#opportunity HAS to fall in order for them to realize the big picture here just separates people more
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ruvviks ¡ 6 months ago
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all that's left as a story about community in a world where everything is trying to push people apart is sooooo
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swan-orpheus ¡ 2 years ago
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A fascinating read. I love Soller’s detailed thought process: https://editorial.rottentomatoes.com/article/andors-kyle-soller-discusses-the-slippery-fate-awaiting-ambitious-obsessive-syril-karn/
The amount of thought that he put into this:
“[It] definitely falls in line with this intellectual belief that the corporate fascist environment and system is something that is the answer to control and regulate society. And Syril’s core values — beliefs of rule and order and law, and really good tailoring – the circumstances of his life and his dampening of his own emotional antenna and social antenna absolutely primes him to exist within that structure.“
Does that mixture make him the most dangerous person we’ve met so far?
Soller: I think it definitely makes for someone who’s not necessarily in control, and that is something that we’re exploring with Syril. He has this deep emotional life that he keeps bitten down beneath his surface. Everything is zipped up into this perfect hairstyle, perfect clothing, and yet there is this massive, frustrated turmoil underneath. And that means he’s constantly at battle within himself, and he can’t really see five feet beyond him about how his actions are influencing those around him.
I love how this show is turning familiar concepts on their head. And here is another great example. The clumsy, doomed to trip over nothing or run into a hallway and get shot villain stereotype. The comical bad guy. 
Syril Karn may have the color and consistency of a wet noodle, but he isn’t incompetent, actually is good at what he does and whether you want to admit it or not, is rather perceptive. His major flaw isn’t incompetence or a lack of insight so much as not being the best judge of situations and their complexity. He has a laser focus, he’s obsessive, he notices things but does not always draw the proper conclusion or see the big picture. He’s obsessed with the “how”, but does not ask “Why? which makes him the perfect tool for a giant fascist super structure. He never realized that Verlo and Kravas were not worth vindicating, and were in all likelihood running a racket where they would abuse their authority to mug people under the guise of doing their job in order to fund their expensive revnog and brothel habit. He doesn’t even probe any further into their backgrounds or asses their characters. They are the victims and Cassian is the suspect. It seems that he has very little experience interacting with people on a more practical, human level so he sorts them into types based on his upbringing/indoctrination. He has intuition and intellect but lacks certain tools.
His confrontation/meeting with Dedra is off-putting and alarming but like it or not, he’s not wrong about her. We just get so distracted by how he internalizes everything and lives inside of his own head and is socially awkward that we forget to notice that he is actually potentially very dangerous. 
Sure, Timm Karlo snitched on Cassian. But the only reason that the bulletin went out to Ferrix in the first place was because Syril went to the navigation room, saw a blip on a screen and had someone filter the evening for unmarked vehicles. Because he spotted the vehicle in question and traced it back to Ferrix is the reason that Timm was even given the opportunity at all. Syril knew what to look for and what channels to go through. And given Syril’s disposition, I do not doubt that in the absence of an anonymous tip, he would have gone down to the planet regardless and questioned folks. He was not about to let it go.
Syril slurping his cereal is amusing. His mother is toxic and overbearing, but Kathryn Hunter’s mannerisms are oftentimes funny. The way that she changes tack at the speed of light when she finds out that Syril has received a promotion feels humorous. But she’s done a real number on her son and only values him for his status even if she loves him. This show is great for illustrating how there are many faces and sides to people and to situations, that something funny can be pretty awful, that nasty people can crack jokes or appear somewhat silly, but it does not lessen their impact. 
Syril’s halting speech, the doe-eyed look of warped admiration that he gives Dedra. From a certain angle, these examples are hilarious (as well as creepy). And yet they are not. This is not like certain other Star Wars products that I will not name where the antagonists truly are laugh out loud ridiculous, over the top caricatures of fascist rhetoric and goose stepping hijinks. 
No, I do not honestly think that Syril is going to snap and murder his mother. I’m also not convinced that he’s a bomb waiting to go off. The writers are far too subtle for that. But he is definitely up to something and awkward or not he is calculating. We underestimate his potential threat at our peril. He’s raising alarms and generally annoying Dedra Meero in particular, but it isn’t as haphazard and foolish as it appears. I would also argue that Sgt. Mosk is responsible for a lot of what went kablooey on Ferrix. He was a bored fanatic, a zealot who smelled an opportunity to strike and who could be seen drinking on the job and had all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. (You don’t send in 12 men armed to the teeth and barge into town to track down a twitchy suspect.) Syril just happened to be along for the ride and didn’t do much except follow him into disaster. But now he has learned from his mistakes, found a better, far more cool, competent class of authoritarian nutjob, spotted her weakness even if she hasn’t yet realized it and is waiting for the moment when she inevitably contacts him, if say Bix escapes or she has no other leads, and demonstrates that she is as desperate to find Cassian as Syril suspects. Just because he wears his fervor like a badge and gushes his elation at Dedra when he runs across her again, does not mean that he is creepy but ineffectual. After all, why hasn’t she had him arrested yet? 
I mean, he could very well slip on a banana peel in the next three eps and prove me wrong. But the point still stands, that unlike other shows this one is showing us again and again via Syril, Luthen, Lt. Gorn, Vel, Tay Kolma etc that you cannot judge a person by their appearance alone, that peoples’ allegiances and the scope of them are not always what they seem at first glance, that seriousness can hide behind levity, that all clothing is a costume, a disguise, and that everyone wears a series of masks hiding their true nature from the audience. 
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cupofteaguk ¡ 4 years ago
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switching my positions
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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? 
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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. 
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bestiesenpai ¡ 4 years ago
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firsts with Gojo Satoru
Every day I’m reminded that Gojo is 6.3ft and every day I remind myself that I could still slap the shit out of him and I wouldn’t even have to reach that high. That is what brings me inner peace.
First meeting
It’s not often that the Gojo Satoru is tasked with cleaning up curses of any grade less than level 1, but sometimes while he was casually out and about he would see a few and handle them with no issue
Like the cluster of fly heads going through the street, harassing people
It takes him no time at all to get to them, a few long strides and he’s there
With a swipe of his hand, the curses are expelled, gone from the world and no longer causing havoc
“What were those things?” A curious voice asks off to the side. Lowering his sunglasses, Satoru turns to the person looking at where the curses had just been.
“What things?” He feigns ignorance and it makes you snort.
“Those flying things you just got rid of. I was watching them for a while, they were pretty annoying.” While you’re talking, Satoru is sizing you up. He can sense just a tiny bit of cursed energy coming from you, not enough to be of any use except for the ability to see curses.
Worrying his lip, Satoru debated on how much he should tell you, if anything at all. He thought you were cute, so maybe he could tell you a little bit and then lead it into another conversation...maybe get your number.
“Are you okay?” Suddenly you’re closer to him than you were before. In all his going back and forth he’d failed to see you take a few steps closer and peer at him, that curious look back in your eyes. “Try not to think too hard, mister, I wouldn’t want your pretty face to get all wrinkled now.”
Satoru actually laughs at that, his chest nearly bumping into you with how close you two are now. He even bends a little at the waist, completely caught off guard by how you, a perfect stranger, have just spoken to him.
“Ya know, that’s not the usual response I get from people.” Fixing his glasses on his head, Satoru fixes you with a smirk he knows people swoon over. “And my name’s not ‘mister’. It’s Satoru, Gojo Satoru.”
“Okay.” His smirk wavers just slightly when he realizes you’re not exactly falling into his arms, just nodding and then you’re pointing to the sky where the fly heads had been. “So Gojo, what were those things?”
First hangout
Gojo does end up telling you the truth about the flyheads and you take it better than he was expecting
He was quick to get your first and last name, maybe you were from a family of sorcerers...but you weren’t. Just a normal person who saw him expel some curses
The conversation quickly ends after he’s done explaining it to you, much to his chagrin. He’d laid on the charm thick, hoping you’d ask for his number or for an opportunity for him to ask, but none came
When he was done telling you about the curses, you gave him a brief pat on the arm, thanked him and went about your day
There was a soft smile on your face as you walked away, and the feeling of your hand still lingered on his arm
Gojo wanted to see you again, but he knew he might never
“Oh, hello Gojo.” Your voice pops up again in an unexpected place, the candy section of a local convenience store near the train station he’d just exited.
“Huh?” He turns, surprised to see you and surprised that you addressed him so casually. It was indeed you, the person he’d seen before and wanted to get to know better.
“Hm, is it not you? I don’t know anyone else that tall with white hair.” Scratching your cheek, you give him a once over.
“It is me.” He’s quick to answer before you apologize and walk away.
“Ha, knew it.” A sly grin comes on your face and Satoru grins in return, his chest tightening a little bit. Rocking on your heels, you gesture to the candy in front of you. “What’s your poison?”
“Everything.” Snorting, Satoru looks at the candy briefly, eyes scanning on all the ones he’s tried.
“Ouch, sounds like a serious sweet tooth.” Chuckling to yourself, you reach out and grab a bag of sour gummies. “These are my favorite, have you tried them?” He has and he kind of hates them, but he picks up a bag anyway and pretends to read it over.
“No, I haven’t. They’re your favorite, you say?” You nod and he holds them more securely in his hand. “Alright, I’ll get them. And this.” Snatching up a chocolate bar he knows he actually likes, Satoru walks with you to the checker and puts his items on top of yours. “I’ll pay.”
You don’t fight him on paying, thanking him with a smile and another pat on his arm. As you walk out of the shop, Satoru nearly puts his arm around your shoulder. It feels like the two of you are on a casual snack run together before going somewhere to watch a movie or something. Even though you’re a stranger, Satoru feels like you already belong together.
“Well, it was nice seeing you again.” You say, snapping him out of his delusion. “What are your plans for the day?” It’s a wonderful day in a suburb of Tokyo, near the place you’d first met. The sun is beaming but not too hot, there’s fluffy white clouds scattered around the sky and a light breeze.
“Nothing, honestly.” Shrugging his shoulder, Satoru looks up and down the street. Honestly, he did have something to do, he was supposed to meet Ijichi for a little meeting with a few other people. But if he was being honest, he’d gladly be late or even skip it entirely if it meant talking to you more.
“Really? Well if you’re into them, there’s a really good cafe just around the corner. I think you’d like it.” Oh shit, were you asking to hang out with him? Or was this more of a date? Watching you take out your phone, Satoru is confused when you pull up a GPS. “If you want, I’ll send you the address.”
Wait...what? Looking at you with clear confusion on his face, Satoru points down the street.
“Let’s go there together, since we’re already here.” Your eyes widen a fraction of an inch, but Satoru can easily see the miniscule way your face changes. Putting your phone away, you take a step down the street.
“Alright, let’s go.”
Once at the cafe, Satoru feels in heaven. It’s a space made for intimate conversations with closed off booths lining the walls and the rich dark colors decorating the space. It feels almost like a lounge instead of a cafe, but when he sees the menu and there’s no alcohol, he’s reminded of what it is.
“I like to get an earl gray and some macarons.” You tell him as you stand by the counter, looking up at the menu.
“I’m going to get that super chocolate cake.”
“That’s so much chocolate!” Chuckling, you walk up to the waiting cashier, wallet already out. “Go ahead and order, Gojo, I’ll pay.”
You don’t end up paying, actually. Gojo quickly plucked your wallet from your hands and put his money down instead. It wasn’t that he was trying to impress you by paying for everything, but he kind of was. He wanted you to know he was dependable.
Sliding into a booth, he can feel your knees knocking together, legs sliding between one another as you get comfortable. With the light from the window illuminating you, Satoru wished he could take a picture of you.
“Let me know how you like it.” Taking a sip of your tea, you watch him expectantly. Not one to disappoint an audience, Satoru takes a bite of the cake and lets out a pleased hum.
“(Y/N), this is great.” He practically moans, eagerly taking another bite.
“Knew you would like it.” You’ve got a silly smile spreading your cheeks wide, and Satoru lifts his hand up, wanting to pinch your cheek.
“You’ve got good taste.” He says instead, putting his elbow on the table to cover up his attempt at trying to touch your face. “I really like it here.”
You’re a very big reason why he likes it there.
First date
Gojo makes sure to get your number after that, he refuses to miss an opportunity like that
He can’t risk the possibility of just ‘maybe’ running into you again, he needs to insert himself into your life more than just chance run-ins
Gojo is a great texter, you’ll learn that quickly. He messages you back promptly, having riveting conversations with each other and sometimes calling on the phone as well
Whenever his phone goes off and it’s not you he automatically deflates, and has on more than one occasion answered the phone and opened up the conversation with ‘you’re not (Y/N), but I guess I have time to talk’ with a big dramatic sigh after
He asks you out the second he has a free day, just begging and hoping you’re also available
And with his oh so good luck, you are!
“How’d I know you’d pick an arcade?” You chuckle as you approach his waiting figure outside the building. Satoru is dressed nicely, but not too much. A smart bomber jacket with a plain black shirt underneath and jeans, not overdressed but more put together than his everyday look. And of course, his signature glasses.
“I have to show you I’m the best at everything.” Opening the door for you, he’s eager to get started on playing some games. “(Y/N), wander around and see what you wanna do first, I’ll exchange some money.”
“Okay.” You’ve given up on trying to pay for things when Satoru is around, he will adamantly refuse. Wandering around the arcade floor between the different machines, your eyes settle on a claw machine, a cute Pikachu plush just sitting there waiting for you.
“Gojo.” You’re bouncing on your heels watching him exchange money, and as soon as he collects all the coins you grab him by the hand and bring him to the claw machine. A light pink tinge paints his cheeks and he doesn’t look away from your hands connected together until you let go and tap on the glass. “Look at this plush! It needs me.”
“Here, try for it.” Putting a generous amount of coins in the machine, Satoru stands next to you and watches as you try to pick it up with the claw several times but fail. The plush doesn’t move at all with any of your attempts, making a frustrated whine leave the back of your throat.
“Pikachu, I love you.” You say, dramatically putting a hand on your heart and looking at the plush.
“Let me try, I’ll get it.” Confidently stepping up to the controller, Satoru smirks and taps the glass. “I’ll get the little guy real easy.”
“Mhmm, whatever you say.” Rolling your eyes, you stand close to him, eyes watching keenly as the claw moves. Grabbing onto the plush, Satoru manages to move it a good few inches towards the opening. “Satoru!” You gasp, grabbing onto his arm as he moves the plush again and it nearly falls in. His cheeks tinge a little when you say his first name.
“Told you.” He could feel himself getting distracted with the way both of your hands are now clinging to his arm, practically hugging it to your body. It only takes two more tries before the plush falls into the opening and the machine lets out a victory noise.
“Awesome!” You’re so excited that you jump a little bit in joy and actually do hug his arm tightly before letting go. Putting the plush in your hands, Satoru watches as you cutely squish it with your hands and smile.
“What other plush do you want? I’ll win them all.”
He did indeed win all the plushies and toys you wanted. He always let you try first, wanting to see if you could do it on your own, but more often than not he proved the title ‘best at everything’ wasn’t just for show.
Moving on from the claw games, you played the other arcade games around. Mario kart, random rhythm games and even scary shooters, Satoru played them all with you. Sometimes he let you win, other times he completely destroyed you. And when something scared you, he was always there to put an arm around your shoulder and protect you.
First confession
You spend far too many hours in the arcade, playing game after game and accumulating an obscene amount of claw game prizes
Gojo doesn’t joke around damnit!
He also forces Ijichi to come and drive you home lol and he sits in the backseat with you, holding your hand and playing with your fingers while you make friendly conversation with Ijichi
Carrying the bag full of plushies to your door, Gojo sets them in the threshold of your apartment before looking back at you
The open door is like a void just begging for Satoru to step into. The soft overhead light you’d flicked on was enough to illuminate a little more of your apartment, and from what Satoru could see it was nicely decorated and smelled like flowers.
“I had a lot of fun tonight.” Biting your lip, you look at him for just a moment before looking away again, rocking back and forth on your feet bashfully.
“I did too.” Satoru means it, he’s already planning the next date in his head and the best way to shove his responsibilities onto others so his schedule opens up. Grabbing your hand, he laces your fingers together and holds it up to his chest. “I hope I can see you again soon. I really like you (Y/N).”
“I like you a lot too.” You’re too embarrassed to say anything more, continuing to bite your lip and letting Satoru squeeze your hand. Slowly, the two of you shuffle closer to each other, and Satoru brushes the tips of his fingers along your face, subtly tilting it up so he can kiss you.
Just as he gets close enough to feel your breath, a sharp baby's cry sounds from the apartment next to yours and it makes you jump. There’s shuffling inside and then the door is thrown open and a tired looking man in old sweats comes running out.
“Oh, hi (Y/N)!”
“Hi Mr. Yoo. What’re you doing out?” Turning to him, you try to play off the fact that you were just caught almost kissing in front of your door.
“I realized we’re all out of diapers! I have to go get some stat.” He barely pays Satoru any attention, quickly rushing off with a brief goodbye.
Now the moment had been ruined, you were too far now and you’d pulled your hands away when the door was opened. Stepping into your apartment, you give a lingering look at Satoru’s lips before meeting his eyes.
“Text me when you get home.” You say, and with a soft goodbye you close the door and Satoru leaves.
First kiss
Getting blue balled by a baby was definitely not in Gojos five year plan
He literally can’t wait until you see each other again, he’s obsessing about kissing you
Applies lip balm like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, the man would rather swallow a jean jacket than have you kiss dry lips
Any amount of time apart from you is painful and it’s only made worse when his schedule becomes full, too tightly packed to move anything around
He’s keeping up with you through text and calls but it’s not enough for him, and he lets you know almost every time you call that he wants to be with you, be able to physically touch you and see you
When there’s a little festival in Tokyo and Nobara and Itadori are begging to go, Gojo uses it as a chance to see you again
“Hi everyone!” You’re very excited to meet Satoru’s students. He hadn’t told you he was a teacher, all he said was he exorcised curses.
“Hi!” Itadori is excited to meet you, Nobara is excited to see who’s been taking up all of her teacher's time and Fushiguro is just there, curious about you but too aloof to ask any questions.
“So I take it Satoru teaches you guys how to get rid of those curses and stuff, huh?” Your question floored them, and even Fushiguro was looking at you with wide eyes.
“(Y/N) can see curses.” Satoru steps in, putting an arm around your shoulders.
“Yeah, I guess I can see a little bit of cursed energy.” Nobara mutters. Truthfully, they were all too busy asking you questions and looking at how pretty you were to notice cursed energy.
“You guys are really brave! Some of those curses are really scary.” Shivering as you recall one you’d seen recently(and texted Satoru about), you point toward the festival stalls. “But you guys probably don’t wanna talk about work, huh? Let’s go get some food, I’ll pay.”
“Sorry (Y/N), we’re under strict orders not to accept your money.” Making an X with his arms, he and Nobara shook their heads.
“Satoru!” Slapping his chest playfully, you start to walk through the festival. “Let me pay for something, you’re gonna go broke at this rate!”
“Nope, not happening.” Keeping you close to him, Satoru makes sure you don’t pay for a single thing. He’d purposefully brought a lot of cash to this knowing that the kids would go absolutely crazy - and that he wanted to spoil you some more to make up for his absence.
As the night progresses, the students get more and more distant. Satoru had briefed them on the way that it was purely a date between you and him and that they were just tagging along and not to stick around for too long.
“This snow ice is so good!” At a more secluded spot at the festival, you and Satoru find a bench to sit at and enjoy the frozen treat he’d bought.
“Feed me.” Opening his mouth, Satoru sticks his tongue out obnoxiously while waiting for you.
“You’re gonna drool on yourself.” You laugh, quickly scooping some up and putting it in his mouth. Holding your hand, Satoru lets the ice fully dissolve before pulling the spoon out. He wants to make a teasing sexual comment, but a loud boom sounds in the sky before he can.
“Fireworks.” He whispers, looking up at the sky as it’s illuminated with bright flashes of light. You let out a noise in awe of the display, and Satoru is suddenly staring right at you. Looking at the way your eyes reflect the light, he can’t stop himself from leaning forward.
“Sa-” Turning your head at the same time he’s about to kiss your cheek, your lips connect. You gasp, and if Satoru hadn’t also been holding onto the snow ice it would have fallen from your hand.
He doesn’t miss an opportunity though, pressing firmly on your lips and tilting his head a little. Your eyes flutter closed, and you pull away for a brief moment to lick your lips before going back in. The sound of fireworks continue to boom above you, continuing to flash light across your closed eyes. It all adds to the experience of kissing Satoru.
“You taste so sweet.” He says when you pull away to breathe, keeping his face close enough that he can rub his nose against yours.
“Shut up.” Satoru can practically feel the heat radiating off your face and it makes him chuckle. Giving you another kiss, he pulls away when the fireworks stop going off. The smile you have on your face warms his heart, his cheeks a light red color to show for it.
“Looks like we’ll need more ice.” Holding up the melting treat, a little pout settles on your lips and Satoru audibly coos.
“I’ll be right back.” Shooting up from the bench, he nearly runs to the stall, already hurting from being apart and eager to get back to you.
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ivy-loves-chocolate ¡ 3 years ago
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Note: this was a commission I got from a supporter on ko-fi. I hope that you’ll read it with the same enjoyment I had while writing it. If you want to commission or support me check the pinned post or the hyperlink, you’ll find all the details there. If you have questions, my DM is open 🤗. Also, your comments are always welcomed.
Promt: Wesker forgets about the reader’s birthday.
Pairing: Wesker x F!Reader
Word count: 2K
Type: fluff.
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Wesker placed the samples with care on the table, starting his day as usual. He’s been spending his last few years, stuck in the lab researching all over again in order to achieve the wanted results. Since Uroborus is a high importance plan, he’s very meticulous about his schedule, respecting every minute precisely. Not a minute early, not a minute late. The only thing that he tries to put outside his schedule is you because he doesn’t like limiting the time he spends with his sweetheart. He cares so much about you that over the years he sees you as his equal, so he plans to inject you with the progenitor virus, a weaker strand because he can’t risk killing you. Because of this, he wants to do it on a special day, but the many opportunities that arrived didn’t fit in his schedule. The greatest gift he ever received was the power he got after breaking the confines of humanity, so he wants you to experience the same joy. Wesker kept thinking about it but he would get distracted by his work, so his present would always be in the planning stage. He doesn’t want to do it suddenly, he wants to introduce the idea slowly to you because he respects your boundaries.
Once you earned his respect, Wesker can be a very carrying partner, human even. He knows every little detail about his sweetheart, from her birthday to what she last ate. It can seem creepy when you put it like this, but this is nothing more than a lover who deeply cares about his partner and seeks to make her happy. Wesker is not the greatest at showing it though because of his work life. He has little to no time to show his affection. He still shows you that he is there for you, but not as much as he wants, making him more frustrated. Sometimes when he comes home from work he is so tired he barely sees you, let alone talk with you. He either collapses on the couch or bed and falls asleep as you talk with him because he is just too exhausted to carry the conversation. This doesn’t sit right with him because he gives all of his attention and energy to his work and doesn’t have any left for the only person that matters to him, making him wonder if it’s all worth it.
The relationship didn’t have a great start, since you expected Albert to be with you at least 8 hours a day but you’re lucky if you catch him once a week. He’s not the type to express himself and constantly expects others to read his mind, so you two would end up fighting. You have mistaken the lack of presence as rudeness and indifference, basing your reasoning on all the rumors you heard until you realized they were all stupid. Wesker proved to be the contrary, talking so nicely to you and not belittling you at all even if you piss him off. The amount of respect this man offered you even from the beginning is astonishing. He was so transparent with you and with all he does and he had so much patience until you understood. He was just a working man with probably burnout syndrome, so you took the responsibility to take care of him.
His phone buzzed since he started his work. Calls, messages, idiots without brains, as he calls them, needed help doing their job. When he had enough he picked up his phone and started to scroll down through notifications. Some of these people make him curse like a sailor, especially the one who texted him the most. As useful as Excella is in helping with his projects, as annoying she can be. Hundreds of messages and calls, some related to work some not. A particular question caught his attention.
“Do you think y/n would like this?” A picture of a purse was attached. Excella can’t stand you for obvious reasons, but out of respect for Albert, she tries to be friends with you. Still, why would Excella buy something for you out of the blue?
“Is something special today?” He thought.
The horrifying grimace when the realization hit cannot be described. Today is indeed a special day, your birthday. To be honest, he doesn’t care about birthdays. He despises them because they are a reminder of our mortality, but he knows how much you care about such occasions. Every year you got him something even if he insisted not to buy anything for him. Seeing you care and how much you enjoy receiving gifts he changed his mindset. Usually, he would give you something common, just as others would, but then he began to put more effort until there wasn’t anything material in this world to give. That’s how the progenitor virus gift arises in his head. However, he’s been so caught up with his research on Uroborus that he completely forgot to make the preparations. You don’t feel the days pass when you’re stuck in a lab all the time. He puts the phone aside, grabs his coat, and rushes out of the building ignoring the people that are trying to talk with him. If not the virus, he will have to find something common.
He’s not a fan of last minutes gifts but he has no choice. The guilt crushed him further as he remember he hasn’t talked with you all day. The ride to the jewels store felt like ages, even if it was relatively close. Luck was on his side since he found the store open.
None of the jewelry in front of him caught his attention because it wasn’t something he hopes of giving you. He already buried you in gold. You have the finest, unique, and expensive jewels in the world. He wouldn’t have been injected you in a lab of course. He wanted a special place for your rebirth. All of his ideas were put on paper, but probably got lost in the pile of reports. All he wanted was to see you smile on the most important day of your life, perhaps looking at him with the same eyes as his. He wanted to make you feel as you were the center of his universe, his queen, but he failed miserably. Maybe if he had gotten any outstanding results today he wouldn’t be so upset, but it was just another ordinary day. The lady tried talking with him but he was lost in his thoughts. Knowing it’s late and that you’re waiting for him, he bought a pearl necklace and left in hurry. On his way home he tried thinking of what to say, what excuse would be the best but he concluded that all of them were outdated.
Before opening the door, he hid the small package in the inner pocket of his coat. That lady was in hurry to close the store and didn't want to wrap the necklace if gift wrap. Wesker will remember that.
“I’m home!” He shouted once he entered. He may screw up, but he is not a man who runs away from conflict or a man who doesn’t own his mistakes.
“I thought you’d spend the night in your lab.” She said while giving him a peck on his cheek. “You need a vacation dear, you’ll be worn out before your time”
You were so carrying with him, so kind, but he couldn’t enjoy it. He didn’t deserve your kindness.
“There is something I need to tell you.”
“About?” You were starting to get worried. He left in hurry this morning and you didn’t hear anything from him all day. Excella told you briefly about him, but she talked more about the purse she bought for you which was more for her taste, not yours. Judging by his face you realized he had something on his mind, but you would never think it was because he forgot about your birthday. You expected him to talk about an outbreak rather than your forgotten birthday. To your surprise, he started apologizing.
“I was so caught up in my work I-“ he considers apologies a waste of time since we could do better things with our mortality and limited time, but for a reason, humans care about these.
“It’s alright my love.” You caress his face as a reassuring sign. “I understand.” You’re not upset at him. He genuinely cares about you and you can’t judge him, not after all the good things he has done for you. And besides, you know he doesn’t fully mean it, but you appreciate that he still does it for the sake of your feelings.
You began to caress his cheeks, to place small kisses all over his face. You see him rarely so you make sure to show him how much you love him as well. You hug him and he instantly hugged you back. After a while, you broke the hug and lead him to the couch so you can talk about each other’s day. He’s thankful you both moved on.
Eventually, you two got more comfortable. You let all your weight fall over his body as his strong arms were wrapped around your torso. His big hands were caressing your back while you found your peace in that small, almost suffocating, clasp. You almost fell asleep when a gentle squeeze woke you.
“I almost forgot.” He said, almost whispering, before handing you your gift. “It’s not what I had planned, but I hope you’ll find it enjoyable.”
Hazily, you took the small box Albert handled to you. It was a normal, jewelry box with the logo of the store on it. Inside there was a beautiful, shiny pearl necklace. Your delicate fingers touched the pearls with care, feeling their gritty texture and small bumps here and there. It weighs heavy in your hands. You fell in love instantly with the accessory. Seeing how happy you are, Albert offered to put it at your neck. Its elegance enhanced your natural beauty. It looks like it was made solely for you, like an extension of your body.
“I bet it was a lot.” You said with a somehow sorrow in your voice. You don’t want Albert to spend heavy money on you, because it’s his presence that you enjoy and value the most.
“Don’t worry about it, I like spending money on you.” And it was true, he loves dressing you in the most expensive clothing to flatter your body. You’re a goddess to him. Not to mention it strokes his ego to know that he’s able to provide such beautiful things to you. “At least this is what I can do.”
“And it’s perfect this way.” You can see him relax a little.
“I’ll make it up to you, I just need some time.” Time, mortality, death. Once again he was reminded of his plan that was supposed to fix humanity's greatest flaw, and his expression suddenly changed. That didn’t get past Y/N’s attention.
“Albert sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, some problems I need to solve.”
“Are they urgent?”
“Yes, very.”
“I’m sure they can wait until tomorrow.”
He scanned your body carefully. You weren’t getting any younger. Time left its mark on you. Not in an unpleasant way, but still noticeable.
“There something I need to tell you.” He said while sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you how you admire your new necklace. In the lights of the vanity mirror the pearls shine brighter, being more appealing than before making it impossible to take your eyes off them.
“What is it?” You said while gazing at your own reflection.
He choose his words carefully, but no matter how he put them, it could scare you. It’s not the time or the place. He doesn’t want to ruin your happiness. His actual surprise might not sit well with you, but it’s not your choice after all. If he considers it the best option for you he will do it regardless of your opinion. Still, this day came out better than he expected.
“Maybe tomorrow.”
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Tags: @xx-sectumsempra-xx @residentzero2028 @heisentitties (dm if you wanna be in the tag list)
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airplanned ¡ 4 years ago
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All the Trashy Novels Part 29
It’s a long one, because it’s the smutty climax.
Part 1...Part 28
***
Link pulled his horse to the side of the road as they were riding past the wetlands, right before the fork away from Zora's Domain.  She stopped and waited impatiently as he crouched down in the tall grass and snuck towards the water.  What was he doing?  It was impossible to tell with him.
A minute later, he shouted, "Ha!" and stood up with his hands cupped together.  He came up to her horse, lifted his hands for her to see, and uncupped them.  Inside was a dragonfly.
"Oh!"  She slipped off her horse to bow her head over the cave of his hands and peer inside.  When it launched itself upward, she meeped and jumped back, laughing and pressing a hand to her chest as it darted off.  At some point she had taken hold of Link's wrist.
He smiled at her and shifted, twisting their hands until hers was locked in his, and then pulling her off the road and towards the water.  He caught her another dragonfly, and she caught him a frog, explaining its medicinal properties and how one day she would use it to run experiments on him.
"You're already running experiments on me," he said.
"No.  You are assisting as I run experiments on myself."
"What experiments will you run first?"
"I need more data points.  Duration and intensity of the glowing.  I need a survey of the other factors that may be involved before devising a more strenuous set of experiments."
His mouth quirked, as if he were trying not to laugh at her.
She shoved him into the shallow water.  
A second later, he'd grabbed her around the middle and pulled her down with him, and splashing and spluttering, she'd had to fight her way to sitting.  He grinned at her, and she covered his face with her hand.  He took the opportunity to lick her palm, and she shrieked and ranted about how gross he was all the way to the citadel.
There they stopped for the night: one last night sleeping in a bed in exchange for playing princess as the general gave a guided tour and then hosted them at dinner.  But the tour turned out to be much more interesting than she'd expected.  A team of Sheikah had brought in a handful of guardians with the intention of adding them to the citadel's defenses.  They were a bit behind those from the Royal Tech Lab, and had to be aimed manually, but they still outstripped the cannons.  The general and the Sheikah soaked up every word she said, and soon she was gesturing wildly with her arm half inside a guardian, her face streaked with grease.
"The general's in love with you," Link whispered as he walked her to her room.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Everyone here's in love with you."
"No, they're not.  They're just too far removed from the castle and haven't heard the terrible gossip about me yet."
"Okay, but if you ever need a fake Akkalan boyfriend, I bet he'd volunteer."
"I do not require a fake Akkalan boyfriend."  She paused at her door.  "How is your fake townie girlfriend?"
"We broke up."
"Oh?"
"She didn't like that I was leaving town for so long.  And she didn't like that I was going with you.  She's very jealous of you."
"Well," Zelda said.  "She should be.  Everyone here is in love with me."
He nodded.
"Everyone at the castle will be disappointed."
"They'll get over it."
"What will you do the next time you get a bite mark on your neck?"
He lifted his eyebrows.
She lifted hers back.  Then she closed the doors behind her and went to bed, smirking.
They reached the Spring of Power late the next day.  As Link set up camp, Zelda ducked away to see the Goddess statue.  She didn't change into her prayer dress or step into the water.  She couldn't sort what she wanted into words that might reach the Goddess.  She was out of practice praying.  Instead, she bowed her head and clenched her hands before her, gathered all the worry and hope and pleading that tightened in her chest and mentally projected it into the heavens, hoping the Goddess would hear her.
Link gave her a cautious look as she returned.  She realized that she usually left her prayers feeling lost and worthless and small.  Link must have noticed.  He must be expecting more of the same.  But this time felt different.  It wasn't a gladness that she'd heard others describe, but maybe the hope and determination that had pushed her on for the past few days was bolstered by the Goddess.  Then again, maybe it was the absence of a sense of defeat.  She gave Link as honest of a smile a she could as she accepted the bowl he passed to her.
"I'm alright," she said.  "I'm going to figure this out."
"I know you will."  He said it so easily that it disarmed her. 
Because of the depression in the ground, the sun seemed to set earlier than usual.  They ate in silence, and she pretended the warmth on her face was from the fire. 
She snuck a few looks at him--his posture easy, the planes of his face lit orange in the light.  He was handsome.  She'd never thought about him that way before.
She blinked, handed back her bowl, and retreated to her tent.
She arranged everything to her liking. She had a comfortable bed roll and a number of blankets fit for a princess.  She had a soft glowing lantern and a pocket watch and the Sheikah Slate and a journal with a pencil.  She made sure the pencil was sharpened.  She changed into a shirt with fine embroidery around the collar and a softness that belayed wealth, but it was also far too big for her, fitting a bit like a sack that barely covered her rear.  She didn't wear anything else.
She was suddenly overwhelmed with nerves.  But she took a shaky breath and stuck her head out of her tent.  "I would like to run an experiment.  If--if you have a moment."
He looked up from the fire, his interest piqued, and she ducked back into her tent before he could see how badly she was blushing.  Once in her tent, she put on as much bluster as she could to hide her nerves, ordering him to remove his boots and his sword and his shirt.  She thought about asking him to remove his pants, but that seemed a bit pushy.  Maybe she needed to be pushy?  "And your pants," she said.  "But your undergarments can remain."
She then had him lie on his side on her mat.  "You will observe and take notes," she explained, showing him were the pocket watch and journal were.  She tucked her hair behind her ears, lay down facing him, and hooked her leg over his hip.
He looked mildly surprised, but went along with it.  And that was weird, right?  This was weird.  She was taking advantage of how he couldn't deny her.  She was royalty and possibly the key to saving everything he knew from destruction.  Maybe should should find a way to--
"You're over-thinking it," he whispered.  He'd made himself comfortable, resting his head on his arm and a hand on the small of her back.
She huffed.  Then she closed her eyes and worked her hand down her body.
"Want me to help?"
"I don't want you to be too distracted to record your observations."
"Right.  Good.  Because this isn't distracting at all."
She pinched him with her free hand, and he laughed.  It was soft and low and she could feel his breath against her face.  It did more to arouse her than her own hand, which slid between her legs.
His hand moved to her bare hip, and once he did, she could feel how much she moved against him, how much her hips rocked.  He didn't try to control her rhythm or hold her still, and she found her movements growing even more animated as the pleasure built around her.  She bit her lip and breathed.  
His voice was soft like his laugh when he murmured, "What are you thinking about?"
"What you would say if you were talking to me."
"What would I say?"
"'That's it, Zelda. That's so good.'"
Not missing a beat, he said, "You're so good, Zelda.  The way you move, the way your whole body moves.  You're so emphatic.  In everything you do.  Your whole body moves when you talk.  And now, Goddess look at you, the way your shoulders move and your back arches."
Her shoulders rolled even more, her breath coming quick.
"Call me something sweet," she said.  In her head, he called her darling, and it wasn't quite right.  She always stumbled over it.  She couldn't hear it in his voice.
He leaned in to kiss under her ear, sending a shudder down her spine.  He whispered, "You're my peach."
She gasped, her hand picking up speed, a spike of pleasure rocking through her.    His hands wandered inside her shirt, down her leg.  Dizziness crept in around her edges.
"That's it.  That's it.  Let go.  I've got you."
He had her.  He would catch her when she fell.
"Look at me."
She tried twice to blink open her eyes, and when she finally managed, he was there, a heat in his eyes and adoration on his face.  The rhythm of her hand stuttered, and then his fingers had replaced hers, picking up the rhythm she'd set as he pulled her fingers into his mouth.  It all happened so fast that she thrust her fingers against his tongue a few times before realizing.  His eyes darkened and then rolled as he moaned and sucked greedily at her fingers.  The movements of his hand matched her own, except steady and sure when she faltered, when her body jerked, and her breath caught and caught and caught.  Link would catch her.  She threw her head back and grinned, riding every wave, letting herself fall.  She grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss as she burned and burned and burned, still smiling against his mouth.
"Zelda?"
She blinked dreamily up at him, and there was a click as he snapped her picture with the slate.  He turned it around to show it to her. 
She was glowing.  Her whole body surrounded by a halo, her skin golden as if she had become the sun.  The picture smiled dreamily back at her.
"You've been glowing for two minutes and fifteen seconds and counting."
"You timed it?"
"Of course."
She beamed at him, and she could see from her hands on the slate that she was glowing more brightly.  Beams of sunlight radiated off her.  
She reached for Link's cheek and closed her eyes and reveled in the warmth in her chest, the shape of it, the pressure of it.  It was like...happiness?  A warmth of affection that had been there for a while, but had never before tapped into the power of her soul.  She hadn't let it.  She'd held it at bay.  She had pushed it aside to berate herself and turn her insecurities outward.  She'd thought the Goddess was spiteful, but the Goddess was love, and she rewarded those who loved.  To protect her country, she first needed to love it.
"Link?"
"Yeah?" He brushed hair from her face.
"I don't hate you."
"You sure?  That was a little fun."
"Only a little?"
"This is better."
She laughed and dragged him in to kiss her as she glowed.
***
Part 30
158 notes ¡ View notes
writtenvisionary ¡ 3 years ago
Text
please don’t hurt me.
wrote for the prompt “start a story with ‘please don’t hurt me’” sent in by an anon to @mlwritersguild!
Summary: Tom says something that strikes Adrien the wrong way. Sabine goes into mama bear mode.
tw - mentions of abuse, small panic attack
Read on Ao3
“Please don’t hurt me.”
Sabine Cheng stares, mouth agape, at her daughter’s boyfriend. Her heart clenches at the tremble in his voice; the quiver of his bottom lip; the shakiness of his hands. The words he had just uttered came at an unexpected time and she’s now realizing that there’s something very wrong.
Adrien had been coming to the bakery for weeks now, both to see his girlfriend and to learn the skill of baking. He never explicitly said it, but he left hints that father had been controlling his meals. Already having a daughter with a fast metabolism, she knew that it was important for teenagers to eat well and often; it’s imperative for their health. This is why she encouraged him to join their family dinners almost every night, and Tom had invited him to learn how to bake.
Getting out of his father’s grip was hard, she was aware. He had to lie consistently, both to his bodyguard and his father’s assistant, in order to have dinner with his girlfriend and her parents.
She notices how jumpy and skittish he can be sometimes. This behavior only ever increases around Tom, and she wants to believe it’s because he’s a big, burley man with a drive to protect his only daughter, but she knows it has to do with his father.
(But to be honest, she forgets these things sometimes.)
Like tonight, they had been rolling the dough for a new batch of bread and joking around, when Tom said something that struck a nerve.
He had said, “Don’t disappoint me, son.”
Tom meant it jokingly, as their previous conversation had been about how Adrien might want to pursue a degree in culinary arts when he goes to university, and he fully supports this decision.
Both parents realized too late that Adrien isn’t used to hearing jokes from the adults around him. Words like that are only said in a negative connotation around him, so they really should have known better.
Adrien had gone pale, pausing his kneading of dough, and his eyes lowered to the ground. She watched in growing concern as he gulped and clenched his fists tightly for a short moment.
After sparing a glance to her husband, she took a tentative step over to Adrien. She placed a hand on his shoulder and he violently flinched away from her touch. Her heart dropped.
“Honey, he didn’t mean it like that…”
Her attempts at consoling him fell flat, because he didn’t seem to hear her. His glazing eyes stared past her at a blank spot on the wall. His breath became shallow, and he brought his arms up to wrap around his chest as a form of security.
“Adrien, I—“
Tom stops short as the young boy in front of him squeezes his eyes tight and takes a step backwards.
“Please don’t hurt me.”
It was a feeble request, his voice shaking with every word.
“Adrien, honey, no one is going to hurt you,” she says softly, holding one of her palms up to show that she has no intentions of putting it near him.
He still doesn’t open his eyes, instead his breath quickens even more. Tom bites his lip as he leans towards his wife, then whispers, “He’s having a panic attack. I’ll go get Marinette and some water for him.”
As a silent thanks, Sabine places a hand on his large forearm, and sends him a sad smile. He walks away, leaving her with a panicking Adrien.
She’s not sure what to do; Marinette had never told her that Adrien experienced bad anxiety. Her daughter is keeping a lot of secrets from her (which she is frustrated about, because she should know certain things as her mother; but also, she understands that Marinette is a teenager and she’s happy to respect her boundaries), but Sabine wishes that this was something she had told her. That way she might be able to help.
The sound of footsteps trampling down the stairs makes her whip her head around, seeing Marinette running hurriedly towards Adrien.
She slows, letting out a slow breath as she takes in the situation.
“Kitty, hey, hey, hey…” she says loudly, but not loud enough to where it startles him. “I’m here. You’re panicking. Kitty, can I touch you?”
Subconsciously, Sabine wonders where the nickname ‘kitty’ came from, but that’s not something to worry about right now.
Adrien, his breathing still unchanged, manages to crack open his eyes into slits. They dance around the room wearily, before landing on Marinette. Sabine swears she can see his fists uncurl slightly.
“Hi, kitten. Could I hold your hand?”
It takes a minute for him to acknowledge that she had asked a question, but then he just barely nods. Marinette takes this opportunity to move closer, cautiously, and slips her hand into his’. She meets his eyes.
“Okay. I want you to tell me five things you can see right now. Anything.”
His lip quivers and he lets out a small whimper, before blinking out a slew of tears.
“Uh. You.”
Sabine is astonished at how Marinette is able to stay calm in this situation. Her smile to him is forced, but comforting, and the mother can’t shake the evidence that she’s done this before.
“Amazing,” she hears Marinette say. “What else?”
Adrien sniffs, shifting his eyes to the wall behind the girl in front of him. “Th-that poster.”
“You’re doing great, kitty. Three more.”
Tom joins Sabine, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his side. She exhales at the contact, watching as Adrien rattles off item after item, feel after feel, sound after sound, smell after smell, and can’t help but wonder how often her daughter has helped bring him down from a panic attack.
Another question she has is, what prompted this? She knows that he’s not used to hearing jokes told in that manner, but that’s not enough to send someone into a spiral. It was his reaction to the specific words said to him.
There's one thing she can figure out right away; Mr. Agreste calls Adrien ‘son’; that may have reminded him of the man. Adrien is a people pleaser; just the mere thought of disappointing someone could cause him to spiral.
Although, even with this information, she still feels like there’s a part of the puzzle missing. She replays the scene in her head over and over again until she can’t take it anymore, and nothing.
Words cannot describe how dumb she feels when Marinette talks to them, once Adrien is asleep in her room.
“His father is, cut and dry, mentally and physically abusive.”
Marinette speaks with such vindictiveness that it takes Sabine aback for a moment.
“Abusive? I know he’s a bit overprotective, honey, but—“
“Mom.”
Marinette’s tone makes Sabine stop in her tracks.
“He gaslights him constantly, telling him that he needs to be perfect and that if not, he’s a disappointment. That’s why your words struck something in him, dad. And Gabriel locks him in his room, doesn’t let him see his friends for weeks, and when Adrien can finally hang out with us, it’s only for an hour. He doesn’t join him for dinner — Adrien has to set a damn appointment to get this luxury — and hugs from him are rare. He’s neglectful and says things that hurt, and….”
Sabine’s eyes are wide in shock hearing everything. She’s sure that’s it, but when her daughter trails off, her fear only grows.
“What, sweetie?”
“…He hit him the other day.”
“What?”
It wasn’t her that spoke, but Tom. She glanced over to see him fuming. His eyebrows are narrowed and jaw is clenched. She can feel anger surging in her chest, as well.
Marinette shifts on her feet, seemingly uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, and nods.
“I don’t know exactly what happened, but I met him for pa— for a picnic in the park, and his shirt rode up. A huge bruise was on his abdomen.”
Sabine felt that she was telling a white lie there, but there are more important topics at hand.
“Has Gabriel ever hit him before?” She asks, worried for the boy she considers a son.
Marinette shrugs, “Adrien hasn’t admitted it, but I suspect that he has. Its not the first time I’ve seen him with bruises. They’re in different places all the time, though, so I just passed it off as clumsiness… but…”
“But you’re clumsier than him and come home with less bruises,” Tom breathes, finally pulling his hands away from his face and looking at his daughter, who nods.
“Gabriel doesn’t even talk to him unless he does something to disturb the appearance of his brand and reputation. But when he ‘acts out,’ Adrien gets more than enough attention from him; the wrong kind.”
Tom gulps.
“Right. And who really knows what goes on behind closed doors?”
The room falls into a tense silence.
“I understand that you were just messing around, dad. It’s just… when those words are something he hears almost every day, he’s going to take it seriously. Especially when he was raised to be perfect, and any little mistake will get him punished.
“It’s a reflex. He trusts you, dad, but years of trauma build up.”
Marinette’s explanation helps the older couple understand the situation a bit better. Tom suddenly feels extremely guilty. He holds his head in his hands, grumbling to himself. Sabine rubs his leg, keeping her attention on Marinette.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner, Marinette?”
“I wanted to, and I was getting there. Adrien just…” she sighs. “He was afraid that things would get worse if someone found out.”
“Well, things will get worse before they get better…”
She looks to the ground. “I know. And he’s already been suffering so much that I…”
Marinette trails off, feeling her eyes well up with tears. Instead of fighting them, she lets them fall.
Sabine frowns, taking everything that’s been said into consideration.
“Do you have any proof of the bruises?”
Tom perks up, “Yes! If we collect evidence against his father, there’s a better chance to get him out of there.”
“I snuck a few pictures here and there. I wish I had a video, though…”
Sabine raises an eyebrow, “The mansion’s security cameras?”
She watches her daughter’s eyes light up, then dim, and then light up again. There’s a flash of determination in them, as well, and she can’t help but wonder what she’s planning.
“You’re right,” is all she says, before her optimistic facade turns sour.
“But I don’t know how I’ll get to them without being caught.”
The room falls silent for a minute as they all think about the best course of action.
Tom coughs, catching his wife and daughter’s attention. He shrugs.
“Is there anyone at that house Adrien can trust?”
“Umm. The only person I can think of is his bodyguard, even though we’ve run from him plenty of times,” Marinette says. “He’s pretty quiet, though, so I don’t know if he agrees with Gabriel’s parenting or not. I’ll ask Adrien, though.”
“I’d say it’s worth a shot. Every encounter with that man has been lovely. I’d like to think he’s still working there just for Adrien,” Tom says.
Sabine nods, letting her mind wander. She can’t help but think of every time Adrien has faked a smile, rubbed his arms, rocked back and forth on his feet… Every time he’s had dark circles under his eyes and the ghost of tear streaks on his cheeks... She’s starting to realize that those were all tells, and she should’ve noticed sooner. She feels guiltier than ever.
“Mom?”
Marinette’s voice pulls her away from her thoughts. She blinks, feeling tears gather in her eyes.
When had I started to tear up?
“Sorry, sorry! Let’s, uh—“ she pauses, not knowing what to say, before choosing her next words. “Let’s have him sleep here for the night and see what we can do tomorrow?”
Tom nods beside her.
“Yeah. It might be too soon to worry about all of this right now. Adrien will want to know that we know, too.”
Marinette sighs, “You’re right. He’s not going to be that happy about it. I mean, it took a while for him to understand that the way his father treats him isn’t right, but he’s still working out that concept with you guys. Getting the police involved will just overwhelm him more.”
“True,” Sabine agrees, “but I will not let him stay at that house any longer if that’s what he’s dealing with. No kid should ever go through that.”
She’s serious. No matter what it takes, she will make sure that no one hurts Adrien ever again. Especially not Gabriel Agreste.
61 notes ¡ View notes
justreadingfics ¡ 4 years ago
Text
It’s a Deal -Ch. 13
Chapter Summary: Old memories come back to you. 
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 3k
Warnings: angsty internal thoughts, no Bucky this chapter.  
A/N: Here it is. I’m sorry I ended up not reblogging all the comments on last chapter before I post this one, but I’ve read and cherish them all, please don’t doubt that. Thank you, incredible Suz, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer you’re a Queen around here. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.
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You bet that if you told anyone about the scene playing out in your apartment right now, people would scoff their asses off at your face: Saturday afternoon, your living room, the Leader of the Avengers Tech Team, the Director of SHIELD – probably the most powerful organization in the world- and one of the scariest, if not the scariest spy to ever walk on earth. All three of you sitting on your carpet, barefeet, wearing tops and tiny shorts due the heat brought by the bright sun slipping through your windows. A big bowl of popcorn in the center and innumerous chocolate bars everywhere. 
Those afternoons with the three of you are a rare event. First, you had your relationship with Eddie to blame, but now it’s mainly due to your work schedules that almost never are in sync, but whenever there’s an opportunity, there you are.
Your phone's message alerts ringing together bursts into the conversation and the three of you grab your devices simultaneously. You were dreading to see what it was, sure it was something from work, but a huge smile widens in your lips at what you see on your screen.
“Jesus…” Nat says, while, laughing, you three turn the screens to one another, confirming you have received the same message. “Bucky’s a lost cause with that cat. That’s the millionth picture I received of her this week. And she’s always doing something extremely exciting like… sleeping.” She rolls her eyes.
“But we have to admit that little asshole is kinda cute,” Sharon comments looking back at her screen and the picture of the, indeed, sleeping cat.
“She is, right?” You agree, with a huge smile on your face. You and Alpine may have had a somewhat rough start, but you can’t help but admit she’s an adorable little jerk who’s just very protective of her human.
“By the way,” Natasha smirks at you, putting her phone back on her pocket, “I had no idea that was what he meant when he said he would romance the shit out of you.”
“It suits perfectly, though,” Sharon comments, shaking her head and laughing with her.
“It does. Shame on me, I should’ve known better.” Nat agrees.  
“He said that?” You ask with peaked interest you try to disguise in the quietness of your tone while you bite the corner of your lips.
The curiosity in the information doesn’t go unnoticed by them, who just snicker at each other. You decide to ignore that.
“The dude is smitten, Y/N, wake the fuck up.” Natasha not so gently throws a popcorn right on your face.
“Hey,” you whine.
“And so is she, giving that little dreamy look on her face. Wake the fuck up indeed.” Sharon sides with Nat with a huff.
“I’ve created two monsters…” Nat comments like you weren’t even in the room, referring to the fact she is the one who brought you two together.
“It’s not like that…” You barge in their little interaction, catching their attention, before folding your legs up and holding your knees, “I mean… yeah, of course… I can’t help having feelings for Bucky, I mean… he’s…” you pause, searching for the right words to describe him, “He’s Bucky.” You shrug… a small smile curling your lips, “He’s Bucky…” you repeat with a sigh while your gaze wanders away…
It’s just you don’t really need anything else to justify why it’s so inevitable to grow feelings for him and your friends catch on to what you mean, because when you look back at them, they both have stupid and dreamily little looks at you… ones that don’t fit to a couple of spies. 
You clear your throat, letting your initial line of thoughts come back to you, “But it’s not that simple… There’s…’ you falter.
“There’s what?” Nat insists, in a kind way.
But “Who” was the more proper pronoun.
“Eddie…” You whisper.
“Argh…” Sharon groans, tilting her face to her side before, looking back at you, “What about Eddie?”
It was just yesterday that you had your little “encounter” with Bucky. You know it was no coincidence he was there, the little shit must’ve tracked you down… but you couldn’t make yourself care about that when it was so amazing… incredible… Not only the fact that he went down on you in such a shameless way and gave you a mind-blowing orgasm, like he always does. It was also the way he spoke to you…his attitude… not really imposing himself… encouraging you to have fun with your friends… no sign of jealousy. It made you feel special and free and… loved. Really loved for who you are and not for who you make yourself to be to please and that is a tremendously powerful feeling.
Still… you have mixed feelings about it all and Eddie is the reason. Being there with him felt familiar and comfortable, but, in some way different… better than before. It makes you think that he really is engaged into finding not just a way back to you, but also a way to make your relationship work and it certainly weighs over your heart.
You tell your friends all of that.
“Did Eddie notice anything?” Nat asks, reaching over for some popcorn.
“I don’t know,” you answer, “He wasn’t at the table when I returned, but he came back shortly, my friends were still talking about it, but we changed to subject once we saw him. The girls didn’t comment anything again, and he acted normal… I guess he didn’t.” You shrug, starting to bite on your nails.
There’s an annoying little feeling rising in you since the night before and, thinking over it, you recognize it as guilt. Guilt for doing that with Bucky while Eddie was there in Club, guilt for not being bothered by Bucky’s presence, while, at least initially, you were bothered by Eddie’s, guilty for enjoying that Bucky was the one who actively made a move when Eddie didn’t, for missing him more than you missed Eddie, for feeling more positively about his change of mind than Eddie’s, for wanting Bucky more…
Guilt because you know you’re falling for him. For Bucky. And there’s little you can do to stop it.
“What is it?” Sharon asks, tightening her lips and nodding at where you’re chewing your nails.
You promptly stop, bringing your hands to around your knees again, “I guess I wasn’t expecting either of them there.” You decide not to share your most recent thoughts with them.
“You know why both of them were there. It was definitely not a coincidence.” Nat reminds you.
“I know… but it's ok, they were polite...” You brush it off but add, quickly, fighting back a smile at the memories that flashes in your mind, “In their own way.”
“Polite? Even when Bucky had his face up your pussy?” Sharon teases, not letting that one go, and making you give in and let out a laugh while you hide your face with your hands for a moment.
“I was pretty excited to find out he was there, actually,” you admit and their faces light up, which you assume is prompted by your own expression. “It was a thrilling sensation… I can’t quite explain.”
“He really is in love with you…Bucky…” Nat tightens her lips and tilts her head.
You sigh, looking back at her, “I know…” You admit.
They both keep waiting for you to say something else but you don’t know what you could say. No… as a matter of fact, you do. You’re just not ready to put your thoughts out in the world. At first, you had your doubts if what Bucky was feeling was really that deep… but now… something has changed. You believe him. You really do. And you know you’re falling for him, too, but…
Eddie was the one you wanted for so long… you’ve made so many plans with him… Long term plans. You used to see yourself growing old with him and that’s an image that still somehow haunts your feelings. And now… the fact that guilt surrounds the feelings arising for Bucky inside you makes you feel like a cheater. You didn’t feel that when it was just sex, but now you do. And you’re damn scared.
What if you surrender to your feelings now and go to Bucky and then comes a day you’ll realize that you were wrong and Eddie will still be the one you really want? You wanted him for so long… can that really have changed? How can one let go of that feeling, that certainty of being right for each other, without being afraid of doing the wrong thing? And if that happens, if you do the wrong thing now, you will eventually hurt Bucky and that’s definitely the last thing you want.
That’s fucked up and you know it. But it’s what you’re feeling.
You keep it to yourself, though.  
~~~
It’s a few hours after the girls left your place, you take a refreshing and long bath and are about to put on a movie to relax a bit more for the rest of the evening. Maybe that way you can put your thoughts and feelings in order.
That duality of emotions is crushing your mind. You wanted some time alone and you had that… now, you can’t help the feeling that you need to come to a decision, a conclusion of some sort, you just can’t keep pushing it further. For better or for worse. Or you will lose your mind soon.
A comfort movie is in order for all the thinking you need to do, so you set “The Prisoner of Azkaban” on your TV before you head to the kitchen. You’re still pretty full of all the junk food the three of you made a feast of the whole afternoon, so you decide to prepare just an old recipe of peach iced tea your mom has taught you. Perfect for the hot weather, too.
You’ve just added the ice in the jar when your intercom rings. You frown wondering who could that be and check your phone for any missed calls or messages, finding none before answering the intercom.
“Yeah? Oh… no, yeah, sure, come up.” You press the button to let him in. Your heart beats just slightly faster, wondering what could he possibly be doing there.
“Hi,” he greets, once you open the door after he pressed the ringer.
“Hi,” you answer, and without even thinking, just keep staring at him, blocking his way into your apartment while he stands at your door, holding a big box in his hands.
“Can I come in?” He asks, when you say nothing else.  
“Oh, yeah, of course, sorry.” You step aside, allowing Eddie to walk into your living room with a tight smile on his lips.  
“Please,” you gesture towards your sofa and he nods, walking with you over there, “I was about to pour me some iced tea, would you like some?” You offer, tentativeness still present in your tone, while the big box secured in his hands grasps your attention for a second.   
“Your mom’s recipe?” He asks, his whole face lightening up as he takes his seat.
You chuckle and nod.
“Oh, hell yeah, then.”
You take just a little longer than you actually need to fix the tea for the two of you in the kitchen. For some reason, his presence, after the night before, what you did with Bucky and after you coming to terms that you are, indeed, growing feelings for the other guy… it just unsettles you.
After taking a deep breath or two, you come back to the living room. Some small conversation ensues while you take a seat by his side and you two drink from the tea you’ve just prepared.
“Ahm…What’s that?” At some point you give in to the curiosity and nod towards the box now on your center table.
He smiles, before placing his cup on your table and taking the box in his hands. He shifts on the sofa, making room for placing it on one of the cushions between the two of you. “I was taking a look at it at home earlier, it just… I couldn’t help myself… and decided to come by to show you.”
When he opens the lid, placing it aside, you take in the contents, which makes your heart beat a bit funny at the surprise. You recognize pictures of the two of you, letters, a few souvenirs… All of them represent a memory of your relationship.   
“Oh…” you say. You know all that stuff had been stashed in some place, but you never knew he had taken them with him once he moved out.
“Yeah…” Eddie brushes the back of his neck, peering at you from beneath his lashes, “I guess I really wasn’t that confident about my decision when I left…” he shrugs, looking down at the box again, “I just couldn’t leave it behind.”
You give him a tightened and brief smile, before placing your teacup on the table and starting to fumble through the items inside the box. You let out a breathy laugh when you find a picture of the day you two have met… he had founded a study group on advanced software creating techniques and you were the only one to show up.
“Oh my God…” you laugh.
“Yeah… what a couple of nerds,” Eddie chuckles, looking at the picture.
He helps you through the shuffling when you go through some more pictures from college, his family, your family… the day you two closed the deal to buy the apartment… the letter you received when you were both accepted in the Avengers tech team…
You feel the tears gathering in your eyes before they start silently rolling down your cheeks… It’s a weird sensation, it’s like meeting with an old part of yourself, an old friend. One that has never really left, but you almost don’t recognize anymore… leading to a nostalgic and longing feeling.
They’re all good memories stashed on that box… of course… you guess no one is really keen to proposedly keep a souvenir from the bad ones… but that’s not on what your focus lays right now.  Your attention is caught by a particular thing from the box. A small gasp escapes your lungs at the sight.
You look up at Eddie, whose eyes have been intensely trained on you, before you grab the object in your hands.
It’s a scrapbook you two have made through college years. While you silently and carefully go through the pages your life passes in front of your eyes. Movie and concert tickets… more pictures… a few drawings… software ideas you had together… little notes you’ve written to each other… and then, on the very last couple of pages, there they are.
You remember them. The day you two decided to write a letter to each other, telling how you wanted your future to be.
You roam your fingers through the frayed papers… you don’t have to read them again to know what’s there. You remember. Without knowing, in the end you two had written the exact same thing in both letters… among other small stuff, you two wrote you wanted a kick ass job, live in the city in an apartment of your own… and stay together forever.
Your watery gaze follows when Eddie slides down to the floor and kneels before you, taking your hands in his, “I meant every word then and I still do,” he says, softly, staring deeply into your eyes, “I can’t see my future without you… I just can’t.” He shakes his head, before it drops.
You see how his lips twist before he looks up at you again, with a saddened look on his face, “I know how that guy makes you feel…”
Your body freezes just as your heart does and you feel the precise moment when it splits in two. That heavy sensation comes back to your chest when the image of Bucky pops into your mind and suddenly there are two lives running before your eyes. One there, with Eddie, with everything you've ever dreamed of… the other running straight into Bucky's arms and leaving all of that behind.
And you know there's only one right for you.
You're brought back to reality by the sound of Eddie's voice.
 “I- I know about what happened last night, I, ahm, I’ve heard the girls…” he stammers but holds his hold on your hands when you shift on your seat and he senses your discomfort. “No… it’s ok. “I know it’s new… it’s exciting…” he continues, nodding and hastily licking his lips, “And you deserve to explore that. You do… it’s ok.” He puts on a small smile, “But I want you to know that I’m here. I’m waiting for you. I’m waiting for us… for our future. No matter how long it takes. How much fun you need to have with that guy before you realize what I already know.” He smiles wider, “Because I know you and I are it. We’ve always been it.”
You’re frowning while looking down at him. His words making their way into your senses.  
You free one hand of his secured hold to reach over and cup his smiling face.
He leans into your touch.
You make a decision. 
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onewithnomightypowers ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Old Habits
pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader
summary: Old habits come back when you meet an ex lover after a long time. Conversations feel like you never stopped talking to them. Sometimes you have to see them one last time to say goodbye like you mean it but most of the time it doesn’t go as planned.
warning: drinking
words: 2.1k
a/n: could be read as part 2 of last kiss but is a stand alone. got a bit poetic at the end. hope you guys like it. and as always, love reading your opinions/reactions. also asks are open. (gif not mine)
masterlist 
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'@tomholland2013 posted a story'
'@tomholland2013 posted a story'
 She picked up her phone to open Instagram. Yes, Y/N still had notifications on for his account even after they were broken up for months. Classic Tom. 
 He posted two of the same picture on his story. No one understood how that would happen almost every time, not even the people working at Instagram to whom they contacted about the glitch.
 Tom had his hair slicked back, standing in a white t-shirt next to Harry, his brother, giving a million-dollar smile. They were holding a clapperboard together. There was text on the picture too, 'day 1 let's go!!' She smiled to herself. Just because they weren't together doesn't mean that she wasn't allowed to feel happy for his achievements. Even though she wishes to know all these big things from Tom himself she is, unfortunately, left here, watching a small part of his life flash in front of her for less than thirty seconds.
 "Are you listening?" Hope, Y/N's date said.
 "Yeah, I'm sorry. You were saying?" Y/N placed the phone back where it was resting, next to the cold wine bottle.
 "You seem distant," they said.
 When she 'met' Hope (she only really met them 30 minutes ago), Y/N wasn't looking for love, just sex, and that is what online dating specializes in. She hoped Hope knew what they were signing up for, sexual intimacy and nothing else.
 "It doesn't matter does, does it? We both know what we are here for. Why not just cut the chase," Y/N replied.
--
It was early in the morning, the sun had yet to shine in its full glory. Y/N could only think of the first time she stayed over at Tom's old apartment but then she turned her head only to find Hope's naked body next to her. Her heartbeat accelerated with the realization that he was not hers anymore. Being in a foreign environment didn't help her growing anxiety, twisting and turning her intestines.
 It's been four months, her feelings for Tom refuse to quit on her because she knows she could never quit on them, on him, even if he has. He probably has already found someone else in Canada, she thought. She didn't want him anymore but she still needed him, one last time just to teach her stupid heart how to say goodbye.
 Y/N wore her clothes and picked up her shoes, going on a trail to find Hope's door to get out before they wake up. Climbing down the stairs, she took out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.
 '5 new messages from Sam' 7 hours ago
Sam: hey
Sam: ik it's late
Sam: I am going for a run tmr morning @6
Sam: do you wanna come?
Sam: will go to the new coffee house near my house after that
 Y/N texted him back
Y/N: I'll meet you at the coffee place
Sam: come fast. already here
--
Sam and Y/N were standing in the queue to place their orders. “You look especially shitty today,” Sam said, running his right hand through his sweaty hair.
“I haven’t been home yet,” Y/N reasoned her appearance.
 His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. The person in front of them left the queue, they moved towards the counter. “One hazelnut latte, double shot with skimmed milk,” Y/N gave her order.
 “And you?” the cashier’s question directed to Sam.
 “I’ll have a matcha latte with oat milk”
 Sam turned to Y/N, “Harrison got me on matcha, and now I can’t go back to coffee”
 They paid their dues and moved over to the barista counter to collect their order.
 “So, what were you doing last night?” Sam inquired.
 “I was on a date, it isn't a big deal though. Just had some needs to take care of”
 “Oh, was it any good?”
 “It was fine. I was distracted the whole time. Saw Tom’s story about halfway into the bottle of merlot. Couldn’t stop thinking about him”
 “Seems…sad. But you know Tom is coming back for the Christmas weekend, I think. He might attend Harrison’s Christmas eve party”
 “One hazelnut latte and one matcha latte,” someone behind the counter screamed.
 “That’s us,” Sam raised his voice.
--
Harrison had a bucket inside his house, under a sign that said 'drop your tracking devices here' with an arrow pointing to the bucket. Y/N dropped her phone on a pile of roughly fourteen others. Debating whether to see Tom's face was something she wanted or not made her late and not very fashionably.
 The house was decorated with empty liquor bottles along with red and green streamers from one wall to another. Everyone was drunk in their best dress. There were no signs of Tom yet. Y/N took a deep breath, walking towards the kitchen to get herself some liquid courage to help her socialize.
 The kitchen was rather scarcely populated. Empty glasses were lined up next to the sink. Are they clean or used? Bending down, Y/N opened the refrigerator to see if Harrison had any chilled wine. No luck. "Hey," a familiar voice was heard.
 She looked up at the familiar stranger.
 "Hey Tom," she smiled. The refrigerator light falling on Y/N made her blush visible.
She grabbed a half-cut lemon placed in the egg tray.
 “How have you been?" Tom asked leaning back on the kitchen counter, observing her movements.
 Y/N walked towards the sink to grab herself a crystal glass hoping for it to be clean. "Just busy with work these days"
 "I heard you got a job at CondÊ Nast, is that true?" he took a sip from his beer.
 "Well, you heard right. You are looking at their new senior brand manager for digital", she said proudly.
 Tom hugged her from the side she was holding a knife to cut the lemon for her gin and tonic. "That's great darling! You always wanted to work there"
 Darling. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering like the first time she met Tom.
 "I saw your story the other day. You started filming your script, right?" she dropped the lemon in the glass.  
 "Yup, it was a long time coming," he grabbed the knife she was using and washed it without even knowing. He was so used to Y/N never washing utensils after using them and, he would always have to clean up after her.
 "Congrats on that babe!" The word 'babe' just slipped out of practice.
 Y/N grabbed a Bombay Sapphire standing still on the marble slab. The blue of the bottle shinning even in the dim-lit room.
 "I missed you," Y/N made eye contact, screwing the cap back on. A long, silent pause.
 I miss you too, so very much
 She cleared her throat, "so, how long are you staying?"
 "Going back Monday morning"
 She opened a can of tonic water.
 "Are you seeing someone?" Tom asked.
 "Wouldn't you wanna know" a smirk on her face grew. "I've been out on few dates, nothing serious. What about you?"
 "Met this girl online, dated for a bit but, she wanted something I couldn't give to her"
 Y/N scoffed, "did she have a foot fetish or something?"
 "No, Y/N. She wanted love, not my feet" they both laughed.
 "On that topic..." Tom calmed himself, "...I was listening to this song a few weeks ago and, there was this line, 'the smell of your hair reminds me of her feet' and it made me think of you"
 "I reckon," she took a sip of her gin and tonic.
 "No, seriously, I really related to that line. No matter how many people I hook up with, it will be hard to find the type of intimacy I shared with you. I still relate to it"
 "I hate going on walks alone and having faceless dreams," Y/N blurted, lacking a proper reaction.
 "You're still the face of all my fantasies," Tom confessed.
 None of them knew what to say next. Anything they thought of saying now included walking over the blurry line of exes to lovers.
 "You look pretty"
 "Classic me, had a glow up after getting my heartbroken"
 "You always looked this pretty. You are beautiful," Tom assured her. The 'heartbroken part did not sit well with him. He already felt guilty for taking a job across the pond which was a great opportunity for him to grow but was only possible by severing his ties with Y/N.  
 --
It had just started snowing on Boxing Day. Tom was alone in his cold home, boiling a pot of ramen noodles. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the burning stove with the pot on top.
Tom: *attached photo*
Tom: I come back after months and my family leaves me alone with no food
Y/N: you should add a poached egg
Tom: Thanks. I shall.
Tom: I think I made too much ramen for me
Tom: do you wanna come over and share?
 Her indecision was visible by the coming and going of the gray dots. Then finally, Tom could tame his anxiety by her simple reply.
 Y/N: sure.
--
There was a loud knock on the door. Tom put two bowls of hot ramen on the dining table and went to open the door. Behind the door, Y/N was standing with her hands inside her brown checker coat. There was dust of snow sitting on her shoulders. Her braided hair was made by the most anxious hands in town.
 The door opened and, Tom’s hands flew to take Y/N in his arms. They hugged like little kids hug their parents after being away from each other, for them, an eternity. It did feel like an eternity to them too but, they hadn’t forgotten each other’s touch.
 “I parked my car at the church, couldn’t find any spot here ‘cause of the snow," she pulled out.
 “The snow seems to be gaining momentum.”
 Y/N hummed in agreement. She took off her coat and hung it in the Holland’s coat closet.
 “Come on, the ramen is getting cold,” she followed tom into the kitchen.
 They sat adjacent on the wooden table in comfortable silence. Tom used chopsticks and, Y/N used a fork. Only the occasional noodles falling in the broth were heard, along with the gushing of wind.
 “It’s really spicy for me,” Tom said.
 “Yeah, I can see your ears turning red.”
She still remembers 
 Y/N raised her hand to cover her mouth while yawning.
 “Since you made the food, I’ll do the dishes,” she got up, grabbed their bowls, and walked over to the sink.
 Wearing the gloves, she turned to Tom, “it was quite tasty”.
 Tom gave her a smile.
 She spread the soap on the dishes and turned the tap on. Tom pushed his chair back to get up.
 “Have you made any friends at your new job,” he jumped and sat on the counter next to Y/N.
 “Yeah, sort of. Kyara works there too so, I have just made her friends my friends,” she washed his chopsticks.
 “That’s good. Have you talked to Emily after the wedding? She told me they are planning on adopting.”
 “They invited me over for dinner when they got the approval from the agency. Kyara made this amazing Hyderabadi biryani, it was her mum’s recipe so, it was obviously better than the restaurant”
 “God! You and your love for Indian food”
 Y/N removed her gloves, “I should go. Thanks for the ramen, by the way”
 “Are you sure you can go out in this weather?”
 “Yeah I think," she started walking out of the kitchen.
 Tom grabbed her hand. “Stay”, his voice was like cotton.
 Y/N turned and made contact with his pleading eyes. She moved closer to him. “Please”, he said. They both were inching in to lock their desperate lips.
--
Y/N did not notice when she had fallen asleep talking to Tom. Their naked bodies were covered by the white comforter. Her eyes slowly opened to a boy with brown eyes and messy hair looking at her.
 “I like it when you sleep. I love watching you sleep”
 She chuckled. “That’s a bit creepy, don’t you think?” She had a sleepy voice.
 “You look so serene, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I could stare at you for eons”
 “But love, I'm only here till the snow settles,” she caressed his cheeks.
“Then the cold shall frost our limbs," he leaned in to kiss her.
tags: @elios-timotea​
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idontblushsrry ¡ 4 years ago
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Haruhi Fujioka||SFW Alphabet
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A/N: Making gender neutral Haruhi Fujioka content because she’s criminally underrated in fic
Word Count: 1996
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A: Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Haruhi shows her affection by helping you and spending time with you. She’s actually quite affectionate. She’s pretty private with it, especially when the twins are around, but she likes to be held by you, preferring to scoot closer to you to lean her head on your shoulder.
B: Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
As a best friend, Haruhi is really good at giving you logical/calm advice . Like she’s very blunt and to the point and it might hurt your feelings a little but she never does it out of ill will. Also Haruhi is the best for doing random hobbies or going to random places because she’s just like oh ok and she won’t make fun of you or anything. Overall a good best friend to vibe with that’s also hella responsible.
C: Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Haruhi isn’t really big on cuddling. She doesn’t mind it and she’ll cuddle if you want but she’s not one to initiate. The one exception is during storms, Haruhi won’t even say anything to you, she’ll just walk up to you and let you hold her while she’s shaking until she falls asleep.
D: Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Haruhi is literally the spokesperson of domesticity across the world. Ms. girl has a whole recipe book don’t even play. However, while cooking and cleaning were things she picked up out of necessity, she loves you all the more because you do this for her without her even needing to ask.
E: Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
If Haruhi had to break up with you, she’s very solemn about it. It’s almost formulaic like she practiced it 1000x (spoiler alert: she did). She cherishes every moment you both spent together, but she feels it’s best if you remained friends.
F: Fiance(e) (How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Haruhi really doesn’t care either way about marriage. She’s not super traditional in the sense that marriage is a deal breaker, but if you do have a wedding, she’d like it to be simple, with your closest friends and family. Do be warned that Ranka will be slightly butt-hurt if you don’t get married, however the fight between her and Tamaki on who gets to walk Haruhi down the aisle is probably worth getting married.
G: Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Physically and emotionally, Haruhi is very gentle and attentive. Physically, she’s very gentle, mainly because she’s unsure of what you’re okay with and the both of you are just getting a feeling for what you want. However, later on in your relationship, she’s still gentle but she gives her affection a lot more openly in a way that’s still secretive, like placing a kiss on your cheek and walking away like nothing happened. Emotionally, Haruhi is very attentive to the emotions of those around her, even if that person is very private or generally good at hiding their emotions. 
H: Hugs( Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?
Haruhi is fine with hugs, she doesn’t really initiate them but she’ll just stand there and let you hug her if you need to. The only time she doesn’t like hugs is when they lead to her being the center of attention and getting hugs from behind. Please don’t hug her from behind, it reminds her of when she got thrown in the ocean during the beach episode and she’s also afraid you might pick her up.
I: I love you (How fast do they say the L-word)
It takes Haruhi quite some time to confess her love to you because admittedly she’s a little dense when it comes to her own feelings. Once she realizes it, it’s all a matter of the perfect time.
J: Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)
Haruhi’s jealousy is kinda deadpan. Like when she gets jealous, her face just goes blank and she just looks like ‘-_-’ the whole time. She’s silent and won’t make a fuss about it, even if the two of you are alone, but the whole time, she’s making that face until the person she’s jealous of goes away.
K: Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Haruhi’s kisses are polite in a way. She kisses like she’s grateful for the opportunity, she does get a little needy when pulling away. She’s always going on and on about how she could kiss you forever.
L: Little ones (How are they around children)
Around kids, Haruhi is honestly like the best. She’s very practical,, responsible, and pretty good at tuning out things that annoy her (read, the entire Ouran Highschool Host Club minus Mori) so she makes for a good babysitter and an even better parent. She’s also very attentive when it comes to kids, she doesn’t quite have the intuition for it but she has a determination and a willingness to learn.
M: Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Mornings with Haruhi are very sweet. Haruhi and you will get up and make a meal together, even if it’s something simple like toast, Haruhi loves spending time with you, and what better way to do it than a slow morning.
N: Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Nights with Haruhi are nice, they’re sweet and slow. Haruhi will brew you both a thing of peppermint or chamomile tea and then you’ll be out like a light before you even know it. That’s when the real battle starts. Haruhi can and will snatch the covers from you and she’s surprisingly strong for someone unconscious. Good luck on recovering that blanket friend.
O: Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Haruhi is pretty open already. She is a natural after all, any vulnerabilities she has have been shared and any concerns have been brought up to you as her s/o
P: Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Haruhi’s patience is going to get a 76% rating. She does mind her business and make an effort not to be involved in certain things, but drama and mess always seem to just find her. Haruhi does not like messiness or any form of foolishness or buffoonery at all, she doesn’t care for it and is quick to anger when she comes across it.
Q: Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Haruhi remembers things about you in order of like responsibility. So she’s like memorizing your allergies, your emergency contacts, clothes and shoe size, etc. like she’s almost like a parent in that regard. She does it almost unconsciously too like one day you’ll be out at some street fair and she’s like “oh no Y/N that’ll trigger your allergies” without even missing a beat like it’s almost terrifying sometimes.
R: Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Her favorite moment in your relationship is when you got tickets for you both to go to a butterfly garden and you proceeded to spend about 20 minutes hyping Haruhi up on her outfit before you even left for the sanctuary. Once you both got there, you took so many pictures of Haruhi surrounded by flowers and butterflies, and honestly she looked ethereal. But that day with you she smiled and laughed so much that her face was a little sore when she got home.
S: Security (How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)
Please protect this girl, she’s so sweet. Haruhi protects you by just sort of checking on your needs. The way she needs/ deserves to be protected is the real focus. Of course the general looking out for each other, but if you protect Haruhi like emotionally and she’s yours for life. A a kid, despite her dad’s best efforts, Haruhi wasn’t exactly protected, she had to do a lot of fending for herself and her dad, and she doesn’t resent him for that, but it does affect the way she thinks. So if you can prove that you’re a constant source of support for her,,,
T: Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
In terms of her gifts, and any anniversaries, Haruhi is extremely thoughtful. Even if she doesn’t have much money she still plans meticulously to make sure you have the best day. Her gifts tend to lean on the more practical side as opposed to the fanciful side but if she’s able to, she’ll still try to get you something like a charm bracelet. In terms of dates, Haruhi is still meticulous but most of your dates are you two doing some task but together. She tries very hard though to make time in her day for you even if you both only get to spend an hour or 2 together.
U: Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs? (I’m gonna add arguments here because they aren’t on the prompt list I found))
A bad habit Haruhi has is that she tends to downplay serious issues. She tends to downplay her own issues but on occasion she does tend to downplay your feelings. Not intentionally of course, but you’ll be upset and she’ll just go “Y/N, that seems really small to be so upset about” in that deadpan tone. She does work on it though, but her tendency to downplay issues does cause arguments between you two.
V: Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Haruhi puts in enough effort to impress you. She’s not big on being ‘vain’ but she does like to look nice for you.
W: Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Not at all, in fact, one of Haruhi’s favorite parts of your relationship is that fact that you can both spend time apart and still want to come back home to each other. As much as she loves you, she still has other things in life that she wants outside of you. It fills her with the greatest sense of joy to know that you both have each other’s back and are there for each other after everything.
X: (E)xes (Any previous relationship experience. How does that factor into your current relationship?)
Haruhi canonically has 0 relationship experience and it’s completely her fault. She’s just very goal-oriented and a little oblivious romantically so she can’t really tell when someone likes her unless they tell her at which point she informs them that she’s got shit to do.
Y: Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner)
In general, it takes a lot for Haruhi to genuinely dislike someone as a person. She’s pretty level headed so it takes a lot for her emotions to override her ,mind like that. She tends to have character traits that are more of a no than people that she doesn’t like, a few things get her mad though, are inconsiderateness, thinking the world revolves around you, and of course, rich people.
Z: Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
You got Haruhi a sleeping mask with her initials on them and she sleeps with it pretty much every night. Like she has a schedule, it’s part of her night time routine there’s no going back now, even if she’s going on vacation, she’ll triple-check to make sure she’s grabbed it.
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taeyohonic ¡ 4 years ago
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stolen dances | chap. 11
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summary: sometimes supporting the person you love is the hardest challenge you’ll ever face.
pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader
rating: m
warning: swear words, therapy talk
additional tags: f2l, ceo!jungkook, bestfriend!jungkook, shrink!yoongi, my best friend’s wedding meets 27 dresses (if the boss/secretary couple had happened), angst-y
words: 2300
links: prev. |  next  [masterlist]
note: lower case letters intended
chapter summary: seokjin mid sneeze would ruin half of your wedding pictures.
“let’s do this picnic then,” jungkook breathes against your skin and you feel a headache coming – again. you don’t know what you expected, but for him to not even comment on the fact that yoongi is your therapist, is well… kind of insulting.
“yeah, let’s do that,” you agree and let go of his ear. you go girl! tell him exactly how you feel.
“is there a reason i’m not allowed to carry anything?” he’s struggling with the basket as well your backpack and the two iced coffees you hadn’t noticed before. still, jungkook is not letting you help him in any way, his sunglasses are as high up his nose as his ego.
“nah,” he scoffs with humor, “you’ll just drop the coffee – can’t risk it.”
“that was one time,” you argue and push a single finger straight up his nostril. jungkook scrunches his nose adorably before he pushes you away.
“gross, ____”
the weather is nice and you can’t help the spring in your steps as the two of you join the many visitors. for a moment you’re afraid of them recognizing your former idol friend. but jungkook doesn’t seem to care – he is more focused on the melting ice in your drinks. and he knows his bodyguard is close by. but you haven’t noticed the bulky man following behind you.
“can we move closer to the tree line?” you ask him, not wanting to join the couples sunbathing. nah, your hangover is not smiling kindly upon your headache. shade and some non-alcoholic liquid should do the trick.
“of course” your best friend changes directions and guides you to the more secluded area. the air smells fresh and you take a moment to breath it in – not even thinking about helping jungkook set up the picnic. the green is vibrant around you and for a second you imagine how beautiful his wedding would have been if it was right here. right now. but no, they had to do an autumn event. you want to get married in spring, you think and feel a smile touching your lips.
“why are you looking like that?” your friend asks, already seated on the soft blanket, sipping on his iced coffee.
“i’d like a spring wedding,” you answer, not even filtering your thoughts – you shouldn’t have to in front of your friend. jungkook’s reaction is close to comedic gold: his eyes widen while he sucks a breath of caffeine in his lungs; coughing harshly.
you move on instinct, closing the distance and rubbing soothing circles on his back.
“wh- what the-e fu -…fuck?” he coughs and pushes against your touch to lean further on you.
“spring… it’d be so pretty, don’t you think?” you start after checking that he’s breathing normally again. “and just imagine the sea of flowers during this time. i really like the idea.”
you are met with silence. a long one. without looking at him, you grab your drink and take a sip.
then, jungkook answers. “your skin would look lovely against cherry blossoms.”
now you’re the one speechless – who even says stuff like that?
“don’t be condescending, kook,” you respond, willing your cheeks to discolor asap. your best friend just chuckles.
“i’m telling the truth, ____,” jungkook protests as he grabs your hand and holds it up against the treetops. “look, your skin glows.” his fingers push against your palm and you’re just… not stable enough for this. with a silent shudder you escape his touch.
“don’t say stuff like that to me, jungkook,” you voice rather harsh and you avoid his questioning gaze. you miss his touch as much as you hated it in the first place. jungkook doesn’t answer for a moment, but when he does, there is a forced joke on his lips.
“jin-hyung would be sneezing 24/7 with his allergies.” true, the oldest always looks in so much pain when you all move around during pollen season. you chuckle and try to get your thoughts away from a very unattractive mid-sneeze seokjin and more focused on the cupcakes peeking out of jungkook’s basket.
“can’t have my man of honor sabotaging all the wedding pictures,” you snort and grab one of the baked goods – it’s an apple crumble muffin, making your mouth water instantly.
“hah” your best friend laughs at you while some crumbles fall into your lap. “if taehyung isn’t your man of honor, he’ll prank bomb the hell out of your wedding.”
“what about you?” you ask and face him fully, the half-eaten muffin in your palm an unspoken invitation as jungkook snatches it from you. he takes a bite and you think he regrets taking off his sunglasses. his eyes look at you hesitantly.
“i’m not sure you’d like to have me as your man of honor,” he confesses and you watch him with surprise. is he the same person who wanted you to become his best man a few days ago?
“why would you think that?”
“you know,” jungkook starts and moves an inch away from you – his palms are pressed into the blanket. “the last few weeks i felt like… maybe there are some… moments where this” – jungkook’s head moves between the two of you – “wasn’t as honest as it’s used to be.”
you are kind of disappointed in yourself. there you are – going to therapy twice a week, working on a healthy, objective relationship with your crush. and now it’s him, not you, who is the brave one.
“but it’s not bad, right?” you voice, insecurity making your tone more timid than you’d like. even if jungkook doesn’t love you, he still cherishes you, right? your best friend looks at you like there is a whole ass shinigami on your shoulder.
“____, our friendship could never be bad. never.” then there is a silence. “but, like… do you feel secure with me? with this?”
his eyes shine with questions you are not ready to answer. but jungkook’s stare is there and it’s now and maybe it’s right on time.
“my mental health hasn’t been so good lately,” you start hesitantly. “i’m trying to reevaluate my relationships… see… where to make… improvements or… or where to set boundaries.”
honesty without being explicit. yoongi would roll his eyes.
the man in front of you nods, no judgement in his face. then he speaks:
“i’ve been in therapy since bangtan retired,” jungkook offers, which makes you suck in a harsh breath – for years he’s been seeing someone without you – his best friend – knowing?
“i had this whole identity – people idolizing me – milking me for… money, fame… opportunity. and then i just – just stopped being a singer. stopped my vlives. stopped my posts. many left – was i nothing without my band?” he asks softly tracing the lines on the blanket underneath you. there are tears in your eyes at his pain.
“talking about it, reshaping myself, rediscovering me – was … so tiering.” he chuckles without humor and you can’t help but agree: every therapy session is like a sixty-minute cardio routine.
“it was actually my therapist who recommended me doing these dance workshops in schools. i wouldn’t have met you if i didn’t listen to her,” jungkook reveals and you smile softly at the memory of a flustered jungkook surrounded by all your students, excited to meet a former idol.
“so, i hope you know that i’m very proud of you for seeing yoongi.” his voice sound strained, not entirely honest. “and i hope you realize that this“ his hand moves between the two of you “is a good thing.”
your heart beats faster while your skin shudders from a phantom cold. it’s confusing and exciting at the same time. jungkook looks as vulnerable as a porcelain doll in front of you. you feel close to tears watching your best friend.
“i hope so too, kook,” you admit and smile. he doesn’t mirror you because there is a part of him disappointed you are hoping instead of knowing. it’s a big part.
“you are a good thing to me, ____,” jungkook offers instead. “and that’s verified by my therapist.”
now a chuckle escapes him and you can’t help your own laughter joining in.
“but you have so many good things – i’m still searching for mine.” there is a wistful undertone in your voice and you are not ashamed of it.
“apart from you and the boys and my company… there is little that brings me joy,” jungkook confesses, making you freeze with his exclusion.
“what about your fiancée?” you ask and can’t look into his deep eyes.
“you know how it is with her,” he answers in a monotone voice. you want to scream at him, that you in fact do not know how it is, that you have only seen her a handful of times. heck, you’ve even met seokjin’s housekeeper more often than jungkook’s fiancée. your best friend has done the most to separate you two. you can count every mention of her on your fingers and you’d still have some left. it’s unfair he looks at you like you’re it when he’s got a woman at home wearing his engagement ring with pride.
there is so much frustration mounting in your stomach, it makes you mad.
“maybe i don’t know enough,” you say, the heat missing in your words. you sound more resigned and seeing how distant jungkook looks at you, there is little hope he’ll explain more… or anything.
“sir” jungkook’s bodyguard scares you, not having heard the mountain of muscles coming up to the two of you. “excuse the interruption” he is not interrupting anything. “a few girls have spotted you. your location is compromised.”
jungkook looks relieved and nods at his security. there is a silly part of you who’s glad as well, but another one would have loved to press your best friend for… anything.
“let’s pack up, ____” jungkook is on his feet in seconds and even though he mentioned the both of you, there is an unspoken order as his bodyguard starts to collect the food while the ceo takes your empty coffee cups. you shouldn’t lift a finger – still, it’s you who gets up and folds the now unoccupied blanket. the silence is not uncomfortable, but there is an underlying tension making you vibrate not only from the caffeine.
you’re out of the park in under ten minutes. during the ride back you steal one of the untouched muffins. jungkook acts like he doesn’t notice. the next morning a few pictures of your outing make it onto page six of the local newspaper. taehyung is astonished because he wasn’t invited. seokjin makes an unflattering meme out of one snap where you are drinking coffee. and jimin is silent, as are you and jungkook.
**
most of the times when you are waiting for yoongi to open his door and invite you into the now familiar office, you feel anxious. it’s normal, you know that. most people don’t like working through their problems. like jungkook said, it’s tiering. still, you are always 12 % excited to see your therapist because he is cool. talking to him means something to you. today however you feel impatient.
your picnic with jungkook is fresh in your mind. you’ve even taken the time to write some of your dialog down, so you’d be more objective during the retelling. yoongi will know how to work through this; you’ve got confidence in him.
“_____?” your therapist looks at you from the threshold of his door. he looks professional in his teal button down, wearing his glasses. but at the same time his face is paler than usual, fatigue clouding his eyes. you try to grin at him while closing the distance.
“hey, yoongi! how have you been?” you ask, making your voice extra soft not to irritate him. there is a forced smile on his lips – the one he always has when you start to rant about your oats. it makes you halt in front of him.
“everything okay?”
yoongi just nods before stepping back into his office and motioning you to follow him. still unsure about his mood, you just want to feel the familiar leather of his couch underneath you. he’d explain soon, you think. yeah, and then you could talk about jungkook. again.
but the couch is not empty. hell, your seat – the one you’ve had for months – is occupied. a man is grinning at you so brightly you want to close your eyes. and move him from your seat. in that order.
“huh?” you go, _____. very eloquent.
“hoseok, this is ______. ______, this is hoseok,” yoongi introduces you formally and you can’t help it but to bow curtly at the male in your seat. the man – hoseok – gets up from his – your – spot and moves closer to yoongi and you.
“______, i’m so, so happy to finally meet you!” this person is too happy. it’s like he tries to be the extrovert energy in the room that’s missing between you and yoongi. hoseok looks like the sun and you don’t like it. what is he doing here? and what does he mean by finally? confused, you stare at yoongi. why does he look so ashamed while tilting his glasses further up his nose?
“what is he doing here?” you ask a bit too blunt, but you know yoongi doesn’t care.
“he’s a colleague of mine. one of the best”, your shrink says slowly. so what, they had a meeting? lunch date? and he’s leaving now? just an overlap of meetings?
hoseok seems to take pity on his old friend when he addresses you next.
“i’ll be taking over your case from now, ______.”
_____
sorry that i’ve been away for so long. life has been bad. too much stress to handle. then i read a lot of fanfic to destress and it made me just more insecure about my own writing. still, i tried my best with this chapter and i hope you enjoyed it! please let me know what you think! i’d love to hear from you! fair warning: next chapter is gonna be the downhill to the angst-y part of this fic. just to clarify: i don’t like what yoongi and jungkook are doing here. just to be clear. but i do think they are both trying. somewhat. love, dana p.s. someone recommended this fic @ ficswithlove and it was very touching and i loved that a lot... thanks again to this kind soul!
taglist: @livewittykid  @thequeen-kat @kagami-s-void @goldenclosethobi @youwannabelostandnotbefound @jinsalpaca @bishuthot @laabellaavitaa21 @baekstans @jalexad​​ @jinsearthh​ @kseokwu​  @betysotelo18​ @daydreambrliever​
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let-them-read-fics ¡ 4 years ago
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Empress of the Heart (Pt. 2)
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Synopsis / Request: “Reader is an actress, and she meets Jennie at an event. They have a one night stand afterward, and months later they meet again.”
Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Actress!Reader
Warnings / Misc: Smut (only in Pt. 1), Angst, Fluff
Here’s the second half of the request for you lovely peeps! Enjoy :)
Part 1
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
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"Y/N, more people are arriving and management wants us to greet them. Something about photo ops." Jackson, your fellow lead, says as he pokes his head into your dressing room. His entrance intruded on your thoughts of the beautiful brunette that effectively stole your heart away within a night, leaving you completely at her mercy despite being worlds away.  
"Alright, just give me a second." He nods and goes to stand outside your door -- you're expected to be seen together for a good portion of the night. Thankfully, though, Jackson is a good guy; he cares a lot about you, always doing everything in his power to keep you happy. The feeling is mutual; it's nice to have someone in your corner in an industry as unforgiving as this one. 
"Ready?" You ask, opening the door after you've checked yourself in the mirror and smoothed down any unruly hairs or clothing. Looking presentable is a must tonight -- you can't appear as wistful as you've been feeling lately. 
"Sure am." His answer is a bit unnecessary, seeing as how you asked a rhetorical question, but you send him a smile nonetheless. He offers you an arm, and soon the two of you are walking back towards the entrance of the building. 
--------
Waves of flashing cameras greet you for the second time tonight, now capturing you in your full glammed-out look. The first time had been a few hours ago when your team arrived to begin setting up and get all of you ready. 
The entire cast now stands stretched out in front of the large screen that will air the movie later, your arms around each other as you smile for the cameras. Promotional pictures shine behind you on the screen, serving as a perfect backdrop as they cycle through their predetermined slideshow.
Eventually, you all disperse to greet some guests. 
"Thank you for coming, Mr. Choi. It's wonderful seeing you again." 
"I hope you enjoy our performances, Mrs. Lee. Your support has meant the world to us." 
"Ah, Jeong! How've you been?" 
Countless faces pass by as you work hard to greet everyone, knowing full well your company will be upset if you slack off now. It's everyone's big night, so they obviously can't have their leading lady stopping for even a minute. 
You're almost ready to run to the restroom in order to have a moment to yourself, free of prying eyes and judgemental stares; but what you hear next sends a chill down your spine, an all too familiar ache in your chest. 
It's Jennie. She's laughing that wonderful laugh of hers, taking you back in time to when you first heard it. Her members must've said something really hilarious, because all of them are doubled over, clutching their stomachs with laughter. 
"Hey again," Jackson greets, and for a second you almost want to tell him to leave you alone. You don't, though, knowing you have no right to pull something like that. 
"YG's girl group just got here. Do you want to say hello?" Of course you do. You want to run into Jennie's arms and spin her around, reveling in the way her arms would surely wrap around you in that warm embrace that's so uniquely hers. You want to tell her a stupid joke to make her laugh again, like she had just a few moments ago. You want to talk to her. 
But you don't.
"No, not right now. I'm going to visit with my family, if that's alright with you." 
"Sure, sure." He says considerately, unwrapping his arm from you. You press a friendly kiss to his cheek as a thank you, letting it serve as a goodbye as well. 
"Eomma!" You shout, squeezing through the crowd when you spot her at one of the banquet tables lining the front of the room. The rest of the space is filled with rows of chairs, already set out for when the movie premieres. 
"Ah, baby girl. We're so proud of you." She says, holding you in a tight embrace as tears spill from her eyes. Her arms bring you comfort like no other, and you're beyond grateful to have her here tonight. Some of your friends stand behind her, too, waiting for their turn to say hello. 
Jennie watches you interact with them from across the room, and she feels a pang of sadness run through her. She's not naive to how these things work: your other cast mates had come over to greet her and girls, snapping pictures and even starting meaningful conversations in some cases -- all of that meaning you had been given the opportunity to do the same, but turned it down. Do you not want to see her? Maybe she had misjudged your night together. You are an actress, after all. 
She shakes her head, physically willing the thoughts to go away as she turns her focus to whatever new person was talking to them now. She continues stealing glances in your direction, finding you looking somewhere else every time. She'd give just about anything to have you look at her, if only for a moment. Just a glance, she thinks to herself, praying the universe hears her pleas. They seem to fall on deaf ears, though, because before she knows it the MC is calling all of you onto stage and the guests are directed to their seats. 
"Let's welcome the cast of Empress of the Heart!" The MC says cheerily, tucking his notecard underneath his arm in order to clap along with the audience. "They've spent months working hard for this project, travelling to filming locations in different countries, learning new languages, and facing their fears. We hope all of you thoroughly enjoy their performances. Now, I'll hand it over to our leads." 
You and Jackson bow towards the audience, waving at them politely as they applaud you again. He looks at you, a silent question of if you want to speak first, and you nod. Taking the mic from him, you say, "Firstly, I'd like to thank our incredible cast and crew. They played just as important a role in this movie as Jackson and I, and we're endlessly grateful for their hard work." More cheers ring out at your kind hearted show of appreciation, and you speak up again once they've died down. 
"These past few months have been some of the best of my life, and I owe that to people like you, and my fans. Thank you for taking a chance on me and supporting me. From the bottom of my heart, thank you." You say sincerely, looking into the camera that's recording all of this for exclusive content. When the movie drops for the public in a couple weeks, they'll be able to buy this tape as well and see highlights from the premiere. The thought of your fans watching it from the comfort of their own homes, yelling praises at their screens, makes you smile. 
Jackson takes over now, smoothly transitioning into his own mini speech of thanks. You stop your eyes from meeting the one pair that they so desperately want to, always keeping them trained on other parts of the crowd. If you allow your resolve to crumble, you'll get lost in her all over again and potentially screw up one of the biggest nights of your life. You can't take a risk like that. 
You laugh at something Jackson says, some joke about how you had to face your fear of heights for a scene in the movie, and Jennie takes a deep breath. She's not exactly jealous, but yet that's precisely the feeling that creeps its way into her chest. She knows that you're avoiding her for some reason, but she has no idea why. Did she do something wrong? 
--------
Why, why, did they have to sit Blackpink in the row right behind you? It's karmic, the universe's way of pushing you back to each other, but you don't know how to feel about it all. You can feel her eyes boring into you as each new scene plays, silently begging for you to turn around and talk to her, even if it's impolite to do so in the middle of a movie.
You don't, though, fighting every fiber of your being to keep yourself from giving in. 
Despite the emotions that swirl within her that pay little mind to the number they're doing on her heart, she actually finds herself enjoying parts of the movie. It's bittersweet, seeing you up there, but you command the screen in a way that seems to steal all coherent thoughts from her brain. You're truly skilled, and she gets a kick out of watching you hide behind your hands in embarrassment when your co-stars offer whispered praises.
During one scene in particular, though, Jennie's eyes drop to the floor, her teeth clenched together tightly. Your character just saved Jackson's from certain doom, and the two of you are sharing a long-overdue kiss. The rest of the crowd lets out approving noises at this, but Jennie is comforted by her members' soft smiles and reassuring touches. You feel guilty, for some reason, knowing that anything you were a part of made Jennie so upset. It shouldn't matter, though -- I mean, it's not like you and Jackson are actually together -- but still, it hurts Jennie to see him kiss you and hold you in the ways she wants to. 
The rest of the night carries on much the same, but later on, once you get enough courage to look for Jennie, she's gone. The other girls are too, and a sinking feeling settles in your chest. Gone -- again -- just like all that time ago. Your reasons for staying away from her were legitimate, but they felt nothing of the sort as you glanced around the crowd again. 
The movie ended earlier, already getting good marks and reviews from the critics who came to view it, and now the "afterparty" of sorts was kicking in. You hadn't expected the girls to stay long after the movie, but you'd at least hoped to utter a word to them, if nothing else. A smile would've sufficed. 
Realizing she's really gone, you let out a sad sigh and make your way down the hall, towards the large doors that lead to the balcony. If anything can clear your mind right now, surely it's a chilly breeze. 
You lay an arm against the sturdy railing, leaning on it as you massage your neck. All of the stress you've been put under is showing in the form of painful knots, far too many to get rid of in one go. You sigh, letting your head lull forward and lay against your arm.
"And here I was thinking I wouldn't see you again."
At the utterance, you turn around to find her leaned up against the stone wall of the building with a playful smirk on her lips. She's back to her old self in an instant, but you can sense the undertones of nervousness in her voice. 
The darkness of the night that envelops you two makes her eyes look even more feline -- even more alluring -- and it takes everything in you not to lose your train of thought. 
"Jennie." Her name comes out as a pleased declaration more than anything else, a familiar flutter taking over your heart at the sight of her. It's a warm feeling in your chest, and you never want it to go away. 
You try not to focus on the sensual swaying of her hips or the teasing look in her eye as she pushes herself away from the wall to approach you. 
"I thought you left." You breathe out, remembering how sad you were earlier. 
"Without getting you alone first? How could I?" The implication behind her words gives you pause, causing a blush to begin forming on your cheeks. You curse yourself for being so easy.
"I've missed you like crazy," she confesses, allowing herself to be vulnerable again. Now in front of you, she brushes the back of her fingertips against your cheek as you look into her eyes. 
"I've missed you, too -- more, probably," you say, the declaration sounding like an embarrassed sigh as it leaves your lips. She smiles at that -- her genuine, gummy smile that you've missed so much -- and your heart flutters again. 
She debates on asking the question that sits on the tip of her tongue, waiting to be answered. "Why didn't you greet me before, at the party?" Her voice is small now, insecure, as she avoids your gaze and stills her movements. 
"I-..." you start, finding yourself at a loss for words. Should you tell her how you feel?
"I was afraid you'd throw me off my game. You're pretty distracting, you know?" You reply, nudging her shoulder playfully. A hint of a smile tugs at her cheeks, unsure if it should finish the job and turn into a big one. 
"I thought I did something wrong." She informs.
"Not at all. In fact, you did things a little too right, if you ask me. I can't stay away from you, Jennie." Her heart trips and stumbles over itself in its pursuit of gaining a steady rhythm again, thrown off course by your words. 
Growing brave, she suggests, "Go on a date with me, then. I wanna have more nights like that with you." She whispers that last part, ghosting her fingertips over your skin to awaken the memories. 
"I'd like that," you smile, leaning in to kiss her lips. It's soft and gentle, much like your first one, and your heart hammers in your chest. It seems to forget that you've done this before, choosing instead to subject you to the giddiness you felt that first time with her. 
She pulls back to rest her forehead against yours, settling her arms around your waist, saying, "I've wanted to do that all night." You smile for the millionth time because of her, happy with how things have turned out.
"Do it again, then." 
And she does. 
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kuroos-babie ¡ 4 years ago
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Falling in Love with a Single Mom HCs
Akaashi x fem!Reader | Daichi x fem!Reader | Oikawa x fem!Reader
[ Headcanons/MiniFic ]
Request:  🥺👉👈 if you could do more single mom headcanon-fic-things LOL SORRY IDK WHAT TO CALL THEM and w/ akaashi, daichi, and oikawa? THANK U i love u and your writing you're so sweet  —anonymous
a/n: okay so strangely enough, i thoroughly enjoyed writing oikawa's and it's probably my fav out of these three 😳 thank u for giving me the chance to write these and thank u for the kind words! i hope u like it 👉👈
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❀ he’s been noticing you more and more — sat on the corner of the cafe he frequents during his breaks
❀ you would always order the same drink and sit on the same table by the window, he would occasionally glance at you, admiring the way sunlight hits your skin and the way the cafe music seemed to be playing solely for you
❀ but you always left too soon for his liking, 15 minutes before 2 in the afternoon to be exact
❀ he never knew where you went or what you did outside of the little cafe he sees you in everyday
❀ but soon enough, he was given a chance
“excuse me, is this seat taken?” 
he saw your eyes look up at him in surprise and your lips curve into a small smile, “oh! no, go ahead”
“sorry for the trouble, i didn’t expect it to be this packed today”, he said in an attempt to engage in small talk
“it’s no problem at all” you assured him with another smile, “i often see you here, do you work nearby?”
❀ the two of you continued to chat until akaashi needed to remind you of the time
❀ but of course before you could even leave he'll ask you for your number saying
"i'd really like to know you more, if that's alright with you"
❀ of course it's alright with you sjckskdks
❀ the two of you would meet at the café everyday, except the weekends — same spot and same time, until it became part of your routines
❀ keiji took his time getting to know you and openly expresses his admiration for you
❀ of course you liked him back, he was sweet and considerate, he was everything you would like in a partner
❀ but you just needed to make sure of one thing before diving headfirst into a relationship
"akaashi-san—"
"keiji", he corrected, reaching out for your hand
the warmth of his hand helped eased your nerves of bringing up something that may potentially be a huge deal breaker
"keiji, we've been meeting for a while and i thought maybe it's time i tell you,"
❀ when you said you have a daughter, you never would've expected him to say "can i meet her?"
❀ you almost cried then and there— it had always been a big deal to the guys you met before, you being a single mother
❀ keiji sensed your relief and squeezed your hand in reassurance that it really was no big deal to him
❀ well it was, but it wasn't something that would easily shake up his resolve of being with you
❀ meeting your daughter for the first time was set in the same café, on a saturday half past noon
❀ he smiled seeing the quiet four year old on your lap, curious eyes and a small smile as he held out the little bunny plushie he got for her as a gift
❀ weekend café dates became frequent with the three of you and soon became home dates— alternating between your and keiji's apartments
❀ your daughter loved when he read to her, having her sat on his lap with a picture book in his hands
❀ more often than not, you would catch him fast asleep on the couch— picture book on the floor and your child snuggled up against his chest
❀ during these moments, especially, you couldn't help but imagine spending every day with them both without having to part ways by the end of it
❀ and of course, when he wakes up, keiji can't help but think the same thing when he wakes up to you smiling softly at him and the little girl who kept a part of his heart inside her tiny little hands
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❀ your son met him first
❀ he just got out of the police academy and was assigned near the elementary school gates
❀ kids would often come up to him with fascination in their eyes
❀ and it wasn't a different case with your seven year old son
"hey mister are you a policeman?"
"sure i am, why do you ask?" he answers with the softest smile, crouching down to the child's level
"that's so cool! mom said my dad was a policeman, maybe you're my dad?"
he watched the boy's eyes widen in realization and he couldn't help but chuckle
"sorry, bud, but i don't think i have a child yet neither do i have a wife"
"well do you want one?"
❀ that effectively painted his cheeks in red, standing straight up and ruffling the boy's hair, urging him to go straight home
❀ everyday your son would come up to him to ask him the same questions and saying the same things
"would you want to be my dad?"
"i think it'll be sooo cool to have you as my dad"
"let me ask my mom if you can be my dad"
❀ jesus help this man pls
❀ he found it all to be endearing and soon enough he looked forward to chatting with your son for a few minutes every afternoon on his way home from school
❀ your child would always brag about how nice you are, how pretty, and just how amazing of a mom you are
❀ an amazing lil wingman if u ask me
❀ it wasn't until one of his day offs that he met this wonderful mom that he always heard of— and boy was he stunned
❀ he was out grocery shopping, skimming the aisles when he heard the familiar voice of your son
"mama, it's the policeman i was talking to you about!"
before you even had the chance to react, your child bolted through the spice aisle and cling to this man's leg
you quickly caught up to him and was about to apologize to the stranger when you saw him get to your child's level and pat at his head
"oh hey, didn't know i'd catch you here"
"i'm with mama! now you can see just how pretty she is!"
❀ the comment made both your faces heat up but even moreso when daichi looked up at you, absentmindedly muttering a "she is"
❀ your son had the proudest grin on his face >:)
❀ the three of you went out for lunch then which you insisted to be for all the trouble your son has caused him— who so conveniently disappeared to the playhouse to leave you two to yourselves
❀ it didn't take a lot for daichi to be absolutely smitten by you— admiring how you could handle a child and a job all by yourself and still managing to have that pretty smile on your face
❀ he had to thank your son his little accomplice the next time they have their afternoon chat
❀ and maybe start planning on "Operation Get Mom and Daichi-san Together"
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❀ started as students sharing a class and later on became inseparable best friends
❀ you two met in college
❀ tōru would rave on and on about how much better you were than "iwa-chan" whom he never lets you see during their facetimes bec you "might fall for him and choose iwa-chan over me"
❀ he was there to witness you going out with an orgmate, there to listen about the first time you got laid, and of course he was there to comfort you when your ex left the moment you told him you were pregnant during your third year in college
"do you want to keep it?"
tōru held you close as you cried, his soft voice mingling with your sobs
"i d-don't know"
you buried your face on his chest, prompting him to hold you tighter and rub comforting circles on your back
"whatever you choose to do, i'll be here", he promised "i won't leave you"
❀ the moment you decided to keep your baby was the moment it was decided that oikawa would co-parent with you
❀ during your pregnancy, he came to your apartment everyday and stayed over on weekends
❀ he kept his promise and never left your side even after you gave birth
❀ he practically moved in with you, staying up late at night to care for your child so you could get some rest, he changed schedules and skipped classes to let you continue going to yours
❀ it was alright, he said, afterall a pro volleyball team was already eyeing him— he was set even before graduation
❀ the both of you fell into a steady rhythm of domesticity
❀ eating breakfast together, taking turns changing your daughter's diapers, cuddling in the same bed and having sleepy conversations about the future and how you're both thankful of the other
❀ it was never established what you two were— you just knew that you were each other's constant and that you promised to stay with the other until god knows when
"what're you planning to do then?"
"i don't knoooow~ iwa-chan help me out here~"
"well, for starters, you should go and tell her— y'know, about argentina"
there was a moment of silence between the line, tōru mulling over his options
"i don't want to leave her" was his quiet reply
"i know you don't, but this opportunity may never come by again, don't let it slip"
❀ it was a few weeks before your graduation, your daughter now more than a year old, when he received the call inviting him to play for argentina
❀ on one hand he knew it was the chance of a lifetime, but when he looks at you in his arms with your daughter on your chest, he couldn't even think about leaving you
❀ it was less about the promise he made and more about how he couldn't imagine his everyday without the two of you
"y/n-chan~"
you only hummed in response but looked up to meet his eyes
"if i were to get invited to go to the other side of the world to play volleyball, would you come with me?"
he held your gaze with hesitation
"i'll go anywhere with you, tōru, i thought you knew that by now"
a small smile of relief graced his face as he exhaled, closing his eyes and rubbing his face against yours, "thank you"
the next few moments were spent in comfortable silence before he broke it with a chuckle, "is it too late now to ask you to be my girlfriend?"
"tōru, we're basically a married couple for the past two years"
...
...
...
"so will you marry me for real?"
1K notes ¡ View notes
dennymilkus ¡ 4 years ago
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pt.2: things the team does for/with a fem teammate
wow! y'all really loved these so I felt inspired before my major test today so here is some more😌eat up. most of these ended up being about sleepovers, pictures, and mortifying period moments but some are just random!
see pt.1 here! and pt 3
contains: Karasuno team
After getting to know the team a little better, you feel super comfortable talking and you really feel like you're all one big dysfunctional family!
When the team has team sleepovers, Daichi has to have a talk with the boys that if any one of them makes you uncomfortable they will feel his w r a t h.
When they set up sleeping matts in the gym, they let you either sleep next to the managers or closer to the boys, depending on how comfortable you are with that.
So when it's time to sleep Tanaka and Noya bounce right up to you, smiling so wide, it almost hurts you to see their faces fall (because Hinata has already asked you to sleep next to him)
Whenever you want to take pictures Suga is ON IT with the angles and lighting.
Want to take a cute selfie for a crush you have? He forces the 2nd years to turn on their flashlights for good lighting.
Want to take some bomb ass photos with the other managers? He is posing and positioning you and crouching and stretching (see: bending over backwards) to get that perfect picture.
And when you want to take a selfie with the team? Asahi offers to use his long arms to hold the phone far enough away to get in everyone.
When you go to take a selfie with the first years, and can't get you arm to fit everyone in, Tsukishima rolls his eyes and takes the phone, but raises it a little too high and ends up getting a that middle aged mom angle. does it on purpose sometimes too.
Kageyama does NOT know how to smile so the most you can get out of him for a picture is just 😬. He's trying you guys.
(just a warning, period stuff for the next like, 3 bullet points))
I can imagine this very specifically but one time you were on your period, and during break at practice you went to grab a tampon out of your bag, and it fell out. No biggie, except Noya was behind you and had the entire Playtex Sport™ commercial memorized and started saying it behind you! You were mortified! Literally refused to turn around and just ran to the bathroom 🏃💨
But Kiyoko, Yachi, and you have mastered a sneaky handing off system where you roll your sleeves up and slip the pad/tampon through the other persons sleeve.
Kageyama saw one time and figured it out so he just deadass asked you what you were doing. You had to explain to him what a period was. He apologized after that.
After saturday practices at lunch or when buying snacks, Daichi always offers to pay for you; you of course tell him no (or maybe you don't and let him buy the onigiri for you), but you always appreciate the offer and tell him that.
If you ask one of the 2nd years to grab something from your (wallet, pencil case, phone) they first ask what pocket it is and oh so gently stick their hand in as to not grab something by accident that you didn't want them to
Tanaka offers you a piggyback ride almost every single day. When you say yes, he is ECSTATIC and ends up sweeping you up bridal style to show you how strong he is.
Noya tried it (because he wanted to prove that he was big and strong) and Suga ON VIDEO got Noya trying to pick you up and buckling under you, sending both of you to the floor. Tsukishima has never and will never shut up about it. Hinata tried it one time too! didn't go so well either.
When Tsukishima starts to tease Noya and Hinata about it, you challenge his skinny ass to pick you up thinking he'll realize his noodle arms aren't any better. To prove his point, he bends over for you to hop on his back, rolling his eyes of course saying "of course it's easy for me, i'm-" "CATCH ME" when you jump on him he's taken aback and almost falls forward! catches you tho and rubs it in the shorties' faces.
You milk this opportunity of course😈(idk abt y'all but the first time I got a piggyback from a tall person i was starstruck that they could see over other people's heads) and order him to go walk around with you so you could assert dominance and because you were generally amazed this is how he saw the world. cue the "damn bitch you live like this?" and him saying "yes im not an oompa loompa" cue smack on his little blonde head
Anyway, this started a teamwide tradition of the shortie squad™ and others to jump at people on the team and scream "CATCH ME", expecting them to catch you.
The game is so fun and all is well until Noya screams "CATCH ME" and Tanaka, who knocks into Ukai who's drinking a scalding cup of coffee. The game was fun while it lasted.c
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hopefulobjectmiracle ¡ 4 years ago
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wearing the smile you gave me
This fic was prompted by a sweet anon, and I decided to dedicate it to my dear friend @randomcanbian because I love her. I know the next few days will be hard for you, and I hope this makes your week a little less difficult 💕
Pairing: Brittany S. Pierce/Santana Lopez
Prompt: “My shirt is way too big on you...but it’s cute”
Words: ~2.3k
Additional Info: Fluff, Canon Compliant, Married!Brittana, Future Fic. 
Read on AO3
-
Brittany wakes to the soft sound of snoring. The clock next to her bed reads 6:04 AM, but it’s still dark outside.
She rolls over in her bed and breathes a sigh of relief. Santana had gotten home last night, safe and sound. Not that she wouldn’t have, but New York is a dangerous city; one that the two of them hadn’t spent much time in together prior to their wedding. And so Brittany couldn’t help but worry about her anyway. 
It’s been four months since the wedding, and married life has been treating them well. They've settled into their new apartment fairly seamlessly, and have been taking classes at Columbia together just like they always planned. Santana would never admit this to Mr. Schuester, but his ‘hunch’ from way back when had turned out to be right - she really did want to go into law in order to make a difference in the world. Preparing for law is difficult, but Santana is loving that she gets to have such an important goal. Brittany is taking classes part-time in the math department, spending most of her time training at the Paul Taylor Dance Company. 
It’s not easy, though. Santana often works late nights at the diner to earn extra money - late nights that keep Brittany up worrying about her. Occasionally, like yesterday, their schedules don’t overlap and they aren’t able to spend time alone together. There are bills to pay, classes to attend, and responsibilities that neither one would have ever dreamed of as a teenager. And yet - it’s perfect, because it’s the two of them. Brittany thinks that her teenage self would be damn proud of where they are today. 
Now, Santana lies next to Brittany, her dark hair fanned out across her face and her features lax with sleep. Brittany smiles as she traces a finger across Santana’s cheek. This is her Santana, hers alone; the soft, sweet girl that no one but her ever gets to see. And Brittany gets to spend the rest of her life with her. She gets to wake up every morning to that beautiful face, spend her entire day loving this incredible woman, and go to sleep every night knowing that Santana will be right next to her. 
Forever. 
This thought alone sparks Brittany’s every nerve, and is enough to send Brittany stumbling out of bed, deciding that she isn’t going to be able to fall asleep again before sunrise. Four months in, and it’s finally hit her on this dark, cold morning - this is it. This is forever with the girl she loves. 
She quickly smoothes the blankets over Santana, presses a soft kiss to her forehead, and all but sprints to the kitchen of their tiny condo. Lord Tubbington, whom Brittany hadn’t even realized was awake, uses this as an opportunity to climb onto their dining table, attempting to make himself at home in their fruit bowl. 
“Quiet, you!” Brittany whispers. “Don’t be an asshole, Santana needs her rest.” Lord Tubbington hisses at her, and Brittany sighs and picks him up, depositing him on the kitchen counter. He mewls in protest, and she jabs her finger at him. “Behave. My wife needs sleep, and I will not have you and your gang ruining it.” She sneaks a glance back into the bedroom. Santana is thankfully still asleep, and Brittany breathes out another sigh of relief. She turns back to Lord Tubbington and says, “I’m keeping an eye on you, mister.”
Brittany leans forward and opens a couple of cupboards mindlessly, unsure of what to make for her wife’s breakfast. It’s a rare free Saturday morning, and she is not going to let it go to waste when she can do something special instead. She sifts through the ingredients they have in their fridge, making a mental note to stock up on bagels. Brittany sighs. She wishes that NYC had at least one Breadstix - she isn’t really the best cook, and Santana only deserves the best. 
Still, Brittany thinks Santana will appreciate anything Brittany makes for her, because she knows that what really matters to Santana is that Brittany loves her enough to make an effort. Even if that effort results in burnt lasagna. Which is an event that Santana has sworn to never bring up again. 
Brittany shakes that thought away. Santana’s had a hard week, and Brittany needs to do everything in her power to make it better. She spins around the kitchen again and grabs the recipe book they keep on the counter. She flips through it, landing on a page with a list of Italian recipes. She scans the pasta section, hoping to find something easy enough to make. Raviolis, farfalle, fusilli...
Fettuccine Alfredo. Bingo. 
Brittany thinks back to her wedding, when Kurt and Blaine burst out laughing when that dish was served for dinner. Apparently, when Sue had locked them in that elevator - a scheme that Brittany had no involvement in, thank you very much - Sue had slipped them a basket of Breadstix food, including a recipe for the pasta. A couple of weeks ago during a drunken night out, Kurt had been so gracious as to share it with Brittany, and ever since then, she’s had it in her back pocket; an ace up her sleeve that she had forgotten about until now. It’s Santana’s favorite, and Kurt’s recipe is simple enough that even Brittany can’t screw it up. 
Brittany takes out her phone and scrolls through her pictures until she finds the recipe. She sets the phone on the counter and gets to work, pulling out the noodles, parmesan cheese, garlic, butter, and cream. She turns the stove on, placing a pot of water on the burner. As she’s boiling the water, Lord Tubbington climbs up next to her, knocking her phone off in the process. 
“Damn it, I told you to stay away,” Brittany snaps, making a shooing motion at Lord Tubbington. She crouches down and looks at her phone, checking to make sure that no damage has been done. 
On the screen is now a photo of the night Santana came to visit Brittany at the dance studio, complete with a big bouquet of flowers. That had been one of the most magical days of her training at the studio, and Santana being there had only made the night better. Brittany picks up her phone and beams. Not for the first time tonight, Brittany is made aware of how lucky she is to be able to have this life with Santana. She places the phone onto the counter again and begins grating the cheese. 
Hours later, Brittany is stirring the alfredo sauce on the pan, contemplating the possibility of a four-dimensional cube within the macroscopic universe, when Santana comes padding into the kitchen. “Hey,” Santana says, startling Brittany out of her reverie. 
“Hi!” 
“Mmmm...that smells so good,” Santana says, stroking Brittany’s arm and inhaling the scents of garlic and cream with a sleepy grin on her face. “What’re you making?”
“It’s a surprise,” Brittany sing-songs. “And good morning, honey,” she says, giving Santana a kiss on the cheek. Santana yawns and rubs her eyes, her hair sticking in every direction. It’s the most gorgeous thing Brittany has ever seen, and - oh. 
This is new. 
Santana is wearing Brittany’s MIT shirt. The oversized one that Brittany used to throw on daily when she was at the school. The one that was her only source of comfort so far away from home; the one that she put away after reuniting with Santana because she simply didn’t need it anymore. 
Now, it somehow looks even better on the person that is Brittany’s forever home. The shirt hangs loose on Santana’s diminutive frame. She’s not wearing anything under it, and that makes her look even more appealing than Brittany had ever thought a T-shirt would look on any one person. 
“You’re wearing my shirt,” Brittany says wonderingly. 
“Yeah, babe, is that okay?” 
“Okay? I...” Brittany is at a loss for words. She slides her hands down Santana’s lovely arms and yanks her in for a kiss. She cups Santana’s face, holding her close and keeping their foreheads pressed together after they break the kiss. 
“I’m going to take that a yes,” Santana says, grinning as she pulls back. 
“You look incredible,” Brittany breathes. “You have no idea how much I-”
A loud noise goes off right then, making both girls jump. Brittany hurries back to her saucepan, pouring its contents into a bowl. 
“What exactly is that?” Santana says, peering over Brittany’s shoulder. Brittany spins around and covers Santana’s eyes.
“No, Santana! It’s supposed to be a surprise,” Brittany says, steering Santana away from the stove. 
“I want to help you,” Santana says, attempting to push past her back into the kitchen. “You don’t have to do this all by you- ”
“No can do, honey,” Brittany says, sweeping her hands down Santana’s back and hoisting her up from underneath. 
“Britt - ah - what!” Santana yells as Brittany picks her up. She struggles to get out of Brittany’s arms. “Put me down!”
“Sorry,” Brittany says, adjusting Santana in her arms. She walks over to the bedroom and deposits Santana onto the bed, sending her tumbling into the mattress. “You stay here until the food is ready.”
Santana faux-glares at her from where she’s sprawled on the bed, and then sighs in defeat. “Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too.” Brittany leans in and kisses Santana’s forehead. “Stay here.” 
Brittany races back to the kitchen, pouring the sauce over her noodles and sprinkling the remaining cheese over them. She takes out the orange juice from the fridge, removes the muffins from the microwave, and neatly arranges everything onto a tray. She carries the tray to the bedroom, careful not to trip over Lord Tubbington’s now-sleeping form. 
Santana’s face lights up when she sees Brittany, and she gasps in awe as she takes in the breakfast Brittany made. Santana ducks her head, bashful and so, so cute. “Britt,” she says, smiling softly. “You made all of this for me?”
“Only the best for you, babe.”
“How did you do it? I thought...” Santana trails off. “You’ve always said that you can’t cook. But you made my favorite meal for me.”
“A chef never reveals her secrets,” Brittany says, winking at her. She makes a mental note to thank Kurt at their next night out. 
“Oh, yeah?” Santana teases. She leans in closer. “And what else does this mysterious chef do?”
“Right now, she just wants her wife to eat her breakfast,” Brittany says.
Santana rolls her eyes. “Okay, okay. But you need to come eat with me.” She sets aside the tray and draws back the covers, gesturing for Brittany to join her in the bed. Brittany crawls in and tucks herself against Santana, pulling the blankets back over them. Santana sets the tray on their knees and hands her a fork. The two of them sit in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, taking turns feeding each other small bites of the food; just relishing in each other’s company. 
“You know what?” Brittany says suddenly. 
Santana swallows down a bite of pasta. “Hmm?”
“This shirt that you’re wearing…” Brittany reaches out and gently fingers the fabric. “This is what I used to wear when I was away. I don’t know why, but it would always make me feel safe. It helped me when I was isolated from you and all of our friends. It made me feel less alone.”
Santana nods her head in understanding. “So, how come you don’t wear it anymore? It’s pretty badass, and I bet you looked so cute in it. It’d be perfect for late nights when I’m at the diner.”
Brittany shrugs. “I don’t need it now. I have you to make me feel safe. Even when you’re not here physically, I have the knowledge that you’re my wife,” she says, showing off her wedding ring. “You believed in me when no one else did, you supported me through everything that happened before MIT, and you even managed to figure out that I wasn’t happy and got me the hell out of there. Why would I need some old shirt when I have you, my darling wife, to keep me safe?”
Santana grabs Brittany’s hand and kisses it. “You make me feel safe too, Britt,” she says earnestly. “Life is so, so hard sometimes, and you make me feel like it’s okay to just be myself in a world that doesn’t always like me.” She looks down and presses her lips together. “Growing up, I never thought I would have that. I always thought I’d marry a man, and he’d sit around judging me on everything I did.” 
Brittany winces, remembering how heartbroken Santana was for most of their high school years and how long she’d had to struggle with her feelings. She remembers too, how her own heart broke every time Santana recited a hypothetical future with some nameless man, knowing that it would never make her truly happy. 
“I never thought I’d be able to feel so free and so loved,” Santana continues. She cups Brittany’s cheek. “But here you are,” she says, grinning helplessly. 
“Here I am,” Brittany agrees, bringing their lips together in a soft, slow kiss. Brittany tries to pour all the love in her heart into that kiss, hoping that through the kiss, Santana will feel even a fraction of the infinite love Brittany holds for her. 
“And I’m going to stay with you, Santana. I’m going to love you and make you feel like this for the rest of your life.”
“I’m going to do the same for you, Britt.”
As they lie together, talking, kissing, loving one another, their stomachs so full, their bodies so comfortable, and their hearts so happy, Brittany thinks once again that this is really it for them. 
This is forever, and Brittany wouldn’t have it any other way.
56 notes ¡ View notes
visd3stele ¡ 3 years ago
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magic and kids
summary:
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A/N: I really hope you like it. Thank you for your requests. Loved writing it.
art credit: @phantomrin
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TW: none
@britishbookworm2 requested (if you want to leave a request as well, click)
masterlist
°•▪︎~▪︎•°
It's been four years since Taryn decided the mortal world would be a more suitable place to raise her child than Elfhame. Even if her sister was now High Queen, the fairies would still make life hard for her and her baby. Maybe not on purpose, she admits it. But magic runs wild, free and unstoppable. Used to it, the Fae Folk barely notices the dangers. And frankly, they don't care. Not allowed to use it on humans as cruelly as before, some meaner courts claim innocent ignorance. How can an entire society of enchanted beings change overnight? How could they be expected to adjust to human fragility all of a sudden?
So Taryn took her baby, promised her sister to visit and fled to Heather and Vivi's. It wasn't as hard as she'd thought. Getting used to the mortal world, that's it. And if her baby had longer canine than normal, or his ears sharpened to pointy edges to the top, it passed unnoticed. Her son certainly didn't stood out the way Vivi did, even with light brown eyes that looked orange in the sun and rusty red hair. He didn't need much glamouring either, not like Oak, Oriana or Madoc. By the time she sent him to preschool his hair was long enough to cover the ears and no one seemed to notice the teeth even without magic.
For all the talk Taryn did on how she wanted her son to be free of his father in all ways, snapping at Oak when the boy tried to teach him magic before he knew how to properly walk and forbidding her family to bring Fairyland up, she named him Renard.
Fitting, though not what she should have done. Maybe part of her can't let Locke go, not entirely. She knew he didn't particularly wanted the baby, that everything he promised her were pretty lies. But for a few months, it has been real. Their marriage, their love, their lives. She saw her dreams come true, one after another: the mistress of an important household, throwing parties for courtiers, motherhood.
Now that everything she wanted snaped broken in tiny little pieces carried away by harsh winter wind, Taryn Duarte couldn't phantom having her child become like his father.
"It has nothing to do with magic, for fuck's sake!" Vivi exploded once, after Taryn better than not threw Oak and Oriana - who came to visit - out of the apartment for trying to reach Renard's magic. "He won't become a sly, selfish fox if he can change appearance or grow horses out of leaves. It's all about his up-bringing!"
"I want him to be normal, Vivi! That's why I took him here!"
Renard has been barely one year old when the argument happened. But it was enough to take his mother's words to heart.
°•▪︎~▪︎•°
Four years old Renard and twelve years old Oak played outside, jumping in crusty piles of autumn leaves. The princeling hadn't given up his plans to teach his cousin magic. He refused to let go of such opportunity: a friend he didn't have to hide of, one he could play with like he used to in Elfhame.
"Hey, Ren-Ren," Oak said, "check this out!" The older boy held up his hand, brows furrowed in concentration, lip grazed between his teeth. Nothing happened for an alarming amount of time. And then... the leaves twirl around the two cousins, splashing then with guts of wind and scarce dew as it swept them up in a friendly tornado.
Renard chuckled in delight, stretching to catch some of the closer leaves. But as soon as he touched one, the whole thing fell apart. "No!" Do it again, Oak. Do it again."
"I'm sorry, Ren-Ren," Oak faked a yawned and laid on the ground. "Magic is very serious business. Very consuming. I'm too tired to even move." He let his eyes close dramatically, watching Renard between his lashes. Truth be told, every time he did magic Oak felt good. Vibrant. As if the earth itself reached out and gave him life. But Renard didn't need to know that yet. He can definitely learn it by himself if Oak's plan works out.
The younger boy pouted and dropped on the ground. "Not fair," he muttered to himself.
"You know, Ren-Ren, you're half fae. That means there's a pretty good chance you're magic too."
"No, I'm not."
"You can't know that. Come on, give it a try!"
"No, Oak! I'm not magic. I'm not like Father, I'm like Mom. Like Mom, just like that."
Oak straightened himself, but didn't rose from the ground. "Ok, Ren-Ren. Listen up. Magic is not bad. It's fun. Don't you think it's fun?"
"Yes!" Renard nodded enthusiastically. "It's super fun. When you do it, Oak." At that the named boy own enthusiasm faded away in an instant.
"Thank you, Ren-Ren," he deadpanned. "But do you know what's more fun than watching me practice magic?" Not giving the kid a chance to answer, to even take in the question, really, Oak said "To do it yourself."
"Do you really think I should try, Oak?" Clearly, the little boy was attracted to magic. And clearly something was stopping him. But his older cousin slowly made whatever that was seem less big and scary, dragging him along in his qualms.
"Totally!"
Renard pushed his lips forward with his tongue, sticking it out through the gap in his teeth. Caramel eyes shone with desire, his red hair flown around by a cold, pleasant wind. "Ok," he gave in, as expected. "How do I do it?"
The smirk that lightened up Oak's face can only be describes as evil. Though no ill intention hid behind it. Only the knowledge his plan worked out, just like his sister, Jude's.
"Listen to me very carefully, alright? There is not just one way to make magic, Ren-Ren. You have to find your own. But for now, try the basics. Think really hard on what you want to happen. Something easy. Got anything in mind?" Renard frowned, then his eyes landed on a tree which still had some green leaves on its branches and nodded.
"Perfect! Now, imagine whatever you want to happen. Imagine it happening. Are you imagining?"
"Yes."
"No!" Oak groaned. "If you're paying attention to me, then it means you're not focusing on magic."
"But how will I know what to do if I don't listen to you?"
"I told you! Magic is your own, Ren-Ren. It comes naturally. So, dig it up. Use your imagination."
Renard tried to shut out the world around him, picturing the sole tree in his mind. A warm pull tugged at him and he followed. His magic, he tried not to dwell on the joy, but instead focusing on his practice. His magic reaching out. Because he reached out first.
The boy allowed the warmth to take control, guiding him through it. The tree now carved in his mind by detail wasn't enough. He needed action. But just imagining the leaves to fall wouldn't do. Renard couldn't say how exactly he knew it. He just did. Something more tender was needed. The half fae kid had to imply what he wants and trust his magic to follow his lead.
So Renard made himself cold. Chilly. Feeling a breeze of wind creeping inside his clothes, whipping his skin gently. Enough to rip a leaf off a tree, though. Which it did. The wind he summoned couldn't be felt, not really. Only by himself and the green leaves that departed one by one from their branch as if plucked by an invisible hand.
Oak gasped. Then grinned. And then he laughed. Renard broke free of his concentration, pleased to see his magic didn't falter. Not until every and each green leaf from his chosen tree didn't fall. The sight made him still in awe for a couple of seconds. But soon enough he joined his cousin with a bubble laugh, jumping up and down and running to tackle Oak in a tight hug.
"I did it, Oak! I did it!"
"Yes, you did, Rem-Ren. Indeed, you did. Congrats!"
"Can we show auntie Vivi? And auntie Oriana?"
When Madoc and Oriana first came in the mortal world, Taryn wanted nothing to do with them. But years of being cared for by the blue skinned, white haired, pink eyes woman showed their tale. She agreed to see her, but only her. She could be part of her child life, if she wanted.
"Sure. But don't you want to show your mom first?"
"Mom and auntie Heather work a lot. We can show them later." Renard said, but he felt his magic shrinking at the thought of his mother. His Mom didn't like his father. And his magic comes from his father. Is that why his magic doesn't want to reveal itself near Taryn? He hoped it was just him overthinking it, because he loves his Mom and wants to share this with her.
°•▪︎~▪︎•°
Oak stayed with auntie Oriana, who was his mother, so Renard couldn't bring himself to be upset over it. He would want to be with his mother as much as he can as well. So he did a little trick for auntie Vivi, who told him to stay where he was, brought a camera and ordered him to glamour the tea cups again. Renard made them look like pumpkins, since the Halloween being over the corner made him impossibly anxious - in a good way.
Turns out even mortal technology can be fooled by fae's magic. Vivi showed the clip to Heather, who coed over him until Taryn came home.
"Hello, treasure. How was your day? Wanna give mommy a kiss?"
Renard jumped into his mother's arms, pressing a strong kiss on her cheek before starting to tell her about all the fun he had with cousin Oak. "And then he said I should try magic too."
Tamryn stilled. "And?"
"Look, Mom!"
Renard broke a vase, then, with a twitch of his fingers put it back together. "Auntie Vivi says I'm a natural."
"Does she? That's amazing, sweetheart."
But his mother didn't sound thrilled. In fact, her smile wasn't even a smile at all, but a thin line. "I'm sorry, mommy. I knew I shouldn't've done it, but I didn't know why. Now I know: you don't want me using my magic. It'll make me bad, like father."
Renard pushed his lips up front, scrunched his nose up, wiggled his toes, all in an atempt to stop the tears hurting his eyes from falling. When he realized it was in vain, he took off running to his room.
When Taryn entered minutes later she found her son curled on his left side in the middle of the bed, hugging a black goat plushie his uncle Cardan gave him on his birthday tight to his chest. She hated herself for causing the pain struck look on her son's face.
"Hey, sweetie."
"Hi, Mom." Renard wiped his nose with his jumper's sleeve.
"I'm so sorry, sweetie. Mommy was just scared, but that's not your fault. You could never be bad. Magic is not bad. Of course you can practice all you want, but we'll settle some ground, basic rules first. Ok?"
"Really?"
"Rules you can never, ever break. Really."
"Thank you, Mommy! You're the best! Just wait until Oak hears about it."
A/N: Renard means fox in french. Also: oops, guess I finished it earlier than expected and didn't really felt like waiting days to post it 😅
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