#okay fine i’ll cave. here’s my spotify wrapped

[tetzoro]

zoro’s 110 cm chest is always on the brain

[honeypiehotchner]

intelligence & issues (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- chapter twenty-eight

Hi babes! I forgot to say this last chapter, but I made a playlist for this story! Here’s the link xx. You’re welcome to snoop around my Spotify! I make tons of playlists haha (Here’s the link to the “pov: you’re falling in love with aaron hotchner” one <3)

Chapter title is from “Let’s Get Married” by Bleachers!

Warnings: lots of ~suggestive~ comments (no smut), angst if you squint (i think), loads of fluff

Previous chapter || Fic Masterlist

Chapter Twenty-Eight: I know it’s hard enough to love me

Aaron doesn’t get done at the BAU until seven. Much later than he wanted, but he had work that he couldn’t abandon. The case still wasn’t closed yet – all the paperwork is done now, but it normally doesn’t take him this long.

He shouldn’t overanalyze his every move, but he can’t help it. He knows he’s walking a thin line, dating a member of his team. A fellow agent, a much younger fellow agent, when he’s a divorced father who doesn’t even have custody of his own son, only visitation.

It’s tearing him apart. But the one thing that puts him back together, is seeing you.

So, that’s what he does.

He didn’t like leaving you this morning. He didn’t want to. But he didn’t expect the psych eval to upset you as much as it did. He truly was only trying to give you a heads up – even though that’s against his rules, too.

He’s breaking all his rules for you. Every last one of them.

And yet, you don’t care.

You open your apartment door to him, and you throw yourself in his arms like you’ve waited all day for him.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” he says, kicking your door closed with his foot. His arms are around your waist and yours are around his neck, so he’s lifting you off the ground just enough to carry you over to the couch. He’s careful when he shifts your weight as he sits down, so he can swing your legs around gently so you’re sitting in his lap, your arms never having to leave their place around his neck.

“It’s okay,” you say, your voice muffled due to the fact that you’re hiding your face in his neck. “I’m sorry I was so grumpy this morning.”

Aaron sighs, rubbing your back. “You’re forgiven, I promise.”

You lift your head a little to press a kiss to his cheek, your apology in two parts. “My mom and I talked about it.”

“What did she have to say about it?”

You smile softly. “That you look at me the way my grandpa looked at my grandma.”

Aaron hums, curious.

You continue. “She said you looked like you’d bring the moon down to Earth if I asked you.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your lips. “I would.” Another kiss. “I’d need some help.” Another kiss. “But just say the word.”

Another kiss and you’re giggling. “I don’t need the moon, Aaron.”

“No?” He raises an eyebrow. “Or are you too afraid to ask?”

You shake your head. “I’m not.”

He tilts his head, giving you another look. “Little girl…”

“No,” you stop him, pulling him closer, staring into the glass of whiskey that is his eyes. “I don’t need the moon…because I have you.” You pause, watching his eyes, seeing his reaction. “And that’s enough,” you whisper. “I don’t know how to let you love me, but I’m gonna try.”

“Y/N…”

“Mom told me you just love me too much. You’re not trying to upset me, you’re just…trying to make sure I’m okay and that I can do this without killing myself, I guess.”

“She’s right,” he adds softly.

“I know she is,” you chuckle. “She’s right a lot more than I want her to be, but point is, I’m not mad at you. Thank you for the warning about the psych eval. I know you weren’t trying to be a dick by doing it.” He’s not out to get you. You know that now, or you’re trying to.

“Thank you for saying all this,” he says quietly, the one hand that isn’t holding your back coming up to brush your cheek. “I owe you an apology, too. I didn’t do a good job of explaining earlier and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you right before I had to leave. That wasn’t fair.”

“It really wasn’t,” you laugh, “but thank you.”

He hums, sealing the resolve with another kiss. “Have you eaten dinner?”

You shake your head. “I was waiting for you.”

He sighs, smiling despite his better judgment. “I appreciate that, but it’s late. You didn’t need to wait for me.”

“Well, tough.” You lay your head on his shoulder, biting your cheeks to keep from smiling. You’re more than well aware that that little comment will poke Aaron’s buttons. His hand tightening around your waist is evidence of it.

“What do you want to eat, brat?”

Your breath hitches. Then, as if you want to make it worse, you say, “Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

Aaron sighs again, this time tired and ragged, holding on by a thin thread. “Food, little girl. Food. My cock isn’t food.”

“Well…”

“Y/N.”

“Fine, fine. I don’t know, pizza? Pizza is a safe bet.”

“Pizza it is then,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. While he’s looking up the number of the pizza place, he says nonchalantly, “You know I’m not fucking you until you’re fully recovered. I won’t say it a third time.”

You want to argue because technically sucking him off isn’t him fucking you, but you decide not to. Right now.

Later, you will. He’ll cave eventually. You’re sure of it.

+++

Aaron curves your every attempt to steer things in a more sensual direction. You don’t mind it really, you like teasing him like this – even if you know it’ll come back to bite you in the ass when he decides to punish you for it all. But he insists on not fucking you.

You know you were just shot, but you wish he’d just slam you into the wall already.

Unfortunately, your injured leg doesn’t coordinate with your desire because rough sex – or any sex – is off the table now.

You weren’t going to take any pain medicine for it because it wasn’t hurting that bad, but then it got worse, and you think it’s probably because you did laundry today when you definitely shouldn’t have. You’re not telling Aaron that, though. No way.

Still, he made you take some pain medicine, and now you’re settling into the first Harry Potter movie. He kept his word and you did, too. He needs to watch all of them.

You’re lying down now with your head in his lap – on a pillow, of course, because he doesn’t want you getting any ideas – as the familiar tune of the opening scene plays.

You doze in and out, falling asleep quickly because Aaron’s hands are massaging small circles into your head. You recall him throwing a blanket over you at some point, so you must’ve been shivering.

It’s not long before you’ve fallen asleep completely, waking only after the movie has ended and Aaron has you in his arms bridal style, carrying you to your bed.

“What time is it?” You mumble, turning to bury your face in his shirt, inhaling the familiar smell that is your man.

“Almost eleven,” he whispers back.

You hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Are you staying?”

“Of course,” he replies almost instantly. “I stuck a bag in here when we surprised you.”

“You did?” You ask, smiling stupidly. “Cheeky motherfucker.”

He laughs, catching himself and muffling the sound so it doesn’t rattle your eardrums as hard. “Just looking out for my little girl.”

You hum again, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Your little girl loves it. And you.”

“And I love her too,” he murmurs. “Can I put you down now?”

Your eyes pop open lazily, seeing you’re in your bedroom. “Have you just been holding me?”

He nods as he lowers you onto the bed. “I felt like holding you.”

You hold onto his neck, and he doesn’t seem to mind as he stays bent over you, his nose brushing against yours. In the dim light, you take him in, searching his brown eyes, trying to find some reasoning, some magic spell that made it possible for him to love you this much.

“You better stop,” you whisper, not knowing where this is going.

“Or what?” He asks, inching closer, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Or I’ll wanna marry you for real,” you mumble. You’re aware of what you’re saying, but the exhaustion from the pain medicine makes it hard to fully process your own words. All you know is you mean them, every syllable.

“I already want to marry you,” he replies quietly. He’s not sure if you’re even coherent right now. You look like you are, but it seems too good to be true.

And as if his thoughts are confirmed, your eyes slip closed, sleep taking over.

You probably won’t remember this in the morning.

But he hopes you will.

+++

When you wake up, Aaron is long gone.

There’s a note next to a glass of water on your nightstand. He’s left for work and is going to try to be back earlier this evening. You smile at the thought, knowing he’ll get caught up again, but you don’t mind. It comes with the job.

You would love to go to the office for lunch. Maybe surprise him this time? You wouldn’t need a ride, as long as you don’t take anymore pain medicine today. The affects from last night’s is already gone.

He might kill you for it, but you’re doing it anyway. You miss everyone.

So, on that note, you get up and eat a quick breakfast before throwing on the comfiest clothes you own. It’ll be weird going into the BAU in these clothes with your badge clipped to the edge of your sweatshirt instead of to a blazer.

And sure enough, it does.

Stepping off the elevator on the floor of the BAU feels more nerve-wracking than it should.

On one hand, you’re excited to be here again, to see the rest of the team and to surprise all of them. On the other hand, you know Aaron won’t be happy with you (at first) for coming here. And you have this strange pit in your stomach, but you’re not sure what that’s about.

You push the negative feelings away and try to stay positive, focusing on the reactions from the rest of the team. They’ll be happy to see you, no doubt. That’s what you should be focusing on.

You’ve barely rounded the corner when you run into Penelope.

She grins, shaking her head. “You’re not supposed to be here, you sneaky little weasel.”

“I know, I know,” you groan. “But I was going insane and I miss you guys! I had to come visit and surprise everyone for lunch.”

“I can order in your favorite,” Penelope winks. “Come, come. Let’s grab JJ.”

Penelope links her arm with yours and the two of you walk to JJ’s office. JJ is at her desk and not on the phone for once, but the stacks of case files are as tall as ever. She looks up when you knock on her doorframe, and her face breaks into a grin.

“Hey you!” She stands, ignoring the open file to give you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to say hi,” you chuckle, squeezing her tight. “I’m going insane doing nothing.”

“It’s barely been two weeks,” JJ laughs. “What are you gonna do for the other two months?”

“Don’t even tell me that,” you groan. “I don’t know. I’ll just come bug you guys every day off the clock, I guess.”

“And if they’re gone, you can come camp out with me in my lair,” Penelope offers.

“Of course,” you nudge her arm. “I’ll probably hide out with you to avoid the wrath of Hotch.”

“He doesn’t know you’re here?” JJ asks. She grimaces when you nod. “Good luck with that one, sister.”

“Why do you think I want to walk in there with you guys? I’m not going into the lion’s den alone.”

“Oh, you’d be fine,” Penelope laughs. “We’re still having a girl’s night, right? We still need details and you are not getting out of it.”

“Yes, yes, we can, we’ll find time,” you promise.

After another moment of idle conversation, the three of you head up the hall to the bullpen. Through the glass doors, you can see Reid doing another magical science trick, and he must be practicing because Derek and Emily are working on some paperwork instead of watching him.

You decide to surprise Emily first since her desk is closest. Derek spots you, but doesn’t say a word, letting you sneak up behind Emily.

“Did you use my shampoo?” You ask right into her ear (don’t ask why, it’s the first thing that came to mind).

She spins around and jumps up, pulling you into a hug. Derek gives you a hug next, and Reid waves from his desk before going back to whatever experiment he’s in the middle of doing.

“Where’s Hotch?” You ask, glancing between everyone.

“Your man is in his office,” Derek snickers. “What? Did you not get enough lovin’ this morning?”

“Shut it, Morgan,” you try to smack his arm, but he dodges your swing with a laugh. “And since you asked so nicely, I’m never satisfied.”

Your shit-eating grin earns cheering from the girls, but Morgan groans loudly, shuddering.

“I did not need to know that, L/N. Seriously.”

You shrug. “Don’t ask then.”

Morgan shakes his head, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I’m glad to see you’re just as feisty as always.”

“That’ll never leave me,” you wrap an arm around his waist, accepting his hug. “Where’s Rossi?”

“He took today off,” Emily answers.

“Something about his publisher,” JJ shrugs.

“Another book?” You ask. “I thought he was done with that.”

“Maybe,” Morgan says. “And I thought you weren’t allowed back here for at least another month.”

“To work,” you clarify, poking his stomach. “I’m just here to bug you guys and have lunch. I’m enjoying my time off, thank you very much.”

“You’re bored, aren’t you?”

“Out of my fucking mind,” you admit with a laugh.

You’re too busy talking to Morgan to realize Hotch has walked out of his office and is standing on the balcony, arms crossed over his chest, and a near death glare settled on you.

“Uh oh,” Morgan mutters, sliding his arm off your shoulders.

Your arm slips from around his waist, your eyebrows furrowing. “What—Oh. Oops.”

“Y/N,” Hotch says firmly. “Can I speak to you in my office?”

“You’re gon’ get it now,” Morgan says under his breath.

But you hear the remark, so you punch him in his side. “Of course, sir,” you say to Hotch, adding another jab to Morgan’s ribs when you hear him snickering at you. You’re gonna get him back later. So bad.

Aaron turns and walks back into his office. He’s closing the blinds when you walk in.

“Shut the door,” he says sternly.

You do as you’re told (for once), shutting the door behind you. “Aaron, I can expl—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because the wind is knocked out of you, and Aaron lips are smothering your own. He nips at your bottom lip, and you open up for him, moaning when his tongue doesn’t even fight for dominance, just takes. The kiss has you hot all over, thanks to his wandering hands that run under your sweatshirt, leaving goosebumps everywhere his fingertips touch.

When he pulls back, you’re breathless, your chest heaving, your eyes wide, lips bruised.

“Um,” you pause to take a deep breath, licking your buzzing lips. “I’m sorry?”

“We’ll talk about this later,” he says sternly. “You’re lucky they’re out there or I’d bend you over my desk.”

You swallow thickly. “You still can.”

He smirks, but shakes his head, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. “No. And if they ask, you can say we were discussing your psych eval.”

You deflate at its mention. You try not to show it, but Aaron sees it. “When is that, by the way?”

“The Friday after next,” he says quietly. “At noon.”

“Okay,” you murmur. “When are you supposed to formally tell me?”

He chuckles. “Today is fine. I can tell Strauss I called you in to discuss it and you decided to have lunch with the team – if she asks.”

“Are you okay with lying to her this much?”

“Believe it or not, I’ve lied to her more often than you think. Before you joined us.”

“I don’t believe it,” you smirk. “You’re always such a stickler for the rules.”

“And yet here I am,” he pauses, kissing you again, “in love with you.”

“Loving me is dangerous, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

Next chapter

[infernal-fire]

Easy To Be Loved

Warnings: whole lotta floof, bits of angst

Pairing(s): Steve x Hindu!reader

Summary: Part of your identity has always been notoriously difficult to embrace. Lucky for you, Steve will be there every step of the way on your journey to redefine yourself.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: i’m hindu myself (i practice shaivism specifically) and this fic includes some customs from my own culture. i tried to stay as ambiguous as i could to include as many people as i could.

and i made the moodboard myself! pretty proud of it :) let me know what you guys think :)

You stared at the wedding invitation your friend, Amara, had excitedly pressed into your hands. It had been years since you visited family, let alone a temple. The prospect of going to the temple for a wedding again - well, it was frightening. You would have to deal with the cultural neglect that you have been refusing to acknowledge ever since you began Avenging. 

You didn’t go to the wedding. 

Amara didn’t take it well. The argument that ensued when she showed up to the Tower was messy. Onlookers tried their best to ignore it but the physical cringes and judgmental looks were far from subtle. 

“What did you think not showing up was going to do Y/N? Wash away your culture?” She was a crying mess, but it wasn’t her who should be embarrassed. “You can’t whitewash yourself into a different person.” her voice cracked with frustration before she stormed off. 

It was dramatic for you to not go to the wedding and her outburst was completely justified. You had gotten the saree and even the jewellery you were going to wear. But the morning of, you stared at the outfit laid in front of you and blinked twice before stalking off.

Your family practically disowned you after you joined the Avengers. Being an assassin… it wasn’t a traditionally accepted job, to say the least. Their lack of support had turned you bitter, your angst being redirected at your culture. Slowly, you began shedding the part of your identity that still held you to them. No more music or movies in your language, no more cultural food, and no more praying. 

You were ashamed. You couldn’t have sucked it up and showed up to support your friend? 

Steve had overheard the entire argument. He didn’t even need super-hearing to know what was going down in the lobby. It saddened him to think that you needed to get rid of a part of yourself in order to forget about an unsupportive family. Now, it was coming back to bite you in the ass. 

Tony announced another one of his parties that week. “Dress code is formal and fancy. If I see any of you show up in sweats, I’ll get your room cleaned out,” he threatened. 

The day before the party, Steve showed up to your room. “Just a little something,” he looked sheepish as he handed you a bag. You thanked him and padded to your bed to open it. You looked back to call him, but Steve had bolted after giving you the gift.

The party raved on and you nervously fixed the pleats again. This is a bad idea, everyone is gonna laugh at you. You knocked on your head once, trying to get rid of the thought and made your way downstairs before you could change your mind. 

Walking in, you expected people to shoot you funny looks or whisper to the nearest person. But no one cared. People smiled and continued their conversations, not bothering to make fun of you. The enamoured look that filled partygoers’ eyes was a complete contrast to what you had been telling yourself. Steve’s face lit up from seeing your outfit - a plain black saree and a gold border, paired with an exaggerated statement necklace. Simple, but so elegant. He was surprised you actually wore his gift. 

“Gonna grab pop tarts!” you popped your head into the kitchen. Bucky and Steve were mid-conversation and Clint was arm-wrestling Rhodey. “There are snacks in the cupboard.” Clint strained, still trying to hold off Rhodey. “There’s nothing good there,” you mumbled and walked off. Steve called after you and you paused to let him catch up. “I’ll come with?” he asked. “Sure.” 

Steve got in the car and connected to the Bluetooth while you put in the address for the store. “I made a playlist for you,” Steve mentioned as he hit play. “It has a bunch of popular songs in your language. I shared it with you on Spotify.” 

You turned to look at him, unsure what to say. Even you wouldn’t have gone out of your way to do that for yourself. You learned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’.

You fell in love with Steve. It was unexpected, but how could you not see it coming? The man did everything he could to get you to embrace your culture again. While you were getting back into practising tradition, your culture was still a source of insecurity. Steve would never date a Hindu girl. He was only helping ‘cause you’re his friend. And because you’re slightly pathetic. 

The battle within yourself raged on as you couldn’t make up your mind. Should you make a move... or not!?

The final straw of your resolve was washed away on a fine Friday afternoon.

You walked into the kitchen, sorting through the contents of the fridge when Steve tapped you on the shoulder. 

“I know you don’t eat meat on Friday’s so I made you some vegetarian food.” 

You hadn’t even realized that he noticed. But here he was, showing you that he cared, time after time, again and again. You burst into tears and clutched his shirt while the others in the kitchen tried their best to ignore you for the sake of secondhand embarrassment. 

Steve pulled you into another room. “Hey, hey, love? You okay?” he questioned, trying to wipe your tears for you. “Why are you going out of your way to help me like this?” you sobbed into his chest. 

At last, your dam of emotions caved in - it was time to come clean to him.

Apparently, he had the same idea. “I just don’t want you to ignore such a special part of you. Your culture sets you aside from everyone here, and that’s exactly why you should embrace it. And...” he hesitated, “I love you, Y/N.”

You hugged him as hard as you could and he wrapped his arms around your quivering figure. “I love you too Steve,” you sniffled. 

“So you’ll let me make you vegetarian food every Friday?” he asked,  tilting your chin up with one finger. “Yes, every Friday,” you laughed and nuzzled your head back into his chest. “For the rest of our lives?” he inquired. “For the rest of our lives,” you confirmed, looking up again to meet for a kiss. 

This is for Dani’s 2021 Fic Challenge! @stuckonjbbarnes​

Masterlist

Tag list:  @partiesandblurrypolaroids @hitmewithyourbest-shot @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @bval-1 @quxxnxfhxll​ 

Other tags: @mculibrary​

[wildly-lost-lantern]

Seven Point Star

A/N GUESS WHOS BACK!!! IS ME BITCHES! Ah this took so so so long to write and get out. I’m sorry. But, I’m having a grand ole time writing, and I’m already working out the third chapter. 

Pairings: OT7 x Female OC

Genre: Lowkey crack, lowkey fluff.

Warnings: None right now!

Word count: 2500+

Chapter Two: Meeting Them

Two days after my audition, I was sitting in a café with my best friend, Jennie. She sat back in her chair, a smug smile playing on her lips. All I could do was groan at her.

"Seriously, Yuna. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. You'll be fine, I promise!" her voice conveyed an amusement I wasn't happy about. I glared at her slightly, annoyed that she didn't understand my concerns.

"Look, I'm just concerned. What if-" my sentence was cut short by my ringtone. I looked down and saw BigHit flashing across my screen. Immediately, I answered. "This is Park Yuna," I said, professionalism lacing my words. The woman on the other end of the line told me that I have officially been offered the job, and to look at my email for the paperwork and see when my first day was. After a brief conversation, the call ended.

"Told you so," Jennie's smug response made me roll my eyes. She was insufferable when she was right about something. I simply ignored her and looked out the window. A face caught my eye, and for a brief moment, I thought it was my mom.

"Oh my god," my voice was barely above a whisper, and by the time Jennie turned to see what had caught my attention, the woman was gone. I brushed it off and we continued our conversation.

"So? You never did tell me if you met any of the idols," she said to me, leaning forward as if we were talking about some big secret. I shrugged in response.

"Yeah, I met Namjoon and Hoseok, so what? They're people too, you know," I pretended to be disinterested, obviously to mess with her. She always got so excited by meeting new idols. She worked with them on a daily basis, so how she was always so excited was beyond me.

"And your point is, exactly?" she sassed back, her left eyebrow raised in a 'try me' way. I simply giggled.

"They're nice. I mostly spent the time teaching, you know, trying to get a job and all?" I let my snarky attitude come out in full affect. She simple scoffed and pouted my way.

"You're no fun," she said. If one could speak in tiny font, she would be. I just smiled at her, raising my cup in agreement. “Anyway, I’m proud of you. When’s your first day?” She then asked, subtly asking when I would see those men again.

“Monday. I’m teaching them choreo for their new song. They’re getting ready for a comeback,” I said, drinking the last of my coffee. I noticed a younger girl watching me, so I leaned in to Jennie to whisper, “We should probably talk about this in private.” I glanced back at the girl, noticing she was still watching.

“Yeah, so, let’s grab some more coffee and head home, how’s that sound?” She asked, making sure it looked like we were done having a conversation and just leaving.

“Honestly, I’m ready to get out of these, clothes. Let’s do it,” I said, standing with her to go to the counter. When I glanced back at the kid, she was whispering to her friend, point at Jennie and me. As soon as our drinks were up, we left the shop and walked to our shared apartment.

“Anyway, I got asked out, again. Like, can’t these guys realize I’m not the dating type? I like being able to just go out and have fun, and,” Jennie looked over at me, realizing I wasn’t listening, “sleep with whatever dumb guy looks at me for three seconds to long? Getting wasted every night. You’re not listening anymore.” She crossed her arms over her chest, sending a soft glare my way.

“Oh! Sorry, sorry, I zoned out. I should be getting the track shortly after my forms are completed, so I was working through some things in my head. I’m all ears now, though!” I smiled and nudged her gently, guiding her back to her story.

Once we both made it home, we got comfy and put on a Netflix show, mostly for background noise as I worked on my paperwork. Shortly after I emailed it back to the company, I got sent the new albums completed track list. Much to Jennie’s disappointment, I couldn’t share it with her at all. I downloaded the files onto my phone and plugged my headphones in, getting right to work. Writing down counts, moves, positions for each of the seven men, transitions, and everything else took nearly two and a half hours. That was only one song. I spent the rest of the night working on other songs before I caved and went to sleep.

I woke up the next day, getting right back to work, finishing up the choreographies for the last few songs through breakfast and the first half of the day. After I ate lunch, I went to the dance studio I practiced at, and worked out the kinks in as many songs as I could get through. Then my phone rang. “Hey, Jennie. What’s up?” I answered my phone, chugging down some water after a particularly difficult dance sequence.

“Hey, it’s almost six-thirty. Want me to bring dinner to the studio?” She asked, obviously cooking. If it was already six-thirty and I got through two and a half songs, I could probably go home for the day.

“No, I’ll come home. I’m done for the day I think. I got a lot done,” I said, starting to pack my stuff. By the time the call ended, I was already out of the studio, walking to the apartment. Then, my phone rang again, this time and unknown number. Not knowing who it could be, I sent it to voicemail. Thirty seconds later, the same number called again.

“Hello?” I said, answering it this time. I tried to stay as neutral as possible, not knowing if it could be a fellow staff member or not.

“Hi, is this Park Yuna?” the person on the other end asked. I thought I recognized the voice, but I wasn’t sure.

“Yes, may I ask who’s calling?” I responded, keeping my voice respectful. I felt myself walking quicker due to nerves.

“Ah, sorry, it’s Kim Namjoon. I was wondering, have you been working on the choreography? I know it was all kind of quick, but seriously, you are the best we had seen. You even taught me a lyrical piece,” he quickly explained. I laughed softly, shaking my head.

“Yes, I’ve been working on it. I have the title track down, and another one finished. We can get started right away tomorrow morning,” I said, keeping my confidence high. “Why did you call me about that, though? Wouldn’t it be better left to managers or something?” I asked, coming to a stop outside my apartment. A soft laugh came from the other side, as I rested against the door frame.

“Well, yeah. But as the leader of this group, I like to know all the people we work closely with,” he said with a sigh. I felt like he was hiding something, but I decided not to push my luck.

“That makes sense. I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Kim,” I said, getting ready to hang up the phone call.

“In the morning then, Miss Park,” He said, ending the call. I smiled softly at my phone, slightly amused by the leader.

I entered my apartment, wrapping my tail around my calf. “Jennie? I’m home,” I called out as I took off my shoes and put my bag down.

“Ah! Yuna, I’m in here. I’m almost done,” Jennie yelled from the kitchen. I smiled, walking in that direction. “I made a stir fry, babes. How did it go at the studio?” She was putting food onto plates for us when I stepped into the room.

“It went great, I got two done. The title track and an extra one just in case they want to work on something else tomorrow,” I said as I sat down at the kitchen island. Jennie sat across from me and smiled.

“So, are you excited?” she leaned forward slightly, her eyes shining with interest. The way she sat, staring at me was making it known we were having this conversation even if I didn’t like it.

“I’m really excited actually. Maybe a little nervous,” I started, taking a bite into my food. “This is really good! Thank you,” I immediately started shoveling food into my mouth, having not realized how hungry I was.

“Jeez, lady, breath!” Jennie laughed out loud at me, obviously amused by my antics. “Anyway, did anything interesting happen today?” She asked me, trying to pry some sort of gossip from me. Her face was easy to read, having known her most of my life.

“Uhm, nothing much, I think? I’ve just been, you know, working?” I giggled at her softly, my natural snark coming through.

“Yeah, okay. But seriously, did you get to meet anyone new? Make any friends?” She asked, quickly finishing up her food. All I could do was shake my head.

“No, I locked myself in the sound proof dance studio and just focused,” I said, getting up to help with the dishes that needed to be done. Just leaving them out would stress me out. After the small chore was done, Jennie and I sat on the couch, watching some show on Netflix. A few hours had passed, and I was getting tired, so I stood up. “Alright, it’s late, so I’m going to bed, babes,” I told her. I gave her a hug and went to my room to crawl into bed.

The next morning, I woke up to my alarm blaring my favorite song. I knew Jennie was already gone, so I loaded up my Spotify and started to get ready for my day. I threw on my favorite work out leggings and paired them with my favorite long-sleeved shirt. I pulled my dark brown hair up into a messy bun. I ate a quick breakfast, and then collected my dance book, phone charger, water bottle, and a change of socks. I threw it all into a small back pack, and then grabbed my lanyard with my keys and wallet. Pulling on my sneakers, I headed to the building. I had to get a badge for being able to get deeper into the building without having to get a security escort if I was going to continue to work there full time.

It was nine when I arrived at the BigHit building, which was just enough time to get all settled in before the group was scheduled to arrive. From the moment I stepped foot in the building, it was a whirl wind of chaos getting me in their employee system and my security badge. Before I knew it, I was in the practice room, reading over my notes. Five minutes later, BTS started to stream in through the door. Once they all had arrived, I smiled softly and shook my head. This was it. Time to prove my worth.

“Alright! Let’s get started,” I clapped my hands to get their attention. I suddenly felt a little over whelmed with all seven pairs of eyes on me. Nevertheless, I continued on. “I’m Yuna, your new choreographer. J-Hope, I’ll probably work closely with you. Anything I need to know about you all before we get started?” I asked, looking around the small circle. Immediately, J-Hope stepped toward me and smiled brightly.

“Nice to see you again, Yuna. Welcome to the team. You did really well, and I’m glad the company decided to choose you. Let me know if and how I can help. Again, please call me by my real name, not my stage name,” he said, gently patting my shoulder.

“You’re not Korean? Where are you from?” Taehyung, the ever curious guy he is, asked me. I looked at him shocked, not used to being asked that so directly. However, before I could reply, Yoongi stepped in.

“Taehyung, you can’t just be so blunt with people. It sets them on edge,” He scolded softly. I just shook my head and laughed.

“Well, it’s okay. I’m from America. I moved here to work for companies like BigHit, because they best options in America was ballet companies, and that just wasn’t for me,” I explained to them. They all looked at me with wide eyes.

“Wait, so you just left your home country and moved somewhere different… for a job?” Jeongguk asked me, looking amazed. I simply nodded in response. “Whoa, noona, you’re so cool!” He clapped slightly, his bright smile making me smile.

“Actually, you all are older than me,” I said softly, suddenly unsure if they’d be so happy to have me here if they knew I was young. There was a collective gasp throughout the room.

“Really?? What year were you born? I can’t believe you’re younger than me,” the overly excited youngest asked me, nearly bouncing with joy.

“Uhm, ninety-nine,” I said, suddenly overwhelmed by his energy. “Alright, we should get started. Which song do you guys want to start with?” After a brief discussion on the best place to start, we decided to go with the chorus of the title song. I jumped right in to blocking making sure the boys knew which direction they were going to be coming from as well. “Now, you, Hoseok, you’ll come center for twenty counts. Okay, good. Now you have this move,” I said, demonstrating the arm movement with the foot work I decided on.

“Wow, you’re really a great teacher, Yuna-ssi,” Seokjin said, grabbing my shoulder gently. I flushed under the praise, although it was completely innocent. We continued through with learning the transition into the chorus, out of the chorus formation, and the dance during. After about an hour of hard work, I decided on a break.

“Yah! Don’t touch that, you brat. You’ll break it,” Yoongi said to Namjoon, unsurprisingly. I turned around to see him trying to mess with the speakers and sound system in the room. I giggled and went back to looking over my notes, taking long drinks of my water.

“Yuna! Watch this! I turned to see Jeongguk goofing around with Jimin. I shook my head at their antics. All of a sudden a familiar song started to blast through the speakers. My phone had started to ring. When I looked down at the caller ID, I almost stopped breathing. On my screen, in bold lettering, was my mother’s name. With shaking hands, I disconnected my Bluetooth and answered it.