobs after him. you often found yourself ranting to dream about what you had been seeing every night for the past god knows how many months at this point, but alas it was no use. he swore he hadn’t seen anyone but you, occasionally sam, and quackity, definitely not the ghost of michael. It was now midnight according to the clock hanging on the wall. the plan was pretty simple, you would scream that dream had disappeared, causing sam to run into the cell, from then you’d use the rope ranboo gave dream to make temporary handcuffs, and whilst you all make your way to the locker room, where you’d temporarily keep sam assuming quackity would find him sooner or later, then that was it you’d finally be free.

“ready?” you nodded and dream hid in the corner, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, but nevertheless you began screaming that dream disappeared, laughing to yourself as you heard the platform moving towards the cell.

“y/n calm down what do you mean- dream get off of me i don’t want to have to kill you but i will!”

dream rolled his eyes as you tied sams hands together.

“shut the fuck up sam, do you understand how pathetic you sound? you’re outnumbered you’re not going to do anything. if you know what’s good for you and your beloved quackity, you’ll tell us which pocket has your key cards in, okay?” this seemed to trigger something in sam as within 10 minutes you and dream had him in the locker room.

“bye sam, i’m sure your boyfriend will come and collect you soon enough, we left him a letter in the cell and a note from you where you always sit saying to just go on through, don’t miss us too much!”

there you both stood, in-front of the now locked locker room, no home, no friends, no plan, but you were free, that's all that matters to you.

“dream, i have something to ask, okay? promise no matter whatever happens, whether you don’t see me for weeks or you over hear something, you won’t come looking for me.“

“stay safe y/n, a lot of people aren’t going to be happy you’re out. whatever you do, avoid quackity.”

and just like that you went your separate ways, where dream went, you have no idea, you’ll probably hear something soon enough. as for you, well you didn’t really have a plan, you weren't really sure you wanted to be alive at this point. there was a little voice that sounded a lot like tommys ringing in your head, telling you to go to the old base you and tommy made years ago, so that’s where you went. you were clinging onto the hope tommy would be there and let you explain what happened that night, you’d make up then just like old times you’d plait his hair, as the pair of you sat under moonlight listening to whichever disk tommy felt like playing that night. this of course wasn’t the case, instead you were met with previous memories of your friendship. a photo book lay in the middle of the floor as if someone knew you escaped and would go to this base, you shut the door locking it behind you for your own safety, remembering what ranboo said to you the day you were thrown in the prison. picking up the photo book you noticed something odd, the words ‘i know what you did’ and ‘i know where you are’ were scratched into the leather cover. you threw the book onto the floor scared as hell. after you calmed down, you picked the book up from the floor, which was now open on the page of a group photo of you tommy and michael, which ranboo had taken the day you both agreed to babysit him for a while. as you flicked through the book, the images got dark. It went from photos of you tubbo ranboo and tommy laughing at the beach to the night michael was killed. the last page made your blood run cold, there was two photos, one was of michaels funeral, and the second was a picture of you sat in the middle of the base holding the photo book. this was the final straw. You were no longer in control of your breathing, you began feeling like you were being preyed on by something who really wasn’t happy with you and wanted you gone, you picked up the book one last time and everything was gone. the book was back to normal no threatening messages no pictures of michaels death or of you looking through the book, the cover was back to its original state full of happy memories of when you were friends with everyone, back when you were happy.

“hello y/n.”the rooms temperature dropped suddenly you began feeling like you were being watched, you turned around to see michael sat on the floor holding a photo book a lot like the one that caused you to panic.

“hey y/n why are my parents acting like they can’t see me anymore? this isn’t funny anymore, i miss them. can you talk to them?”

“michael... this isn’t real. you’re not real. GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

everything went silent as if the world stopped turning for a few seconds, that’s when you heard the child laughing.

“what do you mean i’m not real? of course i am!”

“michael darling, you're dead remember, we spoke about this in prison. the skeletons shot you in the nether”

you continued talking to michael, not even realising ranboo had followed you to the base and was watching you talk to the wall.

“who are you talking to?”

you honestly didn’t know whether you felt relieved he was there with you or if you were pissed he found you, either way you ran to him pulling him into a hug despite him constantly telling you to let go of him.

“michael, he’s over there.”

“Is this some sick joke? There's no one there. he’s dead. you killed him!”

“ranboo please.. you, you don’t understand i didn’t kill him. please just let me explain what happened. he was surrounded by skeletons. they shot him please, you have to understand I loved that boy, I still do, I would never do something like that!”

“save it y/n, i don’t want to hear it now if you don’t mind i’m going to go tell sam that you have somehow escaped.”

you fell to your knees as ranboo walked away, you sat alone with the quiet comprehension of the ending of it all before realising if someone comes back you would be in big trouble, just before you was about to begin the long walk back to dream he showed up to the base you were currently crying in, not knowing tubbo and ranboo were not far behind him listening in to your conversation with dream.

“dream please i’m begging at this point. Please end my suffering. I can't do this anymore, no one’s listening to me. I CAN'T KEEP LIVING LIKE THIS! there’s a bow and arrow in that chest over there.”

“y/n, this isn’t a funny joke.”

“dream, do i look like i’m joking?”

“y/n..”

“hey, what can you say? we were overdue.”

tubbo and ranboo couldn’t believe what they were hearing right now, their best friend was about to die and there was nothing they could do about it. as soon as they heard dream open the chest, they ran as fast as they could to go and get tommy.

dream left straight away, it was hard to feel regret when you’re used to bloodshed. tommy couldn’t believe what tubbo and ranboo said and was convinced they were messing with him.

“Oh, I'm sure they did. how’d they get out the prison? did they fly out?”

he stood laughing, tubbo stood staring in disbelief, ranboo stood wiping his eyes trying not to cry knowing it would scar if he did. tubbo shook his head and grabbed his husbands hand for comfort.

“you’re really joking at a time like this?”

“we should tell phil.”

the three of them made their way to phil, guilt following them as they went they couldn’t believe what just happened. after they told phil, they all made their way to the base. as soon as the three teenagers saw the trail of blood dream left behind, they completely broke down and began walking, holding onto each other in an attempt to convince themselves this didn’t happen, and that you would be there. phil went in and saw your lifeless body laying there, knowing the others wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you like this, he sent them away to go and get technoblade. A few days later they found themselves sitting with puffy explaining what happened and what you had told them. realisation slowly hit them that you did in fact not kill michael, they felt awful the three of them couldn’t sleep since the day you passed. after the funeral, they often found themselves at your house as it was the only place that they could sleep and feel as though you were still with them. everyday they would visit your grave, placing anything they found that reminds them of you, and would apologise for not believing you sooner. now you were gone and there was nothing they could do about it.

tags:

@bozowrites

[softomi]

Catfish

prompt: mother says to be wary of people you meet on the internet, especially since you never know who’s on the other side of the screen. 

pairing: atsumu x reader

the unpaid extras: osamu, suna

general taglist: @graykageyama

Osamu liked to mess with his brother and lately he’s been planning the largest prank. It originally wasn’t supposed become a huge thing, but then Suna just kept edging him on; adding more things one by one and it just spiraled. Osamu was catfishing Atsumu with your pictures.

Now, Osamu knows that it sounds bad but technically you were in on the prank. You had never met nor even knew Atsumu, heck, you didn’t even know who Osamu was. You had been part of the prank merely through text messages and the occasional meet up with Suna.

To put it simply, Suna met you through one of his teammates; coincidentally you ended up in one of his classes and the two of you built a tiny friendship. Which was why, when Suna was thinking of the perfect person to catfish Atsumu with; your face lit up in his head.

You were the perfect candidate, exactly Atsumu’s type literally to a tee. When Suna pulled up your contact, the first thing he did was offer to pay you. Every picture you sent used for the prank, he’ll send you cash through an app and as a broke college student who needed cash fast, you agreed as long as the photos weren’t used for anything weird or sexual. He made sure to send you proof of each photo in use.

This brings it all back to dear Osamu catfishing his brother. He had created an entirely new Instagram for you, complete using your name and a cute description that him and Suna had spent two hours thinking of. They decided to even spend a few days perfecting it, posting pictures a few days apart with captions, following random groups, liking posts, essentially creating a whole new personality using your photos. Osamu had even developed a fake occupation for you; a foodie blogger to which some posts were dedicated to food reviews for restaurants Osamu deemed worthy of a post.

And when Osamu says that the prank spiraled; it fucking spiraled. Originally it started with Suna and Osamu following the account, suddenly Suna’s teammates began following the account. Osamu made the mistake of tagging Onigirl Miya in one of your photos, ultimately adding a few random people to follow the account. Suddenly after two weeks of having the account, you gained over two thousand follows.

It was no worries though, because Osamu can quickly catfish Atsumu, take down the account, and call it all good.

Safe to say, Atsumu accepted the friend request rather quickly. Osamu and Suna snicker to themselves, it took Atsumu less than five minutes to accept and he was already liking all of your photos. Not even ten minutes pass and he’s sliding into the DM’s.

The two men looking at the phone and burst into laughter. They spend five minutes cackling at Atsumu’s random ‘hey’ message that followed with a smiling emoji.

Osamu was absolutely entertained, it was hilarious that his own brother had fallen for his catfish and honestly, Osamu was ready to give up the act after three days but then Atsumu said something that just really pissed him off. He doesn’t remember what it was, he just suddenly ended up two more weeks later still having the fake Instagram account and still having Atsumu believe that he was falling in love with some girl.

Somehow the account ended up with over five thousand followers, Atsumu messages the account religiously, and Osamu for some godly reason is still managing the account three months later. It’s spiraled.

“I have a girlfriend!” Atsumu doesn’t know why his friend and brother are laughing. He’s scrolling through your Instagram, the catfish Instagram.

Osamu almost chokes on his food, “So what, have you guys gone on a date? Have you even seen her in real life?” Suna snorts into his drink, he coughs when he accidentally inhales the water sharply.

Atsumu slumps in his seat, his voice small, “No, but we talk every day and she likes me!”

Suna is coughing even harder now, tears threatening to leave his eyes to the point that he excuses himself to the bathroom. Osamu has a shit eating grin on his face, “How do you know she’s actually not some old dude catfishing you?”

“She’s not!” Atsumu stutters, “She’s real!”

“Prove it.”

Osamu was about to learn a harsh lesson about the world; the world loves to bite you in the ass when you least expect it.

Atsumu leans forward, an eerie grin on his lips, “Happily.” Atsumu whips out his phone, quickly presses a number and holds the phone to his ear. He holds a finger up to his brother, even gesturing for the returning Suna to remain quiet. The phone picks up, “Hey babe, you wanna meet me here at Onigiri Miya?” Atsumu looks at the watch on his wrist, “Twenty minutes? Perfect.”

Osamu’s believing his brother is bluffing. There was no way in hell he’d be able to somehow magically bring the catfish to life, heck, Atsumu would be a god if suddenly he could. Thirty minutes pass, Osamu is exchanging looks with Suna. It’s absolutely silent between the three.

Osamu is suddenly feeling guilty, Suna is uncomfortable to the point that he’s even texting you to make sure you weren’t actually coming, and you confirmed with him that you weren’t.

“Should we tell him?” Osamu whispers when another five minutes pass.

Suna is deadpanned, “I don’t know, we’re kind of reaching a sad territory now. Let’s just break up with him and ghost him.”

Osamu groans, “But do we want to deal with a sad Atsumu, I’ll take getting my ass kicked over him crying in my apartment.”

The door chimes and their jaws smack the floor. You walked through the door, eyes roaming the place before landing on the three huddled into the corner. Is he a fucking god? Atsumu stands from his seat, he meets you halfway, pulling you into a heartfelt kiss that has you swooning.

The closer you approach with Atsumu’s arm around your shoulder, the more they truly begin to believe that Atsumu is a god.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend.” This time it’s Atsumu who has a shit-eating grin, “Ain’t she a beauty, the pictures don’t do her justice.”

It takes everything in Osamu to not scream, “But, you said you’d never even met her before.”

Atsumu gazes into your eyes, hearts practically floating above his head, “I mean I guess technically this is our first-time meeting, right?”

You nod, a puppy like expression on your face, “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. You must be Osamu.” You point to him then your fingers drag to the other male, “Suna.”

“Oh.” Suna sits straight up, “Oh!” He catches the glint in your eyes, the conniving little minx of a look. Suna was no longer calm, “We’ve been double crossed!”

There’s screaming, fingers are being pointed at each other, Atsumu is gripping Osamu by the neck of his shirt, Suna is literally calling your phone to make sure that it’s actually you, Osamu is pulling his brother’s hair. The customers of the restaurant stare with their jaws dropped at the scene.

Everyone is squished into Osamu’s small office. Suna is sitting on the desktop, Osamu in his chair, Atsumu in the spare seat, and you lean on the arm of Atsumu’s chair. His arm dangles around your waist, pulling you to lean on him with a cheery grin.

Atsumu leans forward, taking in the expressions of the two bewildered boys, “I guess let’s start at the beginning.”

While the story technically began three months ago with Suna asking for your cooperation, the story of you and Atsumu began two months ago.

The extra cash from all the pictures you sent Suna was giving you enough to be able to go out and live a little on the weekends. Originally the bar was dead, you and your friends were tucked into the corner in a booth when a rowdy bunch of men came in. Your friends gasped having recognize them as members of a sports team and with their excitement, they must have won a game.

It didn’t affect your group that much until it came to split ways; being in your last year of university, you excused yourself, insisting that you needed to go home to finish a project. As you stood at the register, card tapping against the counter, that was when he showed up.

At this point, Atsumu had spent the past hour believing the gods were on his side. He practically walked by your table ten times just to make sure the face matched the one in his instagram’s DM. After forty minutes of the constant back and forth, your quick gazes at him walking by the table seem to do nothing. Were you unable to recognize him?

He took his shot watching you stand alone at the counter. He finishes off his drink and smoothly strides to you.

“Hey!” Atsumu leans on the counter, flashing a smile despite alcohol dripping from the side of his mouth, “Wouldn’t you consider this fate?” He gestures between the both of you.

You’re confused, shooting him a puzzled gaze, “Sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.” You hand the card to the worker, anxiously eyeing the male who’s increasingly invading your space.

Atsumu places a hand on the small of your back, it was something Instagram you had mentioned you liked, instead it triggered a fight or flight. Your hand makes harsh contact with his cheek, he retracts his hand immediately.

“Don’t touch me!” You bark at him, “Perv.” You’re aggressively signing the receipt, storming out of the door while other men seem to ooh at Atsumu’s situation.

“Hey!” Atsumu catches your figure outside of the bar, you’re waving a hand to catch a cab, “I think we got off on the wrong foot there.”

You don’t give him a second glance, “Look, I don’t know who you think you are.”

“Atsumu.” He stands right in front of you, blocking your sights for a cab. He’s got the widest smile on his face as he holds out a hand, “Miya Atsumu. Volleyball player. Setter for the Black Jackals.”

“Okay.” You run a hand through your hair, oddly taking his hand into a shake while eyeing him, “Miya Atsumu, volleyball player, setter for the Black Jackals.”

You step to the side, arm out still trying to catch a taxi but he blocks your way once more and he looks at you with such wonder. His eyes practically having stars coming out and his smile warm and inviting. He was wondering if you were a twin, maybe he had actually gotten the wrong person.

“You are?”

The wind is causing your hair to blow in your face, he wants to so bad to brush the strands behind your ears but the way you gave him a slap earlier makes him think that’s a bad idea. Your fingers pull your hair back, “Y/n. I don’t have a fancy title like yours but, I guess I don’t know, senior to be graduating at the university.” You sidestep him once more, “I’m just trying to catch a cab home.”

Once more he blocks your way and you look at him with defeat. He was persistent. He laughs, “Sorry, last time, but do you not know me?”

You’re still as confused as ever, “Look if you’re going to pull some cheesy line about seeing me before, it’s not going to work.”

“Wait, just hold on a second.” Atsumu pulls out his phone, his fingers are shaking as he presses onto the app. He pulls up your profile, handing you his cell phone, “This is you isn’t it?!”

Your eyes scan the social media page, your mouth falling open, there’s a hidden laugh itching in your throat. These were all the picture you had taken for Suna and somehow, you’re being shown by a stranger your fake profile.

“We’ve been messaging for like a month, I can’t believe you don’t recognize me.”

I don’t recognize you because I’m not the one talking to you.

You’re perplexed, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, if you told him he’s being catfished you’d lose the flow of side cash you’ve developed but if you didn’t, isn’t that just wrong. And the more you look at him from under the stars, he’s rather cute; you suddenly feel bad for slapping his face earlier.

“Do you want to get some coffee?”

Your offer sends him over the moon, he’s walking alongside you to the nearest convenience; Atsumu is rather talkative, bringing up topics of everything and anything that comes to his mind. As the two of you look over drink options in the cooler, his hands pull two cans of black coffee.

“You’re favorite right?” He holds one out to you.

Your actively smiling, biting your lower lip and wondering if you needed to play along with the role but as he stares at you with such adoring eyes, it makes your heart skip a beat just taking in the fact that he would remember something trivial over text.

“Actually.” You place the drink back, opting for a sweeter caramel macchiato, “I would say that this is my favorite.”

Atsumu quirks a brow, “Are you saying you were lying to me?” He places a hand over his heart, “And here I thought we were soulmates.”

Your hand smacks against his arm, “Shut up.”

“So what are you studying for?” Atsumu sips his drink, the two of you leaning against the windows of the convenience store. There’s a slight sway in his body and you’ve unknowingly followed his movements.

“Literature. Once I graduate, an internship is probably where I’ll start but I’m hoping I can get hired into a publishing company.” He’s comfortable to be with and you aren’t sure if it’s because he thinks he knows you or because his presence is just like that; comfortable.

Atsumu finishes off his canned beverage, “And you do that, all on top of running a foodie Instagram.”

From what you gathered on a quick skim of the account; they have your occupation as a lower level food blog; it’s rather funny. You can only nod to him, “It’s just a side hobby really.”

“Well maybe I could join you on one of your little adventures.”

You try to suppress the immense grin that wants to grow on your lips, there’s an internal battle happening of whether you should tell him or not but once again, the way he looks at you, the cute doe eyed look; it puts butterflies in your stomach.

“How about tomorrow?” He lets out a small gasp, your hands pull out your cell phone and offer it to him, “Your number?”

“I’m free for lunch, just text me when and where.”

You press the number he’s inserted into his contact; in a second his cell rings and he’s showing off his screen, “Don’t message me on Instagram though, I’m detoxing from social media for a bit. Just, text my number.”

He walks you to the curb, helping you flag down a cab, and you give him one last gleeful glance before getting into the car. As you sit, you’re quick to dial Suna’s number. You know he’s probably sleeping but the light feeling in your heart overrides his sleep schedule.

“What?” He’s groaning.

“Suna listen to me carefully. The prank that you guys are doing.” You hear a small snore, “Suna!” He jolts awake and you groan, “You know what, go back to sleep.”

“Thanks.” He hangs up immediately.

Your phone dings, Atsumu’s name pops up. Can’t wait for our date. You bite on your thumb, a smile on you before you respond.

Although having just seen him forty minutes ago, you two text back and forth. First he wondered if you arrived home safe, next he sent pictures of himself insisting it’s for you to choose for his icon, then he proceeds to narrate his way home. You wonder if you’re responding like catfish you but the more he brings up random topics, the more you forget about that stupid prank.

Wait let me call you.

Your heart beats faster, your phone lighting up with his name. You press the answer button slowly, “Hello?” You giggle.

“You’re telling me that you like spikers more than setters.” His voice is nearly screaming and you lean back on your chair laughing into the phone.

The quick research you did on his team had you watching short videos, and while you had to admit it was amazing to watch, your eyes drifted more to one of his teammates than him, “What’s his name?” You lean to look at your computer screen, “Bokuto Koutarou?”

“No!” He’s whining out into the air, “If I had known you were a spiker girl I would have changed positions.”

Your eyes catch the time on your laptop, “Woah. It’s three in the morning.” That meant you had spent over four hours total texting him and now you were on the phone with him, “What are you doing awake?”

He blows out a breath of air, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well.” You draw out the word, dragging your self to your bed, “I’m going to go to sleep now.” There’s a pause on the line, “Atsumu?” He hums tiredly, “Good night.”

There’s a small snore from him before he shifts around, “Good night.”

The morning light urges you awake, for a second you peak at your phone’s time and it nears ten in the morning. You’re about to throw your phone back onto the bedside table until Atsumu’s name catches your eye. For having gone to bed at three a.m. he shot you a text at seven.

Morning beautiful.

It was sweet, simple, and it made you smile; giving you the extra push to get out of bed. You stalked your own catfish page, there hadn’t seemed to be any updates so there was still time. A quick search of the internet has you picking out a random restaurant nearby and you send off a text to Atsumu about a meeting time.

You were late, pushing through the doors of the restaurant, your eyes scan the place to see him raise a hand for you. He’s dashingly handsome despite being in casual wear, you wonder if he spent time like you did just trying to pick out an outfit or if he spent forever gelling his hair as long as you tried to get your strands into the perfect waves.

“Sorry, did you wait long?” You pull into the seat in front of him.

He’s smiling and you hope to god that when you break the news to him, he’ll still smile for you, “I just got here not too long ago too.” He looks over the menu quickly, “What do you think you’ll get?”

You inspect each dish, a light hum on you as you dance around the option, “The spaghetti sounds nice.”

Atsumu tilts his head, “It has red meat in it.” You stare blankly at him, “Aren’t you allergic to red meat?”

“Oh.” You set the menu down, “Actually.” He follows your actions, you’ve become nervous at what you’re suddenly about to do, “There’s something you should know.”

“Fuck this!” Atsumu throws the napkin on the table, you jump as he harshly stands, throwing the chair back.

“Atsumu.” You stand.

“No! Don’t. Were you just messing with me then? Did Osamu tell you I was going to be at the bar last night?” Atsumu’s fist ball, “You know what, whatever.”

“Wait.” You follow him behind, “Atsumu. I’m sorry.”

He harshly turns to you, god, even in sunlight you were beautiful to him. He wants to laugh, the month he spent talking to the fake you; yeah that was all bullshit to him but honestly when he saw you last night, when he spent over four hours actually talking to you; he actually felt that maybe this could be something deeper.

“I’m really sorry, I know I should have said something right away.” You have a soft pout on you and it makes him outwardly groan.

He runs a hand through his hair, “Okay, it’s fine. I probably deserved this prank too anyways; must have pissed him off somehow.” He waves a hand, “You can just go back to doing whatever.”

Your hand pulls on his wrist, “I owe you a meal.” You bat your eyes with a cheeky grin, “If you take pictures of me, we can send them to Suna and use the money for our food.”

“Oh.” He begins to smile, “I like that idea.”

Back into Osamu’s office, Atsumu has now pulled you onto his lap, your head resting on his shoulder with arms hanging around his shoulders. The two bachelors stare at the sickly loving sight.

A lightbulb goes off in Suna’s head, “Wait! My money!”

You snort a laugh into Atsumu’s shoulder, “Hey, I earned that fair and square. You paid for goods.”

Osamu is having a staring contest with his brother, “So you two have been actually dating for two months? Why would you still message the catfish account then, why not just kick my ass when you found out?”

Atsumu taps a finger on his chin, “Well, I was just originally going to ghost you guys but then babe here and I discovered that we could fund all of our dates with Suna’s money. We even started setting aside leftover cash from our dates to plan a trip.”

You giggle, “We’re going to Disney next weekend.”

“All the pictures.” Suna whispers.

There’s an amused hum in your throat, “Honestly I’m surprised you guys didn’t figure it out. We were dropping hints in the photos.”

Indeed, the two males looked at the pictures you sent them. If they backtracked to two months ago, there wouldn’t be any hints but the closer they get to the present; it was painfully obvious. They were just too caught up in their excitement to even notice. In one photo, part of Atsumu’s shoulder and hair was just barely in the picture; another had his reflection vividly displayed in the window of the restaurant, and somehow Osamu and Suna missed the obvious Black Jackals jacket sitting on the back of the chair next to you.

The two boys were having a mental breakdown.

You shifted on Atsumu’s lap, leaning forward to tap against the top of Osamu’s phone, “Now, if you’d please deactivate the account since this whole charade is over.”

Osamu ended up not deleting the account. He set the account to private because seeing how his brother was so deeply entranced by you, Osamu had a feeling this one was going to last and he was right; on Atsumu’s wedding day, his little best-man speech had him whipping out the catfish Instagram to display on the monitor for everyone to see.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part One

Prologue | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: Oh hey there! Welcome to Dany Has Been Googling Art Stuff For Like Two Months The Series. Warnings: Cursing (meant to mention that before WHOOPSADOODLE sorry) Summary: You’d never seen Agent Pike look anything less than collected, even in the thick of a case. 

“The Raft of the Medusa, huh?”

You didn‘t bother to look away from your laptop where you were stationed at your lectern.

“Géricault did good work,” You answered as you finished answering the email that you were working on. You knew that this couldn’t be a terribly timely or pressing matter, because the FBI agent that had shown up had bothered to sit through the second half of your lecture that morning. 

“How long have you guys been up to romanticism?” He asked.

“Oh, just this week. Géricault’s got a good range...Landscapes, horses, portraits… horses... current events… horses…”

“Lots of horses.”

“Yeah, he was kind of a horse girl.” 

You finally sent the email off and turned to look at Agent Marcus Pike. The man was, mercifully, still looking at the recreation of the Géricault painting. 

“This one of your old ones?” He asked. You laughed a little, leaning against the lectern. 

“No. I’ve got a friend in Atlanta that specializes in recreations of Delacroix and Géricault.” 

“He’s talented. I’ve seen the original, this is… Incredible.” 

“Mm, I know. The corpses almost look happy in this version.”

Pike’s brow rose and he gave you a look out of the corner of his eye.

“So?” You asked, “How can I aid the bureau today, Agent Pike?” 

He gave a small smile, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he turned to face you more fully.

“I’m actually not here on bureau business,” he told you, peering at you nervously. Your brows rose. You’d never seen Agent Pike look anything less than collected, even in the thick of a case. 

“You’ve got my attention,” You reassured him. 

--

You were trying so hard not to laugh, if not for the earnest look on Pike’s face. You watched him as you ran your finger along the handle of your coffee mug. The two of you had taken up residence at your favorite coffee shop and bakery, There Ain’t Muffin To It. It was a little out of the way of the college’s campus, but you preferred that - you hardly ever ran into your students that way.

Pike had insisted on paying for your coffee, and then he’d explained his… Situation. 

His fucking hilarious situation that you were really, really trying not to laugh at. 

“So…Just-- To make sure I’m on the level here,” You said, “Your sister Marnie is getting married in two weeks, and she was probably going to set you up with some cute hometown girl, and instead…” You had to pause, biting your lip to tamp down a laugh before going on, “Instead, you told her that you’re bringing… Me.” 

“That is the long and short of it.”

“And can I ask what possessed you to blurt out the name of an ex-fencer-turned-art-professor?” 

“I panicked and I was looking at the Coleman file.”

“Ah,” You nodded. You’d assisted Pike’s team on that case. A man named Augustus Coleman had recently come forward, claiming to have found Oudry’s White Duck. The work had, in fact, been a fake (though it was a very, very convincing one). You’d spent time with Agent Pike, looking over the painting itself and helping his team track down Coleman’s forger. It had been a lot of long nights, a lot of hard work, but Pike had given you implicit trust, and you’d gotten the job done. 

And now, apparently, he was trusting you with this, too. 

“I don’t… Lie well,” Marcus added, and you couldn’t help but laugh then. 

“I can see that.”

Marcus smiled, “I know this is an inconvenience. I wouldn’t ask you to fly down for the week I’m gonna be there--”

“But you’d want to?” 

Marcus winced, “My sister’s already passed your name on to my mom and I’m getting questions. You could just come in for the weekend. I’d pay for your airfare,” He tacked on. 

“Wow, you are desperate.” 

“What you said, about my sister setting me up with some-- hometown girl? It’s accurate, I’m pretty sure I know exactly who she would’ve tried to set me up with.”

“Bad?”

“No, she’s nice, but we don’t suit and Marnie hasn’t quite gotten that message.” 

Your brow furrowed, considered something. 

“Tell me something,” You leaned forward on your forearms, watching Marcus.

“Sure.”

“You could've found someone else to bring along, asked them to use my name and fake it to your family for two days. You’re actually asking me instead. Why?” 

Marcus’ eyes searched your face.

“Couple of reasons. Remember a minute ago when I said I was bad about lying?” 

You chuckled, “Uh-huh. The other reason?” 

“I need to go down there with someone that I trust. Someone that I know will have my back.”

“And someone that can lie?” 

“Exactly. See what you just said, about asking someone else to use your name? Didn’t even occur to me.”

You were quiet for a moment, considering Pike. The week that he’d named for the wedding was spring break-- you didn’t have any plans set in stone, just papers to grade. 

“...Can I think about it?” You asked. Marcus’ smile brightened at that. 

“Of course,” He nodded, “I appreciate it.” 

You believed that-- the man couldn’t lie for shit. 

-- 

That evening found you in your apartment, grading quizzes for your Intro to Greek and Roman Art course. Most of the students had a good handle on the subject, so the grading and corrections didn’t take you long. Once you’d finished, you poured yourself a glass of wine and settled down on your couch to find something to watch for the evening. 

Once you’d chosen a show, though, you really couldn’t focus on it. You had, after all, told Marcus that you’d consider his proposal. You were...Fond of Agent Pike. The agents that you’d worked with prior to his transfer to the D.C. office had all treated you with varying degrees of contempt when asking for your help on a given case; they’d kept your interactions to the barest of bare minimums, held you at arm’s length in regards to the cases that you were being asked to assist on, and hardly ever updated you on case outcomes - not that they were required to do so, but you had often wondered. Marcus Pike was so different from his predecessors. When he’d come to the D.C. office and had first needed your help on a case, he’d gone out of his way to introduce himself, the particulars of the case, and to say that, “any assistance that you could provide would be greatly appreciated.” And it hadn’t felt glib, either. You’d felt like the man actually wanted your help, wasn’t that he was just reaching out to you to cover his bases. You’d assumed that after that first case, the niceties would fall away, but Marcus had never been anything less than kind to you - even when he was stressed. He treated you with respect, understood that your time was your own, that you’d put your criminal past behind you. You were now using what you’d learned in that world to help the Bureau, and to teach.

The time you’d spent with him on the Coleman case had been the biggest eye-opener. He’d come to understand more about how you used to operate - the way you’d sold forgeries to money-grubbing, self-involved wealthy elites that cared more about owning a one-of-a-kind artwork, uncaring of where it had come from or why you had it; they hadn’t cared about the questionable and fake provenance, had only looked so close when examining the work itself. Your grandmother had been a painter, and a masterful forger - she had been the one to paint most of the forgeries that you’d helped to fence. She had taught you her tricks, connected you with the network that she operated within - she had gotten you arrested, and had been furious when you hadn’t taken the fall for her. You and Marcus had spent a lot of time together during the Coleman case - mostly working, but you’d had some downtime. There were times when he insisted that you sat down and ate, else the food would get cold. Others, when he had a question, he’d come to your office at the college, but he’d bring coffee with him, or some kind of snack - a little way of showing thanks before he even asked his question, even if you didn’t have an answer for him. Marcus was a good man. It was no wonder he needed help lying, especially to his family. Something he’d said to you that afternoon had stuck with you, though, something that was floating above the rest: “I need to go down there with someone that I trust. Someone that I know will have my back.” Marcus Pike trusted you. He was comfortable with you having his back - he was comfortable with you being around his family for a week. 

You picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts to find Marcus’. You hit the ‘call’ button before raising it to your ear. He picked up on the first ring. “Hello?” He asked, and you smiled at the anticipatory tone. “Think they’ve still got any seats left on your flight?” You asked. Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​​ ; @blueeyesatnight​​ ; @elen-aranel​​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​​ ; @artsymaddie​​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​​ ; @lunaserenade​​ ; @winniedaboo ; @empress-palpat1ne​​ ; @randomness501​ ; @nutmeg-20 ; @leonieb​

[featherthiefdean]

Dean and Cas are both having a bad week months after pulling Cas from the Empty. When they get stuck in the car during a rainstorm, Dean finally gets the courage to tell, or really show, Cas how he feels.

1.6K words

Read on AO3 here

Sometimes when it rains, it absolutely pours.

Dean was frustrated. Everything about this last week had gone about as wrong as wrong could go. Things fell apart when a witch, on what should have been routine hunt, tossed him around like a rag doll. She even managed to bust Sam’s shoulder by throwing him through a window not once but twice.

It got worse when Dean realized that the reason the hunt went sideways was because the spell hadn’t worked properly. Cas had sent a picture of the witch stopping spell to Dean’s phone but the picture had distorted and cut off the last ingredient necessary to make the spell work. You would think sending a picture from a magical bunker to the middle of nowhere Montana wouldn’t be too much for modern technology. Thankfully, Dean was able to reach his gun while the witch was busy tossing his brother. Two witch-killing bullets later, she was dead.

When Dean sent Cas a text saying they had to detour to the hospital to get Sam fixed up, Cas called him seconds later. The guilt that his phone malfunctioned caused Cas to lose it on the other end of the line and nothing Dean could say would calm the guy down.  Dean thought maybe Cas would feel better when Sam and Dean returned to the bunker and saw that they were fine but that turned into a whole other issue all together. Cas’s eyes went wide at the sight of Sam’s arm in a sling. Sam assured him it was just a bad sprain but Cas’s distress was clear. Cas’s final straw had been seeing the bruise forming along the left side of Dean’s face.

Cas raised his hand to touch the bruise almost like he was going to heal him. When Cas’s hands made contact, Dean unwittingly flinched from pain. Cas withdrew his hand quickly and silently. He went straight to his room without another spoken word. Dean knew that the photo mishap and the reminder that he could no longer heal them made Cas feel like a failure. Then, Dean flinching when Cas touched him probably sent the wrong message. Feelings of guilt overwhelmed the former angel and Cas hid in his room for the last six days. The inability to offer Cas comfort or reassurance left Dean feeling like a failure too.

Dean had tried to talk to Cas every time he emerged to use the bathroom or get some food but he was met with stony silence or passive aggressive comments. It had been two months since Cas’s last emotional episode and this one felt rougher than normal. When Claire called to ask them to cover a weird case she found while she worked a vampire nest with Jody, Dean ended up literally dragging the new human out of his room because Sam was benched for the foreseeable future. Cas protested going until Dean said that he needed backup. It was clear Cas didn’t want to be anywhere near Dean which only soured his mood further.

The icing on the shit cake was when the Impala ate one of Dean’s favorite Led Zeppelin tapes two hours into a ten-hour drive in the pouring rain.

Yeah, Dean was over this week.

By the time they pulled into the motel they would staying at, a pond had formed in the parking lot big enough to drown a rat from the Princess Bride and the rain seemed to be falling heavier every second. Dean shifted the Impala to park and shut off the engine but made no effort to get out of the car. He leaned forward to look out the windshield to see if there was any end in sight for the torrent of rain but they couldn’t be so lucky.

“Dean, what are you looking for?” Cas asked from the passenger seat as he mimicked the lean. It was the first time he had spoken in hours after talking on the phone with Sam. They had spoken about the case and the case only so Dean could focus on keeping them from hydroplaning off the backroads to the rundown town they were in now.

“I’m looking out for the T-Rex, can’t let it scoop us up before we’ve even had the chance to get dinner.”

Cas turned his entire body towards Dean at this statement. His pink lips parted into a small, confused O and bright blue eyes squinted at Dean in confusion. Dean wouldn’t chance opening Baby’s door with the falling rain but he would let himself drown in Cas’s eyes if given a chance.

“Jurassic Park, Cas. We watched the original last month when Jack stopped by for burgers. You spent the entire move talking about dinosaurs actually having feathers.”

“Oh. Yes, I remember now. ‘Life finds a way.’” Cas’s voiced slipped even lower while quoting the movie, the gravel in his voice even more pronounced. 

Cas went back to looking out the window and watched the rain pour down around them. Dean was free to stare at Cas more openly now. Cas had ditched the trench coat and suit not long after returning from the Empty. Dean never asked why. Now, he was in a blue hooded sweatshirt that brought out his eyes and a pair of well-worn jeans. There was a hint of stubble on his face and his hair was longer than normal. Dean took in all of Cas and felt a sharp pain of longing in his chest. Not a word had been said about “before” but Dean had been meaning to talk-

“We should probably head inside. I don’t think the rain is going to let up soon and I promised I would call Sam back when we arrived,” Cas said as he turned his focus back to Dean.

“Technically, you said you would call him back when we got into the motel room. We aren’t in the room yet.”

“You want me to avoid talking to Sam on a technicality?”

“No, I want to avoid getting soaked down to my underwear and then have to listen to Sam drone on about the lore.”

“Well, if we aren’t getting out of the car soon, what exactly would you like to do to pass the time?”

Dean could definitely think of a few things. He thought about leaning over and kissing Cas breathless while feeling the newly formed stubble beneath his fingertips. He thought about dragging Cas over the front seat while the rain hit the metal roof of the Impala and drowned out his moans. He thought about pulling off Cas’s sweatshirt first and then the former Metallica tee that Cas stole from Dean’s laundry the first week he was human as the windows begin to fog up. He thought about his hands tracing Cas’s-

“Dean, are you listening to me?”

“Buddy, I’m always listening to you.”

“Tell me what I just said.”

“I-uh-”

“Exactly, you never listen. Even before when I-” Cas trailed off and angrily watched the raindrops race down the window.

Dean’s heart broke a little more inside. His heart had shattered when Cas confessed his feelings before being taken by the Empty. The shattered pieces crumbled further when he realized the feelings he had been harboring for years towards his best friend were romantic. He loved Cas back. What little pieces that remained had been ground into dust when he thought he wouldn’t get the chance to say it back and he was too late.

When Cas came back, the pieces began to fit back together slowly yet he had never mentioned them again for fear of his heart being broken one last time. It might break him if Cas had changed his mind and he couldn’t risk it.

Dean slid closer to Cas and nudged him gently with his hand, “I listen, Cas. Always, at least to the important stuff anyway.”

“Really Dean? Because I don’t think you have ever taken anything I have said seriously. Not a single time, maybe when I was an angel but certainly not since I’ve become human.”

“Hey, yes I do. I just got distracted a minute ago-“

“No Dean, you don’t listen. It doesn’t matter what I say or how I say it. You don’t hear me. I don’t know why I’m even here.”

The anger had evaporated from Cas’s voice leaving him sounding tired and sad. Cas let his head roll back onto the soft vinyl seat and shut his eyes.

The elephant-sized weight of everything that had gone unsaid between the two of them was suffocating. The fear in his chest of voicing his own feelings were out gunned by his fear of losing Cas. This week was bad enough with Cas avoiding him, he couldn’t stand if Cas had the exact wrong opinion because of him. Cas thought Dean didn’t care. He thought he didn’t feel the same. The only problem with that was Dean had fallen more in love with Cas with every passing day.

“Cas, look at me.”

Cas let out a deep sigh before turning his head back to Dean. Blue eyes locked with green and Dean knew what he needed to do.

“Cas, I hear you and… I heard you. That Day.”

Dean leaned forward to capture Cas’s lips with his. He channeled everything he had been meaning to say since, well, forever into it. After a moment, Cas was kissing him back. Gentle compared to fierceness coming from Dean. The stubble underneath his fingers and the soft feeling of Cas’s lips sent Dean straight to Heaven.

A few minutes later and much too soon to Dean’s humble opinion, they broke apart.

“I love you too, Cas. Always have.”

Maybe the rain wasn’t drowning them after all, maybe it was washing the slate clean for the first time.

[byrachel]

JACOB BLACK CURSED FATE

Word count: 2512

Summary: In an attempt to fix their relationship, everything falls apart

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, emotional cheating, jealousy, unhealthy relationship

note: Thank you @tyb1 for giving me an amazing idea to experiment with. This was also loosely inspired by this imagine by @imaginingmanyfandoms (with their permission!) Please check both of them out!

You swatted away the lingering fly, which had been testing your patience the whole day, from the freshly set table. You didn’t want anything ruining your mood that day and if you had the same accuracy your boyfriend had when it came to killing flies, it would’ve been smashed against one of your counters the second you had seen it flying around. Losing the buzzing creature from your sight, you stepped away from your kitchen table to take in the view. Perfect, you thought with a satisfied smile, quietly praising yourself. 

After months of barely seeing your boyfriend and living with each other like you were roommates, you found it was time to find that spark you once felt by having his favorite meal and desert. You wanted to create a comfortable scenery to discuss your concerns with Jacob and was more than positive about the outcome. He was always willing to listen and  work on himself together with you when it came to problems you were having. 

With a lighthearted sigh you grabbed your phone from the edge of the table. Your notification centre showed a few unimportant emails waiting to be deleted from your inbox, instead of the text you were waiting for. You looked at the time above the notifications. 7:23 pm. He wasn’t supposed to be home for a while and him not responding to your texts probably meant patrolling just took longer. You pushed down that icky feeling at the pit of your stomach and decided to dress up with the time you still had. You didn’t want to wear anything over the top in your own kitchen, but something cute enough for Jacob to see you were trying to look nice for him.

Taking your time to take a shower, do your hair and put together an outfit you were pleased with, you were expecting Jacob to walk into your home at any given moment then, but even when you returned to the kitchen there was still no sign of him. This time you looked up at the analog clock hanging from one of your kitchen walls. 8:41 pm. 

With a forced smile you tried to contain the excitement you had been feeling the whole day as you got a pack of lucifers to light the candle in the middle of the table. Once the candle held onto the flame, you looked over your shoulder at the food on the stove while you waved with the lucifer in your hand, before it had the chance to burn all the way down to your fingers. You wanted Jacob to come home to a prepared plate but the moment you heard the fly buzzing around your living room you stopped yourself. You weren’t in the mood to keep that thing away from the food so you were just going to wait until he got home. 

You sat down at the kitchen table, grabbing your phone once again. Maybe he responded. Lightly tapping your screen, your notification centre popped up, but there still was no text. Out of curiosity you checked your messages, going into your conversation with Jacob. 

‘You still going to be home by 8:30?’

You sighed looking at the delivered stamp underneath your text, but decided to give him more time. He was barely ten minutes late and it wasn’t unusual with the recent supernatural activity in the area so you just had to keep your excitement at bay a little longer. 

Time ticked by slowly, ten minutes turning into thirty, half an hour turning into an hour as you impatiently bounced on your legs, soft thumbs filling the silent kitchen. You were leaning against the kitchen counter, looking down at the game on your phone to kill time, but with each passing second your worries were starting to grow excessively.

When the clock hit 10:30 pm you decided to call him, the phone icon next to his caller id waiting to be pressed by your hovering thumb. But before you could put your phone up to your ear, your call went straight to his voicemail. Your heart jumped, your sudden rising heartbeat ringing in your ears from worry.

His phone has never been turned off before. Why is his phone turned off? 

You exhaled audibly, automatically going to your contacts to find Quil’s number while you nibbled on your thumbnail. If your memory didn’t do you wrong, you were almost certain they were patrolling together. He would know where Jacob was. Again, you tapped on the phone icon as your hand rested against your neck, feeling your rapid heartbeat. 

You looked up at the ceiling, briefly closing your eyes as you forced yourself to stay calm. In and out, you told yourself, inhaling and exhaling deeply to keep yourself from having gruesome intrusive thoughts of things that could’ve gone wrong while you impatiently waited for your boyfriend’s best friend to pick up his phone.

“Hey, (Y/N). What’s up?” Quil’s neutral voice sent you into relaxation, your eyes shooting open and bending your head back down to its original state. His calm tone was enough to let you know nothing happened on their patrol. 

“Hey, Quil.” Your voice was slightly shaken up from the brief panic, but hoping he wouldn’t notice you tried to make it less obvious. “I’m looking for Jake, is he with you?”

“Not anymore.” He answered. “Lin called him earlier. I’m guessing something happened, because Jake left right after, but he didn’t say what though.” 

Lin. Of course he was with Lin. 

The itch you were trying to keep down suddenly became uncontrollable. The anger, resentment and hurt you thought you had pushed down months ago bubbled up without a warning, making you bite your tongue to keep your composure towards Quil. As far as you knew he didn’t know about the arguments and fights she had caused in your relationship, how many times you threatened to leave Jacob because of her presence and how many nights you had banned Jacob from your bedroom so you could silently cry into your pillow, knowing he was listening to the pathetic muffled sobs from the couch in the living room. 

“(Y/N)?” A different voice called out from the living room as you heard the click of the closing front door. “I’m home.” 

“Thanks, Quil.” You said, snapping out of your silent rage, remembering your boyfriend’s best friend was at the other side of the line. “He actually just came home.” 

“Anytime.” Quil responded unknowing of what he had just caused, before you exchanged goodbyes with him and hung up the phone. You slowly placed it back down on the table and shook your head in disbelief, pushing yourself away from the kitchen counter to meet Jacob in the living room.

“Hey, what did you make?” Your clueless boyfriend commented, briefly turning his head over his shoulder to watch you stand in the kitchen’s doorway, his back turned to you as he put his jacket away. “It smells good.” 

“Where were you, Jacob?” Your voice was icingly calm as you ignored his question, his name feeling foreign in your mouth. It was always Jake, not Jacob so using his full name for the first time in months made sure he knew how badly he had fucked up. You knew where he had been and that simple question was enough to let him know there was no use in lying. 

It was like he freezed up for a split second before he turned to face you, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You didn’t know why you were even giving him the room to answer, there was no way he could talk himself out of this. His mouth was agape, his lips moving slightly but there were no words coming out. 

“Spit it out. Where were you?” You repeated, your voice slightly raising this time. 

“Babe, I can explain--” 

“Explain?” You interrupted him as a humourless chuckle fell from your lips. You softly pinched the skin between your eyebrows, your eyes fluttering closed. Your patience was thin, your head full of different voices telling you what to do in your rage, but you weren’t sure what voice to give in to. “Explain what? That you basically ditched me to be with Lin when I explicitly told you I wanted to have one night, just one night, to have your undivided attention.” 

 “I know I messed up, but you know I wouldn’t do it without a well enough reason.” Jake sounded distraught and without looking up you could tell he was panicking. “Just hear me out, okay?”

You pulled your hand away from your face, opening your eyes to look at the man who was suddenly standing much closer than he was before in an attempt to close the space between you. If he came any closer you were sure you would’ve backed away, but he knew better than to try to touch you when you were livid. It was a mistake he made before, but surely wouldn’t do again. 

“She needed someone to talk to.” He started off, making you scoff. It was something you heard a dozen times before. “This is the first time she has been without her daughter for this long and it’s just hard on her.” 

“It still surprises me you don’t see what she’s doing. She has enough friends to call. She’s using you, Jacob. Using you.” You narrowed your eyes in disbelief and used your hands to emphasize your point. “She only has to breathe differently and you’re there, she just likes the attention you’re giving her, because no one else will.” 

“I don’t think she’s using me.” Jacob disagreed with a sigh. “But I also know you wouldn’t get me giving into it. As much I know you hate it, I have to be there for her, (Y/N). We’ve talked about the imprinting, it’s not a choice.” 

Was he seriously defending what she was doing? 

“And we’ve also talked about boundaries.” You snarled back at him. “You can be there for her without ignoring our relationship. You promised me we would come first no matter who your imprint was going to be.”

He nodded in agreement. “And we still come first, but like I said I also have to be there for her when she needs me. She might not be my top priority, but I can’t ignore Lin’s needs either, that’s just the bond.” 

“Just the bond.” You repeated with a chuckle, your eyes prickling with tears as the sudden realization seeped in. 

Nothing was more important to him than that damned forced bond and the longer you listened to him the clearer it became. You hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but looking back you couldn’t believe how stupid you were for believing the words of a man who hadn’t experienced something so intense before. ‘I don’t care who she is, you’re the one for me’ was what he said when you finally communicated your worries weeks after he had imprinted on her. You wished you had listened to the insecurity lingering at the back of your head when you had seen the relationships between Sam and Emily, Jared and Kim and every other pack member who had ended up with their imprint.

Why would I be naïve enough to think it would be any different for Jacob when he finally imprinted on someone? 

“Baby, don’t cry.” He finally tried to narrow the space between your bodies to comfort you, but as you snapped out of your thoughts you flinched away from him. His comfort was the last thing you wanted.

Just then his words registered and you noticed the tears staining your cheeks. You quickly wiped them away with the back of your hand. “You don’t even see you’re in love with her, do you?” You looked up at his pained expression. You might don’t like being touched when you were mad, but you had never backed away from him when you were crying before.

“I’m not, I swear.” He answered hurriedly.

“You’re lying to yourself.” You shook your head, wiping your nose with your hand. “You dropped everything to be there for her when I needed you here. Again.”

Without waiting for a response, you were headed to your shared bedroom, Jacob’s footsteps closely behind you. You wanted to get away from him as far as possible, there was no way you were staying in the same house together. You didn’t feel like suffocating on your own again.

“Baby, (Y/N).” Jacob called out to you, hopelessly following you as you marched into your shared bedroom, diving straight into your closet to grab a suitcase. “What are you doing?”

You placed it on the bed, zipping it open as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your sight. When you turned back to your closet to grab a bunch of clothes, not even thinking of all the things you actually needed if you were going to stay away for a while, Jacob finally managed to get his hands on you. He held your wrists, not tight enough to hurt you, but with just enough force to keep you from moving. “Hey, don’t go, okay? Please. I want to fix this.” 

“How? It’s not a choice, remember?” You avoided his gaze, looking down at the floor. Your body was trembling from the anxiety and all the mixed emotions coming out were making you sick to your stomach. You truly felt like throwing up.  “How did you even want to start a family with me if I can’t even be your first choice, hm? I’m not putting my child through that.”

“(Y/N), don’t tell me. . .” Jacob’s eyes widened. When you told him you wanted to talk this morning he could tell you were excited, but he brushed it off like the idiot he was. All the signs were there and when it fell silent for a moment, he finally understood why tonight was so important to you.

 “I’m pregnant.” You felt your arms slipping from his grip as you looked up at his blank expression. You pulled your hands away to dry the tears dripping from your face. “And I wanted to do things differently for our baby than our parents did, I wanted them to grow up with both of us there.”

“And they will.” His glinstering eyes and watery smile stared at you as he brought his hands up to your cheeks, softly caressing the sides of your face with his thumbs and placing his forehead against yours. You let him.  “Just let me fix this. I’ll do anything for you-- both of you.”

As much as you wanted to believe what he said, you knew it was only a matter of time before he went running to Lin when she needed him again. He could treat you badly all he wanted, but you refused to let your child grow up feeling unwanted the way you did. 

“No.” You whispered back to him, pulling your face away from his grip. “I’m done.” 

masterlist | not edited 

note: If you can’t tell I’m bad at endings and writing angst, but I hope you enjoyed it either way. Please let me know what you think so I know how I could improve or if you liked it!

[wellimaginethat]

Trouble in Paradise

Pairing: Jay Halstead x (female) Reader, Kelly Severide x Best Friend!Reader

Requested?: Yes

Word Count: 1839

Author’s Note: So Danger Prone was originally just supposed to be a oneshot, but a couple people seemed to want a part two and I honestly thought a part two would be great and now I’m already planning a third installment of this new series.

Trigger Warning(s): Car accident mention, being held at gunpoint mention, fluff

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

Summary: Y/N thinks Jay is going to break up with her, but she couldn’t be more wrong. (Second part to Danger Prone, but you don’t really need to read that if you don’t want too, because this could be a standalone piece)

Y/N = Your Name

Y/LN = Your Last Name

Part One

Tag List: @jayxuptons​, @bethii1​, @tonio-dawson​, @drakelover78​ , @lorenakaspersen​ (want to be tagged in future chapters of this fic? leave a comment or shoot me a message!)

It was no secret to anyone how much you and Jay loved each other. You seemed perfect together and everyone thought so.

And that was what led him to act a little screwy lately. You couldn’t understand it, everything seemed so perfect and he seemed to love you and you were happy. And then he started acting weird around you. You were worried he was going to break up with you.

And that crushed you, after everything the two of you had been through, it absolutely devastated you just to think about him breaking up with you.

So you tried your hardest not to think about it. But it was obvious that something was bothering you. Everyone at the house noticed and that was what led your best friend to plop down in the chair next to you and give you that look.

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Kelly asked, crossing his arms.

You did your best to muster up a smile and shake off your worries, but it was so obviously faked. “What do you mean? I’m fine.” You hated how your voice broke on the word ‘fine’

Kelly’s brows furrowed together and he shook his head. “Don’t give me that.” He unfolded his arms and leaned towards you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Talk to me, what’s going on? Trouble in paradise?”

You sniffled at just the thought of what you were about to say. “I’m pretty sure Jay’s gonna break up with me.”

This shocked Kelly and it was obvious, he had only been joking when he asked if there was trouble in paradise, he didn’t actually think you and Jay would be having issues. “What are you talking about? He loves you.” The frown returned. “What would make you think that he’s going to break up with you?”

“He’s just been acting really weird lately and I can’t help but think it’s because he’s sick of me.” You told Kelly quietly, swallowing back your emotions.

“Why would you even think that? He’s lucky to have you.” Kelly told you, still frowning because this was preposterous.

“Yeah, right.” You rolled your tear filled eyes before wiping underneath them, trying to keep the tears from sliding down your cheeks because you would not cry at work over some man. But it wasn’t some man, it was Jay Halstead, the love of your life...or who you thought was the love of your life.

“I’m serious.” Kelly told you with a huff.

“What’s so lucky about having a girlfriend who’s clumsy as hell and gets herself injured or almost killed every other month?” You asked him, annoyed and frustrated, but Kelly knew better than to take it to heart.

“It’s not every other month.” Kelly told you.

“Oh really? Two weeks ago I was in that car accident, two months ago I fell through a floor on a call, a month before that I was held at freaking gun point, and a few weeks before that I fell off your boat when we went out on the lake!” You huffed out, your voice raising and gaining the attention of some of your coworkers.

“The car accident and being held at gunpoint weren’t your fault. And any one of us could’ve fallen through the floor on that call, and...I have nothing to say about the boat incident because that really was you just being clumsy.” Kelly told you, a small smile forming on his face.

You looked at him and couldn’t even muster up enough energy to give him a fake smile. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but it’s not working.”

Kelly sighed and patted your shoulder. “Okay, well drinks on me at Molly’s tonight.” He told you as he stood up.

You shook your head. “I don’t think-”

“Uh-uh, not taking no for an answer.” Kelly told you. “And I’m not taking maybes either.”

You huffed and smiled a little bit at him before nodding. “Yeah okay.”

“Good.”

And just then the alarm went off signalling that there was a fire and you all were needed.

The call went by fairly smoothly, all things considered. It was fairly simple to be honest and when you guys got back to the house, it was time for your much earned R and R and you all were sent home.

“Molly’s. Tonight. Six.” Kelly told you, pointing at you as you walked to your newish car, the replacement to your old car that was totaled.

You gave him a thumbs up as you got into your car, smiling a bit and laughing before you drove home.

When you got to your apartment, you went to get some sleep before getting up around noon and cleaning some. Eventually, five rolled around and you decided you should probably start getting ready to meet Kelly at Molly’s.

Jay walked into Molly’s and saw Kelly sitting at a table, he walked over to him. “Hey can I talk to you for a second?” “I was gonna ask you the same thing.” Kelly told him, motioning for him to take a seat across from him.

“Why’s that?” Jay asked, frowning a bit.

“Y/N seems to think you’re going to break up with her.” Kelly told him simply.

Jay seemed to be taken aback. “What? That’s ridiculous.” He frowned. “Why would she think that?”

“Apparently, according to her, you’ve been acting weird lately.” Kelly explained, leaning on the table. “So what’s going on? Are you cheating on her or something?”

“No, of course not.” Jay frowned even deeper. “I’ve just been trying to figure out the best way to ask her to marry me.”

Kelly was shocked by that answer. “Oh...wow.”

Jay nodded some. “So...any suggestions?”

Kelly paused for a moment. “Somewhere private.” He told him after some thought. “She hates people staring at her, and she’s a diehard romantic, but she would hate for it to be over the top.”

“Of course.” Jay nodded, chuckling a bit. “I know how she hates when people make a fuss over her.”

Kelly laughed a bit and nodded. “That’s true.”

The two of them fell silent for a moment.

“So, when are you gonna pop the question?” Kelly finally asked.

Jay hummed in thought. “Soon, especially since she thinks I’m going to break up with her.”

“Good idea.” Kelly nodded and saw you walk in from across the bar. “She’s here.”

Jay turned in his seat before getting up and walking over to meet you with a smile. “Hey.”

You looked at him and smiled. “Hey.” You said softly, trying not to let on that you thought your relationship was ending.

Jay wrapped an arm around your shoulders as the two of you walked to the bar. “You got any plans tonight?”

“Well Kelly wanted to hang out here…” You shrugged a bit.

“And after?” Jay asked, looking at you.

You shrugged again. “I don’t know, why?”

“Maybe you could come over?”

You nodded slowly. “Okay…” You ordered yourself a drink and before you could pay for it, Jay had tossed some money down. “You didn’t have to buy my drink, I’m a big girl.”

Jay furrowed his brows. “And I’m your boyfriend.”

“Okay, and?” You asked, not looking at him as you picked up your drink.

“What do you mean ‘and’?” Jay asked, his frown deepening. “All I wanted was to buy my girl a drink, what’s so wrong with that?”

You huffed out a sigh. “Nothing.”

The frown didn’t leave his face. “Is something wrong?” Of course he knew something was wrong, but he didn’t want to let you know that he had talked to Kelly.

“Nothing’s wrong, Jay.” You huffed out. “I just had a bad day.” You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and went to walk past him.

“Woah wait.” Jay said, grabbing your hand in his to stop you.

You turned and finally looked at him. “What?”

Jay took your drink from your hand and set it on the bar. “Herrmann, can you watch these for us for a minute?” He asked and Herrmann nodded, next thing you knew Jay was pulling you outside.

“What are you doing?” You asked, frowning as you tried pulling your hand from his grip.

“We need to talk.” Jay told you, frowning.

You stopped in your tracks once you guys were outside, fear filling you because you thought you knew what was coming. He was going to break up with you. Your suspicions were right. “Okay.” You said after a moment, swallowing hard.

Jay turned to face you. “I love you.”

“Okay…” You said quietly. “But you’re breaking up with me?”

Jay shook his head. “No, I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Then why have you been acting so...different?” You asked, tears filling your eyes.

“Because I’m nervous.” Jay told you.

You looked at him. “Nervous? What for?”

“Because I love you and I want to ask you to marry me but I don’t know how.” Jay told you, hating that it came down to this.

You stopped, blinking a few times in shock. “You...want to marry me?”

“Of course I do.” Jay said softly.

You smiled wide. “Really?”

“Really.” Jay said softly, smiling as well. “So…?”

“So…?” You asked, looking at him.

“What do you say?” Jay asked softly.

Your smile turned to a smirk. “Well, you haven’t really asked me yet, so…”

Jay chuckled softly. “And I don’t really have the ring with me right now.” He said softly.

“You could still ask.” You told him softly.

Jay nodded a bit and knelt down. “Y/N Y/LN will you marry me?” He asked softly, looking up at you.

You grinned wide and nodded. “Of course.”

Jay stood up and gently pulled you in for a kiss. “I love you so much.” He said softly.

You smiled. “I love you too.” You whispered back.

“We should head back inside.” Jay said after a moment.

“Yeah, probably a good idea.” You agreed and nodded, turning to head back inside only for Jay to spin you back around and kiss you again.

“Okay, now we can head back inside.” Jay grinned.

You laughed softly and turned to head back inside again, picking your drink up from the bar and thanking Herrmann before heading over to where Kelly was sitting.

“Everything good?” Kelly asked, raising a brow at you.

You smiled wide. “Everything’s great.” Squeezing Jay’s hand, keeping the secret between the two of you for now, everyone else would know soon enough.

Kelly nodded and shared what seemed like a knowing look with Jay, but you couldn’t comment because Kim walked over. “There you are, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you doing since the accident?”

You smiled. “I’m doing good Kim, how’ve you been?” You asked her as she pulled you into a hug.

“Been good.”

You got roped into a conversation with her, glancing at Jay and Kelly, you’d question Jay about the look later on.

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 7

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

8 Years Ago – Age 17

“Y/N, do you know why you are here?” the shrink asked from across the large desk.  You looked down at the typical uniform of a patient at a psychiatric ward.  Yes you knew why you were in here.  A few months ago you witnessed your father’s dead corpse hanging in your living room.  The next thing you knew you were writing a suicide note of your own and your foster parents found it before you could do anything.  Now, you were stuck in a psych ward, probably until you at least turned 18.

“Yep,” came your short response.  

The shrink glanced down at her papers in front of her, going through all of your notes.  “We want to help you as best we can Y/N.  You’ve been through some very traumatic experiences in your life and you’ve witnessed a great deal.  We are going to get you all the help you need.”

3 Months Later

“Have you heard of Borderline Personality Disorder Y/N?” your psychiatrist, Dr. Wang asked.  

That made your head snap in her direction.  Here you were, still stuck in the psych ward after three months and you weren’t sure why.  “I’ve heard of that, yes.  But I thought I was just depressed,” you mumbled, chewing on your fingernail.  

You were clinically diagnosed with depression shortly after coming here.  

“Well, that’s what we originally thought at first.  But the longer you’ve spent time here, the more I and the rest of the staff have discovered it is BPD.  You’re intense mood swings, combined with your ongoing feelings of emptiness and the intense bouts of anger you have are all signs of BPD. We are going to switch up your medications and that will really help with your mood swings and anger issues.

~~~

 No matter how hard you tried, sleep never came to you that afternoon.  You tossed and turned all afternoon in your bed and nothing seemed to be working.  Not only that, but you were really starting to get more irritable as the day went on and you knew it was time to change the dosing of your medication.  It was like clockwork, every year to year and a half. The only problem was that you couldn’t leave the tower without Steve, Bucky or an anyone else.  How were you supposed to get an appointment with your Psychiatrist if you couldn’t leave the tower alone?  This only increased your anger and frustration as you got out of bed to get ready.    

You brushed your teeth and put on a some jeans and a t-shirt, not really caring what you threw on. All of the specific clothing you wore for work was in the closet of your game room along with your makeup and accessories.  

Upon leaving your room, you saw Steve and Bucky sitting at the island in the kitchen of your shared apartment.  They both looked deep in thought over some paperwork and you assumed it was for work.

Grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, you were about to head into the elevator as you didn’t want to disturb them, but Steve spoke up and caught your attention.  “Where are you off to?”

“Oh, umm, I’m heading down to my game room.  I’m going to work tonight,” you mumbled out as you pressed the button for the elevator. You noticed it was on the ground floor and it would take a few minutes to get to your level.  

“What time do you plan on being done?” Steve questioned.  

You huffed in annoyance, already irritated as anger began to creep through your bones.  “I don’t know.  Whenever I get done,” you snapped.  Immediately you felt regret, but sometimes your emotions got the better of you when you were in dire need of a medication change.  

“Hey, what’s with the attitude?” Steve commanded as he got up from his seat and stalked over to you, hands on his hips.  You noticed Bucky looking at you from his seat with furrowed brows.  They had never seen you angry like this.  You were always so compliant and easy going.  

“Look, I’m sorry.  I’m just tired is all.”

Steve looked at you sharply, his lips in a thin tight line.  “Alright.  Just make sure you get to bed at a reasonable time tonight.  Promise?”

“I promise,” you answered back.  

~~~

In the comfort of your game room, you quickly got to work.  Digging through your closet, you decided on a light pink tank top that said ‘Gamer Girl’ in black letters with two gamer controls on it.  Since your webcam only showed your top half, you threw on a black pair of cotton shorts to be comfortable.  

Next, you put your hair up in space buns, making sure they were situated just right so they wouldn’t be in the way of your headphones.  You put on your typical game night makeup: bright pink eyeshadow with dark smoked out liner, some mascara and blush and you were good to go.  

Turning on your monitor, you began to power everything up and once that was done, you logged in. Immediately your followers started putting in their messages off to the side and you smiled as you read them. You always tried to read as much of them as you could.  

As the night went on, you knew you should pack it up and listen to what Steve said; getting to bed at a descent time and getting rest.  But you were having way too much fun tonight and so were your followers. It was one of the best nights you’d had in months and not just money wise.  

Ignoring the clock you continued to play and interact with your followers with the microphone that was attached to your headphones.  Every so often you would glance to your messages box and see what some of them had said.  Most of them were cheering you on but of course you always had some haters in there as well.  

It was when you noticed the screen name of one of them that made your blood run cold.  JSmith20. ‘It can’t be’ you thought to yourself, trying to keep as composed as possible as hundreds of people were watching you game in this very moment.  

John’s last name is Smith and he always told you how his favorite number was 20, because that was how old you were when you met him.  No, but he’s still in prison.  He hasn’t gotten out.  He’ll be in there for many more years to come.  It had to be one of his friends right?  The same friend that had been delivering those letters to your old apartment.  ‘Yes, that’s right.  It’s just one of his friends trying to torment you’ you thought to yourself.  

Then, the person behind that screen name typed a message into your message box.  

Hey babe.  Do you miss me yet?  I can’t wait to see you – J

Yep, your composure went out the window reading the message.   Then another message from him popped up.  

I see you are no longer living in that little one bedroom apartment.  Did you really think you could up and move and I wouldn’t be able to find you?  Oh babe, how cute.  I will find you and we will meet again soon.  I promise – J

As you stared at the words on your screen, you heard groans from the other players on your team.  You had just lost the game.  

“Shit,” you swore, anger bubbling up inside of you.  “Fucking damnit!”  You slammed your fist on the desk.  

You rarely lost games. Losing always put you in a foul mood. But because of already being irritable and your emotions on over drive, losing just made everything worse.  

Looking at the clock it was just before five in the morning so you logged off and shut everything down.

You took your hair out of the buns, immediately feeling the tension in your head ease.  Ever so quietly, you opened the door and poked your head out into the hallway.  It was bitch black so you used your phone as a flashlight and tiptoed to the elevator. Before pressing the button on the elevator, you paused.  What if the noise of the elevator woke up Steve or Bucky?  You had promised Steve that you would get to bed at a descent time and seeing as it was just about five in the morning, well, you kind of figured you’d be in trouble.  

Instead, you opened the door to the stairs which was situated right next to the elevator.  At least taking the stairs would be much quieter.

You climbed the stairs up a few levels until you reached your living level and you waited on baited breath for a few moments.  Nothing. Nothing but silence.  As quiet as a mouse, you snuck through the door and dashed to your room, thanking your lucky stars that the palm scanner didn’t make any noise.  

You took a nice hot shower, washing off all of your makeup and the stress of the last few hours.  As much as you wanted to forget John messaging you, it wasn’t going to happen, neither was any sleep.  

Rather than even bothering to get into bed and try to relax, you sent an email to your psychiatrist letting her know that you would more than likely need a dose change on your medications.  Frantically typing away at the email, you explained how you were beginning to get irritated and it was harder for you to control your bouts of anger.  

Luckily for you, Dr. Wang was an early bird and she emailed you right back.  She wanted you to come see her for an appointment and your heart immediately dropped.  That wasn’t going to happen as one of your rules was that you weren’t allowed out of the tower by yourself.  And as much as you liked Darcy, you couldn’t trust her to go with you and not say anything to Steve or Bucky.  

Typing out your reply, you explained that you were unfortunately not able to meet in person and if there was anything else that could be done.  After you hit sent, you began to pace in your apartment, clearly on edge with everything going on.  You just wanted to feel better; you hated feeling this way.  It was as if you weren’t in control of your body and you definitely weren’t in control of your emotions.  

A notification came through your laptop and you rushed towards it, almost tripping over your feet. As you read her words, you could have cried right then and there.  She had agreed to a phone call appointment and she had time right now to discuss things with you.  

Grasping your phone, you dialed her number.

“It’s good to hear from you Y/N,” Dr. Wang stated as she answered the phone.  

“Oh Dr. Wang it is so good to hear your voice.”

She let out a soft chuckle. “Yes, it has been a little over six months since we’ve last spoken.  How are things going with you?”

“Where to begin,” you started off saying.  You let her know that you indeed met your soulmates and had moved in with them. You went over the rules that Steve had given you and she made you feel better as she stated she had seen way worse rules.  Hell, she said your rules were like a walk in the park compared to some she has heard.

“Alright, now, let’s get down to business.  How are you feeling these past few days?” she asked curiously.  

“Ugh, not good. Moving was stressful but I have been feeling really irritated over the last few and I’ve had a few bouts of anger rush through me that makes me want to punch something, but I’ve luckily been able to hold back on that.”

“What about any risky behaviors such as reckless driving, spending sprees, binge eating, drug abuse or sabotaging anything positive in your life?”

“Not yet,” you stated. You knew the routine.  She was going over all the symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder to see what has changed with you.  

“Ok good.  How about any intense fears of abandonment or rejection?”

That question always hit you like a punch to the gut.  The only reason you had stayed with John for so long was because of that right there. He purposely wouldn’t let you see Dr. Wang or he wouldn’t take you to get your medications refilled and because of that, you were starting to feel those feelings; not wanting to be abandoned no matter what.  

“Nope,” you replied.  

“Ok then.  I am going to increase the dosing on your current medications but I want to warn you.  Without you coming in and personally seeing me and without getting some blood work done, I don’t know how well this dosing is going to work, if it will work at all. We might need to discuss changing the medication all together,” she stated.  

“I understand Dr. Wang. And do you think maybe you could prescribe some sort of sleep medication for me too?”

“I can prescribe a one week trial of a sleeping medication for you.  After that, I really need you to try and come see me in the office and we can discuss that further.  Now, did you want me to send these prescriptions into your regular pharmacy?”

“Yes, that would be great. Thank you so much Dr. Wang.”

“No worries at all Y/N. Give the office a call and get an appointment set up.”

“I will.  Thanks again.”

Now that you had your medications all taken care of, you had to figure a way to leave the tower so you could get them.