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writingsofmyimagination · 6 years

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Conjecture |4|

Yoongi x Reader

Idol Reader Au, Enemies to Lovers AU

Summary: Your management refused to renew your contract unless you collaborated, so you ending up working with Min Yoongi. A guy you’d disliked from before both of your debuts. There is more to their past than meets the eye.

Words:2713

Links to other parts in my masterlist

if you want to be tagged let me know :)

@msunnsstuff @rosey-roseu @eyelessmin

Warnings: Swearing Suggested smut. (Smut in next chapter YAY :)

(Mention’s on Monsta X’s Wonho)

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//Yoongi had to consciously stop his mouth falling open when you came onto the set. He had to retain the same control over his gaze stopping them from constantly soaking up the view. When he was directed to grip at your hip, his heart forgot to function for a few beats. He wasn’t surprised by your irritated reaction given how you’d been acting and made himself empathise with you even though his less than innocent thoughts were permeating through.//

You jolted awake

“Fuck” was all you heard muffled through your door accompanied by the sound of glass shattering. You rushed out of bed to the source of the noise. A section of the floor was blurred with a pool of orange juice with glass shards floating as debris. What was more alarming was the droplets of red falling and causing a red orange ripple throughout the pool. Yoongi was hissing through pursed lips and gripping his left hand with his right nursing it with a tea towel.

“What happened? Sit down” you ordered. He looked at you through his fringe which overshadowed his eyes.

“I just turned with the glass in my hand which wasn’t high enough and just smashed into the worktop. I’m fine, sorry I woke you”

“You’re obviously not, sit the fuck down and let me have a look” Your tone drew his eyes wide and he submitted, taking big steps to avoid any more glass took a drooped himself on the sofa.

“Please tell me you have something that resembles a first aid box or something” you pleaded.

“Under the bathroom sink”. You washed your hands and brought the box as well as some tweezers and sat on the coffee table facing him.

“Give me your hand” he did as he was told and gave you his hand.

“I don’t know how I feel about you bossing me around” Yoongi quipped a pained smile directed your way. This is nothing you thought.

“No? Why’s that?” You slowly pulled away the towel, there were several small cuts and a couple of large but thankfully not too deep gashes. You removed all his bracelets quickly erasing any blood which had invaded them.

“Because I normally hate being told what to do” he exhaled forcefully as you picked a couple of glass fragments from his hand.

“And what? With me you like it? Brace yourself” You wiped his palm over with a disinfectant wipe.

“Shit!” his other hand retracted into a fist, his knuckles washing over with white. “That stings, and yeah something like that” he chuckled with a light heartedness you’d not seen before, a light heartedness that was acting as a decoy to disguise the confession of something less innocent and playful than the reality of what he meant. You found the confession amusing yet curious but you hid any reaction, you cheeks on the other hand let you down and tinted a shallow shade of red. A quick smirk peeked out on his lips noticing this before his pained expression returned.

“What was you rushing around for anyway?” you asked completely steering away from any more teasing remarks.

“I was trying to make you breakfast before you woke up” You paused wrapping the bandage around his hand and stared at it for a moment, why was this guy so god damn sweet!

“And why was you doing that?”

“I could see you were pissed yesterday, and just thought it might make you feel better” you resumed your final wrap around with the bandage and pinned it.

“And I know you don’t particularly like me for some reason and I’d like to try and change that” he added as sincere as you’ve ever heard him but it was also laced with sadness that loaded you with slight guilt. You heart sank down feebly to the bottom of your stomach, you felt kind of bad that he’d picked up on it but then you acknowledged how much of a bitch you’d actually been to him at times. You wasn’t by any means going to enter into a discussion about the details but you told yourself from now on you’ll try and be more amenable. The guy you started working with a few days ago had been nothing but professional, kind and thoughtful.

“There, all done” you stood and gathered the rubbish and ignored his previous comment and went to go and make a start on the kitchen.

“I’m more than capable of cleaning up my own mess and thank you for this” he stood after you and waved his injured limb.

“Consider it my apology for being difficult and my thanks for making me breakfast. It has made me feel a bit better” You smile and words were resolute; he went to protest further

“Don’t make me boss you around” you teased. He raised his hands up in surrender and waited while cleaned the chaos and finished serving up the omelettes he’d prepared. They were amazing. He wasn’t sure on the toppings you’d want so he’d gathered a few bowls of a few different options.

“What’s the plan for today?” you enquired

“Well we’ve more or less smashed out the lyrics so let’s get those finished and polished off and then we can get started on the music, I’ve took some ideas from your singing the other day and made some demo’s we can trial. I reckon we can be in the studio by the end of the week and make a start on recording” he ended brightly

“Sounds good, I’d like to have some solo studio time if that’s okay while I just work out the sections I’ll be rapping and singing. If you trust me in your set up that is”

“I’m sure I can cope. What time you want the guys to come pick you up later?”

“Probably about 20:45 if that’s okay? My hairdresser will be here around half seven. You should really come it will be good exposure for the single if we go together” You omitted the part that you’d actually just like to spend some more casual time with him, you wasn’t keen on accepting it yourself let alone speaking it aloud.

“I’m sure that will be fine, and nope, nothing will change my mind I’m staying in my cave”

“Fine suit yourself” you carried the dishes cleared them and loaded up the dishwasher, the mechanical hum merged into the background.

“Will Wonho be there?” he asked hoping he wasn’t coming across too curious.

“Yeah, but my manager bit my ear off yesterday about the whole dispatch thing. I’m not to go near him all evening” you sulked. There was a slight brightening of Yoongi’s demeanour, he felt slightly guilty for being pleased by this revelation.

“But they’ll be no press inside surely?”

“There’s always a couple who will have been given exclusive access, so means best behaviour for me”

“Is that even a thing with you?” he bounced back at you quickly.

“Very funny, I’m going to grab a quick shower and I’ll meet you in the studio”

A better attitude even if it was a slightly forced one at times made the days session fly by, you’d both completely finished and agreed with the lyrics and were soaring through the music. You ended up being so engrained into your work you were shocked when the bell rang at half seven.

“Oh shit, please can you let her in and tell her I’ll be like 15 minutes, I need to get dressed properly” you were staring into a face clearly amused by your panic and stared right back at you void of motion to wind you up.

“Yoongi!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll go”

You rushed to your room, launched your clothes to scatter behind you and unzipped the dress bag hung over the wardrobe door. The Alexander McQueen dress staring back at you made you happy you’d changed your mind last minute. It was a black mini dress with a deep V-neck line, the v-line was filled with tonal floral lace inserts. The same style of lace also covered the arms leaving scalloped edges at your hands. The neck line was too deep to have a normal bra so you’d have to rely on the lift tape to keep you in place and secure for the night. The dress was on the thinner side but the material was thick on quality, it sat nicely on your figure and gave you a smooth silhouette. You secured the thigh choker your assistant had dropped off tightly around your thigh. It was a simple black leather strap with rounded studs on it and connected to a metal heart. You slung your behind on your unmade bed and slipped on your long black ankle boots, also Alexander McQueen. The foot section was adorned with hammered silver studs, the leather that crept up your calf has a strip of nappa leather buttons going down the outside. The silver needle heel was sturdier than you thought it would be as you cat walked yourself up and down in front of the full length body mirror. Grateful you checked, your bruises needed a quick touch up of concealer.

Now just the hair and makeup left

Yoongi nearly floored you coming out of his room in an unnecessary rush.

“Sorry…” the other words got lost as his eyes scanned you intently

“Seeing as you’re there would you mind?” you turned and scooped your hair up exposing most of your upper back. He gripped the zip which sat at the small of your back and made every effort to pull it outwards slightly as too avoid contact as he pulled the zip up.

“Thanks, sure you still don’t want to come with a date looking like this?” you twirled in a joyous motion, enjoying the awkwardness of watching his eyes not know where to settle.

“With you looking as magnificent as that I’d be near enough invisible, I’ll leave Wonho to deal with all the admirers”

Why did he even bring him up? Was he implying he wouldn’t be able to deal with other people looking at me in a certain way?

“Your loss, and he’ll just have to look and not touch with all the others tonight” you affirmed seemingly pleased you’ll be teasing him.

“I don’t envy him this evening” The penny dropped Sadie was still waiting patiently in the living room and you hastily made your way to the woman capable of performing miracles.

“Sadie I’m so sorry, I was too absorbed in this new record” You grabbed a bar stool and placed it in front on the mirror on the wall next to the window. Her stack of boxes piled up on the coffee table.

“Don’t sweat it girl, now sit down and let’s finish this look off”

The boys arrived early to get introductions out of the way and to have a few pre drinks, Yoongi had resigned himself to being a solemn bartender. They repeated trying to convince him to make an appearance but he was as stubborn as he was talented.

“Cars here guys” RM announced. J-Hope bounced up, his face already a little flushed from alcohol.

The party was an exclusive event, anyone who was anyone in the industry gets invited, it’s more of a showcase with new or up and coming artists performing throughout the evening and general atmosphere to network. The car stopped outside the venue and the chauffer opened the door and the guys climbed out to a blinding screen of flashes and excited demanding noises. RM offered his hand and assisted you out of the car. Only a couple of media networks were allowed inside to take official photos and interviews; this only made the frenzy of media into the venue more ravenous. You stood and posed for the camera’s when directed, when you were freed you spent the remainder of the carpet time by the fans, taking selfies, signing autographs and generally giving them as much of your time as you could before you were ushered inside.

The buzz of the room when you entered was electric, crowds of people fluttering around reconnecting and mingling. Everyone had a drink in their hand and looked stunning, J-Hope and RM managed to find you amongst the chaos and showed you to your reserved booth for the evening at the side of the room. At the end of the room was a small elevated stage with equipment stacked neatly at the side, including some brilliant speakers. The room was decorated with mostly a royal red with silver vines twisting around features of the room; it was similar to the décor you’d expect at a theatre.

“You can order your drinks on this, we don’t even have to get up and go to the bar” J-Hope beamed as he slid you a small phone like device and you immediately went to the gin section and ordered a few pink gin cocktails. You’d sweetly smile when your eyes caught someone you were familiar with; your eyes fritted around for people you actually wanted to speak to. You and Wonho finally spotted each other pulling your lips into a grin, moments later your phone buzzed.

- You expect me to stay away from you all night looking like that?-[20:59]

You knew instantly it was going to be a long frustrating night

- well we’re just both going to have to do as we’re told, doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, you know I like to tease – [21:02]

You watched his expression diffuse into manic anticipation as he read your reply. When your drinks arrived you drifted from the boys and mingled with your friends, who imposed more than a few shots on you. Your manager managed to come out from backstage preparing a newbie to your label for his performance and casually checked in on your progress, you’d always loved his relaxed approach and how he just mostly left you to work, he didn’t even have to learn the hard way.

You slumped yourself back into the booth out of breath from owing the dancefloor, downing the last of one of your drinks including the ice cubes.

-That dress belongs on my bedroom floor, with me bound and gagged under you and my chest all marked up because I misbehaved-[22:39]

RM was looking at you amused with your intoxication or your wry smile as you read your message.

You almost choked on your drink, seemingly forgetting how to swallow as your body was too preoccupied controlling its arousal levels. He knew how to get you. You made a conscious effort to divert from being drawn in to Wonho’s gaze which you knew would be more than you could tolerate without dragging him somewhere private.

“What?” you questioned with a challenge.

“Nothing, nothing” he lied unapologetically. J-Hope returned reuniting the three of you at the table.

“Performances start in fifteen minutes” he announced. You were sat perfectly content until your eyes fell on the reason you’re mainstream career struggled to take off and the reason you’d vowed to never work with a male artists again. When his gaze melded with yours the bastard winked. Your eyes widened and mouth dropped slightly open with disgust. Anger swelled in your chest, raising your heart rate, adrenaline flooding your system preparing your for battle. You jumped up and made a b-line straight for him with everyone else in the room becoming a blur into the background.

“Hey, watch it!” you complained as you’d crashed into a figure. He grabbed your wrist and refused to move out of your line of fire.

“Let’s go get some air before you ruin your career” a voice spoke sternly yet quiet enough to keep the demand just between the two of you. You looked up

“Yoongi… What the fuck, I’m not…”

“You’re telling me you’re not on your way over there to attack that asshole?”

“He deserves it” you spat

“I’m not disputing that, outside now and cool down” he applied more pressure to your wrist, the way he was glaring at you, you knew he wasn’t backing down on his. Your rage hit a wall and sat simmering on hold. You rolled your eyes as he essentially escorted you out of the building.

#bts #bangtanarmynet #kpopwritersworldnet #kpopwonderlandtag #min yoongi #yoongi x reaer #BTS suga #suga x reader #suga imagines #bts fanfction #enemies to lovers

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birdsofchristmas · 5 years

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Chapter 4: The Great Tree of 2003

Everyone remembers that one great scene featured in every contemporary Christmas movie, played almost in rotation each year after November 12th rolls around. The scene is set: A lightly snowy evening in New York, the camera shows us images of the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty adorned in red and green lights then finally to people skating at Rockefeller plaza and cheerful music. At the center of it all the most magnificent Christmas tree you’ve ever seen.

I imagine my dad took these movies particularly to heart in his childhood, as In the months leading up to Christmas I’d notice our hikes into the woods became more more frequent, and his demeanor during the course of the hikes seemed to be increasingly calm. At rocky bluff summits he would have a thousand-yard stare towards the outlying gulf islands on the horizon, while owls and squirrels scurried in the surrounding evergreens.

Indeed if there was any tradition that made any sense to my dad during the Christmas season, it was having the best tree in the living room money could buy- or as was the case one year, the best tree axe could chop. Each year’s tree seemed to be an improvement on the previous years, either in size or shape or shade of green, confined merely by the height of the ceiling.

They were balsam firs mostly, occasionally a dense and hardy spruce if he could afford it that year. One year it was my dad’s favorite type of tree, which would later become known in our house as “the really great tree of 2003”, depending on who you asked (my sister preferred to call it “the great year Adam almost burned down the house”).

In 2003 we’d moved into a new house for the 4th time in as many years. To this day I swear my dad had chosen the latest house not by its geographical location, not by proximity of friends and schools, views of the mountains or even the available acreage, but for the height of Christmas tree he could drag into it.

The house was high on a hill with a view of a small farmland acreage, halfway up what felt like a mountain the top of which lead to Westwood Lake and the downslope leading to a formless void of a swamp adjacent to the highway and an apple orchard, now home to the Nanaimo SPCA facility.

The prominent feature was a staircase in the foyer, ascending to 3 bedrooms and a balcony overlooking the outside deck and an open recreational space. On the other side there was the living room and the chimney. The ceiling next to the staircase reached two stories high, from one floor of the house to the next.

I was sitting at the computer playing games as I often did in those days, when there was a banging and scratching at the door, finally a kick and a pounding as the door swung open fast enough to swing the whole rotation of its hinges then hit the wall. Standing at the door was a thick, dense series of needles and branches, then my dad’s gruff half-laughing voice he only used when he was particularly proud of himself.

“Awwwright boys,” he said, “Come lookat this tree I found! Help me bring it in!” The poor beast of a tree was laid down defeatedly with its roughly sawed trunk facing inward and the leader pointing down the driveway, extending the whole length from the front door to the sidewalk.

After a good amount of struggling and arguing with the tree we stood it up in one of those cheap stands from Canadian Tire. At first it didn’t fit in the stand so my dad sent me crawling under with a crude serrated steak knife to saw slabs off the very bottom of the trunk, until the thing could fit.

Finally the thing stood up, and my brothers and I stood in awe up to our ankles in pine needles on the carpet. I think I got the worst of it, with my arms scratched as if I’d been attacked by a cat, covered with thick resinous patches of sap. Stood up to its full height the tree was too tall even for the lofty heights of our proud ceiling. The top one foot or so was hunching over as if Charlie Brown had just pinned a giant red ornament to its head. A few minutes later dad returned with a ladder half the height of the tree and sent me up with the steak knife to saw it down until it fit.

I thought I recognized the tree from a Forestry section I studied in 4th grade. “Where did you buy this thing,“ I said, "It’s a douglas fir! There aren’t places you can buy a douglas fir is there?”

“I didn’t buy it”, he said still in his purposely gruff voice, “I got it from Mount Benson!”

Now, Mount Benson is a beautiful place, home to acres upon acres of some of the finest dense forestry on Vancouver Island. It’s just not the first place I’d imagine when thinking about the best place to pick up a Christmas tree. A hardware store maybe, outside the Country Grocer as part of a charity fundraiser, heck even out of the back of some random dude’s backyard on the corner of a busy street but not off a mountain.

It must have been a magnificent sight to behold the first time James Douglas caught sight of the towering evergreens that would later become his namesake. Unlike my dad, I highly doubt Douglas’ first thought in seeing the fir trees standing in a rich green forest in all their glory was “man, that would make a great Christmas tree!”

I haven’t even mentioned the cost of taking a tree off a mountain yet. I’d estimate the price of buying a tree to be in a store about $30-$60. The cost of stealing a tree, if you factor in the fines and the possible jail time, to be upwards of $5000 - $10,000. My dad must have thought it was a heck of a good tree to justify such great risk! Believe me, I had a lot of time to consider these things in the 2 or so hours afterwards I’d spent in the shower washing off all that sap.

Later that afternoon I was sitting back at the computer when I heard the same scratching and rustling sound I’d heard earlier when my dad first brought the tree to the door. I turned around and my heart lept out of my chest as I saw the tree falling towards me, landing directly on my head and shoulders and pushing me out of my chair to the ground with its bristly sharp branches. As it did I felt a bump on my shin as our cat Stuffy bounded out of the trees branches with fright.

“Stuffy, you little shit”, I grunted angrily as I pushed the tree aside and crawled out, covered in a fresh new series of sap tattoos. The cat looked at me wagging her tail slightly with a playful look on her face seemingly oblivious to the consequences of her desire to climb inside and explore the tree.

I reached for a shoe to throw at the cat, tossing it towards her as she pounced into the kitchen. A patch of sap on my hand caused the shoe to stick momentarily before being launched into the air, causing it to misfire and hit a tall standing lamp which also proceeded to lean towards me and fall on my head. It was as if every freestanding object in the house was out to get me suddenly, I’m half surprised the walls of the house didn’t fall on me in that moment too.

The next day my dad came up with the genius idea to tie a rope from the top of the tree to the ceiling, cementing the tree’s month long placement in our house as well as it’s reputation as an infamous tree throughout the surrounding neighborhood. “Do you remember the tree the Ropers had that one year,” the neighbors would whisper among themselves in chuckling tones in the following years, “do you suppose they just cut it down themselves? I didn’t think the thing would even fit in the house! Oh and you should have seen it in the window! Looked like the thing had grown up from the basement through the middle of the house!”

To be honest I can’t really say I blame the poor tree for falling on me. I assume this was a final act of grand retribution, after all my dad had robbed it from a peaceful life with fresh air and a charming mountain view, home among thousands of other trees sharing in the calmness of the forest, the kind of life most anxious humans could only dream of. And I probably deserved it.

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adamroper · 6 years

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A Christmas Foot part 4: The Great Tree of 2003

I thought I recognized the tree from a Forestry section I studied in 4th grade. “Where did you buy this thing," I said, "It’s a douglas fir! There aren’t places you can buy a douglas fir is there?”

“I didn’t buy it”, he said still in his purposely gruff voice, “I got it from Mount Benson!”

to be continued...

#a christmas foot #christmas stories #Christmas

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