Nothing dramatic happened after the company meeting. No new incidents. No frantic calls from legal or security. On paper, everything should have felt calmer. Controlled. Resolved, even. But there was something about the aftermath that made every hour feel a little suspended, like life had resumed but not fully landed back into place.
Selina and I still went out. We had too much left to see in Seoul to let one chaotic night lock us indoors. And besides, staying inside with our thoughts would have been a far worse punishment than braving the city.
So we kept moving.
We wandered through side streets lined with cafés and tiny vintage stores. We took our time in bookshops and stationery shops for no reason other than they were there and looked pretty. We stopped for street food in places where the line looked trustworthy. Selina made dramatic noises over hotteok. I made fun of her for acting like she had never eaten sugar before. She reminded me that I had nearly cried over how good the tteokbokki broth was the day before, and I had no real defense against that.
On the outside, it looked normal.
On the inside, it was messier.
Because while Seoul kept moving like it always did, the people in it had shifted ever so slightly around me.
Or rather, two of them had.
Jungkook had gone quiet.
Not gone, not rude, not cold. Just… quieter.
The first day after the company meeting, I noticed it in the smallest ways. No message from him in the morning. No silly picture of Bam doing something that looked human enough to deserve its own commentary. No casual check-in disguised as a joke. The kind of things that had slipped into my day so naturally I had stopped treating them like something unusual.
At first I told myself he was busy. That it made sense. Everything that had happened because of us being seen together had shaken things up. He probably had schedules again. Managers hovering. More eyes on him than before.
Still, at some point that evening, while Selina was in the shower and I was sitting cross-legged on the bed with my charger wrapped around my fingers, I opened my messages and looked at our chat.
Nothing new.
The last messages were still the ones from the night before.
After Tae and Hobi had dropped us home, after the apartment had gone quiet and I had spent far too long staring at the screen, I had reached out first.
Hana - Bam’s previous owner: Hey. Just wanted to say we got back okay. And… thank you. For everything earlier.
I had almost deleted the last part.
Didn’t.
Sent it anyway.
His reply didn't come immediately. And when it finally did, it had been so short it made something in my chest sink before I could stop it.
Kook - Bam’s new owner: Glad you got back safe.
That was all at first.
I had stared at the message for a while, thumb hovering over the screen as if something else might appear if I just waited long enough. Eventually I had locked my phone and set it down beside me, telling myself not to read into it. That he was still at the company. That he was probably exhausted. That the whole day had been too much for everyone.
Then, a few minutes later, the screen had lit up again.
Just one more message.
Kook - Bam’s new owner: I’m sorry.
That was it.
No answer after that. No continuation.
It shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did.
But somehow it did.
Now, sitting there with the same chat open again, I found myself staring at his contact for a few seconds longer than necessary before locking my phone and setting it face down on the mattress, just before Selina came back out and could ask questions I was in no mood to answer.
The second day, he still didn’t message and by then I had started doing something deeply embarrassing, which was checking our chat without even realising I was doing it. I’d open my phone to reply to someone else, and somehow my thumb would hover there first. Over his name. Over the stupid little contact picture of Bam half-turned toward the camera with his tongue out like a child being forced to sit for school portraits.
By the end of that day, his chat had slipped lower in my list.
Not because anything had happened between us.
But because life kept going. Messages from home had started stacking up again too. My brother had sent a string of updates that ranged from mildly important to completely unnecessary. My university group chat had picked up as well with notifications from my research group, questions about timelines, someone asking if I had seen a paper we’d been discussing before I left.
Small things.
Normal things.
So yes, his name drifted lower.
Organically.
Quietly.
And every time I noticed it, something in me tightened a little.
Not because I had any right to expect more.
Just because the silence itself felt like something.
Joon, on the other hand, didn’t go quiet.
Not immediately.
The first text from him after the meeting didn’t come until later that same evening. Selina and I had just come back from grabbing dinner somewhere near the apartment, both of us too exhausted to do more than kick off our shoes before collapsing onto our respective beds. My phone lit up on the duvet beside me, and I almost ignored it, assuming it was my brother again. Then I saw his name.
Joon.
I sat up a little straighter before opening it.
Joon:
I’ve been thinking about earlier today more than I probably should have.
Not just the situation itself, but the way it unfolded, the way it was handled, and the position it put you and Selina in without any real preparation or choice. I know you said it wasn’t my fault, and logically I understand that. There are too many variables in situations like that for any one person to be responsible for all of it.
But responsibility doesn’t always follow logic.
As the leader, I’ve spent a long time trying to understand where my role begins and where it should end, and I’ve come to realise that those boundaries aren’t always clear. Sometimes they blur into something more instinctive than defined, and I find myself feeling accountable for things simply because they happened within the space I’m meant to protect.
That doesn’t make it fair.
And it doesn’t necessarily make it rational.
But it does make it difficult to step back and say, “this part isn’t mine to carry.”
What happened today is one of those things.
Not because I think I could have prevented it entirely, but because I can’t ignore the fact that you were drawn into something that exists because of us. Because of the way our lives are structured, the way they’re observed, and the way that observation sometimes turns into something invasive.
You didn’t choose to be part of that.
And yet, you handled it with more composure than most people would have, especially given how suddenly it all happened.
I also want to acknowledge the NDA.
Not in the way the company framed it, but in the way you responded to it.
There’s a difference between understanding necessity and being comfortable with it, and I don’t think those two things should be treated the same. You were asked to make a decision in a moment that didn’t give you much space to process it, and even if the outcome was expected, that doesn’t make the situation itself ideal.
So thank you.
Not just for signing it, but for the way you navigated everything around it.
It made a difficult situation easier, not just for the company, but for us.
And I don’t think that should go unrecognized.
I also hope that none of this has shifted your perception of being here, or of us as people rather than what surrounds us.
It would be unfortunate if one moment overshadowed everything else.
Then, while I was still processing all of that, as if he’d hesitated before deciding to send the rest, another message came through.
Joon: And maybe this is selfish to say, but I’d also hate for it to overshadow whatever this has been between us so far, even if neither of us has figured out what to call it yet.
I read the last line twice.
Then a third time.
The room around me had gone strangely quiet. Or maybe it had always been that quiet and I had only just noticed because everything in me was elsewhere.
Selina propped herself up on one elbow from the other bed, instantly catching my face.
“What?”
I looked up at her, then back down at the screen.
“Joon messaged.”
“Well?” she asked, already sounding too awake for someone who had been half-dead thirty seconds ago. “Read it.”
I bit back a small laugh. “I’m not reading all that out loud.”
“Then summarise.”
“I can’t summarise it.”
“That bad?”
“That… sincere.”
Selina’s expression shifted at that.
“Oh.”
I handed her the phone before I could overthink it. She read in silence, slower than she usually did, her eyes moving more carefully over the messages. By the time she finished, she handed it back with the kind of face people made after being unexpectedly emotionally jumped.
“Okay,” she said slowly. “That man does not text like a normal person.”
“No,” I murmured, looking at the screen again. “He really doesn’t.”
She crossed her legs, fully awake now. “Are you going to reply?”
“I have to.”
“Well, yes. But like… what are you going to say?”
That was exactly the problem.
Because what do you say to someone who lays himself out in paragraphs like that?
I stared at the blinking cursor for longer than I should have, typed one version, deleted it, typed another, deleted that too.
In the end, I went with something that felt like me. Or at least as much like me as I could manage while feeling the weight of his words still settling inside me.
Hana: You really know how to make someone stare at their phone for ten minutes before replying.
A few seconds passed.
Then he liked the message.
That helped.
I continued.
Hana: Thank you for saying all of that. And for saying it the way you did.
You’re right that responsibility doesn’t always follow logic, but that doesn’t mean you need to keep picking up every difficult thing just because it happened near you.
What happened was overwhelming, yes. But I never blamed you for it. Or any of you.
If anything, I think what stayed with me most after everything settled was how human it all felt underneath the mess. Just… people trying to handle too much at once in the best way they knew how.
As for the NDA, I understood why it was needed even if the moment itself wasn’t ideal. I signed it because I didn’t want things to become harder than they already were. Not for me, not for Selina, and not for either of you.
So no, it hasn’t shifted my perception in the way you seem to fear it has.
And for what it’s worth, I don’t think one difficult moment gets to erase all the good ones before it.
I paused there.
Then, before I could stop myself, I added:
Hana: And I don’t think I know what to call “this” yet either. But I don’t think it deserves to be reduced to one bad day.
I read it once.
Twice.
Then hit send before I could lose my nerve.
The three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then disappeared.
Then came back.
Joon: Thank you. That means more than I can say properly over text.
Joon: And thank you for not letting me carry all of that alone in my head.
I smiled at the screen before I could help it.
Selina saw it and groaned dramatically, falling backward onto the bed again.
“Great,” she said to the ceiling. “You’re smiling at your phone now. We’re done for.”
I threw a pillow at her.
***
The next day after the meeting, Hoseok and Taehyung had also checked in. Not in some big “how are you coping after legal drama” way. Just…casually enough that you could miss the care in it if you weren’t paying attention.
My phone buzzed mid-morning.
Hoseok: How are the Seoul girls today?
Then, not even ten seconds later:
Taehyung: Alive?
Selina, who was sitting across from me snorted.
Selina: Debatable.
I leaned back against the headboard, typing.
Hana: Recovering. Emotionally and physically.
Tae replied this time with a photo.
A small dog curled up, half-asleep, completely unbothered by the world.
Taehyung: This is Yeontan. He says hi and is here to make everything better.
Selina immediately leaned over, grabbing my arm.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“I love him.”
I huffed out a quiet laugh, eyes still on the screen.
Hana: Okay, that’s unfair. You can’t just introduce him like that.
Taehyung: First impressions matter.
Hoseok: He’s trying to win you over early.
Selina: It’s working.
Taehyung: As expected.
Selina: No, actually now I trust you less. You’re using him.
Taehyung: This is slander.
I smiled slightly before typing.
Hana: It’s a little strategic.
Taehyung: You too?
Selina: See?? Exposed.
Taehyung: I thought Hana was more reasonable.
I paused for a second, then typed:
Hana: I am. That’s why I can recognise such strategies.
A short pause.
Taehyung: I’m starting to question that.
Hoseok: You’re losing this, Tae.
Taehyung: I disagree.
The conversation softened after that, settling more naturally into place.
Hoseok: What are you two doing today?
Selina: Tourism. Survival. Existing.
Taehyung: Very ambitious.
Then, after a short pause:
Hoseok: Still heading to Busan soon?
Hana: A few more days here, then Busan. Then back home after that.
Tae replied first.
Taehyung: Already?
Selina: Sadly, yes. We aren’t rich, Tae.
Taehyung: Tragic.
Hoseok: We’ll be leaving Seoul soon too. Going to Jeju for a few days to spend some time together with the members and with family before things get messy with Jin’s enlistment and other prep. But you can still keep us updated with anything going on here!
Hana: That makes sense. I hope you all get some proper time together before everything changes.
There was a slightly longer pause than usual.
Then:
Hoseok: Thanks, Hana.
***
Two days after being in Hybe, Jin’s enlistment had become impossible to avoid. Not in a sensational way, at least not from where we were standing in it. It felt more like a collective turning of attention. As if Seoul itself knew how to lower its voice when something inevitable and heavy was approaching.
Screens in subway stations flashed headlines. Café conversations paused around the topic. Even the online noise had shifted. Whatever tiny sparks of speculation might have clung to the blurry photos from the sasaeng incident had been completely swallowed by bigger, more real news.
Buried deep.
Gone.
Which should have made me feel relieved.
Instead, I just felt strange. Like something private had vanished before I’d fully understood what it had been.
That evening, Selina and I met up with her friend group again. This time at a restaurant near the river, one of those places with too many side dishes and the kind of warm, loud atmosphere of people all around you.
Aera was the first to spot us walking in.
“Oh my god,” she said, pointing at us dramatically. “There they are. The women with secret lives.”
“Please don’t,” I said immediately, sliding into the booth.
Nabi leaned across the table, eyes bright with poorly concealed curiosity. “So? Are you going to tell us how things have unfolded so far with the group?”
Selina gave them all a pointed look. “Hush.”
Seon-Jae, to his credit, actually lowered his voice. “We’re serious, though. Are you guys okay?”
“We’re fine,” I said, reaching for the water. “And that’s all you need to know.”
Aera narrowed her eyes slightly. “That sentence just confirms there is something dramatic happening.”
“It is dramatic,” Selina admitted before I could stop her. “Too dramatic. And it got out of hand a little. We even had to sign NDAs.”
Silence.
Then all three of them leaned in at once.
“No way,” Nabi whispered.
“Yes way,” Selina whispered back.
Aera clutched her chest. “This is insane. This is actual drama-life. This is the kind of thing people lie about on the internet for attention.”
“Which is exactly why you’re all going to keep your voices down,” I muttered.
Aera held up both hands. “I swear. I’m not trying to get you in trouble.”
Then, because she was still Aera, she added:
“But this is the kind of thing you only hear in stories. Like, who even has to sign an NDA on vacation?”
Selina pointed at me. “Apparently my sister.”
I kicked her under the table earning a yelp.
The conversation drifted after that, just as I had hoped it would. Back toward coursework, exchange prep, campus nonsense, and whatever new influencer-ish event Aera had gotten invited to through a brand collab she pretended not to care about but clearly cared about very much.
***
It had been three days since we signed the famous paper when Joon texted again.
I was the first one awake, sitting by the window with my hair still half-tangled and a cup of convenience store coffee that was far too hot to drink properly. Selina was still asleep, one arm thrown over her eyes like the world had personally offended her by starting so early.
My phone buzzed against the table.
I reached for it lazily.
It was a photo.
A familiar muted book cover propped up against a dark dashboard. This time I could see more of the interior around it, the edge of the passenger seat, a blurred glimpse of movement outside the window, enough to tell he was in a car, not alone, probably somewhere in between places. Moving. On his way to Jeju, if I had to guess.
Joon: Felt like rereading it today.
A second message followed almost immediately.
Joon: How far into Almond have you gotten? And how are you finding it?
I smiled before i typed:
Hana: Not as far as I wanted. Seoul has been a bit… distracting.
Joon: That’s one word for it.
I laughed softly under my breath, careful not to wake Selina.
Hana: I like it though. It’s quieter than I expected. More restrained. It doesn’t try too hard to tell you what to feel and somehow that makes it hit harder.
His answer came after a short pause, the kind that suggested he was actually thinking rather than just replying.
Joon: That’s exactly what I liked about it the first time. It trusts silence more than most stories do.
Joon: I think I needed that this morning.
I leaned back into the chair a little, looking out at the pale sky beyond the window before answering.
Hana: Rough morning?
Joon: Not rough. Just reflective.
Joon: Maybe that’s worse.
Hana: Only for people who think too much.
Joon: Then I’m doomed.
The conversation flowed more easily after that.
Not heavy exactly, but quieter than teasing and a little more intimate. He asked which parts had stood out to me so far. I told him I liked how loneliness in the book didn’t feel theatrical, just constant. He said that was probably the most honest version of it. I told him that was a deeply depressing thing to say over morning coffee. He said sorry, then followed it up with or maybe very on brand? and I had to bite back a laugh.
At some point the topic drifted, naturally, like it always seemed to with him.
From books to cities.
From cities to travelling.
From travelling to Jeju.
Joon: Have you ever been?
Hana: No. The closest I’ve gotten is over-romanticising it through dramas.
Joon: Dangerous.
Hana: You say that like Seoul hasn’t already been ridiculous enough.
Joon: Fair point.
Joon: Though I still think it’s funny that you somehow ended up in a group chat with Hoseok and Taehyung out of everyone first.
I stared at the message for a second, amused that he somehow knew of Seoul Line’s existence.
Hana: Selective membership, apparently.
Joon: I noticed.
Hana: Are you jealous, Dimples?
There was a pause long enough for me to regret sending it.
Joon: A little, maybe. But I’ll survive.
My stomach betrayed me with a ridiculous little drop that had no business happening over text.
I tried to recover.
Hana: Good. That’s not a headline I’m prepared to deal with.
Joon: I’d hate to go down like that.
Then, a few seconds later:
Joon: Still, if they get exclusive access to your chaotic travel updates and I don’t, I might eventually take it personally.
I smiled harder at that than I should have.
And that was exactly when Selina groaned awake from the bed behind me.
“Why,” she muttered into the pillow, “are you smiling before noon?”
She rolled onto her back, one eye opening suspiciously. “Is it Dimples?”
I gave her a staredown and she cackled.
***
By the next afternoon, we were on our way to Busan.
We boarded the last train in the evening. Both of us were tired enough to be quieter than usual, our energy flattened in that post-packing, post-travel-day way where conversation came in smaller pieces.
Selina scrolled through her phone for most of the ride. I tried to read and failed. Then I tried to stare out the window like a thoughtful person in a film and mostly just saw my own reflection looking more tired than profound.
At some point, I opened my messages again without meaning to.
Kook’s chat was almost at the end of the screen now.
It shouldn’t have struck me as much as it did.
I locked my phone again before I could linger there too long.
***
By the time we reached Busan, the station was quieter than I expected for that hour but not empty. Tired travelers, a few families and people moving with the sluggish purpose of those who had somewhere to get to and very little energy left for getting there.
Selina yawned as we wheeled our suitcases outside.
“Okay,” she said. “New city. New energy. No idols. Just us, a nice place to stay, and some ocean air.”
I shook my head and proceeded to get us a lift to our accommodation.
The drive to the Airbnb was long enough for both of us to stop talking. By the time we got out in front of the building, we were too tired to do anything but follow the directions from the app and hope the check-in process would be simple.
It wasn’t.
Because the building in front of us was not remotely the one in the photos.
And the access code for the apartment number we had didn’t work.
After three increasingly annoyed attempts, Selina took a step back, looked at the door, then at her phone, then at me.
“…Hana…”
“No.”
“I think we got scammed.”
I stared at her.
Then at the building again.
Then back at her.
“No.”
“I’m serious.”
She held the phone out to show me the listing page was no longer loading properly. The host profile had vanished. The earlier message thread was still there, but now every new message sent through instantly failed.
A slow, cold dread crawled its way into my stomach.
“You’re joking.”
“I wish.”
We called.
No answer.
Messaged.
Nothing.
Looked for nearby alternatives.
Everything was booked.
It turned out there was some event in the city and the few last-minute rooms left anywhere remotely central cost more than what we’d paid for the entire stay so far.
At one point Selina just laughed. Not because it was funny. Because the alternative was screaming.
“This cannot be happening.”
“It is happening,” I said, trying not to panic and failing a little.
“There has to be something.”
“There’s nothing.”
“What about going back to Seoul?”
I already knew the answer before she asked.
I checked anyway.
Then I looked up slowly.
“There’s no train until the late morning.”
She stared at me for a full second.
Then tipped her head back toward the sky.
“Of course there isn’t.”
We ended up sitting on our suitcases near the edge of the pavement like two deeply underprepared idiots in a cautionary travel vlog. The reality of it settled in layer by layer.
No accommodation.
No train back.
Too late to figure much out.
Too tired to think clearly.
And then, as if on cue from some invisible writer with terrible boundaries, our phones buzzed.
Taehyung: How’s Busan?
We both stared at the message.
Then at each other.
Then back at the phone.
Selina barked out a laugh so suddenly it startled even herself.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
I let out a breath, still staring at the screen. “That timing is actually insane.”
She gave me a look. “Right?”
Then she typed.
Selina: You ask that without knowing we’re currently going through it.
Almost instantly:
Taehyung: ?
Selina: Long story short, I think we got scammed by our Airbnb host and now we have nowhere to stay.
The reply came so fast he might as well have been holding the phone.
Taehyung: What?
Then another.
Taehyung: Are you serious?
Before any of us could answer:
Hoseok: What happened?
Selina briefly summarised. I watched over her shoulder while she typed, too tired to stop her and too relieved that someone was reacting to it in real time to care.
When she finished, there was a longer pause than usual before the next test.
Hoseok: Okay no. You’re not staying stranded there.
A second after that:
Taehyung: Yeah, come to Jeju.
We both stared at the message.
Then another one came from Hobi.
Hoseok: Seriously. We’ll sort it out.
Selina looked at me slowly. “This feels fake.”
“It does.”
Hoseok: It’s just us seven here now. The others who were around earlier already left. And Jin doesn’t mind, before you ask.
Which of course was exactly what I had been about to ask.
I typed before Selina could answer for both of us.
Hana: We don’t want to intrude. Especially now.
A few seconds passed.
Then Hoseok replied:
Hoseok: You wouldn’t be intruding.
And Tae, right after:
Taehyung: You can count it as compensation for all the unfortunate events. And to restore the reputation of Korean people after your scammer Airbnb man.
Despite everything, I laughed.
Selina saw it and immediately pointed. “That’s how they get you.”
I shook my head, still staring at the screen.
Hana: You’re both ridiculous.
Taehyung: And helpful.
Hoseok: Mostly helpful.
Selina bit her lip, thinking. “Can they actually do that?”
“I don’t know.”
She looked at me, then at our suitcases, then around at the very real fact that we were sitting outside with nowhere to go.
“Honestly?”
“What?”
“I think being rescued by rich celebrities is exactly the kind of resolution this trip would make for us.”
I let out a tired laugh. “That is not a reassuring way to phrase it.”
“But am I wrong?”
Unfortunately, she wasn’t.
The practical part of me still hesitated. Because there were other people there. Because it was Jin’s farewell trip. Because we had already been pulled into enough of their world by accident and force; voluntarily stepping into it again felt different.
I typed carefully.
Hana: Are you completely sure? This is meant to be time for you all together before everything changes. We really don’t want to impose on that. We can just wait at the station and catch the first train back to Seoul in the morning. You guys letting us vent about all this is more than enough.
A few seconds passed.
Then Hoseok answered first.
Hoseok: Hana, if we didn’t want you here, we wouldn't have said anything to begin with. We’re saying come. And we’re saying NO to that plan.
Another message right after.
Hoseok: It will be freezing. You’re not staying at the station all night.
Tae followed almost immediately.
Taehyung: Absolutely not. That’s not happening.
Selina glanced at me, eyebrows lifting slightly.
My phone buzzed again.
Not the group chat this time.
Taehyung.
I opened it.
Taehyung: Stop being stubborn and just say yes.
I blinked at the screen.
Then another message:
Taehyung: Seriously.
Something about the bluntness of it made me huff out a small, surprised laugh.
Before I could answer, the group chat lit up again.
Hoseok: And Jin genuinely doesn’t mind.
Taehyung followed up:
Taehyung: He literally said “bring them before they actually end up sleeping at the station.”
Hoseok: *A voice note* There was a brief shuffle of movement, then Jin’s voice came through clear, unmistakable, and slightly amused.“Just tell them to come. It’s fine. Why are they even thinking about it?” A faint laugh in the background. Then the audio cut. Silence.
Selina slowly turned to me.
“…Well.”
I stared at the phone for a second longer.
Then exhaled.
“They’re not going to let this go.”
“No,” she said. “They’re really not.”
I glanced back down at the chat.
Hana: …okay.
Taehyung: Good.
Hoseok: Sending details in a minute.
A message from Tae followed almost immediately after with instructions that were somehow both vague and alarmingly specific. A driver would take us to a smaller helipad because arranging a late-night commercial route would take too long. We were not to worry about the cost. We were also, in his words, “not allowed to refuse further because that would be annoying.”
The next hour moved so fast it didn’t feel entirely real.
A car picked us up.
A man whose expression suggested he had seen stranger things than two tired foreign girls with suitcases being rerouted across the country at night loaded our bags without question.
Neither Selina nor I spoke much on the way. We were both too exhausted, too confused, and too deep in that post-crisis adrenaline dip where everything felt weirdly floaty.
At some point halfway there, my phone buzzed again.
Not the group chat this time.
Joon: Heard about Busan. You two okay?
That simple question landed with more warmth than I expected.
Hana: We’re okay. Or we will be, apparently. Your friends are efficient.
His reply came quickly.
Joon: That sounds like them.
Joon: See you soon, I guess.
I stared at that line for a second, a little helplessly.
Then typed back:
Hana: Looks like it.
I hesitated before sending one more.
Hana: Sorry in advance for arriving unexpectedly, hopefully we don’t ruin the vibe.
He took slightly longer to answer this time.
Joon: You won’t ruin anything. Just like in Seoul, I don’t think you showing up has ever been a bad thing.
***
By the time we got to the helipad, the wind had picked up. A staff member guided us through quickly and efficiently, clearly under instruction not to explain more than necessary. Everything after that blurred slightly.
The sound of the blades.
The rush of night air.
Selina gripping my arm once when we lifted off, then pretending she hadn’t.
The dark stretch below us broken by city lights and eventually by long swathes of black where the sea took over.
Neither of us talked much during the flight. There was something about being suspended over dark water on your way to a place you had not intended to be, to see people you had not expected would become this woven into your trip, that made words feel insufficient.
I looked out the window and thought, not for the first time, that this trip had stopped making sense days ago.
And yet somehow it kept feeling more real instead of less.
When Jeju finally came into view beneath us, scattered with lights and edged by darkness, Selina leaned slightly closer just to look out too.The landing was smooth and the sudden quiet after the blades slowed felt almost jarring.
Then the door opened.
Cool air rushed in.
And there, just beyond the edge of the landing area, beneath the yellowish spill of exterior lights, were two familiar figures beside a jeep.
Taehyung was leaning against the side of it with his hands in his jacket pockets like he’d been waiting all evening and found the whole thing deeply entertaining.
Hoseok stood beside him, already waving the second he spotted us.
Relief hit me so quickly and so unexpectedly it almost felt stupid.
Selina let out a disbelieving little laugh under her breath as we stepped down with our bags.
“This,” she said, taking in the jeep, the island air, the two men waiting for us like this had always been the plan, “is actually insane.”
Taehyung pushed off the jeep as we came closer, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“See?” he said. “Perfect timing.”
Hoseok stepped forward, already reaching for one of my bags before I could protest.
“Welcome to Jeju.”
Selina looked between them, still half in disbelief.
“You two just… do this regularly? Fly people across the country when their accommodation falls through?”
“Only for special cases,” Hoseok said easily.
Taehyung tilted his head slightly. “You qualified.”
Selina blinked. “That doesn’t feel reassuring.”
“It should,” he said.
I shifted my bag on my shoulder, then hesitated for just a second before speaking.
“…Thank you.”
It came out quieter than I expected. But both of them caught it anyway. Hoseok’s expression softened immediately.
“You don’t have to thank us.”
“We kind of do,” Selina said, gesturing vaguely behind us toward the helipad, the island, the entire absurd situation. “This is not normal levels of help.”
Taehyung didn’t argue.
He just reached for her suitcase, lifting it before she could protest and walking it over to the jeep like it had already been decided.
“Hey, careful,” Selina said, following him. “That’s my entire life in there.”
“I’ll try not to drop your entire life,” he replied, glancing back at her.
She narrowed her eyes.
He set the suitcase in the back, then stepped around and pulled open the rear door, holding it there with an ease that felt just a little too deliberate to be accidental.
Selina paused, looking at him, then at me.
“…Okay,” she said quietly. “I like this.”
She climbed in first.
I followed a second later, slowing just slightly as I passed him.
“Thank you,” I said, even softer this time.
For everything.
For the ride.
For this.
Taehyung’s gaze flicked to mine, something amused settling there.
“Anytime,” he said.
Then, as I moved to step in he did a military salute followed by:
“Tete to the rescue.”
I huffed out a quiet laugh despite myself.
He gave a small, almost playful wink before closing the door behind me.
By the time I settled into the seat, Hoseok was already in the driver’s seat, adjusting something on the dashboard while Tae slid into the front passenger side.
“Everyone good?” Hoseok asked, glancing back at us.
Selina leaned her head back against the seat. “Define good.”
Hoseok laughed softly. “Good enough.”
He started the engine, the low hum of it settling into the quiet around us.
“Alright,” he added easily, pulling the jeep forward, “let’s get you to the house before Jin-hyung starts calling and asking where we disappeared to.”
The jeep rolled away from the landing area, the lights behind us fading as the road stretched out ahead, darker and quieter, the cold island air still slipping in through the edges of the windows.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
<- Previous | Series Masterlist | Next -> TBA
There was a faint smell of fabric softener and someone moving quietly in the kitchen that was trying to pull me back to consciousness. For a few seconds I didn’t open my eyes. I just stayed still, caught in that strange, floating space in between, trying to make sense of what felt unfamiliar. A couch. A blanket tucked around me. A room quieter than mine and much bigger. And then the memories returned one by one, slotting back into place with alarming ease.
The sasaeng.
The running.
The alleyway.
Dinner.
The movie.
Jungkook.
My eyes opened slowly.
Morning light spilled softly through the huge windows of his living room, painting pale shapes across the floor. The galaxy lamp was off now, looking much less magical and a lot more like an expensive toy when not scattering stars over everything. Bam was already awake, lying stretched out on his bed in the corner, one eye half-open and lazily watching me like he had personally supervised my sleepover.
And there, on the floor beside the couch, a spare mattress was neatly made except for the very obvious dent of where Jungkook must have slept.
My chest tightened in a quiet, strange way.
He really stayed there the whole night.
Before I could dwell on that too much, he appeared from the kitchen carrying two mugs and wearing a black T-shirt and black sweatpants, hair slightly messy, face still soft with sleep despite the fact that he had clearly already been awake for a while.
“Oh, you’re up,” he said, voice low and warm in that dangerous, first-thing-in-the-morning way. “I was trying not to wake you.”
I pushed myself upright, blanket still around my shoulders. “How long have you been awake?”
He set one mug down on the coffee table in front of me. “Not long. Maybe twenty minutes.”
I looked at the mattress again before I could stop myself. His gaze followed mine and his mouth twitched a little, like he knew exactly what I was wondering.
“You passed out pretty hard,” he said. “Didn’t feel right waking you, or leaving you alone.”
I wrapped my hands around the mug to hide the way that simple sentence affected me more than it should have. “You know, for an international heartbreaker, you’re alarmingly considerate.”
He huffed out a laugh, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Don’t start this early.”
Bam stood up then, stretched dramatically, and padded over to me first, naturally, shoving his nose into my side. I laughed and scratched behind his ears.
“Traitor,” Jungkook muttered under his breath.
I looked up over the rim of my mug. “You’re jealous of your own dog again.”
“I’m not jealous,” he said immediately.
“Sure.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but his phone buzzed on the floor beside him. One glance at the screen wiped the sleepiness off his face. He picked it up and stood.
“It’s my manager.”
The way his shoulders tensed made the room seem smaller.
He answered quickly, stepping toward the windows, and though his voice stayed low, I could still catch enough to understand the general direction of the conversation.
“Yes, hyung… We’re still here… No, she’s fine… Right now?... Okay.”
He ended the call and stayed facing the window for a second longer before turning back to me. The playful ease from earlier had dulled into something more serious.
“They want us at the company this morning,” he said.
“Us?”
He gave a short nod. “Apparently everyone’s already there or heading there. They want to go over what happened last night before anything gets worse.”
I set my mug down slowly. “How bad is it?”
He exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair. “Worse than they wanted, better than it could’ve been.” He leaned against the wall next to the window, trying to sound casual and failing. “A few pictures got posted. Mostly blurry, mostly from a distance. They’re already being reported and taken down, but the company wants to move quickly in case anyone starts connecting things.”
My stomach dropped a little. “Pictures of me?”
“Not clear ones,” he said quickly, as if he’d been expecting that exact question. “My manager said your face isn’t visible in most of them, and the ones that are a bit clearer are being handled first. They’re also checking nearby CCTV and tracking the accounts that posted. They’re not taking this lightly, Hana.”
I nodded, but some of the tension must have still shown on my face because he softened immediately.
“Hey.” He approached and crouched slightly so he was at eye level with me. “You’re okay. Selina’s okay too. Tae and Jimin stayed at yours last night.”
That made me blink. “Did they really stay?”
He gave me a small, crooked smile. “Let’s get ready to leave then, my brother’s going to stop by and pick Bam up for a few hours too” he said. “Or at least stay with him until I’m back. I don’t want him alone after all the chaos from yesterday.”
The mention of that softened something in me too. Even with everything hanging over us, he was still thinking about Bam.
“Good,” I said. “He deserves emotional support after being dragged into a celebrity scandal.”
Jungkook snorted. “He’d probably ask for chicken as compensation.”
“He’d deserve it.”
We got ready quietly after that. There was no awkwardness, not really, just a strange new carefulness between us, like both of us were aware that the night before had shifted something and neither of us quite knew what to call it yet. Jungkook lent me a different hoodie, this one a little less oversized than the one I’d fallen asleep in, and while I changed I texted Selina. Her reply came almost instantly.
Selina: I’m alive. Tae and Jimin are with me. They look way too comfortable in our apartment. One of them ate our good snacks.
I laughed out loud in Jungkook’s bathroom and had to bite my lip to keep from laughing harder when she followed up with:
Selina: Guess which one.
By the time I came back out, Jungkook had clipped Bam’s leash onto him even though he wasn’t going anywhere yet, probably out of habit more than necessity. A knock sounded at the door soon after, and when Jungkook opened it, a man who resembled him enough around the eyes to make the family connection obvious stepped inside. They exchanged a few quick words in Korean, Bam happily weaving between both of them.
Jungkook crouched to pet Bam one more time. “Be good, okay?”
Bam wagged his tail once and then, with the unbelievable lack of loyalty Jungkook often accused him of, came over to nudge my hand too.
Jungkook rolled his eyes, though his mouth twitched. “Come on. Before we are late.”
***
When we stepped out of the private elevator onto the floor they’d directed us to, the first thing I saw was Selina at the far end of the corridor, arms folded, looking deeply unimpressed while Taehyung leaned against the wall beside her and Jimin sat in one of the waiting chairs scrolling through his phone.
Selina spotted me first and made a beeline for me.
“Oh my god, finally,” she said, pulling me into a hug before immediately holding me at arm’s length to inspect my face. “You’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“I promise.”
She leaned in slightly and lowered her voice. “You smell like man detergent.”
I stared at her.
She grinned.
From behind her, Jimin laughed so suddenly he had to cover his mouth. Taehyung, meanwhile, looked between us with open curiosity before his gaze landed on Jungkook over my shoulder. Something passed silently between the two of them, not exactly tense but not nothing either.
“Morning,” Taehyung said to me, then to Jungkook, “You look terrible.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook deadpanned.
Jimin stood and gave me a quick warm smile. “We stopped by your apartment around midnight and didn’t leave until we knew Selina was settled.”
Selina rolled her eyes. “By ‘didn’t leave’ he means they invited themselves to stay.”
Jimin lifted a hand and pointed at Tae without hesitation. “That was him.”
The sound that escaped Selina was half laugh, half offended gasp, and in any other situation I might have enjoyed the ridiculous normality of it more fully. But before any of us could say anything else, the conference room door opened.
Namjoon stepped out.
He looked tired in a way that had very little to do with sleep. Not dishevelled, never that, but quietly worn around the edges. He met my eyes briefly, something unreadable flickering across his face before he composed himself.
“They’re ready for us,” he said.
Inside, the room was already occupied. Hoseok was there near the far end of the table, Yoongi seated beside him with a coffee in hand, Jin by the windows talking quietly with a woman in a navy suit, and another two men seated near a screen that had been set up at the front of the room. One looked like legal counsel. The other looked like someone from PR or crisis management. All of them turned toward us when we came in.
For one surreal second, the absurdity of it all threatened to hit me at once. Yesterday I had been hiding in Jungkook’s alley with his body pressed against mine while a sasaeng ran past. Today I was in a glass-walled conference room with all seven members of BTS and a legal team.
Selina, to her credit, somehow looked less shocked than I felt. She just gave the room one sweeping look and whispered under her breath, “Well. This is definitely a weird pre-study-abroad vacation."
I had to hide a laugh behind my hand.
The meeting started gently enough. One of the lawyers introduced himself, then the woman from PR. They thanked us both for coming and, to my surprise, apologized first before saying anything else.
“We know this is not a situation either of you chose,” the woman said. “And we want to make something very clear before we go over details: your safety and privacy are being treated as priorities.”
That did ease something in me.
The screen lit up behind them, showing a collage of screenshots. Blurry images. Posts. Cropped frames from videos. One of them clearly showed Jungkook and Bam from a distance. In another, a figure beside him, me, presumably, was visible enough to identify as a woman but not enough to distinguish much else.
“We’ve had most of the original uploads flagged within hours,” the PR woman continued. “The larger fan accounts that began reposting have already been contacted indirectly through monitoring teams, and several posts are down. At present, there is no confirmed identification of either of you.”
She clicked to the next slide.
“However,” the lawyer took over, “there are enough visual indicators for speculation to continue if this is not managed properly. Which is why we are asking for discretion on all sides and offering legal protection where needed.”
He laid out the steps in detail. Digital monitoring. Takedown requests. Tracking repeat offenders. Internal reporting to security teams near the relevant properties. Temporary adjustments to schedules if needed. A promise that if either Selina or I felt followed, harassed, or photographed again, the company would be notified immediately and act on it through their security network.
The thoroughness of it all was both reassuring and a little terrifying.
At one point they showed a zoomed image from a CCTV still near Jungkook’s building entrance. The sasaeng’s figure, phone in hand, head turned toward us as we ran. My stomach turned.
Hoseok must have noticed because he leaned forward a little and said, “They’ve got her face already. Security’s working on the rest.”
Yoongi nodded once. “She won’t get close again.”
It was so matter-of-fact that I believed him.
Then came the confidentiality agreements.
The moment the folders were placed in front of Selina and me, Jungkook straightened beside me.
“No.”
The room went still.
The lawyer looked up. “Excuse me?”
“They shouldn’t have to sign anything.”
Namjoon, who had stayed quiet up until then, shifted his gaze toward him. “Jungkook.”
But Jungkook kept going.
“They didn’t ask for this. They didn’t follow me. They didn’t leak anything. Why are they the ones signing legal documents?”
The PR woman answered carefully. “This is not punitive. It is standard protection in situations involving internal matters, private locations, and ongoing risk.”
“It still looks like pressure.”
His tone wasn’t rude, but it was firm enough to make the air in the room tighten.
Jin looked between him and the legal team, visibly debating whether to jump in. Jimin and Taehyung, who had been sitting near the side wall after walking us in, exchanged a glance. Even Selina sat a little straighter.
Namjoon stepped in then, voice calm, leader-mode settling over him like a coat he knew too well.
“No one is accusing them of anything.”
Jungkook turned to him. “That’s not what this feels like.”
Namjoon held his gaze. “It’s what keeps everyone safe.”
There it was again, that undercurrent I’d felt between them since this morning.
And maybe because I had seen both of them outside their public selves now, maybe because I knew just enough of what sat under their words to hear it, I caught the extra layer neither of them was saying aloud.
This wasn’t just about the company.
This was about me.
I reached for the pen before either of them could push it further.
“Hana,...” Jungkook started.
“It’s okay.”
I looked at him first, then at Namjoon, then back down at the document.
“I understand why you need it,” I said quietly. “And if this helps keep things clearer and easier for everyone, I’ll sign it.”
Selina watched me for half a second longer, then gave a tiny sigh and picked up her own pen. “Same. But if we’re becoming legally bound to BTS secrets I at least expect VIP concert tickets.”
That earned a soft snort from Jin, which broke the tension just enough.
I signed.
Then Selina did too.
The lawyer collected the papers and moved on, but the room felt different after that, looser on the surface, tighter underneath. Jungkook leaned back in his chair and folded his arms, jaw set. Namjoon rubbed a hand slowly over his mouth and looked away.
The rest of the meeting moved into specifics. The security team would have someone check near our rental for the next couple of days. We were told not to post any location-tagged content in real time. If we needed transport, arrangements could be made discreetly. If we noticed anyone lingering near places we were staying, we were to let the company know immediately.
Only after all of that did the conversation finally begin to loosen into something more human. Jin offered us coffee. Hoseok asked if we’d eaten. Yoongi mostly observed, but when Selina asked if this kind of thing happened often, he gave her a long look over his cup and said, “More often than it should.”
That quiet honesty hung in the room more than any polished explanation had.
By the time the meeting ended, everyone seemed pulled in different directions. Staff came in and out with schedules. Yoongi was first to get called away, then Jin. Jimin and Namjoon were both stopped by someone from management near the door. Selina and I stood off to one side of the room with Jungkook, Taehyung and Hoseok, hovering in that awkward in-between moment before people dispersed.
“We can take you girls home,” Hoseok offered easily. “No point having you travel back alone after all this.”
Taehyung nodded. “Yeah. We’re free for a bit.”
Jungkook’s eyes flicked toward me and then away. There was something restrained in him now, like he was intentionally holding himself back. Respect. Conflict. Maybe both.
Before I could answer, Selina said, “Honestly? Home sounds good.”
But Hoseok glanced at the time and then at Tae. Something unspoken passed between them.
“Actually,” he said slowly, “before home…”
Taehyung grinned.
“You guys hungry?”
Selina looked at me immediately. I looked at her. We both answered at the same time.
“Yes.”
That was how we ended up in the back of a very discreet car instead of on our way home, with Hoseok in the front seat and Taehyung turning around every so often from beside the driver to keep the conversation going.
“Is he always this impulsive?” Selina asked, jerking her thumb toward Hoseok.
Hoseok gasped theatrically. “This is not impulsive. This is hospitality.”
Taehyung nodded solemnly. “He’s right. Also we’re all hungry, and hungry people shouldn’t make emotional decisions.”
“That sounds made up,” I said.
“It’s true,” he said, looking directly at me. “I get dramatically sad when I’m hungry.”
Selina snorted. “That I believe.”
The place Hoseok took us to was tucked away on a side street, hidden behind a very plain exterior that gave away nothing. Inside, though, it was warm and intimate, with wooden tables, dim lighting, and enough privacy that it felt like the kind of place people only found through word of mouth.
“A friend of mine owns it,” Hoseok said as we were led to a semi-private booth at the back. “Good food, no nonsense, and nobody bothers us here.”
Menus were handed around. The second Selina opened hers, she looked personally offended.
“Why are there so many good options?”
Taehyung leaned across slightly. “That’s your first mistake. You don’t choose one thing.”
Hoseok nodded approvingly. “Exactly.”
“We order half the menu,” Tae added.
“That cannot be the official strategy,” I said.
“It absolutely is,” Hoseok replied. “Especially if you’re with him and Jungkook.”, immediately making him notice the shift and cough the awkwardness away.
I tried to study the menu but got distracted by the number of dishes and the Korean names I half recognized and half did not. Taehyung noticed immediately.
“You want help?” he asked.
I looked up. “Please.”
He shifted a little closer, angling his menu toward mine so he could point things out. “This one’s good if you want something warm and not too spicy. This one looks innocent but lies to you. This one is great but only if you’re in the mood to suffer a little.”
I laughed. “That is a terrible way to explain a menu.”
“It’s effective though,” Selina said without looking up. “I already trust him more.”
Hoseok put a hand dramatically over his heart. “Unbelievable. I brought you here and this is the thanks I get.”
“You can earn points back by ordering for the table,” Selina said.
“I was already going to.”
True to form, that was exactly what happened. After some debate, teasing and a brief argument about whether Tae’s appetite should legally count as two people, Hoseok ordered a spread big enough to feed at least six. Tae added one extra dish under his breath when Hoseok looked away, then pretended innocence when he was caught.
“What?” he said. “I’m thinking of the group.”
“The group doesn’t need more fried food.”
“The group absolutely does.”
The conversation over the table gradually softened, moving away from the stress of the morning. Hoseok had a way of doing that naturally, pulling people into lighter things without forcing it. He asked about our trip so far, though carefully, as if aware that some memories now carried unexpected baggage. Selina ended up recounting the hanbok day at the palace, complete with her imitation of me trying to direct her for photos like I was a fashion editor. Tae nearly choked laughing. I retaliated by bringing up the way Selina had almost screamed on one of the rides at Lotte World.
“I did scream,” she corrected. “And proudly.”
Hoseok grinned. “That’s the spirit.”
When the food came, conversation paused just long enough for all of us to admire the table. There was grilled fish, bubbling stew, multiple side dishes, crispy pancakes, marinated meat, rice, vegetables and something Tae had insisted we needed that turned out to be exactly as good as he’d promised.
For a little while it really did feel normal again.
Just four people eating lunch.
Trading plates.
Passing side dishes around.
Arguing over who got the last piece of pancake.
At one point Tae noticed me reaching for the water at the same time he did and pulled his hand back immediately. “Go ahead.”
I gave him a small smile. “You can have it.”
“I’m being a gentleman.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“That too.”
Hoseok looked between us with the beginning of a knowing smile and wisely chose not to say whatever thought had crossed his mind and somewhere between the second round of dishes and dessert, Hoseok pulled out his phone.
“We need a group chat.”
Selina blinked. “For what?”
“So you can text us if you need anything around Seoul,” he said simply. “Or if you want food recommendations. Or if something weird happens.”
Tae was already opening his phone. “Only us four though,” he said. “Less chaotic.”
Hoseok nodded. “Agreed.”
A second later my phone buzzed.
Hoseok created ‘Seoul Line’
Members:
Hoseok
Taehyung
Selina
Hana
Selina immediately sent: If this turns into you two spamming selfies I’m muting it.
Tae replied with a selfie anyway.
Hoseok sent a thumbs up and then, for some reason, a dancing emoji.
I laughed hard enough that Tae looked disproportionately pleased with himself.
Eventually lunch had to end. Hoseok picked up the bill before any of us could protest, claiming his friend would be offended otherwise. Outside, the air had that crisp Seoul autumn chill again, and the earlier heaviness of the day felt more distant, not gone but folded away for later.
They dropped us near our rental first. As Selina and I stepped out of the car, Tae lowered the window.
“Text when you get inside.”
Selina gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
Hoseok leaned across from the other side. “And if either of you need anything, actually anything, use the chat.”
“We will,” I said, and meant it.
As the car pulled away, Selina turned to me slowly.
“Well.”
I already knew that tone.
“What?”
She looped her arm through mine as we started toward the building entrance. “Today was very interesting.”
I exhaled. “That is one word for it.”
“And some of the guys are definitely…”
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t even finish the sentence.”
“I know exactly where it was going.”
She grinned as we stepped inside. “Good. Saves time.”
~~ Jungkook’s POV ~~
I didn’t leave right away after everyone else had gone.
I told myself it was because I had nothing scheduled for another twenty minutes. Because Namjoon was still talking to one of the managers. Because there was no reason to rush.
All of those things were true.
And none of them were the reason I stayed.
By the time the corridor had emptied, Namjoon finally came back into the conference room to retrieve the notebook he’d left behind. I was still there, standing by the windows with my hands in my pockets, watching Seoul through the glass without really seeing it.
Namjoon stopped when he noticed.
“You’re still here.”
I let out a short breath. “So are you.”
Namjoon picked up the notebook, then didn’t move toward the door. For a moment neither of us said anything.
Then Namjoon spoke first.
“You shouldn’t have challenged the NDA like that in front of legal.”
I looked over. “They were putting papers in front of her like she’d done something wrong.”
“They weren’t.”
“That’s not how it felt.”
Namjoon held my gaze for a second. “I know.”
That took some of the fight out of me immediately, which annoyed me even more.
Namjoon looked down at the table, fingers tapping once against the notebook in his hand before going still. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer. Too calm.
“You need to be careful.”
My shoulders tightened. “About what?”
Namjoon’s eyes came back to me then, direct and impossible to misread.
“About Hana.”
The name hanging in the room like that made something defensive rise in my chest before I could stop it.
“What about her?”
Namjoon’s jaw worked once. “I met her first.”
The words landed harder than they should have.
I stared at him.
Namjoon went on before I could answer. “I’m not saying that to stake some claim over her like she’s a thing to be won, so don’t look at me like that. I’m saying that because you know how this is for us. How rare it is to meet someone outside of all this and not have them react to the image before the person.”
I looked away first.
Because I did know.
And that was exactly the problem.
Namjoon’s voice dropped slightly. “You got close to her fast.”
“So did you.”
“Yes.” No denial. No excuse. Just that. “Which is why I’m telling you this clearly. If you keep moving the way you are, you’re overstepping.”
I laughed once, humorless. “Overstepping?”
Namjoon didn’t soften. “You know what I mean.”
I did.
That was the worst part.
I knew exactly what Namjoon meant. The way it had all escalated after the party. The alley. The apartment. The couch. The way I had looked at her this morning and had to physically remind myself to stop.
Namjoon rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, suddenly looking every bit as tired as he had earlier. “I’m not trying to fight you over this.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
A faint frustration flashed across Namjoon’s face. “I’m asking you to respect the fact that there’s already something there. Or at least the possibility of something. And I’m asking because I know you, Jungkook. If you decide you want something, you go all in before thinking about the fallout.”
The truth of that stung more than I wanted to admit.
I thought of the way I had not wanted to wake Hana the night before. The way I’d stayed on the mattress beside her. The way hearing her say my name, Kook, had done something to me that I still couldn’t quite explain.
I thought of her signing that NDA this morning just to ease the tension between them.
My chest tightened.
Namjoon misread the silence, or maybe read it too well.
“She’s not part of this world,” he said more quietly now. “Not really. Neither is her sister. And if this turns into a mess between us, they’ll feel it. She’ll feel it.”
I looked back at him then, jaw set.
“I would never drag her into a mess on purpose.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” Namjoon said. “That’s why I’m saying this now.”
Silence pressed in again.
Then, because respect had been trained into me almost as deeply as instinct, because Namjoon was Namjoon and some part of me would always listen when it mattered, I let out a slow breath and stepped back.
Fine.
If that was what this was.
If there was already ground marked out around Hana in ways nobody wanted to say plainly.
Fine.
I could step back.
At least for now.
My throat felt tight when I finally answered.
“…I hear you, hyung.”
Namjoon’s expression shifted, just slightly. Relief. Guilt. Neither looked good on him.
I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets and moved toward the door before either of us could say anything else.
But as I reached for it, Namjoon spoke one last time.
“For what it’s worth,” he said quietly, “I don’t think she signed that because of “legal””.
I paused with my back still turned.
Namjoon continued, voice low.
“I think she signed it because she didn’t want us at each other’s throats.”
I swallowed once.
I didn’t trust myself to answer.
So I just nodded and left.
And for the first time since meeting Hana, I made a conscious decision to pull back, not because I wanted to, but because wanting was suddenly the dangerous part.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
<- Previous | Series Masterlist | Next ->
Summary: Suga of BTS is on the edge, racing against the clock to finish his solo album. With just three songs left to complete and a looming deadline, he's struggling to find inspiration. In a last-minute move, his company pairs him with the highly secretive Producer K, a renowned but elusive figure in the music industry. Everyone assumes Producer K is a male, but when Suga meets the mysterious producer, he's shocked to discover that K is actually a talented and confident woman. As they collaborate, the line between professional and personal begins to blur. Their chemistry is undeniable, but with a ticking clock and the pressure to deliver, can they finish the album on time? Or will their growing connection derail everything they've worked for? Secrets, passion, and music. Can Suga keep his focus, or will Producer K. change everything?
A/N: I miss these two already!! 🥺 This story was highly influenced by me having Yoongi's SDL and Reed Wonder's The machine on repeat. Hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I did writing it! Let me know your thoughts 💕.
The soft hum of equipment filled the studio, punctuated by the click-clack of Yoongi's keyboard. His desk was a mess of coffee cups, scribbled notes, and sheet music—proof of hours spent chasing inspiration that eluded him.
"Hyung," a staff member, Jihoon, said cautiously, standing near the doorway. "I think we need to talk about your album. Specifically, the last tracks you’re stuck on."
Yoongi swivelled his chair, eyebrows knitting together. "I'm not stuck," he said sharply. "I just need time."
"You have three months before the release date," Jihoon reminded him. "And right now, three of the songs don’t have melodies. You’ve been staring at the lyrics for weeks."
Yoongi sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "I’m working on it."
Jihoon hesitated, holding back a smirk. "The team suggested bringing in another producer."
Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. "I don’t need help. This is my album. I’ve handled everything myself before, haven’t I?"
"This time, we’re short on time," Jihoon countered. "And we’re talking about Prod. K. He’s incredible! The guy with the minimalist beats and genre-blending compositions. Even you’ve praised his work."
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I praised the music, not the person. And I don’t work with strangers, especially ones I’ve never even met."
"It’s non-negotiable, hyung." Jihoon sighed. "The higher-ups already agreed. We’re bringing him in to collaborate."
"Bringing him in?" Yoongi repeated, his tone laced with sarcasm. "I’ve never even seen his face. For all I know, he could be some arrogant newbie."
Jihoon smirked, his gaze flickering with amusement Yoongi didn’t appreciate. "Lets not judge, just wait until you meet him."
Yoongi grumbled, turning back to his monitor. "Fine. But don’t expect me to make this easy for him. And when he leaves because I’m too ‘difficult,’ you can tell the higher-ups they were wrong."
~~ Y/N POV ~~
"Are you out of your mind?!" I hissed, pacing the small office where my team had dropped the bombshell of the century. "To collaborate with Suga of BTS in person? Sure, it’s an honor, but that’s a no from me. If my identity gets leaked, the fact that I’m a woman, working with him in some tiny studio, any sasaeng will have me on their hit list before I even step out the door."
My manager, Minji, leaned back in her chair, arms crossed but eyes pleading. "Y/N, listen. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. His songs are streamed millions of times. You can’t just brush this off."
"I’m not brushing it off," I shot back. "I respect his work, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not willing to risk it. There are plenty of artists who would kill to have me on their projects just by sending them my demo, and they’re happy to communicate with me online without ever knowing who I am. Why him? Why now? Why like this?"
Minji sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It’s not just about you. The label needs this. We’re in a tight spot financially, and this contract is massive. Do you know how much they’re offering?"
I didn’t want to hear the number. Money had never been my motivator, but the way Minji’s face softened told me it was enough to make a difference, not just for me but for my entire team. I groaned, dropping into a chair and crossing my arms. "Why can’t anyone hear my opinion? I don’t want to do this. I’m not just some faceless entity, you know."
"You’re not," Minji said gently. "But you also know how much this could elevate your career. Three songs, Y/N. That’s all they’re asking for. Just three."
Her words echoed in my head, the weight of them pulling me in two directions. Logic screamed to take the job, but fear—fear of exposure, of judgment—held me back.
"Fine," I said finally, hating how small my voice sounded. "I’ll think about it."
***
That night, I found myself on an unintentional deep dive into Min Yoongi’s a.k.a SUGA a.k.a AGUST D world. It started innocently enough: a quick search to refresh my memory of his discography. But then one song led to another, and another, until I was buried in hours of music he’d produced, lyrics he’d written, and performances that made me forget why I was so hesitant in the first place. Scrolling through fan edits and live clips, I couldn’t help but be charmed. There was a reason people adored him, not just for his talent, but for the quiet charisma that seeped through the screen. His easy confidence, the way he handled himself on stage and in interviews, was magnetic.
"Focus," I muttered to myself, shaking off the distraction. But the deeper I went into his work, the harder it was to ignore his genius.
His music was haunting, intricate, and raw. The kind of art that pulled you into someone’s soul, no matter how much they tried to hide. I couldn’t help but wonder how someone with this much expertise got stuck?
By the time dawn broke, I called Minji. "Minji," I said the moment she answered, her voice still groggy. "I’ll do it."
"Wait, what? You’re serious?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"Yes, but on one condition."
"Name it."
"No one finds out who I am. If my identity leaks, I’m out."
Minji exhaled sharply. "We’ll make sure of it. I’ll talk to the higher-ups and confirm everything. Thank you, Y/N. This is the right decision."
I wasn’t sure if it was the right decision, but it was the one I’d made.
The next couple of days blurred into a whirlwind of paperwork. Contracts, NDAs, and endless signatures filled my time, the reality of the collaboration sinking in more and more with each passing document. Ironically, a small part of me hoped that Min Yoongi would refuse to sign the NDA. Maybe he’d see the clause about not sharing my identity, find it too ridiculous, and decide the collaboration wasn’t worth it.
But no.
He signed it.
When Minji told me, I stared at her like she’d grown a second head. "He signed it?"
"Yeah," she said, looking just as surprised. "No arguments, no complaints. Honestly, I thought he’d push back, but he didn’t."
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a long breath. "This guy… He’s full of surprises."
"Don’t get your hopes up," Minji warned. "Just because he signed doesn’t mean this will be smooth sailing."
"I know," I muttered. But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder. How different was the man behind the screen, the one whose music I’d admired for a while, from the person I was about to meet?
***
A few days later, everything was finalized. Minji and I were contacted by Jihoon, one of the team members who worked closely with Suga.
"He’s coming to pick us up personally?" I asked Minji, eyebrows raised as I adjusted my headphones around my neck.
"Apparently," Minji replied, glancing at her phone. "Guess he wants to make sure we actually show up."
When Jihoon arrived, he was younger than I expected, his energy warm and casual. He greeted Minji with a polite bow and a bright smile, then turned to me. For a moment, his expression faltered, his eyes darting behind me like he was waiting for someone else to appear.
"Uh… Hi," he said, looking between Minji and me. "You’re both here for Suga, right?"
"Yes," Minji answered smoothly. "This is K." She gestured toward me.
Jihoon blinked, confusion written all over his face. "Wait… You’re Producer K?"
I gave him a tight-lipped smile. "That’s me."
"You’re kidding," he said, then immediately looked apologetic. "I mean, sorry, I just—uh—"
"You were expecting someone else?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Kind of, yeah," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "No offense, but I thought you’d be, you know…"
"A guy," I finished for him, crossing my arms.
He laughed awkwardly. "Well, yeah. I mean, your music has this… vibe. It’s not what I’d expect from—" He cut himself off again, realizing he wasn’t helping.
"From a woman?" I challenged, though there was no malice in my tone.
"Not what I meant!" Jihoon exclaimed, waving his hands. "It’s just…forget it. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you."
Minji chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "Don’t worry. She gets that a lot."
I didn’t hold it against him. The entire point of my stage name was to avoid this kind of reaction, but moments like these reminded me why I kept my identity under wraps. Jihoon composed himself quickly and gestured toward the sleek black van parked nearby. "Anyway, let’s get going. Suga’s waiting for us at HYBE."
***
The drive to HYBE was surprisingly pleasant. Jihoon was chatty, making an effort to ease the awkwardness of our initial interaction.
"So," he began, glancing at me through the rear-view mirror, "I’m curious. How long have you been producing?"
"About six years," I replied.
"Wow, and you’re already working with Suga," he said, genuinely impressed. "That’s not something just anyone gets to do."
"I’m aware," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "It’s a privilege."
He nodded. "Have you been a fan of his music for a while?"
I hesitated. "I respect his work. He’s incredibly talented."
Jihoon grinned knowingly. "You’re downplaying it, huh? That’s fine. Most people get nervous meeting him for the first time. Don’t worry, he’s actually a lot nicer than people think."
Minji let out a quiet laugh beside me. "I don’t think nervousness is the issue here."
Jihoon glanced between us, confused but wisely decided not to press further.
***
Pulling up to HYBE’s towering building was intimidating, to say the least. I’d seen pictures online, of course, but being there in person was a different experience.
"Here we are," Jihoon announced as he parked the van.
As we stepped out, I adjusted my hoodie, making sure it covered my face as much as possible. Even with the NDA in place, I couldn’t shake the paranoia of being recognized. Jihoon led us through the back entrance, avoiding the main lobby and elevators filled with staff and trainees. "We’re heading straight to the studio," he explained. "He’s already there."
The walk felt longer than it probably was, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. When we finally reached the studio, Jihoon paused at the door, turning to us.
"Ready?" he asked.
"As I’ll ever be," I replied, tightening my grip on my laptop case.
He opened the door, and there he was, Min Yoongi, sitting in front of a massive console, his back to us.
He turned at the sound of the door, his expression neutral as he stood to greet us. His gaze swept over Minji first, then landed on me. For a moment, he said nothing, his sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe. Then he frowned, looking at Jihoon.
"This is K?" he asked, his tone sceptical.
Jihoon winced. "Uh, yeah. This is K."
Yoongi’s frown deepened as he crossed his arms. "You’re joking, right?"
I stepped forward, meeting his gaze head-on. "Last time I checked, I’m not a joke."
His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "You’re not what I expected."
"Good," I said, setting my laptop on the table. "Let’s get started."
Yoongi smirked, leaning against the edge of the console, arms crossed. His sharp gaze never left me as he added, "I have to say, your previous work didn’t exactly… scream ‘feminine touch.’ If anything, I thought you’d walk in here with a beard and flannel shirt."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
Jihoon coughed awkwardly, stepping back as if distancing himself from Yoongi’s comment. Minji shot him a warning look, but I could see the corners of her mouth twitching like she was trying not to laugh.
Yoongi raised a hand, his smirk widening. "No offense. I’m just saying your music has this raw, almost aggressive energy. It’s impressive. I just didn’t picture..." He motioned vaguely toward me. "...this."
Minji quickly interjected, "Alright, we’ll leave you two to it. Jihoon and I have some things to take care of."
"Wait—" I started, but Minji grabbed Jihoon by the sleeve and dragged him toward the door.
"You’ll be fine," she called over her shoulder. "Just... play nice, both of you."
The door shut with a soft click, and I was left staring at Yoongi, who looked far too amused for my liking.
"Let me guess," I said, narrowing my eyes. "You think this whole thing is a waste of time, right? That I’m here because someone in your company thought you needed ‘help.’"
He shrugged, moving to his chair and spinning it lazily before sitting down. "Help isn’t the word I’d use. But yeah, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about this arrangement."
"Trust me," I said flatly, "neither was I."
That earned a low chuckle from him. "At least we’re on the same page."
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my irritation in check. I’d dealt with condescending colleagues before, but Yoongi’s nonchalant attitude was already grating on my nerves. How different was he from the Yoongi I’d seen in interviews or fan videos? This guy wasn’t the soft-spoken, thoughtful artist fans adored. He was sharp, blunt, and entirely too smug.
"Let’s just get to work," I said, pulling out my laptop and external drive. "You have lyrics, right? Show me what you’ve got."
Yoongi grabbed a notebook from the desk and slid it across the table. "Here. Three tracks I’m stuck on. The lyrics are solid, but I can’t find the right sound to match them."
I flipped through the pages, skimming the lines. His handwriting was neat but compact, and the lyrics were, as expected, incredible. Emotionally raw, introspective, and layered with meaning. They demanded a melody that could do them justice.
"What’s the vibe you’re going for?" I asked, keeping my tone professional.
Yoongi tapped his fingers on the desk, his expression thoughtful. "Something atmospheric. A mix of minimalistic and haunting, but with enough depth to make it feel powerful. Think piano-driven but layered with electronic textures. I want it to hit hard emotionally but not overwhelm the lyrics."
I nodded, already forming ideas in my head. "Okay, let’s try something."
Opening my laptop, I connected it to the studio’s system and pulled up my digital audio workstation. I started layering a simple chord progression on the piano, experimenting with minor chords to create the moody tone he wanted. Yoongi watched silently for a moment before leaning forward. "No, that’s too soft. It needs more tension."
I adjusted the progression, adding a dissonant note to the second chord. "Better?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Now bring in a low synth pad to fill it out."
I worked quickly, adding the synth and tweaking the sound to give it a subtle pulse. The room filled with the beginnings of a melody, and for a moment, the tension between us eased as we both focused on the music.
"Not bad," Yoongi muttered, almost to himself. "But it still feels... flat."
I bit back a retort, reminding myself that this was his music. "What do you suggest?"
He leaned back, closing his eyes as he listened. "The transition between the first and second chords needs more weight. Maybe a reversed sample or a swell to build anticipation."
I nodded, grabbing a sample from my library and reversing it. After a few adjustments, I played it back. The swell added a subtle but impactful build to the transition.
Yoongi opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "That’s better."
"Glad I could meet your standards," I said dryly.
He chuckled again, the sound low and almost teasing. "Relax. I’m not here to make this harder than it has to be."
"Could’ve fooled me," I muttered under my breath, earning another amused glance from him.
Despite his initial scepticism, Yoongi was a perfectionist, and that part of him was something I could respect. He pushed for the smallest details, catching nuances that most producers might overlook. But he also didn’t hold back his opinions, which made working with him both frustrating and oddly invigorating.
As the hours passed, we fell into a rhythm. He’d point out what wasn’t working, I’d offer a solution, and we’d tweak it until we found something we both liked. By the time we wrapped up for the day, we’d made significant progress on the first track. The rough demo already had a haunting, melancholic energy that complemented his lyrics perfectly. Yoongi leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "Not bad for our first day."
"Let’s hope tomorrow’s just as productive," I said, saving the project file.
He smirked, standing up and grabbing his notebook. "We’ll see. You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be."
"Gee, thanks," I said, rolling my eyes. "You’re a real charmer."
"Only when I want to be," he shot back, heading for the door.
As he left, I let out a long breath, leaning back in my chair. Working with him was exhausting, but I couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling under my frustration. For all his arrogance, Yoongi was undeniably talented, and I found myself looking forward to the challenge of working with him.
***
The next morning, Yoongi and I sat in the studio reviewing the progress from the day before. The demo played softly in the background, and while it sounded promising, there were a few sections that felt off.
"We need to rework this transition," Yoongi said, pointing at the waveform on the screen. "It’s too abrupt. It needs more build-up."
I nodded, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Agreed. Maybe adding a soft vocal sample or layering the synth more would smooth it out."
"Try it," he said, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression.
As I adjusted the track, Yoongi’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, frowned, and stood up. "I need to take this. Keep working. I’ll be back."
He left the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind him. I sighed and refocused on the track, tweaking the layers as the melody slowly started to evolve. But after about twenty minutes, I decided to take a break. My coffee from earlier had caught up with me, and I needed to find the bathroom.
Stepping into the hallway, I started down the corridor when I heard Yoongi’s voice from around the corner. I paused, not wanting to interrupt, but something about his tone made me linger.
"...So yeah, Jihoon, I didn’t know she was a girl," he was saying.
I froze, my pulse quickening.
"I mean, if I’d known that was the case, maybe I would’ve pushed back harder at the beginning. Told them I didn’t need the help. She’s okay and talented, sure, but there are other producers out there who could’ve done this just as well."
My stomach twisted. Was that really what he thought of me? I took a step back, the faint creak of my shoe on the floor startling me. Afraid he might notice, I turned and quickly walked the other way, heading toward the nearest staircase to find another bathroom. I didn’t want to hear anything else.
After finally finding a bathroom and giving myself a moment to cool down, I headed back to the studio. I was determined not to let Yoongi know I’d overheard him, but my annoyance simmered beneath the surface. When I stepped back into the room, he was already there, seated casually at the console like he hadn’t just dismissed my abilities a few minutes ago.
"Done with your break?" he asked, not looking up as he scrolled through the project file.
"Yeah," I replied shortly, taking my seat across from him.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing at me briefly. "You okay? You sound... off."
"Just tired," I said, forcing a neutral tone.
He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. "Alright. Let’s pick up where we left off."
We dove back into the work, but my responses to his suggestions were clipped.
"That transition is too smooth," he said at one point. "It needs more contrast."
"Fine," I replied curtly, adjusting the settings without looking at him.
A few minutes later, he frowned at another section. "This part feels like it’s missing something. Maybe we should—"
"Add another layer?" I interrupted. "I know. Already on it."
Yoongi blinked at me, surprised by my tone. "What’s with the attitude?"
"Nothing," I said quickly, not meeting his gaze.
"Doesn’t seem like nothing," he said, leaning back in his chair. "If you’ve got something to say, just say it."
I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening around the mouse. "I don’t have anything to say, Yoongi. Let’s just get this done, okay?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, I thought he might push further. But then he shrugged, turning back to the monitor. "Whatever you say."
The tension in the room was palpable, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him.
"Look," he said after a long silence, his voice softer but still firm, "if something’s bothering you, it’s better to air it out now. We’re supposed to be a team, remember?"
I laughed humourlessly. "Team? Right."
Yoongi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, what did I do? You were fine this morning, and now you’re acting like I kicked your dog."
I hesitated, torn between calling him out and keeping what I’d heard to myself. In the end, I shook my head. "It’s nothing. Let’s just focus on the music."
He didn’t look convinced, but he let it drop, his focus returning to the track. For the rest of the session, I kept my replies short, my tone professional but distant. If he noticed, he didn’t comment again. But as I left the studio that evening, I couldn’t shake the sting of his words. He might think I was talented, but apparently, that wasn’t enough.
***
Sunday was a rare blessing, my day off, a chance to breathe away from the suffocating confines of the studio and Min Yoongi. The contract was clear: three months to collaborate on three tracks for his upcoming album. That deadline loomed over every interaction, and yet, the past week had felt like a year.
I sat across from Minji at our favourite café, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint hum of chatter around us. She was nursing her caramel latte, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Okay, spill," she said, leaning forward. "How’s it going with Yoongi? Are you two getting along?"
I scoffed, stirring my drink with unnecessary aggression. "Getting along? Not even close. He’s impossible."
Minji raised an eyebrow. "Impossible how? Isn’t he just... quiet and focused?"
"Quiet? Sure. Focused? Definitely. But it’s like working with a brick wall that also has an opinion on everything. He’s a perfectionist to the point where it’s unbearable. We made progress on a track, a full week’s worth of progress, and on Friday, he decided he didn’t like it and scrapped the whole thing. We’re starting from scratch tomorrow."
Her eyes widened. "He threw it all away? After a week? Was it really that bad?"
I shook my head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "No, it wasn’t bad. It was good, really good, actually. But it wasn’t perfect by his standards. He nit-picks every little thing, and don’t even get me started on his work ethic. The man doesn’t stop. I get it, he’s Yoongi, he’s supposed to be this genius producer or whatever. But does he have to be so infuriating?"
Minji smiled sympathetically, sipping her latte. "Well, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He’s got a reputation for a reason. But isn’t it a good challenge? You’re working with one of the best."
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. "I thought it would be different, you know? I had this idea of him in my head. This brilliant, creative artist who would respect me as a collaborator. Instead, he’s... cold, demanding, and so stubborn."
Minji chuckled. "Sounds like he’s met his match."
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Oh, please. If he’s met his match, he doesn’t realize it. He probably just sees me as another producer he has to tolerate."
"That’s not true," Minji said, shaking her head. "You’re talented, Y/N. He’ll see it eventually."
I sighed, taking a long sip of my coffee. "I hope so, because right now, it feels like we’re just butting heads. He questions everything I do. And don’t even get me started on his attitude. He’s so... smug sometimes."
"Smug how?"
"Like—ugh!" I gestured vaguely, trying to find the words. "It’s the way he looks at me, like he’s constantly judging whether I’m good enough to be there. He doesn’t say it outright, but I can tell he’s thinking it. And it drives me insane."
Minji laughed, leaning back in her chair. "You’ve got it bad, huh?"
"Bad?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Bad as in annoyed? Yes. Bad as in anything else? Absolutely not."
"Sure," she said, her tone teasing.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "You’re impossible."
Minji grinned, nudging my arm. "You know, maybe this is good for you. A little friction can spark creativity. And who knows? Maybe he’s just testing you."
"Testing me?" I repeated, giving her a sceptical look.
"Yeah. Like, seeing how far you’re willing to push yourself. Maybe he’s trying to figure you out."
"Or maybe he’s just a workaholic control freak," I muttered.
Minji laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Point taken. But don’t let him get under your skin too much. You’ve got this, Y/N. And who knows? By the end of three months, maybe you’ll even like him."
I snorted. "Not a chance."
But as much as I hated to admit it, her words stuck with me.
***
The following week was no easier than the first. Yoongi and I worked tirelessly in the studio, bouncing ideas off each other, experimenting with melodies, and layering sounds. For every step forward, there seemed to be two steps back.
"This bassline isn’t strong enough," Yoongi said on Tuesday, frowning at the speakers.
"I think it works," I argued. "It’s subtle, but it adds depth to the track."
"Subtle isn’t what we’re going for," he countered.
"And what are we going for, exactly?" I asked, crossing my arms.
He gave me a look, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back a smirk. "Something better than this."
I wanted to throw my notebook at him.
By Wednesday, we’d managed to salvage some of the earlier work, only for Yoongi to suggest another round of revisions.
"You’re kidding," I said, staring at him.
"Do I look like I’m kidding?" he replied, completely serious.
"Do you ever smile?" I shot back.
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
The tension between us was constant, a tug-of-war where neither of us was willing to back down. And yet, beneath the frustration, there was a strange kind of rhythm to our interactions. As much as I disliked him, I couldn’t deny that he was brilliant. Watching him work was like witnessing a master at his craft, every decision precise, every movement deliberate. But that didn’t mean I liked him. And I certainly wasn’t going to let him know just how much I respected his talent.
***
The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of the studio, casting soft golden stripes across the equipment. I was at the workstation, tweaking some samples on my laptop while Yoongi stepped out for a meeting, or whatever it was he disappeared to.
The door opened suddenly, and I assumed it was him coming back. "Did you finally decide to—"
I froze mid-sentence as someone entirely different walked in. The man was tall, with a warm smile and an unmistakable energy that lit up the room. His eyes scanned the studio until they landed on me, his confusion immediately evident.
"Uh… hi?" he said, his smile faltering slightly. "I’m looking for Yoongi. Did I walk into the wrong room? I am pretty sure this is the right one though..." he started scratching the top of his head, clearly confused.
"No, this is the right place," I replied, standing awkwardly. "He just stepped out for a bit."
His eyebrows shot up, and he pointed at me with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "Wait—who are you? Why is there… a girl in here?"
I frowned, crossing my arms. "What’s that supposed to mean? Girls aren’t allowed in studios now?"
His hands shot up defensively, and he chuckled nervously. "No, no! That’s not what I meant! It’s just… Yoongi didn’t mention working with someone new today. And you’re clearly not Jihoon."
"Clearly," I said dryly.
He laughed again, but this time it sounded more genuine. "Okay, let me start over. I’m Hoseok, but you probably know me as J-Hope."
Ah, then it clicked , of course it was J-Hope. His sunny demeanour didn’t match the grumpy energy Yoongi radiated, though, which was a refreshing change.
"Nice to meet you," I said, offering a polite nod. "I’m Y/N."
Hoseok’s expression didn’t change for a moment as if he were trying to process something. Then he grinned, leaning slightly closer like he’d just discovered something exciting.
"Wait a second," he said, his tone playfully suspicious. "I’m not even supposed to be here, you know. I heard Yoongi was working with the producer K who doesn’t even disclose their identity, but I just couldn’t resist. I love the music that K has done, so I had to come meet him. Will sign an NDA and everything."
I felt a twinge of amusement at his enthusiasm but kept my expression neutral. Something told me it was okay for him to know. "Well, congratulations. You just met… him."
Hoseok blinked, and then his jaw dropped dramatically as he pointed at me. "No way!"
"Way," I said, trying not to laugh.
His hand flew to his chest as if he were clutching imaginary pearls. "That’s why Yoongi didn’t even say anything when I begged for details! He just said, ‘There’s an NDA in place’ and refused to elaborate."
"Pretty much," I replied with a shrug.
Hoseok stared at me for a beat longer before a wide grin spread across his face. "You’re good. Like, really good. I’ve been following your work, but I never would’ve guessed you were… Well, you!"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Is that a compliment or a subtle way of saying I don’t look the part?"
"No, no, definitely a compliment," he said quickly, waving his hands. "It’s just… Yoongi’s been extra secretive about this whole thing. And now I see why."
"Yeah, well," I said, gesturing vaguely around the room, "he’s not exactly a ray of sunshine to work with."
Hoseok laughed loudly, his shoulders shaking. "Trust me, I know. But if you’re still here, that means you’re tougher than most. Or really patient."
"Or both," I muttered under my breath.
Hoseok’s grin widened, and he gave me a mock salute. "Well, K—er, Y/N—it’s an honor to meet you. Seriously. Your work speaks for itself."
He continued, a small smile playing on his lips. "Trust me, when I say this, Yoongi wouldn’t work with you if you weren’t talented. He’s picky about these things. So if he’s giving you a hard time, it’s probably because he knows you’re good enough to keep up with him."
I blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. "That’s… nice of you to say."
"Just calling it like I see it," he said with a shrug.
Before I could respond, the door opened again, and Yoongi walked in. His eyes flicked between me and Hoseok, his expression unreadable.
"What are you doing here?" he asked Hoseok, his tone laced with mild irritation.
Hoseok grinned, completely unfazed. "Came by to check on you, of course. But I see you’re in good hands."
Yoongi’s gaze shifted to me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—annoyance? Curiosity? It was hard to tell.
"Don’t you have your own schedule to worry about?" Yoongi asked, walking over to his desk.
"I’m on a break," Hoseok replied cheerfully. "And besides, I wanted to meet your mystery producer. You could’ve mentioned she’s not a guy, by the way."
Yoongi’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on the stack of notes in front of him, clearly dismissing the conversation.
"Well," Hoseok said, standing up and stretching, "I’ll leave you two to it. Nice meeting you, Y/N."
"Nice meeting you too," I said, watching as he strolled out of the room.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Yoongi and me alone again.
"You’ve been busy making friends," he said, not looking up from his papers.
"Is that a problem?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Just don’t let him distract you. We’ve got work to do."
"Wouldn’t dream of it," I said, turning back to my laptop with a hint of sarcasm.
Yoongi didn’t push further, but I could feel his gaze linger on me for a moment before he returned to his papers. But as I settled back into the project, I couldn’t help but think about what Hoseok had said. Maybe Yoongi’s high standards weren’t a bad thing. Maybe, just maybe, they were proof that he saw something in me worth pushing for.
***
The next day, I walked into the studio, ready to dive into the work, but there was something off in the air. Yoongi was sitting at his desk, staring at his screen, tapping his pen rhythmically on the surface. It was a subtle change, but it didn’t escape me, he wasn’t his usual, calm and collected self.
I sat down at my workstation, glancing over at him. He was clearly deep in thought, but there was an edge to his silence today that felt... different. More charged. I wondered if it had anything to do with yesterday’s interaction with Hoseok. Yoongi didn’t acknowledge my arrival, which was typical, but today his lack of response felt unusually pointed. After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke without looking up.
“Didn’t you want your identity a secret?” His voice was cold, almost accusatory.
I froze.
“Excuse me?” I asked, trying to hide the annoyance creeping up my neck.
“Talking to Hoseok yesterday," he continued, now looking at me with an unreadable expression. "The whole 'I can’t reveal my identity' thing. So why are you suddenly so comfortable with him knowing?"
I felt a flash of irritation surge through me, but I kept my voice level.
“I never said I was ‘comfortable’ with it,” I replied. “I’m just doing my job. And I don’t owe you an explanation about my personal decisions”.
He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to read between the lines, but said nothing more. The tension hung heavy in the room as he returned to his screen, though his fingers seemed to hesitate over the keys. I couldn’t help but scoff under my breath. What did he think? That I just decided to throw away years of carefully cultivated anonymity for fun? Minji had already alerted me that J-hope had also signed the NDA. I glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Let’s just get to work,” I said, my tone clipped, trying to deflect from the awkwardness of his question. “You said you wanted to tweak the second verse.”
“Yeah," he muttered, still not meeting my gaze, "but now I’m wondering if I even want to keep collaborating with someone who can’t keep things private.”
There it was again. That little jab. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. I gritted my teeth, my patience thinning.
“I’ve been working in this industry for years, Yoongi,” I said, fighting to keep my composure. “Long before this project. I know what’s at stake. Don’t lecture me about privacy.”
He finally glanced up, his eyes meeting mine. There was a flicker of something, was it guilt? But he quickly masked it with his usual indifference.
“Right,” he said, standing up and walking toward the soundboard. “Let’s get this over with.”
The rest of the session passed with both of us avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Despite the friction, we did manage to make some progress. I’d never admit it aloud, but Yoongi was damn good at what he did. Even when he was being insufferable. After a while, he took a deep breath, rubbing his temples like he was trying to stave off a headache.
“You’re not what I thought you’d be,” he muttered, half to himself.
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what did you expect?”
He gave me a sideways glance, not quite meeting my eyes.
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Maybe someone more... calculated. Or quieter.”
“Is that so?” I shot back, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Because I thought you liked chaos in your music.”
He smirked at that, but the tension still lingered between us, thick and unresolved.
As the day wore on, we continued to push through, though it was clear neither of us was really in the mood for any small talk or the usual banter. The chemistry that had started to form in previous days was gone, replaced by an almost uncomfortable distance. I finally stood up to stretch, my back aching from sitting for so long. Yoongi glanced at me, his expression unreadable.
“You’re leaving?” he asked, voice cool, as though he didn’t care.
“Yeah. I’m going to grab something to eat,” I replied curtly, gathering my things.
Halfway through gathering my things, for a split second, I thought I saw Yoongi open his mouth as if he was about to say something. Maybe it was the exhaustion on his face or just the weird tension between us, but for a brief second, I thought, just maybe, he was going to offer to grab something to eat with me. Instead, he just turned away, his back to me as he focused on his work. I blinked, swallowing the unexpected disappointment that bubbled up. What was I even expecting? It wasn’t like we were friends. Shaking off the weird feeling, I grabbed my bag and left the studio, the door clicking shut behind me.
***
Once I got to the company’s cafeteria, I was finally able to relax. The soft buzz of voices and clinking silverware was a welcome break from the tension in the studio. I grabbed a tray and found a seat by the window, trying my best to shove aside any thoughts of Yoongi.
He was a talented producer, no doubt, but the way he treated me was... irritating. I shouldn’t have expected anything different. This was business, not friendship, and I had no time to be distracted by someone who probably saw me as just another collaborator, nothing more.
I opened my notebook and jotted down a few ideas for the next two songs we still needed to work on. The first song was nearly done, but we’d been working on it for two weeks, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It was slow progress, and I could already feel the deadline creeping closer.
I was so deep in thought, sketching out some melodies, that I didn’t notice Hoseok standing in front of me until he waved his hand in front of my face.
“Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow, looking amused.
I jumped a little, then glanced up at him. “Oh, hey, Hoseok. Didn’t see you there.”
He slid into the seat across from me, still grinning like he knew something I didn’t. Hoseok leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning me curiously. “So, how’s it going? He’s not making it too hard for you, is he?”
I almost snorted at the question. “Hard? That’s an understatement. But yeah, I’m surviving. We’re getting somewhere.”
He raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to get along with Yoongi so easily. He’s a bit... stubborn, right?”
I shrugged, taking a bite of my food to avoid answering too directly.
“You’d be surprised what I can tolerate,” I said, feeling defensive for some reason.
Hoseok tilted his head, his gaze sharp. “I guess so. But you know, it’s funny.”
I looked up from my food, confused. “What’s funny?”
Hoseok smirked. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to be such a fan of Yoongi’s music.”
I blinked, unsure if I heard him right. “What do you mean?”
Hoseok just pointed at my phone on the table, where I’d left it open to a playlist of Yoongi’s songs.
I froze, then quickly reached to hide it, but it was too late. Hoseok’s grin widened.
“You know, I really didn’t expect that,” he said, leaning in a little closer, his tone teasing. “I mean, I always knew Yoongi’s music was good, but seeing you listen to it like that... I got to admit, I’m curious what you think of it.”
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “I’m just... trying to learn more about him, okay? It’s part of the job.”
“Sure, sure,” Hoseok said, still grinning. “I mean, I get it. He’s got a certain... appeal. But hey, don’t let it distract you too much. He’s not the easiest person to get close to.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I muttered, returning to my food, trying to act like I wasn’t the least bit fazed.
Hoseok studied me for a moment, then leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression.
“Well, if you want my advice...” He grinned again, his eyes mischievous. “Try not to fall for the music and the man, yeah?”
I choked slightly on my food, coughing. “What?!”
Hoseok laughed, clearly enjoying my reaction. “I’m just saying, Y/N, don’t get too swept up in it all. Yoongi’s a complicated guy. He’s not someone who’ll make things easy.”
I scowled, but there was a small part of me that couldn’t help but appreciate Hoseok’s frankness. “I’m not falling for anything, Hoseok. I’m just here to do my job.”
Hoseok just winked and stood up. “Whatever you say. But if you do need to talk about him... I’m always around.”
Hoseok paused, about to turn around before he shot me a sly grin over his shoulder. “Actually… I don’t know if you’re comfortable with all this yet, so you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’m known for throwing some pretty epic parties around here,” he said, his tone playful. “I’m throwing one at the company soon, gathering the staff, and some of the BTS members will be there too.”
I raised an eyebrow, confused at where this was going. “A party?”
“Yeah, and I can introduce you as the ‘Assistant of Producer K,’ so you won’t have to expose your identity if you’re worried about that. It’ll be low-key, just a way for you to get used to the vibe here. Who knows? You might even get a chance to chat with Yoongi... outside of the studio.” He smirked, his gaze lingering on me as if he could see through the walls I’d built up. “You can bring a plus-one too, if you want.”
It was tempting, especially with the idea of getting out of this studio for a while. Plus, Hoseok seemed genuine, and I didn’t want to just keep hiding away in my little corner of the world.
Still, I was cautious. This wasn’t my scene, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to step into the spotlight, especially if it meant running into Yoongi in a setting like that. The thought of it made my stomach flip.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, trying to sound neutral.
Hoseok grinned, clearly satisfied with my answer. “Take your time. You know where to find me if you decide.”
With that, he left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I sat there for a moment, turning the invitation over in my head. A party? An opportunity to get used to the vibes, meet people, and possibly see Yoongi in a completely different light. It could be good for me to step out of my shell, get out of my head for a bit. But... was I ready for that?
I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside for now. There was no need to make decisions in a rush. I’d think about it later.
I finished eating in silence, trying to push all the thoughts about Hoseok’s offer out of my head. It wasn’t like me to just drop everything for a party, but something about the idea of getting out of the studio, meeting people, and maybe getting a chance to see Yoongi in a less... tense environment intrigued me. But I couldn’t focus on that now.
I stood up, pushing my tray toward the dirty dish bin, and made my way back to the studio. As I walked through the hallway, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu. It was like I’d just left, but already it felt like I’d been away too long. The faint hum of the studio's equipment reached my ears before I even stepped through the door.
When I entered, the first thing I noticed was Yoongi, still at his spot, but now with a bowl of noodles in front of him. The faint smell of the broth hit me, and I couldn't help but cringe. Didn’t he ever leave this place?
Yoongi looked up from his meal, barely acknowledging me as I entered. "You’re back," he muttered, his voice a little muffled by a mouthful of noodles.
"Yeah," I said, letting the door close behind me. "Still working, I see."
“Of course,” he replied, the tone in his voice sounding almost too casual. "The faster we finish this, the sooner we can move on to the next track."
I dropped my bag onto the table and pulled my chair out. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You keep rushing through everything, thinking you can just ‘move on’ from one song to the next. But this isn’t a race, Yoongi.”
He looked at me sharply, his brows furrowing. "I'm not rushing anything. We need to get this done before the deadline, and you can’t expect me to just waste time on something that isn’t working."
I stared at him, my patience thinning. “You’re not even open to trying something new. Every idea I suggest gets shot down, but you’re so attached to this ‘perfect’ vision of yours. Well, guess what? Perfect doesn’t exist.”
Yoongi set his bowl down, the chopsticks clinking against the edge. “So what, you think I’m not doing my best?” His eyes narrowed, and the room suddenly felt smaller. “You think I don’t care about the quality?”
I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. “It’s not about that, Yoongi. You’re too set in your ways. You think your way is the only way, but this is a collaboration. I can’t just keep following your orders. I’m not your assistant.”
He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his forehead, like I was the last thing he needed in his life right now. "I never said you were my assistant."
“Then stop treating me like one,” I snapped, feeling my annoyance rise. "I’m not here just to cater to your ideas. If we’re working together, we need to meet in the middle."
The silence stretched between us for a few long moments. Then Yoongi glanced away, exhaling sharply as if trying to push back his own frustration. "Fine," he muttered. "We’ll figure it out. But don’t expect everything to happen overnight."
“I don’t,” I replied dryly. "But I expect respect, which is something you seem to be lacking in."
He didn’t answer right away, just went back to staring at his noodles. For a moment, I thought it might be best to just call it a day and leave, but something about the lingering tension kept me rooted to the spot.
"By the way," I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could second-guess myself. "Hoseok invited me to a party. At the company. I’m thinking about going."
Yoongi’s head snapped up at the mention of Hoseok’s name, and I caught the flash of something in his eyes—a mix of surprise, confusion. It was hard to tell. But whatever it was, it was there, even if he quickly masked it with a smirk.
“Hoseok?” he repeated, almost like he couldn’t believe it. “What’s he got to do with you going to a party?”
"I don’t know," I said, shrugging. "Maybe I’ll go. I might need a break from the studio. Get out of here for a bit. And who knows? It might be nice to talk to someone who isn’t you."
Yoongi didn’t seem pleased with that, but he said nothing. Instead, he shifted in his chair and looked at the screen in front of him, ignoring me completely.
“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” he asked, his voice low.
“I don’t know,” I replied, leaning forward on my elbows. “You’ve been pretty hard to work with lately. Maybe a break is exactly what I need.”
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask you not to take a break. I’m just... trying to get this done.”
I tilted my head, studying him for a moment. "Fine. Just let me know when you’re ready to actually collaborate. You can stop being so defensive for two seconds."
There was another tense silence before I stood up to leave the room. But as I reached for the door, something inside me—maybe frustration, maybe curiosity—made me turn back.
“By the way,” I said, walking back to Yoongi’s desk. “Could you give me Hoseok’s number? I might need it for the party.”
Yoongi froze for a second, his fingers stopping mid-air as if I’d just thrown him off balance. His eyes narrowed, and for a second, he didn’t say anything.
"Why would you need that?" he finally asked, voice tight.
"Because I need to respond to him if I am showing up or not," I replied, my tone sharp.
Yoongi glared at me but didn’t say anything else, a muscle in his jaw twitching. After a beat, he reluctantly scribbled something down on a piece of paper and slid it toward me. “Here. But if you think I’m going to chase you to the party... you’re wrong.”
I took the paper, glancing at it before shoving it into my pocket. “Thanks. I’ll make sure not to expect you there.”
Without another word, I turned and left, my mind buzzing with more questions than answers. What was going on with Yoongi? And, most importantly... Why did his attitude bother me more than I cared to admit?
***
I grabbed my phone, fingers hovering over the screen before I hit send. The past few days had been a blur of studio time and late-night meals. I needed something to break the routine. So, Thursday evening I finally decided to take Hoseok up on his offer.
Y/N: Hey Hoseok, it's Y/N! I just wanted to double-check the party details again. You said it’s at the company building, right? What time should I be there?
The response was almost immediate, Hoseok’s usual energy practically jumping out of the screen.
Hoseok: Yep! It’s at the company building. We’ll start around 7 PM, but feel free to come anytime after that. You know how these things go. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re introduced properly as “Prod K’s assistant” so no one will know who you really are. It’ll be low-key, promise!
I let out a relieved sigh. That sounded like exactly what I needed … low-key, no expectations, just a chance to escape the studio for a bit.
Y/N: Thanks, that sounds perfect. I’ll be there. Can I bring my friend Minji? She’d love to come.
Hoseok: Of course! Bring whoever you want. It’s all about having a good time. I’m looking forward to seeing you there!
I grinned at the message, feeling a little lighter. At least for one night, I could just focus on having fun and not worry about my identity or working with Yoongi.
Putting my phone down, I leaned back in my chair, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The whole idea of going to a party sounded so... normal, so different from the chaos I had been drowning in lately. The studio, Yoongi’s sharp comments, and the constant pressure to produce. Maybe this would be a good chance to just... breathe.
I glanced over at the calendar on my desk, mentally counting the days.
The next day, I texted Minji.
Y/N: Hey, I’m going to that party Hoseok invited me to on Sunday. Want to come with me?
Minji: YES YES YES YES. This is going to be so fun! Who else is going?
Y/N: Apparently, all the BTS members will be there too.
Minji: Wait, like ALL of them? Are you serious? We need to plan our outfits then.
Y/N: Just don’t go overboard, okay? Let’s keep it chill.
Minji: You know I can't do “chill” when it comes to parties!
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Minji was always up for an adventure. I knew she’d be bouncing off the walls all weekend in preparation. I didn’t mind though. If anyone could pull me out of my head and get me excited for something, it was her.
When Saturday evening arrived, the studio was buzzing with an unexpected energy. After three weeks of near-constant back-and-forth, I finally felt like we’d made some real progress. The first song was done. It wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as we could get in such a short time, and for the first time in a while, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders.
I glanced at Yoongi, who had been hunched over his computer screen for hours, typing away at the final tweaks. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but when the last beat dropped into place, he sat back in his chair and let out a long, satisfied sigh.
"We did it," he said, turning his head to meet my eyes.
It wasn’t much, but there was a slight spark in his gaze. A hint of pride, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual indifference.
“Yeah, we did,” I said, unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips. "It’s... good."
Yoongi paused, eyes locked on mine for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I guess you don’t completely suck at this after all."
I raised an eyebrow, playing along. "I’m glad to know you’re impressed."
We both laughed softly, the tension that had been hanging between us for weeks finally easing. It was a strange feeling, one I wasn’t used to with him, but I couldn’t deny it. It felt... nice. Like we’d just hit a milestone together.
Yoongi extended his hand, and I hesitated for a split second before I went for it, my palm feeling warmer than usual. Our high-five was awkward, neither of us really knowing how to react. But in that brief moment, I realized how unusual it was for us to share something this... simple.
"Congratulations," I said, nodding toward the screen. "We actually did it."
"Yeah," Yoongi replied, his voice softer than I expected. "I’ll see you on Monday, then. We’ll tackle the next one."
I blinked, taken aback for a second. Monday? Just like that, the professional distance came back. I hadn’t expected him to say that so casually, but I guess it was what we were supposed to do: get the work done, pack up, and move on.
But for some reason, as I sat there in the quiet of the studio, a thought lingered. He’s really not coming to the party, huh?
I glanced over at him, but Yoongi was already packing up his things, seemingly focused on getting out of the studio as quickly as possible. He didn’t even look back at me as he gathered his notes and the leftover snacks we had both been snacking on throughout the day.
I stood up and grabbed my bag, deciding it was better to just let it go. No need to dwell on something that wasn’t going to happen. He was Yoongi, professional, distant Yoongi. He wasn’t someone who would show up to a party for fun.
"Alright," I said, the awkwardness settling back into my chest. "See you Monday, I guess."
Yoongi glanced over at me for a brief moment, nodding. "Yeah. See you."
As I left the studio, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, but I couldn’t place what. Maybe it was just the relief of finally finishing the first song. Or maybe it was just the weird dynamic between us, the unexpected moments of quiet camaraderie that had popped up over the last few days.
But as I stepped out of the building, I realized how much I was looking forward to the party on Sunday. It was the break I needed.
***
Sunday evening came faster than I expected. Minji showed up at my apartment just as I was pulling out a few potential outfits from my closet. She threw her bag on the couch and plopped herself down with a dramatic sigh.
“Finally, a party!” she exclaimed, leaning back and stretching like she’d just run a marathon. “We’ve been cooped up with that brooding genius for weeks. We need this.”
I rolled my eyes, laying a sleek black turtleneck dress over the back of the chair. “It’s not ‘we’. I’m the one stuck with him in the studio.”
Minji snorted. “You say that like I’m not the one dealing with your constant texts complaining about how annoying he is. ‘Minji, he’s impossible. Minji, he’s a perfectionist. Minji, he’s so irritatingly—’”
“Okay, okay,” I interrupted, throwing a pillow at her. “I get it.”
She caught the pillow with a grin. “Admit it, though. You’re starting to like working with him, aren’t you?”
“Like is a strong word,” I muttered, holding up a dark green dress and then discarding it. “We finally finished one song yesterday. That’s it.”
“But you’re not denying it.” She smirked, standing up to rummage through the pile of clothes I’d pulled out. “Ooh, this one’s cute.”
She held up a sequined gold dress, and I shook my head immediately. “Too flashy. I’m not trying to stand out. Just look professional and approachable.”
Minji rolled her eyes. “You know this is a party, right? Not a corporate meeting?”
“Still. I want to keep a low profile,” I said, picking up the black turtleneck dress. It was tight enough to show some curves but modest enough to feel professional, with long sleeves and a hemline that hit just above the knees. “What about this?”
Minji tilted her head, considering. “It’s very you. Chic, understated, mysterious. And Yoongi’s probably going to notice you in it.”
I groaned. “Not everything is about Yoongi!“
Minji raised an eyebrow, smirking as she flopped onto the couch. “Oh, really? If it’s not about Yoongi, then why are you quoting him like he’s living rent-free in your head?”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Because it’s relevant! When I told him Hoseok invited me, Yoongi literally said, ‘But if you think I’m going to chase you to the party... you’re wrong.’ And yesterday, after we finished the song, he ended with, ‘See you Monday.’” I huffed. “He couldn’t have been clearer about not showing up.”
Minji snorted. “Wow. He really went out of his way to make sure you knew, huh?”
“Exactly.” I tossed the dress onto the bed. “So, can we drop this whole ‘Yoongi might surprise you at the party’ thing? It’s not happening.”
Minji held up her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No Yoongi talk. But honestly, he sounds so extra about it. Like, what’s his deal? You’re the one who didn’t even want to be there with him in the first place.”
“Exactly!” I said again, throwing my hands up. “I don’t even care if he shows up or not. This is supposed to be my break. I just want to go, enjoy the night, and pretend I don’t have deadlines hanging over my head for one evening.”
Minji smirked knowingly but didn’t say anything more as she got up to sift through her own options for the party. After a moment, she held up a red dress with a dramatic neckline and sparkling details. “What about this for me? It screams ‘I’m the fun friend.’”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You don’t need a dress to say that. Everyone already knows.”
***
A little while later, we were both ready. Minji had gone with her glittery red dress, while I stuck to my black turtleneck one.
As we grabbed our things, Minji gave me a playful nudge. “Okay, so, final thoughts: what if Yoongi does show up, despite everything he said?”
I shot her a withering look. “Then I’ll eat my words. But that’s not happening.”
Minji grinned as we headed out the door. “We’ll see.”
***
The energy of the party was already palpable as Minji and I entered the venue. The music was loud enough to drown out any awkward thoughts, and the lighting cast a warm, celebratory glow. Before we could get our bearings, a familiar figure spotted us and made his way over with an enthusiastic wave.
“Welcome, welcome!” Hoseok beamed, his smile as bright as the room itself. “You made it! I was starting to think you’d ditch last minute.”
Minji laughed. “Not with you hosting, J-hope. She couldn’t say no.”
I shot her a quick glare but turned to Hoseok with a polite smile. “Thanks for inviting us.”
As we exchanged pleasantries, a small group approached him, each handing over neatly wrapped gifts or gift bags.
“Happy birthday, Hobi!” one of them exclaimed, pulling him into a quick hug before leaving the gift with him.
I blinked, taken aback. “Wait... birthday?” I turned to Hoseok, brows furrowed. “Is this... your birthday party?”
Hoseok gave me a sheepish grin. “Well, yeah. Kind of.”
I stared at him, stunned. “You didn’t tell me it was your birthday!”
“Of course, I didn’t,” he replied, laughing. “If I told you, you wouldn’t have come. Admit it!”
I opened my mouth to protest, then paused, realizing he wasn’t entirely wrong. “…Okay, fair. But now I feel terrible. I didn’t bring you anything.”
He waved it off with a casual flick of his hand. “Don’t even worry about it. Your presence is enough of a gift.”
Minji rolled her eyes playfully. “Wow, smooth.”
I ignored her, offering Hoseok a tentative smile. “Well, if that’s the case, I owe you dinner. My treat. Birthday special.”
Hoseok’s grin widened, and he gave me a mock bow. “I’ll hold you to that.”
As the party carried on, my mind wandered, unbidden, to Yoongi. If it was Hoseok’s birthday, then surely Yoongi would be here, right? They were bandmates, practically brothers. Despite everything he’d said, it felt impossible that he wouldn’t show up to celebrate.
Right?
Hoseok, catching my distracted expression, nudged me lightly. “Come on, let me introduce you to the guys.”
As Hoseok led me through the crowd, I tried to shake off the lingering thoughts about Yoongi. I couldn’t help myself, though; the idea that he wasn’t here, despite everything, gnawed at me. Was he really just going to stay out of sight, like he’d said? Or had something else kept him away?
"Hey, over here," Hoseok called, his voice cutting through my thoughts as he pulled me toward the others. "Everyone, this is Y/N and Minji, the assistant and the manager of Producer K!"
The guys all turned to look, some with grins on their faces, others with more curious expressions. I gave a small wave, trying to maintain the composure I knew I needed for moments like this. Being around people like them—BTS—was something I wasn’t used to, but I was starting to adjust, or at least, I hoped I was.
"Y/N and Minji, huh? Nice to meet you," Jimin said first, flashing me a grin that lit up his whole face. "Hoseok's always talking about Producer K’s work. You must also be a pretty big deal if you’re working with him."
"Yeah, I've heard about his skills," Taehyung added, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Nice to meet some of the brains behind the scenes." He gave a slight bow, which I returned awkwardly.
"We've been hearing a lot about you guys," Namjoon said, his deep voice steady and reassuring. "It's nice to finally put a face to the names."
"Thanks," I replied, trying to keep the mood light. "We just do our part in the background."
They all nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer. But it was clear that Hoseok’s introduction had piqued their interest, and the attention felt overwhelming. I quickly shifted my gaze to see if Yoongi had come in yet, but the crowd was thick, and I didn’t spot him immediately.
"Minji," I whispered, trying to keep my voice low, "Do you think Yoongi’s coming?"
Minji raised an eyebrow. "Why? Are you hoping he does?"
I shot her a sharp look, but she just laughed, nudging me playfully. "Relax, Y/N. If he’s coming, he’ll show up eventually. For now, just enjoy the party. You’ve earned it."
I sighed and nodded, trying to push the thoughts of Yoongi aside. There was no point in stressing over something I couldn’t control.
As the introductions continued, Hoseok pulled me into a more private corner of the room, away from the group for a moment. "You’re doing great," he said with a genuine smile. "I know this might feel like a lot, but you’re handling it well. The others are just excited to meet you. They’ve heard a lot about producer K."
"Thanks," I replied, a little surprised at his sudden encouragement. "I’m just trying to keep a low profile, honestly."
"Yeah, I get it," Hoseok nodded knowingly. "You know, though, if you want to meet some more people, I can introduce you around. You don’t have to worry about your identity being exposed here. "
I just nodded, grateful for his understanding. But part of me was still wondering, was Yoongi going to show up? Or had I been right all along? Was he truly not interested in stepping outside of the studio for something like this?
At that moment, Jungkook stepped over to join us. "What’s up, guys?" he said with a smile.
Hoseok grinned and gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, you! This is Y/N, Producer K’s assistant. You’ve heard a lot about her, right?"
Jungkook looked at me, his expression slightly puzzled at first before breaking into a smile. "Ah, yeah, I’ve heard a little. Nice to meet you, Y/N." He gave a casual wave, but there was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.
"Nice to meet you too," I replied with a slight smile.
Jungkook seemed to sense the tension in the air, glancing between Hoseok and me. "So, Hyung, who else did you invite?"
Hoseok grinned, looking around the room. "A lot more people, but ah, yes, Y/N—the only member you haven’t met yet is Jin. He’s in the military, so it’s just the rest of us holding down the fort tonight."
I nodded, trying to mask my surprise. "Ah, I didn’t realize. That must be tough for you guys."
Hoseok shrugged, but there was a hint of something bittersweet in his eyes. "Yeah, but it is what it is. We’re all proud of him, of course. We just miss him, that’s all."
Jungkook nodded in agreement. "It’s been a while, but we’ll manage. He’ll be back before we know it."
I felt a pang of empathy for them, understanding how difficult it must be to have someone so important absent from events like this. But the conversation quickly shifted as Hoseok directed it back to me.
"So, Y/N, now that you’ve met the guys, are you having fun? No pressure, just curious." He raised an eyebrow, clearly looking for my reaction.
I forced a smile, trying to get out of my own head. "Yeah, it’s been good. Just a little overwhelming."
"Totally understandable," Jungkook said, giving me a reassuring smile. "But don’t worry. It’s just a party. No big deal."
I chuckled softly, grateful for the small bit of comfort. But my thoughts still drifted back to Yoongi. Would he really not show up?
Just then, I spotted Minji on the dance floor, looking like she was having the time of her life. Without a second thought, I nudged Hoseok. "I think I need to join her," I said, already pushing my way through the crowd.
"Go ahead," Hoseok replied with a grin. "I’ll be around if you need anything."
I made my way over to Minji, and we quickly fell into the rhythm of the music, letting the beat carry us away. The drinks were flowing, and before I knew it, the atmosphere shifted into a carefree, almost electric vibe. As more people showed up, the party grew livelier, and from time to time, some of the BTS members would come over and join us on the dance floor. It was fun, it was wild, but... my mind kept drifting back to Yoongi.
Unable to hold it in any longer, I pulled Hoseok aside when I caught him by the bar. "Hey, Hoseok... Where’s Yoongi?"
Hoseok glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, then shrugged. "Oh, he was here earlier, literally before you showed up. Now that you mention it, though, I haven’t seen him since."
I felt a strange mix of disappointment and... relief? I wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe it was better this way, but somehow, a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing from the night.
Minji and I were having a blast, drink after drink, dance after dance. The music, the energy, everything was a blur of fun. I couldn’t remember the last time I had let myself enjoy the moment so freely, and for a while, it was exactly what I needed. But after a few more songs, I started to feel a little dizzy, the world spinning just slightly out of focus.
"Minji, I’m going to head somewhere quiet for a bit," I said, my voice a little unsteady. "I just need to lay down, get myself together. I’ll be back in a bit, okay?"
She shot me a playful grin, still bouncing to the beat. "Take care of yourself, girl! I’ll be here if you need me!"
With that, I slipped away from the dance floor, trying to stay steady on my feet. I remembered the studio I’d worked for the past weeks had a cosy sofa tucked away in one of its corners. It was the perfect place to rest for a bit until the dizziness passed.
I made my way to the studio, feeling the coolness of the hallway against my skin. The noise of the party seemed to fade as I pushed open the door, the silence of the room a welcome contrast to the chaos outside. I sank onto the sofa, closing my eyes for a few moments, hoping to just let the room settle.
I was only half-aware of how long I’d been there when I heard the door creak open. My eyes fluttered open, and I instantly tensed. Had someone followed me in?
There, standing in the doorway, was Yoongi. He looked surprised to see me there, his eyebrows knitting together as he glanced around the room before fixing his gaze on me.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone still as clipped as ever.
I raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing here?" I shot back. "I thought you weren't even coming to the party."
His eyes narrowed for a moment, but then he seemed to shrug it off. "Well I did. But, I don’t exactly need to announce my presence to everyone." His voice was colder than usual.
I bit my lip, frustration rising in my chest. "Then why are you here, Yoongi? If you're so indifferent about the party, why are you hiding out here?"
His shoulders tensed slightly as he crossed his arms in front of him while standing next to the coach, his eyes not quite meeting mine. "Not hiding. Just... thinking." He sighed. "I could ask the same thing."
I crossed my arms too, feeling the heat of irritation flood my veins. "I’m just getting away from the noise for a bit, okay?"
He didn't seem convinced, his lips forming a faint, sarcastic smile. "Right. Just taking a break. From everything, including the party, in my studio huh?"
Before I could respond, the unease that had been building between us finally snapped thanks to the alcohol. I pushed past him, moving toward the door. "Fine, I’ll leave. You can have your privacy too, Yoongi."
I turned sharply, my frustration boiling over, and reached for the door. The cool metal handle felt solid beneath my fingers, offering a small comfort. But as soon as I used it to crack the door open, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me. A hand shot out, and in one swift motion, Yoongi’s arm stretched across me, pushing the door shut and blocking my escape.
I froze, my pulse quickening as I felt the warmth of his body close behind me. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe for a moment, caught in the tension of his presence. His arm hovered just inches from my face, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he braced himself against the door. I could feel the faint shift of air from his movement, the pressure of his proximity filling the space between us. He was so close, but he didn’t touch me.
His breath was warm against the back of my neck, his presence so tangible that it almost felt suffocating. I couldn’t help but stiffen, the tension in the air thick and heavy. My hand, still gripping the door handle, trembled slightly, and I could feel my heart thudding in my chest.
"Let go," I muttered, my voice low, tight with a mix of anger and something else that I couldn’t quite place.
But Yoongi didn’t budge. He was silent for a long moment, his body pressed just behind mine, not quite touching, but close enough that I could feel his every movement, his breath still brushing over the back of my neck.
"No," he said, his voice soft but firm’’...stay.” There was no hesitation in his tone, as though he had made up his mind about this. About me.
I didn’t turn to face him. I couldn’t. But I could hear the subtle shift in his tone. It wasn’t just the frustration from before—it was something else now. Something quieter.
"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, though my hands were still shaking, my fingers gripping the door handle as if it might ground me. "Why should I stay?"
Yoongi’s breath seemed to hitch at that, and he shifted slightly, his chest brushing against my back as he leaned in just enough for me to feel the weight of his presence. "Because," he started slowly, his voice almost a murmur, "I didn’t tell you to leave."
His words were unexpected. I hadn’t anticipated this, whatever it was, this softness in his tone, this tension building between us.
I could feel myself bristling and I turned around to face him. "Why should I listen? You didn’t even want to work with me in the first place. Why should I stay here with you now?"
"Who told you that?"
His voice, quieter now when his eye caught mine, but the words still stung. "I overheard you that day, talking to Jihoon on the phone, during the first week. You said you should've argued harder with your company to not work with me... and you said it was because I’m a woman."
I could feel my chest tighten as the words left my lips. The tension in the air thickened, and before I knew it, I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
Yoongi’s face faltered. His eyes softened.
"I didn’t say that." Yoongi's voice was quieter, almost apologetic now. "If you heard me properly that day... I said I knew you were talented. And I knew how much you value your privacy. I know this whole thing is risky for you. That’s why… if I had known you were a woman, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to work with you. I didn’t want to blow your cover or make you feel uncomfortable around me the whole time".
I blinked, my heart dropping. I felt like I had heard those words, but it was as if I hadn’t truly processed them until now. Not in that context. I could feel my breath catch in my throat. I didn’t know what to say. His words were so different from what I had thought. My mind was swirling, and before I could stop it, a few tears broke free and slid down my cheek.
Without a word, Yoongi stepped closer, his hand brushing my cheek gently, his thumb swiping away the tears while holding my face.
I froze, staring up at him, unsure of what was happening, but the proximity, his nearness, was overwhelming. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, and his touch was so soft it almost made my heart ache.
His eyes met mine again, searching, lingering. We were so close now. His breath mingled with mine as he looked down at me, and I could feel the heat between us.
"Can I..." He started, his voice low, almost hesitant, but before he could finish, the door suddenly jolted behind me.
I jumped, both of us stepping away instinctively, my heart racing. The air between Yoongi and me shattered in an instant.
It was Hoseok. He stepped inside, a playful grin on his face, but his eyes didn’t seem to notice me. "Yoongi! Where’s Y/N? She was looking out for you earlier, and then she just disappeared on me."
I couldn’t look at either of them. I just stood there, my back to the door, trying to breathe normally.
Hoseok stepped further into the room, a confused expression crossing his face as he noticed me and the way Yoongi was standing. He glanced between us, his gaze flicking back to Yoongi. "Everything good here?" he asked, sounding half-serious, half-playful.
I quickly moved, my cheeks flushed, and hurried out of the room, unable to handle the awkwardness any longer. Hoseok called after me, but I didn’t look back. I just needed to get away, to breathe, to think.
But as I walked away, I couldn’t stop the images of Yoongi’s eyes on me, his breath on my skin. What had just happened? I wasn’t sure, but my heart was pounding in my chest as I moved further from that room, from him.
***
When I finally made it back to the party, I spotted Minji chatting away with Taehyung. She looked up and waved me over, her usual bright energy making her stand out. But I couldn’t shake the feeling from earlier. Yoongi's words, his actions. I knew I needed to leave.
"Minji," I said, cutting through the conversation. "We need to go." She blinked, surprised at the abruptness of my tone, but nodded without questioning me. I turned to Taehyung, who had been listening to Minji ramble on, with a smile on his face.
"Tell Hoseok I’m sorry, but I have to leave. I'll see him again soon," I said, my voice steady. "And remind him that I still owe him that dinner."
Taehyung raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He just gave me a knowing smile. "Alright, take care. I’ll let him know."
Minji and I made our way out of the venue, the lights of the party fading as we stepped into the cool night air. The moment we were in a taxi, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.
Minji glanced at me, her eyes practically sparkling with mischief as she read me like an open book. “Wow. So you did meet him. What happened? Tell me everything. Now."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "You’re relentless, you know that?"
Minji threw me a playful look. "You're not getting away with it. I need to know all the details. Was it awkward? Did he talk to you? What did he say? Was it... was it like, a moment?"
I groaned, leaning back against the headrest. "Honestly, it was... complicated." I paused, gathering my thoughts. "We had a bit of an argument, and then, out of nowhere, he blocked the door when I tried to leave. He didn’t want me to go. And then, he... he said some things. I don’t know. Things about me being a woman, about my privacy... It just felt like it was all crashing down in one moment."
Minji’s face shifted from excitement to concern. "Wait, what? He said what about your privacy?"
I sighed deeply, recalling the mix of emotions from that moment. "I told him I overheard him on the phone saying he didn't want to work with me because I was a woman. I was mad. And I think I was hurt, too. He didn’t deny it. He said... he said that he knows I’m talented and that he wouldn’t have worked with me if he knew I was a girl because it could’ve blown my cover. I... I didn’t know what to think."
Minji stared at me, processing everything I’d just said. "Wow. That’s a lot. But it sounds like he really didn’t want to hurt you, Y/N. I mean, he doesn’t want to blow your cover, and he’s not the type to just say stuff for no reason. I think he might’ve been trying to protect you in his own way."
I shook my head, still not fully understanding it all. "Maybe. But it doesn’t make it easier. He’s so confusing, Minji. One minute, he’s mad at me, then we’re... closer than I thought. I don’t even know if I want to deal with it."
Minji placed a hand on mine, her expression softening. "You’re allowed to be confused. I get it. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a good thing. He’s not the only one with walls up, you know? You’ve got yours too."
I sighed, leaning back again. "Yeah, but this... this is different. He’s not supposed to make me feel like this."
Minji didn’t say anything at first, but then she shrugged slightly. "Look, I can’t tell you what to do. But whatever happens, you’ll figure it out. You always do."
Her words were comforting, even though I wasn’t sure if I agreed. I wanted to know what Yoongi wanted from me, if anything. But for now, I had to focus on what came next.
***
The next morning, I woke up feeling like I was moving through a fog. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol from the night before or the confusion swirling around my thoughts, but I had to get up, get ready, and go to work. It was just another day. I was a professional, after all.
As I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but think about everything that had happened between Yoongi and I the night before. The words, the tension, the way he blocked the door... It all felt like a surreal dream now. I quickly pushed those thoughts away, forcing myself to focus. I’d told Minji last night that I wouldn’t mention it again. That was the plan. I was going to walk in, act normal, and get through this day like nothing had happened. I had a job to do.
I dressed quickly, choosing something that felt both comfortable and professional, jeans and a simple blouse. Nothing too attention-grabbing. With one last look at myself in the mirror, I headed out.
The drive to the studio was quiet, my mind a little too preoccupied with what I’d left behind. I thought about texting Minji again, but I didn’t want to be that person who overanalysed everything. I’d deal with it.
The moment I stepped into the studio, I immediately spotted Yoongi, already seated at the desk, headphones on, his gaze focused on the screen in front of him. The familiar quiet hum of the place seemed to swallow up any lingering awkwardness between us.
I set my bag down on the sofa and made my way over to the desk, trying to appear as casual as possible. I could feel Yoongi’s eyes flicker briefly in my direction, but he didn’t acknowledge me right away. That was fine. No need for anything weird to happen today. I wasn’t going to let it.
“Morning,” I said, offering a neutral smile, willing myself to act as though last night had never even happened.
Yoongi just nodded, his expression still unreadable. "Morning."
I took my seat and opened my notebook, flipping through the pages as if the routine of it all would help settle the tension that had been gnawing at me since our confrontation the night before. The silence between us felt a little less suffocating, though. It wasn’t that we were talking more, it was just that Yoongi didn’t seem as harsh on his tone today. No biting comments yet, no sharp observations either.
He adjusted the volume on the speakers and clicked around on the computer for a few seconds before speaking again. "You finished that beat you were working on Saturday?"
“Yeah, it’s done,” I replied, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were focused on the screen, but I noticed there was a slight change in his demeanour. The tension from before, the coldness, seemed to have faded. It wasn’t gone completely, but it was much more subtle now.
He didn’t respond immediately, just tapped a few keys on the keyboard before nodding. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”
I slid the flash drive with the updated track across the table. Yoongi took it, plugged it into the system, and started the track without a word. The room filled with the sound of the beat I had been perfecting, and I waited, watching his reaction closely.
As the beat played, Yoongi’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t make any negative comments this time. He just let the track play all the way through, his eyes scanning the waveform on the screen, listening intently.
When the track ended, he leaned back in his chair, finally looking over at me. “Not bad.”
I couldn’t help but feel a small relief wash over me. "Not bad" from Yoongi was a compliment, even if it didn’t sound like one. At least he hadn’t outright criticized it.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel my nerves creeping back up again. “Anything you want me to change?”
Yoongi scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a little too clean. Add some grit, something to make it stand out more. We need it to hit harder.”
I nodded, taking mental notes. “Got it. I’ll work on that.”
It felt almost normal, the way we interacted. No lingering animosity, no mention of what had happened the night before.
As the session continued, the vibe between us remained steady, calm and professional, with just a touch of the underlying tension we hadn’t addressed. We worked for hours, tweaking the track here and there, going back and forth on the sound and rhythm until everything was just the way we wanted it.
At some point, Yoongi stood up and stretched, letting out a quiet sigh. “I’m going to grab a coffee. You want anything?”
I blinked, surprised. He’d never offered to get me anything before, not like this. His tone was casual, though, like it was no big deal.
“I’ll take an iced coffee,” I said, half-smiling at the unexpected gesture.
Yoongi didn’t say anything, just nodded and walked out of the studio. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. It wasn’t like everything was magically fixed, but there was something about this new, less tense dynamic that felt... better. More comfortable, even.
As I sat back in my chair, I tried to focus on the track again, but my mind kept drifting. What has changed between us? I knew I wasn’t imagining it, there was definitely something different today. But I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
When Yoongi came back with the coffee, we fell back into the routine of the session, but now, it felt almost easy. We were working smoothly, and I caught him glancing over at me once or twice, his eyes lingering a little longer than before.
Still, neither of us brought up what happened the night before. Not yet. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Or maybe it was something neither of us wanted to revisit.
***
As the day came to a close, I packed up my things, feeling the weight of the day lifting off my shoulders. I had managed to get through the session with Yoongi without any more awkwardness, which was a small victory in itself. As I grabbed my bag, I looked over at Yoongi, who was already absorbed in his work again.
“See you tomorrow,” I said casually, ready to leave the studio.
Yoongi gave me a small nod, his focus not wavering. “Yeah, see you.”
I left the studio and stepped into the cool evening air, the city lights twinkling in the distance. I needed a distraction. Something to take my mind off everything that had happened with Yoongi.
I pulled out my phone and quickly sent a text to Hoseok.
Y/N: Hey, are you free tonight?
Hoseok: Yeah, I’m free. What’s up?
Y/N: I told you I owe you dinner. Want to grab some barbecue tonight?
Hoseok: Haha, of course I didn’t forget! Even Taehyung reminded me about it last night after you left! So yeah, sure, let’s do it. When and where?
Y/N: How about at 7 at that popular spot in Gangnam?
Hoseok: Perfect! I’ll see you there. I’ll be starving by the time we meet!
Y/N: Same here. I’m ready to eat my weight in meat.
Hoseok: Haha, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N!
Y/N: See you soon!
I smiled as I read our conversation. Hoseok had a way of lightening the mood, and the idea of spending the evening with him, laughing and eating good food, felt like the perfect way to unwind.
When I arrived at the restaurant, the smell of grilled meat hit me as soon as I stepped inside. I scanned the room for Hoseok and spotted him right away. He was sitting at a table near the back, looking up at me with a wide smile as always.
"Y/N!" he greeted me, standing up to wave as I approached.
"Helloo!" I said with a grin, taking my seat across from him.
He immediately grabbed the menu, flipping through it. "So, what are you in the mood for? Meat, meat, and more meat?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
"Definitely," I replied, laughing. "I’ve been craving barbecue all day."
We both ordered a few different cuts of meat, and as we waited for the grill to heat up, Hoseok leaned back in his chair, looking at me curiously.
"So, what happened last night?" he asked casually, the question catching me a bit off guard.
I hesitated for a second, my fingers tapping on the table. "What do you mean?" I asked, pretending not to understand what he was getting at.
"You know... I could tell something was a little off when you left the party, after i caught you with Yoongi at the studio.." Hoseok said, his tone soft but inquisitive. "Everything okay between you two?”
I shrugged, forcing a smile. "Yeah, everything’s fine," I said, though the words didn’t feel entirely true. "We finished the first song. Two more to go, and then we’ll be done."
Hoseok didn’t seem convinced. He nodded and took a sip of his drink before continuing. "Well, that’s good. I’m glad to hear you’re making progress. But, uh... are you sure everything’s okay with him? You know... since you’ve been working really closely together."
I looked down at my hands for a moment, gathering my thoughts. "It’s fine, Hoseok. Really. Just... we have our days, you know?"
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. "If you say so."
The food arrived, and the sizzling sounds of meat on the grill distracted us both for a moment. Hoseok was quick to start cooking, flipping the pieces of meat with ease. The smell was intoxicating, and I could already feel my stomach growling in anticipation.
We continued to eat, talk, and laugh, the mood light and easy. Hoseok was a great conversationalist. We talked about music, our favourite songs, and his plans for the future. It felt so natural, like we’d known each other for years instead of just a month.
At one point, he pulled out his phone. "Hey, I’d like you to hear something," he said, tapping away at the screen. A moment later, his phone was playing a new track, a smooth, upbeat melody that instantly grabbed my attention.
"This is one of my newer tracks," Hoseok said, watching me closely as the music played. "I’m really proud of it so far, but I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. What do you think?"
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over me. "This is really good, Hoseok," I said, smiling. "It’s got such a great vibe. It’s... it’s got that perfect energy."
He grinned, clearly pleased with the feedback. "Thanks. I’m hoping it’s going to be a hit. But, you know, it’s not finished yet. Still got a bit of work to do."
"Well, I’d be happy to help with anything you need," I said, my tone sincere. "I think you’re on the right track. I can already picture it in a club."
"Yeah? You’re the expert," he said, leaning back in his chair with a proud smile. "Maybe I should bring you on as a collaborator someday."
I raised my eyebrows at the suggestion. "Collaborator? That would be interesting."
Hoseok laughed, shaking his head. "I’m just saying... if you’re up for it…"
"Maybe," I teased, taking a sip of my drink.
As the night went on, we continued to enjoy the barbecue, the conversation flowing easily between us. It was a welcome distraction from the confusion that had been hanging over me lately. It was hard not to feel at ease around Hoseok. He was kind, funny, and genuine in a way that made me feel like I could let my guard down.
Eventually, after we’d eaten our fill and were lounging in our seats, Hoseok pulled out his phone again. "Come on, let’s take a photo," he suggested, grinning. "You know, for the memories."
I nodded with a smile and he grabbed his phone, opening the camera. We both leaned in, the grill between us, holding our drinks up like we were toasting. "Best birthday gift ever," Hoseok said dramatically as the picture snapped, before quickly typing something into his phone.
"Done!" he said proudly. "I posted it to my close friends on Kakao Talk. You know, just in case anyone wants to know how I spent my special days."
I laughed, shaking my head. "You’re crazy."
"I know," he said with a wink, taking another drink from his glass. "But seriously, Y/N, this has been fun. Thanks for asking me to come out tonight. You’re a lot of fun to hang out with."
I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. "Of course. I’m glad we did this. It’s been way too long since I’ve had a night like this myself."
"Same here," Hoseok said with a smile. "We should do it again sometime."
As the night wound down to an end, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. It had been a good night, and it felt like I’d finally had a chance to breathe again. The pressure I’d been carrying, the weight of my thoughts about Yoongi and everything that had happened, seemed to lighten a little as I had sat there across from Hoseok, laughing and eating with no other worries.
When the bill arrived, I was quick to grab it, remembering my promise. "It’s on me tonight," I said, pulling my card out before Hoseok could protest. I shook my head, giving him a playful look. "I owe you dinner, remember?"
He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll let you have your moment." He watched me pay, his expression softening into something more genuine. "But next time, I’m the one picking the place and bill."
"Deal," I said, with a smirk. "But only if it’s something equally as good as tonight."
"Haha, I’ll try," he replied, still laughing.
As we walked out of the restaurant, we decided that the evening had been a success, and that we would definitely plan another time to hang out. It was nice to have a real moment with him, away from all the stress and confusion, it had been exactly what I needed, an evening of laughter, food, and friendship. And for that, I was thankful.
***
The next day, I walked into the studio feeling lighter than I had in weeks. My relationship with Yoongi seemed to had softened after yesterday, and dinner with Hoseok had been a bright spot in an otherwise chaotic schedule. I was ready to tackle the second track with a fresh perspective.
As always, Yoongi was already in the studio when I arrived, sitting at the mixing desk, adjusting levels with his usual quiet focus. He acknowledged me with a small nod as I set up my things. His demeanour seemed normal at first, calm and business like.
We dove into the track, bouncing ideas back and forth. At first, everything felt fine, normal even. But as the hours ticked by, Yoongi’s feedback became sharper, his tone more clipped.
“Can you take this seriously?” he snapped suddenly after I made a suggestion about the arrangement.
I looked up, startled. “I am taking this seriously. What’s going on with you today? You seemed fine yesterday.”
“Nothing’s going on,” he said curtly, not looking at me. His fingers tapped at the keyboard with more force than necessary. “You just need to focus more on the job you’re supposed to do.”
I frowned, confused by his sudden change in attitude. “We’re making progress,” I said cautiously, trying to keep my voice calm. “I’m confident we’ll meet the deadline.”
Yoongi spun his chair to face me, his eyes narrowing. “If you really cared about the deadline, you would focus on the work instead of going out to dinner with Hoseok and wasting your energy there.”
His words hit like a slap. I blinked, completely taken aback. “How do you even know about the dinner?”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “He posted it on Kakao Talk. All the guys were talking about it in the group chat.”
I froze, trying to process what he was saying. Of course Hoseok had shared it, but it was a perfectly innocent dinner, and he’d been excited about it. Still, I felt a strange pang of guilt under Yoongi’s intense gaze.
“I invited him because I felt bad about going to his birthday party without bringing a gift,” I explained, my voice steady but defensive. “I just wanted to make up for it.”
Yoongi’s eyes stayed locked on mine, unreadable. “It’s interesting,” he said coolly, “how close you are with him. I’m the one you work with every day. You don’t see us going to dinner, do you?”
I opened my mouth to respond but hesitated, unsure of what to say. Before I could gather my thoughts, Yoongi waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. Let’s just get back to work.”
The room fell into an awkward silence. I stared at him for a moment longer, trying to make sense of his reaction, but his posture was closed off, his focus fully on the screen in front of him. With a frustrated sigh, I turned back to my notes and forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand.
The rest of the session felt strained. Yoongi’s usual calm, measured feedback was replaced with sharp, almost impatient remarks. It wasn’t just the work, something else was clearly bothering him, but I couldn’t figure out what.
Then, halfway through a take, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression tightening. Without a word, he stood and began gathering his things.
“What’s going on?” I asked, breaking the tense silence.
“Nothing,” he said shortly, not meeting my eyes. “Let’s cut this short today.”
“Yoongi—” I started, but he was already slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his tone final.
And just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the studio. I stared at the door for a long moment, my emotions a mix of confusion and frustration. Whatever had just happened felt personal, even though I couldn’t understand why.
As I packed up my things, my mind kept circling back to his words, to the way he’d looked at me. You don’t see us going to dinner, do you? What did that even mean? Why did it sound like he cared, like it bothered him?
Shaking my head, I gathered my bag and left the studio. No matter how much I wanted to make sense of it, I wasn’t going to let Yoongi’s mood derail the progress we were making, or my own peace of mind. I had a job to do, and I wasn’t about to let this strange tension get in the way.
***
The next day, Yoongi and I exchanged only a few words when I arrived at the studio. His mood seemed calmer than yesterday, though still a little distant. I decided not to push it.
We worked steadily through the day, both of us falling into the rhythm of our tasks. It wasn’t awkward, just focused, like two professionals determined to meet their goal. The hours passed in a blur of music, notes, and adjustments. By the time Yoongi looked up from the computer, his face was lit with mild surprise.
“Ah, shit,” he muttered, glancing at the clock. “It’s late,” rubbing the back of his neck. “We should stop here for today. It’s good progress.”
I nodded and stood up, but as soon as I tried to take a step, my legs wobbled beneath me. I reached out to steady myself against the desk, my vision spinning slightly.
Yoongi was already on his feet, stepping toward me with concern etched on his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “I think I’m just a little dizzy. Now that I think about it… I didn’t even eat lunch.”
Without a word, he reached for my wrist and tugged gently. “Let’s go.”
“Wait, what?” I asked, caught off guard. “Go where?”
“To eat,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I tried to protest as he led me out of the studio and toward his car. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll grab something on the way home.”
Yoongi ignored me, opening the passenger door and gesturing for me to get in. Reluctantly, I slid into the seat, and he shut the door before walking around to the driver’s side.
The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. I glanced at him a few times, wondering why he was going out of his way like this, but his expression was unreadable.
We arrived at a small, cosy restaurant tucked away in a quiet part of the city. Yoongi parked the car and got out without a word, waiting for me to follow.
Inside, the warm lighting and inviting atmosphere made me relax a little. We were seated at a corner table, and soon, the smell of grilled meat and savoury dishes filled the air.
“About yesterday,” he started, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
I glanced up, momentarily stunned. He wasn’t looking at me; instead, his gaze was fixed on his plate, as if the words were hard to push out.
“I was out of line,” he admitted, exhaling sharply, almost like the confession itself was a weight lifted.
I blinked, my chopsticks hovering mid-air. Yoongi rarely, if ever, admitted fault. This was unexpected.
“I took a lot of things out on you,” he continued, his tone laced with a hint of self-reproach. His chopsticks moved idly, pushing food around on his plate as if it could somehow distract him from the vulnerability of the moment. “Things that weren’t your fault. And for that, I’m sorry.”
The sincerity in his voice made my breath catch. This wasn’t the stoic, sharp-tongued producer I’d been working with for weeks. This was Yoongi stripped of his usual defences, and it threw me off balance.
“You... You’re apologizing?” I finally said, a mix of disbelief and teasing slipping into my tone.
His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Yeah. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“I mean, how can I not?” I said, leaning back in my chair, folding my arms in mock astonishment. “Min Yoongi admitting he’s wrong? I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”
Despite his attempt at brushing it off, I could tell the apology mattered to him. He wasn’t the type to say things he didn’t mean, and the effort behind his words wasn’t lost on me.
“Look,” he continued after a moment, his voice steadying. “Yesterday... I just have been under a lot of pressure, and I let it get to me. That wasn’t fair to you. You’ve been working hard, and I should’ve recognized that.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice softer now. “That means a lot.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between us melting away. As the meal went on, we started to relax, trading small talk about work and life. Yoongi even ordered a bottle of wine, and soon we were sipping glasses of it, the conversation growing lighter.
For the first time, it felt like I was seeing a different side of him, one that wasn’t guarded or buried in his work. And for a moment, it was easy to forget the weight of the studio, the deadlines, and everything else that had been hanging over us.
By the end of the night, my cheeks ached from laughing, a rare, warm contentment spreading through me. Yoongi had surprised me, not just with his apology, but with the way he let his guard down, even if just a little. Maybe he wasn’t as closed off as I’d assumed. Maybe there was more to him than I’d ever expected.
As we stepped outside the restaurant, the crisp night air greeted us.
"Hey, you can’t drive now since you’ve had a drink," I said, glancing at Yoongi. "Should we call a taxi or something? Or maybe Hobi? I saw his stories, he was bored at home, he could probably come pick us up."
Yoongi’s expression shifted, and he immediately shook his head. "No," he said, his voice firm. "I’ll handle it. I’m calling Jihoon."
I raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment but let it slide. The warmth from the alcohol in my system faded quickly, leaving me shivering slightly in the cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stave off the chill.
Yoongi noticed. “It’s getting cold,” he said, almost to himself. Before I could respond, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it around my shoulders.
The unexpected gesture made me pause. The weight of the jacket and the faint scent of his cologne caught me off guard. I looked up at him, my eyes wide. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” I said softly.
He waved it off. “It’s fine. I’m not cold.”
I tilted my head, sceptical. “Really? Your hands must be freezing,” I said, blowing warm air over my own hands and rubbing them together in a futile attempt to warm them.
Yoongi’s eyes flicked to my hands, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he reached out, wrapping his hands gently over mine. The sudden warmth of his touch stopped me in my tracks.
His hands were warm, enveloping mine completely. I glanced up at him, startled. He didn’t say anything, his gaze locked on mine, intense yet unreadable. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of us standing there, connected by something unspoken.
My breath hitched, the moment heavy with tension neither of us dared to break. But before it could go any further, the sound of a taxi pulling up snapped us back to reality.
“Jihoon’s here,” Yoongi said, his voice steady as he stepped back, letting my hands go.
I quickly pulled my hands behind my back, hiding the tingling warmth that lingered from his touch. Jihoon stepped out of the car, waving casually as he approached.
“Thanks for coming,” Yoongi said, handing him the keys to his car.
“No problem,” Jihoon replied with a grin. “You guys look like you had a good night.”
Yoongi nodded and gestured for me to get in the backseat. He opened the door for me, waiting until I was seated before climbing in beside me.
The ride was quiet, with Jihoon humming along to the radio in the front seat. I stared out the window, my thoughts swirling as I replayed the events of the night. The warmth of Yoongi’s jacket around my shoulders and the memory of his hands over mine lingered, leaving me more confused than ever.
Unable to resist, I flicked my gaze toward him. His profile was sharp in the dim light, the strong line of his jaw catching my attention. Why does he have to look like that? My eyes drifted downward, landing on his hands resting casually on his lap. Those veiny, capable hands that had so effortlessly wrapped around mine earlier.
My face grew warm as I recalled the moment, a rush of heat spreading through me. Embarrassed by my own thoughts, I quickly snapped my gaze back to the window, determined not to look at him again for the rest of the ride. ‘Focus on something else, anything else,’ I told myself, even as my heart stubbornly refused to settle.
When we pulled up in front of my place, Jihoon parked smoothly, and Yoongi stepped out of the car before I could say anything. He stood there for a moment, looking composed as ever, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
“Bye,” he said simply, his voice even but low enough to make my stomach flip. “See you tomorrow.”
I managed a small smile. “Okay. Bye.”
He watched me walk to my door, and when I turned back for a second, he was already getting back into the car. Jihoon gave a small wave before driving off, leaving me standing there, suddenly alone.
Once inside, I leaned against the door, the events of the evening replaying in my mind like a whirlwind. Dinner, the jacket, his hands over mine... It was all too much. I sighed, pulling the jacket off to hang it up, only to freeze mid-motion.
“Oh no.” My voice echoed in the quiet space. His jacket. I still had it.
I grabbed my phone, typing quickly.
Me: I just realized I still have your jacket. Did you guys leave already?
His reply came faster than I expected.
Yoongi: It’s fine. You can give it back another day.
I stared at the screen, his words making me bite my lip. For a moment, I debated responding, but what else was there to say? Sighing, I put my phone down and folded the jacket neatly. The faint scent of him lingered, a mix of something warm and clean, distinctly Yoongi.
I groaned softly, shaking my head. “Don’t overthink it.”
But as I walked away, I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror, my flushed cheeks betraying my effort to play it cool.
***
The next day, everything felt smoother. The tension from the past week seemed to have evaporated, leaving behind a productive atmosphere in the studio. Yoongi and I worked through the second track effortlessly, the beats and lyrics falling into place with surprising speed. By lunchtime, we had made significant progress, and the track was nearly perfect. Yoongi gave a brief nod of approval before leaning back in his chair.
"One more to go," he said, his tone casual, but I could tell he was feeling a sense of accomplishment too.
Just then, the door to the studio opened with a loud creak, and Hoseok walked in, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted us.
"Hey, look at you two," he said, his voice light. "I come in, and it’s all quiet. Something going on huh?"
Yoongi and I exchanged a glance. "The second track is done, so we're almost there. One more track, and the album’s done."
Hoseok leaned against the doorframe, his expression softening slightly. "Damn, it’s hard to believe we’re almost there." His eyes flickered toward Yoongi, then back at me. "I’m excited, but... also a little nervous. You know, with everything happening soon."
I raised an eyebrow, curious. "What’s going on? What are you talking about?"
Hoseok sighed dramatically, walking further into the room. "Well, since you two are now so close to wrapping up, I need to tell you something." He sat down on the edge of a nearby desk, his eyes locking on me. "I’m going to the military soon."
For a moment, there was silence as I processed the information. My stomach dropped slightly as the reality of it set in. "Wait, you’re leaving already?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could think.
Hoseok smiled gently, his eyes a little softer than usual. "Yeah. It’s going to happen soon. So..." He leaned forward, his tone turning playful but with an undercurrent of something more serious. "I’m going to use that to guilt-trip you two into hanging out with me tomorrow night. I’m hosting a little get-together at my place. Come along, since you’ve worked hard on this album, you deserve a break. You know you want to. Let’s have one last hurrah before I disappear for a while."
Yoongi, who had been silent until now, looked up with a raised eyebrow. "You really think you can just guilt-trip us into going out?"
Hoseok nodded with a sly grin. "Yup. It’s my last chance to make you guys hang out with me before I go. Please?" He looked at both of us, his expression softening, almost pleading.
Yoongi shot me a glance, and I shrugged. "I mean, we’re done with the second track, so it wouldn’t hurt to let loose for a night."
Yoongi looked hesitant for a moment, but Hoseok wasn’t backing down. "Come on, it’s just one night. You can relax and have some fun. Besides, you two need a break, right?"
I chuckled, the tension in the room starting to melt. "Alright, alright. I’ll come, Hoseok. You don’t need to keep trying to guilt-trip us." Yoongi also nodded.
Hoseok’s face lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Yes! That’s what I’m talking about. You won’t regret it. I’m inviting a few people, and we’ll just hang out, eat, talk, maybe play some games."
Yoongi grunted, but there was no denying the slight curve of a smile on his lips. "Fine. One night. But don’t expect us to get drunk or anything."
Hoseok laughed, shaking his head. "Who said anything about getting drunk? I just want to spend some time together, that’s all. We’re all so busy, and before you know it, I’ll be gone."
He was right. As much as we all had our own things to focus on, this was a moment to come together before everything changed. And honestly, after working so hard on the album, I could use a little time to relax.
"Alright, we’re in. What time should we be there?" I asked, already feeling a little more at ease about it.
"7 PM. Don’t be late," Hoseok said with a wink. "I’m going to make sure there’s food, so just come hungry."
"Okay," I agreed, nodding. "See you tomorrow, then."
As Hoseok left the studio, I glanced over at Yoongi, who was already back to his work. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite everything, the day had been productive, and now we were going to take some time for ourselves. I didn’t know how often I’d get moments like these, where things felt normal, light and easy.
"Guess we’re going to Hoseok’s," I said, trying to keep things casual.
Yoongi gave a small nod, his expression unreadable as always, but there was a faint sense of relaxation in his posture. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered again, almost as if to convince himself.
***
The next day, Yoongi and I had somehow hit a streak, two days in a row of working together without any tension. We finished everything we had planned for the day, and as the evening rolled around, we were both in a surprisingly good mood.
As the last song for the day played out, I looked up from my computer and caught Yoongi’s eye.
"Guess that’s a wrap for today," I said, stretching out my arms. "See you at the party, yeah?"
Yoongi gave me a small nod, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, see you there."
I stood up to grab my things, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. It had been a long time since we’d gotten along this well, and I wasn’t going to overthink it. Tonight was supposed to be fun, a chance to relax.
"Try not to get too drunk," I teased lightly as I started toward the door.
Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Could say the same thing to you.”
"Uh-huh," I shot back, laughing as I left the room. "Sure."
As I walked out, I could feel the lightness in my step. For once, it felt like things were moving in the right direction. The night ahead felt full of possibilities, even if it was just hanging out with the rest of the team.
When I got home, I quickly changed into something casual, not wanting to overdo it for Hoseok’s party. I kept it simple, a pair of jeans and a loose top. Around 7 PM, I made my way to Hoseok’s place, and when I arrived, I found the others already there.
The atmosphere was warm and relaxed, the smell of food filling the air. The place was buzzing with laughter and easy conversation. I caught sight of Yoongi sitting at the corner of the room, his usual calm demeanour in place, but there was something different about him tonight.
His hair was styled, and the black shirt he was wearing seemed to fit him just right, accentuating his broad shoulders. There was an easy confidence in his posture, and as I studied him for a moment, I realized he looked… hot.
I quickly averted my gaze, not wanting to get caught staring. The last thing I needed was to get all flustered over him again. I turned my attention to the rest of the room and spotted Hoseok in the middle of a conversation with a few other guests. He seemed to be doing his usual thing, laughing and talking animatedly, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to interrupt just yet.
Instead, I made my way over to where Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung were chatting near the food table. They were all mid-laugh when I approached, and Jungkook waved me over with a grin.
“Y/N! Come join us, we were just talking about the new choreography for a music video,” he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“Oh? What is it about this choreography?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Taehyung leaned in with a mischievous grin. “We’re learning this really complicated move that involves, like, spinning and flipping, but it looks ridiculous when we try it,” he said, laughing.
Jimin jumped in. “Taehyung’s over-exaggerating, it’s not that bad. But we’re definitely working on something new for the next video, and it’s going to be fun.”
“Yeah, we’re going to have to rehearse a lot,” Jungkook added with a playful smirk. “Taehyung might need extra practice though,” he teased.
I chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll all manage. You guys are pros, after all.”
Taehyung pouted but then grinned again. “Yeah, but you should see us try. We look like a bunch of drunk chickens. Maybe we’ll film it for behind-the-scenes footage.”
“Please do, I’d love to see that,” I replied, laughing along with them.
As we were talking, I noticed Hoseok making his way over with a big smile on his face. He clapped his hands together and announced, “Alright, everyone, I think it’s time for a drinking game! Who’s in? It’s going to be fun, I promise!”
Jimin immediately jumped up, grinning. “I’m in! Let’s do this!”
“Count me in too,” Taehyung said, raising his hand. “I’m ready to win this game.”
I glanced at Jungkook, who gave a playful nod. “Let’s go. This should be interesting.”
With that, the four of us headed over to the designated table where the drinks were already set up. Hoseok was already grinning, ready to start the game, and I couldn’t help but feel a little excited about just having fun and not overthinking things.
The game started with some light-hearted activities, rapid-fire questions, and silly tasks that made everyone laugh. It was a great way to break the ice, and before long, we were all feeling more relaxed, enjoying the playful atmosphere.
Then, the game shifted into something a bit more daring: Love Shots. The concept was simple: when the bottle spun, it landed on a couple who had to take a shot together. The catch? You had to show the best “couple moment” before drinking.
I glanced around at everyone as the bottle spun, my heart racing a little at the thought of it landing on someone I knew. Of course, it landed on me and Hoseok first. He flashed me a grin that was as mischievous as it was charming.
"Well, looks like we're the first couple for the night, huh?" he said, winking.
I laughed and leaned in slightly. "Guess so. Let’s make this quick, yeah?"
We took our shot in sync, laughing after, and I couldn’t help but notice the way Hoseok’s eyes sparkled when he was having fun. It made me a little giddy.
The game continued, and once again, the bottle spun, this time landing on Hoseok and me again. A few people around the table groaned, teasing us about being the “official couple.” We just grinned at each other, ready for the next round.
I quickly glanced over at Yoongi, who had been quiet all night, sitting at the table but not participating. He wasn’t drinking either. His gaze was locked on Hoseok and me, and there was a strange tension in his expression. He wasn’t judging, but he wasn’t engaging either. It was hard to ignore, and I wondered if he was actually bothered by us being partnered up for the game.
Earlier, I had briefly talked to him when the game first started. I asked why he wasn’t drinking, and he had simply said, “Not feeling like it tonight.” There was something about his tone that made me want to ask more, but I didn’t push it. He wasn’t the type to open up unless he was ready.
"Alright, Y/N, it’s your turn again!" Taehyung called out, snapping me out of my thoughts.
The bottle spun again, and this time, it landed on Hoseok and me again. We both burst into laughter, but this time I noticed Yoongi’s eyes briefly flicker towards us. He didn’t look away, but he didn’t speak either. He just observed, his hands folded in front of him as the game carried on.
Hoseok, being a bit more playful, shot me a grin and said, “Guess we’re really the perfect couple, huh?”
I smirked, playing along. “Yeah, looks like I’m stuck with you, Hobi.”
We drank again, and I could feel the warmth of the alcohol creeping through me, loosening my nerves and making everything feel lighter. But despite the fun, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Yoongi’s quiet presence at the table was adding a certain weight to the game. His lack of participation made the contrast between us even more noticeable.
The game finally came to an end after what felt like hours of spinning bottles and laughing until our sides hurt. But as the night wore on, a lot of people were either passed out, waiting for their turn, or feeling too sleepy to continue. I noticed the energy in the room starting to wind down, and with work to do tomorrow, I figured it was best to leave.
I stood up, scanning the room for Hoseok. I spotted him laughing with a few of the other guests, his eyes bright and full of energy despite the late hour. I made my way over to him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.
“Hey, Hobi,” I said, offering him a warm smile. “I think I’m going to head out now. I’ve got work tomorrow.”
Hoseok turned to me with a disappointed but understanding expression. “Aww, already? Well, it was really fun having you here. You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
I shook my head, grateful for the offer but knowing he had a lot of guests to attend to. “Nah, you stay and enjoy. I’ll just grab a taxi. I’ll be fine.”
Before Hoseok could respond, there was a shift in the air. Yoongi, who had been quiet all evening, stood up suddenly from his spot at the table. His voice was calm, but his words caught us both off guard.
“I’m leaving. I’ll take Y/N with me,” he said, tone firm but casual.
The room fell a bit quieter at his declaration. Hoseok blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Yoongi to step in. There was an unspoken tension as we all stood there for a moment, unsure of how to react.
I quickly turned to Hoseok, offering him one last smile. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Thanks for everything tonight.”
Hoseok smiled back, still a little surprised by Yoongi’s sudden intervention, but he nodded. “Alright, take care. See you soon.”
I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else before I quickly made my way toward the door, following Yoongi. I couldn’t help but feel a little flustered. What just happened? Why did Yoongi suddenly decide to take me home?
“Yoongi, wait up!” I called out, catching up to him as he made his way outside.
Yoongi was already ahead, his long strides purposeful. When I caught up with him, I hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Yoongi… you didn’t have to do this, you know…”
He didn’t look at me as he continued walking, but his voice was calm. “It’s fine. You’re not going to take a taxi alone this late. It’s safer this way.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but I stopped myself. There was something in the way he said it that made me not want to push back. Instead, I just followed him outside, the cool night air brushing against my skin as we made our way to the car.
I had no idea what this meant, or what was running through Yoongi’s mind, but for now, I was just grateful that he had decided to take me home.
The drive back home was quiet but comfortable, with only the hum of the car filling the space between us. It wasn’t awkward, though. There was something peaceful about it, something unspoken that made the silence feel easy.
When we arrived at my apartment block, Yoongi stepped out of the car first, walking around to open the door for me.
“Thanks,” I said softly, already preparing to say my goodbyes as I stepped out.
But before I could, Yoongi spoke up, his tone surprisingly serious. “Actually… Can I have my jacket back?”
I blinked in confusion, not entirely sure I’d heard him right. “Seriously?” I asked, laughing a little at the unexpected request. “You’re really asking for it back now?”
He glanced at me with a small shrug, his eyes hiding whatever thoughts were going through his mind. “It’s cold,” he said simply.
I let out a sigh. “Okay, follow me. I took it from the dry cleaners today, and I was planning on bringing it to you tomorrow.”
I stepped inside my apartment, Yoongi following and standing halfway between the living room and the corridor. I quickly scanned the room, searching for the bag with the jacket in it. The silence stretched on as I fumbled through a few things, but Yoongi broke it, his voice unexpectedly blunt.
“So, you and Hobi, huh?”
I paused for a second, confused by the sudden shift in the conversation. “What about me and Hobi?”
“Well, all the dinners, the flirting today with the love shots… is there anything I should know about?” His gaze was steady, but I could see something flicker in his eyes.
I shook my head, trying to keep my tone light. “No, we’re just friends. He’s actually a nice person who respects me and my work.”
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just me overthinking things, but Yoongi’s next words caught me off guard. “But I thought these past few days we were on good terms as well.”
I felt a little defensive at that. “But I’m not working with Hobi. I’m not under a contract with him.”
Yoongi didn’t seem satisfied. “Besides all that, I still felt like we could be more than just coworkers.”
I blinked, not sure if I understood him right. “What? Do you want us to be friends?” I joked, trying to deflect the tension.
Yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly, but I continued “Do you even hear yourself right now? If I had told Min Yoongi two months ago that he’d be asking me to be friends, he would’ve laughed in my face.”
Yoongi’s expression darkened for a moment. “Hell no, I don’t want to be friends with you.”
I crossed my arms, trying to hide the sudden heat rising to my cheeks. “Pff, then I don’t want to be friends with you either,” I shot back, scoffing. “Besides, you’re the one who brought it up in the first place. You were the one sulking about me being friends with Hobi and not with you.”
Yoongi’s eyes flickered with irritation. “I’m not sulking because you are friends with him, I am because you are close to a guy that’s not me.” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it.
“What?” I asked, genuinely confused.
Yoongi took a step closer, his expression darkening. “Let’s cut the crap. You’re telling me that after everything that’s been happening these past two months, the tension, the lingering touches… you never felt anything?” His eyes were locked onto mine, searching for something in them.
My breath hitched in my throat, but before I could respond, he continued. “And after what happened at Hobi’s birthday party… you didn’t move away from me. Hell, you were practically begging me to kiss you with the way you were looking at me. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it too.”
I froze, my mind racing, trying to process his words. I hadn’t expected him to bring up that night, let alone accuse me of anything. My pulse quickened as I searched his face, unsure of what to say.
Yoongi watched me closely, waiting for my response, but all I could do was stare at him, caught in the web of his words.
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, stepping back slightly, trying to play it cool, but my heart was pounding in my chest. Yoongi’s gaze was intense, his expression unreadable, and I couldn’t help but feel exposed under the weight of his words. Was he serious? Was I imagining all of this? I didn’t want to admit it, but everything he said was starting to make sense, whether I liked it or not.
Yoongi didn’t seem satisfied with my denial. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine with a new intensity. “Oh really?” he murmured, his voice low and steady, but there was a hint of something sharper in it now. “Then tell me to stop.”
Before I could process the situation, before I could even think about what to say, he was on me. His lips crashed into mine with a sudden force that caught me off guard. The kiss was hard, desperate, as if he was trying to prove something to both of us. His hands gripped my arms firmly, pulling me in closer.
For a few seconds, I froze, not sure how to respond. His lips moved against mine with an urgency that made my mind race, but my body just… didn’t react. I couldn’t. My heart was beating so fast, my thoughts tangled in confusion. Was this real? Was he really kissing me?
Yoongi pulled back suddenly, his hands dropping from my arms. He stepped away, his expression flickering with something I couldn’t quite place. His breathing was heavier now, and he seemed to be searching for something in my eyes, a sign, maybe, of whether or not I felt the same.
“I— maybe I misunderstood,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice quieter, as if the weight of his actions was suddenly dawning on him.
His words trailed off into a shaky breath, and for a moment, it felt like the room held its breath, everything hanging in the air between us. I stood there, wide-eyed, my lips tingling from the kiss, not knowing how to process what had just happened.
Yoongi’s eyes flicked to the ground for a second, and he muttered a curse under his breath. “Fuck…I’m sorry… I actually thought…” He cut himself off, looking at me like he was trying to gauge my reaction, like he was waiting for me to say something, anything.
The silence between us stretched on, thick and heavy, and I could feel my chest tightening with every passing second. I couldn’t let him walk away thinking he had made a mistake. I couldn’t just stand there and let this moment slip away.
Without even thinking, I stepped forward, my hands shaking slightly, but I reached for him. I grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him closer to me until there was no space left between us. My heart was still racing, but this time, there was no hesitation. I kissed him back, pressing my lips to his with the same urgency that he had given me.
Yoongi stiffened at first, but after a second, he responded, his hands coming up to cup my face as he kissed me back. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. His kiss was deep, full of everything he hadn’t said, all the things that had been building up between us. His lips moved against mine, his fingers threading into my hair as he pulled me closer, if that was even possible.
I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the way his heart seemed to be racing just as fast as mine. The world outside of us faded, and for the first time in a long time, all I could think about was him, Yoongi, and this moment we were sharing.
When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, I was left reeling. My mind was spinning, but there was something in the way Yoongi looked at me, something that made it all feel right, even if it didn’t quite make sense yet.
I took a step back, trying to catch my breath, still processing everything that had just happened. "What’s happening?" I asked softly, my voice a little unsteady. "Are you sure tomorrow you're not just going to act like none of this happened?"
Yoongi didn’t say anything right away. He seemed to be weighing my words carefully, like he was searching for the right response.
Then, he took a slow step forward, closing the distance between us once more. His eyes were intense, but there was a softness in them now, something that made me feel like I wasn’t just some passing thought. "Nah," Yoongi finally spoke, his voice low and steady. "Let me show you how much I've been stopping myself from anything happening."
Before I could process his words, his hands were on me again, pulling me back toward him with an urgency that caught me off guard. He kissed me again, this time it wasn’t rushed, but full of something more than just desire.
Yoongi’s hands were gentle yet firm as he backed me toward the living room, the heat of his body practically radiating against mine. I could feel my pulse quicken with every step he took. When my backside finally met the armrest of the sofa, a shock of electricity shot through me, my heart hammering in my chest.
He didn’t give me a moment to breathe before his hands were on me again, this time lifting me effortlessly, laying me down onto the sofa. I gasped slightly as I landed, and Yoongi followed, his body pressing over mine, his presence suffocating in the best way.
His eyes never left mine, and the way he hovered above me, his weight just barely touching me, made my stomach twist with anticipation. "Are you gonna tell me to stop, Y/N?" Yoongi's voice was rough, but there was something almost challenging in it. He leaned in slightly, the tip of his nose grazing mine as he waited for my response. "Or are you actually gonna admit how much you want this? That this is actually happening."
I swallowed hard, my mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. I was caught between every instinct screaming at me to push him away, to stop this before it went any further, and another side of me that wanted to give in, to feel everything he was offering without hesitation.
His lips hovered just inches from mine, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, making my heart race. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I just looked at him, trying to understand what this all meant.
The silence between us was almost suffocating now, the tension thick as I weighed my next move. Yoongi didn’t pull away, didn’t pressure me further. He just waited, giving me space, but still holding me in place with that unyielding gaze of his.
For a moment, I thought I might choke on the words I wanted to say. But the truth was, I already knew. I couldn’t deny it anymore.
"I—" My voice faltered, and I quickly cleared my throat, suddenly feeling exposed. "I want this," I admitted, the words coming out breathlessly, almost as if they were ripped from me. It was scary, letting the truth hang in the air between us, but it felt... necessary.
Yoongi’s eyes softened, just a little. He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine once more, but this time, it wasn’t a question. It was an answer, his answer to everything we had left unsaid.
Despite the clothes still between us, I wrapped my legs around his body, pulling him closer, craving more of the intimacy building between us. Yoongi’s voice was low and dripping with desire as he whispered, “Good, because I’ve been dying to know how you taste…”
Smirking, he lowered himself further, letting his breath ghost over my pants. My heart raced as I gave him a silent nod, granting permission. Slowly, he unzipped them, his movements deliberate and teasing. My breath hitched as he slid my pants down my legs, throwing them on the floor. Just as he hooked a finger under my panties to remove them, I gently stopped his hand.
“Wait…” I whispered, my voice shaky. Gathering what little confidence I had, I added, “It’s only fair you lose a piece of clothing too.”
His eyebrow quirked up in amusement. “Desperate to see me naked already, Y/N?” he teased.
“Huh, you’re the one who just claimed you’ve been dying to know how I—”
Before I could finish, Yoongi silenced me with a kiss, his lips rough and insistent, leaving me breathless. His tongue swept against mine, teeth grazing in just the right way. When he finally pulled back to let us catch our breath, he reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. Smirking, he stood before me, his torso now bare, revealing his defined muscles despite the soft lines of his body.
“There. Happy now?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.
This man. Such a tease.
“Much better,” I quipped with a smirk of my own.
“Now, let me finish what I started,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. “Let you experience my famous tongue technology...…” His lips quirked into a mischievous smile as he lowered himself between my thighs, his hands trailing down to hook under the waistband of my panties. He slipped them down with tantalizing slowness, his fingers brushing against my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“Who calls—” I started, but the words dissolved into a gasp as his tongue made its first bold stroke, fast and deliberate, over my folds. My head fell back against the sofa, a moan escaping before I could even think to stop it.
He didn’t give me time to recover. His tongue moved again, sweeping over me with precision, eliciting another sharp cry. Each stroke was firm, purposeful, and maddeningly good. My body arched into him, instinctively chasing the pleasure he so expertly provided.
“Yoongi,” I managed to whisper, my voice shaky and strained, but he didn’t respond, not with words at least. Instead, his lips and tongue continued their relentless exploration, the wet heat of his mouth driving me to the edge of reason.
My hands shot to his hair, my fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling lightly, not to guide him, but to ground myself. His name fell from my lips in fragmented pleas, each one blending into the next. His low hum of approval vibrated against me, sending an electric shock straight to my core.
He reached for one of my knees, pushing it further aside to open me up to him completely. His grip was firm yet gentle, and the shift only deepened the intensity of his attention. His tongue flicked, swirled, and teased, hitting every spot that made my body tremble.
The room was thick with the sound of my ragged breathing and unrestrained moans. Each cry seemed to fuel him, urging him on as his pace quickened. I gripped his hair tighter, the sensation building with every stroke. A hand reached for his shoulder, my nails grazing the smooth heat of his skin.
“Yoongi…” I whimpered, my voice shaky and raw, a desperate plea in the form of his name.
He pulled back briefly, his lips glistening as he looked up at me with a devilish smirk. “That was to answer your question,” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. He ran his tongue slowly over his lips, collecting anything he’d missed, and the sight alone sent another wave of heat through me.
I couldn’t let him have the upper hand, not entirely. Tugging at his hair, I directed him back between my thighs. “Less talking,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, “more doing.”
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating against me as he dove back in without hesitation. This time, his movements were even more determined, his tongue working with an intensity that made me cry out. My body writhed against him, my breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps as I clung to him, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through me.
Yoongi’s hands gripped my thighs firmly, keeping me in place as he worked his magic. His tongue alternated between long, teasing strokes and quick, precise flicks, sending me spiraling closer to the edge.
He was relentless, unyielding, and devastatingly good. Too good. If he could do this with just his tongue, the thought of what else he could do made my head spin. The heat pooling low in my belly grew hotter, tighter, until it felt like I might combust.
“Yoongi,” I gasped, my voice breaking as my body tensed beneath his touch. “I think I’m gonna—”
“Cum on my mouth, baby,” he murmured against me, his voice low and commanding, the vibrations sending me over the edge.
I shattered, my release hitting me like a tidal wave. My back arched, my head falling back as his name tore from my lips in a broken cry. My vision blurred, and for a moment, all I could feel was the overwhelming heat of pleasure washing over me.
He didn’t stop, his tongue continuing to lap at me, drawing out every last tremor until I was trembling beneath him. When he finally pulled back, his face was smug, his lips glistening as he swiped his tongue over them again.
“You taste better than I imagined,” he murmured, and my cheeks flushed at his confession. How many times had this man fantasized about this? It wasn’t like I hadn’t entertained some dirty thoughts over the past weeks, but hearing him say it out loud, so unabashedly, felt different.
Before I could reply, Yoongi leaned back up and kissed me passionately, sharing the taste of myself on his lips. The kiss was deep and consuming, his tongue sweeping over mine with deliberate slowness. Then he trailed wet kisses down to my neck, biting softly, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make a point. It was possessive in the most exciting way.
As he toyed with the hem of my shirt, I decided to turn the tables. My hands moved to the waistband of his pants undoing his zipper. He froze for a moment, his eyes wide, searching mine. “Y/N… you don’t have to. Just because—”
“I want to,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest. His breath escaped in a shaky exhale at my words.
“Besides,” I teased, leaning in closer, my lips brushing against his ear, “let me show you what other sounds these hands can produce.”
I bit my bottom lip as I pulled his pants down completely, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. My hand brushed over him, his length already hard and straining against the fabric. My fingers lightly grazed over him, stroking just enough to tease. Yoongi hissed, a mix of pleasure and frustration.
“Y/N… don’t tease me,” he groaned, his voice thick with need.
“Me? Tease you?” I feigned innocence, grinning up at him as my hand continued its slow, deliberate motions. He let out a shaky breath, his hips instinctively bucking toward my touch.
I leaned up to capture his lips again, all while my hand maintained its slow, torturous rhythm. “Y/N…” Yoongi moaned, the sound low and drawn out.
With that, I tugged his boxers down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. My hand wrapped around him, the heat and hardness startling me for a moment. Pre-cum was already dripping from his tip, and I swiped my thumb over it, spreading it along his length as he trembled beneath my touch.
His hips instinctively bucked forward, chasing the friction as a low groan escaped his lips. My fingers moved deliberately, starting with slow, measured strokes that made his thighs tense beneath me.
“Y/N…” His voice was barely above a whisper, a strained mixture of need and restraint.
I leaned forward, brushing a kiss along his jawline before murmuring, “Relax.” My breath was hot against his skin, and I could feel the shudder it sent through his body.
One hand worked up and down his length, my palm twisting slightly with each stroke, while the other cupped and teased his balls, massaging them gently. His body responded to every touch, his muscles taut and trembling as he fought to stay in control.
“Fuck…” he groaned, his brows furrowed, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his chest heaved with uneven breaths.
The intimacy of it all had my own heart racing, my body reacting to the sight of him unraveling beneath me. My hand picked up speed, stroking him faster and firmer, my thumb gliding over his sensitive tip with each pass.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, his voice rough and breathless.
“Good,” I teased, leaning in to kiss his collarbone, my lips trailing over the sharp lines of his neck. “That’s the idea.”
His hips lifted again, chasing the rhythm of my hand. His groans deepened, each one more desperate than the last. The sounds he made were intoxicating, sending heat pooling low in my belly.
“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice cracking slightly. One of his hands reached out, gripping my thigh tightly as though he needed something to anchor himself.
Yoongi eyes fluttered open, locking onto mine with a fiery intensity. “I’m—”
“I know,” I cut him off softly, my hand never slowing.
His half-lidded eyes met mine, his skin glistening with sweat. “Where…?” he managed to ask, his voice barely audible.
I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I went to my knees and opened my mouth, holding his gaze. His expression faltered for a split second, a mix of desperation and awe flashing across his face.
Yoongi adjusted slightly, taking his cock in his own hand, his body hovering over mine, and with a few more strokes, he spilled into my mouth. I took everything, swallowing it down as I maintained eye contact. His breathing was ragged, and I could feel the slight tremble in his legs as I kissed the tip of his cock, making sure nothing was left behind.
When it was over, he sank down, his body pressing against mine. His lips found mine again, kissing me deeply, as if he couldn’t get enough.
When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against my shoulder, his voice soft but filled with satisfaction. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”
Yoongi’s hand trailed lazily across my skin, finding the thin strap of my bra under my shirt. “Next time,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “I’ll make sure you’re not wearing anything at all.”
He hooked a finger under the strap, pulling it slightly before letting it snap back against my skin with a soft smack. I gasped, half-laughing, and swatted at his chest, but he just grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
With a satisfied sigh, he stood up, stretching slightly before scanning the room. His pants and boxers lay crumpled on the floor a few steps away. “As much as I love this view,” he teased, casting a lingering look at me sprawled on the sofa now, “we might want to at least partially dress before someone accidentally walks in.”
Rolling my eyes, even though I lived alone, I reached down to grab my panties, slipping them on with a quick movement. “Happy now?” I quipped, arching an eyebrow as he smirked at me.
“Not entirely,” he shot back smoothly, already heading to the smaller sofa across the room. He grabbed the folded blanket and returned to the larger couch where I laid, tossing it over us as he sat back down and pulled me toward him.
“And why is that?” I teased, arching a brow as I snuggled into his chest.
He smirked, his arms wrapping securely around me as he scooped me into a comfortable position against him. His warmth enveloped me, and I felt myself relaxing despite my teasing words.
“Because, I’ve been messing up so far,” he said, his voice soft but firm, “ but I’m not letting you go away this time.”
I blinked, startled by the quiet sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t just a playful remark; it felt like a promise, one that made my heart flutter and my chest tighten all at once.
“You’re stuck with me now, Y/N,” he added, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Hope you can handle that.”
I couldn’t help but smile, burying my face against his chest to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “We’ll see,” I replied softly, my voice muffled away.
For the first time in a long while, I felt safe. Wrapped in his arms, I allowed myself to close my eyes, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.
***
The next morning, I woke up to an unsettling emptiness. The warmth of Yoongi’s embrace from last night was gone, replaced by the coolness of the sofa beneath me. Disoriented, I blinked against the soft morning light streaming through the curtains. Everything about last night had felt surreal—like the universe had finally shifted into place. But now, as I sat up and looked around the room, it all felt like a dream.
My gaze darted to the floor, where his shirt had been tossed haphazardly, and the hallway where his shoes had been kicked off. They were gone. Every trace of him had vanished. A sinking feeling settled in my chest.
Did he regret this? Was it a mistake for him?
I couldn’t stop the questions from flooding my mind, each one louder and more insistent than the last. For me, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not even close. Last night had been a moment of pure, unfiltered connection, a night that felt like it had shattered every barrier between us.
But had it meant the same to him?
Frustration began to bubble up, mixed with a touch of anger. If he had regrets, he should’ve said something. Leaving like this? That was low.
Determined not to let him get away with it, I marched to my room, pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and a casual shirt. If he thought he could disappear without a word, he had another thing coming. The moment I was tugging on my shoes, ready to storm out and demand answers, my phone buzzed on the coffee table.
I snatched it up, my frustration spilling over as I saw Minji’s name on the screen. Great, this better not be about work, I thought as I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I said curtly.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Minji’s tone was brisk but edged with concern.
“What do you mean?” I asked, more annoyed than curious.
Minji sighed heavily on the other end. “That’s good. You’re fine. I was worried for a second. Didn’t you hear? Someone raided HYBE last night. A crazy fan broke in and they believe they were trying to expose Suga’s album.”
“What?” I froze, my heart skipping a beat as her words sank in.
“Yeah, it’s all over the news this morning. Security’s gone into overdrive,” Minji continued. “Anyway, just wanted to check if you were caught up in any of it.”
“I have to go,” I said abruptly, hanging up before she could respond.
My mind raced. If HYBE had been raided and rumours about Yoongi’s album were true, then that meant he must be there.
I grabbed my car keys and drove as fast as I could, keeping just within the speed limits. My mind buzzed with thoughts about Yoongi and everything Minji had said. Twenty minutes later, I pulled up in front of HYBE.
I stepped inside, my pulse quickening as I made my way through the familiar halls. When I reached the studio, I stopped in my tracks. Yoongi was pacing back and forth, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. He hadn’t noticed me yet, too absorbed in his conversation.
“Please make sure they’re caught and thoroughly questioned about what they saw,” he said, his tone firm but composed. Whoever he was speaking to replied, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know we had contracts here. Honestly, I don’t care about the album, it’s going to get released soon anyway. What matters is that Producer K’s information stays protected. Make sure no sensitive details leak, okay?” He paused to listen again. “Alright. Call me as soon as you have any updates.”
As he ended the call, his gaze finally landed on me. I was frozen in place, trying to process the past 24 hours, the intimacy, the sudden emptiness when I woke up, and now this chaos.
“Hey,” I said, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?”
Yoongi’s expression softened when he saw me, but the stress in his posture remained. He sighed and motioned for me to sit down, but I stayed standing, waiting for answers.
“Someone broke into HYBE last night,” he began, his voice steady but laced with frustration. “They managed to get into a secure area. Luckily, nothing was taken, at least nothing physical, but there’s still a risk of leaks.”
I blinked, processing his words. “So… this morning—”
He cut me off with a sheepish smile. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve woken you up, but you looked so peaceful, and I didn’t want to disturb you. When I got the call, I panicked. I didn’t even think, I just grabbed my stuff and rushed over here. I had to make sure everything was locked down. The NDAs, your information, everything. But I think we’re okay. Nothing seems to have been compromised.”
My chest loosened at his explanation, relief washing over me. “So… you didn’t leave because you regretted it?” My voice came out quieter than I intended. “It felt like… maybe you didn’t care about anything that happened yesterday.”
Yoongi’s eyes widened, and he stepped closer to me, closing the distance between us in just a few strides. “Ahh, baby,” he said, his tone filled with disbelief. “Are you kidding me? How could I ever regret it?”
He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, soft and lingering. The kiss was brief, but the warmth of it stayed with me. As he pulled back, he smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. Without another word, he scooped me up effortlessly, his hands firm on my thighs as he lifted me.
“Yoongi!” I squealed, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck.
“You’re stuck with me now,” he teased, his smirk deepening as he carried me toward the door. My back pressed against it as he gently pushed me, one of his hands leaving my body just long enough to twist the lock. The soft click echoed in the quiet room. His eyes flickered with something darker, more intense, as he leaned in closer.
“And don’t even think about doubting me again,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
Before I could respond, Yoongi moved us again, carrying me to the producer’s table, the one we’d spent countless hours working on together. He placed me on top of it, the cold surface pressing against my thighs. My body shifted slightly, the edge of the keyboard beneath me accidentally activating a few buttons with soft clicks and beeps.
A mischievous smirk spread across his face as he leaned over me, caging me in with his arms on either side. “Looks like we’re making more music, Producer K,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.
Immediately his lips captured mine, soft and demanding all at once. The kiss deepened almost instantly, his hand threading into my hair to tilt my head for better access. I gasped against his mouth as his other hand slid down, gripping my waist firmly to keep me anchored to him.
The kiss was electric, slow, and yet so full of intensity it left me breathless. His tongue brushed against mine, coaxing me into a rhythm that made my heart race. My hands found their way to his shoulders, then slid up behind his neck, pulling him even closer.
Yoongi let out a low hum of approval, the sound vibrating against my lips. The tension in the room grew thicker with every passing second. His teeth grazed my bottom lip, tugging gently before he soothed it with another kiss.
“You taste soo good,” he whispered against my mouth, his breath warm and tantalizing. He kissed me again, harder this time, as though he was trying to erase any lingering doubts from my mind.
“Are you going to fuck me or not?” I asked, my voice laced with impatience and desire. Enough with the teasing, I wanted him, here and now.
A smirk played on his lips as he looked at me. “Yes, right here on this table,” he murmured, his voice deep and full of promise. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”
Slowly he reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. His dark eyes lingered on me as he kept his promise from the night before. He leaned down, gently biting one of my bra straps and pulling it down with his teeth, the act equal parts sensual and possessive. Then his hand slid the other strap off my shoulder, his fingers brushing over my skin in a way that sent shivers racing down my spine.
His hands unclasped my bra, letting it fall away completely. The cool air of the room ghosted over my now-bare skin, goosebumps forming in its wake. His gaze was hungry, appreciative, as he took me in.
He didn’t waste a moment, cupping both of my breasts in his warm hands. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, teasing them until they hardened under his touch. Leaning in, he wrapped his lips around one, his tongue swirling and flicking while his other hand kneaded the other.
A soft moan escaped my lips as my hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. My legs around his waist instinctively pull his body closer and flush against mine. The hardness of his arousal pressed against my clothed core, teasing me further.
Yoongi groaned softly against my skin, his breath hot as he alternated between kissing and sucking on my sensitive flesh. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, his lips glistening as he grinned down at me.
“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. He stood upright and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion.
The sight of his toned chest and the way his muscles moved as he tossed the shirt aside made my breath hitch. My hands instinctively trailed over his bare skin, feeling the heat of him beneath my palms.
He proceeded to slide my pants down along with my panties in one smooth motion, leaving me bare beneath him. My cheeks flushed as I turned my head to the side, shying away from his gaze. The reality of the moment hit me, this was happening, in the studio no less. Something I had never done before, especially not with a co-worker. I had always been professional, keeping clear boundaries. But Yoongi? He was different. He was so much more.
Before my thoughts could spiral further, two of his fingers gently grasped my chin, tilting my face back toward him. His dark eyes softened as they met mine, a faint smile curling his lips. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine adoration.
He leaned down and kissed me deeply, his lips moving against mine with a passion that made me forget all my worries. When he pulled away, I was left breathless, my body trembling.
Without breaking eye contact, he stepped back and slid his boxers down, his cock springing free in a way that had my stomach tightening with need. He reached into a nearby drawer, pulling out a condom. The sight of him, so confident and focused, made my mouth water.
I whimpered softly, my body arching toward him. “Please…” I whispered, my voice trembling with desperation.
Yoongi smirked at my plea as he rolled the condom over his length slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. He moved closer, his cock teasing my entrance as he pressed the tip against me, applying just enough pressure to drive me wild.
Then he pulled back, a devilish grin on his lips.
“Yoongi!” I cried out, my hands gripping his shoulders in frustration.
Yoongi chuckled softly at my frustration, his deep voice resonating in the quiet studio. “Patience, baby,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I want to savour this.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, but my body was anything but patient. My legs tightened around his hips, trying to draw him closer. He gave in just a little, letting his tip press further against my entrance, his cock teasing me.
“Please…” I whimpered again, my voice trembling.
“God, you’re so needy,” he murmured, but there was no mockery in his tone, only a mixture of desire and affection. He pressed forward slightly, just enough to stretch me, and the sensation made my breath hitch.
He paused, his hand brushing over my cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his gaze searching mine.
“Yes,” I breathed, nodding. “I need you, Yoongi… all of you.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly, he pushed into me, his cock filling me inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming in the best way, an exquisite mix of pleasure and pressure that made me gasp. My nails dug into his shoulders as he slid himself fully inside me, both of us pausing to catch our breaths.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, his head dropping to my shoulder. His lips brushed against my skin, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses as he began to move.
The first few thrusts were slow and deliberate, his hips rolling against mine in a rhythm that made me lose all sense of time and place. My moans filled the room, blending with the soft sounds of his breathless grunts and the quiet creak of the table beneath us.
“Yoongi…” I gasped, my hands sliding down to his waist to pull him closer. His movements grew more intense, each thrust hitting deeper, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.
His hand slid down to my thigh, lifting it higher to change the angle, and the new position made me cry out. “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.”
I clung to him, my body arching into his as the tension built to an unbearable peak. Every movement, every touch, was driving me closer to the edge. His name fell from my lips in a breathless chant, and I could feel his body tensing too, his control slipping with each passing second.
“I’m close,” I managed to gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pressed my forehead against his.
“Not so fast…” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. In one swift motion, he pulled out completely, leaving me trembling and desperate for more. He grabbed my hips, pulling me down and guiding me to turn around. His hand on my back guided me to lean forward, making my chest press against the cool surface of the studio desk. I tried to make myself stable, hands roaming over the desk for support when I accidentally hit a button on the keyboard that sounded like the recording audio one.
“Yoongi, I think I—”
“Leave it on,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust. His hands ran down my sides, gripping my hips firmly as he aligned himself behind me. Without another word, he thrust into me again, harder this time, making me cry out in surprise and pleasure.
The new angle was overwhelming, his movements fast and relentless, each thrust sending shockwaves through my body. My hands scrambled for something better to hold on to, finding the edge of the desk as I felt my climax building faster than ever before.
“Yoongi,” I moaned, my voice trembling. “I’m going to—”
“Me too,” he groaned, his pace quickening. His fingers tightened on my hips, pulling me back to meet every thrust.
The tension inside me snapped like a rubber band, and I shattered around him, a cry escaping my lips as waves of pleasure consumed me. His name fell from my lips in broken gasps, my body trembling with the force of my release.
“Fuck,” Yoongi hissed behind me, his movements growing erratic as he followed me over the edge. With a low groan, he stilled, his hands gripping me tightly as he emptied himself into the condom.
We stayed silent for a moment, both of us catching our breaths as the studio filled with the sound of our laboured breathing. Yoongi’s hand slid up my back, his touch gentle now as he leaned down to press a soft kiss between my shoulders.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice softer than before, filled with a mix of affection and satisfaction.
I turned my head slightly to glance at him, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the lingering haze of pleasure. “You’re pretty perfect yourself,” I replied breathlessly.
His lips quirked into a smirk as he helped me straighten up, his hands still lingering on my waist. “You keep driving me crazy when there’s work to be done,” he said, his voice still low, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Work?” I teased, arching an eyebrow.
We both laughed softly, the tension replaced by a comfortable warmth as we started dressing up together. After fixing ourselves up, Yoongi and I sat back at the desk, quietly adjusting to the shift from intimacy to professionalism.
A sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. My eyes widened as I glanced at the screen. The red "REC" light was still blinking, the audio still rolling.
"Wait," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but my heart was racing. "Yoongi... the recording…"
Yoongi's gaze followed mine to the screen.
I stifled a laugh, trying to process the situation. "We... we didn’t just—"
"We did," he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he reached for the mouse, clicking the stop button on the recording. The sudden silence felt almost louder than the chaos that had just unfolded.
There was a long pause before either of us spoke, and then Yoongi burst into a fit of laughter, the tension completely evaporating. "I can't believe you hit the record by accident," he said between chuckles, shaking his head. "That’s... that's going to be something to remember."
I shook my head, laughing despite the embarrassment that was slowly creeping in. "Oh my god, I didn’t mean to! What if—what if someone listens to that? You have to delete it…"
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, still chuckling. "Relax, I’m pretty sure the only one who’s ever going to hear that is you... and maybe me, when I’m in need of some... inspiration."
I shot him a mock glare. "You’re terrible."
But the laughter between us continued, as if we’d both just acknowledged the absurdity of it all. "Alright, alright," I said, regaining some composure. "So, do we actually erase it... or keep it as a very private memory?"
Yoongi eyed the screen for a moment, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think we keep it," he said with a smirk. "Just in case we ever need to prove who’s really in charge around here."
I raised an eyebrow, a challenge in my smile. "I still have to work with you..."
Yoongi leaned closer, his smirk widening. "We can always record something else to balance it out."
My face flushed again, but this time, it was the shared humour that made the tension feel lighter. The teasing, the jokes, the way we were able to slip back into this comfortable space of banter, it made the moment feel normal again.
***
As time passed, Yoongi and I quietly navigated our secret relationship, keeping things low-key while indulging in countless late-night dates after work. Between stolen moments in the studio, quick getaways to his place, and intimate sessions that blurred the line between work and personal time, we found our rhythm. Every touch, every kiss, every fleeting glance became a quiet promise, a bond that only grew stronger despite the secrecy. The sexual tension between us was undeniable, and we gave into it time and time again, the boundaries between us disappearing with every heated exchange.
April 17 arrived, and Yoongi and I were standing in J-Hope’s living room. It was a quiet evening before the storm of emotions that would come the next day, J-Hope was leaving for the military, and Yoongi was going to see him off tomorrow. As much as I wanted to be there for the farewell, I knew I couldn’t. Not yet. My identity had to still stay hidden, my relationship with Yoongi too, at least for now.
Yoongi caught my eye from across the room, a soft smile playing at his lips as he walked over to where I was standing by the window. "You okay?" he asked quietly, concern flickering in his gaze.
I forced a smile, trying to hide the tension I felt. "Yeah, just thinking about tomorrow," I said, glancing over at J-Hope, who was still chatting with some of the others in the room. "You’re going to see him off right?"
"Of course," Yoongi replied, his voice warm but heavy with the realization that things were changing. "He’s my brother. I’m not going to let him go without saying goodbye properly."
I nodded, feeling a pang of longing. "I wish I could be there, but... you know why I can’t."
"I know," Yoongi murmured, squeezing my hand. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "It’s just... it’s tough for both of us, huh?"
I nodded again, my chest tight. "Yeah. It’s not just about J-Hope going. It’s about the secrecy, the not being able to show anyone who we are... it gets exhausting."
Before Yoongi could respond, J-Hope called out from across the room, his voice teasing. "Yoongi, Y/N! You two are awfully quiet over there. What’s going on?"
I looked up and forced a grin, trying to act casual. "Nothing, just—"
J-Hope walked over with a playful glint in his eyes, crossed his arms. "You know, I’ve always seen the tension between you two," he said with a teasing smirk. "That’s why I kept pushing Y/N to hang out with me when Yoongi was around. I had to give him a little nudge."
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by J-Hope’s words. "Really? You were the one pushing her?"
I laughed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Well, it worked, didn’t it?"
J-Hope chuckled, but his smile softened as he looked between the two of us. "I get it now. You two are like an open secret. But listen," he continued, his tone more serious, "tomorrow, when I’m gone, make sure you both take care of yourselves. Yoongi, I know you’ll look after her. And Y/N, be good to him, alright?"
I nodded, the words heavy in my chest. "I will. You just... you just be safe, okay? Come back to us soon."
Yoongi echoed my sentiment, his voice steady and sincere. "Take care of yourself, man. We’ve got your back. Always."
J-Hope smiled at us both, his eyes a mixture of gratitude and affection. "I know. Thanks, guys. I’ll miss you both."
***
The next day, after Yoongi returned from seeing J-Hope off, we somehow managed to finish the last track just before the deadline. It felt like a weight lifted off our shoulders. The album, which had been months in the making, was finally ready, set to release on April 21st with nine tracks. It was a huge achievement, and that night, we celebrated in typical Yoongi fashion, with whiskey at his place, and, well, sex. The kind of passionate, no-holds-barred kind that made me forget about the stress of the last few months.
The following days leading up to the album release were a whirlwind. We couldn't spend much time together, since Yoongi had a full schedule of promotional activities. Meanwhile, I was at home, taking the rare opportunity to relax and mentally prepare for the next project Minji had set up for me. Life was moving quickly, and I knew the grind would start again soon.
That night, as I was settling into my evening routine, my phone buzzed with a notification. Yoongi's live stream was about to start. He had mentioned earlier that his company would have him livestream his full album for his fans to celebrate the release. I was excited, though admittedly a little nervous to hear how the tracks we worked on together sounded to the public.
I clicked on the stream and watched as Yoongi greeted his fans, his usual cool demeanor giving way to the warmth of being surrounded by people who admired his work. I listened closely as he played the first six songs, the ones he had worked on solo. Each track was a piece of his soul, his sound so distinct and raw. Then came the three songs we collaborated on, and I couldn’t help but smile. Hearing them in front of thousands of fans was surreal, but in a way, it felt like we were still connected. Every note, every lyric felt like a reflection of the quiet moments we shared, the time we spent creating together.
As the ninth track played, I expected the stream to wrap up, but then Yoongi’s voice came through again. It was softer this time, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should say the words that were coming.
“This last song is a very last-minute addition to the album,” he began, his tone low and a little more introspective. “Making this album have a total of 10 tracks. I felt like this album was missing something... and this track summarizes everything that’s been going on with me lately. It’s called SDL.”
I froze, heart pounding in my chest. I hadn’t known about this last-minute addition to the album. I thought everything had been finalized. But here he was, introducing a track that was somehow more personal than any of the others. My stomach tightened as the beat dropped, and the chorus rang out:
"Yeah, somebody does love
But I'm thinking 'bout you."
The lyrics hit me like a wave, each word carrying a weight that I couldn’t ignore. It felt so raw, so vulnerable. Before I could process it all, I grabbed my stuff and rushed out the door. I knew Yoongi would still be at HYBE, where the livestream was taking place. Without thinking twice, I jumped into my car, determined to get there. The song had caught me completely off guard, and I needed to see him. I needed to understand what this song really meant.
It wasn’t just a track—it was a message. A message that had left me reeling, and I wasn’t going to wait to figure it out.
I arrived at HYBE, my heart still racing from the drive. As I stepped out, I caught sight of Jihoon leaving the building, and without thinking, I called out to him.
"Is Yoongi still here?"
"Yeah, last time I saw him, it was just a few minutes ago at the studio," Jihoon replied casually.
I didn't even say goodbye as I ran inside toward the studio, my mind set on finding Yoongi. When I reached the door and pushed it open, I could tell it wasn’t the same as the first time we met, where his eyes had been skeptical and full of surprise. This time, when our eyes met, I saw something completely different, softness, warmth, and love.
I closed the door behind me and moved closer to him, my breath still catching up from the run.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Yoongi asked, his voice laced with concern. He came to me, his hands instinctively reaching up to fix my hair, his touch gentle as he noticed my flustered state.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "That last song, I saw your live... where did that come from? I thought the album had only 9 tracks."
Yoongi paused, his hands lingering in my hair as he gave me a soft smile. "As I said on the live, that song is what’s been going on in my head these past couple of months."
I raised an eyebrow, still trying to piece it together. "So, you mean to tell me... I’m your inspiration?"
He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yes. You know I’m not great with my feelings, and better than anyone, you understand how hard it is for me to express myself. With everything that’s been going on between us lately… I thought this would be the clearest way to show you how I feel, the way we know best: through music."
“Why didn’t you play it for me before? In private?” I asked, my voice soft but laced with curiosity.
“I wanted it to be a surprise, like a big romantic gesture that only we would recognize,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. “I felt like I needed to redeem myself for how I acted at the start. To be honest, we were so good together that I’m sure we could’ve finished those tracks in less than a month. But I kept being a jerk, nit-picking everything just so we’d have to restart. It was selfish, but I wanted to steal every last minute with you. You walked into this studio and captured my heart and soul with everything you are, and I wasn’t ready to let that go so easily.”
His words hit me with full force, my heart pounding in my chest as the weight of his confession settled. I stepped closer, my emotions bubbling to the surface, and before I could think or say anything more, my lips found Yoongi’s. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if I were trying to tell him everything I couldn’t put into words. It was a kiss full of everything: love, apology, understanding, and a promise for more. We didn’t need more words, just the closeness, the music, and the quiet understanding between us. The kiss deepened, and in that moment, we both knew: this was just the beginning.
Summary: Jin of BTS has mastered the stage, but at 34, he's losing the battle at home, his mother won't stop pushing him toward marriage. When she arranges an "innocent" dinner with the daughter of a longtime family friend, Jin is furious. He has no time for romance, let alone an arranged setup. But fate throws him off balance when he meets Y/N, a sharp, ambitious woman who has no interest in being tied down either. From awkward encounters and fiery banter to a shocking proposal of a fake marriage, the two find themselves caught between family expectations and their own desires. What begins as a scheme to free themselves from relentless matchmaking soon stirs something real, something neither of them planned for. Love, duty, and deception collide in this slow-burn romance. Can Jin and Y/N keep up the act, or will the lines between pretense and passion blur beyond repair?
A/N: This story has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, and I’m so excited to finally share it. Since Tumblr won’t let me post it all at once, I’ve had to split it into two parts, even though it’s technically a one-shot 🥺. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it! Feel free to share your thoughts 💕
Love the story? ☕ Support me on Ko-fi! 💕
Read Part 1 here.
I arrived at Jin’s place and rang the doorbell. The moment he opened the door, I didn’t give him a chance to say a word. I stepped inside, already talking.
“Look, Jin, you obviously couldn’t come, but you can’t leave your girlfriend in that situation, so I decided to—”
“Y/N—” Jin started, but I was already halfway through removing my shoes and coat.
Then, as I turned around, I suddenly realized my surroundings. I wasn’t alone in Jin’s private space. Instead, I was standing in the living room with all six other BTS members sitting around, looking at me. I froze, my coat falling to the floor as I awkwardly waved.
“Great…” I muttered, still processing the fact that I was not alone in the room.
Jimin’s eyes widened, his expression unreadable. “Girlfriend?? So it wasn’t a paid actor you hired to cover for your cousin?”
I glanced over at Jin, who was now standing beside me, looking like he wanted to disappear. Before anyone could say anything else, Jin grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the nearest room, his face red. "I’ll explain later," he muttered to the others.
I followed Jin into the room, my mind racing as I tried to make sense of everything. He shut the door behind us, and I stood there for a moment, still processing the awkwardness of walking into the living room with all the guys staring at me like that.
“Jin,” I started, crossing my arms in front of me. “What is going on? Why is everyone here? And why didn’t you tell me there would be others here too?”
Jin sighed, rubbing his temples, looking like he was regretting everything. "You didn’t let me finish on the phone," he said defensively, clearly flustered. "I was about to tell you, but you just hung up on me! I didn’t have a chance to explain."
I threw my hands up in the air, exasperated. "You could have texted me! A heads-up would’ve been nice!"
“Shit, you’re right,” Jin admitted, looking down at his shoes for a second before looking back up at me.
I shook my head, still trying to process the situation. “So how much do they know? They think I’m some... paid actor? What am I supposed to do now?”
Jin ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "No, it’s not like that. I mean, they know something’s up, but they don’t know all the details. I just... didn’t know how to explain this whole fake marriage thing to them without making it weird."
I let out a frustrated breath, my fingers tapping against my arms. "So they think I’m just here for the company’s PR, playing a part, and that’s it? No one even knows what’s going on, and you’ve been keeping me in the dark too!"
Jin stepped closer, his tone turning more serious. "It’s not like that, okay? I just... I didn’t know how to handle it, especially with the guys. They’re not exactly the best at keeping things under wraps. I didn't want to make it worse."
I stared at him for a moment, trying to calm myself down. "Well, you definitely made it worse by not telling me. I feel like I just walked into some bizarre sitcom where I’m the ‘fake wife’ that no one knows about."
Jin rubbed his face, clearly worn out. "I’ll fix this. I swear. I’ll talk to them, get it all sorted. It was never supposed to be like this."
I let out a small laugh, though it was more out of disbelief than amusement. Before I could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. Jimin’s voice floated in from the hallway. "Yo, Jin, is everything alright in there?"
Jin shot me a quick glance before calling out, "Yeah, everything’s fine! Just... having a little chat. Go ahead and continue without us!"
I looked at Jin again, rubbing my temples. "This is going to be... interesting, isn’t it?"
He gave me a sheepish smile. "You have no idea."
Jin took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Alright, here's the deal. The company told me to keep things lowkey and so probably told them you are a paid actor of some sort , so they don't know the real situation. But I’m going to step out in a minute and tell them some of the truth, perhaps that you're actually my real girlfriend. Just... pretend like we're a couple, okay?"
I stared at him for a moment, feeling a little overwhelmed but trying to keep it together. "Okay, I guess that’s what we've been doing all along, right? It's not like we didn’t know this was going to get complicated like this at some point."
Jin nodded, his expression softening, and he gave me a small smile, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, I’ll go tell them the news. You can change into something comfy and grab whatever you need. This is already awkward enough."
I let out a frustrated sigh, but despite the situation, I couldn’t help but smile a little at his casual tone. "This feels like déjà vu," I muttered to myself as Jin left the room.
Soon after I changed into some comfy clothes he laid out for me, I stepped out of the room to find Jin standing, facing the guys who were all seated. The game had clearly been paused when I came in, and they were all listening intently to what Jin had just said. As I entered the living room, I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness.
"Hey, guys," I said, "Sorry about the interruption."
Jin shot me a quick glance, his expression still a little tense, but I could see he was relieved that the worst part was over. The guys looked between each other, processing what had just been explained. It was awkward, but at least the cat was out of the bag.
Jimin was the first to speak up, his signature grin plastered across his face. "So, Jin," he said, glancing between me and him, "didn't take you as someone to keep secrets. A girlfriend, huh? Pretty serious, aren’t we?" He nudged Jin with a wink, and the others snickered.
Taehyung leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "This is news to us, hyung. I thought you were just going to be a bachelor forever. Looks like someone got you good."
I couldn’t help but smile awkwardly, still trying to get used to all of this. Jin was shifting in place, trying to maintain his cool, but the teasing was relentless.
"Come on, guys," Jin said, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. "I had to keep it lowkey for the company. You know how it is."
Yoongi, who had been watching everything with a half-smile, raised an eyebrow. "Lowkey? For the company?" He let out a laugh, crossing his arms. "You couldn't even tell us you were dating her, but now we're supposed to believe this is real?"
Hobi, who had been quiet up until then, chimed in with his usual energy. "So what’s the plan, huh? Are we getting wedding invitations next?" He shot Jin a teasing grin, his eyes sparkling.
Jungkook leaned back, arms folded, looking at Jin curiously. "I didn’t even know you were into this kind of ‘secret relationship.’ How long have you been hiding her?"
Jin was blushing now, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention. "It’s not like that, okay? I didn’t want to bring this up to the group until everything was... clearer. The company said to keep things under wraps."
The guys erupted into laughter again, clearly enjoying themselves as Jin threw his hands up in defeat. "I swear, I didn’t think it would be like this. I thought I could keep it simple, but now you guys just don’t let up, do you?"
Namjoon gave Jin a knowing look. "Hyung, you’re one of the most private people I know. Of course, we wouldn’t let you get away with something like this."
Jungkook grinned. "Yeah, you always act like we don’t notice things. Are we supposed to just pretend we’re not going to be seeing you with her everywhere now?"
Jin groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You guys are worse than the media and fans."
After a few more teasing comments from everyone, the atmosphere finally calmed down, and the focus shifted back to the game. Jin, though still a bit flustered, was now part of the playful banter, and I couldn’t help but feel like this was exactly how things were meant to be – complicated, messy, and full of laughter.
"So, what are you guys playing?" I asked, glancing around at the board and cards scattered on the table.
Hobi, always the one to make things exciting, immediately grinned. "Oh, it’s a team game! We usually take turns playing, but since you’re here, you can join. That way, we’ll have 8 players." He paused, then added with a wink, "And, of course, you’ll be on Jin’s team."
I raised an eyebrow, trying to hide the small smirk creeping up. "Oh, I’m on Jin’s team? How convenient."
The guys chuckled, but then I had a thought. "Wait, which one of you guys bickers with Jin the most?"
Instantly, every single one of the guys turned their gaze toward Jungkook, who had been sitting back, sipping on his drink. He looked up, his face giving off a knowing expression. "What? Me?" he asked, pointing at himself dramatically. "I don’t bicker with Jin. I just... disagree sometimes."
Jimin let out a loud laugh. "Disagree? He argues with Jin like they’re in a competition."
I smirked. "Alright, then. I’ll team up with Jungkook."
The table erupted in laughter, and Jin shot me a mock glare. "You’re making a mistake, Y/N," he warned, though there was a playful edge to his voice.
Jungkook gave me a grin, clearly amused by the idea. "You’re in for a real treat, Y/N. Let’s see if you can keep up."
The game started, and the atmosphere was full of laughter and competition. I was quickly drawn into the rhythm of the game, having more fun than I expected. Jungkook and I were in sync, and although the game went on for a while, and it was close, by the end, we had somehow managed to win – beating everyone, including Jin. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him.
"Well, Jin," I said, "looks like you got beat."
Jin groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. "This is so unfair," he said, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. "You must have cheated somehow."
I shook my head, laughing. "Nah, I’m just that good. Guess you’ll have to practice more next time."
The guys erupted into laughter again, clearly enjoying the moment. Jin just shook his head, still pretending to be upset but clearly not bothered. I could tell he was just happy that everything felt more normal again, despite the mess of the situation.
Jungkook shot me a high five. "Nice job, Y/N. You made this game way more fun."
I smiled, feeling lighter than I had all evening. Despite the tension earlier, this moment with the guys was something I wouldn't trade. It was chaotic, messy, and definitely awkward at times, but it was also fun.
***
The door clicked shut as the last of the guys left, their laughter fading into the evening air. Silence settled over the room, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner. Jin and I stood there for a moment, neither of us saying anything. It wasn’t tense, exactly, but there was definitely a shift in the energy now that we were alone.
“So…” I broke the silence, leaning casually against the back of the couch. My lips curled into a smirk as I turned to him. “About earlier…”
Jin raised an eyebrow, his arms crossing defensively. “What about earlier?”
“You lost every single game we played tonight. Every. Single. One,” I said, dragging out the words for emphasis.
He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Are you really bringing this up again? Haven’t you humiliated me enough for one evening?”
“Oh, absolutely not,” I replied, grinning. “What happened to your ‘worldwide handsome’ confidence? Can’t handle losing to little ol’ me?”
Jin’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “Excuse me? Confidence intact. I just think you…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “You distracted me, that’s all.”
“Distracted you? That’s the best you’ve got?” I snorted. “Face it, Kim Seokjin, you’re just bad at games.”
His eyes narrowed, a competitive spark lighting in them. “Oh, is that so? Fine, let’s settle this.”
“Settle what?”
“You and me. One-on-one. Right here, right now.” He gestured to the gaming console still connected to the TV. “I’ll show you who’s really bad at games.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You really want to embarrass yourself again?”
“The only one who’s going to be embarrassed is you,” he shot back, already grabbing the controllers. He handed one to me with a determined expression. “Let’s do this.”
The match began, and to his credit, Jin held his own for the first few minutes. But as the game progressed, it became obvious he wasn’t trying as hard as he could. His movements were just a little too slow, his reactions just a bit delayed. I… was winning. Again.
“You’re letting me win, aren’t you?” I asked suspiciously, pausing the game to glance at him.
He feigned innocence, his eyes wide. “What? Me? Never.”
“Jin.”
“Okay, fine.” He sighed, slumping back into the couch. “Maybe I… wanted you to feel good about yourself. Is that so bad?”
“You’re impossible,” I said, shaking my head. But despite my words, I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face. “Thanks for the pity win, I guess.”
“Anytime.” He winked, setting his controller down. “Now, can we move on to something less humiliating for me?”
I chuckled, standing to stretch. “Like what?”
“A movie,” he suggested. “Something lighthearted. We’ve already destroyed my pride tonight; no need to ruin the rest of my ego.”
“Deal.”
We spent a few minutes debating which movie to watch before settling on a classic comedy. Jin grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen, pouring two generous glasses as we settled onto the couch. The room felt cozier now, the tension from earlier fading into a comfortable warmth.
I wasn’t much of a drinker, but the wine was smooth and went down easier than I expected. By the time the movie was halfway through, my glass was empty, and I’d poured myself another. Jin’s laughter echoed through the room, infectious and genuine, and I couldn’t help but join in.
“You know,” I said, swirling the wine in my glass. “You’re not so bad to hang out with, even if you’re terrible at games.”
“Wow, thank you,” he replied dryly, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “You’re not so bad yourself. For a sore winner.”
I gasped, feigning outrage. “I am not a sore winner!”
“You’ve been rubbing it in my face all night.”
“That’s called savoring the moment,” I corrected him, raising my glass in a mock toast. “Cheers to my glorious victory.”
He rolled his eyes but clinked his glass against mine anyway. “Cheers.”
As the movie played on, the conversation drifted to lighter topics: embarrassing childhood stories, favorite foods, and random anecdotes. But as the wine flowed and the night deepened, the mood shifted again, taking on a quieter, more reflective tone.
“You know,” Jin said softly, staring at his nearly empty glass. “You never really talk about your family. I mean, I’ve heard bits and pieces, but…”
I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the stem of my glass. “There’s not much to tell.”
“Come on, Y/N,” he said gently. “I know that’s not true.”
I sighed, setting my glass down on the coffee table. The wine had loosened my tongue, and while a part of me wanted to brush the topic aside, another part, the part that had grown to trust Jin, felt like maybe it was time to open up.
“It’s just… complicated,” I began. “My mom… she’s… intense. Obsessed with this idea of me getting married, settling down, and… I don’t know. Being perfect, I guess.”
Jin frowned, his brow furrowing. “Why the rush? You’re still young. You have plenty of time for all that.”
“That’s what I keep telling her,” I said, laughing bitterly. “But she doesn’t listen. It’s like she’s living through me, trying to make up for whatever she feels she missed out on. And it’s exhausting.”
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That… sounds like a lot of pressure.”
“It is,” I admitted. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe around her. Like no matter what I do, it’s never enough. And the worst part is, I don’t even know what would be enough.”
Jin was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on me. “That’s not fair to you,” he said finally, his voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of emotion. “You shouldn’t have to live your life trying to meet someone else’s expectations. You deserve to be happy, Y/N. On your terms.”
His words caught me off guard, and I blinked, suddenly feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. I quickly looked away, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “Thanks, Jin,” I said quietly. “That means a lot.”
He reached out, his hand resting lightly on mine. “I mean it. And if you ever need someone to remind you of that, I’m here.”
The movie played on, and as the credits began to roll, I felt my eyelids growing heavier. Jin made a casual comment about the ridiculousness of the final scene, but his voice seemed to fade, becoming part of the cozy haze around me.
Somewhere between the sound of his voice and the comfort of the couch, I drifted off to sleep.
~~Jin's POV~~
Jin noticed the change almost immediately. Your breathing slowed, becoming even and soft. He glanced over, realizing you had fallen asleep, your wine glass still resting precariously in your hand.
He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "You really can't handle your wine, can you?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Carefully, he reached over, taking the glass from your hand and setting it on the table. As he did, his gaze lingered on you for a moment. The way your head was tilted awkwardly against the couch cushion made his neck ache just looking at you.
“Can’t leave you like that,” he muttered to himself.
Moving cautiously, Jin leaned down and slipped one arm under your knees and the other around your back. He lifted you in a bridal carry, suddenly reminding him of the first date.
You stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but you didn’t wake. Jin held his breath, waiting to see if you’d open your eyes. When you didn’t, he let out a soft sigh of relief and carried you toward his room.
Gently, he laid you down on the bed, pulling the covers over you with care. As he stepped back, his eyes lingered on your face. Your usual teasing smirk was absent, replaced by a peaceful expression that made something in his chest tighten.
Just as he turned to leave, he caught sight of something, a single tear rolling down your cheek.
His heart clenched. Were you dreaming? Having a nightmare?
Without thinking, Jin knelt beside the bed, brushing the tear away with his thumb. The touch was light, barely there, but it was enough to make his chest ache with an unfamiliar emotion.
“It’s okay,” he said softly, not sure if he was speaking to you or himself. “You’re okay.”
For a moment, he hesitated, unsure whether to stay or go. Then he pulled the chair from his desk closer to the bed, sitting down to keep watch over you.
“I’ll just stay a little while,” he told himself, leaning back in the chair.
But as the minutes passed, his head grew heavier. His eyelids fluttered shut, and before he realized it, he’d drifted off to sleep, his arms crossed over his chest and his body angled protectively toward you.
~~Y/N’s POV~~
I stirred awake, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The first thing I noticed was the unfamiliar softness of the bed beneath me. I frowned, sitting up slowly. Looking around, it hit me, I was in Jin’s bed. His perfectly neat room, complete with a ridiculous number of plushies neatly arranged on a shelf, left no room for doubt.
How did I end up here?
A quick replay of the previous night flashed through my mind: the games, the wine, the movie… and then nothing. I must’ve passed out. But how did I…
The smell of something savory wafted through the air, cutting off my train of thought. My stomach growled involuntarily, and I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My curiosity got the better of me, and I padded out of the room, following the mouthwatering scent.
When I reached the kitchen, the sight that greeted me made me pause.
Jin stood by the stove, his broad shoulders and back facing me as he flipped something in a pan. He was humming softly to himself, the morning light catching the edges of his hair and giving him an almost angelic glow.
I leaned against the doorway, crossing my arms with a smirk. “I could get used to this,” I said, raising an imaginary camera to my face and miming taking a picture.
Jin turned, startled for a split second before his lips curled into a grin. “You’re up.”
“Apparently,” I said, stepping into the kitchen. “Not where I remember falling asleep, though.”
He shrugged, turning back to the stove. “You looked uncomfortable on the couch. Figured I’d let you have the bed.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you? Where’d you sleep?”
He glanced over his shoulder with a casual shrug. “The chair in my room. Didn’t want to leave you alone in case you started sleepwalking or something.”
“Sleepwalking? Really?” I snorted, grabbing a seat at the kitchen island. “How thoughtful of you.”
“Someone has to keep you out of trouble,” he teased, plating whatever he was cooking and bringing it over to the counter.
I looked down to see a beautifully arranged plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. My stomach growled again, louder this time, and Jin smirked.
“Hungry?”
“Starving,” I admitted, grabbing a fork and taking a bite. “Mmm, okay, this is amazing. How are you good at everything?”
“I’m just a man of many talents.” he said while sitting down across from me with his own plate.
“Except gaming,” I quipped, earning a mock glare.
“Do you ever let things go?” he asked, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed his irritation.
“Not when I’m right,” I said sweetly, taking another bite of the pancakes.
Jin shook his head, but I noticed the small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re smug.”
“Cute and smug? I’ll take it,” I said with a wink. “But seriously, this breakfast is incredible. Are you always this domestic?”
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Only for special occasions. Consider yourself lucky.”
We both laughed, the sound filling the cozy kitchen. For a moment, it felt so normal, so easy, that I almost forgot about the craziness of the situation we were in.
“So,” Jin said after a beat, his tone more serious. “Did you sleep okay? You looked… upset last night.”
I blinked, his words catching me off guard. “Upset?”
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “You started tearing up. I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or…”
I hesitated, the memory of our late-night conversation flickering in the back of my mind. “I don’t know. Maybe it was just the wine messing with me.”
Jin didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled softly. “Well, whatever it was, I’m glad you got some rest.”
I nodded, a small smile playing on my lips. “Thanks, Jin. For… everything. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, but you did.”
He shrugged, looking uncharacteristically shy. “What can I say? You’re stuck with me now. Fake or not, I’ve got your back.”
The warmth in his voice made my chest tighten, but I pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the food in front of me.
“Careful, Kim Seokjin,” I said, grinning. “Keep this up, and I might start to think you actually like me.”
He smirked, his confidence snapping back into place. “Who says I don’t?”
“Touché,” I replied, laughing.
***
The cab ride home was quiet, giving me time to scroll through my phone. As soon as I unlocked it, a string of missed calls and messages from my mother stared back at me, her name bold and unrelenting at the top of my notifications.
I sighed, dropping my head back against the seat. Of course, she’d be persistent. I knew the conversation was inevitable, but I couldn’t bring myself to face it just yet. Not when everything was about to change.
Soon, I thought. I’d have to drop the bomb sooner or later. but for now, I wasn’t ready. I silenced my phone and slipped it back into my bag, watching the city blur by outside the window.
Once home, I tried to focus on anything but the impending chaos: tidying up, scrolling aimlessly through social media, even staring at the untouched novel on my coffee table. But the knot in my stomach didn’t loosen until my phone buzzed with a message.
Jin: They’re not disclosing your identity, just confirming the photos were real.That I am in a relationship. Nothing too crazy for now.You good with that?
I exhaled, grateful for the heads-up.
Me: Yeah, that works. Thanks for letting me know.
Jin: Anytime. Stay chill, okay? It’ll be fine.
Easier said than done.
The announcement came around noon, and I was watching it unfold in real-time, my stomach twisting with every word.
"Big Hit Entertainment confirms BTS’s Jin is in a relationship."
I stared at the headline on my screen, my heart pounding as I scrolled through the official statement:
"We would like to address the recent speculation regarding BTS member Jin. It is true that he is currently in a relationship. However, out of respect for the individual’s privacy and as they are not a public figure, we will not be disclosing any details about their identity. We ask for fans' understanding and support during this time."
The articles followed suit, breaking down the blurry paparazzi photos that had surfaced, shots of us holding hands, walking together, and, of course, the infamous fishing trip where I had practically wrapped myself around him in the water. The news sites were eating it up, analyzing every single detail.
Speculations were already running wild online. Some fans were convinced the girl in the photos was an actress, a model, or even a stylist who worked with the group. Others were combing through Jin’s past interactions, trying to connect any dots that might give them a clue.
I exhaled sharply, my hands gripping the edge of the couch. At least my identity was still under wraps… for now.
Just as I was about to shut my phone off, my mother’s name popped up on my screen. Again.
I let it ring out, the weight of the upcoming conversation pressing down on me.
Before I could even process what to do next, my phone buzzed again, this time with a call from Jin.
I answered quickly. “Hey”, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Saw the announcement.”
“Figured you did,” he replied, his tone light but steady. “You holding up okay?”
“Define okay,” I joked weakly. “It’s… a lot. But I’ll survive.”
“Good,” he said. “Because we’re not done yet.”
I groaned. “What now?”
“Next step: meeting the parents,”
I blinked, gripping the edge of the counter. “Jin, how exactly are we supposed to tell them?”
Jin’s voice came through, calm but with an edge of hesitation. “I thought about that too. Here’s the plan: I’ll invite them all to a restaurant. Nothing too suspicious. I’ll convince my mom to invite your family, so it seems casual. You can be there too, and then…”
“And then?” I pressed, already bracing myself.
“Then I’ll tell them you’re the girl the company confirmed is my girlfriend,” he said simply. “And that we’re engaged. Later on, we’ll say we’re planning to marry after my tour.”
I blinked, caught off guard by how straightforward he made it sound. “Right. And when are we doing this?”
“I thought today,” Jin admitted, “but that might be too soon for you. I think I can avoid them until tomorrow evening… without going crazy from the spam calls from my mom.”
I let out a slow exhale, trying to process the whirlwind he was proposing. “Okay, but—?” I hesitated, unsure how to even finish my thought. “I guess this has to be done.”
“It does,” Jin agreed lightly. There was a pause before he added, “I’m coming over now, though.”
“Why?” I asked, confused.
“You’ll see.”
Before I could protest, he hung up.
I stared at my phone, half-annoyed and half-curious, wondering what on earth he was planning this time.
Jin showed up at my apartment just fifteen minutes after he’d hung up, leaving me standing at the door, completely confused.
“Why are you here?” I asked, stepping aside to let him in. He looked slightly out of breath, a little flustered, and oddly... nervous.
“So,” he said, avoiding my gaze as he ran a hand through his hair. “What do you think of the plan?”
I frowned, crossing my arms as I watched him pace. “I think it’s a good way to handle things. We shouldn’t dwell too much on it, it needs to be done. But seriously, Jin, why are you here?”
“About that...” He stopped pacing, turning to face me, his ears tinged pink. For a moment, he hesitated before stepping closer. Without a word, he reached for my hand.
“Jin?” I asked, my voice uncertain.
He slipped something cool and metallic onto my finger, a ring. I froze, staring down at the delicate piece of jewelry now on my hand. Then, slowly, I looked up at him, only to notice he had a matching ring on his finger.
“Is this…?” I started, still processing.
“Yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I thought… we needed to make it believable for them. After all, we’re supposed to be engaged.”
I blinked at him, my mind racing. “You could’ve given it to me tomorrow. Why the rush?”
His cheeks flushed deeper, and he struggled to find his words. “I just... thought it’d be better if you had it now. You know, to get used to it or something.”
I stared at him, both touched and baffled by the gesture. “You really went all out, huh?”
“Well, if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right,” he muttered, avoiding my gaze.
A small smile tugged at my lips. “You’re such a perfectionist, you know that?”
He finally met my eyes, his expression softening. “Maybe. But I didn’t want this to feel completely fake, even if it’s just an act for now.”
I looked back at the ring, turning it slightly on my finger. It fit perfectly. “Well,” I said, trying to keep my tone light, “it’s a good thing I don’t hate it. This is actually… really pretty.”
Jin smiled, his usual confidence flickering back into place. “Of course it is. I have great taste.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the warmth spreading through my chest. “Alright, Mr. Worldwide Handsome. Let’s hope it does the trick tomorrow.”
“It will,” he said, his voice quieter now. “We’ve got this.”
And for the first time in a long while, I actually believed him.
***
That night, I kept catching myself staring at the ring. Not in a dreamy, romantic way, but in an oh-god-this-is-really-happening way. The weight of it, the way it sat perfectly on my finger, made it all feel real, even though it wasn’t.
Jin had left soon after, telling me to "get some sleep because tomorrow’s going to be a long night," but sleep didn’t come easily. Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured my mom’s face when she’d hear the news. Would she be shocked? Suspicious? Excited? Jin’s mom seemed warm, but what if she could see right through us?
Eventually, morning came, and I spent most of the day distracting myself with work, avoiding any and all texts from my mom. When the evening rolled around, I found myself standing in front of my mirror again, adjusting my outfit for the hundredth time.
It’s just dinner, I told myself. Nothing I can’t handle.
As if on cue, my phone buzzed. Jin.
Jin: I’m outside. Ready?
I grabbed my bag, took one last deep breath, and headed out.
When I slid into the passenger seat of Jin’s car, I could already feel the tension radiating off him. He was staring straight ahead, gripping the wheel a little tighter than necessary.
"Are you nervous?" I asked, watching his jaw clench.
He scoffed lightly, finally glancing at me. "Me? Nervous? Never."
I raised an eyebrow, holding up my hand to flash the ring. Jin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous. But my mom will be fine. Your mom, though..."
I groaned, already feeling the migraine forming. "Yeah. Let’s just hope she doesn’t start interrogating us right in the middle of dinner."
Jin shot me a look. "She will. We just have to make sure our stories match."
"Fine," I said, settling in. "Let’s go over the details one more time before we get there."
Jin pulled out of the driveway, the reality of what we were about to do settling in. There was no turning back now.
At the restaurant, our families were already seated by the time we walked in. The atmosphere was warm, the private dining area cozy enough to make it feel like a casual gathering. My mom and Jin’s mom sat side by side, deep in conversation, while our fathers exchanged pleasantries.
The moment my mom saw me, her eyes flickered between me and Jin, sharp and calculating.
"There they are," Jin’s dad said with a smile, motioning for us to sit.
I forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. Jin pulled out my chair before sitting down next to me, his fingers briefly brushing against mine under the table, a subtle reassurance.
"So," my mom started, crossing her arms. "Are you two going to tell us what this is all about?"
I glanced at Jin. He gave my hand a quick squeeze before turning to face both our families with that signature confidence of his.
"We wanted to tell you in person before the media gets ahead of us," he said smoothly. "The rumors are true, I’m in a relationship."
My mother arched an eyebrow. "With who?"
Jin smiled, then turned to me. "With Y/N."
Silence.
And then—
"You’re what?" My mom’s voice came out sharp, while Jin’s mother gasped softly.
I held my breath as the weight of the moment sank in.
"And that’s not all," Jin added. "We’re engaged."
Silence stretched across the table, heavy and unrelenting. I could feel the weight of my mother’s stare, sharp enough to cut through steel. Jin’s mom looked equally surprised, her lips parting slightly in shock.
“You’re what?” my mom repeated, her voice laced with disbelief. “Engaged? You two?”
I barely had time to respond before my father scoffed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. “Now hold on a second. Two months ago, you two couldn’t stand each other. What changed?”
Jin’s mom turned to him, her expression torn between surprise and suspicion. “Seokjin,” she said carefully, “you told me yourself that you and Y/N couldn’t spend five minutes in the same room without arguing. Now, suddenly, you’re engaged?”
Jin let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah, about that. Things… changed.”
My mom’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Changed how? Because last time I checked, the only thing that was changing was the number of complaints you two had about each other.”
Jin and I exchanged a quick glance. Crap. We knew this wouldn’t be easy, but hearing it out loud made it sound even less believable.
Jin cleared his throat, putting on his best charming smile. “Well… you know how they say love and hate aren’t that different? Turns out, all that bickering was just… passion in disguise.”
I resisted the urge to kick him under the table. Passion in disguise? That was the best he could come up with?
My mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Passion,” she echoed dryly, clearly unimpressed.
Jin’s dad let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “So, let me get this straight. You went from constantly annoying each other to this? Just like that?”
Jin straightened in his seat, nodding a little too confidently. “Exactly.”
My mom gave him a sharp look. “And we’re supposed to believe this?”
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to lean into the act. “I know it sounds sudden, but it’s not like we hadn’t noticed each other before. We just… didn’t realize what was there.”
Jin’s mom crossed her arms, looking at both of us. “So when did this realization happen?”
Jin and I glanced at each other for a split second. Crap. Timeline. Timeline.
“A while ago,” Jin said smoothly, reaching for his water. “We started spending more time together, and it just… made sense.”
My mom, still skeptical, tapped her nails against the table. “You really expect us to believe that in a matter of weeks, you both went from barely tolerating each other to engagement?”
Jin smiled, his confidence slipping just slightly. “It’s… intense, I know.”
“Intense?” My mom scoffed. “It’s concerning.”
I let out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “I get it. It’s a lot to take in, but we wanted to tell you first before anyone else.”
Jin nodded quickly. “Exactly. We care about what you guys think.”
Jin’s dad sighed, rubbing his temples. “Well… I guess we should just be happy you two aren’t at each other’s throats anymore.”
His mom still looked unconvinced, but I saw her expression soften slightly. “If you’re sure about this…”
“We are,” Jin assured her.
My mom exhaled deeply, giving me that look. “We’ll talk later, Y/N.”
Oh, I was so doomed.
Jin’s dad chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I suppose this means we should start discussing wedding plans?”
Jin and I both let out nervous laughs.
“Absolutely,” I said, forcing a smile.
“Right,” Jin agreed. “We’ve got plenty of time to plan.”
The conversation eventually shifted, though the tension lingered. The hardest part was done, our families knew. But somehow, I had a feeling this wasn’t the last time we’d be interrogated about it.
***
As soon as dessert was finished and the conversation had settled, I excused myself to the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe. The weight of everything, our parents' reactions, Jin’s ridiculous "passion in disguise" excuse, and the fact that we had somehow pulled this off, was starting to settle in.
I turned on the sink, splashing a bit of cool water on my face to shake off the tension. Okay. That wasn’t terrible. Skepticism aside, our families didn’t outright reject the idea. That was a win, right?
Just as I let out a sigh of relief, the door creaked open behind me.
Oh no.
I didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. The sharp, knowing look in the mirror confirmed it, my mother had followed me.
I swallowed, straightening up as she closed the door behind her, arms crossed. “Alright,” she said, voice calm but firm. “Talk.”
I blinked. “Talk?”
“Yes, Y/N,” she said dryly. “You just dropped the biggest bomb on us, and you expect me not to have questions? You and Jin, really?”
I hesitated, searching for an answer that wouldn’t sound rehearsed. “I… I know it’s a lot, but it’s real.”
She arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And when exactly did you decide to go from arguing at every family event to suddenly in love and engaged?”
I sighed. “It wasn’t sudden. It just… took us a while to realize how we actually felt.”
Mom’s sharp eyes flickered to my hand, and I stiffened when she reached out, taking my fingers and inspecting the ring. “So this is real, too?”
I nodded, trying to ignore how my heartbeat picked up. “Yes.”
She studied me for a moment, searching my face. “Y/N… are you happy?”
The question caught me off guard. I had expected more skepticism, more drilling for details, but instead, she was asking me how I felt.
I took a breath, and maybe for the first time, I didn’t have to fake it.
“I am,” I said quietly. “Jin… he makes things easy. I don’t have to pretend around him. We know each other. He’s—” I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “He’s good to me. And he makes me laugh, even when I don’t want to.”
My mom’s expression softened just slightly, but she didn’t let me off the hook that easily. “That’s a nice speech,” she said. “But I still don’t understand how this happened so fast.”
I gave a small shrug. “Sometimes things just… click.”
She sighed, rubbing her temple. “I just don’t want you making a mistake. Marriage isn’t a joke.”
“I know,” I said, holding her gaze. “And I promise you, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was right.”
She exhaled. “Alright.”
I blinked. “Wait… that’s it?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll still be watching, Y/N. But if you’re serious about this, then fine.” She gave me one last scrutinizing glance before heading for the door.
Just as she opened it, Jin was standing right outside, his hand raised as if he had been about to knock.
“Jin?” I said, confused.
He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You were taking too long,” he muttered. “I was coming to check if you were okay.”
My mom glanced between us before letting out a small hum, giving Jin one last pointed look before walking past him back to the dining area.
Jin looked after her, then back at me. “Did I just dodge a mother's interrogation?”
I smirked. “Barely.”
He exhaled dramatically. “Good. Now let’s get out of here before she changes her mind.” I laughed, following him out as we rejoined our families.
***
The car ride was quiet at first, just the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of Jin tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. I leaned back in my seat, still processing everything that had happened tonight, how our families reacted, how my mom actually let it slide, and how, for a moment, I almost believed my own words about why I liked Jin.
I glanced at him, the streetlights casting a glow over his face as he focused on the road. He looked deep in thought, probably relieved that dinner was over.
“So,” I started, breaking the silence, “you were really about to barge into the bathroom to rescue me, huh?”
Jin scoffed, eyes still on the road. “I wasn’t barging in. I was just… checking.”
I grinned, turning in my seat to fully face him. “Mhm. And what exactly was the plan? Drag me out mid-interrogation? Sweep me off my feet and make a run for it?”
His grip on the wheel tightened slightly. “I didn’t have a plan,” he admitted. “I just thought you’d been gone too long, and knowing your mom, I figured she might be grilling you.”
“She was.”
Jin shot me a quick side glance. “And?”
I smirked, holding up my hand and wiggling my fingers. “She saw the ring.”
He let out a low chuckle. “And?”
I leaned back again, feeling smug. “And she bought it.”
Jin let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Thank God. I thought she’d see right through you.”
“Oh, she definitely still has her doubts,” I added. “But I gave a very convincing speech about why I like you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What’d you say?”
I grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Jin narrowed his eyes, but before he could press further, I decided to change the subject to something much funnier.
“You know,” I mused, tilting my head, “for a guy who’s about to get fake married, you really are so innocent.”
He nearly choked. “Excuse me?”
I smirked. “Oh, come on, passion in disguise? That’s what you went with?”
Jin groaned, gripping the wheel tighter. “I panicked, okay? What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, we fell in love overnight’?”
“Anything but that,” I teased. “Seriously, have you ever lied about being in love before? Because that was painfully bad.”
“I don’t make a habit of fake relationships, Y/N,” he shot back, giving me a pointed look.
I gasped dramatically. “Wait, don’t tell me this is your first time pretending to be engaged to someone?”
Jin rolled his eyes. “Yes, actually.”
“Wow.” I shook my head in fake disappointment. “So inexperienced. So pure. So—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” he warned, but I could see the tips of his ears turning pink.
I grinned. “Honestly, I feel bad for you. How are you going to survive if we have to do PDA?”
Jin shot me a horrified look. “We don’t have to do PDA.”
I gasped again, placing a hand over my chest. “Jin, sweetie, we’re engaged. We have to be convincing.”
He groaned, tilting his head back against the headrest as we hit a red light. “This is going to be a nightmare.”
“For you, maybe,” I said cheerfully. “For me? It's a comedy.”
Jin sighed dramatically. “If I crash this car, just know it was your fault.”
***
A few days had passed since the restaurant dinner, and somehow, I had managed to dodge any more intense interrogations from my mom. But tonight? There was no escaping it.
Jin’s mother had invited everyone over for a family dinner at her house, the same house where this entire situation first started. It felt like some kind of ironic full-circle moment, except this time, instead of accidentally being tangled in Jin’s life, I was here as his fiancée.
I took a deep breath before stepping inside, feeling Jin’s presence beside me as we entered the warm, familiar space. Our families were already seated in the living room, chatting like this was any other family gathering. The second we stepped in, though, all eyes were on us.
“There they are,” Jin’s mom said, her smile warm but sharp. “The engaged couple.”
Jin and I exchanged a quick glance, silently reminding each other to sell this.
Jin placed a hand on my lower back as we walked further inside, his touch light, but enough to make me blink up at him. Was he actually doing PDA on his own?
I smirked, deciding to test the waters. As we sat down next to each other, I casually reached for his hand under the table, threading my fingers through his.
Jin visibly tensed. Caught you.
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice so only he could hear. “Relax, babe. This is what real couples do.”
Jin exhaled slowly before forcing a smile, gripping my hand tighter as if to say you’re going to pay for this later.
His dad, of course, noticed immediately. “Oh? Holding hands so freely already? Guess you two are serious.”
I smiled sweetly. “Of course. What kind of fiancée would I be if I didn’t show my love for Jin?”
My dad chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “I have to admit, seeing you two like this is still surprising, but I’m happy if you’re happy.”
Jin squeezed my hand before clearing his throat, turning to the table. “Speaking of that… there’s something I wanted to discuss about the wedding.”
Our parents leaned in, clearly interested.
Jin straightened up, his voice steady. “I have to leave for a tour in a week.”
Silence.
My mom blinked. “A tour?”
Jin nodded. “It’ll be three months long. We’ll be traveling a lot, and I’ll be busy, so I know that’s a long time to be apart right after an engagement.” He turned to me, his eyes softening like he was actually concerned. “But I couldn’t wait. I didn’t want to risk Y/N being taken by someone else or waiting too long. So… I proposed now.”
I blinked. Damn. That was a good line.
His mom sighed, smiling fondly. “You really love her that much, huh?”
Jin smiled, a little too smug, and turned to me. “Of course. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I internally gagged but kept my face neutral, giving his hand a small, loving squeeze. “And he’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”
My mom, still skeptical, tapped her fingers against the table. “And after this tour?”
Jin didn’t hesitate. “We’ll continue with the wedding plans and get married once I return.”
More silence. Then…
“Well,” Jin’s dad said, nodding, “that’s fast.”
Jin’s mom, however, smiled. “But I suppose when you know, you know.”
I felt Jin’s fingers tighten around mine slightly. Yeah. When you know, you know.
There was a moment of quiet as our families exchanged knowing looks. Jin and I both shifted in our seats, clearly uncomfortable with the weight of their stares. Then, like a dagger in the tension, Jin’s mom suddenly asked, "So, you two are thinking about kids after the tour too, right?"
I nearly choked on my sip of water, while Jin blinked at her, his face a shade of red I hadn’t seen before. He cleared his throat and looked at me, as if trying to gauge my reaction before answering.
"Uh, well... we haven’t exactly made any big plans like that," Jin stammered, clearly trying to avoid the question. "We’re just... trying to enjoy being together first."
"Ah, come on," his dad teased, nudging Jin. "You’re serious enough,no? You’re not going to wait too long, are you?"
Jin chuckled nervously, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I think we need some time before we start planning that, don’t we?" He shot me an apologetic glance. "Maybe... much later."
I tried to salvage the moment, smiling a little too brightly. "Yeah, we’re definitely not rushing into that kind of thing right now."
"Alright, alright. We’ll leave that for later, I suppose." Jin’s mom gave me a wink before shifting her attention back to the table. "But speaking of rushing things... who confessed first, huh?"
The table went quiet as all eyes turned toward us, and my face immediately turned scarlet. Jin froze beside me, and I could feel the heat from his embarrassment radiating.
"Uh, what?" I blurted, trying to make light of the situation. "Who confessed first?"
Jin blinked, obviously flustered, his fingers twitching around my hand like he was deciding whether to answer or run away. "Y/N," he said quickly, as if trying to get it over with.
I turned to him, shocked. "What? No, that’s not—" I caught myself mid-sentence, my cheeks now matching his as I stammered. "I did not confess first!"
Jin shot me an apologetic glance, clearly trying to save face. "Yeah, you did," he said, though his voice was shaking with barely contained laughter. "You totally did."
I blinked at him, mortified. "I—" I stopped, realizing he wasn’t backing down. "I—Okay, fine! I may have said something first, but only because you were being so awkward about it!"
"Ha!" Jin’s dad let out a triumphant laugh. "There you have it, folks. Y/N’s the brave one!"
Jin, now fully red, buried his face in his hands. "I can’t believe this is happening right now," he muttered, his voice muffled.
I couldn’t stop the smile creeping up on my face despite the embarrassment. "I swear, I’m never letting you live this down," I teased, squeezing his hand tightly.
Jin’s mom grinned, clearly enjoying the discomfort. "Well, it’s nice to know. Looks like our Jin’s a bit shy when it comes to matters of the heart."
"Definitely," I added, smirking at him. "Shy, awkward, and... a little too slow."
Jin shot me a playful glare. "You’re lucky I’m letting you get away with this."
***
The dinner had wound down, everyone was a little tipsy from the wine Jin’s dad had insisted on pouring, and the atmosphere had shifted into a comfortable, hazy warmth. The chatter was lighter now, full of sleepy giggles and lazy smiles, but there was still that unmistakable tension lingering in the air, especially when Jin’s mom turned to us with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“You know,” she began, her tone suggestive, “we have plenty of rooms, so there’s no need to rush home tonight. You’re all more than welcome to stay.” She gestured to the house around us, as if making sure everyone understood there would be no shortage of space.
Before I could protest, she added with a wink, “Except, of course, for the young couple, who’ll be staying in Jin’s old room.” She smiled so wide it almost felt like she was daring us to say something.
I glanced at Jin, who was already looking at me with wide eyes, clearly caught off guard. Our families both exchanged knowing looks, and then Jin let out a nervous laugh.
“Uh, yeah. That’s... fine. Right?” Jin said, his voice cracking just slightly as he glanced at me.
I shot him a teasing smile, pretending to think it over. “Sure, I mean, it’s only... your childhood bedroom, right?”
“Yup,” he said, clearing his throat, his face flushing a bit.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said, taking the opportunity to give him a gentle nudge. "I mean, you’re an adult now, right? Not a little kid anymore."
Jin’s mom, clearly loving the awkwardness of the situation, rose from her seat and gave us a warm smile. “Alright then, I’ll get the extra blankets. Don’t want you two getting cold now, do we?”
The whole room went silent for a second as she casually left, and the air seemed to thicken with all the unspoken fun that was about to unfold.
A few minutes later, Jin’s mom returned, her hands full of extra blankets. She winked at us knowingly, handing one to Jin before pushing him gently toward the door. “You’ll be fine. Just remember, keep the noise down,” she added in a low voice, which made both Jin and me flush a deep red.
“Mom!” Jin practically shouted, but it was more out of embarrassment than actual surprise.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, but my own face was hot now too. “I’ll... I’ll make sure we stay quiet.”
Jin’s mom smirked and closed the door with a soft click, leaving us alone in his childhood bedroom.
We stood there for a moment, then Jin turned to me, still red in the face, and burst out laughing. "I can’t believe this is happening. My mom, really?"
I shook my head, still chuckling. “Well, at least she’s not shy about... anything.”
Jin ran a hand through his hair, his face still flushed with embarrassment. “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ve ever been more embarrassed in my life.”
I glanced around at the room, my eyes landing on the bed. It was definitely smaller than the one I had slept in the other night, and I couldn’t help but think, This is going to be interesting.
Jin seemed to notice my hesitation, probably seeing the look in my eyes. “You know what? I’m going to go shower. You can get settled in while I’m gone.”
I nodded, grateful for the break. As soon as Jin stepped into the bathroom, I dug through his shelves for something to wear. I found a t-shirt that looked comfortable enough and slipped into it, surprised to find it fit me surprisingly well. It was a little loose but just the right amount of cozy.
I looked at the bed again, and a rush of heat filled my chest. I really have to sleep in the same bed with him tonight? My thoughts were racing, what was I even supposed to do? I glanced around, unsure whether to just crawl into the bed or leave it empty and uncomfortable for myself.
Eventually, I just crawled in, curling under the covers as if to hide away from the situation. My heart was racing, and the seconds felt like they stretched on forever. I heard him coming back from the shower, his footsteps pacing around the room.
But after a while, I realized something: I couldn’t feel Jin's weight on the bed at all. My heart skipped a beat.
I dared to lift the blanket just slightly, my pulse quickening. I peeked over the edge of the bed, only to find Jin... putting a mattress on the floor.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I asked, my voice a little too loud in the quiet room. What was going on here?
Jin froze, looking at me over his shoulder. “Huh?”
I blinked, trying to process what I was seeing. “Are you... planning to sleep on the floor?”
Jin’s face flushed even more, but he quickly shrugged it off. “Well... I mean, it’s a small bed. It’s probably better that way.”
I sat up in bed, staring at him. “What if your mom comes in the middle of the night to check on us? She’s already so... interested in our sleeping arrangements.”
Jin rubbed the back of his neck, trying to avoid eye contact. “I doubt she’ll do that.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Jin, just come here,” I said, my voice softer now. “I won’t let you sleep on the floor. Seriously. Just... come to bed. I swear, it can fit us both if you stay in the corner.”
Jin hesitated, looking from me to the mattress on the floor, then back to me. “I’m fine. Really. I’ll make do.”
I raised an eyebrow, not backing down. “Are you afraid to share a bed with a woman? Oh wait, let me guess maybe you haven’t shared one with anyone because you’re a vi-?”
Jin’s eyes widened, his face turning crimson again. “I—You know what? Fine.” His tone was a mix of frustration and defeat, and before I could say another word, he stormed over to the bed, crawling in beside me with an exaggerated sigh.
“I’ll stay on the edge,” he said, practically flopping onto the mattress. He turned toward me with a playful glint in his eye. “But just so you know, you’re the one who made me do this.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics. “Sure, sure. But if you’re staying on your side, that’s all good with me.”
We both lay there in silence for a few moments, our bodies close enough that I could feel the warmth from his side, but far enough apart to avoid any real closeness. My heart was still racing, but this time, it wasn’t from awkwardness, it was something else entirely.
Jin turned to face me, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “This is probably the most awkward sleepover ever, huh?”
I smiled back at him. “Yeah, definitely.”
But as the night settled around us, something shifted. The awkwardness faded into something more comfortable. Despite everything, I felt strangely at ease next to him.
We were both quiet for a while, just laying there, and I finally drifted off to sleep, with his presence somehow making it feel... right.
***
The next morning, I woke up with a soft warmth beneath my cheek. My head was resting on something solid, and the steady rise and fall of the surface beneath me lulled me into a peaceful, though slightly disorienting, daze. I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my mind.
Wait... where am I?
My eyes shot open, and my brain registered the situation in a split second: I was laying on Jin’s chest. His soft heartbeat was audible beneath me, and his shirt, slightly wrinkled, was so close I could almost count the fabric threads.
I gasped, trying to push myself up, but in my haste, I misjudged the angle and knocked my forehead right into his chin.
"Ow! Ow!" I groaned, immediately grabbing my head in pain. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”
Jin groaned beneath me, clearly still half-asleep. "Y/N... ouch… what are you doing?" His voice was muffled and groggy.
I pulled back quickly, sitting up and clutching the blanket around me like it could somehow shield me from the embarrassing mess I’d just made. "I—uh, I didn’t mean to... I just woke up, and—"
Jin rubbed his chin, still trying to shake off the sleepiness. He blinked up at me with an expression that was a mix of confusion and amusement. "You didn’t exactly wake me up... but next time, maybe try not to headbutt me first thing in the morning."
I pressed my palm against my face, groaning inwardly. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Jin shifted, propping himself up on one arm and giving me a teasing grin. “Well, at least now I know I’m not the only one who gets too cozy in the morning.”
I quickly sat up, trying to escape the awkward tension in the air. "Okay, okay, let's... forget that happened," I mumbled, brushing the hair out of my face. I shot him a quick glance, “Let’s just... let’s pretend this never happened, alright?”
He grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered I was. He drove me home after we quickly said goodbye to his parents. I must have been lost in thoughts, since he’d been talking for the last minute before I even noticed.
“Sorry—what did you say?” I asked, blinking as I sat up.
He glanced over, cheeks warming. “Oh, nothing important. We’ve arrived at your place.”
I peered out the window at my front gate. “Right.” I slipped the car door open and paused on the step. “This was… fun. I’ll see you when you get back?”
His shoulders relaxed and he offered a small smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
I reached across the console and touched his arm lightly. “Listen, when you FaceTime your parents, and they ask how we’re doing, just tell them we talk every day and FaceTime each other. We don’t actually have to, but since we’re ‘engaged,’ they’ll expect it.” I grinned, and he laughed softly.
“Deal,” he said, eyes bright.
My throat tightened. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “So… this is goodbye for now?”
He swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah. Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Bye, Jin. Have a blast on tour.” I forced a grin, though my voice wavered.
I turned away before he could see my eyes sting. Even a pretend arrangement like this one still left a real ache. I hurried up to my apartment, the quiet click of my heels echoing in the hallway, and headed straight for the shower, letting the warm water wash away the bittersweet sting of farewell.
~~Jin’s POV~~
The day of departure arrived in a blink of an eye. I stood in the makeup room, my suitcase open beside me, while Jimin hefted a guitar case and Jungkook checked his passport.
“Why isn’t Y/N coming with us?” Jimin asked, arching an eyebrow.
I shrugged, running a hand through my hair. “She’s got her career here, too much to leave behind, and touring would mess up her schedule. Besides, it’s not exactly private on the road.”
Jungkook laughed. “Aw, come on, you’re gonna FaceTime her all the time at least, right? All that lovey‑dovey couple stuff?”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “We’re not that sappy.”
“But she’s coming to see you off, at least?” V leaned in, curious.
I glanced at the clock on the wall, departure was in two hours. “I… I hope so,” I murmured.
Our manager’s voice crackled through the intercom: “Alright, everyone, drivers are here. Time to head to the airport. Make sure you’ve said your goodbyes.”
I felt my hand twitch in my pocket. Without thinking, I pulled out my phone, tapped Y/N’s name, and sent a quick message:
Jin: Flight boards in two hours.I’ll text you once I’ve landed safely.
~~ Y/N’s POV~~
I had just finished washing the dishes and collapsed onto the couch when my phone lit up. Lazily, I reached over to the coffee table and squinted at the screen: Jin. My heart skipped a beat. He’d just texted about his flight. Maybe I should go see him off, show the other members I care—no, I didn’t owe them an impression. And the airport would be packed with fans. There was no way I could fight through that crowd…Ugh. Screw it. I grabbed the first jeans and T‑shirt I could find, yanked my hair into a messy ponytail, and called a taxi. If I hurried, I might just make it before he boarded.
In the cab, I frantically searched online for his gate number. Fan sites had already posted snippets of the schedule; it made me cringe to join those forums, but anything to make sure he saw me there. All I wanted was to tell Jin to have a safe trip and that I’d be waiting for him when he got back.
When I arrived at the terminal, the crowd was even worse than I’d imagined. I sprinted toward the departure gates, scanning the sea of heads for his familiar dark hair. My lungs burned, and my echoed frantically against the polished floor.
“Jin!” I screamed, but my voice was swallowed by the roar of fans. I reached the glass doors just as he stepped through them, flanked by the others. His back was to me, and before I could push my way forward, the doors slid shut.
For a moment, I stood there, chest heaving, fingertips pressed against the cool glass. Then I convinced myself maybe it was better this way. He didn’t see me embarrass myself in front of his bandmates or his fans. I turned and slipped out of the terminal, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. Back in the taxi, I stared at his unread text and tapped out a reply:
Y/N: Have a safe flight.
***
Jin texted me as soon as he landed, and over the next few days he told me everything about the absurd pranks the other boys pulled to each other. I’d reply with stories from my workday: how my coffee machine exploded on Monday, and that one time I accidentally walked into the wrong meeting room. Before long, our chats became the highlight of both our days.
Four weeks flew by, and despite the time‑zone gap, we managed to message every single day. Then, one afternoon, instead of a text I saw “Incoming FaceTime from Jin.” My heart leapt, until the call connected and it wasn’t Jin at all, but J‑Hope, grinning mischievously.
“Noona Y/N! AISHH—Jin is absolutely hammered right now and keeps shouting your name. What did you do to him? He won’t stop going, “Y/N! Y/N! Did you guys fight?”
“Huh? No, of course we didn’t fight.” What was really going on here I thought.
“Maybe you two should… talk? Hold on, I am passing him the phone”. J‑Hope panned the camera over to Jin, whose cheeks were flushed and eyes glassy. “Y/N… where are you?”
“Home.”
“Why are you there alone? I’m coming to you.”
My heart jumped. “Jin, you’re on tour! Why have you drunk so much? What’s going on?”
He tried to speak again but the camera wobbled. The phone slipped from his hand and the screen went black… call ended. Stunned, I stared at my phone. I don’t know how to process what just happened, but I wait, eyes glued to the blank screen, for a callback that never happened.
The next morning, my alarm jolted me awake at 7:15. I swatted at my phone and squinted through bleary eyes at the lock screen, it was already mid‑morning by Jin’s time. My heart sank as I remembered I’d dozed off waiting for his callback… and he still hadn’t reached out.
I slid out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, the tile cold under my bare feet. As I brushed my teeth, I replayed last night’s call: Jin’s unfinished reply. What had really happened? My mind spun with possibilities as I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the knot of worry forming in my chest.
At the office, I sank into my desk chair and booted up my laptop. My to‑do list glowed on the screen, reports to draft, emails to send, a client presentation in the afternoon. I opened my inbox, but my eyes kept drifting to the FaceTime icon up in the corner. My fingers itched to reach for the phone and call Jin directly, but I forced myself to focus.
When I finally walked through my front door that evening, every muscle in my body ached from the day’s tension. I tossed my bag onto the couch and sank down beside it, spinning the ring Jin had given me between my fingers. Two days. I decided I’d wait two more days for him to reach out. If I hadn’t heard from him by then, I would take matters into my own hands.
The next two days passed in a blur of work and restless nights. My phone remained stubbornly silent. With my courage gathered like a shield, I tapped his name in Contacts and pressed FaceTime, my heart pounding in my ears.
The screen rang once, twice, then flickered to life. There he was: sweat beading on his forehead, hair mussed as if he’d just torn off a rehearsed‑worthy run, stage makeup smudged at the edges. He blinked at me, clearly startled.
“Um… hi,” he said, voice low.
I blinked back at his unexpectedly handsome face. “Hi, that's what I get? Hi? Jin—do you remember what happened a few days ago? When you FaceTimed me and then…”
His cheeks flushed so vividly I could almost see the flames. “Oh my,” he stammered, looking anywhere but the camera. “Even if I don’t remember to be honest, I woke up and the guys were teasing me about it. I… I didn’t know I was shouting your name. Please don’t take it so seriously.”
I laughed softly, relief flooding me. “Gosh, so you were just embarrassed and decided not to contact me? I actually worried you’d gotten food poisoning or something.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes downcast. “Fine. I was embarrassed, okay? And they keep teasing me, Y/N. I’m not used to it.”
I tilted my head, grinning. “Then tease them right back. Or next time, just tell them you miss me, without the drinks.”
He blinked, a mock-offended look crossing his face.
“Who said anything about missing you?”
I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms. “Oh, come on, your cheeks are literally burning. You don’t get embarrassed like that over nothing.”
He huffed. “I just… didn’t want to give them ammunition to tease me even more.”
I leaned forward, towered over my screen. “So the solution was radio silence? Really?”
He ran a hand through his damp hair. “I panicked, okay? I thought you’d be upset.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Upset? For you calling me at two in the morning? I’d have been more upset if you hadn’t called.”
He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, blinking. “You really wouldn’t mind?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, I’d mind if you didn’t want me around. But I’m your fake fiancée, so you don’t really owe me anything.”
Jin shook his head and smirked. “Of course I want you around. Next time I’ll try to warn you, no midnight calls.”
I grinned. “I’ll keep my phone handy. And maybe don’t drink so much before the call.”
We both laughed, the tension dissolving as easily as it had built.
The months that followed settled into a comforting rhythm. Every morning began with a bleary “good morning” text from Jin, sometimes brief, sometimes playful, full of emojis and inside jokes. Throughout the day, we traded snapshots of our worlds: his rehearsal room strewn with water bottles and stray lyric sheets, my desk piled with coffee mugs and half‑finished reports. On weekends when he had a day off, we FaceTimed for hours. He slipped so seamlessly into my daily life that I half‑expected to wake up and find him sitting on the edge of my bed.
And that made me realise that I missed him. More than I’d ever anticipated. Even knowing he would be back in two weeks, the countdown on my calendar already scribbled with “Jin returns!”, couldn’t stave off the longing. I found myself tracing his name on my phone screen a dozen times a day, rehearsing in my head what I’d say when he finally stepped off that plane. Two more concerts remained on his tour: one in Chicago, then the grand finale in Los Angeles. It was on a lazy Tuesday afternoon that my phone buzzed with an unfamiliar notification: a new group chat. I hesitated before tapping it open. The title was simply “Reuniting the lovebirds” and inside were only three participants: myself, Jungkook, and V.
V: Hey Noona! Hope you’re doing well 😊 We have a spare ticket for our last show in LA. Jungkook and I thought it’d be awesome if you came!
Then Jungkook chimed in:
Jungkook: Jin’s been talking about you non‑stop, he’d be so happy to see you there. We’ve arranged flights and accommodation already. All you need to do is say yes!
I stared at the screen, breath catching. The group chat started to fill up with details: flight times, the hotel they were staying in, even suggestions for the best local cafés. Their enthusiasm, even through words on a screen, was contagious.
Yet a tremor of doubt crept into my chest. I pictured the sea of screaming fans, spotlights sweeping across the stage, and me somewhere in the aisles trying not to look out of place. What if it backfired? What if Jin was too busy, or worse, annoyed at me for invading his space and work? My thumb hovered over the keyboard. I typed a tentative response:
Y/N: Thank you so much for this… It means a lot. I’m still thinking it over, this is a big step for me. Give me a day or two?
I hit send before I could second‑guess myself. The chat lit up with supportive emojis and quick assurances from Jungkook and V that they’d handle every last detail. But even as their messages popped in, I felt the weight of the decision ahead and all I could think about was him.
Two weeks. It had only been over two months apart, and somehow that felt longer than all the time we’d spent pretending to be something we weren’t. Or maybe we were pretending a little too well. Maybe that was the problem.
I told myself that If I was going, I was going to support a friend, that it was just one more act in our carefully choreographed performance. Nothing more.
But deep down, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
I stared at the screen, at the flurry of messages from two people who clearly knew something I didn’t want to admit. My heart thudded, not with fear, but with the quiet hope that maybe… just maybe… this time, the line between pretend and real might finally blur for good. This wasn’t just about showing up for Jin. It was about finding out what we’d really been pretending not to feel.
***
I hardly slept the night before my flight. Every hour I whispered Jin’s lines in my mind, matching my voice to his mellow tones until I could recite whole verses of “Moon” without stumbling. When morning came, I was trembling with excitement, with nerves, with a strange ache in my chest I’d never felt before.
At the airport, V’s text guided me through expedited security: “Just tell them you’re with Hybe VIP”, and sure enough, the moment I gave my name, the agent nodded, pulled a lanyard from his pocket, and ushered me through a private corridor. My heart hammered as I strode past ordinary travelers waiting in long lines.
The moment we touched down in LA, I felt a surge of adrenaline. Jungkook’s chauffeur was waiting by the gate in a sleek black SUV. At Staples Center that evening, the security detail at the stage door greeted me warmheartedly. “Ms. Y/N,” one said, checking his clipboard. “Right this way.” I followed him down a narrow hallway, my pulse thundering, until I emerged at the barricade where hardcore ARMY had already begun chanting. I slipped into a seat in the front row, heart in my throat as the lights dimmed.
When Jin strode onto the stage, spotlit against a backdrop of shimmering screens, it took my breath away. He moved with effortless grace, every gesture magnified by the crowd’s roar. His hair caught the light; his smile was electric.
I pressed both hands against the barricade, voice raw as I matched every note of the chorus. The lights pulsed around me, but all I could see was Jin’s silhouette moving across the stage, each gesture more mesmerizing than the last. My chest tightened with every lyric, memories of our late‑night calls weaving through the melody. I was singing not just as a fan, but as someone who had come to know every inflection of his voice by heart.
Midway through the set, Jin’s eyes swept the front rows, and for a heartbeat our gazes locked. He blinked, surprise flickering in his expression before the camera swung away. My heart thundered: he’d seen me I think.
When the drums hit the final crescendo, I let out a cry that merged with the audience’s roar. The lights brightened, signaling the encore, and I stood taller, wiping my cheeks and inhaling the electric atmosphere. Security guides reappeared at my side, offering me a cap and a discreet escort through a side entrance. Though I longed to stay lost in the music, I followed them down the narrow corridor, my heart still singing every line, every echo of his voice, knowing that this night, this moment of shared song, would stay with me long after the lights faded.
~~JIN’s POV~~
Jin’s heart was still hammering from the final chorus when the boys slipped backstage to celebrate the show. Suga was the first to spot his restless expression.
“You look like you saw a ghost,” Suga teased, handing Jin a bottle of water.
Jin shook his head, gaze distant. “Maybe I did,” he muttered. “I’m pretty sure I saw her, Y/N, down in the front row.”
The room quieted. Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Y/N? Here?”
Jin swallowed hard. It sounded crazy even to his own ears. She was back home, he’d told himself a dozen times there was no way she’d have flown to LA. Yet when his eyes met hers…
He scanned the room. Jungkook and V were nowhere in sight. “Where is Jungkook and Tae?”
“Speak of the devil,” Namjoon murmured just before the door burst open. Jungkook and V stumbled in, breathless.
“Jin—Y/N’s, she's hurt!” Jungkook blurted. “A disguised sasaeng got past security, they followed her—"
V cut in, panic in his voice. “We’re sorry, hyung, we tried to make sure everything was safe but—”
Before they could finish, Jin was already racing down the hallway, adrenaline and fear lending wings to his feet. He didn’t wait for the others; all that mattered was finding her.
Corridor after corridor blurred by as Jin shouted her name. “Y/N! Y/N!” His voice echoed off concrete walls, a raw plea that carried him around corners and up flight after flight of stairs.
And then, there she was, framed by the stiff bodies of their security team. She stood clutching her arm, fabric pieces crumpled at her feet, eyes wide with surprise and relief.
“Y/N!” Jin exploded into her space, his arms wrapping around her before she could even speak. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
She swallowed, voice trembling. “I’m okay. Just a scratch.”
But when Jin looked down, he saw the thin red line on her forearm, and fury flared in his chest. “Who did this to you?”
She stepped closer, pressing her forehead on his chest. “Calm down,” she whispered, voice gentle despite everything. “Can we talk somewhere more private?”
He nodded, heart still racing, not with fear now, but with love and relief. Jin slid his hand under hers, careful not to touch the scratch, and led her to the nearest open door, inside an empty dressing room.
~~Y/N’s POV~~
I poured out the story in a rush: how that sasaeng had slipped past security, mistook me for another celebrity, and grabbed my arm until the guards yanked them away. Jin closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his temple, tension rippling through his shoulders. “Why are you here?” he asked, voice tight. “I thought I was imagining you out there and now look at you, hurt.”
My pulse spiked. My words flew out, sharp and breathless. “Seriously? You’re scolding me after I’ve been attached? V and Jungkook planned this whole thing so I could surprise you. And you are yelling at me?”
He stared at the thin red line on my forearm, jaw clenched so tightly I could see each muscle in his neck. I pulled my arm back reflexively, anger and hurt warring in my chest. “You act like you don’t want me here,” I spat, voice low and trembling. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come at all.”
“No, I didn’t mean that,” Jin said, voice low and pleading. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s just… I never expected any of this to happen.”
I crossed my arms, fighting the tremor in my voice. “Well, sorry I wasn’t careful enough. Next time I’ll be more careful.”
He opened his mouth “Y/N—” .
“You know what? Actually, there won’t be a next time at all.” My chest felt tight as anger flared. “This was all a mistake.”
Jin’s eyes widened. He took a slow breath. “Y/N—”but I cut him off again.
I balled my fists at my sides, voice trembling. “How dense are you, Jin? I missed you so much that I flew all the way here—”
Before I could finish, Jin closed the distance between us in one quick step, his forehead coming to rest against mine, his hands cupping my face in them. His breath was warm, and I could feel the tension in his shoulders as he leaned in, so close I could almost taste him.
Then there was a timid knock at the door and we jolted apart. A pair of security guards peered in, eyes apologetic. “Sir, sorry to interrupt,” one said, holding up a first‑aid kit. “We brought supplies for her wound.”
Jin gave me one last charged look before turning to them. “Yeah,” he managed, voice husky. “Thank you.”
He scooped up the first‑aid kit and, without breaking eye contact, gently took my hand. His fingers curled around mine, warm and steady, as he led us out of the dressing room. Every step echoed through the narrow corridor, but with his hand in mine, the world felt impossibly small, just the two of us navigating the aftermath of the concert.
We rounded a corner and entered the common room, where the rest of the boys were scattered across couches and folding chairs in silence. Jin guided me to a vacant seat and set the kit in my lap. When he slipped the clean gauze over the scratch, his fingers brushed my skin so lightly it felt electric.
I swallowed, my pulse a rapid thrum in my ears. “Thank you,” I whispered, voice soft.
He paused, gaze lingering on mine for a moment that stretched between us like a held breath. Then, with that same gentle care, he wrapped tape around the bandage and slid the kit aside. He still held my hand, thumb stroking my knuckles.
Before either of us could say anything, the door creaked open and a couple of staff stepped in, breaking the moment.
"Alright, great work tonight, everyone," one of them said briskly. "Vans are waiting outside. Let’s get you all back to the hotel. Quick and quiet.”
Chairs scraped against the floor as the rest of the group slowly got to their feet, stretching and groaning. Jin finally let go of my hand, his fingers lingering for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away.
No one said much as we made our way out the back entrance. Flashing lights and distant cheers still echoed from outside the venue, but the staff had done a good job of clearing a private exit. Jin walked beside me in silence, close enough that our arms brushed once, twice, and then stayed that way.
The ride to the hotel was quiet. The van rolled to a stop beneath the hotel’s awning, headlights bouncing off the polished glass doors. Staff hurried forward with umbrellas even though the night was clear, shielding us from the flashing bulbs of the cameras lingering across the street. Jin was the first to step out, his hand brushing mine as if to anchor me before he straightened his shoulders and led the way inside.
The lobby was hushed and gleaming, the kind of place where every surface shone and every sound seemed to echo. I trailed close behind him, trying to ignore the twist in my chest as the others crowded the front desk.
One by one, keycards slid across the counter. Namjoon accepted his with a quiet nod, Yoongi pocketed his without looking up, Jimin yawned into his sleeve. Then Taehyung and Jungkook stepped forward, twin grins tugging at their mouths.
“Oh, right,” Taehyung said casually, plucking two cards from the stack. He handed one to Jin, then passed the other to Jungkook. “By the way, we didn’t book you a separate room, Y/N.”
My brows shot up. “What?”
Jungkook’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “We thought you’d want to stay with Jin.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and deliberate. My stomach flipped, heat rushing to my face. For a moment I couldn’t tell if I wanted to strangle them both or melt straight into the carpet.
Jin’s head snapped toward them, his ears already flushing red. “You what?” His voice cracked, sharp with disbelief.
Taehyung shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It makes sense. Safer this way. Less hassle.”
Jungkook added, “Besides, you two looked pretty comfortable already.”
My mouth opened, then closed again, words tangling in my throat. The rest of the group shifted awkwardly around us, some pretending not to listen, others smirking at the tension.
Finally, Jin ran a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath before turning toward me. His expression was caught between panic and determination, like he was preparing for battle.
“Come on,” he said quietly, holding out the key. “Let’s… just go up.”
I nodded, heart hammering, and followed him toward the elevators. My pulse was loud in my ears, each step pulling us closer to a confined space where there was no way to pretend the line between us hadn’t already started to blur.
The key clicked, and the door swung open to reveal one neatly made bed in the middle of the room. My stomach twisted, though I’d been bracing for it ever since Taehyung and Jungkook’s little smirks downstairs.
Jin stood frozen in the doorway, lips pressed together. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I couldn’t help it and a laugh slipped out. “This feels like déjà vu. First your childhood bedroom, now this. I’m starting to think the universe just wants us to share beds.”
He shifted his weight, scratching the back of his neck. “I can… sleep on the floor.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jin, it’s one night. We survived it before, we can survive it again.”
“Survived?” He raised an eyebrow. “You head-butted me. Just… ” he sighed, tugging at his collar, “this time, use words, okay? Not violence.”
I grinned, then nodded, and then Jin put our bags down by the chair. We moved around the room quietly, brushing teeth, changing clothes, plugging phones in. For a while we lay side by side, the silence stretching thin. I tried to close my eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come, not with the memory of the concert still pounding in my veins, not with Jin’s warmth so close I could feel it even across the gap.
He shifted beside me. Then again. Finally, his voice slipped through the dark, soft and uncertain.
“Hey,” he whispered. “You still awake?”
“Yeah” I whispered back.
A pause. His breath caught. “I keep… replaying it. Seeing you in the crowd. Then that sasaeng… ” His voice tightened, and I turned toward him. His eyes gleamed faintly in the spill of city light through the curtains. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared.”
Something in my chest ached. I reached out, brushing my fingers lightly against his arm. “But I’m fine. You found me. I’m here.”
He held my gaze, his expression raw, stripped of all his usual humor. “You don’t know what it did to me, seeing you hurt.”
My throat tightened. “Jin…” I whispered.
His lips pressed together, as if he was still holding back a storm. “I don’t want anything like that to ever happen to you again. Not while I’m here. I couldn’t… ” He broke off, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t forgive myself.”
My heart twisted, the weight of his words sinking deep. “You don’t have to carry all of that. I came because I wanted to. I knew the risks. And… I’d do it again.”
He blinked, surprise flashing across his face. “Even after tonight?”
“Especially after tonight,” I said softly. “Because I got to see you. Really see you.”
The air shifted, thicker, heavier. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his gaze locked on mine like he was searching for permission in every breath.
“Y/N…” His voice faltered, then steadied, lower now, almost a plea. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I can’t anymore. Not after all this. Not when you’re right here.”
I swallowed hard, pulse hammering. “Then don’t ignore it.”
He leaned closer, his forehead nearly brushing mine, eyes flicking from my lips back to my eyes. His voice cracked when he finally spoke, the words trembling but certain.
“Can I…?” he whispered, unsteady, gaze darting down to my mouth and back again.
I nodded, breathless.
His lips touched mine, tentative at first, then surer as I leaned in. The kiss deepened quickly, heat sparking in every nerve as his hand slid into mine under the blanket. I gasped softly, pulling him closer, and suddenly it wasn’t just a kiss, it was a storm. His mouth moved against mine with urgency, his other hand brushing up my arm, over my shoulder, until I thought my heart might burst.
I shifted closer, pressing against him, every part of me wanting more. My fingers curled into his shirt, tugging, wordless in my need. He let out a low sound, one that sent shivers down my spine, and before I realized it, I was straddling his hips, leaning over him as our mouths collided again and again.
His hands hovered at my waist, gripping and releasing like he was fighting with himself, torn between pulling me closer and pushing me away. My heart pounded as I kissed him harder, tasting the warmth of his breath, feeling the way he trembled beneath me.
“Y/N…” he murmured against my lips, his voice ragged.
I ignored the warning in his tone, desperate for more, deepening the kiss until my chest ached from the force of it. My hands slid up his chest, feeling the solid lines of muscle beneath the fabric, the rapid thud of his heartbeat matching mine.
For a few glorious seconds, he kissed me back with the same urgency, hungry, searching, like he’d been holding himself back for too long. But then, just as my fingers found the hem of his pants, he froze.
His lips stilled. His hands caught mine gently, halting my movements. “Y/N, wait.”
Breathless, I pulled back slightly, searching his face. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, but there was something else there.
“Why?” I whispered, my voice breaking.
He swallowed hard, forcing a shaky laugh. “Because… we shouldn’t rush this. Not tonight.” He shifted, sliding his hands from mine to rest firmly at my hips, stilling me. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow, remember? And you need to rest. We both do.”
My chest tightened. “Jin—”
He shook his head, cutting me off softly. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Believe me, I do.” His thumb brushed absently against my hip, his voice low, almost pleading. “But I don’t want this to be because we’re tired and caught up in the moment. I want… the first time to matter. To feel right.”
I blinked at him, my heart aching at the earnestness in his tone. He wasn’t rejecting me. The disappointment still stung, but I forced myself to nod. “Okay,” I whispered.
Relief softened his face instantly. He pulled me down gently, pressing one last, tender kiss to my lips before guiding me back to lie beside him. His arm stayed draped around my waist, holding me close as if he couldn’t bear to let go completely.
“Sleep,” he murmured into my hair, voice thick. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
And even though my body was still humming with everything unfinished, I let myself curl into him, eyes slipping shut to the sound of his heartbeat racing just as wildly as mine.
~~Jin’s POV~~
Her breathing evened out slowly against my chest, warm and steady, until I knew she was asleep. I lay there motionless, staring at the ceiling, though my mind refused to be still. My lips still tingled with the memory of her kiss, no, our kisses, too many to count, each one deeper, hungrier, more intoxicating than the last.
God, I almost let it happen.
When she climbed onto me, when her hands tugged at my shirt, I wanted nothing more than to give in, to forget myself and let the night swallow us whole. For a few minutes I did. I let myself taste what it would be like, to have her, to lose myself in her. And it was… overwhelming. Perfect and terrifying all at once.
But then the panic set in. The truth I’ve never told her, that I have no experience, that I wouldn’t know how to be what she deserved in that moment. The thought of disappointing her, of fumbling and ruining something so important, clenched in my chest until I had to stop.
So I lied. I told her we shouldn’t rush. I hid behind the excuse of the early flight, of needing rest, anything to cover the shame clawing at me.
Yet even now, with her sleeping soundly beside me, her hand resting trustingly against my chest, all I can think is how badly I want her. How every part of me aches at the thought of her disappointment, at the chance that she might believe I don’t want her when the truth is the opposite.
And worse, the fear that when she realizes I can’t compare to the others she’s known before me, that I’ll be clumsy, awkward, forgettable, she’ll grow bored. That one day she’ll wake up and decide I was never enough, and she’ll leave.
The thought twisted like a knife. I turned my head slightly, letting my eyes linger on her peaceful face in the dim glow from the window. She looked so soft like this, so unguarded, and my chest squeezed tight with fear and longing all tangled together.
I wanted to tell her. About me. About how this isn’t just some fleeting spark, about how the reason I held back wasn’t lack of desire, but lack of courage. But the words caught in my throat, too heavy, too dangerous.
So instead I tightened my arm around her, pulling her closer, as if holding her tighter could keep her here. My lips brushed her hair in the faintest kiss, my heart aching with the truth I couldn’t say.
~~Y/N’s POV~~
The weeks after LA blurred into a rhythm I didn’t know how to break. Jin and I fell into something that looked a lot like being in love with quiet mornings, lazy afternoons, and nights that always ended the same way.
One evening we were over at his parents’ house for dinner. We’d slipped into the kitchen to help clear dishes while his family’s laughter carried from the dining room. I was rinsing glasses when I felt him step up behind me, his hand brushing mine as he took the sponge.
“Go sit,” he murmured. “I’ll finish this.”
I turned, teasing. “What, and miss my chance to see the worldwide handsome doing dishes?”
His mouth tilted into that crooked smile, and before I could blink, he leaned down and kissed me. Just a brush at first, then deeper, hotter, until my back pressed against the counter. My breath hitched, fingers clutching his shirt, but then the clatter of silverware and his mother’s voice drifted closer. Jin pulled back so fast I nearly stumbled.
“We can’t,” he whispered, breathless, eyes darting to the doorway. “They’ll hear.”
Frustration burned, but I swallowed it, nodding stiffly.
Another time, we were at Taehyung’s place, waiting while everyone got ready to leave for dinner. The guys’ voices carried from the next room, muffled through the walls. Jin leaned against the hallway wall, and I couldn’t resist teasing him about his hoodie. He rolled his eyes, tugged me closer with a grin, and then his mouth was on mine feeling rushed, desperate, and his hands braced against the wall beside my head. The sound of Jungkook’s laughter made us jolt apart, hearts racing.
Jin tried to laugh it off, whispering, “Not the right time.”
Another night, at a house party with his friends, I slipped into the bathroom to wash my hands, closing the door behind me, only for it to crack open again as Jin slid inside.
“Jin—” I started, but he caught my wrist and pulled me against him. His kiss swallowed my protest, hot and unrestrained, his fingers tangling in my hair as the sink dug into my hip.
“God, you drive me crazy,” he muttered against my lips, the faint taste of gin on his breath.
“Then don’t stop,” I whispered, tugging him closer.
But he froze, chest heaving, and pulled back. “Someone might notice we’re gone…”
The excuse again. Always the excuse. I bit down hard on my lip, nodding, but inside frustration simmered hotter each time he left me wanting.
The “fake marriage reception” was tomorrow. A small gathering, just families and close friends would enough to satisfy everyone’s questions, enough to get our parents off our backs. My parents decided to host a dinner with the Kims the night before to celebrate. The evening stretched late, full of laughter and careful glances between Jin and me. When it finally ended, Jin insisted on driving me home. The car hummed quietly as the city lights slid past, the weight of tomorrow pressing down on both of us.
Finally, I broke the silence. “It’s weird, isn’t it? How real it all feels, even though it’s supposed to be fake.”
His grip tightened on the wheel. “It does feel real.”
I turned to him, heart pounding. “Then what are we doing, Jin? Is this all still just for show? Or is it… us?”
He glanced at me, eyes raw. “It started as pretend. But… I don’t think I can call it that anymore. Even if we can’t exactly come clean about it now.”
Warmth spread through my chest, tangled with ache. “Is that why you keep pulling back?”
He exhaled, knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. “No. It’s not that. But once we cross that line, it stops being safe. And if I screw this up… I will lose you completely.”
The car pulled up to my building. The air between us thickened, charged. I reached out, covering his hand with mine. “Stay tonight,” I whispered.
His eyes darted to mine, wide. “Y/N…”
I leaned closer, lips brushing his ear. “No excuses this time.”
For a heartbeat, I thought he’d give in. His breath hitched, his hand trembled beneath mine. But then he pulled away, shaking his head. “I can’t.”
Anger flared, sharp and hot. “You never can. You always stop. Do you even want me, Jin? Or is this just a game to you?”
His face crumpled, pained. “Of course I want you. More than you know.” He paused, swallowing hard. “But I can’t give you what you deserve. I’ve never…” His voice broke. “I’ve never done this before. With anyone.”
My breath caught. The confession hit harder than I expected. “You mean…?”
He nodded, shame flickering across his face. “I’m a virgin, okay? And I’m terrified I’ll disappoint you. That you’ll get bored. That you’ll leave.”
The world tilted. My anger ebbed, replaced by shock, tenderness, and something that felt dangerously close to love.
“Jin,” I whispered, reaching for his hand. “That’s not how this works. That’s not what I want.”
But he shook his head, pulling his hand free. Before I could say more, he leaned across the console and kissed me softly, lingering just long enough to make my chest ache.
“Goodnight,” he whispered, his breath warm against my lips.
For a moment, I wanted to argue, to beg him not to leave things like this. But instead, I sat back, swallowing hard. Maybe pushing now would only drive him further away. So I nodded, even though it felt like defeat. I got out of the car and I stood there in the wash of streetlight watching him drive away.
***
The reception venue buzzed with the hum of arriving guests, clinking glasses, and muffled laughter drifting through the walls, but in my private dressing room, silence pressed in on me. I sat at the edge of the vanity chair, fingers worrying the hem of my dress, the knot in my chest pulling tighter with every passing minute. Jin hadn’t said a word to me since last night. Not on the drive, not when our families greeted each other, not even when staff ushered us to our separate prep rooms.
The door clicked open, and my breath caught. Jin slipped inside, closing it softly behind him. His suit was perfect, tie straightened now, hair swept neatly back, but his eyes carried the same storm I’d seen in the car.
“It’s all set,” he said quietly. “The documents are fake. No real signatures, no records filed. After tonight, there won’t be any legal repercussions.”
I nodded stiffly, staring at my hands. “So it’s just another performance.”
He hesitated. “That’s what this was always supposed to be.”
My laugh came out sharp, bitter. “Then why does it feel like anything but?” I looked up at him, heat rising in my chest. “Weeks of this, Jin. Weeks of kisses, touches, and then you stop. Every time. Do you know what that does to me?”
His jaw tightened. “I stop because I… ”
“Because you’re a virgin.” The words left me flat, heavy. His confession from last night still rang in my ears. “Still, you make me feel unwanted.” My voice cracked, raw and unfiltered. “And I know you care, I know you’re trying, but when you pull away again and again, I can’t help but think maybe this whole thing isn’t real for you. Maybe I’m just convenient.”
His eyes flashed, wounded. “That’s not true.”
“Then what is true?” I demanded. “Because right now I don’t know if you want me, or if I’m just pretending so well that you don’t have to.”
The silence between us stretched taut. My throat burned. Finally, I stood, smoothing my dress with shaking hands. “Forget it. Let’s just get this over with. The sooner we smile and cut the cake, the sooner this is behind us.”
I reached for the doorknob, but before I could twist it, Jin’s hand slammed against the wood beside mine. The door rattled, then clicked shut as he turned the lock. My breath caught as his body pressed close, pinning me in place.
“Don’t say that,” he said, voice low, rough at the edges. His eyes burned into mine, fierce and unyielding. “Don’t ever think I don’t want you. Do you know how hard it’s been, holding myself back? Every time I stop, it’s not because I don’t want you, it’s because I want you too much.”
My lips parted, words tangling, but he didn’t give me the chance. His mouth found mine, urgent, consuming, years of restraint snapping all at once. His hands framed my face, slid down to my waist, pulling me flush against him as if he couldn’t bear the space between us.
I gasped into the kiss, clutching his lapels, the air charged and dizzying. When he broke away just long enough to murmur, “Let me show you,” my knees nearly gave out.
And then he dropped, sinking down in front of me. My heart thundered, every nerve alive, as his hands gripped my hips, anchoring me to the door. He tilted his head back, eyes locking with mine, voice low and rough.
“We can stop if you want to.”
A disbelieving laugh burst from me, half-shaky, half-angry. “Are you serious right now? After weeks of this? You better not tease me, Jin. For once in your life, just finish what you started.”
For a beat, the tension between us hovered, electric. Then his mouth curved into the faintest grin, that familiar mischief slipping through. He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest.
“Then put your leg up on my shoulder, baby,” he murmured, his hands sliding lower to guide me.
Heat surged through me, my breath catching as every ounce of frustration unraveled into anticipation. I obeyed without hesitation.
His hands slipped beneath my dress, rough palms gliding up my thighs like he’d been starved for this, starved for me. When his fingers brushed the edge of my underwear, he paused, exhaling a breath that sent heat pulsing straight through me. “Lace,” he whispered, voice low and reverent.
I opened my mouth to respond, but only a sharp inhale escaped as his thumbs hooked the waistband. He looked up, eyes dark and steady. “I’m not leaving this room until I’ve tasted every inch of you.”
I didn’t say a word.
Slowly, deliberately, he slid the fabric down with his teeth. The lace slipped past my hips, thighs, knees, until it dropped to the floor like a silent surrender. He took a moment, eyes locked on me like I was something sacred.
His hands returned to my hips. He glanced up once, eyes burning. “I’ve imagined this,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Too many times. And it never came close to this.”
Then his mouth found me and everything inside me scattered.
I gasped, the sound loud in the quiet room, but he only hummed, pleased. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough against my core. “That’s it. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
My head hit the door behind me, one hand clawing for balance, the other tangling in his hair. He didn’t relent, slow and thorough, every movement of his mouth purposeful, not just to please me but to memorize me.
“You’re already shaking,” he said with a breathless laugh, pride thick in his voice. “Didn’t think I’d get you this fast.”
“Jin—”
His name was a warning, or a plea, I couldn’t tell.
“You always get like this?” he murmured, kissing higher, softer. “Or is it just me?”
I whimpered, biting my lip. He grinned against my skin. “Thought so.”
Then he deepened it.
“Hold on,” he said, lifting my second leg to his other shoulder. His hands gripped and kneaded my hips, steadying me while pushing his tongue even deeper.
Every growl and whispered word broke me open in the best way. Weeks of pent-up frustration crashed over me as my orgasm hit hard and fast when Jin sucked on my clit.
He didn’t stop, licking me out, draining every inch of me.
“Fuck, baby, you taste so good. Wish I’d tasted you sooner.”
He lowered one leg slowly but kept holding my hips like he knew I’d fall without him. I was about to speak, maybe scold him for making me wait so long, when his hand slid between my legs.
Two fingers slipped inside me, smooth and deep.
The moan that tore from me wasn’t mine. My body arched beneath him.
“Fuck,” he whispered, resting his head briefly against my thigh. “You’re still so wet.”
He moved inside me, slow and devastating. I wanted to protest, but he looked up, reading my mind.
“You’re gonna come again for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “I want to feel you fall apart on my hand. I want to see you come undone by me.”
The sight was almost too much. Him on his knees, lips glistening, eyes pleading and hungry. I clenched around him, tension unbearable.
“That’s it,” he murmured, curling his fingers just right. “Come on, baby. Give it to me.”
And I did.
My entire body locked, then shattered. The second orgasm tore through me even harder than the first, wave after wave of heat and light, crashing through my veins.
He held me through all of it with his mouth, his fingers, his voice. Anchoring me. Worshiping me. Breaking me open.
And when I finally came down, breathless and half-gone, he pressed a kiss to my inner thigh before getting up. I sagged against the door, trembling, barely able to catch my breath. My legs felt like water, my chest rising and falling in jagged bursts. A breathless laugh escaped me, shaky and disbelieving. “You’re telling me you’re a virgin? No chance. Not after that.”
His lips quirked, but his eyes were soft, almost shy. “I wasn’t lying," he said, standing slowly, his hands steadying me as he rose. “I barely slept last night. I spent hours reading, watching, studying… anything I could. Because I wanted to be good for you. I wanted to please you.”
My chest tightened, the ache almost too much. He’d done all of this just to give me what I needed, to prove I wasn’t unwanted.
When he stepped closer, the heat of his body pressing against mine, I felt it, the hard, insistent proof of his arousal against my hip. My breath caught, my fingers twitching at his waistband. “Let me take care of you now,” I whispered, lips brushing his jaw. “You deserve—”
But he caught my wrist gently, shaking his head. His forehead pressed to mine, his voice low but firm. “Not here. Not yet. If we start, I won’t be able to stop. And we can’t walk into that reception looking like… this.” His thumb stroked over my knuckles, a small, grounding gesture. “We’ll get through this. Just a few hours. Then we’ll be free of all of it: the questions, the parents, the act. And then…” His mouth curved into a small, wicked smile. “Then I’m all yours.”
***
The lights of the reception hall hit me like a spotlight when we finally walked in together, Jin’s hand steady against the small of my back. Applause rose from our families, glasses clinking, cameras flashing on phones, but all I could think about was the way his hands had gripped my hips against the dressing room door.
My smile felt pasted on, brittle around the edges. My parents were beaming, his parents glowing, relatives reaching out to congratulate us as if this was anything but a script. I nodded, laughed when I was supposed to, let Jin pull out my chair beside his. But every time I blinked, I saw him on his knees. Every polite toast blurred into the echo of his voice in my ear: That’s it, come on, baby. Give it to me.
I could still feel the phantom pressure of his fingers, the heat of his mouth, the way my body had betrayed me completely under his touch. My pulse jumped whenever his thigh brushed mine beneath the table, my skin prickling with memory.
“Y/N,” my mother’s voice cut in, snapping me back. She was smiling at me from across the table. “You look so radiant tonight.”
“Th-thank you,” I stammered, cheeks burning for reasons she couldn’t possibly know. Jin’s hand found mine under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but even that simple touch sent sparks racing through me.
I stole a glance at him beside me, his jaw sharp in the warm light, his expression calm and composed for everyone else. Only I knew what lay beneath, the man who’d unraveled me completely behind a locked door not an hour ago.
I shifted in my seat, forcing another smile at some well-meaning relative who asked when we planned to honeymoon, while all I could think was how much longer I had to sit here pretending when every nerve in my body was still humming from Jin.
~~JIN’s POV~~
By the time they finally escaped the reception and drove back to Jin’s place, his whole body was buzzing. Not from the champagne or the endless congratulations, but from her. Every glance, every brush of her hand, every reminder of what had happened in that dressing room.
Inside, the quiet felt like a blessing. He loosened his tie and turned to her with a smile that felt more real than any he’d worn all night.
“Go change into something comfortable,” he told her. “I’ll grab some glasses, pour us a drink. We should toast… to pulling this off, to not having to sit through any more arranged dinners. To finally focusing on what we want.”
Her eyes softened, something unreadable flickering there, but she nodded and disappeared down the hall toward his room. Jin busied himself in the kitchen, twisting open a bottle of champagne, the fizz rising in the neck as he poured carefully into two glasses. His heart was still racing, some part of him couldn’t shake the image of her earlier, flushed and undone, the sound of her voice when she begged him not to stop.
Then her voice floated down the hall. “Jin? Can you help me for a second?”
He set the glasses aside and wiped his palms against his slacks before heading to the bedroom. He pushed the door open slowly.
“Need help with the zipper?” he started, then forgot how to speak.
She wasn’t struggling with the dress. The dress was gone.
She lay across his bed in a white lace set, delicate straps hugging her skin, the sheer fabric leaving almost nothing to the imagination. His breath stopped cold in his chest. Her gaze caught his, steady, full of a heat he had only dreamed of, and she smiled slow, dangerous, sure of herself.
“I don’t need help with the dress,” she said softly, her voice like silk. “I wanted you to see me. To really see me. And to let me show you what it feels like to be with me. For real.”
His pulse thundered so loudly he thought it might shake the walls. His throat was dry, his hands frozen at his sides, but his entire body leaned toward her as if pulled by gravity itself.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, the lace shifting with the movement, and tilted her head. “You’ve given me so much already, Jin. Let me return the favor.”
He swallowed hard, torn between panic and desire, the war raging inside him. She looked devastating, confident, and so sure of what she wanted and all he could think was that she deserved better than his hesitation.
“Y/N…” His voice broke on her name.
She slid off the bed and came toward him, every step deliberate, until she stood inches away. Her hand rose, light as air, resting against his chest. “You don’t have to be afraid,” she whispered. “You don’t have to hold back anymore.”
Jin wasn’t sure he could move until she guided him, pushing his jacket from his shoulders, the fabric whispering to the floor. Her knuckles skimmed his collarbone as she undid the top buttons of his shirt. Every small, deliberate touch stole another breath from him.
“If anything feels too fast,” she murmured, “you tell me. I’ll stop. I’ll do this how you need.”
He nodded, because words had abandoned him. She kissed him, slowly at first, like they had all the time in the world. The kiss deepened. His hands found her waist on instinct. The lace under his palms made him shiver.
She tugged him back until he hit the edge of the mattress and sat. She stayed standing between his knees, and the angle forced his head back so he had to look up at her. She smiled, soft and wicked all at once, then climbed over him, straddling his lap in one fluid motion that turned his pulse feral.
“Breathe,” she whispered, and he did, because she asked him to.
Her mouth traced along his jaw, the corner of his throat; her thumbs stroked slow circles at his hips. When he tensed, she felt it immediately and paused, eyes lifting to his.
“Still with me?”
“Yeah.” His throat worked. “Don’t… don’t stop.”
She kissed him again, guiding his hands, showing him where to touch, how to hold her. His fingers trembled as they traced the curve of her ribs, and her breath caught as he grazed the edge of her bra. Her chest rose against him, and she shivered when he followed the line of her collarbone. Her hands moved to his, guiding them to the clasp of her bra. The gentle click of the hook echoed in the quiet room, somehow heavier than it should have been.
He slid the straps down her shoulders, revealing more of her to him, inch by inch. His heart raced as he reached out, hands trembling slightly as they cupped her, warm skin beneath his fingertips.
She gasped, arching into him. He leaned down to kiss her again, his lips rough against hers. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice raw as his mouth trailed lower, along her neck, to the swell of her breast. He took one nipple in his mouth while his fingertips still played with the other.
Her moan vibrated through him, undoing every last piece of restraint. When her hands slipped lower, undoing his pants, Jin’s pulse skittered. She tugged the fabric down, and when he was finally bare, her eyes widened. Then she laughed, low and breathless, biting her lip.
He froze, stomach twisting. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her smirk betrayed her. “Just… so I guess the whole ‘king size’ rumor wasn’t a lie after all.”
Heat surged up his neck. “You know about that?”
“Jin, it’s a top five search result. I’m shocked you’ve kept this hidden from the world,” she teased, gaze flicking down and back again. “Seriously, how have you never even had fun with girls? Seems like a waste.”
He wanted to hide, but she was too close, too warm. He swallowed, voice rough. “Work. Music. The group. It was always everything, all at once. There wasn’t room for… distractions like that. And…” He hesitated, forcing the words out. “People don’t really approach me that way. Not seriously. Half of them are scared off before they even try.”
Her expression softened, the teasing fading into something warmer. She reached up, brushing her thumb across his cheekbone. “Their loss,” she whispered.
Her hand slipped lower, closing around him, and he nearly buckled from the shock of it. His head dropped forward against her shoulder, a rough sound escaping his throat.
“It’s okay, Jin” she whispered into his ear, her voice steady where his body was anything but. “You can let go.”
He wanted to last, to give her everything she deserved, but the intensity of her touch, the way she whispered his name, pushed him past his limits too quickly. He tensed, stifling a groan, shame burning through him even as pleasure tore him apart. He came all over her hand still clinging around him, making a mess out of both. When he stopped trembling, his breath was ragged, his forehead pressed to hers. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, mortified. “God, Y/N, I didn’t mean to…”
She cupped his face, pulling him back so he had to meet her eyes. “Don’t apologize,” she said softly, firmly. “It’s supposed to be like this for the first time. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Her words steadied him. The knot in his chest loosened and she kissed him again. She quickly got up to grab some tissues from the nightstand and cleaned them up.
After a few minutes, his breathing evened out. She smiled softly, her voice barely a whisper, “Let’s try again.”
She didn’t have to say it twice. Something ignited inside him, and before she knew it, he was on his feet, pulling her up and urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. She did, a small chuckle escaping her lips that made him smile in return. He kissed her for a moment like that, before gently laying her back down on the bed. This time, they kissed slower, more deliberately.
Every kiss felt deeper, filled with more passion. Each time they connected, Jin could feel his desire growing, could sense hers as well. She bucked her hips upward, trying to draw him closer, to get him where she needed him to be.
"Please, Jin," she whispered, arching higher into him, her hips grinding against his. Her warmth enveloped him, sending shivers of anticipation down his spine. Jin gasped, a part of him aching to be inside her, to let himself be consumed by her completely. But then, just as things started to build, a thought crashed through his mind.
"Shit," he muttered, pulling back slightly. "I don’t have any condoms in the house." Panic flickered in his eyes, but she just laughed softly, turning her head toward his bedside table. “I knew you wouldn’t,” she teased, her voice laced with affection. “Don’t worry, I brought some. They’re in the first drawer.”
“Ugh, thank you…” he exhaled in relief, moving to grab one. Y/N took the wrapper from his hand, tearing it open with her teeth without breaking eye contact. She slid the condom onto him, her hands slow, deliberate, as she positioned him exactly where she had wanted him for so long. Her touch was gentle as she guided him, easing him inside her inch by inch. Jin couldn’t help but gasp at the overwhelming heat, the tightness that gripped him so completely. His hands dug into her hips, holding onto her like a lifeline, every nerve screaming at him to hold on, to not rush.
Slowly, his body began to move, and soon his instincts took over. He found a rhythm, letting the tension between them build. Her head fell back, a low moan escaping her lips as she dug her nails lightly into his shoulders.
“Jin,” she whispered, the sound like a plea. “Yes… just like that.”
The sound of her voice, thick with need, shattered his restraint. Her breath hitched in a soft, desperate plea, and Jin felt the world narrow down to just her. He kissed her neck, his lips trailing down the smooth column of her throat, savoring the way her pulse fluttered under his touch. His hands roamed, fingertips grazing her skin as though trying to memorize every inch of her. She gasped, her back arching beneath him, and he followed, kissing her jaw, nipping at her earlobe before claiming her lips again in a deep, insistent kiss.
Every tremor of her body was a signal, every breath she took a pull on his desire, urging him to move faster, to dive deeper into her. He could hear the soft, broken moans she tried to stifle, the way her hands gripped his shoulders like she was afraid he'd slip away, even though neither of them wanted that.
“Jin, harder please...” she whispered against his lips, her voice a hushed plea for more, for all of him. His rhythm grew more frantic, more desperate, as though everything inside him was breaking free.
"Jin... yes, right there... keep going..." Her words were barely more than a breathless murmur, but they lit a fire inside him, urging him forward.
When she finally shattered beneath him, her body arching up into his with a loud, breathless cry, everything inside him went still for a moment. Her hands tightened in the sheets, her chest pressing into his as she came undone, every muscle in her body trembling from the force of her release. She pulled him in closer, as though trying to keep him locked inside her forever. His name fell from her lips like a prayer.
The sound of her pleasure, the sight of her in that moment, pushed him over the edge. Jin followed her, his own release crashing through him like a tidal wave. He gripped her tighter, his entire body locked against hers as if they could become one. He felt her fingers digging into his skin, her chest rising and falling with the same ragged breaths he was taking.
This time, there was no shame. No hesitation. No regret. He didn’t pull away afterward, didn’t let himself get lost in the noise in his head. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of completion. Like every piece of him had fallen into place, like he’d stepped into something that had been waiting for him all along. Something he could never walk away from.
***
~~Y/N’s PV~~ (Two years later)
Jin’s hand was warm in mine as we walked down the busy street, his thumb brushing lazy circles over my skin the way he always did when he was trying to distract me from asking too many questions. He’d been annoyingly secretive all week, insisting he had “something planned,” and now here we were, weaving through the late afternoon crowd while he wore that mischievous smile I both loved and dreaded.
We’d been like this for two years now. Two years of kisses that never stopped, of late-night ramen runs, of mornings tangled in each other’s arms. Two years of building a life together while our parents still believed in the façade of a marriage that technically never existed. The only thing fake left between us was that one detail: the paper they thought was real but never was. Everything else had become real in ways I’d never imagined.
My phone dinged, cutting through the hum of the city. I glanced down, expecting an email or a text, but my chest tightened when I saw the calendar reminder flashing across the screen.
“Fake Marriage Contract Ends!! Announce Divorce.”
I stopped walking for a second, my stomach flipping. I had completely forgotten I’d set that up two years ago, back when this all felt like a temporary arrangement instead of… whatever it had grown into.
I laughed, shoving the phone toward him. “Can you believe I still have this reminder? Today was supposed to be the big day of our divorce.’”
Jin didn’t even flinch. His grip on my hand tightened, and he gave me that quiet, knowing smile. “I know.”
My brow furrowed. “You… know?”
“That’s why we’re going where we’re going,” he said simply, tugging me forward before I could ask more.
I followed, my confusion mounting as we turned a corner and he led me toward a tall building I hadn’t paid attention to before. The glass doors slid open, and the cool air hit my face as we stepped inside. I blinked, looking around at rows of counters, the faint murmur of clerks, people shuffling papers.
“Wait…” My laugh came out awkward, nervous. “Jin. This is a civil building. You know we’re not actually married, right? So we don’t need to be here to file a divorce.”
He stopped walking, turning to face me. The seriousness in his eyes made my chest tighten. “Y/N…”
I cut him off, panic rising. “Oh my God, you’re not breaking up with me like this, are you? Jin, that’s not funny. I swear if this is some kind of twisted joke, I’ll…”
He laughed then, the sound warm and unshaken, pulling me right out of my spiral. His hands came up to cradle my face, thumbs brushing gently along my cheeks. “No. No, baby. I’m not breaking up with you. I love you!”
I blinked up at him, heart still racing, confusion warring with relief. “Then what are we doing here?”
His smile softened, and I saw it then, the nerves hiding behind his calm, the way his fingers trembled just slightly where they touched my skin.
“We’re not here to get a fake divorce,” he said, his voice low, steady, sure. He took a breath, and then his eyes locked with mine. “We’re here to get married. For real this time.”
Summary: Jin of BTS has mastered the stage, but at 34, he's losing the battle at home, his mother won't stop pushing him toward marriage. When she arranges an "innocent" dinner with the daughter of a longtime family friend, Jin is furious. He has no time for romance, let alone an arranged setup. But fate throws him off balance when he meets Y/N, a sharp, ambitious woman who has no interest in being tied down either. From awkward encounters and fiery banter to a shocking proposal of a fake marriage, the two find themselves caught between family expectations and their own desires. What begins as a scheme to free themselves from relentless matchmaking soon stirs something real, something neither of them planned for. Love, duty, and deception collide in this slow-burn romance. Can Jin and Y/N keep up the act, or will the lines between pretense and passion blur beyond repair?
A/N: This story has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, and I’m so excited to finally share it. Since Tumblr won’t let me post it all at once, I’ve had to split it into two parts, even though it’s technically a one-shot 🥺. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it! Feel free to share your thoughts 💕
Jin sat at the dining table of his parents home, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. His mother bustled around the kitchen, her every movement deliberate as she prepared breakfast. The aroma of doenjang-jjigae filled the air, but Jin’s appetite seemed absent. He stared into his coffee, swirling it absentmindedly.
“Jin-ah,” his mother began, her tone light but her words carefully measured. “You’re 34 now, a full-grown man, and yet, you’re still single.”
Jin groaned, sinking deeper into his chair. “Eomma, we’ve been over this. I’ve been busy with work. It’s not like I’m avoiding marriage on purpose.”
“Busy or not, it’s time to think about your future,” she said, setting a plate of banchan in front of him. “Your father and I worry about you. What will you do when you’re older? Who will take care of you?”
Jin took a deep breath, bracing himself for the conversation he knew was inevitable. “Eomma, I can take care of myself just fine.”
“Aigoo, you say that now, but life is better with a partner. And your father and I have someone in mind.” She smiled knowingly, placing her hands on her hips. “The daughter of the Y/L/N family.”
Jin’s eyes widened. “The Y/L/N family? That family who came over once during Chuseok?”
His mother nodded, her face lighting up with excitement. “Exactly! They have a daughter, Y/N, who is a lovely girl. She’s been to America for the past decade. She’s back in Korea for good now and still single, just like you. She’s smart, beautiful, and comes from a good family.”
Jin rubbed his temples, trying to process the information. “Eomma, are you seriously trying to set me up in an arranged marriage? This isn’t the Joseon era.”
“It’s not an arranged marriage,” she countered, her voice softening. “Think of it as an introduction. You’ll meet her, spend some time together, and see if there’s a spark. No pressure.”
“No pressure?” Jin repeated, raising an eyebrow. “This is you we’re talking about, Eomma. If I even as much as smile at her, you’ll start planning the wedding.”
She laughed, brushing off his comment. “Nonsense. I just want you to be happy. And trust me, Y/N is perfect for you. Her parents think so too. They are coming over this weekend for dinner”.
Jin sighed, shaking his head. “No, Eomma. I’m not doing this. I already have a schedule for work this weekend, and I won’t be able to come.” He stood up, pushing his chair back with a frustrated scrape against the floor.
His mother’s expression hardened slightly, though her tone remained calm. “Jin-ah, you’re going to meet her whether you like it or not. I’ve already invited them over, and her parents are making sure she comes too.”
Jin froze for a moment before exhaling sharply. “Eomma, I said no. I’ll figure out my own life when I’m ready.” Without another word, he grabbed his coffee and left the room, leaving his mother staring after him with a mixture of determination and concern.
Later that day, Jin walked into the dressing room where the other BTS members were gathered. The sound of laughter filled the air as they lounged on the couches, scrolling through their phones and chatting. Taehyung was mid-sentence when he spotted Jin and grinned.
“Hyung, you look like you’ve just come from war. What happened?”
Jin plopped down onto a chair with a dramatic sigh. “My mom is at it again.”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess…marriage talk?”
“Bingo,” Jin replied, rubbing his temples. “She’s trying to set me up with some old family friend’s daughter. Apparently, they’re bringing her over this weekend.”
The room erupted into laughter.
“You’re the oldest of us, hyung,” Jimin teased. “Of course she’s going to push you now that your older brother is already settled, the rest of us still have time.”
Hoseok leaned forward, his grin mischievous. “Here’s what you should do: go to the dinner, but act rude enough that they don’t want their daughter to marry you. Problem solved.”
“That’s terrible advice,” Namjoon said, though he was clearly holding back a laugh. “But... also effective.”
Jin groaned. “No, I’m not going. She’s done this before, you know. A couple of years ago, she set me up with someone, and it turned out the girl was a lesbian, forced by her parents to meet me. It was awkward as hell.”
“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, eyes wide.
“Yeah. Who knows what kind of strings my mom pulled this time? I mean, I’ve met the Y/L/N family before, but that was like years ago, only the parents nothing more. Since I’ve been an idol ever since, I have never met them again. It’s just... awkward. Hell no, I’m not going.”
Taehyung smirked, slinging an arm around Jin’s shoulders. “Hyung, just think of it as fan service. Charm her parents, and then ghost them after.”
“Fan service?” Jin scoffed, pushing him off. “This isn’t a concert.”
“Still,” Yoongi said, “it might be easier to just go along with it than to keep fighting your mom. She’s persistent.”
“Persistent is an understatement,” Jin muttered. “But no. I’m not doing it. End of story.”
The following days passed in a blur of tight schedules and rehearsals. The group was preparing for an upcoming photoshoot, along with dance practice for a special performance. As the oldest, Jin worked hard to keep up with the younger members, his professionalism intact despite the lingering frustration over his mother’s plans.
“Hyung, your footwork was off during the second verse,” Jungkook pointed out after their fifth run-through of the choreography.
“Off?” Jin raised an eyebrow, wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel. “It’s called artistic improvisation.”
“It’s called being lazy,” Jimin teased, dodging a playful swat from Jin.
“Let’s take five,” Hoseok called out, noticing everyone’s tired expressions.
As they sat down, Namjoon glanced at Jin. “You good? You’ve been spacing out.”
“Yeah, just... family stuff,” Jin replied, not elaborating further.
***
It was Sunday afternoon and Jin was finally enjoying a rare moment of peace when his phone buzzed insistently on the coffee table. He picked it up, noting the caller ID: Hyung.
“Hey,” Jin answered, leaning back on the couch.
“Jin-ah, I need your help,” his older brother said, his voice tinged with urgency. “Eomma’s not feeling well, probably overexerted herself again, and I have to pick up my kids from kindergarten. Can you come over? I’ll explain more when you get here.”
Jin sat upright, concern flashing across his face. “What? Is she okay? Did she see a doctor?”
“She’s fine, just resting, but I can’t leave her alone. Can you come or not?”
“I’ll be there,” Jin replied without hesitation.
Jin pulled up to the ground floor of the parking complex beneath his family’s building within 30 minutes. He noticed a car parked in a spot that belonged to his family, and his brows furrowed in curiosity. Before he could ponder further, his eyes caught movement at the trunk.
A woman stood there, struggling to balance a large tray covered with what seemed to be an assortment of dishes and a stack of neatly wrapped gift boxes. She was dressed impeccably, her hair pinned up in a neat bun, but the way she teetered under the load made it clear she was fighting to keep everything from toppling over.
Jin climbed out of his car and shut the door, the sound catching her attention. She glanced up briefly, her expression neutral but focused, before looking back at the precarious tray in her hands. Jin adjusted his mask, which covered most of his face, before walking toward her, noting how her eyes briefly flicked to him before she continued her careful balancing act.
“Need some help?” Jin offered, stepping toward her.
“I’ve got it,” she replied quickly, her tone polite but firm.
Jin paused, crossing his arms as he watched her adjust her grip on the tray. “Are you sure about that? Because it looks like those boxes are seconds away from becoming street art.”
“I said I’ve got it,” she repeated, her voice clipped this time. She tilted her chin defiantly, clearly intent on managing on her own.
Jin chuckled softly to himself and shook his head. “Alright, suit yourself.”
He turned toward the elevator, his hands slipping casually into his pockets.
As he pressed the button to call the elevator, he glanced back one more time, watching the woman struggle to maneuver the heavy tray through the door. A small smirk tugged at his lips, and he couldn’t help but shake his head, muttering to himself, “Some people just don’t know when to accept help.”
He stepped into the elevator once it arrived, leaving her behind.
A few moments later, the elevator doors closed, and Jin leaned against the wall with a soft sigh. Not long after Jin entered his family’s apartment, the lights dimmed, and the quiet atmosphere quickly enveloped him. He called out casually as he kicked off his shoes, “Hyung? Mom?” But there was no response.
As Jin walked deeper into the living room, he heard laughter coming from the kitchen. Curious, he followed the sound, pushing the door open gently.What he saw made him freeze.
The kitchen was full of people. His parents, his older brother, and his brother’s wife, along with their children. Seokjin’s gaze shifted to the other side of the room, where the Y/L/N family sat. The sight was a little overwhelming, and his eyes quickly fell on the two empty chairs at the table, which seemed to have been left intentionally open.
Before he could process everything, the woman from the elevator, Y/N, walked past him, entering the room with an air of confidence. She greeted the group with a smooth, practiced tone.
“Hello, everyone,” she said, her attention immediately focused on the people in the room. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Her presence filled the space, and she fit right in as the conversation shifted to accommodate her effortlessly.
Seokjin’s mother looked up, her expression lighting up in recognition. “Ah, you’re here! Good, good,” she said with warmth, giving a nod of approval to Y/N. The group’s attention turned toward her as she smiled back.
Just then, Seokjin’s mother caught sight of him standing at the doorway, and her eyes widened slightly. “Oh? So, have you two met already?” she said, her voice filled with genuine surprise. “Wow, fate really does work fast, doesn’t it? I was worried you might need more time, but it looks like everything’s coming together nicely.”
Seokjin felt an immediate pang of disbelief and frustration. He blinked, a sense of betrayal creeping up inside him, but he masked it quickly, not letting it show on his face. His mother’s words rang in his ears, and his mind raced. He glanced from her to Y/N, still processing the coincidence and the weight of the situation he suddenly found himself in.
Seokjin’s mother continued, her voice filled with amusement, unaware of his internal turmoil. “Seokjin, this is Y/N. The daughter of the Y/L/N family I’ve been telling you about,” she said with a smile, casting a knowing look toward her son. A soft smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. “I’m sure you two will get along just fine.”
Seokjin’s stomach tightened. He wasn’t sure if he was more surprised or irritated, but he was definitely overwhelmed. He glanced briefly at Y/N, who caught his gaze for a moment, her expression unreadable, before turning her attention back to the others.
Feeling the pressure building in the room, Seokjin instinctively removed his mask as he approached the Y/L/N family, trying to play it off with a forced smile. “Hello,” he greeted them, his voice steady despite the swirl of emotions inside. He bowed his head slightly in respect, and while his greeting was polite, there was a certain wariness in his eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone.
Seokjin exhaled quietly, trying to steady himself. His thoughts raced, but on the surface, he gave nothing away. He caught his older brother’s eye for a moment, and his brother mouthed a small "sorry" before looking away, clearly aware of how complicated this whole situation was becoming.
Seokjin took a seat at one of the empty chairs, the weight of everything settling on him. His fingers twitched slightly, betraying his inner restlessness, but he kept his posture relaxed, as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. The chatter around him resumed, but it all felt distant, as if he were listening from underwater.
Just as Seokjin was starting to zone out, his mother’s voice broke through the noise.
“Seokjin, darling, could you please help Y/N with those bags? She can put them in my bedroom,” she asked, her tone casual, as though nothing was strange about the request. “And after that, show her around the house briefly. Don’t take too long, though. The food will get cold.”
Seokjin’s lips parted in disbelief for a moment, before he quickly masked his reaction. He almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. He was being asked to help Y/N with her bags after he’d already offered earlier, only for her to refuse. He met her eyes for a second, wondering if she found the situation as amusing as he did.
Y/N, who had been sitting quietly, seemed just as caught off guard. She didn’t immediately respond, her gaze flicking between him and his mother. Seokjin gave her a subtle, almost apologetic glance before he stood up from his chair.
“Sure,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll be right back.”
He moved toward the bags by the door, still processing the bizarre turn of events. The fact that his mother seemed so oblivious to the tension between him and Y/N only made it harder to ignore. He bent down to pick up the bags, feeling Y/N’s eyes on him as he did.
As he carefully adjusted the bags to carry them, he briefly glanced back at his mom, who was smiling at him as though everything was perfectly normal. He sighed internally and headed toward the staircase, the weight of his actions feeling heavier with every step.
Once he reached the top of the stairs, he motioned for Y/N to follow him. She did so quietly, her face still a mask of composure, but Seokjin could tell she was just as uncomfortable with the situation as he was. He entered the room and gently placed the bags on the bed, straightened up, turning to face Y/N. His tone was neutral, but inside, he was trying to steady the strange mix of emotions swirling within him. "Here you go," he said, his voice calm but distant, not wanting to add to the tension that was already there.
Y/N stood there quietly for a moment, her gaze drifting over the bags, but her mind clearly elsewhere. Her posture was still confident, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes. Seokjin shifted his weight, awkwardly glancing at the door, trying to think of something to say to break the silence.
Then, in a soft murmur, Y/N spoke, her voice almost a whisper. "Can't believe that was you."
Seokjin blinked, caught off guard by her words. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly, confusion crossing his features. "Huh?"
Y/N looked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. There was a brief flicker in her eyes, almost like she was assessing him before she spoke again, this time with a touch more firmness. "The guy I met earlier. I didn’t expect it to be you." Her voice was steady, but there was a quiet realization there, as if she’d only just pieced everything together.
Seokjin felt a rush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. He’d assumed the encounter earlier was something fleeting, a mere coincidence. But now, hearing her speak like that, it felt as if the gravity of the situation had just hit him square in the chest. She was no stranger to these kinds of things, that much was clear.
"Yeah, well..." Seokjin chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't expect it either."
Y/N gave a dry, knowing smile, a slight, almost imperceptible tilt to her lips. "Of course you didn't." She turned away, glancing at the door as if signaling she was ready to move past the moment, but her tone carried an undertone of something deeper. Something Seokjin wasn’t sure he was ready to address just yet.
She wasn’t just any woman. She had a presence about her, a strength in the way she carried herself, a no-nonsense attitude that spoke volumes about her life experience. Seokjin realized, with some discomfort, that this was going to be more complicated than he'd first thought.
~~Y/N's POV~~
This is all so embarrassing.
I could feel my face heat up as I quickly turned away from Seokjin, trying to ignore the unease pooling in my stomach. This whole situation was starting to spiral out of control. I had planned for this meeting to go differently, but the awkward encounter we’d just had had completely thrown me off track.
I had come in prepared with my “persona” of the quiet, but biggest gold digger girly girl who could smile and get her way out of any uncomfortable situation. The one who would make him cringe, who would make him beg his mom to find someone else. But now? That plan was shattered. I could barely even look at him without feeling like a fool. If I had been paying attention earlier, if he hadn’t been wearing that mask... I would have recognized him.
Seokjin wasn’t just some random guy, after all. He was a superstar. I’d seen his face a thousand times in the media, on posters, on TV. The moment he took off that mask, it all clicked into place, and I felt a wave of dread wash over me.
But this wasn’t my fault. I didn’t want to get tangled in his world. Not just because of his fame, but because of the pressure from my parents. They had orchestrated this whole thing, making me meet with him, pushing us together, as if they could somehow make my life a little easier by pairing me with a man of his stature. But I wanted nothing of it.
So, I had to figure out how to get out of this. I needed to make him not like me. I needed to convince him that I wasn’t the one for him, that he should beg his mother to find someone else, someone who wasn’t tangled up in her own family’s expectations.
I rushed downstairs, trying to collect myself, my mind racing with all the possible ways I could salvage the situation. I needed a strategy. I needed to come up with something that would make this whole thing a little less... awkward. But for now, I’d play it cool. I’d figure it out at the table with everyone else.
But the dinner was a disaster as well. Or at least it felt that way to me. Sitting there, surrounded by polite laughter and endless compliments about Seokjin’s illustrious career, I couldn’t help but feel like a sideshow in someone else’s life. Every smile I forced felt faker than the last, and every glance Seokjin and I exchanged across the table only added to the weight pressing down on my chest. After the plates were cleared and the families launched into another round of conversation, I excused myself. I needed air, a moment to think, to escape the growing suffocation of this entire situation.
I moved quickly down the hall, the murmur of overlapping voices fading behind me. My chest felt tight, every step reminding me how badly I needed to get away from the prying eyes and unspoken expectations. The elevator doors slid open smoothly, and I stepped inside, pressing the button for the ground floor.
On my way here, I spotted a garden surrounding the building, a quiet, beautifully lit space that had caught my attention. I wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like the perfect place to catch my breath. Something about the greenery and the softly glowing lights felt grounding, far removed from the orchestrated chaos upstairs.
The elevator ride down was uneventful, the hum of the machinery filling the silence. As the doors opened, I stepped into the lobby and found the nearest exit leading to the garden. The moment I stepped outside, a soft breeze greeted me, carrying the faint, comforting scent of flowers. The cobblestone path I’d glimpsed earlier wound gently through rows of hedges and flower beds, leading to a small fountain that glimmered under the soft light of the lampposts scattered around.
Finally, I could breathe. I walked slowly along the path, taking in the sights, letting the evening air cool the heat of frustration that had been simmering since dinner. The quiet was a stark contrast to the din of forced conversations upstairs, and for the first time all evening, I felt my shoulders begin to relax.
But my peace was short-lived.
“I figured you’d end up here,” a voice said behind me, startling me enough to make me whirl around.
There he was, Seokjin, leaning casually against one of the lampposts, his hands tucked into his pockets. The soft glow of the light highlighted his features, and he wore an expression that was equal parts amused and curious.
“Do you always sneak up on people like that?” I asked, pressing a hand to my chest to steady my racing heart. My tone came out sharper than I intended.
“Not always,” he replied, pushing off the lamppost and taking a slow step toward me. “But you’re not exactly hard to find.”
I frowned, crossing my arms as I looked at him. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, stopping a few steps away. “Same thing as you, I guess. I needed some air.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge if he was being serious or just making fun of me. His expression gave nothing away, his face frustratingly calm. “You seemed pretty comfortable back there. I didn’t think you’d need a break.”
His lips quirked into a small, almost teasing smile. “Trust me, I’ve had more than my fair share of family dinners like this one.”
I let out a short, dry laugh. “So, what? You just followed me?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “I came down here because it’s quiet, and I like this garden.”
I didn’t know if I believed him, but his tone didn’t carry the smugness I’d expected. He sounded... genuine. For a moment, the tension between us lessened, though it didn’t completely disappear.
I turned back toward the fountain, my fingers brushing along the cool stone rim. “It’s nice here,” I admitted softly. “Peaceful.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. “It’s one of the only places I can really think when I’m here.”
I glanced at him, surprised by his honesty. His gaze was fixed on the fountain, his face unreadable but calm. There was something about his demeanor that threw me off balance, something I couldn’t quite pin down.
“This whole situation,” I began, my voice quieter now, “you know it’s a setup, right? They want us to marry or something. No offense, but you’re not my type. And even if you were, I’m very career-oriented. I don’t need a guy to ruin my plans.”
Seokjin raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile. “Not your type?” he repeated, mock-offended. “You’re seriously telling me this worldwide handsome face isn’t your type?” He gestured dramatically to himself, making me roll my eyes.
“Not even close,” I shot back, unable to stop the small smirk tugging at my lips.
He chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. “Good, because trust me, I’m not interested in marriage either. Being an idol is hard enough without throwing a wife into the mix.”
I tilted my head, curiosity getting the better of me. “Then why are they pressuring you? I mean, they know how demanding your job is, don’t they?”
Seokjin’s expression softened, though a trace of frustration lingered in his eyes. “Probably for the same reason as your parents.”
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess,” I said, already seeing where this was going.
At the same time, we both said, “Someone to take care of you when you’re older.”
Our voices overlapped perfectly, and the realization hit us simultaneously. I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing, the tension from earlier dissolving into the cool evening air.
“Well, listen to me, kiddo,” I said, pointing at him with mock seriousness.
“Kiddo?” Seokjin echoed, raising both eyebrows in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”
I grinned, loving the chance to tease him. “What, don’t tell me you don’t know? I’m older than you. That’s right, I’m your noona.”
Seokjin blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Wait, what?” He looked at me skeptically. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” I said, leaning back against the fountain with a triumphant smile. “Born and raised a year before you, Jin-ah.”
He stared at me for a moment before shaking his head, a playful scoff escaping his lips. “Great. Just great. Now I’m stuck with a noona who doesn’t even think I’m her type. What a tragedy.”
“Exactly,” I said, smirking. “You better behave, kiddo, or I’ll start acting like a real noona.”
“Yeah, right,” he shot back, but his voice held a warmth that hadn’t been there earlier. “If anyone’s the responsible one here, it’s me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Says the guy who calls himself ‘worldwide handsome.’”
He laughed at that, the sound echoing softly in the garden. It wasn’t forced or polite, it was genuine, and for the first time that evening, I saw a glimpse of the person behind the idol persona.
“So, tell me,” I asked, breaking the comfortable silence between us as we both leaned against the fountain. “How many setups like this have you had so far?”
Jin tilted his head, thinking for a moment before shrugging. “These past few years, not a lot. I’ve been busy, you know. But a couple, maybe, some years back.”
“A couple?” I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes at him. “And you’re getting pissed off about this one?”
He blinked, caught off guard by my reaction. “Why? How many have you had?”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms as I leaned closer to him. “Let’s just say I had a streak once where I was going on a setup date almost every week.”
Jin’s eyes widened, his expression shifting from amusement to genuine shock. “Every week?”
“Yup,” I confirmed, popping the ‘p.’ “And honestly, I could’ve refused, but they always had someone watching over me, like some kind of creepy dating chaperone. Worse, my parents have connections to where I work, so one time, they actually threatened me.”
“Threatened you?” he repeated, his voice laced with concern.
I nodded, sighing. “Yup. They told me to either find a husband or they’d pull strings to make me lose my job. Can you believe that?”
Jin’s jaw dropped slightly, and he stared at me like I’d just revealed the plot twist in a thriller movie. “That’s insane.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I mean, I don’t even know why I’m venting to you about this. You may have had it worse.”
Jin raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a wry smile. “Worse? Oh no, I’m not even going to try competing with that story. Weekly dates and job-threatening parents? You win, hands down.”
“Damn right I do,” I said with a grin, nudging his shoulder lightly.
He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Still, I get it. It’s exhausting when people think they know what’s best for you. Like they’re entitled to decide your life for you.”
I glanced at him, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his tone. There was something comforting about knowing he understood, even if his experiences were worlds apart from mine.
“Yeah,” I said softly, looking down at the rippling water in the fountain. “It’s like they don’t see you for who you are, just what they want you to be.”
“Exactly,” Jin said, his voice steady and calm. “But hey, at least we’ve got this moment to just... not deal with it.”
I looked up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “You’re right. This garden isn’t so bad for an escape.”
“See? I knew you’d like it,” he teased, his playful tone back. “You should thank me for being such a great tour guide.”
“Tour guide?” I scoffed. “You didn’t even know I’d be here! This was just a coincidence!”
“Details,” he said with a shrug, his grin widening.
Jin tilted his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “So, what’s your plan after we go upstairs?”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Honestly? Before I came here, I had this brilliant plan to mess things up with you.”
“Mess things up?” Jin repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” I admitted, folding my arms. “I was going to act like the world’s biggest gold digger or something, make you think I’m insufferable and just boring, so you’d run back to your mom and tell her you didn’t like me. Easy out for both of us.”
Jin’s expression shifted from amusement to something closer to disbelief. “Wow.” was all he said before just bursting into laughter.
I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. “I know, I know. But then I realized something. Our families, especially our moms, are way too close. Even if you wanted to bail, they’d probably just keep scheming to bring us back together. And after that weird encounter we had earlier? I don’t think I could pull it off anymore without them catching on to it being just an act.”
Jin nodded slowly, leaning back against the fountain. “Yeah, our moms are scary like that. They’d probably rope us into some other ‘random’ meeting if we tried to tank this one.”
“Exactly,” I said, exhaling. “So, since my original plan is a bust and we’re actually on decent terms now, I figured we could try something else.”
“Go on,” he said, motioning for me to continue.
I hesitated, then shrugged. “We go back upstairs and act like we can’t stand each other. Play up the whole ‘we’re totally incompatible’ angle. If they think there’s no hope, maybe they’ll finally give up and let us live our lives.”
Jin’s lips twitched, and he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “So you want to go up there and put on a whole performance about how much we hate each other?”
“Pretty much,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
He considered it for a moment, then gave me a sly grin. “Alright. I’m in. But only if I get to be the dramatic one. You know, make it look like you’re completely unbearable.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help laughing. “Fine, as long as you don’t overdo it and make me look like some kind of monster.”
“No promises,” he teased, standing up straighter and brushing off his jacket.
“Think this will work?” I asked, looking at the entrance to the building.
“Worst case, we give them a good show,” Jin said with a shrug. “Best case? We’re free.”
“Alright,” I said, taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders. “Let’s do this.”
As we walked back toward the elevator, side by side, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d found an unexpected ally in this absurd situation. Whatever happened upstairs, at least I wasn’t facing it alone.
The elevator ride back up was filled with quiet anticipation, the kind that buzzed under your skin and made your thoughts race. Jin stood next to me, his hands in his pockets, the faintest trace of a smirk still lingering on his face. I could almost hear him planning out how he’d bring this charade to life.
“You ready for this?” he asked as the elevator dinged, signaling our floor.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, my fingers twitching at my sides.
The doors slid open, and we stepped back into the opulent dining hall, where the chatter of our families filled the space. The sight of the two of us together caught their attention immediately, several heads turned, and I could see our mothers exchanging knowing looks.
Here we go.
Jin was the first to break the silence, his voice carrying just the right amount of exasperation. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said loudly, his tone dripping with disbelief.
I blinked, playing my part. “Excuse me?” I shot back, my voice sharper than usual.
“You’re impossible!” Jin huffed, running a hand through his hair as he turned to the table. “Do you know how hard it is to have a normal conversation with her? She’s constantly nitpicking every little thing I say.”
“Maybe if you had something worthwhile to say, I wouldn’t have to,” I snapped, crossing my arms as I stepped past him toward my seat.
The table went silent, every pair of eyes bouncing between us like they were watching a live soap opera.
Jin scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “See what I mean? This is exactly what I’m talking about! You’re so—so difficult!”
“Difficult?” I repeated, glaring at him. “That’s rich coming from someone who can’t stop talking about himself for five minutes!”
Gasps rippled through the room, and I bit back a grin. This was going better than I’d expected.
“Oh, please,” Jin shot back, stepping closer with a dramatic sigh. “You’re just mad because I didn’t agree with your ridiculous opinions on… what was it again? Oh, right. Everything.”
“Maybe if you had better taste, we wouldn’t be arguing!” I retorted, my voice rising.
Our mothers exchanged panicked glances, clearly trying to figure out how to intervene. Jin’s dad leaned back in his chair, clearly amused, while Jin’s brother and his wife whispered furiously to each other, their eyes wide with shock.
Jin crossed his arms, tilting his head at me. “Better taste? You’ve got some nerve considering you carry a glittery phonecase. Glittery!”
I gasped, clutching my chest as if he’d insulted my entire family lineage. “At least I have a personality! Unlike you, who thinks being ‘Worldwide Handsome’ is a personality trait.”
The room was dead silent now, and I could see several of them trying to hide their laughter behind napkins and wine glasses. Jin’s expression faltered for a split second, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh, but he quickly recovered.
“Alright, that’s it,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “You’re impossible to deal with. I don’t know how anyone could put up with you for more than five minutes.”
“Funny,” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I was thinking the exact same thing about you.”
“Enough!” Jin’s mother suddenly exclaimed, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “What is going on here?”
Jin and I both froze, turning toward her like guilty children caught in the act.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Jin said, throwing his hands up again. “This is never going to work. We’re completely incompatible. Oil and water. Cats and dogs. Whatever you want to call it, it’s not happening.”
I nodded fervently, backing him up. “Exactly! We’re too different. There’s no way this is going to work out.”
Our mothers exchanged another look, their lips pressed into tight lines. Jin’s mom leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “Are you two being serious right now?”
“As serious as I’ve ever been,” Jin replied, his tone flat but confident.
“Absolutely,” I added, crossing my arms again for emphasis.
For a moment, the room was eerily quiet. Then Jin’s dad burst into laughter, slapping his knee as he shook his head. “Well, that’s one way to make your point,” he said, his voice booming with amusement. Our mothers, however, didn’t look nearly as amused. They glanced at each other again, clearly trying to recalibrate their plans.
“Well,” I began, standing up abruptly and smoothing down my dress. “This has been… enlightening. But if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. I have work early tomorrow, and I’m already starting to feel a headache coming on.”
My mom’s eyes snapped to me, and her expression shifted into one of concern and confusion. “Y/N, wait are you sure? You don’t have to leave just yet.”
“It’s fine,” I cut her off, my tone soft but firm. “I really need to get some rest. Please, don’t worry about me. We’ll talk later.”
I didn’t wait for anyone’s response, heading straight for the door, my heart pounding slightly as I quickly exited the dining hall. I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn’t turn back. I just had to get out of that room before I said something I might regret.
Inside the dining room, a tense silence followed my departure. My mom, now visibly flustered, exchanged glances with my dad before speaking up, trying to diffuse the awkward atmosphere.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice tight with embarrassment. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her tonight. This is so unlike her.”
Jin’s mom smiled sympathetically and placed a hand on my mom’s arm. “She’s just under a lot of pressure. We understand. After all, it’s not easy being in the spotlight like that. But don’t worry, we’ll get through this.” She then hugged my mom warmly. They were clearly good friends, and the warmth of their bond seemed to soothe the tension just a little.
Without a word, Jin slowly stood up, grabbing his jacket. He could feel the weight of the night lift as he stepped out into the cool air. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to take from all this, but the combination of confusion and amusement was enough for him to decide it was time to call it a night.
As he slid into his car, he let out a slow breath, trying to process everything that had just happened. But instead of finding clarity, all he felt was a deep, overwhelming sense of curiosity, and maybe even a little intrigue, about the next time he’d have to face Y/N again.
But for now, he was just happy to leave all the nonsense behind him.
After all, the night had only just begun.
***
The next morning, my phone rang, and I groggily reached for it. Seeing my mom’s name on the screen made my stomach twist. I didn’t need to pick it up to know what was coming.
"Y/N, why aren’t you answering your phone? We need to talk about last night," my mom’s voice crackled through, sharp as ever.
I rolled my eyes, rubbing my forehead. "I’m not in the mood, Mom."
“You don’t have the luxury to be ‘not in the mood,’ young lady," she snapped, her voice stern. "You’re going over to Jin’s family’s house today to apologize for your behavior last night. That’s what’s happening."
My heart sank. I was already dreading it. "But Mom, I don’t want to. What if I see him again? He’s a narcissist! I can’t keep doing this!"
I had to keep up the act, pretending that I absolutely hated Jin. The dinner last night had been ridiculous enough, but now my mom was pushing me even further into a corner.
"He doesn’t live there anymore, Y/N," my mom said, her voice softening but still firm. "I already prepared everything you need to give them. Just go, apologize, and make this right. That’s all I’m asking."
I let out a frustrated sigh, biting my lip as I tried to compose myself. This wasn’t fair. But there was no getting out of it. I had to go. For everyone’s sake.
"Fine," I muttered, already dreading the upcoming confrontation. "I’ll go. But I better not see Jin. Not even for a second."
“You don’t have to talk to him if he is there, just apologize, and you’ll be done with it. Please, Y/N, for us. Do this for the family."
I swallowed hard, staring at the ceiling as I silently cursed the situation. This was the last thing I wanted, but I had no choice. "Okay,I’ll go…”
“Good,” she said, sounding relieved. “Just take care of it, and everything will be fine.”
I didn’t respond. I just hung up and buried my face in the pillow for a moment, steeling myself for what was to come.
The day dragged on in a haze, and before I knew it, I was standing outside Jin’s family apartment, clutching a few bags filled with gifts and items that my mom had insisted I bring. It wasn’t just any apology; it had to be wrapped in these ‘carefully chosen’ gifts to smooth over the tension. I wanted to be anywhere else but here, but the pressure from my mom was suffocating, and I couldn’t back out now.
I rang the doorbell once, twice, my patience growing thin as the seconds ticked by. No answer. I let out an exasperated sigh and pressed the doorbell again, pressing my ear to the door this time. I could hear muffled voices from the other side, but no one came. Maybe they hadn’t heard me. Maybe they were busy, I thought.
Then, suddenly, I heard a voice, Jin’s voice, low and strained. It sounded like he was talking to his mom.
“Omma, wait. I am comin… ”
The sound of rushed footsteps startled me. Before I could even react, the door flung open, and there he was, Jin, standing in the doorway, slightly flushed, still damp from his shower, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. His hair was messy, a towel draped loosely over his shoulders, and for a brief second, I felt my heart race.
He blinked, clearly surprised to see me standing there with bags in my arms.
“I told you to wait–Y/N?” he asked, his tone a mix of confusion and annoyance.
I stared at him, flustered, trying not to glance at his exposed chest. "I thought you don’t live here?" I stammered, my voice faltering.
“I don’t, but… ” he began, clearly taken aback, but then his eyes flicked down to the bags I was holding. “Wait, what are you doing here?”
I lifted the bags a bit higher, trying to shield my awkwardness behind them. “What does it look like I’m doing?” I said dryly. “I’m here to drop these off for your family. My mom told me to.”
Jin stared at me for a moment before asking, “Your mom did this?”
I nodded, but just as I was about to say something else, I froze. “Wait, is your mom not home?”
“No, I mean she’s here,” Jin replied, glancing over his shoulder. “She just went out to buy something.”
As if on cue, I heard the faint murmur of Jin’s mom talking on the phone from the hallway. The reality of the situation crashed down on me. Here I was, standing in Jin’s doorway, holding bags full of gifts, while he was half-dressed in front of me. My mind spun with the awkwardness of the situation. Was this really happening?
His eyes flickered to mine, then to the bags in my hands, and then back to my face. There was an awkward pause before I heard the faint sound of his mom's voice getting closer and then, without warning, he panicked.
“Y/N, you have to get inside,” Jin said urgently, his hand grabbing my arm and pulling me gently but firmly into the house. My back hit the door with a soft thud as he stepped in right after me, his body hovering close to mine. The proximity was… a little too much for me to handle.
I felt trapped between the door and Jin, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried not to focus on the fact that his bare chest was mere inches from me. His breath was warm against my skin, and I could feel his presence looming over me.
“Uh—” I stammered, trying to create some space, but he didn’t move. His eyes were locked on the door, seemingly listening for any sign of his mom coming.
“I’ll go change, okay? I’ll be back in a second.”Jin said in a low voice, leaning slightly to the side, his eyes scanning the hallway. He didn’t wait for me to respond before he swiftly rushed toward the stairs.
I stood frozen for a moment, my mind trying to process the entire situation. I was still holding the bags, but my arms were suddenly feeling like they were made of lead. Jin had just pulled me inside the house, while his mom was coming back, and now I was left standing in this hallway, feeling the weight of the awkwardness settling in around me.
Before I had time to process my thoughts, the doorbell rang. The sound snapped me out of my daze, and I froze for a moment, unsure of what to do next. I was still standing awkwardly in the hallway, the bags weighing heavily in my arms, and Jin had just rushed upstairs to change. What had I gotten myself into?
I quickly moved to answer the door, trying to act like everything was fine. When I opened it, I was greeted by none other than Jin’s mom, standing there with a kind smile on her face.
“Oh, Y/N,” she said, her expression shifting slightly as she noticed me standing there alone, holding the bags. “What are you doing here?”
I tried to keep my tone casual, despite the awkward tension that was still thick in the air. “I, uh… came to apologize. For last night.” The words felt almost foreign on my tongue, but I forced myself to say them.
Her expression softened, and I could tell she appreciated my effort. “Oh, that’s very thoughtful of you.” I nodded, stepping aside to let her in, still trying to shake off the unease that had settled in my chest. Jin’s mom gave me a warm smile and gestured toward the living room.
I placed the bags on the table, carefully arranging them to keep everything neat. The warmth of Jin’s mom’s smile was a little comforting, but the awkward tension in the air remained. I tried to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand.
After a few moments, I took a deep breath and spoke up, my voice sounding more confident than I felt. “I just wanted to apologize for last night. I... I didn’t mean to come off as rude. It’s been a lot going on lately and I guess I didn’t handle things well.”
Jin’s mom paused for a moment, looking at me with a thoughtful expression. She nodded, understanding in her eyes. “I can tell, Y/N. It’s not easy, I know. We all have our moments where we act out. And I do appreciate your apology.” She softened her tone, her smile warm and reassuring. “It shows maturity, and I appreciate you coming here today.”
I gave a small, awkward smile in return. Just then, Jin’s mom turned her attention to the hallway, as though she had just realized something. “Jin opened the door for you earlier. Where is he?”
The question caught me off guard, and panic shot through me. I hadn’t even thought about where he had gone after pulling me inside earlier. I tried to keep my voice steady, but it came out a little shaky. “Uh… I don’t know. He said he had to get something from his room. I... I haven’t seen him since.”
She raised an eyebrow but seemed to take it in stride. “Ah, well, that makes sense. Jin doesn’t live here anymore, but he still comes by on his days off to spend time with us. He has his own room upstairs, but he doesn’t use it much now. Let me show you where it is.”
I quickly gave a forced smile, trying to play along with the act I’d been keeping up since dinner. “That’s all good, I’m sure after yesterday me and him both don’t want to see each other. No offense, haha,” I added with a little chuckle, hoping she didn’t notice the underlying tension in my words. Jin’s mom, however, didn’t seem to mind. “Really? After you left, he also said some good things about you,” she said, her tone casual. “I thought you two might have made up already while I was gone.”
I froze, my eyes widening in surprise. What? My mind screamed. That bastard... Why is he ruining my plan?
I tried not to show my shock on the outside, but inside, I was boiling. “Huh, really?” I managed, my voice thick with disbelief. “I guess he’s... full of surprises.”
I didn’t know what to make of that. Why would Jin say good things about me after everything that happened? And why was his mom casually mentioning it now? Things are just not adding up.
“Anyway,” she continued, oblivious to my inner turmoil, “follow me, I’ll show you where his room is.” She led me to the stairs and gestured for me to follow. “Just go up, and his room is at the end of the hall. I’ll be downstairs preparing dessert. Please make yourself comfortable and ask him to join us for some too.” she said, her voice warm as she smiled at me before turning to head back downstairs.
I nodded quickly, feeling a little relieved that I wouldn’t have to face her for a moment. I made my way up the stairs, my heart racing as I approached the door to Jin’s room. I hesitated for a second before I reached out and knocked softly.
Knock, knock, knock.
I waited, holding my breath, but there was no immediate answer. I could hear faint rustling from inside, and I briefly wondered if he was changing. After a moment, the door creaked open, and there he was, now fully dressed in casual clothes, his hair still slightly damp from his earlier shower.
He blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly when he saw me standing there, holding the bags. "You really are persistent," he muttered, half-smiling, but there was an edge to his voice.
I let out a deep breath. "Look, your mom said she's making dessert for us. She told me to get you downstairs. Let's just go, get this over with, and then we don't have to see each other ever again. Don't worry." I glanced at him, trying to hide the unease in my voice. "And, uh, sorry for earlier, by the way."
I stepped in a little further into the room, and Jin sat down at the corner of his bed, looking at me with an unreadable expression.
"Sorry about what?" he asked, his tone dry.
I rolled my eyes, feeling the frustration build. Forget it, Y/N. Just get this done. "Anyway, just come downstairs, okay?"
Before I could turn to leave, I remembered what Jin’s mom had said earlier. "By the way, what did you say to your mom about me yesterday?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
Jin raised an eyebrow. “About you? Ah, she asked what happened, and I just told her that you’re stubborn, and we’re opposites.But… you seem like a good person, I guess.”
I blinked, surprised. "Am I supposed to be flattered? That's an insult and a compliment all in one."
He shrugged, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Take it as you want.”
I crossed my arms, not sure whether to laugh or just walk out. "Why would you… we’re supposed to be sworn enemies, remember?" I paused, narrowing my eyes at him.”Do you actually want to get married if you’re telling her good stuff about me? Don’t make their hopes go up for nothing."
Jin’s gaze shifted to the side for a moment, as if weighing his words. “What if we do it?” he said suddenly, his tone more serious.
“What?” I blinked in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘do it’?”
Jin looked at me, his eyes a little more intense. “What if we just play along with their game, get married, and they leave us alone? No more set-up dates, no more of this ridiculous pressure. I’m going on tour soon, so we could pretend to go on some dates before I leave. When I am back, I could propose, and then, with all the activities, we wouldn't see each other much anyway. I think it’s a smart way out."
For a moment, I just stared at him, trying to process what he was suggesting. “Wait, you're serious?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. “You want us to just pretend to get married to get our families off our backs? Play their game?”
Jin nodded slowly, as if the idea had been running through his mind for a while. “Yeah. We keep up the act, let them think we’re in this whole thing, and then just... go our separate ways. It’s foolproof.”
I stood there in stunned silence, my mind racing. Is he really proposing this? It seemed crazy, but there was a part of me that couldn't help but think it might just work.
“And what happens after?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “We can try it out for two years. The first year, I’ll be really busy with album promotions either way. In the second year, we can fake it. We’ll act like we’re getting on bad terms, then, boom, divorce. We’ll act heartbroken about it, say we couldn’t make it work, and make it clear we don’t see ourselves marrying anyone else for a long time.”
I stood there, processing what Jin had said, my mind swirling. Could this actually work? The pressure from our families, the constant set-up dates, the expectations, they were exhausting. Maybe going along with this charade would give us both the escape we needed. For a moment, I even considered it. It seemed like a perfect solution, a way to make everything stop without truly having to change our lives too much.
But then, something in me snapped back to reality. I’d been handling my family’s pressure for years. I had always managed to avoid their matchmaking attempts, staying strong and refusing to give in. I didn’t need to pretend to marry someone to get them off my back. I could handle this on my own. After all, I had for so long.
Surprisingly, I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. “No,” I said aloud, surprising even myself with the firmness in my voice. “I think I can manage them. I’ve done it for years. They’ll get the hint eventually. I don’t need this...game.”
With that, I turned, surprising myself even more as I walked toward the door and left the room, leaving Jin behind, still sitting on his bed, probably trying to figure out what just happened.
When I came downstairs, I noticed Jin’s mom sitting at the table with a warm smile, sipping tea, and gesturing toward the desserts she had laid out. She’d clearly put some effort into it. The tension was still there, but I had to focus on keeping it together. It felt a bit like an interrogation at first, with her carefully watching me. My heart was still racing from the conversation upstairs, but I tried to remain composed.
Jin walked in a few moments later, looking more relaxed than I expected. He slid into the seat next to me, giving me a quick nod of acknowledgment. I couldn’t help but glance at him briefly, he was acting like nothing had happened.
“You know, I must say… this dessert looks almost as good as I do.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, despite myself. His mom just shook her head, already used to his antics.
“Really, Jin?” she said, rolling her eyes with a smirk. Jin leaned back in his chair with a dramatic sigh, striking a pose. “I mean, someone’s got to remind the world. You’re welcome,” he said with a wink, clearly pleased with himself.
“Uh-huh, sure,” I chimed in, playing along. “I’m sure everyone’s just dying to hear that.”
His mom laughed, clearly entertained by his confidence. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. He’s been like this since he was little. Always thinking he’s the center of attention.”
“Can you blame me?” Jin continued, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I mean, I am a world-famous idol now. People would probably faint if they saw me walking down the street.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to hold back a smile. “Is that so? I’m sure people would be more likely to trip over themselves trying to get away from you.”
“Hey!” Jin said with a mock glare. “Watch it. I’m a handsome man, don’t forget that.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, not backing down. “Right, right. A handsome man, who’s also got a big ego apparently.”
Jin grinned even wider, clearly enjoying the teasing. “I prefer to call it ‘confidence.’ It’s a key ingredient to my success,” he said with a wink.
His mom chuckled, shaking her head at both of us. “I’m surprised you two aren’t getting along. You’re just as bad as he is, Y/N.”
I laughed, feeling more at ease now. “Hey, I’m just following his lead. He makes it too easy to tease.”
Jin smirked, leaning back in his chair like he was victorious. “See? I’m just that charming. Everyone wants a piece of me.”
His mom raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure ‘charming’ is the word I’d use, but I’ll let you have it.” The lighthearted atmosphere remained for a moment longer before she gestured toward the dessert again, her tone casual. “Now, why don’t you both have a little dessert? I’m sure you’ll enjoy it after all the talk.”
Jin grabbed a small plate and grinned at me. “You hear that? She’s trying to bribe us with dessert. How could we resist?”
I rolled my eyes with a laugh. After a few more playful jabs between Jin and his mom about his hectic idol schedule and his exaggerated tales of his “worldwide fame”, I began to realize just how much time had passed. I glanced at my watch, noticing the hour. “Well, I guess I should be going,” I said, standing up from my chair. “This took longer than I thought. I should let you both get back to your day.”
Jin's mom looked up from her cup of tea, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “Already? I understand, but you’re always welcome here, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.”
I smiled at her warmth, feeling a sense of appreciation. “Thank you, I really enjoyed the dessert. I’ll make sure to stop by when I can, but... well, I’m not sure when that’ll be.”
Jin's mom then gave a gentle push toward Jin. “Come on, Jin, walk Y/N to her car.”
Jin hesitated for a moment, a slight frown crossing his face, clearly not thrilled with the idea. But after a beat, he sighed and stood up. “Fine, fine. Let’s go.” He muttered, but there was no denying the small hint of reluctance in his voice.
We walked to the elevator in silence, neither of us quite sure what to say next. The soft ding of the elevator reaching our floor felt louder than usual, and we both stepped in without another word.
The elevator ride felt long, as if we were both lost in our own thoughts. Once the doors opened and we made our way to the parking lot, I took a deep breath, ready to break the silence.
“Well, that’s done, then,” I said, my voice sounding a little more casual than I felt. “It was fun, somehow, for what it lasted. Good luck on your career, Jin. I hope your parents don’t nag you as much as mine do, and I hope we don’t have to cross paths again.”
Jin looked at me, his eyes widening for a second, clearly taken aback by my words. I hadn’t expected to see that look on his face. But then, his features softened, and he spoke, his voice almost a little quieter than usual.
“Nice meeting you too, Noona,” he said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there for a moment, feeling the weight of his words. I watched as he disappeared into the dark, realizing just how much that short, unexpected connection had left its mark.
***
Four weeks later, and life had somewhat returned to normal for me after everything that had happened. I kept myself busy with work, pushing the strange events with Jin to the back of my mind. But it seemed like the universe had other plans. Every now and then, I’d catch a glimpse of Jin’s face in a commercial or on a billboard as I walked through the city. Even in my ramen, there he was, staring back at me with that same confident smile.
It was a bit surreal, to be honest. I’d spent so much time thinking about the whole fake marriage idea, trying to convince myself that I’d made the right decision to walk away from it. I didn’t need some fake relationship to escape the matchmaking pressure from my family. I had dealt with it for years on my own, and I could keep handling it.
But then, one evening, after a long and exhausting day at work, I decided to visit my parents. I needed to get my mind off things for a while. As soon as I stepped into their house, my mom greeted me with a smile, but I could tell she was eager to tell me something.
"Y/N, you’ve been invited to Jin’s family again," she said, setting the table. Her tone was casual, but I could feel my heart drop.
"What? Again?" I asked, blinking in confusion. I didn’t even know how to react. "Is this another one of those matchmaking attempts? Because, seriously, I can’t deal with that again."
Mom just laughed softly, clearly not understanding the weight of what she was saying. "No dear, this time it’s just a casual dinner. I need to catch up with Jin’s mother, you know we are quite close friends."
I could feel the tension build up in my chest. "So I am guessing Jin would probably be there too?" I asked, my voice almost a little too sharp. "Seriously mother? After what happened last time, you guys are trying to set me up with him again?"
My mom shook her head. "Oh, my dear, haven’t you seen the news? The boy’s in a relationship now. There were some pictures leaked yesterday of him with a girl. And the company hasn’t confirmed anything yet, but I doubt he’ll be there."
My chest tightened as I stared at my mom, her words echoing in my head. Jin? In a relationship? It didn’t make sense. Just weeks ago, he was throwing out ideas about a fake marriage. And now, he was casually strolling around with someone else?
I couldn’t stop myself. I grabbed my phone, typing his name into the search bar. Almost immediately, the headlines popped up:
“BTS’s Jin Spotted with Mystery Girl—Relationship Rumors Fly!” “Who’s the Lucky Lady? Jin Seen Strolling Late at Night”
I clicked on one of the articles, scrolling down to see the photos everyone was talking about. The pictures weren’t even clear, just Jin’s back and side profile. He was wearing a mask and a hoodie, walking on a quiet street next to a woman who was also masked and dressed casually. They weren’t even holding hands, but they were standing close enough for the rumors to swirl.
I frowned, my brows knitting together. Seriously? This was what everyone was losing their minds over? They could’ve just been two people heading home or running errands. There was no way to tell if it was even a date.
But the headlines and captions painted a different story, full of speculation and drama:
“Are the two close? Sources suggest late-night meetups.” “Fans question if Jin has been hiding a secret relationship.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, putting my phone down on the table. “Mom, these articles aren’t even serious. Look at this.” I turned the phone to her, showing her the blurry pictures. “You can’t even tell what’s happening. They’re just walking near each other. This could be anyone.”
She glanced at the screen and shrugged. “Well, dear, the internet doesn’t need much to start rumors. But, if it’s true, it’s good for him. He deserves to be happy, don’t you think?”
I leaned back in my chair, my mind swirling. “Yeah, sure,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.
But a strange feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Was I annoyed? Confused? Or was it just the absurdity of seeing his face everywhere, even now?
Whatever it was, I shook it off, forcing myself to focus on the conversation. “So... when is this dinner you mentioned?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
***
I arrived at Jin’s family’s house a bit later than planned, my workday having stretched longer than I anticipated. As I parked my car, I took a deep breath. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure why I was here. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the fact that my parents had insisted it was just a friendly dinner. But deep down, a part of me wanted to know if he was here and more importantly, if she was.
I stepped into the living room, spotting my parents sitting with Jin’s mom. Everyone turned to look at me, and I quickly plastered on a polite smile.
“Ah, Y/N! There you are!” Jin’s mom exclaimed warmly, gesturing for me to come in.
As I walked further into the room, my gaze landed on him. Jin was seated at the dining table, casually leaning back in his chair. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed as relaxed as ever. And right next to him was a girl, chatting animatedly with someone across the table.
My stomach twisted. Of course. So this was her, the girl who had captured his attention so quickly. It was almost laughable. He’d tried to convince me of his “fake marriage” plan, only to turn around and find someone new within weeks.
I forced a smile, my mind racing as I made my way to an empty chair, conveniently across the table from Jin and his girlfriend. Great. Perfect. Just where I wanted to be.
‘’Sorry I’m late,” I said, slipping into the seat. “Work ran long.”
My mom leaned over, smiling knowingly. “We were just talking about how nice it is for families to gather like this. It’s been too long.”
I nodded politely, but my attention kept slipping to Jin and the girl next to him. She was laughing softly at something his mom had said, and Jin, of course, looked completely unfazed, like he wasn’t the center of my inner storm.
I kept my expression neutral, but my thoughts were far less composed. A player, huh? He really went all in, didn’t he? First, he asks me to fake marry him, and now he’s out here acting like the perfect boyfriend?
Curiosity got the better of me. My gaze flicked toward her, trying to figure out what it was about her that had drawn him in so quickly. She’s sweet, I’ll give her that, I thought begrudgingly. And innocent-looking too. Maybe that’s his type?
“Y/N, are you okay? You’re quiet tonight,” Jin’s mom asked, her kind tone breaking my inner spiral.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I said quickly, plastering on a smile. “Just tired from work, that’s all.”
I kept my head down for most of the dinner, avoiding Jin’s gaze entirely. I didn’t trust myself to look at him without the risk of either glaring or rolling my eyes. He didn’t try to catch my attention, either, but I could feel his presence like an annoying weight pressing on me.
“By the way,” my mom said, looking over at Jin’s mom, “I saw some of those articles online about Jin. Are they as wild as they seem?”
Jin’s mom waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, that nonsense? No, no, it’s all a misunderstanding. That’s his cousin, Byul,” she explained, gesturing to the girl sitting beside Jin. “She’s just moved here to start university soon and doesn’t know her way around Seoul yet. Jin was simply helping her get some groceries. You know how the media loves to create drama where there isn’t any.”
I froze, my fork hovering over my plate. Wait... cousin?
Jin’s cousin turned to my parents with a polite smile. “I’m so sorry for the confusion. I had no idea people would make such a fuss. Jin-oppa was just being kind.”
I felt a strange mix of relief and irritation bubbling inside me. Relief that Jin wasn’t dating her, and irritation at how easily I’d fallen for the rumors.
Still, I didn’t dare look at him. Instead, I kept my focus on my plate, determined to get through this dinner without giving him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’d gotten under my skin.
Why had I even come here? Curiosity? Spite? A desperate need to confirm what Jin had done after his fake proposal? Whatever it was, it had backfired spectacularly. So what if he had moved on quickly? He could date whoever he wanted. It wasn’t like we were ever anything to each other.
The thought sent a pang of irritation through me. I pushed my chair back, plastering on a polite smile. “Excuse me, I just need to use the bathroom,” I said, my voice a little too composed.
I didn’t head for the bathroom, though. That would’ve been too close, too confining. Instead, I made my way toward the balcony. The cool air hit me as I stepped outside, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
From here, I could still see the garden below. The faint glow of the lights illuminated the paths, and I imagined myself walking down there, disappearing into the calm, away from this entire night. But that would take time, more time than I wanted to spend explaining myself if anyone noticed I was gone too long. Leaning on the balcony railing, I stared out at the garden, the soft rustling of the leaves below offering a strange kind of solace. I could see why Jin’s family loved this place. It was beautiful, serene. Not at all like the chaos in my head. I let my hands grip the railing, frustration bubbling to the surface. Was I hoping to catch him in the act? To confirm he was some player who could propose fake marriages and then date someone else without a second thought?
The worst part was, I wasn’t even mad at Jin. I was mad at myself for caring. For letting curiosity drag me back into this situation. For giving him even an ounce of my attention after I’d made it clear I wanted nothing to do with him.
“Stupid,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.
The sound of laughter drifted up from the dining room, reminding me of the lively conversation I’d left behind. For a moment, I considered just staying here on the balcony until it was over. But no, I’d have to go back eventually.nWith a resigned sigh, I leaned back from the railing, my mind still racing. How was I going to get through the rest of this evening without losing my sanity?
The sound of footsteps on the balcony tiles made me freeze. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Of course, Jin wouldn’t just let me have this moment alone.
“Still hiding?” Jin’s familiar voice cut through the quiet, laced with that teasing tone I’d come to expect. I sighed without turning around. “If you’ve come to make jokes about the situation, save it. I’m not in the mood.”
He stepped onto the balcony, his presence annoyingly comfortable despite the situation. “Joke? Me? Never.”
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He had his hands in his pockets, leaning slightly against the doorframe, looking far too relaxed for someone who’d clearly come to stir the pot.
“What do you want, Jin?” I asked flatly.
He shrugged, stepping closer. “I was just curious. You’ve been gone a while. Thought you might’ve gotten lost on your way to the bathroom.”
I rolled my eyes. “Funny.”
Jin smirked, leaning casually against the railing. “You know, I thought you said goodbye, and we’d never have to see each other again. Yet here you are, showing up uninvited to my family dinner. How does that work?”
I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. “Uninvited? Last I checked, my parents were invited, and I came as a courtesy. Believe me, being here wasn’t at the top of my to-do list.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” he said, his grin widening. “You came all the way here, even showed up late for dramatic effect. Makes me wonder if you just couldn’t resist the chance to see me again.”
I let out an incredulous laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, please. If anything, I was curious to see what kind of girl you managed to win over in record time. Imagine my surprise when it turns out to be your cousin.”
Jin chuckled, looking genuinely amused. “Ah, so you admit it, you were curious about me. That explains the sulking out here. Surprised I’m not off the market after all?”
“Surprised?” I repeated, my voice sharp. “Hardly. But I’ll admit, I did wonder how you managed to pull that off. World Wide Handsome gets rejected after a fake marriage proposal, yet still ends up with someone new within a month. Quite the record that would be, wouldn’t it?”
He put a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “Wow, Y/N, you really have a way with compliments. I’m starting to think you secretly enjoy my company.”
I scoffed, turning back toward the view. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re predictable,” he shot back, stepping a little closer. “Always so quick to assume the worst of me. Admit it, you’ve been dying to know if the rumors were true.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, Jin. I wasn’t sitting around obsessing over your love life. Unlike you, I have better things to do.”
He smirked, leaning slightly closer. “Then why talk about it? Why not let the rumors stay rumors?”
I sighed, already regretting indulging him. “Fine, I was curious. Happy now? But only because it’s ridiculous your company hasn’t clarified that she’s your cousin. What’s the hold-up?”
His expression shifted slightly, his grin softening. “It’s a bit complicated. Confirming it would mean revealing her identity, and she’s not exactly comfortable with that. It would draw too much attention to her.”
I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “Oh. So, what are you going to do now?”
Jin shrugged, his nonchalant facade slipping a bit. “Honestly? I don’t know. My company’s weighing their options, but none of them feel right. Every solution comes with a risk. And, well, I’d rather not drag her into any more of this.”
I hesitated, chewing on my bottom lip as an idea formed in my head. “Maybe I could... help you.”
His eyes widened slightly, genuine surprise flickering across his face. “Huh? You said no to the marriage plan, and now you’re offering to help?”
“Fine then,” I said, crossing my arms and staring him down. “Let me spell it out for you. Let’s get married.”
Jin blinked, clearly stunned. “What?”
“I’ll be the girl in the photos. We can stage some dates before your tour, and your cousin’s identity stays secret, covered by mine. Simple.”
“Huh, but... why the change of heart?” he asked, his voice quieter now, as if he were trying to figure me out. “You were so against it before.”
I shrugged, looking back toward the city lights. “Let’s just say I’ve been thinking. You’re leaving soon, my blind dates are piling up, and honestly? I’m tired of dodging them or being a bitch to random guys I don’t even care about. Might as well go with the flow for a while.”
His lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but for once, he seemed at a loss for words.
“So, what’s it going to be?” I asked, my tone as casual as I could manage. “Do you want my help or not?”
Jin studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow smile crept onto his face, the kind that made it impossible to tell whether he was thrilled, amused, or scheming.
“Well,” he said, his voice teasing but with a serious undertone, “I guess I’d be a fool to say no to an offer like that. Let’s do it, noona.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Good. Don’t make me regret this.”
“You won’t,” Jin said, his voice holding a hint of sincerity. “And who knows? This might actually be fun.”
I gave him a skeptical look, already questioning my life choices. “Yeah, sure. Fun. Let’s go with that.”
***
When Jin and I walked back to the table, I could practically feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on us. It wasn’t like we’d been gone that long, just enough time to quickly set a whole marriage ... arrangement, but being gone together had clearly sparked some curiosity.
Jin, of course, acted like it was no big deal, sliding back into his chair. I followed suit, keeping my eyes down as I sat and busied myself with my water glass, praying no one would ask questions.
"So," my mom started, tone playful as she looked between us. "Did you two get lost on the way back?"
"Hardly," Jin answered smoothly, picking up his chopsticks. "Y/N just wanted to admire the view a bit longer. Can’t blame her, it’s a beautiful evening."
I shot him a sharp look, but he only smirked, clearly enjoying himself.
"Admiring the view, huh?" My dad chuckled, raising a brow.
"Ah, leave them be," Jin’s dad added with a grin. "Young people need time to themselves. Isn’t that right, Jin?"
"Of course," Jin said, as if this was all perfectly normal. "Besides, it turns out Y/N is great company after all."
I nearly choked on my drink. Great company?
"Great company, huh?" Jin’s mom chimed in, her eyes twinkling.
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of small talk and laughter. Our families traded stories, Jin and I taking turns deflecting any comments that veered too close to the idea of us.
At one point, my dad started recounting an embarrassing childhood memory, and I could feel Jin’s eyes on me the entire time, as if memorizing every detail for future teasing.
"And that’s how she ended up stuck in the tree for two hours," my dad finished with a hearty laugh.
I groaned, sinking lower in my seat. "You didn’t have to tell that story, Dad."
"But it’s a good one," Jin said, clearly amused. "I’ll keep it in mind next time we’re near any trees."
I glared at him, but the smirk on his face made it clear he wasn’t the least bit sorry.
As the plates were cleared and everyone began saying their goodbyes, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and dread. The evening was finally over, but now the real challenge lay ahead, our so-called fake marriage plan.
As we stood by the door, Jin leaned in just enough for me to hear.
"Don’t forget," he said, his tone low and teasing. "We’re meeting at 3 p.m. on Saturday to discuss this further. Try not to be late."
"I won’t," I replied, forcing a smile.
He grinned, stepping back.
***
When I walked into the café, Jin was already there, scrolling on his phone. He was wearing a hat pulled low over his hair and a mask, the universal idol uniform for staying “low profile.” On the table sat two iced Americanos. He glanced up when the door chimed and waved lazily, his hand barely lifting from the table.
"You’re late," he said as I reached the table, his tone teasing. "How dare you make Jin wait?"
"Sorry, I don’t have a private chauffeur at my back to call," I shot back, slipping into the chair across from him.
"Excuses, excuses," he replied, sliding the second Americano toward me. "You’re lucky I’m a generous man."
I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of the drink. "And you’re lucky I don’t have another option."
The banter died down quickly, replaced by an awkward silence as we both sipped our drinks. I could feel the weight of what we were about to discuss hanging between us like an invisible curtain. Someone had to rip it down, and apparently, that someone was me.
"So," I said, setting my cup down. "Let’s talk about the terms of this... arrangement."
Jin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Arrangement? You make it sound like a business deal."
"Isn’t it?" I shot back. "You need to fix your image after the... situation with your cousin. And I need to get my parents off my back about blind dates. We both get something out of this."
He tilted his head thoughtfully, then gestured for me to continue.
"Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking," I began, leaning forward. "We need to make it public enough to shut people up but private enough to protect our personal lives. That means no pictures of my face, no interviews about our ‘relationship,’ and definitely no fake social media posts."
Jin nodded slowly, his lips twitching like he was holding back a smile. "Go on."
"We can appear together a few times at family events or somewhere low-key where the media can ‘accidentally’ spot us," I continued. "But I’m not about to start living my life under a microscope just because you had a PR nightmare."
His eyes sparkled with amusement, but he didn’t interrupt.
"And," I added, "if anyone asks, the story is simple: we’ve known each other through our parents, reconnected recently, and decided to give it a shot. No elaborate backstory, no unnecessary details."
"Sounds reasonable," Jin said, nodding. "But what about public appearances outside of family events? You know the media’s going to dig for proof."
"I thought about that," I admitted. "If we’re out somewhere public, we stick to places you can control, cafés like this one, maybe a charity event or two. But I won’t let my face show. Sunglasses, hats, or whatever else I need to stay anonymous."
"And if the media catches on anyway?" he asked, his tone curious rather than skeptical.
"Then we deal with it together," I said firmly. "But on my terms. My privacy isn’t negotiable."
And then for a moment, Jin just stared at me, his gaze unreadable. It was the kind of look that made you feel like you were being assessed, like he was trying to decide whether to take you seriously or turn this into another joke.
Finally, he leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips tugging upward into a slow, deliberate grin.
"You’ve really thought this through," he said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.
"Someone has to," I replied, fiddling with the straw of my drink.
Jin took a long sip of his Americano, his eyes never leaving mine. When he set the cup back down, he tilted his head slightly, as if still processing what I’d said.
"Okay," he said finally, his voice calm and steady. "I agree with your terms. We’ll do it your way."
"Seriously?" I asked, not expecting him to cave so easily.
"Why not?" he said with a shrug. "You’re right, I need this arrangement to work as much as you do. And honestly..." He leaned forward, his grin turning teasing. "I’m kind of impressed. I didn’t expect you to be so... thorough."
"Thorough," I repeated dryly.
"It’s a compliment," he insisted, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "You’re smart, and you’ve clearly thought this through. I’m just saying, you might make a better business partner than some people I actually work with."
"Great," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Glad I’m fake-wife material and business savvy."
Jin chuckled, clearly entertained by my sarcasm. "Don’t sell yourself short. This could be the start of something... memorable."
"Memorable for all the wrong reasons," I muttered, shaking my head.
He smirked, tapping his fingers against the edge of his cup. "Then let’s make it memorable for the right reasons instead."
Before I could respond, he stood up, stretching slightly. "I’ll send you the details for our first ‘public appearance.’ I’ll make sure it’s low-key, so you don’t have to worry about being front-page news. Yet."
I frowned. "Yet?"
"Come on," he teased, pulling his hat lower as he prepared to leave. "You’re about to become Mrs. Worldwide Handsome. You didn’t think we’d stay low-key forever, did you?"
I opened my mouth to retort, but he was already waving as he headed for the door, his laughter trailing behind him.
I slumped back in my chair, staring at the two empty cups on the table.
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
***
Two days had passed since I met Jin at the café, and honestly, I still wasn’t sure what to make of the whole situation. He’d texted me a few times, but there was something about the silence between us that made it feel... uncertain. I didn’t know where things were headed, but something told me it wasn’t going to be simple.
That morning, I found myself at work, trying to focus on my tasks and block out everything else. The office was relatively quiet, and I was grateful for the peace. I wasn’t sure how to explain it, but being back in Korea after spending so many years in America felt... off. It wasn’t that I didn’t love this country, but it was strange. Everything felt new again, even though it was familiar. Maybe that’s why I’d been thinking so much about leaving. Maybe I wasn’t ready to settle yet. Just as I was staring at my computer screen, trying to push my thoughts aside, my phone buzzed. It was my mom.
“Y/N, honey, are you coming over this weekend? I have a new blind date lined up for you.”
I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Mom, please. No more blind dates.”
There was a short pause on the other end before she replied, “But why not? You haven’t been on one in ages. He’s a nice guy, from a good family.”
I bit my lip, trying to think of a way to end the conversation without causing too much of a scene. “I’m fine, Mom. Trust me, no need. I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?” she pressed. “It’s not good to be so closed off, Y/N.”
“I’ll be fine. You’ll see.” I didn’t feel like arguing anymore, so I ended the conversation before she could press further.
I stared at my phone for a moment before it buzzed again. This time it was a message from WORLDWIDE UGLY... I chuckled at the nickname I’d given Jin on my phone.
“Meet me tomorrow at 3 p.m. Here's the address . Don’t be late.”
Following that the other text was a link with the location he mentioned. I couldn't help but smile at the abruptness of his text. He always had a way of keeping things mysterious. No explanation, no details, just a time and place. It was probably some random spot for our... date, but I guess I would find out tomorrow.
I quickly typed a response, though I wasn’t sure what to say. Part of me wanted to be sarcastic, but another part of me wanted to go along with it, keep things light.
"Noted. I’ll be there... on time."
I hit send before second-guessing myself, setting my phone aside as I tried to get back to work. But the thought of the next day loomed over me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this whole situation was about to get a lot more complicated.
***
The next day, I arrived at the location Jin had sent. It was an unusual spot, quiet, with a serene view of the water and a couple of old wooden docks that stretched out into a peaceful lake. It looked... like a fishing spot, though I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Fishing for a first date? Honestly, I didn’t know what kind of weird, romantic stunt he was pulling, but here I was. I’d agreed to show up, and I was on time, for once.
I scanned the area and spotted him immediately. Jin stood there by the edge of the water, wearing a cap and casual clothes, a fishing rod in his hand, looking completely in his element. I felt a little out of place in my outfit, but then again, he looked like he was dressed for the part, and I had no idea how this was supposed to work. Was I going to have to fish too?
I walked over to him, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. As I got closer, I raised an eyebrow and couldn’t help myself.
“We’re fishing??” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “So romantic.”
Jin looked at me and smirked, his usual confidence shining through. “What’s wrong? You don’t find it romantic?” he teased, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to go fishing on a date.
I crossed my arms, trying to hold back a smile. "It’s not what I expected, that’s for sure."
He grinned, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. "Well, now that you’re here, you might as well give it a try."
I rolled my eyes, but I was already curious. What was he really planning?
Jin took a deep breath, looking out at the water for a moment before turning back to me. “I do this when I need to get away from everything,” he explained casually, like it was no big deal. “Fishing’s been a hobby of mine for a long time. Helps me clear my head.”
I raised an eyebrow, still trying to process the oddness of it all. Fishing was... relaxing, I guessed? But it was hard to imagine the busy idol life meshing with something so peaceful.
“You’re serious?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around it. “Fishing, as a hobby?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I know it’s not the most exciting thing for some people, but it works for me. And my fans—ARMY—actually know about it. If I show up with someone again and there’s any hint of... well, anything between us, the rumors will start flying.”
I frowned, catching onto what he meant. “You mean, if they see you with me, they’ll think we’re involved because of the whole... cousin accident thing.”
Jin nodded, his expression turning a bit more serious. “Exactly. They already think there’s something more going on there. If we’re spotted, they’ll make the connection, and that’s just more fuel for the fire. I figured if we’re going to play along with the idea of us being... ‘together,’ then it should be on my terms, somewhere neutral.” I felt a strange mix of surprise and discomfort at his honesty. He really had thought this through.
“So, this whole ‘fishing date’ thing is your way of controlling the narrative?” I asked, half amused, half impressed.
He shrugged, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Pretty much. And I thought you might like the idea of something more... private. No crowds, not too many people . Just... us and the water.”
I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On one hand, it made sense, he was trying to protect both of us from unwanted attention. But on the other hand... this was still all so strange.
“Well,” I said, trying to keep my tone light, “at least you’re honest about it. Guess I’ll give this fishing thing a try.”
I sat down next to Jin, my eyes scanning the empty stretch of the fishing spot. It was so quiet, almost eerily so. I couldn’t see anyone nearby, no photographers, no fans lurking in the distance.
“So,” I started, turning to him with a slight smirk. “How will the paparazzi find us? There’s no one here.”
Jin’s lips curled up into a knowing smile as he leaned back slightly, his gaze still fixed on the water. “That’s what you think.”
I furrowed my brow, not entirely sure what he meant. “What do you mean?”
He glanced at me, his expression playful but with a hint of seriousness. “They don’t need to be physically here. The moment they get wind of me being at a spot like this, they’ll set up shop. Someone will post it online, a fan will notice me, and boom, the rumors will start.”
I let out a soft laugh, still trying to wrap my mind around how quickly things could escalate. “It’s that easy, huh? A fan spots you fishing and suddenly we’re in the middle of a scandal.”
“Pretty much,” he said, with a bit of a shrug. “That’s why I’m being careful. I don’t want things getting out of hand, especially with what happened with the cousin situation.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic, though I was still processing everything. It felt like I was living in some sort of alternate reality, where every simple action was potentially a headline.
“Well, I guess I should thank you for keeping me in the loop about all of this,” I said, feeling a little awkward but trying to make light of it.
Jin gave a quick nod. “You’re welcome. I don’t want you to get caught up in anything you don’t want to be part of. And besides, we’re in this together now, right?”
I nodded slowly, unsure if he was trying to be reassuring or just being his usual, laid-back self. “Right. Together... Fishing and all.”
He chuckled at my tone. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it. It’s actually kind of relaxing, once you get the hang of it.”
I raised an eyebrow, glancing at the rod in my hands. “Relaxing, huh? Let’s see if I can manage not to accidentally hook myself first.”
I gave the rod a few swings, each time being worse than the last.
“Okay, yeah, this isn’t going well,” I muttered under my breath.
Jin turned to me with an amused smile, clearly trying to hide his laughter. “You’re definitely not a natural,” he teased gently.
I rolled my eyes, frustrated. “Thanks for the encouragement.”
He stood up from his spot on the rocks and walked over to me, his tone softer now. “Alright, let me help you.”
He took the rod from my hands and stood behind me, positioning himself just close enough that I could feel his presence but not too close to make it awkward. His hands gently wrapped around mine, guiding me as he positioned the rod correctly.
“Hold it like this,” he instructed, his breath warm against my ear. “You need to keep a steady grip, but don’t tense up. Relax your hands.”
I tried to focus on his words, but it was hard not to be distracted by the proximity. His hand was on top of mine, guiding it carefully, and I couldn’t help but notice how gentle yet firm his touch was.
“Alright, now cast it out. Gently,” he said, his voice calm.
With his help, I cast the line out into the water. This time, it didn’t get tangled, and I managed to get it to a decent distance.
“Not bad,” Jin said with a satisfied grin. “You’re getting the hang of it.”
I couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief. “Thank God. I was about to give up and throw the rod in the lake.”
He laughed lightly. “I don’t think I’d let you do that.”
We stood there for a moment, both watching the line as it drifted with the current. It felt... surprisingly peaceful. I could hear the faint sound of birds in the distance and the rustle of leaves in the wind, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was just... calming.
“See? It’s not so bad,” Jin said, his eyes flicking over to me. “You might actually start liking this.”
“Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “But I’m still not sure it’s my idea of a ‘first date.’”
Jin smiled, his gaze softening. “Maybe not, but I think it’s a good way to get to know each other... without distractions.”
I met his gaze, unsure of what to say. For the first time since we’d started this whole weird arrangement, I actually felt a little less on edge.
We continued fishing in silence for a while longer, the sun beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in a warm golden light. There was a sense of quiet companionship between us, and though the day had started out awkward, it somehow felt... comfortable.
I was still trying to get the hang of it when I felt a strong tug on the line. My eyes widened, and I instinctively gripped the rod tighter.
“I think I got something!” I said, excitement building in my chest.
Jin looked over at me, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “There you go. You’re doing it!”
The rod bent dangerously as whatever I’d hooked put up a serious fight. My arms strained with the effort of keeping the line steady, and I could feel the tension building as I tried to reel it in. But no matter how much I pulled, it didn’t seem to give.
"Come on, you've got this," Jin encouraged, standing a little closer, his voice low and steady. "Just pull harder. Be stronger."
I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the strain in my arms and focus on the task. With all my might, I pulled again. The fish fought back, jerking in the water, but I was determined not to let it get away.
“Steady, steady,” Jin said, his tone becoming more serious. “Just a little more—”
But suddenly, the rod jerked so forcefully that I lost my balance. My feet slipped on the wet platform we were standing on, and before I could catch myself, I was sliding towards the edge of the water.
“Whoa, no!” I gasped, my heart racing as I felt myself tumbling.
Before I could react, Jin grabbed my arm, but in the chaos, he lost his footing too. With a grunt, he fell into the water beside me, and I felt myself splashing down with him.
We both hit the water with a splash that was a lot louder than I expected, and for a brief second, everything went silent. I blinked, disoriented by the cold rush of water around me.
I splashed around, still trying to get my bearings in the water. My frustration was mounting as I glared at Jin, who was floating next to me with that unbothered, amused expression.
"This is your fault!" I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the water sloshing around. "You—you—made me fish, and now look at us. Soaked."
Jin chuckled, not at all concerned by the freezing water around us. “Well, you were doing so well at first, I thought you’d have it under control. I was just giving you some ‘encouragement.’"
I rolled my eyes, splashing some water at him in protest. "Oh, sure, encouragement. This was your idea, and now we’re both in the water!"
He grinned, splashing back at me. “Hey, I was trying to help. Besides, this is way more fun than sitting around, right? Who cares if we’re wet?"
“Easy for you to say!” I snapped, my teeth chattering slightly from the cold. "You're used to this, aren't you? But I just learned how to fish and now I’m practically swimming with the fish!"
“Better than catching them,” he teased, “You’ll be a pro by the end of this, don’t worry.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh, trying to ignore how cold the water felt against my skin. “This is not how I thought this first date would go.”
Jin’s smile didn’t falter as he shrugged. “Well, in my defense, I didn’t say this was a date. Just a... fishing trip."
“Oh, don’t try to back out now," I replied with a mock glare. "You made this happen. You’re the one who wanted me here."
“True,” he said, his voice suddenly softening. “But, honestly, I thought we’d get some fishing done and have a good time. Guess I underestimated how dramatic the whole thing would get.”
I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it all. Here I was, standing in a pond with Jin, soaking wet, arguing about fishing like it was a crime. Yet, for some strange reason, it wasn’t all bad.
"Well, now that we're here," I said with a smirk, "I guess I have no choice but to make the best of it."
The cold water still clung to me, making it hard to focus as I splashed water at Jin in frustration. I couldn’t stop laughing at how absurd this situation was, but it didn’t stop me from getting the upper hand for once. Jin, caught off guard by my playful attack, immediately retaliated, splashing me right back.
I giggled, backing up as I started to swim toward the shore, wanting to get away from the water. But before I could get far, Jin was faster, catching my wrist and stopping me in my tracks. I opened my mouth to protest, but then my gaze was pulled to something in the distance.
“Jin... I think—”
“I know,” he cut me off, his expression suddenly serious. “The paparazzi. Shit, this is bad.”
I looked around, my heart racing as I realized what was happening. We were soaked, awkwardly floating in the water, and now... they were here. The flashing lights were a dead giveaway.
“Look at us,” I muttered under my breath, a sense of dread sinking in. This was not how I imagined getting caught by the paparazzi.
“What now?” Jin asked, his tone urgent but oddly calm.
I smirked, shaking my head. “Let’s just give them a show,” I said, the idea forming in my head. “You trust me?”
Jin blinked, clearly confused, but before he could respond, I turned my body to face him. “Hold me,” I said, my voice firm despite the ridiculousness of the request.
His eyes widened in confusion, but I didn’t give him time to question it. Without waiting for a response, I wrapped my leg around his torso and my arms around his neck. I heard his breath catch as I leaned in closer, hiding my face from the direction the flash had come from.
“Y/N... what are you doing?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion.
“Hiding my face,” I replied with a playful grin, keeping my voice low so the cameras wouldn’t hear me. “And being romantic. Just follow what I say.”
I could see Jin’s ears turn pink as he processed what I was asking him to do. I felt a sense of satisfaction at how flustered he looked, but I didn’t want to linger in the awkwardness for long.
“Uh, okay,” he muttered, clearly unsure of what to do. But I could tell that he was trying his best to roll with it.
“Now, you’re going to get us back to the shore,” I whispered, leaning closer to his ear. “And I’m going to wear the hat in your fishing bag. Then we’re going to run to my car. I should have a towel for the gym, and you can call your agency to pick up your stuff. We just need to get out of here, Jin.”
His hand wrapped around my hips as he nodded, holding me tighter as he began to swim us back to the shore. I could feel the warmth of his hands against my skin, and for a moment, it almost felt like we were in our own little world, apart from the flashing lights, the cameras, and the chaos around us.
As we reached the shore I stepped out of his grip and grabbed the hat from the bag, quickly pulling it over my head to hide my face from the cameras. The sound of more flashes went off behind us, but Jin and I kept our eyes focused on the path ahead. He squeezed my side, a silent understanding passing between us.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice low and resolute.
We reached the car in no time, the tension from the paparazzi still hanging in the air. My hands were shaky, but I pushed through it, opening the trunk to shield us and grabbing the towel I always kept in the back. Without thinking too much,I pulled it over Jin’s head, my lips twitching into a teasing grin as I sat down on the trunk for a moment, my legs wobbling from the previous event.
“Here, you look like you need this more than I do,” I said, trying to hide the amusement on my face.
Jin froze, blinking at me like he wasn’t sure how to react. His wet hair clung to his face, and the towel barely stayed in place as he looked at me, wide-eyed.
“I—I didn’t expect this to be how it’d go,” he stammered, his voice almost sheepish.
I tried not to laugh, but it was hard. “Yeah, well, who would’ve thought? But hey, I think you look better with a towel on your head. Very... mysterious.”
Jin laughed awkwardly, running his hand through his damp hair and making it worse. His face turned a light pink, clearly caught off guard by the entire situation. "I—uh, I don’t really know how to handle this," he admitted, looking at me like I was the one making all the decisions.
I tried to hide my amusement, but I couldn’t stop teasing him. “Stop acting like your first dates haven’t been bad.”
Jin blinked at me, clearly thrown off by my response. “I’ve never been on a proper date,” he admitted, sounding a bit sheepish.
I raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what? You’ve never been on a proper date?”
Jin shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his wet hair. “I mean, my mom set me up with people before , but she was there too. It was weird.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Wait, so you’ve never dated anyone without your mom tagging along?”
He shrugged awkwardly. “I guess not.”
I let out a dramatic gasp. “No way. So you must be bad at kissing too, huh?”
Jin’s eyes widened, his face turning redder than I thought possible. “What? No, that’s not—”
“Damn, my husband’s so inexperienced. Your skills in bed must be—”
Before I could finish my teasing, Jin quickly covered my mouth with his hand, cutting me off. His face was bright red, and I could tell he was embarrassed beyond belief.
“I’ve kissed before, okay?” he muttered, clearly flustered.
I grinned beneath his hand, pushing it away. “I doubt it.”
Jin’s eyes narrowed at me, though there was still a hint of embarrassment in them. “I have, though! Just... not the way you're making it sound.”
I laughed, feeling a little too entertained by his discomfort. “So what now, huh?”
Jin took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but I could tell he was still feeling a bit flustered. “Honestly, though, what now? We can’t exactly go back to fishing, and you’re not going to have your agency show up in the middle of us being soaked like this.”
Jin removed the towel from around his neck and, without a second thought, draped it over my torso. I raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what to make of the gesture. “What are you doing?”
He glanced down at my shirt and then quickly looked away. “Your shirt was... ah, never mind.”
I stared at him, not quite understanding why he was acting so awkward. He cleared his throat and took a step back. “I’ll call the agency to pick up our stuff.”
He pulled out his phone, and I watched him for a moment as he dialed. I found myself distracted by the way his broad shoulders moved as he spoke. I tried not to stare too long, but before I could look away, I noticed his eyes flicking in my direction. I quickly turned my gaze to the floor, feeling a sudden heat spread across my face. What was happening? It was just Jin, right? Just... Jin.
He finished the call, and when he stepped back over, I felt a little self-conscious about how close we’d gotten. “They said they’ll pick up the stuff,” he said, his voice a little softer now.
I shifted in my seat, trying to act casual, but my mind was still buzzing from the momentary heat that had crept up on me. I cleared my throat and looked at Jin. “You should come over to mine.”
Jin blinked, clearly thrown off by my suggestion. I waved my hand dismissively before he could talk. “Just come. I have spare guy clothes, and it’ll be quicker than waiting around. “You’re going to catch a cold if you stay here anyway.”
Jin looked at me, slightly confused. “Why do you have—””
Before he could argue further, I slid out of the trunk and hopped over to the driver’s seat, not giving him much of a chance to protest. My hands were already on the wheel as I started the engine, casting a quick glance at him.
“Come on,” I said, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “We’re not getting any warmer out here.”
Jin hesitated for a second before letting out a resigned sigh and following me to the passenger side, still looking a bit unsure but clearly not wanting to argue anymore.
***
As we pulled up to my house, I parked the car and turned off the engine. Jin sat there for a moment, looking at the modest place before finally stepping out of the car. I didn’t wait for him, heading straight to the door and unlocking it. “Come on,” I called over my shoulder. “
Jin followed me inside, glancing around as I kicked off my shoes and headed to my room. “Make yourself comfortable or something,” I said, disappearing into the bedroom to rummage through my closet. I grabbed an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of loose sweatpants that I figured would work. When I returned to the living room with the clothes in hand, Jin was standing there, staring at them with his brows furrowed in disbelief.
“Why do you even have these?” he asked, clearly baffled.
I smirked, tossing the clothes onto the sofa and crossing my arms. “What, you think just because I’m not married I don’t have a life?”
His expression turned sheepish as he tried to find the words to respond. I raised an eyebrow, not letting him off the hook so easily. “Look, I grew up in America, okay? What do you guys call it? Open-minded, right?”
Jin opened his mouth, then closed it again, seemingly deciding it was better not to comment. He just nodded and cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks. Where’s the bathroom?”
“Down the hall on the left,” I said, pointing the way. “Go change. I’ll grab something for myself too.”
I left him to it and went back to my room, changing into comfortable loungewear. When I returned to the living room, I found Jin standing awkwardly near the couch, holding up the waistband of the sweatpants with both hands.
The sight was too much. The sweatpants were ridiculously oversized on him, and he looked utterly exasperated trying to keep them up. I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face. “Wow, struggling much?”
“These pants are enormous,” he grumbled, his ears already starting to turn red. “Do you have a belt or something?”
I leaned against the doorway, laughing openly now. “Who knew? I never thought Worldwide Handsome would have trouble filling out a pair of sweatpants. Is this a size issue, Jin? Are you just... small?”
His face turned an even deeper shade of red as he shot me a flustered glare. “I am not small! These pants are just ridiculously big!”
“Sure, sure,” I teased, smirking at him. “For the record, I definitely like big... but this is just hilarious.”
Jin spluttered, clearly too flustered to come up with a decent comeback. “Y-you—unbelievable!” he muttered, tugging the sweatpants up again with more force.
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Okay, okay if you’re really struggling, I might have a drawstring or something to help you out.”
He huffed in defeat, muttering, “Please, before these things fall off entirely.”
I grabbed a drawstring from the cabinet nearby and walked over to Jin, who was still clutching the oversized waistband with an almost comical amount of effort. “Alright, hold still,” I said, kneeling slightly to loop the drawstring around his hips.
Jin stood rigid, his arms awkwardly hovering at his sides. “I can do it myself, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, if you want to spend another ten minutes struggling and another five trying not to trip on the way out. Just let me help.”
As I tugged and tightened the makeshift belt around his waist, Jin seemed to grow stiffer, his gaze fixed firmly on the far wall. “This is... unnecessarily close,” he muttered under his breath.
I smirked as I finished tying the knot. “Relax, Worldwide Handsome. I’m just helping out. It’s not like I’m admiring the view.”
That earned me a flustered cough. “You’re unbelievable.”
I stepped back and grinned up at him. “There, all set. Now you’re safe from a wardrobe malfunction.”
“Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, his ears turning pink.
I headed to the kitchen, pulling out a kettle and setting it on the stove. “You like tea, right? Or is Worldwide Handsome more of a coffee guy?”
“Tea’s fine,” he replied, taking a seat at the small dining table and eyeing the kitchen with mild curiosity. “Do you always talk like that?”
“Like what?” I asked innocently as I pulled mugs from the cabinet.
“You know. All the... teasing,” he said, gesturing vaguely.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, leaning on the counter with a cheeky grin. “Did I hurt your ego? Should I sprinkle some compliments next time to soften the blow?”
Jin huffed, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet you’re still here,” I shot back, filling the mugs with hot water and dropping tea bags into each. “Guess that says something about you.”
“Yeah, that I have no choice but to be here because I was soaked, and you insisted,” he said, crossing his arms, though his tone wasn’t exactly convincing.
I brought the mugs over to the table and slid one toward him. “Admit it, you’re having fun.”
“Sure,” he replied, raising the mug to his lips. “If by ‘fun,’ you mean being endlessly teased while wearing pants that nearly fell off.”
I laughed, sipping my tea. “You’ll survive.”
Just as he opened his mouth to respond, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and sighed. “It’s my manager.”
“Go ahead,” I said, motioning for him to answer.
Jin picked up the call, his voice steady as he greeted his manager. “Yeah, we’re fine. No, don’t worry. Just soaked. Can you—oh, hang on.” He turned to me, lowering the phone. “He needs the address to drop off our stuff.”
I gave him a quick nod. “Sure. Give it to him.”
He passed the phone over to me, and I rattled off my address before handing it back. “Thanks. See you soon,” Jin said, ending the call. He set the phone back on the table and gave me a curious look. “So, how did you end up being so... prepared for guests, anyway?”
I smirked. “What, you think just because I live alone, I don’t have a social life? Or did the guy clothes throw you off again?”
He groaned. “Do I even want to know?”
“Probably not,” I said with a wink. “But you can keep guessing.”
A short while later, a knock at the door announced the arrival of Jin’s manager. I opened it to see a professionally dressed man holding a neatly packed bag. He gave me a polite nod before glancing inside and spotting Jin.
“Here’s everything you left behind,” the manager said, stepping inside just enough to hand over the bag. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s unlike you to leave without warning.”
Jin, now a little more composed in his improvised outfit, waved him off. “I’m fine. Things just... didn’t go as planned.” He shot me a quick glance, which I returned with a completely innocent expression.
“Uh-huh,” the manager said, not entirely convinced. “Make sure you dry off properly. Don’t want you to catch a cold.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you later,” Jin replied quickly, already at the door getting the bag out of my hands.
The manager’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, as if trying to piece together what exactly had transpired. I gave him a polite smile, resisting the urge to laugh outright.
Jin got to the doorway and turned back. “Thanks for... everything.”
“No problem,” I replied, my lips twitching into a grin. “Try not to let the pants fall off on your way out.”
His ears turned pink again as he muttered something under his breath and stepped out, closing the door firmly behind him.
The moment Jin left and the door clicked shut, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. A laugh bubbled up, and I sank onto the couch, clutching my stomach. The whole situation replayed in my head. It was all so ridiculous that it felt like a scene straight out of a comedy movie.
“He really didn’t know what to do with himself,” I said aloud, chuckling softly. The memory of his flustered expression while trying to keep the oversized pants up made me laugh even harder. Shaking my head, I leaned back on the couch, still grinning. Somehow, the day had gone from an unexpected disaster to one of the most amusing afternoons I’d had in a long time.
As I finally composed myself from laughing, an idea popped into my head. Grinning, I grabbed my phone and opened up the messaging app.
Y/N: Next time, I’m deciding the theme for the date. 😂
I hit send, imagining the mix of confusion and indignation on Jin’s face as he read it. A minute later, my phone buzzed with his reply.
Jin: What do you mean “next time”?
I smirked, my fingers flying over the keyboard.
Y/N: Oh, come on. You’re telling me you didn’t enjoy yourself?
There was a slight delay before his response came through.
Jin: Enjoy is a strong word… but fine, it wasn’t awful. Happy?
I chuckled at his reluctant tone.
Y/N: Wow, high praise coming from you. Okay, but next time, no fishing. Something more… my style.
Jin: Define “your style.”
Y/N: You'll find out. 😏
The little typing indicator appeared, disappeared, and then came back before his response finally arrived.
Jin: Fine. But if it’s worse than today, I’m holding you responsible.
Y/N: Deal. Just don’t forget to bring dry clothes. 😉
Jin: I’m regretting this already.
I laughed out loud, shaking my head. Whether he admitted it or not, he was going to show up for the next one. After all, I wasn’t about to let him live this day down so easily.
The next morning, the headlines were everywhere. Although my face wasn’t showing, the pictures were enough to spark a frenzy, a blurry shot of me hugging Jin, another with my head tilted so it definitely looked like I was kissing him. The world was having a field day with it, and I couldn’t decide if I was more amused or horrified. After scrolling through endless comments and articles, I finally decided to call Jin. He picked up quickly, his voice calm despite everything.
“Hey,” he said, sounding tired but composed. “I was wondering when you’d call.”
“Hey,” I replied, gripping my phone tightly. “So... I take it you've seen the photos.”
“Oh, I’ve seen them,” he said with a dry laugh. “I’m at the company now. We’re figuring out the next move.”
“And what’s the plan?” I asked, pacing my living room.
He sighed. “They’re thinking about releasing a statement saying I’m dating someone. Nothing final yet, but it’s the simplest way to control the narrative.”
I paused, biting my lip. “So you’re really going to go along with it?”
“Well, that was kind of the point, wasn’t it?” he said, his tone light but with a hint of something more serious beneath it. “The photos were supposed to look like a date. We just didn’t expect the whole falling in the water part to happen.”
I laughed despite myself. “Right. The ‘romantic and composed’ part of the plan didn’t exactly pan out, huh?”
“Not exactly,” he admitted, chuckling. “But hey, at least they got something usable. Even if...”
“Even if I look like I’m kissing you” I finished for him, unable to resist teasing.
He groaned. “Don’t remind me. My manager hasn’t stopped making jokes about that all morning.”
“Oh, come on,” I said, grinning. “You have to admit it’s kind of funny. I mean, the great Kim Seokjin was caught in such a compromising position. Truly a scandal for the ages.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, though I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I mean, can you blame me? It’s not every day you hear the ‘Worldwide Handsome’ get roasted by his own team.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, clearly trying not to laugh. “But in all seriousness, are you okay with this? I know it’s a lot.”
I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. “I mean, it’s not like anyone can tell it’s me, right? So as long as you’re okay, I’m okay.”
“Good,” he said, his tone softening. “And just so you know, if they do go with the dating story, I’ll make sure they keep you completely out of it.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling to myself. “But if they ask, can you tell them to get better angles next time? I mean, honestly, when you were holding me, your face looked like you were terrified to even touch me. What’s the matter? Afraid I might bite?"
I could practically hear his breath hitch on the other end, and I waited for his response, enjoying the teasing.
“I wasn’t terrified,” he said quickly, his voice a little strained. “It’s just... I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do.”
“Oh really?” I teased, still grinning. “You looked like you were trying not to crush me or something. I don’t bite, you know.”
There was a slight pause, and I could practically picture him floundering on the other end, trying to figure out how to respond. “I was just... being careful. Didn’t want to—”
I let out a soft laugh, cutting him off. “Oh, I get it. You were worried about getting too close, huh? Is that it?”
His voice dropped slightly, defensive but flustered. “It’s not like that. I just... wasn’t sure how to handle the situation.”
“Right, right,” I said, my grin widening. “Well, next time you’re holding me, just try to look a little less like you’re about to pass out from the pressure.”
Jin sighed dramatically, his embarrassment practically oozing through the phone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good,” I said with a smirk. "Maybe next time you'll actually look like you want to hold me."
I could hear him muttering something on the other end, his voice softer now, clearly too flustered to continue the conversation.
“Alright, alright,” he mumbled. “I’ll make sure to do better next time.”
And with that, he ended the call.
***
Two days later, Jin called me to update me on the company's decision. “The company’s decided to release the statement in a week,” he said, sounding a bit stressed but determined. “They want us to go on at least one more date. It has to be low-key, less scandalous this time. No surprises.”
I thought for a moment, then gave him my suggestion. “How about a quiet restaurant, something low-profile? We can meet a little earlier, maybe go in together to avoid being caught off-guard by any paparazzi. We can do this without all the chaos.”
Jin seemed to appreciate the suggestion. “That sounds perfect. I’ll book the place and we’ll meet earlier like you said. We can keep it under the radar.”
“Exactly,” I agreed, trying to keep things casual. “No more drama. Just a simple dinner."
We both laughed a little, but I could sense that this situation was starting to feel like a strange dance we were both learning to navigate, one where the steps had to be cautious, calculated.
“Alright,” Jin said, his voice sounding a little more relaxed. “I’ll take care of the details. I’ll see you in a few days then?”
“Yep,” I replied, smiling to myself. “See you soon.”
***
The day of the date came quickly and luckily I had taken a day off from work. Now, I stood in front of my mirror, staring at my reflection. The excitement that had crept up on me was unexpected, and I wasn’t entirely sure why it was there. Why was I excited about tonight? Was it because I was going out with Jin again? It didn’t make sense, but the feeling was there. Going out with him was different from anything I’d experienced before. There was no need to overthink every little detail. With Jin, I didn’t have to be anyone other than myself. No judgment, no calculations in my head, just... me. And maybe that’s why tonight felt a little more special, a little easier.
I took a deep breath as I stepped out of the door, trying to calm the flutter in my chest that seemed to follow me wherever I went. I wasn’t sure why this time felt different, but I pushed the thought aside.
I sent Jin a quick text saying I’d be there soon and that I’d meet him a few blocks away from the restaurant. When I arrived, I spotted Jin standing under a streetlight. He was dressed casually in a hoodie, but with a stylish coat over it, giving off a more polished vibe. His mask was perfectly fitted, and he looked effortlessly put together. As soon as he noticed me, he reached up to adjust his mask, pulling it snug over his face. I did the same, feeling a bit self-conscious, but knowing it was the right move.
"Hey," Jin said, his voice muffled by his mask. His eyes softened as he took me in, his gaze lingering for a moment before he added, "You look good."
I blinked, caught off guard by his compliment. "Uh, you too," I managed to say, a bit flustered.
Jin smiled, and before I could say anything more, he started walking towards the restaurant. I blinked for a moment, then jogged slightly to catch up with him. “Hey, where are you going?” I called out.
He glanced over his shoulder. “To the restaurant.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, feeling a sudden surge of disbelief. “Wait, hold on—what is this?” I asked, stopping for a second to process. “We’re going to get married soon, and this is how you’re treating your ‘wife’ when we go on dates?” I laughed, though I was secretly trying to make him a little less casual about it.
Jin froze mid-step, clearly thrown by my words. His hand, which had been swinging by his side, was now clenched in a slight fist. I saw a hint of embarrassment in his face as he turned to look at me, but before he could respond, I quickly reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling it gently so we were walking hand in hand.
His ears immediately turned pink, and he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. I couldn’t help but smirk. “Now we look like a proper couple in case of any paparazzi, right?”
Jin continued to hold my hand and didn’t say anything. We walked quietly, but with our hands linked, it felt different, more real and surprisingly comforting.
***
The restaurant was warm and cozy, even though we were the only ones there. Jin had booked the entire place. We were still joking about how we’d break the news to our families that we were “getting married.”
"So, how do you think your parents are going to react?" I asked, trying to keep the mood light and playful.
Jin grinned, shaking his head. "My mom’s going to lose it. She’ll probably say, ‘Are you serious? This better not be some kind of joke.’”
I laughed. "Same here. My mom will probably be like, ‘What happened? Did I miss something? When did this happen?’"
We both chuckled, but then Jin suddenly grew serious. “But jokes aside, we need to make sure we actually act like we’re in love. If I’m being honest, I feel like we have to show it, or no one’s going to buy this.”
I shot him a pointed look. “Well, you’re not helping your case by acting like you’re ready to bolt at any second. If we’re really ‘getting married,’ shouldn’t you at least try to act like you want to be here with me? To enjoy spending time together?”
His face flushed, and he seemed to struggle for a response. “I’m trying! This isn’t easy, Y/N. It’s not just about us. There’s a lot more to it. I don’t want to mess it up, okay?”
I leaned forward, not letting him off the hook. “Well, it’s hard to believe it’s real when you act like this. You look like you’re holding your breath every time we go out, like you’re waiting for something to go wrong.”
Jin looked frustrated, clearly feeling cornered. “I’m not trying to look like that! It’s just... I don’t know how to act. This whole ‘fake marriage’ thing is... weird.”
“Exactly!” I shot back, exasperated. “It’s weird, and it’s going to look even weirder if you keep acting like you’re about to break into a cold sweat every time we’re alone together. It’s not convincing anyone.”
Jin went silent for a moment, looking conflicted, before finally letting out a deep breath. “I’ll try. I’ll work on it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You better. I’m not signing up for this ‘pretend marriage’ gig if you’re going to keep looking like you’re being tortured.”
Jin sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “You make this feel like an actual job, you know?”
I leaned back in my chair, a satisfied grin on my face. “That’s because it is. It’s a job you’re going to have to do well if you want anyone to believe this.”
He exhaled sharply, clearly growing more annoyed. “You know, it’s not like I’m doing this on purpose,” he snapped, his voice a little sharper than usual.
I raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the sudden shift. “I’m just saying you need to relax a little. Maybe it’s all this tension you’re carrying around that’s making this feel like such a big deal.”
Jin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, his gaze fixed on the table. “Maybe you should try relaxing, then,” he muttered, his tone cold.
I stared at him, unsure of what to say. The teasing, the playful back-and-forth, everything that had been lighthearted moments ago, felt like it had evaporated in an instant. The air between us shifted, thick with discomfort.
I tried to lighten the mood again, offering a nervous laugh. “Come on, Jin, we’re just kidding around here. It’s not worth getting upset over.”
But he didn’t respond, and the silence that followed made everything worse. The playful banter had turned into something else entirely, something I didn’t quite know how to handle.
“I’m not upset,” Jin said, but his tone didn’t match his words. He stared down at his phone as if trying to avoid eye contact. "I just don’t think this is as simple as you’re making it out to be.”
I sighed, not knowing how to fix this sudden tension. “Well, I’m just trying to make light of it. We don’t have to overthink everything.”
His eyes met mine for a brief moment before he looked away again. “Yeah... well, maybe you’re right,” he said, but his voice was distant now. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight.”
I felt a knot form in my stomach, the unease growing between us. I hadn’t meant for it to turn into this. I thought we were just joking, but now there was this wall between us that hadn’t been there before.
Without saying much more, we both stood up, the awkwardness between us palpable. Jin paid the bill quickly, avoiding my gaze as he did. I followed him out of the restaurant, both of us walking in silence.
When we reached the street, Jin pulled his mask back on, adjusting it hastily. The usual lightness that had once been there was completely gone. We walked a few steps before I stopped, turning to him. “I guess... I’ll see you later?”
Jin nodded, still not looking at me. “Yeah. See you.”
With that, we parted ways. I watched him walk off into the night, the tension lingering in the air. I could feel the sting of the argument, the weight of the silence between us. I couldn’t help but wonder if things had just gotten a little too complicated, or if I had said something wrong.
***
The next morning, as expected, the headlines exploded. I scrolled through the notifications on my phone, feeling a sense of dread creep up when I saw the photos. Thankfully, the pictures weren’t too revealing, our masks were on, and we’d stayed away from any windows, which gave me some relief. Still, the paparazzi was running wild with their own version of our night.
I sighed and leaned back in my chair. Despite the great time we’d had at the start of the date, the awkward tension at the end had left me with a tinge of guilt. I hadn’t meant to make things uncomfortable, but it had felt like Jin was pulling away, and I couldn’t ignore it.
Wanting to clear the air, I grabbed my phone and typed a message to Jin.
“Hey, I saw the headlines. At least the photos turned out better than last night’s vibe, right? I know things got a little awkward, but I just wanted to make sure you're good. Let me know.”
I stared at the screen for a second before hitting send. Hopefully, he wouldn’t think I was being overly concerned.
A few minutes passed, and just as I was about to put my phone down, a message notification popped up. My fingers hesitated as I opened it, unsure what kind of response I’d get. But to my surprise, Jin’s reply wasn’t dry or distant. In fact, it was... playful?
“Well, the photos came out better than expected. But last night? I don’t know... I guess I was just ‘hand’-ling things wrong.”
I blinked, not sure if I was reading that right. Did he just... make a dad joke?
“Jin, really? A dad joke?” I couldn’t help but laugh at the pun, my irritation melting away.
He responded almost instantly:
“Hey, what can I say? I’m just trying to ‘hold’ things together here.”
I laughed again, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous,” I typed back, still grinning at his attempt to lighten the mood.
“I know, I know. But in all seriousness, you’re good. And next time, I’ll hold your hand like I actually mean it, alright?” He sent back with a wink emoji.
“Well, I’ll expect nothing less than perfection. No pressure,” I teased him, feeling the playful tension between us return.
***
A few days had passed since the awkward date, and life had fallen back into its usual routine. Jin had been tied up with his schedule, so we hadn’t texted much, but honestly, I didn’t mind. I was busy with work too. Besides, things between us weren’t strained, we’d found our rhythm again, and his dad jokes still managed to make me laugh whenever we did talk.
But now, with the date for Jin's company statement about us being a couple looming closer, I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Would things change? Would the public reaction make things harder? It was hard not to think about it, especially since the media had already latched onto us.
As I walked out of the office, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a call from Mom. I hesitated for a second since usually when she called, she wanted to talk about something important, and I wasn’t sure I had the energy to deal with her questions about my personal life right now. But then I remembered that I hadn’t seen her in a few days, and I couldn’t avoid her forever.
"Hey, Mom," I answered, trying to sound casual.
"Sweetheart, I’m at that little restaurant we like," she said, her voice warm and inviting. "I was thinking we could have dinner together tonight. It's been too long since we caught up. What do you say?"
I stopped in my tracks for a moment, glancing at the time. I had planned to just head home and relax, but I couldn’t say no to her. Not after all the time I’d been spending with Jin. I’d been so wrapped up in everything that I hadn’t made enough time for her.
"Sure, I’d love to. I’ll be there in about 20 minutes," I replied, already turning toward the direction of the restaurant.
"Great! I’ll see you soon."
When I arrived at the restaurant, I spotted Mom immediately. But there was someone sitting beside her, someone I wasn’t expecting. A man, mid-30s with a clean suit and confident demeanor. My heart sank as I got closer. Could it be? Was this the guy she had been trying to set me up with? The one I had refused to meet?
I walked over to the table, plastering on a neutral smile, trying to keep my cool.
"Y/N, sweetheart! Over here!" Mom greeted me, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Sorry I didn’t tell you ahead of time, but I figured you'd probably say no, like you’ve been doing with the blind dates lately."
I sighed inwardly. "This is Mr. Kim," she continued, gesturing to the man beside her. "I thought it’d be nice for you two to finally meet."
I forced myself to make eye contact and muttered a quick, polite "Hi" to both of them, feeling a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion.
After a few awkward moments of forced pleasantries, I knew I couldn’t stay any longer. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," I said, standing up quickly, barely giving them a chance to respond.
Mom’s eyes followed me, but I didn’t care. I walked away, the frustration building inside me. How many times had I told her I wasn’t interested in this kind of setup? Yet here we were again.
Once in the bathroom, I leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if I was more angry or just worn out. All I knew was that I had to get out of here before this date became even more unbearable.
And then it clicked in my mind like a switch. I could call Jin. He couldn’t show up, obviously, but maybe he could still help me get out of this mess. I couldn’t stick around with Mom and Mr. Kim any longer. If I did, she’d be even more suspicious. So, I had to leave, but I couldn’t go back home. She’d definitely come over later and confront me.
I quickly dialed Jin’s number, my heart pounding.
“Jin, listen, I need help,” I said as soon as he picked up. “I’m stuck on another blind date with this guy Mom’s trying to set me up with. I can’t do this, so I’m leaving now. But I’m not going home, I’m not dealing with Mom showing up and grilling me about it. So... I’m coming to yours.”
There was a pause on the other end before Jin’s voice came through, clearly confused. “What? You can’t come here. What are you—?”
I cut him off, my frustration bubbling over. “I started this agreement for exactly this reason, so I could be done with terrible dates. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
Before he could say anything else, I hung up the phone and rushed out, heading straight for Jin’s place.
Summary: Jin of BTS has mastered the stage, but at 34, he's losing the battle at home, his mother won't stop pushing him toward marriage. When she arranges an "innocent" dinner with the daughter of a longtime family friend, Jin is furious. He has no time for romance, let alone an arranged setup. But fate throws him off balance when he meets Y/N, a sharp, ambitious woman who has no interest in being tied down either. From awkward encounters and fiery banter to a shocking proposal of a fake marriage, the two find themselves caught between family expectations and their own desires. What begins as a scheme to free themselves from relentless matchmaking soon stirs something real, something neither of them planned for. Love, duty, and deception collide in this slow-burn romance. Can Jin and Y/N keep up the act, or will the lines between pretense and passion blur beyond repair?
A/N: This story has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, and I’m so excited to finally share it. Since Tumblr won’t let me post it all at once, I’ve had to split it into two parts, even though it’s technically a one-shot 🥺. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it! Feel free to share your thoughts 💕
Love the story? ☕ Support me on Ko-fi! 💕
Read Part 1 here.
I arrived at Jin’s place and rang the doorbell. The moment he opened the door, I didn’t give him a chance to say a word. I stepped inside, already talking.
“Look, Jin, you obviously couldn’t come, but you can’t leave your girlfriend in that situation, so I decided to—”
“Y/N—” Jin started, but I was already halfway through removing my shoes and coat.
Then, as I turned around, I suddenly realized my surroundings. I wasn’t alone in Jin’s private space. Instead, I was standing in the living room with all six other BTS members sitting around, looking at me. I froze, my coat falling to the floor as I awkwardly waved.
“Great…” I muttered, still processing the fact that I was not alone in the room.
Jimin’s eyes widened, his expression unreadable. “Girlfriend?? So it wasn’t a paid actor you hired to cover for your cousin?”
I glanced over at Jin, who was now standing beside me, looking like he wanted to disappear. Before anyone could say anything else, Jin grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the nearest room, his face red. "I’ll explain later," he muttered to the others.
I followed Jin into the room, my mind racing as I tried to make sense of everything. He shut the door behind us, and I stood there for a moment, still processing the awkwardness of walking into the living room with all the guys staring at me like that.
“Jin,” I started, crossing my arms in front of me. “What is going on? Why is everyone here? And why didn’t you tell me there would be others here too?”
Jin sighed, rubbing his temples, looking like he was regretting everything. "You didn’t let me finish on the phone," he said defensively, clearly flustered. "I was about to tell you, but you just hung up on me! I didn’t have a chance to explain."
I threw my hands up in the air, exasperated. "You could have texted me! A heads-up would’ve been nice!"
“Shit, you’re right,” Jin admitted, looking down at his shoes for a second before looking back up at me.
I shook my head, still trying to process the situation. “So how much do they know? They think I’m some... paid actor? What am I supposed to do now?”
Jin ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "No, it’s not like that. I mean, they know something’s up, but they don’t know all the details. I just... didn’t know how to explain this whole fake marriage thing to them without making it weird."
I let out a frustrated breath, my fingers tapping against my arms. "So they think I’m just here for the company’s PR, playing a part, and that’s it? No one even knows what’s going on, and you’ve been keeping me in the dark too!"
Jin stepped closer, his tone turning more serious. "It’s not like that, okay? I just... I didn’t know how to handle it, especially with the guys. They’re not exactly the best at keeping things under wraps. I didn't want to make it worse."
I stared at him for a moment, trying to calm myself down. "Well, you definitely made it worse by not telling me. I feel like I just walked into some bizarre sitcom where I’m the ‘fake wife’ that no one knows about."
Jin rubbed his face, clearly worn out. "I’ll fix this. I swear. I’ll talk to them, get it all sorted. It was never supposed to be like this."
I let out a small laugh, though it was more out of disbelief than amusement. Before I could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. Jimin’s voice floated in from the hallway. "Yo, Jin, is everything alright in there?"
Jin shot me a quick glance before calling out, "Yeah, everything’s fine! Just... having a little chat. Go ahead and continue without us!"
I looked at Jin again, rubbing my temples. "This is going to be... interesting, isn’t it?"
He gave me a sheepish smile. "You have no idea."
Jin took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Alright, here's the deal. The company told me to keep things lowkey and so probably told them you are a paid actor of some sort , so they don't know the real situation. But I’m going to step out in a minute and tell them some of the truth, perhaps that you're actually my real girlfriend. Just... pretend like we're a couple, okay?"
I stared at him for a moment, feeling a little overwhelmed but trying to keep it together. "Okay, I guess that’s what we've been doing all along, right? It's not like we didn’t know this was going to get complicated like this at some point."
Jin nodded, his expression softening, and he gave me a small smile, trying to ease the tension. "Yeah, I’ll go tell them the news. You can change into something comfy and grab whatever you need. This is already awkward enough."
I let out a frustrated sigh, but despite the situation, I couldn’t help but smile a little at his casual tone. "This feels like déjà vu," I muttered to myself as Jin left the room.
Soon after I changed into some comfy clothes he laid out for me, I stepped out of the room to find Jin standing, facing the guys who were all seated. The game had clearly been paused when I came in, and they were all listening intently to what Jin had just said. As I entered the living room, I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness.
"Hey, guys," I said, "Sorry about the interruption."
Jin shot me a quick glance, his expression still a little tense, but I could see he was relieved that the worst part was over. The guys looked between each other, processing what had just been explained. It was awkward, but at least the cat was out of the bag.
Jimin was the first to speak up, his signature grin plastered across his face. "So, Jin," he said, glancing between me and him, "didn't take you as someone to keep secrets. A girlfriend, huh? Pretty serious, aren’t we?" He nudged Jin with a wink, and the others snickered.
Taehyung leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "This is news to us, hyung. I thought you were just going to be a bachelor forever. Looks like someone got you good."
I couldn’t help but smile awkwardly, still trying to get used to all of this. Jin was shifting in place, trying to maintain his cool, but the teasing was relentless.
"Come on, guys," Jin said, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. "I had to keep it lowkey for the company. You know how it is."
Yoongi, who had been watching everything with a half-smile, raised an eyebrow. "Lowkey? For the company?" He let out a laugh, crossing his arms. "You couldn't even tell us you were dating her, but now we're supposed to believe this is real?"
Hobi, who had been quiet up until then, chimed in with his usual energy. "So what’s the plan, huh? Are we getting wedding invitations next?" He shot Jin a teasing grin, his eyes sparkling.
Jungkook leaned back, arms folded, looking at Jin curiously. "I didn’t even know you were into this kind of ‘secret relationship.’ How long have you been hiding her?"
Jin was blushing now, clearly uncomfortable with all the attention. "It’s not like that, okay? I didn’t want to bring this up to the group until everything was... clearer. The company said to keep things under wraps."
The guys erupted into laughter again, clearly enjoying themselves as Jin threw his hands up in defeat. "I swear, I didn’t think it would be like this. I thought I could keep it simple, but now you guys just don’t let up, do you?"
Namjoon gave Jin a knowing look. "Hyung, you’re one of the most private people I know. Of course, we wouldn’t let you get away with something like this."
Jungkook grinned. "Yeah, you always act like we don’t notice things. Are we supposed to just pretend we’re not going to be seeing you with her everywhere now?"
Jin groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You guys are worse than the media and fans."
After a few more teasing comments from everyone, the atmosphere finally calmed down, and the focus shifted back to the game. Jin, though still a bit flustered, was now part of the playful banter, and I couldn’t help but feel like this was exactly how things were meant to be – complicated, messy, and full of laughter.
"So, what are you guys playing?" I asked, glancing around at the board and cards scattered on the table.
Hobi, always the one to make things exciting, immediately grinned. "Oh, it’s a team game! We usually take turns playing, but since you’re here, you can join. That way, we’ll have 8 players." He paused, then added with a wink, "And, of course, you’ll be on Jin’s team."
I raised an eyebrow, trying to hide the small smirk creeping up. "Oh, I’m on Jin’s team? How convenient."
The guys chuckled, but then I had a thought. "Wait, which one of you guys bickers with Jin the most?"
Instantly, every single one of the guys turned their gaze toward Jungkook, who had been sitting back, sipping on his drink. He looked up, his face giving off a knowing expression. "What? Me?" he asked, pointing at himself dramatically. "I don’t bicker with Jin. I just... disagree sometimes."
Jimin let out a loud laugh. "Disagree? He argues with Jin like they’re in a competition."
I smirked. "Alright, then. I’ll team up with Jungkook."
The table erupted in laughter, and Jin shot me a mock glare. "You’re making a mistake, Y/N," he warned, though there was a playful edge to his voice.
Jungkook gave me a grin, clearly amused by the idea. "You’re in for a real treat, Y/N. Let’s see if you can keep up."
The game started, and the atmosphere was full of laughter and competition. I was quickly drawn into the rhythm of the game, having more fun than I expected. Jungkook and I were in sync, and although the game went on for a while, and it was close, by the end, we had somehow managed to win – beating everyone, including Jin. I couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him.
"Well, Jin," I said, "looks like you got beat."
Jin groaned dramatically, throwing his head back. "This is so unfair," he said, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. "You must have cheated somehow."
I shook my head, laughing. "Nah, I’m just that good. Guess you’ll have to practice more next time."
The guys erupted into laughter again, clearly enjoying the moment. Jin just shook his head, still pretending to be upset but clearly not bothered. I could tell he was just happy that everything felt more normal again, despite the mess of the situation.
Jungkook shot me a high five. "Nice job, Y/N. You made this game way more fun."
I smiled, feeling lighter than I had all evening. Despite the tension earlier, this moment with the guys was something I wouldn't trade. It was chaotic, messy, and definitely awkward at times, but it was also fun.
***
The door clicked shut as the last of the guys left, their laughter fading into the evening air. Silence settled over the room, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner. Jin and I stood there for a moment, neither of us saying anything. It wasn’t tense, exactly, but there was definitely a shift in the energy now that we were alone.
“So…” I broke the silence, leaning casually against the back of the couch. My lips curled into a smirk as I turned to him. “About earlier…”
Jin raised an eyebrow, his arms crossing defensively. “What about earlier?”
“You lost every single game we played tonight. Every. Single. One,” I said, dragging out the words for emphasis.
He groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Are you really bringing this up again? Haven’t you humiliated me enough for one evening?”
“Oh, absolutely not,” I replied, grinning. “What happened to your ‘worldwide handsome’ confidence? Can’t handle losing to little ol’ me?”
Jin’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “Excuse me? Confidence intact. I just think you…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “You distracted me, that’s all.”
“Distracted you? That’s the best you’ve got?” I snorted. “Face it, Kim Seokjin, you’re just bad at games.”
His eyes narrowed, a competitive spark lighting in them. “Oh, is that so? Fine, let’s settle this.”
“Settle what?”
“You and me. One-on-one. Right here, right now.” He gestured to the gaming console still connected to the TV. “I’ll show you who’s really bad at games.”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You really want to embarrass yourself again?”
“The only one who’s going to be embarrassed is you,” he shot back, already grabbing the controllers. He handed one to me with a determined expression. “Let’s do this.”
The match began, and to his credit, Jin held his own for the first few minutes. But as the game progressed, it became obvious he wasn’t trying as hard as he could. His movements were just a little too slow, his reactions just a bit delayed. I… was winning. Again.
“You’re letting me win, aren’t you?” I asked suspiciously, pausing the game to glance at him.
He feigned innocence, his eyes wide. “What? Me? Never.”
“Jin.”
“Okay, fine.” He sighed, slumping back into the couch. “Maybe I… wanted you to feel good about yourself. Is that so bad?”
“You’re impossible,” I said, shaking my head. But despite my words, I couldn’t help the grin spreading across my face. “Thanks for the pity win, I guess.”
“Anytime.” He winked, setting his controller down. “Now, can we move on to something less humiliating for me?”
I chuckled, standing to stretch. “Like what?”
“A movie,” he suggested. “Something lighthearted. We’ve already destroyed my pride tonight; no need to ruin the rest of my ego.”
“Deal.”
We spent a few minutes debating which movie to watch before settling on a classic comedy. Jin grabbed a bottle of wine from the kitchen, pouring two generous glasses as we settled onto the couch. The room felt cozier now, the tension from earlier fading into a comfortable warmth.
I wasn’t much of a drinker, but the wine was smooth and went down easier than I expected. By the time the movie was halfway through, my glass was empty, and I’d poured myself another. Jin’s laughter echoed through the room, infectious and genuine, and I couldn’t help but join in.
“You know,” I said, swirling the wine in my glass. “You’re not so bad to hang out with, even if you’re terrible at games.”
“Wow, thank you,” he replied dryly, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “You’re not so bad yourself. For a sore winner.”
I gasped, feigning outrage. “I am not a sore winner!”
“You’ve been rubbing it in my face all night.”
“That’s called savoring the moment,” I corrected him, raising my glass in a mock toast. “Cheers to my glorious victory.”
He rolled his eyes but clinked his glass against mine anyway. “Cheers.”
As the movie played on, the conversation drifted to lighter topics: embarrassing childhood stories, favorite foods, and random anecdotes. But as the wine flowed and the night deepened, the mood shifted again, taking on a quieter, more reflective tone.
“You know,” Jin said softly, staring at his nearly empty glass. “You never really talk about your family. I mean, I’ve heard bits and pieces, but…”
I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the stem of my glass. “There’s not much to tell.”
“Come on, Y/N,” he said gently. “I know that’s not true.”
I sighed, setting my glass down on the coffee table. The wine had loosened my tongue, and while a part of me wanted to brush the topic aside, another part, the part that had grown to trust Jin, felt like maybe it was time to open up.
“It’s just… complicated,” I began. “My mom… she’s… intense. Obsessed with this idea of me getting married, settling down, and… I don’t know. Being perfect, I guess.”
Jin frowned, his brow furrowing. “Why the rush? You’re still young. You have plenty of time for all that.”
“That’s what I keep telling her,” I said, laughing bitterly. “But she doesn’t listen. It’s like she’s living through me, trying to make up for whatever she feels she missed out on. And it’s exhausting.”
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That… sounds like a lot of pressure.”
“It is,” I admitted. “Sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe around her. Like no matter what I do, it’s never enough. And the worst part is, I don’t even know what would be enough.”
Jin was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on me. “That’s not fair to you,” he said finally, his voice steady but filled with an undercurrent of emotion. “You shouldn’t have to live your life trying to meet someone else’s expectations. You deserve to be happy, Y/N. On your terms.”
His words caught me off guard, and I blinked, suddenly feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. I quickly looked away, taking a deep breath to steady myself. “Thanks, Jin,” I said quietly. “That means a lot.”
He reached out, his hand resting lightly on mine. “I mean it. And if you ever need someone to remind you of that, I’m here.”
The movie played on, and as the credits began to roll, I felt my eyelids growing heavier. Jin made a casual comment about the ridiculousness of the final scene, but his voice seemed to fade, becoming part of the cozy haze around me.
Somewhere between the sound of his voice and the comfort of the couch, I drifted off to sleep.
~~Jin's POV~~
Jin noticed the change almost immediately. Your breathing slowed, becoming even and soft. He glanced over, realizing you had fallen asleep, your wine glass still resting precariously in your hand.
He chuckled quietly, shaking his head. "You really can't handle your wine, can you?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
Carefully, he reached over, taking the glass from your hand and setting it on the table. As he did, his gaze lingered on you for a moment. The way your head was tilted awkwardly against the couch cushion made his neck ache just looking at you.
“Can’t leave you like that,” he muttered to himself.
Moving cautiously, Jin leaned down and slipped one arm under your knees and the other around your back. He lifted you in a bridal carry, suddenly reminding him of the first date.
You stirred slightly, murmuring something incoherent, but you didn’t wake. Jin held his breath, waiting to see if you’d open your eyes. When you didn’t, he let out a soft sigh of relief and carried you toward his room.
Gently, he laid you down on the bed, pulling the covers over you with care. As he stepped back, his eyes lingered on your face. Your usual teasing smirk was absent, replaced by a peaceful expression that made something in his chest tighten.
Just as he turned to leave, he caught sight of something, a single tear rolling down your cheek.
His heart clenched. Were you dreaming? Having a nightmare?
Without thinking, Jin knelt beside the bed, brushing the tear away with his thumb. The touch was light, barely there, but it was enough to make his chest ache with an unfamiliar emotion.
“It’s okay,” he said softly, not sure if he was speaking to you or himself. “You’re okay.”
For a moment, he hesitated, unsure whether to stay or go. Then he pulled the chair from his desk closer to the bed, sitting down to keep watch over you.
“I’ll just stay a little while,” he told himself, leaning back in the chair.
But as the minutes passed, his head grew heavier. His eyelids fluttered shut, and before he realized it, he’d drifted off to sleep, his arms crossed over his chest and his body angled protectively toward you.
~~Y/N’s POV~~
I stirred awake, blinking against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. The first thing I noticed was the unfamiliar softness of the bed beneath me. I frowned, sitting up slowly. Looking around, it hit me, I was in Jin’s bed. His perfectly neat room, complete with a ridiculous number of plushies neatly arranged on a shelf, left no room for doubt.
How did I end up here?
A quick replay of the previous night flashed through my mind: the games, the wine, the movie… and then nothing. I must’ve passed out. But how did I…
The smell of something savory wafted through the air, cutting off my train of thought. My stomach growled involuntarily, and I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. My curiosity got the better of me, and I padded out of the room, following the mouthwatering scent.
When I reached the kitchen, the sight that greeted me made me pause.
Jin stood by the stove, his broad shoulders and back facing me as he flipped something in a pan. He was humming softly to himself, the morning light catching the edges of his hair and giving him an almost angelic glow.
I leaned against the doorway, crossing my arms with a smirk. “I could get used to this,” I said, raising an imaginary camera to my face and miming taking a picture.
Jin turned, startled for a split second before his lips curled into a grin. “You’re up.”
“Apparently,” I said, stepping into the kitchen. “Not where I remember falling asleep, though.”
He shrugged, turning back to the stove. “You looked uncomfortable on the couch. Figured I’d let you have the bed.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you? Where’d you sleep?”
He glanced over his shoulder with a casual shrug. “The chair in my room. Didn’t want to leave you alone in case you started sleepwalking or something.”
“Sleepwalking? Really?” I snorted, grabbing a seat at the kitchen island. “How thoughtful of you.”
“Someone has to keep you out of trouble,” he teased, plating whatever he was cooking and bringing it over to the counter.
I looked down to see a beautifully arranged plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. My stomach growled again, louder this time, and Jin smirked.
“Hungry?”
“Starving,” I admitted, grabbing a fork and taking a bite. “Mmm, okay, this is amazing. How are you good at everything?”
“I’m just a man of many talents.” he said while sitting down across from me with his own plate.
“Except gaming,” I quipped, earning a mock glare.
“Do you ever let things go?” he asked, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed his irritation.
“Not when I’m right,” I said sweetly, taking another bite of the pancakes.
Jin shook his head, but I noticed the small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re smug.”
“Cute and smug? I’ll take it,” I said with a wink. “But seriously, this breakfast is incredible. Are you always this domestic?”
He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Only for special occasions. Consider yourself lucky.”
We both laughed, the sound filling the cozy kitchen. For a moment, it felt so normal, so easy, that I almost forgot about the craziness of the situation we were in.
“So,” Jin said after a beat, his tone more serious. “Did you sleep okay? You looked… upset last night.”
I blinked, his words catching me off guard. “Upset?”
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes searching mine. “You started tearing up. I wasn’t sure if it was a dream or…”
I hesitated, the memory of our late-night conversation flickering in the back of my mind. “I don’t know. Maybe it was just the wine messing with me.”
Jin didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled softly. “Well, whatever it was, I’m glad you got some rest.”
I nodded, a small smile playing on my lips. “Thanks, Jin. For… everything. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble, but you did.”
He shrugged, looking uncharacteristically shy. “What can I say? You’re stuck with me now. Fake or not, I’ve got your back.”
The warmth in his voice made my chest tighten, but I pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the food in front of me.
“Careful, Kim Seokjin,” I said, grinning. “Keep this up, and I might start to think you actually like me.”
He smirked, his confidence snapping back into place. “Who says I don’t?”
“Touché,” I replied, laughing.
***
The cab ride home was quiet, giving me time to scroll through my phone. As soon as I unlocked it, a string of missed calls and messages from my mother stared back at me, her name bold and unrelenting at the top of my notifications.
I sighed, dropping my head back against the seat. Of course, she’d be persistent. I knew the conversation was inevitable, but I couldn’t bring myself to face it just yet. Not when everything was about to change.
Soon, I thought. I’d have to drop the bomb sooner or later. but for now, I wasn’t ready. I silenced my phone and slipped it back into my bag, watching the city blur by outside the window.
Once home, I tried to focus on anything but the impending chaos: tidying up, scrolling aimlessly through social media, even staring at the untouched novel on my coffee table. But the knot in my stomach didn’t loosen until my phone buzzed with a message.
Jin: They’re not disclosing your identity, just confirming the photos were real.That I am in a relationship. Nothing too crazy for now.You good with that?
I exhaled, grateful for the heads-up.
Me: Yeah, that works. Thanks for letting me know.
Jin: Anytime. Stay chill, okay? It’ll be fine.
Easier said than done.
The announcement came around noon, and I was watching it unfold in real-time, my stomach twisting with every word.
"Big Hit Entertainment confirms BTS’s Jin is in a relationship."
I stared at the headline on my screen, my heart pounding as I scrolled through the official statement:
"We would like to address the recent speculation regarding BTS member Jin. It is true that he is currently in a relationship. However, out of respect for the individual’s privacy and as they are not a public figure, we will not be disclosing any details about their identity. We ask for fans' understanding and support during this time."
The articles followed suit, breaking down the blurry paparazzi photos that had surfaced, shots of us holding hands, walking together, and, of course, the infamous fishing trip where I had practically wrapped myself around him in the water. The news sites were eating it up, analyzing every single detail.
Speculations were already running wild online. Some fans were convinced the girl in the photos was an actress, a model, or even a stylist who worked with the group. Others were combing through Jin’s past interactions, trying to connect any dots that might give them a clue.
I exhaled sharply, my hands gripping the edge of the couch. At least my identity was still under wraps… for now.
Just as I was about to shut my phone off, my mother’s name popped up on my screen. Again.
I let it ring out, the weight of the upcoming conversation pressing down on me.
Before I could even process what to do next, my phone buzzed again, this time with a call from Jin.
I answered quickly. “Hey”, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Saw the announcement.”
“Figured you did,” he replied, his tone light but steady. “You holding up okay?”
“Define okay,” I joked weakly. “It’s… a lot. But I’ll survive.”
“Good,” he said. “Because we’re not done yet.”
I groaned. “What now?”
“Next step: meeting the parents,”
I blinked, gripping the edge of the counter. “Jin, how exactly are we supposed to tell them?”
Jin’s voice came through, calm but with an edge of hesitation. “I thought about that too. Here’s the plan: I’ll invite them all to a restaurant. Nothing too suspicious. I’ll convince my mom to invite your family, so it seems casual. You can be there too, and then…”
“And then?” I pressed, already bracing myself.
“Then I’ll tell them you’re the girl the company confirmed is my girlfriend,” he said simply. “And that we’re engaged. Later on, we’ll say we’re planning to marry after my tour.”
I blinked, caught off guard by how straightforward he made it sound. “Right. And when are we doing this?”
“I thought today,” Jin admitted, “but that might be too soon for you. I think I can avoid them until tomorrow evening… without going crazy from the spam calls from my mom.”
I let out a slow exhale, trying to process the whirlwind he was proposing. “Okay, but—?” I hesitated, unsure how to even finish my thought. “I guess this has to be done.”
“It does,” Jin agreed lightly. There was a pause before he added, “I’m coming over now, though.”
“Why?” I asked, confused.
“You’ll see.”
Before I could protest, he hung up.
I stared at my phone, half-annoyed and half-curious, wondering what on earth he was planning this time.
Jin showed up at my apartment just fifteen minutes after he’d hung up, leaving me standing at the door, completely confused.
“Why are you here?” I asked, stepping aside to let him in. He looked slightly out of breath, a little flustered, and oddly... nervous.
“So,” he said, avoiding my gaze as he ran a hand through his hair. “What do you think of the plan?”
I frowned, crossing my arms as I watched him pace. “I think it’s a good way to handle things. We shouldn’t dwell too much on it, it needs to be done. But seriously, Jin, why are you here?”
“About that...” He stopped pacing, turning to face me, his ears tinged pink. For a moment, he hesitated before stepping closer. Without a word, he reached for my hand.
“Jin?” I asked, my voice uncertain.
He slipped something cool and metallic onto my finger, a ring. I froze, staring down at the delicate piece of jewelry now on my hand. Then, slowly, I looked up at him, only to notice he had a matching ring on his finger.
“Is this…?” I started, still processing.
“Yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “I thought… we needed to make it believable for them. After all, we’re supposed to be engaged.”
I blinked at him, my mind racing. “You could’ve given it to me tomorrow. Why the rush?”
His cheeks flushed deeper, and he struggled to find his words. “I just... thought it’d be better if you had it now. You know, to get used to it or something.”
I stared at him, both touched and baffled by the gesture. “You really went all out, huh?”
“Well, if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right,” he muttered, avoiding my gaze.
A small smile tugged at my lips. “You’re such a perfectionist, you know that?”
He finally met my eyes, his expression softening. “Maybe. But I didn’t want this to feel completely fake, even if it’s just an act for now.”
I looked back at the ring, turning it slightly on my finger. It fit perfectly. “Well,” I said, trying to keep my tone light, “it’s a good thing I don’t hate it. This is actually… really pretty.”
Jin smiled, his usual confidence flickering back into place. “Of course it is. I have great taste.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the warmth spreading through my chest. “Alright, Mr. Worldwide Handsome. Let’s hope it does the trick tomorrow.”
“It will,” he said, his voice quieter now. “We’ve got this.”
And for the first time in a long while, I actually believed him.
***
That night, I kept catching myself staring at the ring. Not in a dreamy, romantic way, but in an oh-god-this-is-really-happening way. The weight of it, the way it sat perfectly on my finger, made it all feel real, even though it wasn’t.
Jin had left soon after, telling me to "get some sleep because tomorrow’s going to be a long night," but sleep didn’t come easily. Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured my mom’s face when she’d hear the news. Would she be shocked? Suspicious? Excited? Jin’s mom seemed warm, but what if she could see right through us?
Eventually, morning came, and I spent most of the day distracting myself with work, avoiding any and all texts from my mom. When the evening rolled around, I found myself standing in front of my mirror again, adjusting my outfit for the hundredth time.
It’s just dinner, I told myself. Nothing I can’t handle.
As if on cue, my phone buzzed. Jin.
Jin: I’m outside. Ready?
I grabbed my bag, took one last deep breath, and headed out.
When I slid into the passenger seat of Jin’s car, I could already feel the tension radiating off him. He was staring straight ahead, gripping the wheel a little tighter than necessary.
"Are you nervous?" I asked, watching his jaw clench.
He scoffed lightly, finally glancing at me. "Me? Nervous? Never."
I raised an eyebrow, holding up my hand to flash the ring. Jin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, maybe I’m a little nervous. But my mom will be fine. Your mom, though..."
I groaned, already feeling the migraine forming. "Yeah. Let’s just hope she doesn’t start interrogating us right in the middle of dinner."
Jin shot me a look. "She will. We just have to make sure our stories match."
"Fine," I said, settling in. "Let’s go over the details one more time before we get there."
Jin pulled out of the driveway, the reality of what we were about to do settling in. There was no turning back now.
At the restaurant, our families were already seated by the time we walked in. The atmosphere was warm, the private dining area cozy enough to make it feel like a casual gathering. My mom and Jin’s mom sat side by side, deep in conversation, while our fathers exchanged pleasantries.
The moment my mom saw me, her eyes flickered between me and Jin, sharp and calculating.
"There they are," Jin’s dad said with a smile, motioning for us to sit.
I forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as strained as it felt. Jin pulled out my chair before sitting down next to me, his fingers briefly brushing against mine under the table, a subtle reassurance.
"So," my mom started, crossing her arms. "Are you two going to tell us what this is all about?"
I glanced at Jin. He gave my hand a quick squeeze before turning to face both our families with that signature confidence of his.
"We wanted to tell you in person before the media gets ahead of us," he said smoothly. "The rumors are true, I’m in a relationship."
My mother arched an eyebrow. "With who?"
Jin smiled, then turned to me. "With Y/N."
Silence.
And then—
"You’re what?" My mom’s voice came out sharp, while Jin’s mother gasped softly.
I held my breath as the weight of the moment sank in.
"And that’s not all," Jin added. "We’re engaged."
Silence stretched across the table, heavy and unrelenting. I could feel the weight of my mother’s stare, sharp enough to cut through steel. Jin’s mom looked equally surprised, her lips parting slightly in shock.
“You’re what?” my mom repeated, her voice laced with disbelief. “Engaged? You two?”
I barely had time to respond before my father scoffed, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. “Now hold on a second. Two months ago, you two couldn’t stand each other. What changed?”
Jin’s mom turned to him, her expression torn between surprise and suspicion. “Seokjin,” she said carefully, “you told me yourself that you and Y/N couldn’t spend five minutes in the same room without arguing. Now, suddenly, you’re engaged?”
Jin let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah, about that. Things… changed.”
My mom’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Changed how? Because last time I checked, the only thing that was changing was the number of complaints you two had about each other.”
Jin and I exchanged a quick glance. Crap. We knew this wouldn’t be easy, but hearing it out loud made it sound even less believable.
Jin cleared his throat, putting on his best charming smile. “Well… you know how they say love and hate aren’t that different? Turns out, all that bickering was just… passion in disguise.”
I resisted the urge to kick him under the table. Passion in disguise? That was the best he could come up with?
My mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Passion,” she echoed dryly, clearly unimpressed.
Jin’s dad let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “So, let me get this straight. You went from constantly annoying each other to this? Just like that?”
Jin straightened in his seat, nodding a little too confidently. “Exactly.”
My mom gave him a sharp look. “And we’re supposed to believe this?”
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to lean into the act. “I know it sounds sudden, but it’s not like we hadn’t noticed each other before. We just… didn’t realize what was there.”
Jin’s mom crossed her arms, looking at both of us. “So when did this realization happen?”
Jin and I glanced at each other for a split second. Crap. Timeline. Timeline.
“A while ago,” Jin said smoothly, reaching for his water. “We started spending more time together, and it just… made sense.”
My mom, still skeptical, tapped her nails against the table. “You really expect us to believe that in a matter of weeks, you both went from barely tolerating each other to engagement?”
Jin smiled, his confidence slipping just slightly. “It’s… intense, I know.”
“Intense?” My mom scoffed. “It’s concerning.”
I let out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “I get it. It’s a lot to take in, but we wanted to tell you first before anyone else.”
Jin nodded quickly. “Exactly. We care about what you guys think.”
Jin’s dad sighed, rubbing his temples. “Well… I guess we should just be happy you two aren’t at each other’s throats anymore.”
His mom still looked unconvinced, but I saw her expression soften slightly. “If you’re sure about this…”
“We are,” Jin assured her.
My mom exhaled deeply, giving me that look. “We’ll talk later, Y/N.”
Oh, I was so doomed.
Jin’s dad chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I suppose this means we should start discussing wedding plans?”
Jin and I both let out nervous laughs.
“Absolutely,” I said, forcing a smile.
“Right,” Jin agreed. “We’ve got plenty of time to plan.”
The conversation eventually shifted, though the tension lingered. The hardest part was done, our families knew. But somehow, I had a feeling this wasn’t the last time we’d be interrogated about it.
***
As soon as dessert was finished and the conversation had settled, I excused myself to the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe. The weight of everything, our parents' reactions, Jin’s ridiculous "passion in disguise" excuse, and the fact that we had somehow pulled this off, was starting to settle in.
I turned on the sink, splashing a bit of cool water on my face to shake off the tension. Okay. That wasn’t terrible. Skepticism aside, our families didn’t outright reject the idea. That was a win, right?
Just as I let out a sigh of relief, the door creaked open behind me.
Oh no.
I didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was. The sharp, knowing look in the mirror confirmed it, my mother had followed me.
I swallowed, straightening up as she closed the door behind her, arms crossed. “Alright,” she said, voice calm but firm. “Talk.”
I blinked. “Talk?”
“Yes, Y/N,” she said dryly. “You just dropped the biggest bomb on us, and you expect me not to have questions? You and Jin, really?”
I hesitated, searching for an answer that wouldn’t sound rehearsed. “I… I know it’s a lot, but it’s real.”
She arched an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And when exactly did you decide to go from arguing at every family event to suddenly in love and engaged?”
I sighed. “It wasn’t sudden. It just… took us a while to realize how we actually felt.”
Mom’s sharp eyes flickered to my hand, and I stiffened when she reached out, taking my fingers and inspecting the ring. “So this is real, too?”
I nodded, trying to ignore how my heartbeat picked up. “Yes.”
She studied me for a moment, searching my face. “Y/N… are you happy?”
The question caught me off guard. I had expected more skepticism, more drilling for details, but instead, she was asking me how I felt.
I took a breath, and maybe for the first time, I didn’t have to fake it.
“I am,” I said quietly. “Jin… he makes things easy. I don’t have to pretend around him. We know each other. He’s—” I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “He’s good to me. And he makes me laugh, even when I don’t want to.”
My mom’s expression softened just slightly, but she didn’t let me off the hook that easily. “That’s a nice speech,” she said. “But I still don’t understand how this happened so fast.”
I gave a small shrug. “Sometimes things just… click.”
She sighed, rubbing her temple. “I just don’t want you making a mistake. Marriage isn’t a joke.”
“I know,” I said, holding her gaze. “And I promise you, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was right.”
She exhaled. “Alright.”
I blinked. “Wait… that’s it?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll still be watching, Y/N. But if you’re serious about this, then fine.” She gave me one last scrutinizing glance before heading for the door.
Just as she opened it, Jin was standing right outside, his hand raised as if he had been about to knock.
“Jin?” I said, confused.
He cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You were taking too long,” he muttered. “I was coming to check if you were okay.”
My mom glanced between us before letting out a small hum, giving Jin one last pointed look before walking past him back to the dining area.
Jin looked after her, then back at me. “Did I just dodge a mother's interrogation?”
I smirked. “Barely.”
He exhaled dramatically. “Good. Now let’s get out of here before she changes her mind.” I laughed, following him out as we rejoined our families.
***
The car ride was quiet at first, just the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of Jin tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. I leaned back in my seat, still processing everything that had happened tonight, how our families reacted, how my mom actually let it slide, and how, for a moment, I almost believed my own words about why I liked Jin.
I glanced at him, the streetlights casting a glow over his face as he focused on the road. He looked deep in thought, probably relieved that dinner was over.
“So,” I started, breaking the silence, “you were really about to barge into the bathroom to rescue me, huh?”
Jin scoffed, eyes still on the road. “I wasn’t barging in. I was just… checking.”
I grinned, turning in my seat to fully face him. “Mhm. And what exactly was the plan? Drag me out mid-interrogation? Sweep me off my feet and make a run for it?”
His grip on the wheel tightened slightly. “I didn’t have a plan,” he admitted. “I just thought you’d been gone too long, and knowing your mom, I figured she might be grilling you.”
“She was.”
Jin shot me a quick side glance. “And?”
I smirked, holding up my hand and wiggling my fingers. “She saw the ring.”
He let out a low chuckle. “And?”
I leaned back again, feeling smug. “And she bought it.”
Jin let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Thank God. I thought she’d see right through you.”
“Oh, she definitely still has her doubts,” I added. “But I gave a very convincing speech about why I like you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What’d you say?”
I grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Jin narrowed his eyes, but before he could press further, I decided to change the subject to something much funnier.
“You know,” I mused, tilting my head, “for a guy who’s about to get fake married, you really are so innocent.”
He nearly choked. “Excuse me?”
I smirked. “Oh, come on, passion in disguise? That’s what you went with?”
Jin groaned, gripping the wheel tighter. “I panicked, okay? What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, we fell in love overnight’?”
“Anything but that,” I teased. “Seriously, have you ever lied about being in love before? Because that was painfully bad.”
“I don’t make a habit of fake relationships, Y/N,” he shot back, giving me a pointed look.
I gasped dramatically. “Wait, don’t tell me this is your first time pretending to be engaged to someone?”
Jin rolled his eyes. “Yes, actually.”
“Wow.” I shook my head in fake disappointment. “So inexperienced. So pure. So—”
“Do not finish that sentence,” he warned, but I could see the tips of his ears turning pink.
I grinned. “Honestly, I feel bad for you. How are you going to survive if we have to do PDA?”
Jin shot me a horrified look. “We don’t have to do PDA.”
I gasped again, placing a hand over my chest. “Jin, sweetie, we’re engaged. We have to be convincing.”
He groaned, tilting his head back against the headrest as we hit a red light. “This is going to be a nightmare.”
“For you, maybe,” I said cheerfully. “For me? It's a comedy.”
Jin sighed dramatically. “If I crash this car, just know it was your fault.”
***
A few days had passed since the restaurant dinner, and somehow, I had managed to dodge any more intense interrogations from my mom. But tonight? There was no escaping it.
Jin’s mother had invited everyone over for a family dinner at her house, the same house where this entire situation first started. It felt like some kind of ironic full-circle moment, except this time, instead of accidentally being tangled in Jin’s life, I was here as his fiancée.
I took a deep breath before stepping inside, feeling Jin’s presence beside me as we entered the warm, familiar space. Our families were already seated in the living room, chatting like this was any other family gathering. The second we stepped in, though, all eyes were on us.
“There they are,” Jin’s mom said, her smile warm but sharp. “The engaged couple.”
Jin and I exchanged a quick glance, silently reminding each other to sell this.
Jin placed a hand on my lower back as we walked further inside, his touch light, but enough to make me blink up at him. Was he actually doing PDA on his own?
I smirked, deciding to test the waters. As we sat down next to each other, I casually reached for his hand under the table, threading my fingers through his.
Jin visibly tensed. Caught you.
I leaned in slightly, lowering my voice so only he could hear. “Relax, babe. This is what real couples do.”
Jin exhaled slowly before forcing a smile, gripping my hand tighter as if to say you’re going to pay for this later.
His dad, of course, noticed immediately. “Oh? Holding hands so freely already? Guess you two are serious.”
I smiled sweetly. “Of course. What kind of fiancée would I be if I didn’t show my love for Jin?”
My dad chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “I have to admit, seeing you two like this is still surprising, but I’m happy if you’re happy.”
Jin squeezed my hand before clearing his throat, turning to the table. “Speaking of that… there’s something I wanted to discuss about the wedding.”
Our parents leaned in, clearly interested.
Jin straightened up, his voice steady. “I have to leave for a tour in a week.”
Silence.
My mom blinked. “A tour?”
Jin nodded. “It’ll be three months long. We’ll be traveling a lot, and I’ll be busy, so I know that’s a long time to be apart right after an engagement.” He turned to me, his eyes softening like he was actually concerned. “But I couldn’t wait. I didn’t want to risk Y/N being taken by someone else or waiting too long. So… I proposed now.”
I blinked. Damn. That was a good line.
His mom sighed, smiling fondly. “You really love her that much, huh?”
Jin smiled, a little too smug, and turned to me. “Of course. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I internally gagged but kept my face neutral, giving his hand a small, loving squeeze. “And he’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”
My mom, still skeptical, tapped her fingers against the table. “And after this tour?”
Jin didn’t hesitate. “We’ll continue with the wedding plans and get married once I return.”
More silence. Then…
“Well,” Jin’s dad said, nodding, “that’s fast.”
Jin’s mom, however, smiled. “But I suppose when you know, you know.”
I felt Jin’s fingers tighten around mine slightly. Yeah. When you know, you know.
There was a moment of quiet as our families exchanged knowing looks. Jin and I both shifted in our seats, clearly uncomfortable with the weight of their stares. Then, like a dagger in the tension, Jin’s mom suddenly asked, "So, you two are thinking about kids after the tour too, right?"
I nearly choked on my sip of water, while Jin blinked at her, his face a shade of red I hadn’t seen before. He cleared his throat and looked at me, as if trying to gauge my reaction before answering.
"Uh, well... we haven’t exactly made any big plans like that," Jin stammered, clearly trying to avoid the question. "We’re just... trying to enjoy being together first."
"Ah, come on," his dad teased, nudging Jin. "You’re serious enough,no? You’re not going to wait too long, are you?"
Jin chuckled nervously, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I think we need some time before we start planning that, don’t we?" He shot me an apologetic glance. "Maybe... much later."
I tried to salvage the moment, smiling a little too brightly. "Yeah, we’re definitely not rushing into that kind of thing right now."
"Alright, alright. We’ll leave that for later, I suppose." Jin’s mom gave me a wink before shifting her attention back to the table. "But speaking of rushing things... who confessed first, huh?"
The table went quiet as all eyes turned toward us, and my face immediately turned scarlet. Jin froze beside me, and I could feel the heat from his embarrassment radiating.
"Uh, what?" I blurted, trying to make light of the situation. "Who confessed first?"
Jin blinked, obviously flustered, his fingers twitching around my hand like he was deciding whether to answer or run away. "Y/N," he said quickly, as if trying to get it over with.
I turned to him, shocked. "What? No, that’s not—" I caught myself mid-sentence, my cheeks now matching his as I stammered. "I did not confess first!"
Jin shot me an apologetic glance, clearly trying to save face. "Yeah, you did," he said, though his voice was shaking with barely contained laughter. "You totally did."
I blinked at him, mortified. "I—" I stopped, realizing he wasn’t backing down. "I—Okay, fine! I may have said something first, but only because you were being so awkward about it!"
"Ha!" Jin’s dad let out a triumphant laugh. "There you have it, folks. Y/N’s the brave one!"
Jin, now fully red, buried his face in his hands. "I can’t believe this is happening right now," he muttered, his voice muffled.
I couldn’t stop the smile creeping up on my face despite the embarrassment. "I swear, I’m never letting you live this down," I teased, squeezing his hand tightly.
Jin’s mom grinned, clearly enjoying the discomfort. "Well, it’s nice to know. Looks like our Jin’s a bit shy when it comes to matters of the heart."
"Definitely," I added, smirking at him. "Shy, awkward, and... a little too slow."
Jin shot me a playful glare. "You’re lucky I’m letting you get away with this."
***
The dinner had wound down, everyone was a little tipsy from the wine Jin’s dad had insisted on pouring, and the atmosphere had shifted into a comfortable, hazy warmth. The chatter was lighter now, full of sleepy giggles and lazy smiles, but there was still that unmistakable tension lingering in the air, especially when Jin’s mom turned to us with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“You know,” she began, her tone suggestive, “we have plenty of rooms, so there’s no need to rush home tonight. You’re all more than welcome to stay.” She gestured to the house around us, as if making sure everyone understood there would be no shortage of space.
Before I could protest, she added with a wink, “Except, of course, for the young couple, who’ll be staying in Jin’s old room.” She smiled so wide it almost felt like she was daring us to say something.
I glanced at Jin, who was already looking at me with wide eyes, clearly caught off guard. Our families both exchanged knowing looks, and then Jin let out a nervous laugh.
“Uh, yeah. That’s... fine. Right?” Jin said, his voice cracking just slightly as he glanced at me.
I shot him a teasing smile, pretending to think it over. “Sure, I mean, it’s only... your childhood bedroom, right?”
“Yup,” he said, clearing his throat, his face flushing a bit.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said, taking the opportunity to give him a gentle nudge. "I mean, you’re an adult now, right? Not a little kid anymore."
Jin’s mom, clearly loving the awkwardness of the situation, rose from her seat and gave us a warm smile. “Alright then, I’ll get the extra blankets. Don’t want you two getting cold now, do we?”
The whole room went silent for a second as she casually left, and the air seemed to thicken with all the unspoken fun that was about to unfold.
A few minutes later, Jin’s mom returned, her hands full of extra blankets. She winked at us knowingly, handing one to Jin before pushing him gently toward the door. “You’ll be fine. Just remember, keep the noise down,” she added in a low voice, which made both Jin and me flush a deep red.
“Mom!” Jin practically shouted, but it was more out of embarrassment than actual surprise.
I couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, but my own face was hot now too. “I’ll... I’ll make sure we stay quiet.”
Jin’s mom smirked and closed the door with a soft click, leaving us alone in his childhood bedroom.
We stood there for a moment, then Jin turned to me, still red in the face, and burst out laughing. "I can’t believe this is happening. My mom, really?"
I shook my head, still chuckling. “Well, at least she’s not shy about... anything.”
Jin ran a hand through his hair, his face still flushed with embarrassment. “Yeah, well, I don’t think I’ve ever been more embarrassed in my life.”
I glanced around at the room, my eyes landing on the bed. It was definitely smaller than the one I had slept in the other night, and I couldn’t help but think, This is going to be interesting.
Jin seemed to notice my hesitation, probably seeing the look in my eyes. “You know what? I’m going to go shower. You can get settled in while I’m gone.”
I nodded, grateful for the break. As soon as Jin stepped into the bathroom, I dug through his shelves for something to wear. I found a t-shirt that looked comfortable enough and slipped into it, surprised to find it fit me surprisingly well. It was a little loose but just the right amount of cozy.
I looked at the bed again, and a rush of heat filled my chest. I really have to sleep in the same bed with him tonight? My thoughts were racing, what was I even supposed to do? I glanced around, unsure whether to just crawl into the bed or leave it empty and uncomfortable for myself.
Eventually, I just crawled in, curling under the covers as if to hide away from the situation. My heart was racing, and the seconds felt like they stretched on forever. I heard him coming back from the shower, his footsteps pacing around the room.
But after a while, I realized something: I couldn’t feel Jin's weight on the bed at all. My heart skipped a beat.
I dared to lift the blanket just slightly, my pulse quickening. I peeked over the edge of the bed, only to find Jin... putting a mattress on the floor.
“Wait, what are you doing?” I asked, my voice a little too loud in the quiet room. What was going on here?
Jin froze, looking at me over his shoulder. “Huh?”
I blinked, trying to process what I was seeing. “Are you... planning to sleep on the floor?”
Jin’s face flushed even more, but he quickly shrugged it off. “Well... I mean, it’s a small bed. It’s probably better that way.”
I sat up in bed, staring at him. “What if your mom comes in the middle of the night to check on us? She’s already so... interested in our sleeping arrangements.”
Jin rubbed the back of his neck, trying to avoid eye contact. “I doubt she’ll do that.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Jin, just come here,” I said, my voice softer now. “I won’t let you sleep on the floor. Seriously. Just... come to bed. I swear, it can fit us both if you stay in the corner.”
Jin hesitated, looking from me to the mattress on the floor, then back to me. “I’m fine. Really. I’ll make do.”
I raised an eyebrow, not backing down. “Are you afraid to share a bed with a woman? Oh wait, let me guess maybe you haven’t shared one with anyone because you’re a vi-?”
Jin’s eyes widened, his face turning crimson again. “I—You know what? Fine.” His tone was a mix of frustration and defeat, and before I could say another word, he stormed over to the bed, crawling in beside me with an exaggerated sigh.
“I’ll stay on the edge,” he said, practically flopping onto the mattress. He turned toward me with a playful glint in his eye. “But just so you know, you’re the one who made me do this.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics. “Sure, sure. But if you’re staying on your side, that’s all good with me.”
We both lay there in silence for a few moments, our bodies close enough that I could feel the warmth from his side, but far enough apart to avoid any real closeness. My heart was still racing, but this time, it wasn’t from awkwardness, it was something else entirely.
Jin turned to face me, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “This is probably the most awkward sleepover ever, huh?”
I smiled back at him. “Yeah, definitely.”
But as the night settled around us, something shifted. The awkwardness faded into something more comfortable. Despite everything, I felt strangely at ease next to him.
We were both quiet for a while, just laying there, and I finally drifted off to sleep, with his presence somehow making it feel... right.
***
The next morning, I woke up with a soft warmth beneath my cheek. My head was resting on something solid, and the steady rise and fall of the surface beneath me lulled me into a peaceful, though slightly disorienting, daze. I blinked, trying to clear the fog from my mind.
Wait... where am I?
My eyes shot open, and my brain registered the situation in a split second: I was laying on Jin’s chest. His soft heartbeat was audible beneath me, and his shirt, slightly wrinkled, was so close I could almost count the fabric threads.
I gasped, trying to push myself up, but in my haste, I misjudged the angle and knocked my forehead right into his chin.
"Ow! Ow!" I groaned, immediately grabbing my head in pain. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, and I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”
Jin groaned beneath me, clearly still half-asleep. "Y/N... ouch… what are you doing?" His voice was muffled and groggy.
I pulled back quickly, sitting up and clutching the blanket around me like it could somehow shield me from the embarrassing mess I’d just made. "I—uh, I didn’t mean to... I just woke up, and—"
Jin rubbed his chin, still trying to shake off the sleepiness. He blinked up at me with an expression that was a mix of confusion and amusement. "You didn’t exactly wake me up... but next time, maybe try not to headbutt me first thing in the morning."
I pressed my palm against my face, groaning inwardly. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Jin shifted, propping himself up on one arm and giving me a teasing grin. “Well, at least now I know I’m not the only one who gets too cozy in the morning.”
I quickly sat up, trying to escape the awkward tension in the air. "Okay, okay, let's... forget that happened," I mumbled, brushing the hair out of my face. I shot him a quick glance, “Let’s just... let’s pretend this never happened, alright?”
He grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered I was. He drove me home after we quickly said goodbye to his parents. I must have been lost in thoughts, since he’d been talking for the last minute before I even noticed.
“Sorry—what did you say?” I asked, blinking as I sat up.
He glanced over, cheeks warming. “Oh, nothing important. We’ve arrived at your place.”
I peered out the window at my front gate. “Right.” I slipped the car door open and paused on the step. “This was… fun. I’ll see you when you get back?”
His shoulders relaxed and he offered a small smile. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
I reached across the console and touched his arm lightly. “Listen, when you FaceTime your parents, and they ask how we’re doing, just tell them we talk every day and FaceTime each other. We don’t actually have to, but since we’re ‘engaged,’ they’ll expect it.” I grinned, and he laughed softly.
“Deal,” he said, eyes bright.
My throat tightened. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “So… this is goodbye for now?”
He swallowed, then nodded. “Yeah. Goodbye, Y/N.”
“Bye, Jin. Have a blast on tour.” I forced a grin, though my voice wavered.
I turned away before he could see my eyes sting. Even a pretend arrangement like this one still left a real ache. I hurried up to my apartment, the quiet click of my heels echoing in the hallway, and headed straight for the shower, letting the warm water wash away the bittersweet sting of farewell.
~~Jin’s POV~~
The day of departure arrived in a blink of an eye. I stood in the makeup room, my suitcase open beside me, while Jimin hefted a guitar case and Jungkook checked his passport.
“Why isn’t Y/N coming with us?” Jimin asked, arching an eyebrow.
I shrugged, running a hand through my hair. “She’s got her career here, too much to leave behind, and touring would mess up her schedule. Besides, it’s not exactly private on the road.”
Jungkook laughed. “Aw, come on, you’re gonna FaceTime her all the time at least, right? All that lovey‑dovey couple stuff?”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a grin. “We’re not that sappy.”
“But she’s coming to see you off, at least?” V leaned in, curious.
I glanced at the clock on the wall, departure was in two hours. “I… I hope so,” I murmured.
Our manager’s voice crackled through the intercom: “Alright, everyone, drivers are here. Time to head to the airport. Make sure you’ve said your goodbyes.”
I felt my hand twitch in my pocket. Without thinking, I pulled out my phone, tapped Y/N’s name, and sent a quick message:
Jin: Flight boards in two hours.I’ll text you once I’ve landed safely.
~~ Y/N’s POV~~
I had just finished washing the dishes and collapsed onto the couch when my phone lit up. Lazily, I reached over to the coffee table and squinted at the screen: Jin. My heart skipped a beat. He’d just texted about his flight. Maybe I should go see him off, show the other members I care—no, I didn’t owe them an impression. And the airport would be packed with fans. There was no way I could fight through that crowd…Ugh. Screw it. I grabbed the first jeans and T‑shirt I could find, yanked my hair into a messy ponytail, and called a taxi. If I hurried, I might just make it before he boarded.
In the cab, I frantically searched online for his gate number. Fan sites had already posted snippets of the schedule; it made me cringe to join those forums, but anything to make sure he saw me there. All I wanted was to tell Jin to have a safe trip and that I’d be waiting for him when he got back.
When I arrived at the terminal, the crowd was even worse than I’d imagined. I sprinted toward the departure gates, scanning the sea of heads for his familiar dark hair. My lungs burned, and my echoed frantically against the polished floor.
“Jin!” I screamed, but my voice was swallowed by the roar of fans. I reached the glass doors just as he stepped through them, flanked by the others. His back was to me, and before I could push my way forward, the doors slid shut.
For a moment, I stood there, chest heaving, fingertips pressed against the cool glass. Then I convinced myself maybe it was better this way. He didn’t see me embarrass myself in front of his bandmates or his fans. I turned and slipped out of the terminal, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. Back in the taxi, I stared at his unread text and tapped out a reply:
Y/N: Have a safe flight.
***
Jin texted me as soon as he landed, and over the next few days he told me everything about the absurd pranks the other boys pulled to each other. I’d reply with stories from my workday: how my coffee machine exploded on Monday, and that one time I accidentally walked into the wrong meeting room. Before long, our chats became the highlight of both our days.
Four weeks flew by, and despite the time‑zone gap, we managed to message every single day. Then, one afternoon, instead of a text I saw “Incoming FaceTime from Jin.” My heart leapt, until the call connected and it wasn’t Jin at all, but J‑Hope, grinning mischievously.
“Noona Y/N! AISHH—Jin is absolutely hammered right now and keeps shouting your name. What did you do to him? He won’t stop going, “Y/N! Y/N! Did you guys fight?”
“Huh? No, of course we didn’t fight.” What was really going on here I thought.
“Maybe you two should… talk? Hold on, I am passing him the phone”. J‑Hope panned the camera over to Jin, whose cheeks were flushed and eyes glassy. “Y/N… where are you?”
“Home.”
“Why are you there alone? I’m coming to you.”
My heart jumped. “Jin, you’re on tour! Why have you drunk so much? What’s going on?”
He tried to speak again but the camera wobbled. The phone slipped from his hand and the screen went black… call ended. Stunned, I stared at my phone. I don’t know how to process what just happened, but I wait, eyes glued to the blank screen, for a callback that never happened.
The next morning, my alarm jolted me awake at 7:15. I swatted at my phone and squinted through bleary eyes at the lock screen, it was already mid‑morning by Jin’s time. My heart sank as I remembered I’d dozed off waiting for his callback… and he still hadn’t reached out.
I slid out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, the tile cold under my bare feet. As I brushed my teeth, I replayed last night’s call: Jin’s unfinished reply. What had really happened? My mind spun with possibilities as I splashed cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the knot of worry forming in my chest.
At the office, I sank into my desk chair and booted up my laptop. My to‑do list glowed on the screen, reports to draft, emails to send, a client presentation in the afternoon. I opened my inbox, but my eyes kept drifting to the FaceTime icon up in the corner. My fingers itched to reach for the phone and call Jin directly, but I forced myself to focus.
When I finally walked through my front door that evening, every muscle in my body ached from the day’s tension. I tossed my bag onto the couch and sank down beside it, spinning the ring Jin had given me between my fingers. Two days. I decided I’d wait two more days for him to reach out. If I hadn’t heard from him by then, I would take matters into my own hands.
The next two days passed in a blur of work and restless nights. My phone remained stubbornly silent. With my courage gathered like a shield, I tapped his name in Contacts and pressed FaceTime, my heart pounding in my ears.
The screen rang once, twice, then flickered to life. There he was: sweat beading on his forehead, hair mussed as if he’d just torn off a rehearsed‑worthy run, stage makeup smudged at the edges. He blinked at me, clearly startled.
“Um… hi,” he said, voice low.
I blinked back at his unexpectedly handsome face. “Hi, that's what I get? Hi? Jin—do you remember what happened a few days ago? When you FaceTimed me and then…”
His cheeks flushed so vividly I could almost see the flames. “Oh my,” he stammered, looking anywhere but the camera. “Even if I don’t remember to be honest, I woke up and the guys were teasing me about it. I… I didn’t know I was shouting your name. Please don’t take it so seriously.”
I laughed softly, relief flooding me. “Gosh, so you were just embarrassed and decided not to contact me? I actually worried you’d gotten food poisoning or something.”
He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes downcast. “Fine. I was embarrassed, okay? And they keep teasing me, Y/N. I’m not used to it.”
I tilted my head, grinning. “Then tease them right back. Or next time, just tell them you miss me, without the drinks.”
He blinked, a mock-offended look crossing his face.
“Who said anything about missing you?”
I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms. “Oh, come on, your cheeks are literally burning. You don’t get embarrassed like that over nothing.”
He huffed. “I just… didn’t want to give them ammunition to tease me even more.”
I leaned forward, towered over my screen. “So the solution was radio silence? Really?”
He ran a hand through his damp hair. “I panicked, okay? I thought you’d be upset.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Upset? For you calling me at two in the morning? I’d have been more upset if you hadn’t called.”
He opened his mouth to argue, then closed it, blinking. “You really wouldn’t mind?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, I’d mind if you didn’t want me around. But I’m your fake fiancée, so you don’t really owe me anything.”
Jin shook his head and smirked. “Of course I want you around. Next time I’ll try to warn you, no midnight calls.”
I grinned. “I’ll keep my phone handy. And maybe don’t drink so much before the call.”
We both laughed, the tension dissolving as easily as it had built.
The months that followed settled into a comforting rhythm. Every morning began with a bleary “good morning” text from Jin, sometimes brief, sometimes playful, full of emojis and inside jokes. Throughout the day, we traded snapshots of our worlds: his rehearsal room strewn with water bottles and stray lyric sheets, my desk piled with coffee mugs and half‑finished reports. On weekends when he had a day off, we FaceTimed for hours. He slipped so seamlessly into my daily life that I half‑expected to wake up and find him sitting on the edge of my bed.
And that made me realise that I missed him. More than I’d ever anticipated. Even knowing he would be back in two weeks, the countdown on my calendar already scribbled with “Jin returns!”, couldn’t stave off the longing. I found myself tracing his name on my phone screen a dozen times a day, rehearsing in my head what I’d say when he finally stepped off that plane. Two more concerts remained on his tour: one in Chicago, then the grand finale in Los Angeles. It was on a lazy Tuesday afternoon that my phone buzzed with an unfamiliar notification: a new group chat. I hesitated before tapping it open. The title was simply “Reuniting the lovebirds” and inside were only three participants: myself, Jungkook, and V.
V: Hey Noona! Hope you’re doing well 😊 We have a spare ticket for our last show in LA. Jungkook and I thought it’d be awesome if you came!
Then Jungkook chimed in:
Jungkook: Jin’s been talking about you non‑stop, he’d be so happy to see you there. We’ve arranged flights and accommodation already. All you need to do is say yes!
I stared at the screen, breath catching. The group chat started to fill up with details: flight times, the hotel they were staying in, even suggestions for the best local cafés. Their enthusiasm, even through words on a screen, was contagious.
Yet a tremor of doubt crept into my chest. I pictured the sea of screaming fans, spotlights sweeping across the stage, and me somewhere in the aisles trying not to look out of place. What if it backfired? What if Jin was too busy, or worse, annoyed at me for invading his space and work? My thumb hovered over the keyboard. I typed a tentative response:
Y/N: Thank you so much for this… It means a lot. I’m still thinking it over, this is a big step for me. Give me a day or two?
I hit send before I could second‑guess myself. The chat lit up with supportive emojis and quick assurances from Jungkook and V that they’d handle every last detail. But even as their messages popped in, I felt the weight of the decision ahead and all I could think about was him.
Two weeks. It had only been over two months apart, and somehow that felt longer than all the time we’d spent pretending to be something we weren’t. Or maybe we were pretending a little too well. Maybe that was the problem.
I told myself that If I was going, I was going to support a friend, that it was just one more act in our carefully choreographed performance. Nothing more.
But deep down, I wasn’t so sure anymore.
I stared at the screen, at the flurry of messages from two people who clearly knew something I didn’t want to admit. My heart thudded, not with fear, but with the quiet hope that maybe… just maybe… this time, the line between pretend and real might finally blur for good. This wasn’t just about showing up for Jin. It was about finding out what we’d really been pretending not to feel.
***
I hardly slept the night before my flight. Every hour I whispered Jin’s lines in my mind, matching my voice to his mellow tones until I could recite whole verses of “Moon” without stumbling. When morning came, I was trembling with excitement, with nerves, with a strange ache in my chest I’d never felt before.
At the airport, V’s text guided me through expedited security: “Just tell them you’re with Hybe VIP”, and sure enough, the moment I gave my name, the agent nodded, pulled a lanyard from his pocket, and ushered me through a private corridor. My heart hammered as I strode past ordinary travelers waiting in long lines.
The moment we touched down in LA, I felt a surge of adrenaline. Jungkook’s chauffeur was waiting by the gate in a sleek black SUV. At Staples Center that evening, the security detail at the stage door greeted me warmheartedly. “Ms. Y/N,” one said, checking his clipboard. “Right this way.” I followed him down a narrow hallway, my pulse thundering, until I emerged at the barricade where hardcore ARMY had already begun chanting. I slipped into a seat in the front row, heart in my throat as the lights dimmed.
When Jin strode onto the stage, spotlit against a backdrop of shimmering screens, it took my breath away. He moved with effortless grace, every gesture magnified by the crowd’s roar. His hair caught the light; his smile was electric.
I pressed both hands against the barricade, voice raw as I matched every note of the chorus. The lights pulsed around me, but all I could see was Jin’s silhouette moving across the stage, each gesture more mesmerizing than the last. My chest tightened with every lyric, memories of our late‑night calls weaving through the melody. I was singing not just as a fan, but as someone who had come to know every inflection of his voice by heart.
Midway through the set, Jin’s eyes swept the front rows, and for a heartbeat our gazes locked. He blinked, surprise flickering in his expression before the camera swung away. My heart thundered: he’d seen me I think.
When the drums hit the final crescendo, I let out a cry that merged with the audience’s roar. The lights brightened, signaling the encore, and I stood taller, wiping my cheeks and inhaling the electric atmosphere. Security guides reappeared at my side, offering me a cap and a discreet escort through a side entrance. Though I longed to stay lost in the music, I followed them down the narrow corridor, my heart still singing every line, every echo of his voice, knowing that this night, this moment of shared song, would stay with me long after the lights faded.
~~JIN’s POV~~
Jin’s heart was still hammering from the final chorus when the boys slipped backstage to celebrate the show. Suga was the first to spot his restless expression.
“You look like you saw a ghost,” Suga teased, handing Jin a bottle of water.
Jin shook his head, gaze distant. “Maybe I did,” he muttered. “I’m pretty sure I saw her, Y/N, down in the front row.”
The room quieted. Yoongi raised an eyebrow. “Y/N? Here?”
Jin swallowed hard. It sounded crazy even to his own ears. She was back home, he’d told himself a dozen times there was no way she’d have flown to LA. Yet when his eyes met hers…
He scanned the room. Jungkook and V were nowhere in sight. “Where is Jungkook and Tae?”
“Speak of the devil,” Namjoon murmured just before the door burst open. Jungkook and V stumbled in, breathless.
“Jin—Y/N’s, she's hurt!” Jungkook blurted. “A disguised sasaeng got past security, they followed her—"
V cut in, panic in his voice. “We’re sorry, hyung, we tried to make sure everything was safe but—”
Before they could finish, Jin was already racing down the hallway, adrenaline and fear lending wings to his feet. He didn’t wait for the others; all that mattered was finding her.
Corridor after corridor blurred by as Jin shouted her name. “Y/N! Y/N!” His voice echoed off concrete walls, a raw plea that carried him around corners and up flight after flight of stairs.
And then, there she was, framed by the stiff bodies of their security team. She stood clutching her arm, fabric pieces crumpled at her feet, eyes wide with surprise and relief.
“Y/N!” Jin exploded into her space, his arms wrapping around her before she could even speak. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”
She swallowed, voice trembling. “I’m okay. Just a scratch.”
But when Jin looked down, he saw the thin red line on her forearm, and fury flared in his chest. “Who did this to you?”
She stepped closer, pressing her forehead on his chest. “Calm down,” she whispered, voice gentle despite everything. “Can we talk somewhere more private?”
He nodded, heart still racing, not with fear now, but with love and relief. Jin slid his hand under hers, careful not to touch the scratch, and led her to the nearest open door, inside an empty dressing room.
~~Y/N’s POV~~
I poured out the story in a rush: how that sasaeng had slipped past security, mistook me for another celebrity, and grabbed my arm until the guards yanked them away. Jin closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his temple, tension rippling through his shoulders. “Why are you here?” he asked, voice tight. “I thought I was imagining you out there and now look at you, hurt.”
My pulse spiked. My words flew out, sharp and breathless. “Seriously? You’re scolding me after I’ve been attached? V and Jungkook planned this whole thing so I could surprise you. And you are yelling at me?”
He stared at the thin red line on my forearm, jaw clenched so tightly I could see each muscle in his neck. I pulled my arm back reflexively, anger and hurt warring in my chest. “You act like you don’t want me here,” I spat, voice low and trembling. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come at all.”
“No, I didn’t mean that,” Jin said, voice low and pleading. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s just… I never expected any of this to happen.”
I crossed my arms, fighting the tremor in my voice. “Well, sorry I wasn’t careful enough. Next time I’ll be more careful.”
He opened his mouth “Y/N—” .
“You know what? Actually, there won’t be a next time at all.” My chest felt tight as anger flared. “This was all a mistake.”
Jin’s eyes widened. He took a slow breath. “Y/N—”but I cut him off again.
I balled my fists at my sides, voice trembling. “How dense are you, Jin? I missed you so much that I flew all the way here—”
Before I could finish, Jin closed the distance between us in one quick step, his forehead coming to rest against mine, his hands cupping my face in them. His breath was warm, and I could feel the tension in his shoulders as he leaned in, so close I could almost taste him.
Then there was a timid knock at the door and we jolted apart. A pair of security guards peered in, eyes apologetic. “Sir, sorry to interrupt,” one said, holding up a first‑aid kit. “We brought supplies for her wound.”
Jin gave me one last charged look before turning to them. “Yeah,” he managed, voice husky. “Thank you.”
He scooped up the first‑aid kit and, without breaking eye contact, gently took my hand. His fingers curled around mine, warm and steady, as he led us out of the dressing room. Every step echoed through the narrow corridor, but with his hand in mine, the world felt impossibly small, just the two of us navigating the aftermath of the concert.
We rounded a corner and entered the common room, where the rest of the boys were scattered across couches and folding chairs in silence. Jin guided me to a vacant seat and set the kit in my lap. When he slipped the clean gauze over the scratch, his fingers brushed my skin so lightly it felt electric.
I swallowed, my pulse a rapid thrum in my ears. “Thank you,” I whispered, voice soft.
He paused, gaze lingering on mine for a moment that stretched between us like a held breath. Then, with that same gentle care, he wrapped tape around the bandage and slid the kit aside. He still held my hand, thumb stroking my knuckles.
Before either of us could say anything, the door creaked open and a couple of staff stepped in, breaking the moment.
"Alright, great work tonight, everyone," one of them said briskly. "Vans are waiting outside. Let’s get you all back to the hotel. Quick and quiet.”
Chairs scraped against the floor as the rest of the group slowly got to their feet, stretching and groaning. Jin finally let go of my hand, his fingers lingering for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away.
No one said much as we made our way out the back entrance. Flashing lights and distant cheers still echoed from outside the venue, but the staff had done a good job of clearing a private exit. Jin walked beside me in silence, close enough that our arms brushed once, twice, and then stayed that way.
The ride to the hotel was quiet. The van rolled to a stop beneath the hotel’s awning, headlights bouncing off the polished glass doors. Staff hurried forward with umbrellas even though the night was clear, shielding us from the flashing bulbs of the cameras lingering across the street. Jin was the first to step out, his hand brushing mine as if to anchor me before he straightened his shoulders and led the way inside.
The lobby was hushed and gleaming, the kind of place where every surface shone and every sound seemed to echo. I trailed close behind him, trying to ignore the twist in my chest as the others crowded the front desk.
One by one, keycards slid across the counter. Namjoon accepted his with a quiet nod, Yoongi pocketed his without looking up, Jimin yawned into his sleeve. Then Taehyung and Jungkook stepped forward, twin grins tugging at their mouths.
“Oh, right,” Taehyung said casually, plucking two cards from the stack. He handed one to Jin, then passed the other to Jungkook. “By the way, we didn’t book you a separate room, Y/N.”
My brows shot up. “What?”
Jungkook’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “We thought you’d want to stay with Jin.”
The words hung in the air, heavy and deliberate. My stomach flipped, heat rushing to my face. For a moment I couldn’t tell if I wanted to strangle them both or melt straight into the carpet.
Jin’s head snapped toward them, his ears already flushing red. “You what?” His voice cracked, sharp with disbelief.
Taehyung shrugged, completely unbothered. “What? It makes sense. Safer this way. Less hassle.”
Jungkook added, “Besides, you two looked pretty comfortable already.”
My mouth opened, then closed again, words tangling in my throat. The rest of the group shifted awkwardly around us, some pretending not to listen, others smirking at the tension.
Finally, Jin ran a hand through his hair, muttering something under his breath before turning toward me. His expression was caught between panic and determination, like he was preparing for battle.
“Come on,” he said quietly, holding out the key. “Let’s… just go up.”
I nodded, heart hammering, and followed him toward the elevators. My pulse was loud in my ears, each step pulling us closer to a confined space where there was no way to pretend the line between us hadn’t already started to blur.
The key clicked, and the door swung open to reveal one neatly made bed in the middle of the room. My stomach twisted, though I’d been bracing for it ever since Taehyung and Jungkook’s little smirks downstairs.
Jin stood frozen in the doorway, lips pressed together. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I couldn’t help it and a laugh slipped out. “This feels like déjà vu. First your childhood bedroom, now this. I’m starting to think the universe just wants us to share beds.”
He shifted his weight, scratching the back of his neck. “I can… sleep on the floor.”
I rolled my eyes. “Jin, it’s one night. We survived it before, we can survive it again.”
“Survived?” He raised an eyebrow. “You head-butted me. Just… ” he sighed, tugging at his collar, “this time, use words, okay? Not violence.”
I grinned, then nodded, and then Jin put our bags down by the chair. We moved around the room quietly, brushing teeth, changing clothes, plugging phones in. For a while we lay side by side, the silence stretching thin. I tried to close my eyes, but sleep wouldn’t come, not with the memory of the concert still pounding in my veins, not with Jin’s warmth so close I could feel it even across the gap.
He shifted beside me. Then again. Finally, his voice slipped through the dark, soft and uncertain.
“Hey,” he whispered. “You still awake?”
“Yeah” I whispered back.
A pause. His breath caught. “I keep… replaying it. Seeing you in the crowd. Then that sasaeng… ” His voice tightened, and I turned toward him. His eyes gleamed faintly in the spill of city light through the curtains. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that scared.”
Something in my chest ached. I reached out, brushing my fingers lightly against his arm. “But I’m fine. You found me. I’m here.”
He held my gaze, his expression raw, stripped of all his usual humor. “You don’t know what it did to me, seeing you hurt.”
My throat tightened. “Jin…” I whispered.
His lips pressed together, as if he was still holding back a storm. “I don’t want anything like that to ever happen to you again. Not while I’m here. I couldn’t… ” He broke off, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t forgive myself.”
My heart twisted, the weight of his words sinking deep. “You don’t have to carry all of that. I came because I wanted to. I knew the risks. And… I’d do it again.”
He blinked, surprise flashing across his face. “Even after tonight?”
“Especially after tonight,” I said softly. “Because I got to see you. Really see you.”
The air shifted, thicker, heavier. His chest rose and fell unevenly, his gaze locked on mine like he was searching for permission in every breath.
“Y/N…” His voice faltered, then steadied, lower now, almost a plea. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I can’t anymore. Not after all this. Not when you’re right here.”
I swallowed hard, pulse hammering. “Then don’t ignore it.”
He leaned closer, his forehead nearly brushing mine, eyes flicking from my lips back to my eyes. His voice cracked when he finally spoke, the words trembling but certain.
“Can I…?” he whispered, unsteady, gaze darting down to my mouth and back again.
I nodded, breathless.
His lips touched mine, tentative at first, then surer as I leaned in. The kiss deepened quickly, heat sparking in every nerve as his hand slid into mine under the blanket. I gasped softly, pulling him closer, and suddenly it wasn’t just a kiss, it was a storm. His mouth moved against mine with urgency, his other hand brushing up my arm, over my shoulder, until I thought my heart might burst.
I shifted closer, pressing against him, every part of me wanting more. My fingers curled into his shirt, tugging, wordless in my need. He let out a low sound, one that sent shivers down my spine, and before I realized it, I was straddling his hips, leaning over him as our mouths collided again and again.
His hands hovered at my waist, gripping and releasing like he was fighting with himself, torn between pulling me closer and pushing me away. My heart pounded as I kissed him harder, tasting the warmth of his breath, feeling the way he trembled beneath me.
“Y/N…” he murmured against my lips, his voice ragged.
I ignored the warning in his tone, desperate for more, deepening the kiss until my chest ached from the force of it. My hands slid up his chest, feeling the solid lines of muscle beneath the fabric, the rapid thud of his heartbeat matching mine.
For a few glorious seconds, he kissed me back with the same urgency, hungry, searching, like he’d been holding himself back for too long. But then, just as my fingers found the hem of his pants, he froze.
His lips stilled. His hands caught mine gently, halting my movements. “Y/N, wait.”
Breathless, I pulled back slightly, searching his face. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, but there was something else there.
“Why?” I whispered, my voice breaking.
He swallowed hard, forcing a shaky laugh. “Because… we shouldn’t rush this. Not tonight.” He shifted, sliding his hands from mine to rest firmly at my hips, stilling me. “We’ve got an early flight tomorrow, remember? And you need to rest. We both do.”
My chest tightened. “Jin—”
He shook his head, cutting me off softly. “It’s not that I don’t want to. Believe me, I do.” His thumb brushed absently against my hip, his voice low, almost pleading. “But I don’t want this to be because we’re tired and caught up in the moment. I want… the first time to matter. To feel right.”
I blinked at him, my heart aching at the earnestness in his tone. He wasn’t rejecting me. The disappointment still stung, but I forced myself to nod. “Okay,” I whispered.
Relief softened his face instantly. He pulled me down gently, pressing one last, tender kiss to my lips before guiding me back to lie beside him. His arm stayed draped around my waist, holding me close as if he couldn’t bear to let go completely.
“Sleep,” he murmured into my hair, voice thick. “We’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
And even though my body was still humming with everything unfinished, I let myself curl into him, eyes slipping shut to the sound of his heartbeat racing just as wildly as mine.
~~Jin’s POV~~
Her breathing evened out slowly against my chest, warm and steady, until I knew she was asleep. I lay there motionless, staring at the ceiling, though my mind refused to be still. My lips still tingled with the memory of her kiss, no, our kisses, too many to count, each one deeper, hungrier, more intoxicating than the last.
God, I almost let it happen.
When she climbed onto me, when her hands tugged at my shirt, I wanted nothing more than to give in, to forget myself and let the night swallow us whole. For a few minutes I did. I let myself taste what it would be like, to have her, to lose myself in her. And it was… overwhelming. Perfect and terrifying all at once.
But then the panic set in. The truth I’ve never told her, that I have no experience, that I wouldn’t know how to be what she deserved in that moment. The thought of disappointing her, of fumbling and ruining something so important, clenched in my chest until I had to stop.
So I lied. I told her we shouldn’t rush. I hid behind the excuse of the early flight, of needing rest, anything to cover the shame clawing at me.
Yet even now, with her sleeping soundly beside me, her hand resting trustingly against my chest, all I can think is how badly I want her. How every part of me aches at the thought of her disappointment, at the chance that she might believe I don’t want her when the truth is the opposite.
And worse, the fear that when she realizes I can’t compare to the others she’s known before me, that I’ll be clumsy, awkward, forgettable, she’ll grow bored. That one day she’ll wake up and decide I was never enough, and she’ll leave.
The thought twisted like a knife. I turned my head slightly, letting my eyes linger on her peaceful face in the dim glow from the window. She looked so soft like this, so unguarded, and my chest squeezed tight with fear and longing all tangled together.
I wanted to tell her. About me. About how this isn’t just some fleeting spark, about how the reason I held back wasn’t lack of desire, but lack of courage. But the words caught in my throat, too heavy, too dangerous.
So instead I tightened my arm around her, pulling her closer, as if holding her tighter could keep her here. My lips brushed her hair in the faintest kiss, my heart aching with the truth I couldn’t say.
~~Y/N’s POV~~
The weeks after LA blurred into a rhythm I didn’t know how to break. Jin and I fell into something that looked a lot like being in love with quiet mornings, lazy afternoons, and nights that always ended the same way.
One evening we were over at his parents’ house for dinner. We’d slipped into the kitchen to help clear dishes while his family’s laughter carried from the dining room. I was rinsing glasses when I felt him step up behind me, his hand brushing mine as he took the sponge.
“Go sit,” he murmured. “I’ll finish this.”
I turned, teasing. “What, and miss my chance to see the worldwide handsome doing dishes?”
His mouth tilted into that crooked smile, and before I could blink, he leaned down and kissed me. Just a brush at first, then deeper, hotter, until my back pressed against the counter. My breath hitched, fingers clutching his shirt, but then the clatter of silverware and his mother’s voice drifted closer. Jin pulled back so fast I nearly stumbled.
“We can’t,” he whispered, breathless, eyes darting to the doorway. “They’ll hear.”
Frustration burned, but I swallowed it, nodding stiffly.
Another time, we were at Taehyung’s place, waiting while everyone got ready to leave for dinner. The guys’ voices carried from the next room, muffled through the walls. Jin leaned against the hallway wall, and I couldn’t resist teasing him about his hoodie. He rolled his eyes, tugged me closer with a grin, and then his mouth was on mine feeling rushed, desperate, and his hands braced against the wall beside my head. The sound of Jungkook’s laughter made us jolt apart, hearts racing.
Jin tried to laugh it off, whispering, “Not the right time.”
Another night, at a house party with his friends, I slipped into the bathroom to wash my hands, closing the door behind me, only for it to crack open again as Jin slid inside.
“Jin—” I started, but he caught my wrist and pulled me against him. His kiss swallowed my protest, hot and unrestrained, his fingers tangling in my hair as the sink dug into my hip.
“God, you drive me crazy,” he muttered against my lips, the faint taste of gin on his breath.
“Then don’t stop,” I whispered, tugging him closer.
But he froze, chest heaving, and pulled back. “Someone might notice we’re gone…”
The excuse again. Always the excuse. I bit down hard on my lip, nodding, but inside frustration simmered hotter each time he left me wanting.
The “fake marriage reception” was tomorrow. A small gathering, just families and close friends would enough to satisfy everyone’s questions, enough to get our parents off our backs. My parents decided to host a dinner with the Kims the night before to celebrate. The evening stretched late, full of laughter and careful glances between Jin and me. When it finally ended, Jin insisted on driving me home. The car hummed quietly as the city lights slid past, the weight of tomorrow pressing down on both of us.
Finally, I broke the silence. “It’s weird, isn’t it? How real it all feels, even though it’s supposed to be fake.”
His grip tightened on the wheel. “It does feel real.”
I turned to him, heart pounding. “Then what are we doing, Jin? Is this all still just for show? Or is it… us?”
He glanced at me, eyes raw. “It started as pretend. But… I don’t think I can call it that anymore. Even if we can’t exactly come clean about it now.”
Warmth spread through my chest, tangled with ache. “Is that why you keep pulling back?”
He exhaled, knuckles whitening around the steering wheel. “No. It’s not that. But once we cross that line, it stops being safe. And if I screw this up… I will lose you completely.”
The car pulled up to my building. The air between us thickened, charged. I reached out, covering his hand with mine. “Stay tonight,” I whispered.
His eyes darted to mine, wide. “Y/N…”
I leaned closer, lips brushing his ear. “No excuses this time.”
For a heartbeat, I thought he’d give in. His breath hitched, his hand trembled beneath mine. But then he pulled away, shaking his head. “I can’t.”
Anger flared, sharp and hot. “You never can. You always stop. Do you even want me, Jin? Or is this just a game to you?”
His face crumpled, pained. “Of course I want you. More than you know.” He paused, swallowing hard. “But I can’t give you what you deserve. I’ve never…” His voice broke. “I’ve never done this before. With anyone.”
My breath caught. The confession hit harder than I expected. “You mean…?”
He nodded, shame flickering across his face. “I’m a virgin, okay? And I’m terrified I’ll disappoint you. That you’ll get bored. That you’ll leave.”
The world tilted. My anger ebbed, replaced by shock, tenderness, and something that felt dangerously close to love.
“Jin,” I whispered, reaching for his hand. “That’s not how this works. That’s not what I want.”
But he shook his head, pulling his hand free. Before I could say more, he leaned across the console and kissed me softly, lingering just long enough to make my chest ache.
“Goodnight,” he whispered, his breath warm against my lips.
For a moment, I wanted to argue, to beg him not to leave things like this. But instead, I sat back, swallowing hard. Maybe pushing now would only drive him further away. So I nodded, even though it felt like defeat. I got out of the car and I stood there in the wash of streetlight watching him drive away.
***
The reception venue buzzed with the hum of arriving guests, clinking glasses, and muffled laughter drifting through the walls, but in my private dressing room, silence pressed in on me. I sat at the edge of the vanity chair, fingers worrying the hem of my dress, the knot in my chest pulling tighter with every passing minute. Jin hadn’t said a word to me since last night. Not on the drive, not when our families greeted each other, not even when staff ushered us to our separate prep rooms.
The door clicked open, and my breath caught. Jin slipped inside, closing it softly behind him. His suit was perfect, tie straightened now, hair swept neatly back, but his eyes carried the same storm I’d seen in the car.
“It’s all set,” he said quietly. “The documents are fake. No real signatures, no records filed. After tonight, there won’t be any legal repercussions.”
I nodded stiffly, staring at my hands. “So it’s just another performance.”
He hesitated. “That’s what this was always supposed to be.”
My laugh came out sharp, bitter. “Then why does it feel like anything but?” I looked up at him, heat rising in my chest. “Weeks of this, Jin. Weeks of kisses, touches, and then you stop. Every time. Do you know what that does to me?”
His jaw tightened. “I stop because I… ”
“Because you’re a virgin.” The words left me flat, heavy. His confession from last night still rang in my ears. “Still, you make me feel unwanted.” My voice cracked, raw and unfiltered. “And I know you care, I know you’re trying, but when you pull away again and again, I can’t help but think maybe this whole thing isn’t real for you. Maybe I’m just convenient.”
His eyes flashed, wounded. “That’s not true.”
“Then what is true?” I demanded. “Because right now I don’t know if you want me, or if I’m just pretending so well that you don’t have to.”
The silence between us stretched taut. My throat burned. Finally, I stood, smoothing my dress with shaking hands. “Forget it. Let’s just get this over with. The sooner we smile and cut the cake, the sooner this is behind us.”
I reached for the doorknob, but before I could twist it, Jin’s hand slammed against the wood beside mine. The door rattled, then clicked shut as he turned the lock. My breath caught as his body pressed close, pinning me in place.
“Don’t say that,” he said, voice low, rough at the edges. His eyes burned into mine, fierce and unyielding. “Don’t ever think I don’t want you. Do you know how hard it’s been, holding myself back? Every time I stop, it’s not because I don’t want you, it’s because I want you too much.”
My lips parted, words tangling, but he didn’t give me the chance. His mouth found mine, urgent, consuming, years of restraint snapping all at once. His hands framed my face, slid down to my waist, pulling me flush against him as if he couldn’t bear the space between us.
I gasped into the kiss, clutching his lapels, the air charged and dizzying. When he broke away just long enough to murmur, “Let me show you,” my knees nearly gave out.
And then he dropped, sinking down in front of me. My heart thundered, every nerve alive, as his hands gripped my hips, anchoring me to the door. He tilted his head back, eyes locking with mine, voice low and rough.
“We can stop if you want to.”
A disbelieving laugh burst from me, half-shaky, half-angry. “Are you serious right now? After weeks of this? You better not tease me, Jin. For once in your life, just finish what you started.”
For a beat, the tension between us hovered, electric. Then his mouth curved into the faintest grin, that familiar mischief slipping through. He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest.
“Then put your leg up on my shoulder, baby,” he murmured, his hands sliding lower to guide me.
Heat surged through me, my breath catching as every ounce of frustration unraveled into anticipation. I obeyed without hesitation.
His hands slipped beneath my dress, rough palms gliding up my thighs like he’d been starved for this, starved for me. When his fingers brushed the edge of my underwear, he paused, exhaling a breath that sent heat pulsing straight through me. “Lace,” he whispered, voice low and reverent.
I opened my mouth to respond, but only a sharp inhale escaped as his thumbs hooked the waistband. He looked up, eyes dark and steady. “I’m not leaving this room until I’ve tasted every inch of you.”
I didn’t say a word.
Slowly, deliberately, he slid the fabric down with his teeth. The lace slipped past my hips, thighs, knees, until it dropped to the floor like a silent surrender. He took a moment, eyes locked on me like I was something sacred.
His hands returned to my hips. He glanced up once, eyes burning. “I’ve imagined this,” he muttered, almost to himself. “Too many times. And it never came close to this.”
Then his mouth found me and everything inside me scattered.
I gasped, the sound loud in the quiet room, but he only hummed, pleased. “Yeah,” he said, voice rough against my core. “That’s it. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
My head hit the door behind me, one hand clawing for balance, the other tangling in his hair. He didn’t relent, slow and thorough, every movement of his mouth purposeful, not just to please me but to memorize me.
“You’re already shaking,” he said with a breathless laugh, pride thick in his voice. “Didn’t think I’d get you this fast.”
“Jin—”
His name was a warning, or a plea, I couldn’t tell.
“You always get like this?” he murmured, kissing higher, softer. “Or is it just me?”
I whimpered, biting my lip. He grinned against my skin. “Thought so.”
Then he deepened it.
“Hold on,” he said, lifting my second leg to his other shoulder. His hands gripped and kneaded my hips, steadying me while pushing his tongue even deeper.
Every growl and whispered word broke me open in the best way. Weeks of pent-up frustration crashed over me as my orgasm hit hard and fast when Jin sucked on my clit.
He didn’t stop, licking me out, draining every inch of me.
“Fuck, baby, you taste so good. Wish I’d tasted you sooner.”
He lowered one leg slowly but kept holding my hips like he knew I’d fall without him. I was about to speak, maybe scold him for making me wait so long, when his hand slid between my legs.
Two fingers slipped inside me, smooth and deep.
The moan that tore from me wasn’t mine. My body arched beneath him.
“Fuck,” he whispered, resting his head briefly against my thigh. “You’re still so wet.”
He moved inside me, slow and devastating. I wanted to protest, but he looked up, reading my mind.
“You’re gonna come again for me,” he said, voice low and thick. “I want to feel you fall apart on my hand. I want to see you come undone by me.”
The sight was almost too much. Him on his knees, lips glistening, eyes pleading and hungry. I clenched around him, tension unbearable.
“That’s it,” he murmured, curling his fingers just right. “Come on, baby. Give it to me.”
And I did.
My entire body locked, then shattered. The second orgasm tore through me even harder than the first, wave after wave of heat and light, crashing through my veins.
He held me through all of it with his mouth, his fingers, his voice. Anchoring me. Worshiping me. Breaking me open.
And when I finally came down, breathless and half-gone, he pressed a kiss to my inner thigh before getting up. I sagged against the door, trembling, barely able to catch my breath. My legs felt like water, my chest rising and falling in jagged bursts. A breathless laugh escaped me, shaky and disbelieving. “You’re telling me you’re a virgin? No chance. Not after that.”
His lips quirked, but his eyes were soft, almost shy. “I wasn’t lying," he said, standing slowly, his hands steadying me as he rose. “I barely slept last night. I spent hours reading, watching, studying… anything I could. Because I wanted to be good for you. I wanted to please you.”
My chest tightened, the ache almost too much. He’d done all of this just to give me what I needed, to prove I wasn’t unwanted.
When he stepped closer, the heat of his body pressing against mine, I felt it, the hard, insistent proof of his arousal against my hip. My breath caught, my fingers twitching at his waistband. “Let me take care of you now,” I whispered, lips brushing his jaw. “You deserve—”
But he caught my wrist gently, shaking his head. His forehead pressed to mine, his voice low but firm. “Not here. Not yet. If we start, I won’t be able to stop. And we can’t walk into that reception looking like… this.” His thumb stroked over my knuckles, a small, grounding gesture. “We’ll get through this. Just a few hours. Then we’ll be free of all of it: the questions, the parents, the act. And then…” His mouth curved into a small, wicked smile. “Then I’m all yours.”
***
The lights of the reception hall hit me like a spotlight when we finally walked in together, Jin’s hand steady against the small of my back. Applause rose from our families, glasses clinking, cameras flashing on phones, but all I could think about was the way his hands had gripped my hips against the dressing room door.
My smile felt pasted on, brittle around the edges. My parents were beaming, his parents glowing, relatives reaching out to congratulate us as if this was anything but a script. I nodded, laughed when I was supposed to, let Jin pull out my chair beside his. But every time I blinked, I saw him on his knees. Every polite toast blurred into the echo of his voice in my ear: That’s it, come on, baby. Give it to me.
I could still feel the phantom pressure of his fingers, the heat of his mouth, the way my body had betrayed me completely under his touch. My pulse jumped whenever his thigh brushed mine beneath the table, my skin prickling with memory.
“Y/N,” my mother’s voice cut in, snapping me back. She was smiling at me from across the table. “You look so radiant tonight.”
“Th-thank you,” I stammered, cheeks burning for reasons she couldn’t possibly know. Jin’s hand found mine under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but even that simple touch sent sparks racing through me.
I stole a glance at him beside me, his jaw sharp in the warm light, his expression calm and composed for everyone else. Only I knew what lay beneath, the man who’d unraveled me completely behind a locked door not an hour ago.
I shifted in my seat, forcing another smile at some well-meaning relative who asked when we planned to honeymoon, while all I could think was how much longer I had to sit here pretending when every nerve in my body was still humming from Jin.
~~JIN’s POV~~
By the time they finally escaped the reception and drove back to Jin’s place, his whole body was buzzing. Not from the champagne or the endless congratulations, but from her. Every glance, every brush of her hand, every reminder of what had happened in that dressing room.
Inside, the quiet felt like a blessing. He loosened his tie and turned to her with a smile that felt more real than any he’d worn all night.
“Go change into something comfortable,” he told her. “I’ll grab some glasses, pour us a drink. We should toast… to pulling this off, to not having to sit through any more arranged dinners. To finally focusing on what we want.”
Her eyes softened, something unreadable flickering there, but she nodded and disappeared down the hall toward his room. Jin busied himself in the kitchen, twisting open a bottle of champagne, the fizz rising in the neck as he poured carefully into two glasses. His heart was still racing, some part of him couldn’t shake the image of her earlier, flushed and undone, the sound of her voice when she begged him not to stop.
Then her voice floated down the hall. “Jin? Can you help me for a second?”
He set the glasses aside and wiped his palms against his slacks before heading to the bedroom. He pushed the door open slowly.
“Need help with the zipper?” he started, then forgot how to speak.
She wasn’t struggling with the dress. The dress was gone.
She lay across his bed in a white lace set, delicate straps hugging her skin, the sheer fabric leaving almost nothing to the imagination. His breath stopped cold in his chest. Her gaze caught his, steady, full of a heat he had only dreamed of, and she smiled slow, dangerous, sure of herself.
“I don’t need help with the dress,” she said softly, her voice like silk. “I wanted you to see me. To really see me. And to let me show you what it feels like to be with me. For real.”
His pulse thundered so loudly he thought it might shake the walls. His throat was dry, his hands frozen at his sides, but his entire body leaned toward her as if pulled by gravity itself.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, the lace shifting with the movement, and tilted her head. “You’ve given me so much already, Jin. Let me return the favor.”
He swallowed hard, torn between panic and desire, the war raging inside him. She looked devastating, confident, and so sure of what she wanted and all he could think was that she deserved better than his hesitation.
“Y/N…” His voice broke on her name.
She slid off the bed and came toward him, every step deliberate, until she stood inches away. Her hand rose, light as air, resting against his chest. “You don’t have to be afraid,” she whispered. “You don’t have to hold back anymore.”
Jin wasn’t sure he could move until she guided him, pushing his jacket from his shoulders, the fabric whispering to the floor. Her knuckles skimmed his collarbone as she undid the top buttons of his shirt. Every small, deliberate touch stole another breath from him.
“If anything feels too fast,” she murmured, “you tell me. I’ll stop. I’ll do this how you need.”
He nodded, because words had abandoned him. She kissed him, slowly at first, like they had all the time in the world. The kiss deepened. His hands found her waist on instinct. The lace under his palms made him shiver.
She tugged him back until he hit the edge of the mattress and sat. She stayed standing between his knees, and the angle forced his head back so he had to look up at her. She smiled, soft and wicked all at once, then climbed over him, straddling his lap in one fluid motion that turned his pulse feral.
“Breathe,” she whispered, and he did, because she asked him to.
Her mouth traced along his jaw, the corner of his throat; her thumbs stroked slow circles at his hips. When he tensed, she felt it immediately and paused, eyes lifting to his.
“Still with me?”
“Yeah.” His throat worked. “Don’t… don’t stop.”
She kissed him again, guiding his hands, showing him where to touch, how to hold her. His fingers trembled as they traced the curve of her ribs, and her breath caught as he grazed the edge of her bra. Her chest rose against him, and she shivered when he followed the line of her collarbone. Her hands moved to his, guiding them to the clasp of her bra. The gentle click of the hook echoed in the quiet room, somehow heavier than it should have been.
He slid the straps down her shoulders, revealing more of her to him, inch by inch. His heart raced as he reached out, hands trembling slightly as they cupped her, warm skin beneath his fingertips.
She gasped, arching into him. He leaned down to kiss her again, his lips rough against hers. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice raw as his mouth trailed lower, along her neck, to the swell of her breast. He took one nipple in his mouth while his fingertips still played with the other.
Her moan vibrated through him, undoing every last piece of restraint. When her hands slipped lower, undoing his pants, Jin’s pulse skittered. She tugged the fabric down, and when he was finally bare, her eyes widened. Then she laughed, low and breathless, biting her lip.
He froze, stomach twisting. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her smirk betrayed her. “Just… so I guess the whole ‘king size’ rumor wasn’t a lie after all.”
Heat surged up his neck. “You know about that?”
“Jin, it’s a top five search result. I’m shocked you’ve kept this hidden from the world,” she teased, gaze flicking down and back again. “Seriously, how have you never even had fun with girls? Seems like a waste.”
He wanted to hide, but she was too close, too warm. He swallowed, voice rough. “Work. Music. The group. It was always everything, all at once. There wasn’t room for… distractions like that. And…” He hesitated, forcing the words out. “People don’t really approach me that way. Not seriously. Half of them are scared off before they even try.”
Her expression softened, the teasing fading into something warmer. She reached up, brushing her thumb across his cheekbone. “Their loss,” she whispered.
Her hand slipped lower, closing around him, and he nearly buckled from the shock of it. His head dropped forward against her shoulder, a rough sound escaping his throat.
“It’s okay, Jin” she whispered into his ear, her voice steady where his body was anything but. “You can let go.”
He wanted to last, to give her everything she deserved, but the intensity of her touch, the way she whispered his name, pushed him past his limits too quickly. He tensed, stifling a groan, shame burning through him even as pleasure tore him apart. He came all over her hand still clinging around him, making a mess out of both. When he stopped trembling, his breath was ragged, his forehead pressed to hers. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, mortified. “God, Y/N, I didn’t mean to…”
She cupped his face, pulling him back so he had to meet her eyes. “Don’t apologize,” she said softly, firmly. “It’s supposed to be like this for the first time. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Her words steadied him. The knot in his chest loosened and she kissed him again. She quickly got up to grab some tissues from the nightstand and cleaned them up.
After a few minutes, his breathing evened out. She smiled softly, her voice barely a whisper, “Let’s try again.”
She didn’t have to say it twice. Something ignited inside him, and before she knew it, he was on his feet, pulling her up and urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. She did, a small chuckle escaping her lips that made him smile in return. He kissed her for a moment like that, before gently laying her back down on the bed. This time, they kissed slower, more deliberately.
Every kiss felt deeper, filled with more passion. Each time they connected, Jin could feel his desire growing, could sense hers as well. She bucked her hips upward, trying to draw him closer, to get him where she needed him to be.
"Please, Jin," she whispered, arching higher into him, her hips grinding against his. Her warmth enveloped him, sending shivers of anticipation down his spine. Jin gasped, a part of him aching to be inside her, to let himself be consumed by her completely. But then, just as things started to build, a thought crashed through his mind.
"Shit," he muttered, pulling back slightly. "I don’t have any condoms in the house." Panic flickered in his eyes, but she just laughed softly, turning her head toward his bedside table. “I knew you wouldn’t,” she teased, her voice laced with affection. “Don’t worry, I brought some. They’re in the first drawer.”
“Ugh, thank you…” he exhaled in relief, moving to grab one. Y/N took the wrapper from his hand, tearing it open with her teeth without breaking eye contact. She slid the condom onto him, her hands slow, deliberate, as she positioned him exactly where she had wanted him for so long. Her touch was gentle as she guided him, easing him inside her inch by inch. Jin couldn’t help but gasp at the overwhelming heat, the tightness that gripped him so completely. His hands dug into her hips, holding onto her like a lifeline, every nerve screaming at him to hold on, to not rush.
Slowly, his body began to move, and soon his instincts took over. He found a rhythm, letting the tension between them build. Her head fell back, a low moan escaping her lips as she dug her nails lightly into his shoulders.
“Jin,” she whispered, the sound like a plea. “Yes… just like that.”
The sound of her voice, thick with need, shattered his restraint. Her breath hitched in a soft, desperate plea, and Jin felt the world narrow down to just her. He kissed her neck, his lips trailing down the smooth column of her throat, savoring the way her pulse fluttered under his touch. His hands roamed, fingertips grazing her skin as though trying to memorize every inch of her. She gasped, her back arching beneath him, and he followed, kissing her jaw, nipping at her earlobe before claiming her lips again in a deep, insistent kiss.
Every tremor of her body was a signal, every breath she took a pull on his desire, urging him to move faster, to dive deeper into her. He could hear the soft, broken moans she tried to stifle, the way her hands gripped his shoulders like she was afraid he'd slip away, even though neither of them wanted that.
“Jin, harder please...” she whispered against his lips, her voice a hushed plea for more, for all of him. His rhythm grew more frantic, more desperate, as though everything inside him was breaking free.
"Jin... yes, right there... keep going..." Her words were barely more than a breathless murmur, but they lit a fire inside him, urging him forward.
When she finally shattered beneath him, her body arching up into his with a loud, breathless cry, everything inside him went still for a moment. Her hands tightened in the sheets, her chest pressing into his as she came undone, every muscle in her body trembling from the force of her release. She pulled him in closer, as though trying to keep him locked inside her forever. His name fell from her lips like a prayer.
The sound of her pleasure, the sight of her in that moment, pushed him over the edge. Jin followed her, his own release crashing through him like a tidal wave. He gripped her tighter, his entire body locked against hers as if they could become one. He felt her fingers digging into his skin, her chest rising and falling with the same ragged breaths he was taking.
This time, there was no shame. No hesitation. No regret. He didn’t pull away afterward, didn’t let himself get lost in the noise in his head. All he felt was an overwhelming sense of completion. Like every piece of him had fallen into place, like he’d stepped into something that had been waiting for him all along. Something he could never walk away from.
***
~~Y/N’s PV~~ (Two years later)
Jin’s hand was warm in mine as we walked down the busy street, his thumb brushing lazy circles over my skin the way he always did when he was trying to distract me from asking too many questions. He’d been annoyingly secretive all week, insisting he had “something planned,” and now here we were, weaving through the late afternoon crowd while he wore that mischievous smile I both loved and dreaded.
We’d been like this for two years now. Two years of kisses that never stopped, of late-night ramen runs, of mornings tangled in each other’s arms. Two years of building a life together while our parents still believed in the façade of a marriage that technically never existed. The only thing fake left between us was that one detail: the paper they thought was real but never was. Everything else had become real in ways I’d never imagined.
My phone dinged, cutting through the hum of the city. I glanced down, expecting an email or a text, but my chest tightened when I saw the calendar reminder flashing across the screen.
“Fake Marriage Contract Ends!! Announce Divorce.”
I stopped walking for a second, my stomach flipping. I had completely forgotten I’d set that up two years ago, back when this all felt like a temporary arrangement instead of… whatever it had grown into.
I laughed, shoving the phone toward him. “Can you believe I still have this reminder? Today was supposed to be the big day of our divorce.’”
Jin didn’t even flinch. His grip on my hand tightened, and he gave me that quiet, knowing smile. “I know.”
My brow furrowed. “You… know?”
“That’s why we’re going where we’re going,” he said simply, tugging me forward before I could ask more.
I followed, my confusion mounting as we turned a corner and he led me toward a tall building I hadn’t paid attention to before. The glass doors slid open, and the cool air hit my face as we stepped inside. I blinked, looking around at rows of counters, the faint murmur of clerks, people shuffling papers.
“Wait…” My laugh came out awkward, nervous. “Jin. This is a civil building. You know we’re not actually married, right? So we don’t need to be here to file a divorce.”
He stopped walking, turning to face me. The seriousness in his eyes made my chest tighten. “Y/N…”
I cut him off, panic rising. “Oh my God, you’re not breaking up with me like this, are you? Jin, that’s not funny. I swear if this is some kind of twisted joke, I’ll…”
He laughed then, the sound warm and unshaken, pulling me right out of my spiral. His hands came up to cradle my face, thumbs brushing gently along my cheeks. “No. No, baby. I’m not breaking up with you. I love you!”
I blinked up at him, heart still racing, confusion warring with relief. “Then what are we doing here?”
His smile softened, and I saw it then, the nerves hiding behind his calm, the way his fingers trembled just slightly where they touched my skin.
“We’re not here to get a fake divorce,” he said, his voice low, steady, sure. He took a breath, and then his eyes locked with mine. “We’re here to get married. For real this time.”
Summary: Jin of BTS has mastered the stage, but at 34, he's losing the battle at home, his mother won't stop pushing him toward marriage. When she arranges an "innocent" dinner with the daughter of a longtime family friend, Jin is furious. He has no time for romance, let alone an arranged setup. But fate throws him off balance when he meets Y/N, a sharp, ambitious woman who has no interest in being tied down either. From awkward encounters and fiery banter to a shocking proposal of a fake marriage, the two find themselves caught between family expectations and their own desires. What begins as a scheme to free themselves from relentless matchmaking soon stirs something real, something neither of them planned for. Love, duty, and deception collide in this slow-burn romance. Can Jin and Y/N keep up the act, or will the lines between pretense and passion blur beyond repair?
A/N: This story has been sitting in my drafts for a long time, and I’m so excited to finally share it. Since Tumblr won’t let me post it all at once, I’ve had to split it into two parts, even though it’s technically a one-shot 🥺. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I loved writing it! Feel free to share your thoughts 💕
Jin sat at the dining table of his parents home, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. His mother bustled around the kitchen, her every movement deliberate as she prepared breakfast. The aroma of doenjang-jjigae filled the air, but Jin’s appetite seemed absent. He stared into his coffee, swirling it absentmindedly.
“Jin-ah,” his mother began, her tone light but her words carefully measured. “You’re 34 now, a full-grown man, and yet, you’re still single.”
Jin groaned, sinking deeper into his chair. “Eomma, we’ve been over this. I’ve been busy with work. It’s not like I’m avoiding marriage on purpose.”
“Busy or not, it’s time to think about your future,” she said, setting a plate of banchan in front of him. “Your father and I worry about you. What will you do when you’re older? Who will take care of you?”
Jin took a deep breath, bracing himself for the conversation he knew was inevitable. “Eomma, I can take care of myself just fine.”
“Aigoo, you say that now, but life is better with a partner. And your father and I have someone in mind.” She smiled knowingly, placing her hands on her hips. “The daughter of the Y/L/N family.”
Jin’s eyes widened. “The Y/L/N family? That family who came over once during Chuseok?”
His mother nodded, her face lighting up with excitement. “Exactly! They have a daughter, Y/N, who is a lovely girl. She’s been to America for the past decade. She’s back in Korea for good now and still single, just like you. She’s smart, beautiful, and comes from a good family.”
Jin rubbed his temples, trying to process the information. “Eomma, are you seriously trying to set me up in an arranged marriage? This isn’t the Joseon era.”
“It’s not an arranged marriage,” she countered, her voice softening. “Think of it as an introduction. You’ll meet her, spend some time together, and see if there’s a spark. No pressure.”
“No pressure?” Jin repeated, raising an eyebrow. “This is you we’re talking about, Eomma. If I even as much as smile at her, you’ll start planning the wedding.”
She laughed, brushing off his comment. “Nonsense. I just want you to be happy. And trust me, Y/N is perfect for you. Her parents think so too. They are coming over this weekend for dinner”.
Jin sighed, shaking his head. “No, Eomma. I’m not doing this. I already have a schedule for work this weekend, and I won’t be able to come.” He stood up, pushing his chair back with a frustrated scrape against the floor.
His mother’s expression hardened slightly, though her tone remained calm. “Jin-ah, you’re going to meet her whether you like it or not. I’ve already invited them over, and her parents are making sure she comes too.”
Jin froze for a moment before exhaling sharply. “Eomma, I said no. I’ll figure out my own life when I’m ready.” Without another word, he grabbed his coffee and left the room, leaving his mother staring after him with a mixture of determination and concern.
Later that day, Jin walked into the dressing room where the other BTS members were gathered. The sound of laughter filled the air as they lounged on the couches, scrolling through their phones and chatting. Taehyung was mid-sentence when he spotted Jin and grinned.
“Hyung, you look like you’ve just come from war. What happened?”
Jin plopped down onto a chair with a dramatic sigh. “My mom is at it again.”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess…marriage talk?”
“Bingo,” Jin replied, rubbing his temples. “She’s trying to set me up with some old family friend’s daughter. Apparently, they’re bringing her over this weekend.”
The room erupted into laughter.
“You’re the oldest of us, hyung,” Jimin teased. “Of course she’s going to push you now that your older brother is already settled, the rest of us still have time.”
Hoseok leaned forward, his grin mischievous. “Here’s what you should do: go to the dinner, but act rude enough that they don’t want their daughter to marry you. Problem solved.”
“That’s terrible advice,” Namjoon said, though he was clearly holding back a laugh. “But... also effective.”
Jin groaned. “No, I’m not going. She’s done this before, you know. A couple of years ago, she set me up with someone, and it turned out the girl was a lesbian, forced by her parents to meet me. It was awkward as hell.”
“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, eyes wide.
“Yeah. Who knows what kind of strings my mom pulled this time? I mean, I’ve met the Y/L/N family before, but that was like years ago, only the parents nothing more. Since I’ve been an idol ever since, I have never met them again. It’s just... awkward. Hell no, I’m not going.”
Taehyung smirked, slinging an arm around Jin’s shoulders. “Hyung, just think of it as fan service. Charm her parents, and then ghost them after.”
“Fan service?” Jin scoffed, pushing him off. “This isn’t a concert.”
“Still,” Yoongi said, “it might be easier to just go along with it than to keep fighting your mom. She’s persistent.”
“Persistent is an understatement,” Jin muttered. “But no. I’m not doing it. End of story.”
The following days passed in a blur of tight schedules and rehearsals. The group was preparing for an upcoming photoshoot, along with dance practice for a special performance. As the oldest, Jin worked hard to keep up with the younger members, his professionalism intact despite the lingering frustration over his mother’s plans.
“Hyung, your footwork was off during the second verse,” Jungkook pointed out after their fifth run-through of the choreography.
“Off?” Jin raised an eyebrow, wiping sweat from his forehead with a towel. “It’s called artistic improvisation.”
“It’s called being lazy,” Jimin teased, dodging a playful swat from Jin.
“Let’s take five,” Hoseok called out, noticing everyone’s tired expressions.
As they sat down, Namjoon glanced at Jin. “You good? You’ve been spacing out.”
“Yeah, just... family stuff,” Jin replied, not elaborating further.
***
It was Sunday afternoon and Jin was finally enjoying a rare moment of peace when his phone buzzed insistently on the coffee table. He picked it up, noting the caller ID: Hyung.
“Hey,” Jin answered, leaning back on the couch.
“Jin-ah, I need your help,” his older brother said, his voice tinged with urgency. “Eomma’s not feeling well, probably overexerted herself again, and I have to pick up my kids from kindergarten. Can you come over? I’ll explain more when you get here.”
Jin sat upright, concern flashing across his face. “What? Is she okay? Did she see a doctor?”
“She’s fine, just resting, but I can’t leave her alone. Can you come or not?”
“I’ll be there,” Jin replied without hesitation.
Jin pulled up to the ground floor of the parking complex beneath his family’s building within 30 minutes. He noticed a car parked in a spot that belonged to his family, and his brows furrowed in curiosity. Before he could ponder further, his eyes caught movement at the trunk.
A woman stood there, struggling to balance a large tray covered with what seemed to be an assortment of dishes and a stack of neatly wrapped gift boxes. She was dressed impeccably, her hair pinned up in a neat bun, but the way she teetered under the load made it clear she was fighting to keep everything from toppling over.
Jin climbed out of his car and shut the door, the sound catching her attention. She glanced up briefly, her expression neutral but focused, before looking back at the precarious tray in her hands. Jin adjusted his mask, which covered most of his face, before walking toward her, noting how her eyes briefly flicked to him before she continued her careful balancing act.
“Need some help?” Jin offered, stepping toward her.
“I’ve got it,” she replied quickly, her tone polite but firm.
Jin paused, crossing his arms as he watched her adjust her grip on the tray. “Are you sure about that? Because it looks like those boxes are seconds away from becoming street art.”
“I said I’ve got it,” she repeated, her voice clipped this time. She tilted her chin defiantly, clearly intent on managing on her own.
Jin chuckled softly to himself and shook his head. “Alright, suit yourself.”
He turned toward the elevator, his hands slipping casually into his pockets.
As he pressed the button to call the elevator, he glanced back one more time, watching the woman struggle to maneuver the heavy tray through the door. A small smirk tugged at his lips, and he couldn’t help but shake his head, muttering to himself, “Some people just don’t know when to accept help.”
He stepped into the elevator once it arrived, leaving her behind.
A few moments later, the elevator doors closed, and Jin leaned against the wall with a soft sigh. Not long after Jin entered his family’s apartment, the lights dimmed, and the quiet atmosphere quickly enveloped him. He called out casually as he kicked off his shoes, “Hyung? Mom?” But there was no response.
As Jin walked deeper into the living room, he heard laughter coming from the kitchen. Curious, he followed the sound, pushing the door open gently.What he saw made him freeze.
The kitchen was full of people. His parents, his older brother, and his brother’s wife, along with their children. Seokjin’s gaze shifted to the other side of the room, where the Y/L/N family sat. The sight was a little overwhelming, and his eyes quickly fell on the two empty chairs at the table, which seemed to have been left intentionally open.
Before he could process everything, the woman from the elevator, Y/N, walked past him, entering the room with an air of confidence. She greeted the group with a smooth, practiced tone.
“Hello, everyone,” she said, her attention immediately focused on the people in the room. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you all.” Her presence filled the space, and she fit right in as the conversation shifted to accommodate her effortlessly.
Seokjin’s mother looked up, her expression lighting up in recognition. “Ah, you’re here! Good, good,” she said with warmth, giving a nod of approval to Y/N. The group’s attention turned toward her as she smiled back.
Just then, Seokjin’s mother caught sight of him standing at the doorway, and her eyes widened slightly. “Oh? So, have you two met already?” she said, her voice filled with genuine surprise. “Wow, fate really does work fast, doesn’t it? I was worried you might need more time, but it looks like everything’s coming together nicely.”
Seokjin felt an immediate pang of disbelief and frustration. He blinked, a sense of betrayal creeping up inside him, but he masked it quickly, not letting it show on his face. His mother’s words rang in his ears, and his mind raced. He glanced from her to Y/N, still processing the coincidence and the weight of the situation he suddenly found himself in.
Seokjin’s mother continued, her voice filled with amusement, unaware of his internal turmoil. “Seokjin, this is Y/N. The daughter of the Y/L/N family I’ve been telling you about,” she said with a smile, casting a knowing look toward her son. A soft smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. “I’m sure you two will get along just fine.”
Seokjin’s stomach tightened. He wasn’t sure if he was more surprised or irritated, but he was definitely overwhelmed. He glanced briefly at Y/N, who caught his gaze for a moment, her expression unreadable, before turning her attention back to the others.
Feeling the pressure building in the room, Seokjin instinctively removed his mask as he approached the Y/L/N family, trying to play it off with a forced smile. “Hello,” he greeted them, his voice steady despite the swirl of emotions inside. He bowed his head slightly in respect, and while his greeting was polite, there was a certain wariness in his eyes that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone.
Seokjin exhaled quietly, trying to steady himself. His thoughts raced, but on the surface, he gave nothing away. He caught his older brother’s eye for a moment, and his brother mouthed a small "sorry" before looking away, clearly aware of how complicated this whole situation was becoming.
Seokjin took a seat at one of the empty chairs, the weight of everything settling on him. His fingers twitched slightly, betraying his inner restlessness, but he kept his posture relaxed, as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening. The chatter around him resumed, but it all felt distant, as if he were listening from underwater.
Just as Seokjin was starting to zone out, his mother’s voice broke through the noise.
“Seokjin, darling, could you please help Y/N with those bags? She can put them in my bedroom,” she asked, her tone casual, as though nothing was strange about the request. “And after that, show her around the house briefly. Don’t take too long, though. The food will get cold.”
Seokjin’s lips parted in disbelief for a moment, before he quickly masked his reaction. He almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it all. He was being asked to help Y/N with her bags after he’d already offered earlier, only for her to refuse. He met her eyes for a second, wondering if she found the situation as amusing as he did.
Y/N, who had been sitting quietly, seemed just as caught off guard. She didn’t immediately respond, her gaze flicking between him and his mother. Seokjin gave her a subtle, almost apologetic glance before he stood up from his chair.
“Sure,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ll be right back.”
He moved toward the bags by the door, still processing the bizarre turn of events. The fact that his mother seemed so oblivious to the tension between him and Y/N only made it harder to ignore. He bent down to pick up the bags, feeling Y/N’s eyes on him as he did.
As he carefully adjusted the bags to carry them, he briefly glanced back at his mom, who was smiling at him as though everything was perfectly normal. He sighed internally and headed toward the staircase, the weight of his actions feeling heavier with every step.
Once he reached the top of the stairs, he motioned for Y/N to follow him. She did so quietly, her face still a mask of composure, but Seokjin could tell she was just as uncomfortable with the situation as he was. He entered the room and gently placed the bags on the bed, straightened up, turning to face Y/N. His tone was neutral, but inside, he was trying to steady the strange mix of emotions swirling within him. "Here you go," he said, his voice calm but distant, not wanting to add to the tension that was already there.
Y/N stood there quietly for a moment, her gaze drifting over the bags, but her mind clearly elsewhere. Her posture was still confident, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes. Seokjin shifted his weight, awkwardly glancing at the door, trying to think of something to say to break the silence.
Then, in a soft murmur, Y/N spoke, her voice almost a whisper. "Can't believe that was you."
Seokjin blinked, caught off guard by her words. He raised an eyebrow and tilted his head slightly, confusion crossing his features. "Huh?"
Y/N looked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. There was a brief flicker in her eyes, almost like she was assessing him before she spoke again, this time with a touch more firmness. "The guy I met earlier. I didn’t expect it to be you." Her voice was steady, but there was a quiet realization there, as if she’d only just pieced everything together.
Seokjin felt a rush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. He’d assumed the encounter earlier was something fleeting, a mere coincidence. But now, hearing her speak like that, it felt as if the gravity of the situation had just hit him square in the chest. She was no stranger to these kinds of things, that much was clear.
"Yeah, well..." Seokjin chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't expect it either."
Y/N gave a dry, knowing smile, a slight, almost imperceptible tilt to her lips. "Of course you didn't." She turned away, glancing at the door as if signaling she was ready to move past the moment, but her tone carried an undertone of something deeper. Something Seokjin wasn’t sure he was ready to address just yet.
She wasn’t just any woman. She had a presence about her, a strength in the way she carried herself, a no-nonsense attitude that spoke volumes about her life experience. Seokjin realized, with some discomfort, that this was going to be more complicated than he'd first thought.
~~Y/N's POV~~
This is all so embarrassing.
I could feel my face heat up as I quickly turned away from Seokjin, trying to ignore the unease pooling in my stomach. This whole situation was starting to spiral out of control. I had planned for this meeting to go differently, but the awkward encounter we’d just had had completely thrown me off track.
I had come in prepared with my “persona” of the quiet, but biggest gold digger girly girl who could smile and get her way out of any uncomfortable situation. The one who would make him cringe, who would make him beg his mom to find someone else. But now? That plan was shattered. I could barely even look at him without feeling like a fool. If I had been paying attention earlier, if he hadn’t been wearing that mask... I would have recognized him.
Seokjin wasn’t just some random guy, after all. He was a superstar. I’d seen his face a thousand times in the media, on posters, on TV. The moment he took off that mask, it all clicked into place, and I felt a wave of dread wash over me.
But this wasn’t my fault. I didn’t want to get tangled in his world. Not just because of his fame, but because of the pressure from my parents. They had orchestrated this whole thing, making me meet with him, pushing us together, as if they could somehow make my life a little easier by pairing me with a man of his stature. But I wanted nothing of it.
So, I had to figure out how to get out of this. I needed to make him not like me. I needed to convince him that I wasn’t the one for him, that he should beg his mother to find someone else, someone who wasn’t tangled up in her own family’s expectations.
I rushed downstairs, trying to collect myself, my mind racing with all the possible ways I could salvage the situation. I needed a strategy. I needed to come up with something that would make this whole thing a little less... awkward. But for now, I’d play it cool. I’d figure it out at the table with everyone else.
But the dinner was a disaster as well. Or at least it felt that way to me. Sitting there, surrounded by polite laughter and endless compliments about Seokjin’s illustrious career, I couldn’t help but feel like a sideshow in someone else’s life. Every smile I forced felt faker than the last, and every glance Seokjin and I exchanged across the table only added to the weight pressing down on my chest. After the plates were cleared and the families launched into another round of conversation, I excused myself. I needed air, a moment to think, to escape the growing suffocation of this entire situation.
I moved quickly down the hall, the murmur of overlapping voices fading behind me. My chest felt tight, every step reminding me how badly I needed to get away from the prying eyes and unspoken expectations. The elevator doors slid open smoothly, and I stepped inside, pressing the button for the ground floor.
On my way here, I spotted a garden surrounding the building, a quiet, beautifully lit space that had caught my attention. I wasn’t sure why, but it seemed like the perfect place to catch my breath. Something about the greenery and the softly glowing lights felt grounding, far removed from the orchestrated chaos upstairs.
The elevator ride down was uneventful, the hum of the machinery filling the silence. As the doors opened, I stepped into the lobby and found the nearest exit leading to the garden. The moment I stepped outside, a soft breeze greeted me, carrying the faint, comforting scent of flowers. The cobblestone path I’d glimpsed earlier wound gently through rows of hedges and flower beds, leading to a small fountain that glimmered under the soft light of the lampposts scattered around.
Finally, I could breathe. I walked slowly along the path, taking in the sights, letting the evening air cool the heat of frustration that had been simmering since dinner. The quiet was a stark contrast to the din of forced conversations upstairs, and for the first time all evening, I felt my shoulders begin to relax.
But my peace was short-lived.
“I figured you’d end up here,” a voice said behind me, startling me enough to make me whirl around.
There he was, Seokjin, leaning casually against one of the lampposts, his hands tucked into his pockets. The soft glow of the light highlighted his features, and he wore an expression that was equal parts amused and curious.
“Do you always sneak up on people like that?” I asked, pressing a hand to my chest to steady my racing heart. My tone came out sharper than I intended.
“Not always,” he replied, pushing off the lamppost and taking a slow step toward me. “But you’re not exactly hard to find.”
I frowned, crossing my arms as I looked at him. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, stopping a few steps away. “Same thing as you, I guess. I needed some air.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge if he was being serious or just making fun of me. His expression gave nothing away, his face frustratingly calm. “You seemed pretty comfortable back there. I didn’t think you’d need a break.”
His lips quirked into a small, almost teasing smile. “Trust me, I’ve had more than my fair share of family dinners like this one.”
I let out a short, dry laugh. “So, what? You just followed me?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “I came down here because it’s quiet, and I like this garden.”
I didn’t know if I believed him, but his tone didn’t carry the smugness I’d expected. He sounded... genuine. For a moment, the tension between us lessened, though it didn’t completely disappear.
I turned back toward the fountain, my fingers brushing along the cool stone rim. “It’s nice here,” I admitted softly. “Peaceful.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance. “It’s one of the only places I can really think when I’m here.”
I glanced at him, surprised by his honesty. His gaze was fixed on the fountain, his face unreadable but calm. There was something about his demeanor that threw me off balance, something I couldn’t quite pin down.
“This whole situation,” I began, my voice quieter now, “you know it’s a setup, right? They want us to marry or something. No offense, but you’re not my type. And even if you were, I’m very career-oriented. I don’t need a guy to ruin my plans.”
Seokjin raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile. “Not your type?” he repeated, mock-offended. “You’re seriously telling me this worldwide handsome face isn’t your type?” He gestured dramatically to himself, making me roll my eyes.
“Not even close,” I shot back, unable to stop the small smirk tugging at my lips.
He chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. “Good, because trust me, I’m not interested in marriage either. Being an idol is hard enough without throwing a wife into the mix.”
I tilted my head, curiosity getting the better of me. “Then why are they pressuring you? I mean, they know how demanding your job is, don’t they?”
Seokjin’s expression softened, though a trace of frustration lingered in his eyes. “Probably for the same reason as your parents.”
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess,” I said, already seeing where this was going.
At the same time, we both said, “Someone to take care of you when you’re older.”
Our voices overlapped perfectly, and the realization hit us simultaneously. I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing, the tension from earlier dissolving into the cool evening air.
“Well, listen to me, kiddo,” I said, pointing at him with mock seriousness.
“Kiddo?” Seokjin echoed, raising both eyebrows in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”
I grinned, loving the chance to tease him. “What, don’t tell me you don’t know? I’m older than you. That’s right, I’m your noona.”
Seokjin blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Wait, what?” He looked at me skeptically. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” I said, leaning back against the fountain with a triumphant smile. “Born and raised a year before you, Jin-ah.”
He stared at me for a moment before shaking his head, a playful scoff escaping his lips. “Great. Just great. Now I’m stuck with a noona who doesn’t even think I’m her type. What a tragedy.”
“Exactly,” I said, smirking. “You better behave, kiddo, or I’ll start acting like a real noona.”
“Yeah, right,” he shot back, but his voice held a warmth that hadn’t been there earlier. “If anyone’s the responsible one here, it’s me.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Says the guy who calls himself ‘worldwide handsome.’”
He laughed at that, the sound echoing softly in the garden. It wasn’t forced or polite, it was genuine, and for the first time that evening, I saw a glimpse of the person behind the idol persona.
“So, tell me,” I asked, breaking the comfortable silence between us as we both leaned against the fountain. “How many setups like this have you had so far?”
Jin tilted his head, thinking for a moment before shrugging. “These past few years, not a lot. I’ve been busy, you know. But a couple, maybe, some years back.”
“A couple?” I exclaimed, narrowing my eyes at him. “And you’re getting pissed off about this one?”
He blinked, caught off guard by my reaction. “Why? How many have you had?”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms as I leaned closer to him. “Let’s just say I had a streak once where I was going on a setup date almost every week.”
Jin’s eyes widened, his expression shifting from amusement to genuine shock. “Every week?”
“Yup,” I confirmed, popping the ‘p.’ “And honestly, I could’ve refused, but they always had someone watching over me, like some kind of creepy dating chaperone. Worse, my parents have connections to where I work, so one time, they actually threatened me.”
“Threatened you?” he repeated, his voice laced with concern.
I nodded, sighing. “Yup. They told me to either find a husband or they’d pull strings to make me lose my job. Can you believe that?”
Jin’s jaw dropped slightly, and he stared at me like I’d just revealed the plot twist in a thriller movie. “That’s insane.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I muttered, shaking my head. “I mean, I don’t even know why I’m venting to you about this. You may have had it worse.”
Jin raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a wry smile. “Worse? Oh no, I’m not even going to try competing with that story. Weekly dates and job-threatening parents? You win, hands down.”
“Damn right I do,” I said with a grin, nudging his shoulder lightly.
He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “Still, I get it. It’s exhausting when people think they know what’s best for you. Like they’re entitled to decide your life for you.”
I glanced at him, surprised by the sudden seriousness in his tone. There was something comforting about knowing he understood, even if his experiences were worlds apart from mine.
“Yeah,” I said softly, looking down at the rippling water in the fountain. “It’s like they don’t see you for who you are, just what they want you to be.”
“Exactly,” Jin said, his voice steady and calm. “But hey, at least we’ve got this moment to just... not deal with it.”
I looked up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “You’re right. This garden isn’t so bad for an escape.”
“See? I knew you’d like it,” he teased, his playful tone back. “You should thank me for being such a great tour guide.”
“Tour guide?” I scoffed. “You didn’t even know I’d be here! This was just a coincidence!”
“Details,” he said with a shrug, his grin widening.
Jin tilted his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “So, what’s your plan after we go upstairs?”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Honestly? Before I came here, I had this brilliant plan to mess things up with you.”
“Mess things up?” Jin repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” I admitted, folding my arms. “I was going to act like the world’s biggest gold digger or something, make you think I’m insufferable and just boring, so you’d run back to your mom and tell her you didn’t like me. Easy out for both of us.”
Jin’s expression shifted from amusement to something closer to disbelief. “Wow.” was all he said before just bursting into laughter.
I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. “I know, I know. But then I realized something. Our families, especially our moms, are way too close. Even if you wanted to bail, they’d probably just keep scheming to bring us back together. And after that weird encounter we had earlier? I don’t think I could pull it off anymore without them catching on to it being just an act.”
Jin nodded slowly, leaning back against the fountain. “Yeah, our moms are scary like that. They’d probably rope us into some other ‘random’ meeting if we tried to tank this one.”
“Exactly,” I said, exhaling. “So, since my original plan is a bust and we’re actually on decent terms now, I figured we could try something else.”
“Go on,” he said, motioning for me to continue.
I hesitated, then shrugged. “We go back upstairs and act like we can’t stand each other. Play up the whole ‘we’re totally incompatible’ angle. If they think there’s no hope, maybe they’ll finally give up and let us live our lives.”
Jin’s lips twitched, and he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “So you want to go up there and put on a whole performance about how much we hate each other?”
“Pretty much,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
He considered it for a moment, then gave me a sly grin. “Alright. I’m in. But only if I get to be the dramatic one. You know, make it look like you’re completely unbearable.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help laughing. “Fine, as long as you don’t overdo it and make me look like some kind of monster.”
“No promises,” he teased, standing up straighter and brushing off his jacket.
“Think this will work?” I asked, looking at the entrance to the building.
“Worst case, we give them a good show,” Jin said with a shrug. “Best case? We’re free.”
“Alright,” I said, taking a deep breath and squaring my shoulders. “Let’s do this.”
As we walked back toward the elevator, side by side, I couldn’t help but feel like I’d found an unexpected ally in this absurd situation. Whatever happened upstairs, at least I wasn’t facing it alone.
The elevator ride back up was filled with quiet anticipation, the kind that buzzed under your skin and made your thoughts race. Jin stood next to me, his hands in his pockets, the faintest trace of a smirk still lingering on his face. I could almost hear him planning out how he’d bring this charade to life.
“You ready for this?” he asked as the elevator dinged, signaling our floor.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, my fingers twitching at my sides.
The doors slid open, and we stepped back into the opulent dining hall, where the chatter of our families filled the space. The sight of the two of us together caught their attention immediately, several heads turned, and I could see our mothers exchanging knowing looks.
Here we go.
Jin was the first to break the silence, his voice carrying just the right amount of exasperation. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said loudly, his tone dripping with disbelief.
I blinked, playing my part. “Excuse me?” I shot back, my voice sharper than usual.
“You’re impossible!” Jin huffed, running a hand through his hair as he turned to the table. “Do you know how hard it is to have a normal conversation with her? She’s constantly nitpicking every little thing I say.”
“Maybe if you had something worthwhile to say, I wouldn’t have to,” I snapped, crossing my arms as I stepped past him toward my seat.
The table went silent, every pair of eyes bouncing between us like they were watching a live soap opera.
Jin scoffed, throwing his hands in the air. “See what I mean? This is exactly what I’m talking about! You’re so—so difficult!”
“Difficult?” I repeated, glaring at him. “That’s rich coming from someone who can’t stop talking about himself for five minutes!”
Gasps rippled through the room, and I bit back a grin. This was going better than I’d expected.
“Oh, please,” Jin shot back, stepping closer with a dramatic sigh. “You’re just mad because I didn’t agree with your ridiculous opinions on… what was it again? Oh, right. Everything.”
“Maybe if you had better taste, we wouldn’t be arguing!” I retorted, my voice rising.
Our mothers exchanged panicked glances, clearly trying to figure out how to intervene. Jin’s dad leaned back in his chair, clearly amused, while Jin’s brother and his wife whispered furiously to each other, their eyes wide with shock.
Jin crossed his arms, tilting his head at me. “Better taste? You’ve got some nerve considering you carry a glittery phonecase. Glittery!”
I gasped, clutching my chest as if he’d insulted my entire family lineage. “At least I have a personality! Unlike you, who thinks being ‘Worldwide Handsome’ is a personality trait.”
The room was dead silent now, and I could see several of them trying to hide their laughter behind napkins and wine glasses. Jin’s expression faltered for a split second, his lips twitching like he was holding back a laugh, but he quickly recovered.
“Alright, that’s it,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “You’re impossible to deal with. I don’t know how anyone could put up with you for more than five minutes.”
“Funny,” I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “I was thinking the exact same thing about you.”
“Enough!” Jin’s mother suddenly exclaimed, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “What is going on here?”
Jin and I both froze, turning toward her like guilty children caught in the act.
“I’ll tell you what’s going on,” Jin said, throwing his hands up again. “This is never going to work. We’re completely incompatible. Oil and water. Cats and dogs. Whatever you want to call it, it’s not happening.”
I nodded fervently, backing him up. “Exactly! We’re too different. There’s no way this is going to work out.”
Our mothers exchanged another look, their lips pressed into tight lines. Jin’s mom leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. “Are you two being serious right now?”
“As serious as I’ve ever been,” Jin replied, his tone flat but confident.
“Absolutely,” I added, crossing my arms again for emphasis.
For a moment, the room was eerily quiet. Then Jin’s dad burst into laughter, slapping his knee as he shook his head. “Well, that’s one way to make your point,” he said, his voice booming with amusement. Our mothers, however, didn’t look nearly as amused. They glanced at each other again, clearly trying to recalibrate their plans.
“Well,” I began, standing up abruptly and smoothing down my dress. “This has been… enlightening. But if you’ll excuse me, I have to go. I have work early tomorrow, and I’m already starting to feel a headache coming on.”
My mom’s eyes snapped to me, and her expression shifted into one of concern and confusion. “Y/N, wait are you sure? You don’t have to leave just yet.”
“It’s fine,” I cut her off, my tone soft but firm. “I really need to get some rest. Please, don’t worry about me. We’ll talk later.”
I didn’t wait for anyone’s response, heading straight for the door, my heart pounding slightly as I quickly exited the dining hall. I could feel their eyes on me, but I didn’t turn back. I just had to get out of that room before I said something I might regret.
Inside the dining room, a tense silence followed my departure. My mom, now visibly flustered, exchanged glances with my dad before speaking up, trying to diffuse the awkward atmosphere.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice tight with embarrassment. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her tonight. This is so unlike her.”
Jin’s mom smiled sympathetically and placed a hand on my mom’s arm. “She’s just under a lot of pressure. We understand. After all, it’s not easy being in the spotlight like that. But don’t worry, we’ll get through this.” She then hugged my mom warmly. They were clearly good friends, and the warmth of their bond seemed to soothe the tension just a little.
Without a word, Jin slowly stood up, grabbing his jacket. He could feel the weight of the night lift as he stepped out into the cool air. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to take from all this, but the combination of confusion and amusement was enough for him to decide it was time to call it a night.
As he slid into his car, he let out a slow breath, trying to process everything that had just happened. But instead of finding clarity, all he felt was a deep, overwhelming sense of curiosity, and maybe even a little intrigue, about the next time he’d have to face Y/N again.
But for now, he was just happy to leave all the nonsense behind him.
After all, the night had only just begun.
***
The next morning, my phone rang, and I groggily reached for it. Seeing my mom’s name on the screen made my stomach twist. I didn’t need to pick it up to know what was coming.
"Y/N, why aren’t you answering your phone? We need to talk about last night," my mom’s voice crackled through, sharp as ever.
I rolled my eyes, rubbing my forehead. "I’m not in the mood, Mom."
“You don’t have the luxury to be ‘not in the mood,’ young lady," she snapped, her voice stern. "You’re going over to Jin’s family’s house today to apologize for your behavior last night. That’s what’s happening."
My heart sank. I was already dreading it. "But Mom, I don’t want to. What if I see him again? He’s a narcissist! I can’t keep doing this!"
I had to keep up the act, pretending that I absolutely hated Jin. The dinner last night had been ridiculous enough, but now my mom was pushing me even further into a corner.
"He doesn’t live there anymore, Y/N," my mom said, her voice softening but still firm. "I already prepared everything you need to give them. Just go, apologize, and make this right. That’s all I’m asking."
I let out a frustrated sigh, biting my lip as I tried to compose myself. This wasn’t fair. But there was no getting out of it. I had to go. For everyone’s sake.
"Fine," I muttered, already dreading the upcoming confrontation. "I’ll go. But I better not see Jin. Not even for a second."
“You don’t have to talk to him if he is there, just apologize, and you’ll be done with it. Please, Y/N, for us. Do this for the family."
I swallowed hard, staring at the ceiling as I silently cursed the situation. This was the last thing I wanted, but I had no choice. "Okay,I’ll go…”
“Good,” she said, sounding relieved. “Just take care of it, and everything will be fine.”
I didn’t respond. I just hung up and buried my face in the pillow for a moment, steeling myself for what was to come.
The day dragged on in a haze, and before I knew it, I was standing outside Jin’s family apartment, clutching a few bags filled with gifts and items that my mom had insisted I bring. It wasn’t just any apology; it had to be wrapped in these ‘carefully chosen’ gifts to smooth over the tension. I wanted to be anywhere else but here, but the pressure from my mom was suffocating, and I couldn’t back out now.
I rang the doorbell once, twice, my patience growing thin as the seconds ticked by. No answer. I let out an exasperated sigh and pressed the doorbell again, pressing my ear to the door this time. I could hear muffled voices from the other side, but no one came. Maybe they hadn’t heard me. Maybe they were busy, I thought.
Then, suddenly, I heard a voice, Jin’s voice, low and strained. It sounded like he was talking to his mom.
“Omma, wait. I am comin… ”
The sound of rushed footsteps startled me. Before I could even react, the door flung open, and there he was, Jin, standing in the doorway, slightly flushed, still damp from his shower, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. His hair was messy, a towel draped loosely over his shoulders, and for a brief second, I felt my heart race.
He blinked, clearly surprised to see me standing there with bags in my arms.
“I told you to wait–Y/N?” he asked, his tone a mix of confusion and annoyance.
I stared at him, flustered, trying not to glance at his exposed chest. "I thought you don’t live here?" I stammered, my voice faltering.
“I don’t, but… ” he began, clearly taken aback, but then his eyes flicked down to the bags I was holding. “Wait, what are you doing here?”
I lifted the bags a bit higher, trying to shield my awkwardness behind them. “What does it look like I’m doing?” I said dryly. “I’m here to drop these off for your family. My mom told me to.”
Jin stared at me for a moment before asking, “Your mom did this?”
I nodded, but just as I was about to say something else, I froze. “Wait, is your mom not home?”
“No, I mean she’s here,” Jin replied, glancing over his shoulder. “She just went out to buy something.”
As if on cue, I heard the faint murmur of Jin’s mom talking on the phone from the hallway. The reality of the situation crashed down on me. Here I was, standing in Jin’s doorway, holding bags full of gifts, while he was half-dressed in front of me. My mind spun with the awkwardness of the situation. Was this really happening?
His eyes flickered to mine, then to the bags in my hands, and then back to my face. There was an awkward pause before I heard the faint sound of his mom's voice getting closer and then, without warning, he panicked.
“Y/N, you have to get inside,” Jin said urgently, his hand grabbing my arm and pulling me gently but firmly into the house. My back hit the door with a soft thud as he stepped in right after me, his body hovering close to mine. The proximity was… a little too much for me to handle.
I felt trapped between the door and Jin, my heart pounding in my chest as I tried not to focus on the fact that his bare chest was mere inches from me. His breath was warm against my skin, and I could feel his presence looming over me.
“Uh—” I stammered, trying to create some space, but he didn’t move. His eyes were locked on the door, seemingly listening for any sign of his mom coming.
“I’ll go change, okay? I’ll be back in a second.”Jin said in a low voice, leaning slightly to the side, his eyes scanning the hallway. He didn’t wait for me to respond before he swiftly rushed toward the stairs.
I stood frozen for a moment, my mind trying to process the entire situation. I was still holding the bags, but my arms were suddenly feeling like they were made of lead. Jin had just pulled me inside the house, while his mom was coming back, and now I was left standing in this hallway, feeling the weight of the awkwardness settling in around me.
Before I had time to process my thoughts, the doorbell rang. The sound snapped me out of my daze, and I froze for a moment, unsure of what to do next. I was still standing awkwardly in the hallway, the bags weighing heavily in my arms, and Jin had just rushed upstairs to change. What had I gotten myself into?
I quickly moved to answer the door, trying to act like everything was fine. When I opened it, I was greeted by none other than Jin’s mom, standing there with a kind smile on her face.
“Oh, Y/N,” she said, her expression shifting slightly as she noticed me standing there alone, holding the bags. “What are you doing here?”
I tried to keep my tone casual, despite the awkward tension that was still thick in the air. “I, uh… came to apologize. For last night.” The words felt almost foreign on my tongue, but I forced myself to say them.
Her expression softened, and I could tell she appreciated my effort. “Oh, that’s very thoughtful of you.” I nodded, stepping aside to let her in, still trying to shake off the unease that had settled in my chest. Jin’s mom gave me a warm smile and gestured toward the living room.
I placed the bags on the table, carefully arranging them to keep everything neat. The warmth of Jin’s mom’s smile was a little comforting, but the awkward tension in the air remained. I tried to ignore it, focusing on the task at hand.
After a few moments, I took a deep breath and spoke up, my voice sounding more confident than I felt. “I just wanted to apologize for last night. I... I didn’t mean to come off as rude. It’s been a lot going on lately and I guess I didn’t handle things well.”
Jin’s mom paused for a moment, looking at me with a thoughtful expression. She nodded, understanding in her eyes. “I can tell, Y/N. It’s not easy, I know. We all have our moments where we act out. And I do appreciate your apology.” She softened her tone, her smile warm and reassuring. “It shows maturity, and I appreciate you coming here today.”
I gave a small, awkward smile in return. Just then, Jin’s mom turned her attention to the hallway, as though she had just realized something. “Jin opened the door for you earlier. Where is he?”
The question caught me off guard, and panic shot through me. I hadn’t even thought about where he had gone after pulling me inside earlier. I tried to keep my voice steady, but it came out a little shaky. “Uh… I don’t know. He said he had to get something from his room. I... I haven’t seen him since.”
She raised an eyebrow but seemed to take it in stride. “Ah, well, that makes sense. Jin doesn’t live here anymore, but he still comes by on his days off to spend time with us. He has his own room upstairs, but he doesn’t use it much now. Let me show you where it is.”
I quickly gave a forced smile, trying to play along with the act I’d been keeping up since dinner. “That’s all good, I’m sure after yesterday me and him both don’t want to see each other. No offense, haha,” I added with a little chuckle, hoping she didn’t notice the underlying tension in my words. Jin’s mom, however, didn’t seem to mind. “Really? After you left, he also said some good things about you,” she said, her tone casual. “I thought you two might have made up already while I was gone.”
I froze, my eyes widening in surprise. What? My mind screamed. That bastard... Why is he ruining my plan?
I tried not to show my shock on the outside, but inside, I was boiling. “Huh, really?” I managed, my voice thick with disbelief. “I guess he’s... full of surprises.”
I didn’t know what to make of that. Why would Jin say good things about me after everything that happened? And why was his mom casually mentioning it now? Things are just not adding up.
“Anyway,” she continued, oblivious to my inner turmoil, “follow me, I’ll show you where his room is.” She led me to the stairs and gestured for me to follow. “Just go up, and his room is at the end of the hall. I’ll be downstairs preparing dessert. Please make yourself comfortable and ask him to join us for some too.” she said, her voice warm as she smiled at me before turning to head back downstairs.
I nodded quickly, feeling a little relieved that I wouldn’t have to face her for a moment. I made my way up the stairs, my heart racing as I approached the door to Jin’s room. I hesitated for a second before I reached out and knocked softly.
Knock, knock, knock.
I waited, holding my breath, but there was no immediate answer. I could hear faint rustling from inside, and I briefly wondered if he was changing. After a moment, the door creaked open, and there he was, now fully dressed in casual clothes, his hair still slightly damp from his earlier shower.
He blinked, his eyes narrowing slightly when he saw me standing there, holding the bags. "You really are persistent," he muttered, half-smiling, but there was an edge to his voice.
I let out a deep breath. "Look, your mom said she's making dessert for us. She told me to get you downstairs. Let's just go, get this over with, and then we don't have to see each other ever again. Don't worry." I glanced at him, trying to hide the unease in my voice. "And, uh, sorry for earlier, by the way."
I stepped in a little further into the room, and Jin sat down at the corner of his bed, looking at me with an unreadable expression.
"Sorry about what?" he asked, his tone dry.
I rolled my eyes, feeling the frustration build. Forget it, Y/N. Just get this done. "Anyway, just come downstairs, okay?"
Before I could turn to leave, I remembered what Jin’s mom had said earlier. "By the way, what did you say to your mom about me yesterday?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.
Jin raised an eyebrow. “About you? Ah, she asked what happened, and I just told her that you’re stubborn, and we’re opposites.But… you seem like a good person, I guess.”
I blinked, surprised. "Am I supposed to be flattered? That's an insult and a compliment all in one."
He shrugged, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Take it as you want.”
I crossed my arms, not sure whether to laugh or just walk out. "Why would you… we’re supposed to be sworn enemies, remember?" I paused, narrowing my eyes at him.”Do you actually want to get married if you’re telling her good stuff about me? Don’t make their hopes go up for nothing."
Jin’s gaze shifted to the side for a moment, as if weighing his words. “What if we do it?” he said suddenly, his tone more serious.
“What?” I blinked in confusion. “What do you mean, ‘do it’?”
Jin looked at me, his eyes a little more intense. “What if we just play along with their game, get married, and they leave us alone? No more set-up dates, no more of this ridiculous pressure. I’m going on tour soon, so we could pretend to go on some dates before I leave. When I am back, I could propose, and then, with all the activities, we wouldn't see each other much anyway. I think it’s a smart way out."
For a moment, I just stared at him, trying to process what he was suggesting. “Wait, you're serious?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest. “You want us to just pretend to get married to get our families off our backs? Play their game?”
Jin nodded slowly, as if the idea had been running through his mind for a while. “Yeah. We keep up the act, let them think we’re in this whole thing, and then just... go our separate ways. It’s foolproof.”
I stood there in stunned silence, my mind racing. Is he really proposing this? It seemed crazy, but there was a part of me that couldn't help but think it might just work.
“And what happens after?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
He shrugged nonchalantly. “We can try it out for two years. The first year, I’ll be really busy with album promotions either way. In the second year, we can fake it. We’ll act like we’re getting on bad terms, then, boom, divorce. We’ll act heartbroken about it, say we couldn’t make it work, and make it clear we don’t see ourselves marrying anyone else for a long time.”
I stood there, processing what Jin had said, my mind swirling. Could this actually work? The pressure from our families, the constant set-up dates, the expectations, they were exhausting. Maybe going along with this charade would give us both the escape we needed. For a moment, I even considered it. It seemed like a perfect solution, a way to make everything stop without truly having to change our lives too much.
But then, something in me snapped back to reality. I’d been handling my family’s pressure for years. I had always managed to avoid their matchmaking attempts, staying strong and refusing to give in. I didn’t need to pretend to marry someone to get them off my back. I could handle this on my own. After all, I had for so long.
Surprisingly, I shook my head, clearing my thoughts. “No,” I said aloud, surprising even myself with the firmness in my voice. “I think I can manage them. I’ve done it for years. They’ll get the hint eventually. I don’t need this...game.”
With that, I turned, surprising myself even more as I walked toward the door and left the room, leaving Jin behind, still sitting on his bed, probably trying to figure out what just happened.
When I came downstairs, I noticed Jin’s mom sitting at the table with a warm smile, sipping tea, and gesturing toward the desserts she had laid out. She’d clearly put some effort into it. The tension was still there, but I had to focus on keeping it together. It felt a bit like an interrogation at first, with her carefully watching me. My heart was still racing from the conversation upstairs, but I tried to remain composed.
Jin walked in a few moments later, looking more relaxed than I expected. He slid into the seat next to me, giving me a quick nod of acknowledgment. I couldn’t help but glance at him briefly, he was acting like nothing had happened.
“You know, I must say… this dessert looks almost as good as I do.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, despite myself. His mom just shook her head, already used to his antics.
“Really, Jin?” she said, rolling her eyes with a smirk. Jin leaned back in his chair with a dramatic sigh, striking a pose. “I mean, someone’s got to remind the world. You’re welcome,” he said with a wink, clearly pleased with himself.
“Uh-huh, sure,” I chimed in, playing along. “I’m sure everyone’s just dying to hear that.”
His mom laughed, clearly entertained by his confidence. “Don’t listen to him, Y/N. He’s been like this since he was little. Always thinking he’s the center of attention.”
“Can you blame me?” Jin continued, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I mean, I am a world-famous idol now. People would probably faint if they saw me walking down the street.”
I rolled my eyes, trying to hold back a smile. “Is that so? I’m sure people would be more likely to trip over themselves trying to get away from you.”
“Hey!” Jin said with a mock glare. “Watch it. I’m a handsome man, don’t forget that.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, not backing down. “Right, right. A handsome man, who’s also got a big ego apparently.”
Jin grinned even wider, clearly enjoying the teasing. “I prefer to call it ‘confidence.’ It’s a key ingredient to my success,” he said with a wink.
His mom chuckled, shaking her head at both of us. “I’m surprised you two aren’t getting along. You’re just as bad as he is, Y/N.”
I laughed, feeling more at ease now. “Hey, I’m just following his lead. He makes it too easy to tease.”
Jin smirked, leaning back in his chair like he was victorious. “See? I’m just that charming. Everyone wants a piece of me.”
His mom raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure ‘charming’ is the word I’d use, but I’ll let you have it.” The lighthearted atmosphere remained for a moment longer before she gestured toward the dessert again, her tone casual. “Now, why don’t you both have a little dessert? I’m sure you’ll enjoy it after all the talk.”
Jin grabbed a small plate and grinned at me. “You hear that? She’s trying to bribe us with dessert. How could we resist?”
I rolled my eyes with a laugh. After a few more playful jabs between Jin and his mom about his hectic idol schedule and his exaggerated tales of his “worldwide fame”, I began to realize just how much time had passed. I glanced at my watch, noticing the hour. “Well, I guess I should be going,” I said, standing up from my chair. “This took longer than I thought. I should let you both get back to your day.”
Jin's mom looked up from her cup of tea, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “Already? I understand, but you’re always welcome here, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.”
I smiled at her warmth, feeling a sense of appreciation. “Thank you, I really enjoyed the dessert. I’ll make sure to stop by when I can, but... well, I’m not sure when that’ll be.”
Jin's mom then gave a gentle push toward Jin. “Come on, Jin, walk Y/N to her car.”
Jin hesitated for a moment, a slight frown crossing his face, clearly not thrilled with the idea. But after a beat, he sighed and stood up. “Fine, fine. Let’s go.” He muttered, but there was no denying the small hint of reluctance in his voice.
We walked to the elevator in silence, neither of us quite sure what to say next. The soft ding of the elevator reaching our floor felt louder than usual, and we both stepped in without another word.
The elevator ride felt long, as if we were both lost in our own thoughts. Once the doors opened and we made our way to the parking lot, I took a deep breath, ready to break the silence.
“Well, that’s done, then,” I said, my voice sounding a little more casual than I felt. “It was fun, somehow, for what it lasted. Good luck on your career, Jin. I hope your parents don’t nag you as much as mine do, and I hope we don’t have to cross paths again.”
Jin looked at me, his eyes widening for a second, clearly taken aback by my words. I hadn’t expected to see that look on his face. But then, his features softened, and he spoke, his voice almost a little quieter than usual.
“Nice meeting you too, Noona,” he said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
With that, he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there for a moment, feeling the weight of his words. I watched as he disappeared into the dark, realizing just how much that short, unexpected connection had left its mark.
***
Four weeks later, and life had somewhat returned to normal for me after everything that had happened. I kept myself busy with work, pushing the strange events with Jin to the back of my mind. But it seemed like the universe had other plans. Every now and then, I’d catch a glimpse of Jin’s face in a commercial or on a billboard as I walked through the city. Even in my ramen, there he was, staring back at me with that same confident smile.
It was a bit surreal, to be honest. I’d spent so much time thinking about the whole fake marriage idea, trying to convince myself that I’d made the right decision to walk away from it. I didn’t need some fake relationship to escape the matchmaking pressure from my family. I had dealt with it for years on my own, and I could keep handling it.
But then, one evening, after a long and exhausting day at work, I decided to visit my parents. I needed to get my mind off things for a while. As soon as I stepped into their house, my mom greeted me with a smile, but I could tell she was eager to tell me something.
"Y/N, you’ve been invited to Jin’s family again," she said, setting the table. Her tone was casual, but I could feel my heart drop.
"What? Again?" I asked, blinking in confusion. I didn’t even know how to react. "Is this another one of those matchmaking attempts? Because, seriously, I can’t deal with that again."
Mom just laughed softly, clearly not understanding the weight of what she was saying. "No dear, this time it’s just a casual dinner. I need to catch up with Jin’s mother, you know we are quite close friends."
I could feel the tension build up in my chest. "So I am guessing Jin would probably be there too?" I asked, my voice almost a little too sharp. "Seriously mother? After what happened last time, you guys are trying to set me up with him again?"
My mom shook her head. "Oh, my dear, haven’t you seen the news? The boy’s in a relationship now. There were some pictures leaked yesterday of him with a girl. And the company hasn’t confirmed anything yet, but I doubt he’ll be there."
My chest tightened as I stared at my mom, her words echoing in my head. Jin? In a relationship? It didn’t make sense. Just weeks ago, he was throwing out ideas about a fake marriage. And now, he was casually strolling around with someone else?
I couldn’t stop myself. I grabbed my phone, typing his name into the search bar. Almost immediately, the headlines popped up:
“BTS’s Jin Spotted with Mystery Girl—Relationship Rumors Fly!” “Who’s the Lucky Lady? Jin Seen Strolling Late at Night”
I clicked on one of the articles, scrolling down to see the photos everyone was talking about. The pictures weren’t even clear, just Jin’s back and side profile. He was wearing a mask and a hoodie, walking on a quiet street next to a woman who was also masked and dressed casually. They weren’t even holding hands, but they were standing close enough for the rumors to swirl.
I frowned, my brows knitting together. Seriously? This was what everyone was losing their minds over? They could’ve just been two people heading home or running errands. There was no way to tell if it was even a date.
But the headlines and captions painted a different story, full of speculation and drama:
“Are the two close? Sources suggest late-night meetups.” “Fans question if Jin has been hiding a secret relationship.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, putting my phone down on the table. “Mom, these articles aren’t even serious. Look at this.” I turned the phone to her, showing her the blurry pictures. “You can’t even tell what’s happening. They’re just walking near each other. This could be anyone.”
She glanced at the screen and shrugged. “Well, dear, the internet doesn’t need much to start rumors. But, if it’s true, it’s good for him. He deserves to be happy, don’t you think?”
I leaned back in my chair, my mind swirling. “Yeah, sure,” I muttered, more to myself than to her.
But a strange feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Was I annoyed? Confused? Or was it just the absurdity of seeing his face everywhere, even now?
Whatever it was, I shook it off, forcing myself to focus on the conversation. “So... when is this dinner you mentioned?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
***
I arrived at Jin’s family’s house a bit later than planned, my workday having stretched longer than I anticipated. As I parked my car, I took a deep breath. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure why I was here. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the fact that my parents had insisted it was just a friendly dinner. But deep down, a part of me wanted to know if he was here and more importantly, if she was.
I stepped into the living room, spotting my parents sitting with Jin’s mom. Everyone turned to look at me, and I quickly plastered on a polite smile.
“Ah, Y/N! There you are!” Jin’s mom exclaimed warmly, gesturing for me to come in.
As I walked further into the room, my gaze landed on him. Jin was seated at the dining table, casually leaning back in his chair. His expression was unreadable, but he seemed as relaxed as ever. And right next to him was a girl, chatting animatedly with someone across the table.
My stomach twisted. Of course. So this was her, the girl who had captured his attention so quickly. It was almost laughable. He’d tried to convince me of his “fake marriage” plan, only to turn around and find someone new within weeks.
I forced a smile, my mind racing as I made my way to an empty chair, conveniently across the table from Jin and his girlfriend. Great. Perfect. Just where I wanted to be.
‘’Sorry I’m late,” I said, slipping into the seat. “Work ran long.”
My mom leaned over, smiling knowingly. “We were just talking about how nice it is for families to gather like this. It’s been too long.”
I nodded politely, but my attention kept slipping to Jin and the girl next to him. She was laughing softly at something his mom had said, and Jin, of course, looked completely unfazed, like he wasn’t the center of my inner storm.
I kept my expression neutral, but my thoughts were far less composed. A player, huh? He really went all in, didn’t he? First, he asks me to fake marry him, and now he’s out here acting like the perfect boyfriend?
Curiosity got the better of me. My gaze flicked toward her, trying to figure out what it was about her that had drawn him in so quickly. She’s sweet, I’ll give her that, I thought begrudgingly. And innocent-looking too. Maybe that’s his type?
“Y/N, are you okay? You’re quiet tonight,” Jin’s mom asked, her kind tone breaking my inner spiral.
“Oh, I’m fine,” I said quickly, plastering on a smile. “Just tired from work, that’s all.”
I kept my head down for most of the dinner, avoiding Jin’s gaze entirely. I didn’t trust myself to look at him without the risk of either glaring or rolling my eyes. He didn’t try to catch my attention, either, but I could feel his presence like an annoying weight pressing on me.
“By the way,” my mom said, looking over at Jin’s mom, “I saw some of those articles online about Jin. Are they as wild as they seem?”
Jin’s mom waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, that nonsense? No, no, it’s all a misunderstanding. That’s his cousin, Byul,” she explained, gesturing to the girl sitting beside Jin. “She’s just moved here to start university soon and doesn’t know her way around Seoul yet. Jin was simply helping her get some groceries. You know how the media loves to create drama where there isn’t any.”
I froze, my fork hovering over my plate. Wait... cousin?
Jin’s cousin turned to my parents with a polite smile. “I’m so sorry for the confusion. I had no idea people would make such a fuss. Jin-oppa was just being kind.”
I felt a strange mix of relief and irritation bubbling inside me. Relief that Jin wasn’t dating her, and irritation at how easily I’d fallen for the rumors.
Still, I didn’t dare look at him. Instead, I kept my focus on my plate, determined to get through this dinner without giving him the satisfaction of seeing how much he’d gotten under my skin.
Why had I even come here? Curiosity? Spite? A desperate need to confirm what Jin had done after his fake proposal? Whatever it was, it had backfired spectacularly. So what if he had moved on quickly? He could date whoever he wanted. It wasn’t like we were ever anything to each other.
The thought sent a pang of irritation through me. I pushed my chair back, plastering on a polite smile. “Excuse me, I just need to use the bathroom,” I said, my voice a little too composed.
I didn’t head for the bathroom, though. That would’ve been too close, too confining. Instead, I made my way toward the balcony. The cool air hit me as I stepped outside, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
From here, I could still see the garden below. The faint glow of the lights illuminated the paths, and I imagined myself walking down there, disappearing into the calm, away from this entire night. But that would take time, more time than I wanted to spend explaining myself if anyone noticed I was gone too long. Leaning on the balcony railing, I stared out at the garden, the soft rustling of the leaves below offering a strange kind of solace. I could see why Jin’s family loved this place. It was beautiful, serene. Not at all like the chaos in my head. I let my hands grip the railing, frustration bubbling to the surface. Was I hoping to catch him in the act? To confirm he was some player who could propose fake marriages and then date someone else without a second thought?
The worst part was, I wasn’t even mad at Jin. I was mad at myself for caring. For letting curiosity drag me back into this situation. For giving him even an ounce of my attention after I’d made it clear I wanted nothing to do with him.
“Stupid,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head.
The sound of laughter drifted up from the dining room, reminding me of the lively conversation I’d left behind. For a moment, I considered just staying here on the balcony until it was over. But no, I’d have to go back eventually.nWith a resigned sigh, I leaned back from the railing, my mind still racing. How was I going to get through the rest of this evening without losing my sanity?
The sound of footsteps on the balcony tiles made me freeze. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Of course, Jin wouldn’t just let me have this moment alone.
“Still hiding?” Jin’s familiar voice cut through the quiet, laced with that teasing tone I’d come to expect. I sighed without turning around. “If you’ve come to make jokes about the situation, save it. I’m not in the mood.”
He stepped onto the balcony, his presence annoyingly comfortable despite the situation. “Joke? Me? Never.”
I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. He had his hands in his pockets, leaning slightly against the doorframe, looking far too relaxed for someone who’d clearly come to stir the pot.
“What do you want, Jin?” I asked flatly.
He shrugged, stepping closer. “I was just curious. You’ve been gone a while. Thought you might’ve gotten lost on your way to the bathroom.”
I rolled my eyes. “Funny.”
Jin smirked, leaning casually against the railing. “You know, I thought you said goodbye, and we’d never have to see each other again. Yet here you are, showing up uninvited to my family dinner. How does that work?”
I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. “Uninvited? Last I checked, my parents were invited, and I came as a courtesy. Believe me, being here wasn’t at the top of my to-do list.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” he said, his grin widening. “You came all the way here, even showed up late for dramatic effect. Makes me wonder if you just couldn’t resist the chance to see me again.”
I let out an incredulous laugh, shaking my head. “Oh, please. If anything, I was curious to see what kind of girl you managed to win over in record time. Imagine my surprise when it turns out to be your cousin.”
Jin chuckled, looking genuinely amused. “Ah, so you admit it, you were curious about me. That explains the sulking out here. Surprised I’m not off the market after all?”
“Surprised?” I repeated, my voice sharp. “Hardly. But I’ll admit, I did wonder how you managed to pull that off. World Wide Handsome gets rejected after a fake marriage proposal, yet still ends up with someone new within a month. Quite the record that would be, wouldn’t it?”
He put a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “Wow, Y/N, you really have a way with compliments. I’m starting to think you secretly enjoy my company.”
I scoffed, turning back toward the view. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re predictable,” he shot back, stepping a little closer. “Always so quick to assume the worst of me. Admit it, you’ve been dying to know if the rumors were true.”
I rolled my eyes. “No, Jin. I wasn’t sitting around obsessing over your love life. Unlike you, I have better things to do.”
He smirked, leaning slightly closer. “Then why talk about it? Why not let the rumors stay rumors?”
I sighed, already regretting indulging him. “Fine, I was curious. Happy now? But only because it’s ridiculous your company hasn’t clarified that she’s your cousin. What’s the hold-up?”
His expression shifted slightly, his grin softening. “It’s a bit complicated. Confirming it would mean revealing her identity, and she’s not exactly comfortable with that. It would draw too much attention to her.”
I blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “Oh. So, what are you going to do now?”
Jin shrugged, his nonchalant facade slipping a bit. “Honestly? I don’t know. My company’s weighing their options, but none of them feel right. Every solution comes with a risk. And, well, I’d rather not drag her into any more of this.”
I hesitated, chewing on my bottom lip as an idea formed in my head. “Maybe I could... help you.”
His eyes widened slightly, genuine surprise flickering across his face. “Huh? You said no to the marriage plan, and now you’re offering to help?”
“Fine then,” I said, crossing my arms and staring him down. “Let me spell it out for you. Let’s get married.”
Jin blinked, clearly stunned. “What?”
“I’ll be the girl in the photos. We can stage some dates before your tour, and your cousin’s identity stays secret, covered by mine. Simple.”
“Huh, but... why the change of heart?” he asked, his voice quieter now, as if he were trying to figure me out. “You were so against it before.”
I shrugged, looking back toward the city lights. “Let’s just say I’ve been thinking. You’re leaving soon, my blind dates are piling up, and honestly? I’m tired of dodging them or being a bitch to random guys I don’t even care about. Might as well go with the flow for a while.”
His lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but for once, he seemed at a loss for words.
“So, what’s it going to be?” I asked, my tone as casual as I could manage. “Do you want my help or not?”
Jin studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, a slow smile crept onto his face, the kind that made it impossible to tell whether he was thrilled, amused, or scheming.
“Well,” he said, his voice teasing but with a serious undertone, “I guess I’d be a fool to say no to an offer like that. Let’s do it, noona.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Good. Don’t make me regret this.”
“You won’t,” Jin said, his voice holding a hint of sincerity. “And who knows? This might actually be fun.”
I gave him a skeptical look, already questioning my life choices. “Yeah, sure. Fun. Let’s go with that.”
***
When Jin and I walked back to the table, I could practically feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on us. It wasn’t like we’d been gone that long, just enough time to quickly set a whole marriage ... arrangement, but being gone together had clearly sparked some curiosity.
Jin, of course, acted like it was no big deal, sliding back into his chair. I followed suit, keeping my eyes down as I sat and busied myself with my water glass, praying no one would ask questions.
"So," my mom started, tone playful as she looked between us. "Did you two get lost on the way back?"
"Hardly," Jin answered smoothly, picking up his chopsticks. "Y/N just wanted to admire the view a bit longer. Can’t blame her, it’s a beautiful evening."
I shot him a sharp look, but he only smirked, clearly enjoying himself.
"Admiring the view, huh?" My dad chuckled, raising a brow.
"Ah, leave them be," Jin’s dad added with a grin. "Young people need time to themselves. Isn’t that right, Jin?"
"Of course," Jin said, as if this was all perfectly normal. "Besides, it turns out Y/N is great company after all."
I nearly choked on my drink. Great company?
"Great company, huh?" Jin’s mom chimed in, her eyes twinkling.
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of small talk and laughter. Our families traded stories, Jin and I taking turns deflecting any comments that veered too close to the idea of us.
At one point, my dad started recounting an embarrassing childhood memory, and I could feel Jin’s eyes on me the entire time, as if memorizing every detail for future teasing.
"And that’s how she ended up stuck in the tree for two hours," my dad finished with a hearty laugh.
I groaned, sinking lower in my seat. "You didn’t have to tell that story, Dad."
"But it’s a good one," Jin said, clearly amused. "I’ll keep it in mind next time we’re near any trees."
I glared at him, but the smirk on his face made it clear he wasn’t the least bit sorry.
As the plates were cleared and everyone began saying their goodbyes, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of relief and dread. The evening was finally over, but now the real challenge lay ahead, our so-called fake marriage plan.
As we stood by the door, Jin leaned in just enough for me to hear.
"Don’t forget," he said, his tone low and teasing. "We’re meeting at 3 p.m. on Saturday to discuss this further. Try not to be late."
"I won’t," I replied, forcing a smile.
He grinned, stepping back.
***
When I walked into the café, Jin was already there, scrolling on his phone. He was wearing a hat pulled low over his hair and a mask, the universal idol uniform for staying “low profile.” On the table sat two iced Americanos. He glanced up when the door chimed and waved lazily, his hand barely lifting from the table.
"You’re late," he said as I reached the table, his tone teasing. "How dare you make Jin wait?"
"Sorry, I don’t have a private chauffeur at my back to call," I shot back, slipping into the chair across from him.
"Excuses, excuses," he replied, sliding the second Americano toward me. "You’re lucky I’m a generous man."
I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of the drink. "And you’re lucky I don’t have another option."
The banter died down quickly, replaced by an awkward silence as we both sipped our drinks. I could feel the weight of what we were about to discuss hanging between us like an invisible curtain. Someone had to rip it down, and apparently, that someone was me.
"So," I said, setting my cup down. "Let’s talk about the terms of this... arrangement."
Jin raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Arrangement? You make it sound like a business deal."
"Isn’t it?" I shot back. "You need to fix your image after the... situation with your cousin. And I need to get my parents off my back about blind dates. We both get something out of this."
He tilted his head thoughtfully, then gestured for me to continue.
"Okay, so here’s what I’m thinking," I began, leaning forward. "We need to make it public enough to shut people up but private enough to protect our personal lives. That means no pictures of my face, no interviews about our ‘relationship,’ and definitely no fake social media posts."
Jin nodded slowly, his lips twitching like he was holding back a smile. "Go on."
"We can appear together a few times at family events or somewhere low-key where the media can ‘accidentally’ spot us," I continued. "But I’m not about to start living my life under a microscope just because you had a PR nightmare."
His eyes sparkled with amusement, but he didn’t interrupt.
"And," I added, "if anyone asks, the story is simple: we’ve known each other through our parents, reconnected recently, and decided to give it a shot. No elaborate backstory, no unnecessary details."
"Sounds reasonable," Jin said, nodding. "But what about public appearances outside of family events? You know the media’s going to dig for proof."
"I thought about that," I admitted. "If we’re out somewhere public, we stick to places you can control, cafés like this one, maybe a charity event or two. But I won’t let my face show. Sunglasses, hats, or whatever else I need to stay anonymous."
"And if the media catches on anyway?" he asked, his tone curious rather than skeptical.
"Then we deal with it together," I said firmly. "But on my terms. My privacy isn’t negotiable."
And then for a moment, Jin just stared at me, his gaze unreadable. It was the kind of look that made you feel like you were being assessed, like he was trying to decide whether to take you seriously or turn this into another joke.
Finally, he leaned back in his chair, the corners of his lips tugging upward into a slow, deliberate grin.
"You’ve really thought this through," he said, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.
"Someone has to," I replied, fiddling with the straw of my drink.
Jin took a long sip of his Americano, his eyes never leaving mine. When he set the cup back down, he tilted his head slightly, as if still processing what I’d said.
"Okay," he said finally, his voice calm and steady. "I agree with your terms. We’ll do it your way."
"Seriously?" I asked, not expecting him to cave so easily.
"Why not?" he said with a shrug. "You’re right, I need this arrangement to work as much as you do. And honestly..." He leaned forward, his grin turning teasing. "I’m kind of impressed. I didn’t expect you to be so... thorough."
"Thorough," I repeated dryly.
"It’s a compliment," he insisted, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "You’re smart, and you’ve clearly thought this through. I’m just saying, you might make a better business partner than some people I actually work with."
"Great," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Glad I’m fake-wife material and business savvy."
Jin chuckled, clearly entertained by my sarcasm. "Don’t sell yourself short. This could be the start of something... memorable."
"Memorable for all the wrong reasons," I muttered, shaking my head.
He smirked, tapping his fingers against the edge of his cup. "Then let’s make it memorable for the right reasons instead."
Before I could respond, he stood up, stretching slightly. "I’ll send you the details for our first ‘public appearance.’ I’ll make sure it’s low-key, so you don’t have to worry about being front-page news. Yet."
I frowned. "Yet?"
"Come on," he teased, pulling his hat lower as he prepared to leave. "You’re about to become Mrs. Worldwide Handsome. You didn’t think we’d stay low-key forever, did you?"
I opened my mouth to retort, but he was already waving as he headed for the door, his laughter trailing behind him.
I slumped back in my chair, staring at the two empty cups on the table.
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
***
Two days had passed since I met Jin at the café, and honestly, I still wasn’t sure what to make of the whole situation. He’d texted me a few times, but there was something about the silence between us that made it feel... uncertain. I didn’t know where things were headed, but something told me it wasn’t going to be simple.
That morning, I found myself at work, trying to focus on my tasks and block out everything else. The office was relatively quiet, and I was grateful for the peace. I wasn’t sure how to explain it, but being back in Korea after spending so many years in America felt... off. It wasn’t that I didn’t love this country, but it was strange. Everything felt new again, even though it was familiar. Maybe that’s why I’d been thinking so much about leaving. Maybe I wasn’t ready to settle yet. Just as I was staring at my computer screen, trying to push my thoughts aside, my phone buzzed. It was my mom.
“Y/N, honey, are you coming over this weekend? I have a new blind date lined up for you.”
I groaned, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Mom, please. No more blind dates.”
There was a short pause on the other end before she replied, “But why not? You haven’t been on one in ages. He’s a nice guy, from a good family.”
I bit my lip, trying to think of a way to end the conversation without causing too much of a scene. “I’m fine, Mom. Trust me, no need. I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?” she pressed. “It’s not good to be so closed off, Y/N.”
“I’ll be fine. You’ll see.” I didn’t feel like arguing anymore, so I ended the conversation before she could press further.
I stared at my phone for a moment before it buzzed again. This time it was a message from WORLDWIDE UGLY... I chuckled at the nickname I’d given Jin on my phone.
“Meet me tomorrow at 3 p.m. Here's the address . Don’t be late.”
Following that the other text was a link with the location he mentioned. I couldn't help but smile at the abruptness of his text. He always had a way of keeping things mysterious. No explanation, no details, just a time and place. It was probably some random spot for our... date, but I guess I would find out tomorrow.
I quickly typed a response, though I wasn’t sure what to say. Part of me wanted to be sarcastic, but another part of me wanted to go along with it, keep things light.
"Noted. I’ll be there... on time."
I hit send before second-guessing myself, setting my phone aside as I tried to get back to work. But the thought of the next day loomed over me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this whole situation was about to get a lot more complicated.
***
The next day, I arrived at the location Jin had sent. It was an unusual spot, quiet, with a serene view of the water and a couple of old wooden docks that stretched out into a peaceful lake. It looked... like a fishing spot, though I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect. Fishing for a first date? Honestly, I didn’t know what kind of weird, romantic stunt he was pulling, but here I was. I’d agreed to show up, and I was on time, for once.
I scanned the area and spotted him immediately. Jin stood there by the edge of the water, wearing a cap and casual clothes, a fishing rod in his hand, looking completely in his element. I felt a little out of place in my outfit, but then again, he looked like he was dressed for the part, and I had no idea how this was supposed to work. Was I going to have to fish too?
I walked over to him, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it all. As I got closer, I raised an eyebrow and couldn’t help myself.
“We’re fishing??” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “So romantic.”
Jin looked at me and smirked, his usual confidence shining through. “What’s wrong? You don’t find it romantic?” he teased, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to go fishing on a date.
I crossed my arms, trying to hold back a smile. "It’s not what I expected, that’s for sure."
He grinned, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing. "Well, now that you’re here, you might as well give it a try."
I rolled my eyes, but I was already curious. What was he really planning?
Jin took a deep breath, looking out at the water for a moment before turning back to me. “I do this when I need to get away from everything,” he explained casually, like it was no big deal. “Fishing’s been a hobby of mine for a long time. Helps me clear my head.”
I raised an eyebrow, still trying to process the oddness of it all. Fishing was... relaxing, I guessed? But it was hard to imagine the busy idol life meshing with something so peaceful.
“You’re serious?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around it. “Fishing, as a hobby?”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I know it’s not the most exciting thing for some people, but it works for me. And my fans—ARMY—actually know about it. If I show up with someone again and there’s any hint of... well, anything between us, the rumors will start flying.”
I frowned, catching onto what he meant. “You mean, if they see you with me, they’ll think we’re involved because of the whole... cousin accident thing.”
Jin nodded, his expression turning a bit more serious. “Exactly. They already think there’s something more going on there. If we’re spotted, they’ll make the connection, and that’s just more fuel for the fire. I figured if we’re going to play along with the idea of us being... ‘together,’ then it should be on my terms, somewhere neutral.” I felt a strange mix of surprise and discomfort at his honesty. He really had thought this through.
“So, this whole ‘fishing date’ thing is your way of controlling the narrative?” I asked, half amused, half impressed.
He shrugged, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Pretty much. And I thought you might like the idea of something more... private. No crowds, not too many people . Just... us and the water.”
I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On one hand, it made sense, he was trying to protect both of us from unwanted attention. But on the other hand... this was still all so strange.
“Well,” I said, trying to keep my tone light, “at least you’re honest about it. Guess I’ll give this fishing thing a try.”
I sat down next to Jin, my eyes scanning the empty stretch of the fishing spot. It was so quiet, almost eerily so. I couldn’t see anyone nearby, no photographers, no fans lurking in the distance.
“So,” I started, turning to him with a slight smirk. “How will the paparazzi find us? There’s no one here.”
Jin’s lips curled up into a knowing smile as he leaned back slightly, his gaze still fixed on the water. “That’s what you think.”
I furrowed my brow, not entirely sure what he meant. “What do you mean?”
He glanced at me, his expression playful but with a hint of seriousness. “They don’t need to be physically here. The moment they get wind of me being at a spot like this, they’ll set up shop. Someone will post it online, a fan will notice me, and boom, the rumors will start.”
I let out a soft laugh, still trying to wrap my mind around how quickly things could escalate. “It’s that easy, huh? A fan spots you fishing and suddenly we’re in the middle of a scandal.”
“Pretty much,” he said, with a bit of a shrug. “That’s why I’m being careful. I don’t want things getting out of hand, especially with what happened with the cousin situation.”
I couldn’t argue with that logic, though I was still processing everything. It felt like I was living in some sort of alternate reality, where every simple action was potentially a headline.
“Well, I guess I should thank you for keeping me in the loop about all of this,” I said, feeling a little awkward but trying to make light of it.
Jin gave a quick nod. “You’re welcome. I don’t want you to get caught up in anything you don’t want to be part of. And besides, we’re in this together now, right?”
I nodded slowly, unsure if he was trying to be reassuring or just being his usual, laid-back self. “Right. Together... Fishing and all.”
He chuckled at my tone. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it. It’s actually kind of relaxing, once you get the hang of it.”
I raised an eyebrow, glancing at the rod in my hands. “Relaxing, huh? Let’s see if I can manage not to accidentally hook myself first.”
I gave the rod a few swings, each time being worse than the last.
“Okay, yeah, this isn’t going well,” I muttered under my breath.
Jin turned to me with an amused smile, clearly trying to hide his laughter. “You’re definitely not a natural,” he teased gently.
I rolled my eyes, frustrated. “Thanks for the encouragement.”
He stood up from his spot on the rocks and walked over to me, his tone softer now. “Alright, let me help you.”
He took the rod from my hands and stood behind me, positioning himself just close enough that I could feel his presence but not too close to make it awkward. His hands gently wrapped around mine, guiding me as he positioned the rod correctly.
“Hold it like this,” he instructed, his breath warm against my ear. “You need to keep a steady grip, but don’t tense up. Relax your hands.”
I tried to focus on his words, but it was hard not to be distracted by the proximity. His hand was on top of mine, guiding it carefully, and I couldn’t help but notice how gentle yet firm his touch was.
“Alright, now cast it out. Gently,” he said, his voice calm.
With his help, I cast the line out into the water. This time, it didn’t get tangled, and I managed to get it to a decent distance.
“Not bad,” Jin said with a satisfied grin. “You’re getting the hang of it.”
I couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief. “Thank God. I was about to give up and throw the rod in the lake.”
He laughed lightly. “I don’t think I’d let you do that.”
We stood there for a moment, both watching the line as it drifted with the current. It felt... surprisingly peaceful. I could hear the faint sound of birds in the distance and the rustle of leaves in the wind, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. It was just... calming.
“See? It’s not so bad,” Jin said, his eyes flicking over to me. “You might actually start liking this.”
“Maybe,” I said with a shrug. “But I’m still not sure it’s my idea of a ‘first date.’”
Jin smiled, his gaze softening. “Maybe not, but I think it’s a good way to get to know each other... without distractions.”
I met his gaze, unsure of what to say. For the first time since we’d started this whole weird arrangement, I actually felt a little less on edge.
We continued fishing in silence for a while longer, the sun beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting everything in a warm golden light. There was a sense of quiet companionship between us, and though the day had started out awkward, it somehow felt... comfortable.
I was still trying to get the hang of it when I felt a strong tug on the line. My eyes widened, and I instinctively gripped the rod tighter.
“I think I got something!” I said, excitement building in my chest.
Jin looked over at me, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “There you go. You’re doing it!”
The rod bent dangerously as whatever I’d hooked put up a serious fight. My arms strained with the effort of keeping the line steady, and I could feel the tension building as I tried to reel it in. But no matter how much I pulled, it didn’t seem to give.
"Come on, you've got this," Jin encouraged, standing a little closer, his voice low and steady. "Just pull harder. Be stronger."
I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the strain in my arms and focus on the task. With all my might, I pulled again. The fish fought back, jerking in the water, but I was determined not to let it get away.
“Steady, steady,” Jin said, his tone becoming more serious. “Just a little more—”
But suddenly, the rod jerked so forcefully that I lost my balance. My feet slipped on the wet platform we were standing on, and before I could catch myself, I was sliding towards the edge of the water.
“Whoa, no!” I gasped, my heart racing as I felt myself tumbling.
Before I could react, Jin grabbed my arm, but in the chaos, he lost his footing too. With a grunt, he fell into the water beside me, and I felt myself splashing down with him.
We both hit the water with a splash that was a lot louder than I expected, and for a brief second, everything went silent. I blinked, disoriented by the cold rush of water around me.
I splashed around, still trying to get my bearings in the water. My frustration was mounting as I glared at Jin, who was floating next to me with that unbothered, amused expression.
"This is your fault!" I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the water sloshing around. "You—you—made me fish, and now look at us. Soaked."
Jin chuckled, not at all concerned by the freezing water around us. “Well, you were doing so well at first, I thought you’d have it under control. I was just giving you some ‘encouragement.’"
I rolled my eyes, splashing some water at him in protest. "Oh, sure, encouragement. This was your idea, and now we’re both in the water!"
He grinned, splashing back at me. “Hey, I was trying to help. Besides, this is way more fun than sitting around, right? Who cares if we’re wet?"
“Easy for you to say!” I snapped, my teeth chattering slightly from the cold. "You're used to this, aren't you? But I just learned how to fish and now I’m practically swimming with the fish!"
“Better than catching them,” he teased, “You’ll be a pro by the end of this, don’t worry.”
I let out an exaggerated sigh, trying to ignore how cold the water felt against my skin. “This is not how I thought this first date would go.”
Jin’s smile didn’t falter as he shrugged. “Well, in my defense, I didn’t say this was a date. Just a... fishing trip."
“Oh, don’t try to back out now," I replied with a mock glare. "You made this happen. You’re the one who wanted me here."
“True,” he said, his voice suddenly softening. “But, honestly, I thought we’d get some fishing done and have a good time. Guess I underestimated how dramatic the whole thing would get.”
I couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it all. Here I was, standing in a pond with Jin, soaking wet, arguing about fishing like it was a crime. Yet, for some strange reason, it wasn’t all bad.
"Well, now that we're here," I said with a smirk, "I guess I have no choice but to make the best of it."
The cold water still clung to me, making it hard to focus as I splashed water at Jin in frustration. I couldn’t stop laughing at how absurd this situation was, but it didn’t stop me from getting the upper hand for once. Jin, caught off guard by my playful attack, immediately retaliated, splashing me right back.
I giggled, backing up as I started to swim toward the shore, wanting to get away from the water. But before I could get far, Jin was faster, catching my wrist and stopping me in my tracks. I opened my mouth to protest, but then my gaze was pulled to something in the distance.
“Jin... I think—”
“I know,” he cut me off, his expression suddenly serious. “The paparazzi. Shit, this is bad.”
I looked around, my heart racing as I realized what was happening. We were soaked, awkwardly floating in the water, and now... they were here. The flashing lights were a dead giveaway.
“Look at us,” I muttered under my breath, a sense of dread sinking in. This was not how I imagined getting caught by the paparazzi.
“What now?” Jin asked, his tone urgent but oddly calm.
I smirked, shaking my head. “Let’s just give them a show,” I said, the idea forming in my head. “You trust me?”
Jin blinked, clearly confused, but before he could respond, I turned my body to face him. “Hold me,” I said, my voice firm despite the ridiculousness of the request.
His eyes widened in confusion, but I didn’t give him time to question it. Without waiting for a response, I wrapped my leg around his torso and my arms around his neck. I heard his breath catch as I leaned in closer, hiding my face from the direction the flash had come from.
“Y/N... what are you doing?” he asked, his voice laced with confusion.
“Hiding my face,” I replied with a playful grin, keeping my voice low so the cameras wouldn’t hear me. “And being romantic. Just follow what I say.”
I could see Jin’s ears turn pink as he processed what I was asking him to do. I felt a sense of satisfaction at how flustered he looked, but I didn’t want to linger in the awkwardness for long.
“Uh, okay,” he muttered, clearly unsure of what to do. But I could tell that he was trying his best to roll with it.
“Now, you’re going to get us back to the shore,” I whispered, leaning closer to his ear. “And I’m going to wear the hat in your fishing bag. Then we’re going to run to my car. I should have a towel for the gym, and you can call your agency to pick up your stuff. We just need to get out of here, Jin.”
His hand wrapped around my hips as he nodded, holding me tighter as he began to swim us back to the shore. I could feel the warmth of his hands against my skin, and for a moment, it almost felt like we were in our own little world, apart from the flashing lights, the cameras, and the chaos around us.
As we reached the shore I stepped out of his grip and grabbed the hat from the bag, quickly pulling it over my head to hide my face from the cameras. The sound of more flashes went off behind us, but Jin and I kept our eyes focused on the path ahead. He squeezed my side, a silent understanding passing between us.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice low and resolute.
We reached the car in no time, the tension from the paparazzi still hanging in the air. My hands were shaky, but I pushed through it, opening the trunk to shield us and grabbing the towel I always kept in the back. Without thinking too much,I pulled it over Jin’s head, my lips twitching into a teasing grin as I sat down on the trunk for a moment, my legs wobbling from the previous event.
“Here, you look like you need this more than I do,” I said, trying to hide the amusement on my face.
Jin froze, blinking at me like he wasn’t sure how to react. His wet hair clung to his face, and the towel barely stayed in place as he looked at me, wide-eyed.
“I—I didn’t expect this to be how it’d go,” he stammered, his voice almost sheepish.
I tried not to laugh, but it was hard. “Yeah, well, who would’ve thought? But hey, I think you look better with a towel on your head. Very... mysterious.”
Jin laughed awkwardly, running his hand through his damp hair and making it worse. His face turned a light pink, clearly caught off guard by the entire situation. "I—uh, I don’t really know how to handle this," he admitted, looking at me like I was the one making all the decisions.
I tried to hide my amusement, but I couldn’t stop teasing him. “Stop acting like your first dates haven’t been bad.”
Jin blinked at me, clearly thrown off by my response. “I’ve never been on a proper date,” he admitted, sounding a bit sheepish.
I raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what? You’ve never been on a proper date?”
Jin shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his wet hair. “I mean, my mom set me up with people before , but she was there too. It was weird.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “Wait, so you’ve never dated anyone without your mom tagging along?”
He shrugged awkwardly. “I guess not.”
I let out a dramatic gasp. “No way. So you must be bad at kissing too, huh?”
Jin’s eyes widened, his face turning redder than I thought possible. “What? No, that’s not—”
“Damn, my husband’s so inexperienced. Your skills in bed must be—”
Before I could finish my teasing, Jin quickly covered my mouth with his hand, cutting me off. His face was bright red, and I could tell he was embarrassed beyond belief.
“I’ve kissed before, okay?” he muttered, clearly flustered.
I grinned beneath his hand, pushing it away. “I doubt it.”
Jin’s eyes narrowed at me, though there was still a hint of embarrassment in them. “I have, though! Just... not the way you're making it sound.”
I laughed, feeling a little too entertained by his discomfort. “So what now, huh?”
Jin took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but I could tell he was still feeling a bit flustered. “Honestly, though, what now? We can’t exactly go back to fishing, and you’re not going to have your agency show up in the middle of us being soaked like this.”
Jin removed the towel from around his neck and, without a second thought, draped it over my torso. I raised an eyebrow, not entirely sure what to make of the gesture. “What are you doing?”
He glanced down at my shirt and then quickly looked away. “Your shirt was... ah, never mind.”
I stared at him, not quite understanding why he was acting so awkward. He cleared his throat and took a step back. “I’ll call the agency to pick up our stuff.”
He pulled out his phone, and I watched him for a moment as he dialed. I found myself distracted by the way his broad shoulders moved as he spoke. I tried not to stare too long, but before I could look away, I noticed his eyes flicking in my direction. I quickly turned my gaze to the floor, feeling a sudden heat spread across my face. What was happening? It was just Jin, right? Just... Jin.
He finished the call, and when he stepped back over, I felt a little self-conscious about how close we’d gotten. “They said they’ll pick up the stuff,” he said, his voice a little softer now.
I shifted in my seat, trying to act casual, but my mind was still buzzing from the momentary heat that had crept up on me. I cleared my throat and looked at Jin. “You should come over to mine.”
Jin blinked, clearly thrown off by my suggestion. I waved my hand dismissively before he could talk. “Just come. I have spare guy clothes, and it’ll be quicker than waiting around. “You’re going to catch a cold if you stay here anyway.”
Jin looked at me, slightly confused. “Why do you have—””
Before he could argue further, I slid out of the trunk and hopped over to the driver’s seat, not giving him much of a chance to protest. My hands were already on the wheel as I started the engine, casting a quick glance at him.
“Come on,” I said, trying to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “We’re not getting any warmer out here.”
Jin hesitated for a second before letting out a resigned sigh and following me to the passenger side, still looking a bit unsure but clearly not wanting to argue anymore.
***
As we pulled up to my house, I parked the car and turned off the engine. Jin sat there for a moment, looking at the modest place before finally stepping out of the car. I didn’t wait for him, heading straight to the door and unlocking it. “Come on,” I called over my shoulder. “
Jin followed me inside, glancing around as I kicked off my shoes and headed to my room. “Make yourself comfortable or something,” I said, disappearing into the bedroom to rummage through my closet. I grabbed an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of loose sweatpants that I figured would work. When I returned to the living room with the clothes in hand, Jin was standing there, staring at them with his brows furrowed in disbelief.
“Why do you even have these?” he asked, clearly baffled.
I smirked, tossing the clothes onto the sofa and crossing my arms. “What, you think just because I’m not married I don’t have a life?”
His expression turned sheepish as he tried to find the words to respond. I raised an eyebrow, not letting him off the hook so easily. “Look, I grew up in America, okay? What do you guys call it? Open-minded, right?”
Jin opened his mouth, then closed it again, seemingly deciding it was better not to comment. He just nodded and cleared his throat. “Uh, thanks. Where’s the bathroom?”
“Down the hall on the left,” I said, pointing the way. “Go change. I’ll grab something for myself too.”
I left him to it and went back to my room, changing into comfortable loungewear. When I returned to the living room, I found Jin standing awkwardly near the couch, holding up the waistband of the sweatpants with both hands.
The sight was too much. The sweatpants were ridiculously oversized on him, and he looked utterly exasperated trying to keep them up. I couldn’t stop the grin that spread across my face. “Wow, struggling much?”
“These pants are enormous,” he grumbled, his ears already starting to turn red. “Do you have a belt or something?”
I leaned against the doorway, laughing openly now. “Who knew? I never thought Worldwide Handsome would have trouble filling out a pair of sweatpants. Is this a size issue, Jin? Are you just... small?”
His face turned an even deeper shade of red as he shot me a flustered glare. “I am not small! These pants are just ridiculously big!”
“Sure, sure,” I teased, smirking at him. “For the record, I definitely like big... but this is just hilarious.”
Jin spluttered, clearly too flustered to come up with a decent comeback. “Y-you—unbelievable!” he muttered, tugging the sweatpants up again with more force.
I shrugged nonchalantly. “Okay, okay if you’re really struggling, I might have a drawstring or something to help you out.”
He huffed in defeat, muttering, “Please, before these things fall off entirely.”
I grabbed a drawstring from the cabinet nearby and walked over to Jin, who was still clutching the oversized waistband with an almost comical amount of effort. “Alright, hold still,” I said, kneeling slightly to loop the drawstring around his hips.
Jin stood rigid, his arms awkwardly hovering at his sides. “I can do it myself, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “Sure, if you want to spend another ten minutes struggling and another five trying not to trip on the way out. Just let me help.”
As I tugged and tightened the makeshift belt around his waist, Jin seemed to grow stiffer, his gaze fixed firmly on the far wall. “This is... unnecessarily close,” he muttered under his breath.
I smirked as I finished tying the knot. “Relax, Worldwide Handsome. I’m just helping out. It’s not like I’m admiring the view.”
That earned me a flustered cough. “You’re unbelievable.”
I stepped back and grinned up at him. “There, all set. Now you’re safe from a wardrobe malfunction.”
“Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, his ears turning pink.
I headed to the kitchen, pulling out a kettle and setting it on the stove. “You like tea, right? Or is Worldwide Handsome more of a coffee guy?”
“Tea’s fine,” he replied, taking a seat at the small dining table and eyeing the kitchen with mild curiosity. “Do you always talk like that?”
“Like what?” I asked innocently as I pulled mugs from the cabinet.
“You know. All the... teasing,” he said, gesturing vaguely.
“Oh, sorry,” I said, leaning on the counter with a cheeky grin. “Did I hurt your ego? Should I sprinkle some compliments next time to soften the blow?”
Jin huffed, but I could see the corners of his mouth twitching. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet you’re still here,” I shot back, filling the mugs with hot water and dropping tea bags into each. “Guess that says something about you.”
“Yeah, that I have no choice but to be here because I was soaked, and you insisted,” he said, crossing his arms, though his tone wasn’t exactly convincing.
I brought the mugs over to the table and slid one toward him. “Admit it, you’re having fun.”
“Sure,” he replied, raising the mug to his lips. “If by ‘fun,’ you mean being endlessly teased while wearing pants that nearly fell off.”
I laughed, sipping my tea. “You’ll survive.”
Just as he opened his mouth to respond, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen and sighed. “It’s my manager.”
“Go ahead,” I said, motioning for him to answer.
Jin picked up the call, his voice steady as he greeted his manager. “Yeah, we’re fine. No, don’t worry. Just soaked. Can you—oh, hang on.” He turned to me, lowering the phone. “He needs the address to drop off our stuff.”
I gave him a quick nod. “Sure. Give it to him.”
He passed the phone over to me, and I rattled off my address before handing it back. “Thanks. See you soon,” Jin said, ending the call. He set the phone back on the table and gave me a curious look. “So, how did you end up being so... prepared for guests, anyway?”
I smirked. “What, you think just because I live alone, I don’t have a social life? Or did the guy clothes throw you off again?”
He groaned. “Do I even want to know?”
“Probably not,” I said with a wink. “But you can keep guessing.”
A short while later, a knock at the door announced the arrival of Jin’s manager. I opened it to see a professionally dressed man holding a neatly packed bag. He gave me a polite nod before glancing inside and spotting Jin.
“Here’s everything you left behind,” the manager said, stepping inside just enough to hand over the bag. “Are you sure you’re okay? It’s unlike you to leave without warning.”
Jin, now a little more composed in his improvised outfit, waved him off. “I’m fine. Things just... didn’t go as planned.” He shot me a quick glance, which I returned with a completely innocent expression.
“Uh-huh,” the manager said, not entirely convinced. “Make sure you dry off properly. Don’t want you to catch a cold.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you later,” Jin replied quickly, already at the door getting the bag out of my hands.
The manager’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, as if trying to piece together what exactly had transpired. I gave him a polite smile, resisting the urge to laugh outright.
Jin got to the doorway and turned back. “Thanks for... everything.”
“No problem,” I replied, my lips twitching into a grin. “Try not to let the pants fall off on your way out.”
His ears turned pink again as he muttered something under his breath and stepped out, closing the door firmly behind him.
The moment Jin left and the door clicked shut, I couldn’t hold it in anymore. A laugh bubbled up, and I sank onto the couch, clutching my stomach. The whole situation replayed in my head. It was all so ridiculous that it felt like a scene straight out of a comedy movie.
“He really didn’t know what to do with himself,” I said aloud, chuckling softly. The memory of his flustered expression while trying to keep the oversized pants up made me laugh even harder. Shaking my head, I leaned back on the couch, still grinning. Somehow, the day had gone from an unexpected disaster to one of the most amusing afternoons I’d had in a long time.
As I finally composed myself from laughing, an idea popped into my head. Grinning, I grabbed my phone and opened up the messaging app.
Y/N: Next time, I’m deciding the theme for the date. 😂
I hit send, imagining the mix of confusion and indignation on Jin’s face as he read it. A minute later, my phone buzzed with his reply.
Jin: What do you mean “next time”?
I smirked, my fingers flying over the keyboard.
Y/N: Oh, come on. You’re telling me you didn’t enjoy yourself?
There was a slight delay before his response came through.
Jin: Enjoy is a strong word… but fine, it wasn’t awful. Happy?
I chuckled at his reluctant tone.
Y/N: Wow, high praise coming from you. Okay, but next time, no fishing. Something more… my style.
Jin: Define “your style.”
Y/N: You'll find out. 😏
The little typing indicator appeared, disappeared, and then came back before his response finally arrived.
Jin: Fine. But if it’s worse than today, I’m holding you responsible.
Y/N: Deal. Just don’t forget to bring dry clothes. 😉
Jin: I’m regretting this already.
I laughed out loud, shaking my head. Whether he admitted it or not, he was going to show up for the next one. After all, I wasn’t about to let him live this day down so easily.
The next morning, the headlines were everywhere. Although my face wasn’t showing, the pictures were enough to spark a frenzy, a blurry shot of me hugging Jin, another with my head tilted so it definitely looked like I was kissing him. The world was having a field day with it, and I couldn’t decide if I was more amused or horrified. After scrolling through endless comments and articles, I finally decided to call Jin. He picked up quickly, his voice calm despite everything.
“Hey,” he said, sounding tired but composed. “I was wondering when you’d call.”
“Hey,” I replied, gripping my phone tightly. “So... I take it you've seen the photos.”
“Oh, I’ve seen them,” he said with a dry laugh. “I’m at the company now. We’re figuring out the next move.”
“And what’s the plan?” I asked, pacing my living room.
He sighed. “They’re thinking about releasing a statement saying I’m dating someone. Nothing final yet, but it’s the simplest way to control the narrative.”
I paused, biting my lip. “So you’re really going to go along with it?”
“Well, that was kind of the point, wasn’t it?” he said, his tone light but with a hint of something more serious beneath it. “The photos were supposed to look like a date. We just didn’t expect the whole falling in the water part to happen.”
I laughed despite myself. “Right. The ‘romantic and composed’ part of the plan didn’t exactly pan out, huh?”
“Not exactly,” he admitted, chuckling. “But hey, at least they got something usable. Even if...”
“Even if I look like I’m kissing you” I finished for him, unable to resist teasing.
He groaned. “Don’t remind me. My manager hasn’t stopped making jokes about that all morning.”
“Oh, come on,” I said, grinning. “You have to admit it’s kind of funny. I mean, the great Kim Seokjin was caught in such a compromising position. Truly a scandal for the ages.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, though I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I mean, can you blame me? It’s not every day you hear the ‘Worldwide Handsome’ get roasted by his own team.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, clearly trying not to laugh. “But in all seriousness, are you okay with this? I know it’s a lot.”
I hesitated for a moment, then shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. “I mean, it’s not like anyone can tell it’s me, right? So as long as you’re okay, I’m okay.”
“Good,” he said, his tone softening. “And just so you know, if they do go with the dating story, I’ll make sure they keep you completely out of it.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling to myself. “But if they ask, can you tell them to get better angles next time? I mean, honestly, when you were holding me, your face looked like you were terrified to even touch me. What’s the matter? Afraid I might bite?"
I could practically hear his breath hitch on the other end, and I waited for his response, enjoying the teasing.
“I wasn’t terrified,” he said quickly, his voice a little strained. “It’s just... I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to do.”
“Oh really?” I teased, still grinning. “You looked like you were trying not to crush me or something. I don’t bite, you know.”
There was a slight pause, and I could practically picture him floundering on the other end, trying to figure out how to respond. “I was just... being careful. Didn’t want to—”
I let out a soft laugh, cutting him off. “Oh, I get it. You were worried about getting too close, huh? Is that it?”
His voice dropped slightly, defensive but flustered. “It’s not like that. I just... wasn’t sure how to handle the situation.”
“Right, right,” I said, my grin widening. “Well, next time you’re holding me, just try to look a little less like you’re about to pass out from the pressure.”
Jin sighed dramatically, his embarrassment practically oozing through the phone. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good,” I said with a smirk. "Maybe next time you'll actually look like you want to hold me."
I could hear him muttering something on the other end, his voice softer now, clearly too flustered to continue the conversation.
“Alright, alright,” he mumbled. “I’ll make sure to do better next time.”
And with that, he ended the call.
***
Two days later, Jin called me to update me on the company's decision. “The company’s decided to release the statement in a week,” he said, sounding a bit stressed but determined. “They want us to go on at least one more date. It has to be low-key, less scandalous this time. No surprises.”
I thought for a moment, then gave him my suggestion. “How about a quiet restaurant, something low-profile? We can meet a little earlier, maybe go in together to avoid being caught off-guard by any paparazzi. We can do this without all the chaos.”
Jin seemed to appreciate the suggestion. “That sounds perfect. I’ll book the place and we’ll meet earlier like you said. We can keep it under the radar.”
“Exactly,” I agreed, trying to keep things casual. “No more drama. Just a simple dinner."
We both laughed a little, but I could sense that this situation was starting to feel like a strange dance we were both learning to navigate, one where the steps had to be cautious, calculated.
“Alright,” Jin said, his voice sounding a little more relaxed. “I’ll take care of the details. I’ll see you in a few days then?”
“Yep,” I replied, smiling to myself. “See you soon.”
***
The day of the date came quickly and luckily I had taken a day off from work. Now, I stood in front of my mirror, staring at my reflection. The excitement that had crept up on me was unexpected, and I wasn’t entirely sure why it was there. Why was I excited about tonight? Was it because I was going out with Jin again? It didn’t make sense, but the feeling was there. Going out with him was different from anything I’d experienced before. There was no need to overthink every little detail. With Jin, I didn’t have to be anyone other than myself. No judgment, no calculations in my head, just... me. And maybe that’s why tonight felt a little more special, a little easier.
I took a deep breath as I stepped out of the door, trying to calm the flutter in my chest that seemed to follow me wherever I went. I wasn’t sure why this time felt different, but I pushed the thought aside.
I sent Jin a quick text saying I’d be there soon and that I’d meet him a few blocks away from the restaurant. When I arrived, I spotted Jin standing under a streetlight. He was dressed casually in a hoodie, but with a stylish coat over it, giving off a more polished vibe. His mask was perfectly fitted, and he looked effortlessly put together. As soon as he noticed me, he reached up to adjust his mask, pulling it snug over his face. I did the same, feeling a bit self-conscious, but knowing it was the right move.
"Hey," Jin said, his voice muffled by his mask. His eyes softened as he took me in, his gaze lingering for a moment before he added, "You look good."
I blinked, caught off guard by his compliment. "Uh, you too," I managed to say, a bit flustered.
Jin smiled, and before I could say anything more, he started walking towards the restaurant. I blinked for a moment, then jogged slightly to catch up with him. “Hey, where are you going?” I called out.
He glanced over his shoulder. “To the restaurant.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise, feeling a sudden surge of disbelief. “Wait, hold on—what is this?” I asked, stopping for a second to process. “We’re going to get married soon, and this is how you’re treating your ‘wife’ when we go on dates?” I laughed, though I was secretly trying to make him a little less casual about it.
Jin froze mid-step, clearly thrown by my words. His hand, which had been swinging by his side, was now clenched in a slight fist. I saw a hint of embarrassment in his face as he turned to look at me, but before he could respond, I quickly reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling it gently so we were walking hand in hand.
His ears immediately turned pink, and he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. I couldn’t help but smirk. “Now we look like a proper couple in case of any paparazzi, right?”
Jin continued to hold my hand and didn’t say anything. We walked quietly, but with our hands linked, it felt different, more real and surprisingly comforting.
***
The restaurant was warm and cozy, even though we were the only ones there. Jin had booked the entire place. We were still joking about how we’d break the news to our families that we were “getting married.”
"So, how do you think your parents are going to react?" I asked, trying to keep the mood light and playful.
Jin grinned, shaking his head. "My mom’s going to lose it. She’ll probably say, ‘Are you serious? This better not be some kind of joke.’”
I laughed. "Same here. My mom will probably be like, ‘What happened? Did I miss something? When did this happen?’"
We both chuckled, but then Jin suddenly grew serious. “But jokes aside, we need to make sure we actually act like we’re in love. If I’m being honest, I feel like we have to show it, or no one’s going to buy this.”
I shot him a pointed look. “Well, you’re not helping your case by acting like you’re ready to bolt at any second. If we’re really ‘getting married,’ shouldn’t you at least try to act like you want to be here with me? To enjoy spending time together?”
His face flushed, and he seemed to struggle for a response. “I’m trying! This isn’t easy, Y/N. It’s not just about us. There’s a lot more to it. I don’t want to mess it up, okay?”
I leaned forward, not letting him off the hook. “Well, it’s hard to believe it’s real when you act like this. You look like you’re holding your breath every time we go out, like you’re waiting for something to go wrong.”
Jin looked frustrated, clearly feeling cornered. “I’m not trying to look like that! It’s just... I don’t know how to act. This whole ‘fake marriage’ thing is... weird.”
“Exactly!” I shot back, exasperated. “It’s weird, and it’s going to look even weirder if you keep acting like you’re about to break into a cold sweat every time we’re alone together. It’s not convincing anyone.”
Jin went silent for a moment, looking conflicted, before finally letting out a deep breath. “I’ll try. I’ll work on it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You better. I’m not signing up for this ‘pretend marriage’ gig if you’re going to keep looking like you’re being tortured.”
Jin sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “You make this feel like an actual job, you know?”
I leaned back in my chair, a satisfied grin on my face. “That’s because it is. It’s a job you’re going to have to do well if you want anyone to believe this.”
He exhaled sharply, clearly growing more annoyed. “You know, it’s not like I’m doing this on purpose,” he snapped, his voice a little sharper than usual.
I raised an eyebrow, taken aback by the sudden shift. “I’m just saying you need to relax a little. Maybe it’s all this tension you’re carrying around that’s making this feel like such a big deal.”
Jin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, his gaze fixed on the table. “Maybe you should try relaxing, then,” he muttered, his tone cold.
I stared at him, unsure of what to say. The teasing, the playful back-and-forth, everything that had been lighthearted moments ago, felt like it had evaporated in an instant. The air between us shifted, thick with discomfort.
I tried to lighten the mood again, offering a nervous laugh. “Come on, Jin, we’re just kidding around here. It’s not worth getting upset over.”
But he didn’t respond, and the silence that followed made everything worse. The playful banter had turned into something else entirely, something I didn’t quite know how to handle.
“I’m not upset,” Jin said, but his tone didn’t match his words. He stared down at his phone as if trying to avoid eye contact. "I just don’t think this is as simple as you’re making it out to be.”
I sighed, not knowing how to fix this sudden tension. “Well, I’m just trying to make light of it. We don’t have to overthink everything.”
His eyes met mine for a brief moment before he looked away again. “Yeah... well, maybe you’re right,” he said, but his voice was distant now. “I think I’ve had enough for tonight.”
I felt a knot form in my stomach, the unease growing between us. I hadn’t meant for it to turn into this. I thought we were just joking, but now there was this wall between us that hadn’t been there before.
Without saying much more, we both stood up, the awkwardness between us palpable. Jin paid the bill quickly, avoiding my gaze as he did. I followed him out of the restaurant, both of us walking in silence.
When we reached the street, Jin pulled his mask back on, adjusting it hastily. The usual lightness that had once been there was completely gone. We walked a few steps before I stopped, turning to him. “I guess... I’ll see you later?”
Jin nodded, still not looking at me. “Yeah. See you.”
With that, we parted ways. I watched him walk off into the night, the tension lingering in the air. I could feel the sting of the argument, the weight of the silence between us. I couldn’t help but wonder if things had just gotten a little too complicated, or if I had said something wrong.
***
The next morning, as expected, the headlines exploded. I scrolled through the notifications on my phone, feeling a sense of dread creep up when I saw the photos. Thankfully, the pictures weren’t too revealing, our masks were on, and we’d stayed away from any windows, which gave me some relief. Still, the paparazzi was running wild with their own version of our night.
I sighed and leaned back in my chair. Despite the great time we’d had at the start of the date, the awkward tension at the end had left me with a tinge of guilt. I hadn’t meant to make things uncomfortable, but it had felt like Jin was pulling away, and I couldn’t ignore it.
Wanting to clear the air, I grabbed my phone and typed a message to Jin.
“Hey, I saw the headlines. At least the photos turned out better than last night’s vibe, right? I know things got a little awkward, but I just wanted to make sure you're good. Let me know.”
I stared at the screen for a second before hitting send. Hopefully, he wouldn’t think I was being overly concerned.
A few minutes passed, and just as I was about to put my phone down, a message notification popped up. My fingers hesitated as I opened it, unsure what kind of response I’d get. But to my surprise, Jin’s reply wasn’t dry or distant. In fact, it was... playful?
“Well, the photos came out better than expected. But last night? I don’t know... I guess I was just ‘hand’-ling things wrong.”
I blinked, not sure if I was reading that right. Did he just... make a dad joke?
“Jin, really? A dad joke?” I couldn’t help but laugh at the pun, my irritation melting away.
He responded almost instantly:
“Hey, what can I say? I’m just trying to ‘hold’ things together here.”
I laughed again, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous,” I typed back, still grinning at his attempt to lighten the mood.
“I know, I know. But in all seriousness, you’re good. And next time, I’ll hold your hand like I actually mean it, alright?” He sent back with a wink emoji.
“Well, I’ll expect nothing less than perfection. No pressure,” I teased him, feeling the playful tension between us return.
***
A few days had passed since the awkward date, and life had fallen back into its usual routine. Jin had been tied up with his schedule, so we hadn’t texted much, but honestly, I didn’t mind. I was busy with work too. Besides, things between us weren’t strained, we’d found our rhythm again, and his dad jokes still managed to make me laugh whenever we did talk.
But now, with the date for Jin's company statement about us being a couple looming closer, I couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. Would things change? Would the public reaction make things harder? It was hard not to think about it, especially since the media had already latched onto us.
As I walked out of the office, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw a call from Mom. I hesitated for a second since usually when she called, she wanted to talk about something important, and I wasn’t sure I had the energy to deal with her questions about my personal life right now. But then I remembered that I hadn’t seen her in a few days, and I couldn’t avoid her forever.
"Hey, Mom," I answered, trying to sound casual.
"Sweetheart, I’m at that little restaurant we like," she said, her voice warm and inviting. "I was thinking we could have dinner together tonight. It's been too long since we caught up. What do you say?"
I stopped in my tracks for a moment, glancing at the time. I had planned to just head home and relax, but I couldn’t say no to her. Not after all the time I’d been spending with Jin. I’d been so wrapped up in everything that I hadn’t made enough time for her.
"Sure, I’d love to. I’ll be there in about 20 minutes," I replied, already turning toward the direction of the restaurant.
"Great! I’ll see you soon."
When I arrived at the restaurant, I spotted Mom immediately. But there was someone sitting beside her, someone I wasn’t expecting. A man, mid-30s with a clean suit and confident demeanor. My heart sank as I got closer. Could it be? Was this the guy she had been trying to set me up with? The one I had refused to meet?
I walked over to the table, plastering on a neutral smile, trying to keep my cool.
"Y/N, sweetheart! Over here!" Mom greeted me, oblivious to the tension in the air. "Sorry I didn’t tell you ahead of time, but I figured you'd probably say no, like you’ve been doing with the blind dates lately."
I sighed inwardly. "This is Mr. Kim," she continued, gesturing to the man beside her. "I thought it’d be nice for you two to finally meet."
I forced myself to make eye contact and muttered a quick, polite "Hi" to both of them, feeling a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion.
After a few awkward moments of forced pleasantries, I knew I couldn’t stay any longer. "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," I said, standing up quickly, barely giving them a chance to respond.
Mom’s eyes followed me, but I didn’t care. I walked away, the frustration building inside me. How many times had I told her I wasn’t interested in this kind of setup? Yet here we were again.
Once in the bathroom, I leaned against the sink, taking a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if I was more angry or just worn out. All I knew was that I had to get out of here before this date became even more unbearable.
And then it clicked in my mind like a switch. I could call Jin. He couldn’t show up, obviously, but maybe he could still help me get out of this mess. I couldn’t stick around with Mom and Mr. Kim any longer. If I did, she’d be even more suspicious. So, I had to leave, but I couldn’t go back home. She’d definitely come over later and confront me.
I quickly dialed Jin’s number, my heart pounding.
“Jin, listen, I need help,” I said as soon as he picked up. “I’m stuck on another blind date with this guy Mom’s trying to set me up with. I can’t do this, so I’m leaving now. But I’m not going home, I’m not dealing with Mom showing up and grilling me about it. So... I’m coming to yours.”
There was a pause on the other end before Jin’s voice came through, clearly confused. “What? You can’t come here. What are you—?”
I cut him off, my frustration bubbling over. “I started this agreement for exactly this reason, so I could be done with terrible dates. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
Before he could say anything else, I hung up the phone and rushed out, heading straight for Jin’s place.
also, is it a ot7 x reader? or just namkook x reader?
just to let you know that it's literally the 1st fic that I've read that's in the 1st person point view in months, maybe years
Ahh thank you 🥺💜
I’m so glad you’re enjoying the 1st person pov!! Atm it’s Namkook x reader, but the rest of the guys will absolutely get their time to shine with interactions and relationship-building 💜 stay tuned xx
the next part of Tangled Strings Of Fate is not a want, it's a need atp.
Okay so I might be… a "little" late answering this 👀 BUT the good news is the new chapter is finally here 💜 and I’ll try not to keep you waiting so long for the next one 🥺
I had totally forgotten that Jungkook was a global pop star. Maybe it was because of the way we’d first met, without that weighing between us. To me, he was just Ian turned Kook. As wholesome as that sounds, I should’ve known better than to start a singalong with him.
The drive to Bam’s care centre was about an hour, according to the GPS, and after some initial light conversation, the car settled into a comfortable silence with faint background music. I didn’t mind it; quiet was easy with Kook. But as I kept glancing at the music controls, he caught on and smirked.
“Wanna play something?” he asked, giving me a side-eye. “I wasn’t sure what kind of music you’re into, so I just left it on the radio.”
“Well…” I grinned. “Alright, but…you’re up for a singalong, right?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he replied, already grinning.
I pulled up a playlist and hit shuffle, landing on an Ariana Grande song. We both belted out the chorus, and I had to laugh as he sang effortlessly, sounding almost too good for a car singalong.
“Okay, so here’s the thing,” I said with a laugh. “I feel like I’m at a disadvantage trying to keep up with an idol over here.”
He chuckled. “So, what’s fair then?”
“Let’s make it a guessing game,” I proposed, thinking quickly. “We’ll just shuffle the music using the car’s controller and whoever guesses the song first wins. Loser buys dinner?”
“Oh, you’re going down,” he said, his eyes gleaming with playful challenge. “Get ready for my samgyeopsal.”
I hit shuffle, and the first few notes of Mr. Brightside by The Killers filled the car. I shouted out the title before he could even open his mouth.
“Point to me!” I crowed, grinning as he shook his head with a laugh.
“Alright, alright, beginner’s luck,” he said, as I hit shuffle again.
Since U Been Gone by Kelly Clarkson came on next, and we both called it at the same time, laughing as we went neck-and-neck. But then Umbrella by Rihanna came on, and I called it first again, giving him a smug look.
“Are you even trying, Kook? Isn’t music, like…your job?” I teased, as he narrowed his eyes, pretending to be offended.
“Oh, it’s so on now,” he said, rolling his shoulders as if getting serious.
I hit shuffle again, and when Toxic by Britney Spears came on, he beat me by half a second. He looked at me, smug as ever.
“Finally, a win for the professional,” I teased, making him laugh.
We went back and forth, each trying to beat the other on every track, and whenever he missed one, I gasped dramatically, looking scandalised.
“Jungkook! How could you miss Gangnam Style? What would your fans say?”
“Okay, okay, no need to rub it in,” he chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll admit, you’re better at this than I expected.”
By the time we neared Bam’s care centre, we’d completely lost track of the score, too wrapped up in trying to stump each other. Finally, as we parked, he shook his head with a sigh.
“You know, I feel this one was a close call, but I’ll be a gentleman and give it to you. Next time, we should use our personal playlists. That’ll really test each other.”
“No way! I think I won fair and square, Mister Sore Loser,” I said with a playful grin. “But deal, I’ll still beat you next time though.”
As we were about to get out of the car, my eyes caught sight of a small crowd gathered in front of the care centre. A few young girls were lingering, their phones raised, and I felt the tension in Jungkook’s shoulders as he noticed them too.
“Ahh shi…,” he muttered, glancing toward the group. “Sorry about this, Hana, but I think I might have to park somewhere else and bring Bam to the car alone. They’re probably sasaengs, obsessed people who must have caught wind that I’d be here today to pick up Bam. Being seen by them would just complicate things and…”
“Hey, no need to explain. I’m happy to just wait in the car,” I reassured him.
He nodded, quickly driving away. Kook parked the car a few minutes later on an empty street away from the centre.
“Sorry about this again,” he said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and reached into the backseat for his bucket hat. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”
I nodded, and he left the car, the door closing behind him.
Not long after, I saw Jungkook approach the car from afar, Bam trotting happily beside him on a short leash. When he caught me looking, he signalled for me to get out, and I quickly opened the door.
Bam barked loudly as I approached, his tail wagging furiously. When he recognized me, his bark ended in a questioning tone, and he dashed toward me, nearly knocking me over with excitement. Jungkook let the leash extend, and I steadied myself to avoid being toppled again.
“Aww, I missed you too, Bam! Did you have fun at the centre?” I asked, bending down to pet him. He jumped around me enthusiastically, and I laughed, ruffling his fur.
“Come on, let’s get in the car, Bam.” said Kook, pulling Bam along.
Once we were settled inside, Kook turned to me. “So about dinner, I owe you one for losing that game,” he said, a playful smirk on his face. “How about I drop the car at my place, and we take Bam for his evening walk before dropping him home? I know a great spot nearby.”
“Sounds perfect!” I replied, my stomach rumbling in anticipation.
With that, we drove to Jungkook’s apartment, and he parked the car. We let Bam out and began walking through the quiet neighbourhood, the sun already set behind us.
As we strolled, I noticed Jungkook’s expression shift. He kept glancing over his shoulder, his demeanour growing tense.
“Is everything okay?” I asked, trying to catch his gaze.
“Yeah, just… keep walking,” he said, his voice low. “I think someone’s following us.”
A shiver ran down my spine. I glanced back and caught a glimpse of a figure trailing behind us, phone in hand, snapping photos. My heart raced as I turned to Jungkook, whose jaw was clenched in frustration.
“Let’s try to lose her,” he said, picking up the pace.
Just then, Jungkook’s phone buzzed loudly in his pocket, interrupting the moment. He pulled it out and checked the screen, his expression darkening.
“It’s my manager,” he said, answering the call quickly. “Hey! What’s going on?”
As he listened, his eyes darted back toward the sasaeng, who had picked up speed, clearly determined to get closer.
“Where am I? I’m—” He paused, his voice tense. “Yeah, I know, I’m with Bam. I—”
He hung up abruptly. “We need to go. My manager just told me there are photos of me, Bam, and… a “mysterious girl” online. It’s not safe for us to be out here anymore.”
Before I could respond, he grabbed my wrist and began to run, pulling me along with him. “Kook, wait!” I hissed, trying to keep up as we dashed back toward his apartment.
He glanced back at the sasaeng, and I could see the anger in his eyes. “Just stick close to me,” he said, his grip on my hand firm. “We’ll lose her.”
We turned down a side street, and Jungkook quickly led me through a maze of alleys and backroads. Just as we rounded a corner, Jungkook suddenly tugged me into a narrow alleyway, pressing me against the cool brick wall. His hands were braced on either side of my shoulders, shielding me from view. The sasaeng’s footsteps grew louder, and Jungkook leaned closer, his face only inches from mine, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.
“Stay still,” he whispered, his voice a soft murmur that sent a shiver down my spine.
The space between us was impossibly close, his body pressing against mine with an unexpected firmness that left me breathless. My senses heightened, tracing over every detail of his face; the glint of his lip piercing, catching faint light as it hovered inches from my lips, and a small freckle just below his bottom lip that I’d somehow never noticed before. His dark eyes roamed over me, intense and searching, and I felt warmth radiate from him, enveloping me, pulling me into the quiet, intimate space between us.
We waited, frozen, as the footsteps passed by the alley’s entrance. Jungkook’s gaze held mine, his steady breath brushing my cheek, a silent assurance that he wouldn’t let anything happen to us. The tension in the air was thick, charged, and I found myself holding my breath, acutely aware of how close we were.
Just as I felt my heart might burst from the suspense, I felt a gentle nudge between us. Startled, I glanced down to see Bam slipping between us, looking up with curious, alert eyes. Jungkook let out a low chuckle, breaking the moment. He finally relaxed, stepping back slightly but keeping a protective arm on the wall still shielding me from view over my shoulder. “Guess we’re in the clear now” he said softly, ruffling Bam’s ears.
“I’m actually surprised he was so quiet through all this.” I blinked, looking down at Bam with newfound admiration. “Is he trained for this kind of situation?”
“Yep,” Jungkook nodded, a hint of pride in his smile. “He’s well-behaved in tense situations. He can tell when he needs to be quiet.”
Bam looked up at us as if he fully understood, wagging his tail satisfied. I reached down, giving him a grateful scratch. “Good boy, Bam,” I murmured, feeling both a rush of relief and warmth in the company of them both.
Kook’s gaze lingered a moment longer, and then he stepped back, allowing a little more space between us, though the tension still hummed in the air.
“Come on,” he said, his voice softer now. “I think we lost them, but let’s get back quickly just in case.”
Not long after, I could see the entrance to his building coming into view. With one final burst of speed, we reached the door. Jungkook fumbled to type the code in the padlock: “Come on, come on!” he muttered, glancing back as he finally got the door open.
We slipped inside and Jungkook shut the door quickly and leaned against it semi breathless.
“We should be safe here for now,” he said, the tension beginning to ease from his shoulders.
“That was way too close!” I said, trying to catch my breath.
“Yeah, I didn’t think it would get like this,” Jungkook admitted, running a hand through his hair, still catching his breath. “We should head into my apartment, just in case anyone else manages to get inside the building.” He nodded toward the elevator, and we stepped in together, the doors closing with a quiet hum as we rode up to his floor.
***
Yesterday, I learned that the guy with the cute dog I'd bumped into at the beginning of this trip was a global celebrity. Now, here I was, in his apartment, hiding from sasaengs. The whole situation was beginning to feel even more surreal.
Jungkook shut the door and, with a frustrated sigh, pulled out his phone to call his manager and building security. "I’m so sorry for dragging you into this," he said, glancing up at me while he waited for someone to pick up. "I’ll sort it out, I promise.”
I nodded and took a seat on the sofa he motioned towards. Jungkook paced near the door, waiting for his manager to pick up. He shot me an apologetic look while Bam settled at my feet, resting his head on my lap as if sensing my unease. I stroked his ears absently, grateful for his comforting presence.
While Kook was on the phone I decided to message Selina and check her whereabouts. If I had blown my identity tonight then what if they caught onto Selina and went after her? I was hoping she’d message me that she was still out with friends but she said she was walking back to the apartment on her own already.
After a tense few minutes on the phone, Jungkook hung up and returned to me with a sigh. “My manager’s sending over company security to check the neighbourhood and handle anyone they find nearby,” he said. “They’re also trying to do some damage control on the posts that are circulating online before things spiral. But… for now, we can’t risk going anywhere.”
I nodded, glancing at my phone as I read Selina’s message. “I just checked in on my sister, and she’s heading back to our apartment now,” I muttered, feeling a familiar thrum of worry. “What if these people go after her, thinking she’s somehow involved if they find out who I am?”
Jungkook frowned, his brow furrowing in concern. “Hey, listen to me,” he said, stepping closer and looking directly into my eyes. “No one is going to find out who you are, I promise. I’ll make sure of it. You’re not in this alone. I’ll reach out to the guys right away to check on Selina and meet up with her so she’s not alone tonight.”
He quickly typed a message in their group chat, his fingers moving swiftly as he explained the situation. I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me, mixed with the anxiety still bubbling in my chest.
“I really appreciate it, Kook,” I said, forcing a small smile.
Within moments, his phone buzzed with replies. Taehyung and Jimin had both volunteered, promising to reach Selina shortly and check in once they arrived.
“They’ll FaceTime us when they’re there,” Jungkook assured me, squeezing my shoulder gently. “Selina’s in good hands.”
“Thank you,” I said, relief mingling with the lingering tension in my chest.
Jungkook gave me a faint smile and pulled out his phone to order food. “And I’ll get something for us too… actually, scratch that,” he said, halting the app mid-scroll. “Better if I cook instead. Bringing any attention to my door right now isn’t worth the risk.”
I laughed softly, the absurdity of the situation settling in. “Yesterday I didn’t even know you were a celebrity. Now you’re protecting my sister and cooking dinner for me while we hide away from sasaengs. Life comes at you fast, huh?”
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he headed to the kitchen. “Life does get wild sometimes. But let’s just make the best of it.”
Just then, my phone buzzed with a message from Namjoon.
Joon: “Hey, Hana, just heard what’s going on. Are you okay? I wish I could be there to help, but this is… tricky.”
His thoughtfulness brought a smile to my face. I replied quickly, reassuring him that we were safe, and turned back to see Jungkook pulling out ingredients with a new determination.
“Dinner will be ready soon,” he said with a warm smile, clearly intent on turning the night around.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Are you sure you don’t need my help? I can chop vegetables or something.”
He shook his head, a playful grin on his lips. “Nah, I’ve got this. Just enjoy the show.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “The show? Is this going to be a cooking performance?”
“Absolutely,” he replied, winking as he moved to the fridge. He took out some ingredients, and I watched as he expertly began to chop vegetables. Bam settled nearby, watching him with those big, expectant eyes.
“Alright, Chef Jungkook,” I teased, leaning against the counter. “What are you making?”
“Just a little stir-fry with noodles. Nothing fancy,” he said, his focus on the task. “If you want, you can play some background music; we don’t have to be quiet.” He nodded toward his phone, a playful glint in his eyes.
I grabbed his phone from the counter and opened Spotify. As I scrolled through the playlists, I shot him a teasing glance. “Just don’t get too distracted by the music, okay? We don’t want you burning the house down.”
He chuckled, flashing me a confident grin. “Please,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m a professional at everything.”
“Except guessing songs?” I shot back, smirking.
“Touché,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll redeem myself one day, just you wait.”
I found a playlist and hit play, letting the upbeat tunes fill the kitchen. The atmosphere lightened as we bantered back and forth. I was struck by how comfortable it felt to be here, despite the chaos outside.
As Jungkook continued to cook, he glanced over at me. “So, what do you think? Do you have a bit more faith in my cooking abilities now?"
I leaned forward, resting my chin on my hands. “Honestly? You look like a guy who could burn water.”
“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m a culinary genius,” he laughed, throwing a piece of vegetable at me playfully.
“Yeah, right! Your ‘culinary genius’ better prove itself then” I retorted.
Just then, his phone buzzed with a FaceTime call. Jungkook quickly wiped his hands on a towel and answered it, revealing Taehyung’s bright smile on the screen.
“Hey, Kook! How’s it going?” Taehyung greeted, glancing over his shoulder to reveal Jimin standing beside him. “We just wanted to check in and see how you and Hana are doing. Oh, and guess who’s safe with us!”
“Selina!” I exclaimed, leaning closer to the screen. “Are you okay? I was worried about you!”
“Yeah, I’m fine! No one is weird around or anything like that, except these two I guess, waiting for me down the street when I was walking back! But we’ll just keep hanging out until you two can get back to normal. How are you feeling?”
As I caught up with Selina, Jungkook focused on his stir-fry, stirring and seasoning. It felt nice to see my sister was in good hands, but before long, Taehyung chimed in, “Alright, we should probably grab something to eat ourselves. Just wanted to check on you guys. Stay safe, okay?”
“Thanks, guys! You too!” Jungkook said, waving as we ended the call.
I turned to see that Jungkook had set the plates on the counter, and my stomach rumbled at the delicious aroma wafting through the air. “Alright, time for the verdict,” he said, a playful challenge in his voice.
I took a bite and my eyes widened. “Wow, Kook! This is amazing! How are you so good at cooking?”
He smirked, leaning against the counter with an air of pride. “Told you I was good. But the recipe is also very straightforward.”
“Solid five stars in my books!” I said, taking another bite and savouring the flavours.
Before he started on his dinner, he casually opened the fridge, revealing a whole section dedicated to alcohol. “Want a beer to go with the food?” he asked.
I raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. “Do you have a whole fridge just for drinks?”
“Gotta keep my options open,” he said with a wink, grabbing a couple of bottles and handing one to me.
After we finished eating, Jungkook leaned back against the counter, looking thoughtful. “So, now what? We could just wait around for updates or…”
“Or we could watch something instead?” I suggested.
“Good idea!” he said, nodding enthusiastically as he grabbed the empty plates. Just as he was about to head to the sink, I jumped in.
“Hey, how about I do the dishes instead?” I offered, trying to help out.
He shook his head, an amused smile playing on his lips. “No way, I can’t let my guest do any work.”
“Are you sure?” I pressed, wanting to contribute somehow.
“Absolutely. Actually, would you like to change into something more comfortable in the meantime? I have some clothes you can borrow,” he said, motioning toward a door that I assumed led to his bedroom. “I’ll take care of the dishes, it’ll be faster that way.”
“Okay,” I replied and he disappeared into the bedroom while I took a moment to gather my thoughts and surroundings. What a whirlwind of a night it had been!
Jungkook emerged a moment later, holding out a black hoodie and some sweats. “Here you go, the bathroom is just down that hall on the left” he said with a warm smile, handing them to me.
“Thanks!” I replied, and headed to the bathroom to quickly change into the oversized hoodie and sweats. Jungkook’s scent lingered on the fabric, making me smile as I admired how cosy I looked in his clothes.
When I stepped out, I found Jungkook finishing up the dishes, water glistening on his hands as he rinsed the last plate. “There you are,” he said, glancing up and smiling. “You look great in that.”
“Thanks! It’s super comfortable,” I replied, feeling a little bashful under his gaze.
“Good.” he said, drying his hands on a towel before clearing his throat. ““Your phone kept buzzing while you were changing. I didn’t mean to pry, I just thought it might be your sister, so I could answer for you. But… It was someone named Darian. So I thought better not just in case.” His voice was low as he glanced away, pretending to busy himself with Bam.
“Oh…” I glanced down at my phone, noticing a line of messages and a couple of missed calls from Darian. He’d obviously grown worried since Selina had only briefly mentioned we wouldn’t be together tonight and that we both had ‘other company’ in addition to the chase in the street. I quickly typed out a reply, promising to explain everything when I called later.
When I looked up, Jungkook was watching me, his eyebrows slightly raised, a teasing glint in his eye. “So, Darian, huh?” he asked, voice casual but eyes not-so-subtly curious.
I laughed, rolling my eyes. “Relax, Mr. Defensive. Darian’s my little brother. See, don’t we look alike?” I tilted my phone to show him my lock screen, a picture of Darian. “He was supposed to come with us to Seoul but couldn’t get time off.”
He let out a small breath, nodding. “Ah, okay… got it. I didn’t want to assume, but you know, just in case.” He shrugged, but I caught the faint blush creeping up his neck.
I chuckled but quickly grew more thoughtful. “Speaking of just in case… I mean, I’m grateful you’re letting me stay until things calm down, but…” I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. “If there is someone, you know, special in your life… should I be worried about being here? I don’t want to make things awkward for you.”
Jungkook’s face softened, and he shook his head with a reassuring smile. “No, you don’t need to worry. There’s no one,” he said quietly. “Honestly, idol life… It's not exactly easy for dating or getting to know others in general. Between the schedule, fans, and everything else, it’s hard to find someone who’s genuine. I mean, the fans deserve to be happy too for all the support they give me, and I wouldn’t want to bring in any drama that could affect the group.”
I nodded, a pang of sympathy hitting me. “That must be hard… never knowing if someone likes you for you.”
“Yeah, it can be,” he admitted. “Most people already have this idea of me in their heads. And I’d rather be around people who… don’t. Thinking about it, you’re probably the first non-celebrity person I’ve gotten this close to in a while.”
“I’ll have to thank Bam, ‘Ian’ and my tired brain for not putting two and two together sooner,” I replied, and our eyes lingered for a moment before he laughed and picked up the remote, moving toward the brown couch in the living room.
“What do you feel like watching?” he asked, scrolling through Netflix.
“Anything but a horror movie,” I said, a small laugh escaping me. “After tonight’s events, I don’t think my nerves could take it.”
“I got you,” he said with a reassuring smile. “How about a comedy? We could use some laughs.”
“Perfect!” I agreed, settling in. As we looked through some options, he lit a few candles, dimming the room to a warm glow before returning with two highball glasses filled with ice. I took one, grateful for the calming atmosphere he was setting.
We finally landed on 20th Century Girl, and once the movie started, we both got comfortable on the couch, Jungkook on my right. Just as I relaxed, Bam trotted over, leaped up, and plopped himself on my left, resting his head on my lap.
Jungkook glanced over, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, giving Bam a mock glare. “Traitor.”
I grinned, scratching Bam’s ears as he closed his eyes in contentment. “I think he just knows who gives the best head rubs.”
“Sure he does,” Jungkook scoffed, reaching over to ruffle Bam’s fur. “But he’s still supposed to be loyal to me.”
I laughed, looking between the two of them. “Alright, Bam,” I coaxed, giving him a gentle nudge and patting the space between me and Jungkook. “How about you sit in between us so your dad doesn’t feel betrayed?”
Bam obediently shifted, nestling into the space between us, and I scooted over to give him room, though it created more of a distance between Jungkook and I. I noticed Jungkook’s slight frown and suppressed a smile, pretending not to notice.
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, folding his arms with an exaggerated sigh. “Now he gets the best seat in the house, huh? Fine, I see how it is.”
I chuckled, giving him an innocent shrug. “What can I say? Bam deserves only the best treatment. Besides, don’t you want him to be comfy?”
He rolled his eyes playfully, muttering, “Right, right” before taking a big sip of his drink.
For the first half, we laughed at the funny scenes, nudging each other at the awkward teenage moments and sharing an unspoken understanding of how relatable it all was.
But as the story grew more emotional, I could feel the sadness creeping up, and by the time the credits began to roll, I was fighting back tears. Wiping at my face as discreetly as possible, I glanced over and caught Jungkook doing the same.
“Kook,” I whispered, my voice catching slightly. “Are you… crying?”
He glanced over, trying to hide his wet eyes behind his sleeve. “No,” he replied quickly, brushing away a stray tear with a sniffle. “I don’t cry. It’s… it’s just the music, okay?”
I burst out laughing, still sniffling myself. “Oh, sure. Look at you, all emotional over a rom-com. You’re… actually really cute like this.”
He looked at me with an almost horrified expression, still dabbing his eyes. “Cute? Really? I’m a man, you know. Cute isn’t exactly the look I’m going for.”
“Well, too bad, because you’re adorable right now,” I said with a grin, earning a playful groan from him.
“Alright, alright, I’ll admit, maybe it got to me a little,” he mumbled, glancing down sheepishly. “But next time, we’re watching something action-packed. No more crying over movies.”
I laughed, wiping my own eyes. "Fine by me. Just don’t think I’ll ever let you live this down, Mr. Not-Cute."
"Huh... fine!" he said, getting up and taking our empty glasses after getting my non-verbal approval for a refill. I glanced down at my lap, noticing Bam was already fast asleep, his head resting comfortably against me.
"Aww, Bam's already asleep. I don't think I can move for the rest of the night," I said softly, gently caressing Bam’s fur, careful not to wake him up. He looked so peaceful, head over my lap, his body rising and falling with each slow, steady breath.
Jungkook returned from the kitchen and spotted his puppy snoozing away on my lap, a small smile tugging at his lips. He stepped closer, a light sigh escaping him. "Unfortunately, I can’t let him sleep like that or his training will be spoiled."
I shot him a confused look as he reached down and ruffled Bam’s fur a little more forcefully, waking him up. “Bam house!” he said. Bam let out a small groan but, after a second of processing, slowly got up, stretched, and padded toward his bed at the corner of the room.
"Good boy," Jungkook said, giving Bam a gentle pat on the head as he lay down on his bed. He waited for Bam to settle before turning back to me, that faint smile still lingering on his face. "Alright, now that he's taken care of, let' s get you another drink."
He walked back into the kitchen and returned with two fresh highballs in hand. As he set them down on the coffee table, he flicked on a switch that illuminated a galaxy lamp, casting a soft, colourful glow around the room. The effect was mesmerising, filling the space with vibrant blues, purples, and pinks.
"Wow, that's pretty!" I exclaimed, my eyes wide as I took in the new ambient lighting. The whole living room felt like we were floating in space, the stars twinkling gently around us.
Jungkook chuckled. "Yeah, I like this lamp more than normal lights, it's calming."
I smiled and reached for my drink, taking a sip. "It definitely is."
He sank back onto the couch, and the next hour flew by in a flurry of laughter as we scrolled through memes and shared jokes to brighten up the mood. Eventually, we stumbled on a “Would You Rather” game, taking turns asking each other the most absurd questions and learning a little more about each other with each answer.
“Alright,” Jungkook said, grinning mischievously. “Would you rather have dinner with your favourite celebrity but not be allowed to speak to them, or get a free concert ticket but have to sit in the very back row?”
I laughed, considering it. “Back-row concert ticket, no question! I can still yell my feelings from a distance, right?”
He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Solid choice. Okay, your turn!”
I leaned back, hugging a cushion. “Would you rather… eat the same food every day for the rest of your life, or sing the same song at every concert forever?”
He groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re cruel. Uh… same food. I could live on tteokbokki if I had to. But the same song? No way.”
“Come on, imagine the fans,ten years later, still screaming for Dynamite.”
He laughed, head tipping back. “They’d kill me before year five.”
We dissolved into giggles, the kind that came easier now, with the drinks fuzzing the edges of the night. He set his glass down and stretched out, feet resting on the coffee table.
After a pause, I asked, “Do you ever… get tired of it? All of it, the cameras, the people following, everyone knowing who you are?”
His smile faltered, not disappearing but softening into something smaller. He stared into the galaxy lamp’s scattered stars. “Yeah. Sometimes. I love music, don’t get me wrong. But it’s like… no matter where I go, there’s always someone watching. And if they’re not watching, they’re waiting.”
I toyed with my sleeve. “That sounds exhausting.”
“It can be.” He exhaled slowly. “Sometimes I just wish I could walk into a convenience store or down the street without thinking, Who’s gonna take a photo? Who’s gonna post it? I miss being invisible.”
My chest ached at that. “But you still keep doing it.”
“Because it’s worth it,” he said simply. His voice had that grounded certainty again. “The stage… the music… Army. My brothers. It’s enough to keep me going.”
I nodded, letting the weight of his honesty sink in. “Still… you deserve to just be Jungkook. Not ‘the idol’. Just you.”
He glanced over at me, eyes catching the faint glow of the lamp. For a second, I thought he might actually say something raw. But instead, his mouth curved into a crooked smile.
“And here I thought you only saw me as ‘Bam’s new owner.’”
I laughed softly, swirling what was left in my glass. “Don’t worry, Kook. You’ve graduated from that title… barely.”
His lips tugged into a smile, but it didn’t fade right away. Instead, he kept watching me, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
“What?” I asked, half-laughing, suddenly self-conscious.
He shook his head lightly, though his gaze stayed steady. “Nothing. Just… I like the way you say that.”
“Say what?”
“Kook.” His voice was softer now, almost absentminded. He held my eyes a moment longer than necessary, and in that pause, I caught it—the way his glance flicked down, then back up, as if he’d thought about something and immediately pulled it back.
My breath caught, but before I could say anything, he cleared his throat and pushed himself up from the couch. “Water break,” he said quickly, tone light again, almost too casual.
I blinked at him, trying to hide the warmth creeping up my neck. “Responsible Kook,” I called after him, hoping to mask the little flip in my stomach with teasing.
“Somebody has to be,” he shot back from the kitchen, clinking glasses as if to underline the change of subject.
He set a glass of water in front of me a moment later before heading back to refill our drinks.
But I never reached for mine. Somewhere between the warmth of the hoodie and the soft glow of the lamp while waiting, my eyelids grew heavy. My head tilted back against the couch, the galaxy lamp’s colors blurring into one another until I was gone.
~~ Jungkook’s POV ~~
When I came back from the kitchen, the water glass I’d left for her sat untouched. Hana had slipped under already, her body curled into the corner of the couch, one hand tucked beneath her cheek. The hoodie swallowed her, sleeves trailing, her hair falling across her face. The galaxy lamp threw shifting stars across her skin, and for a second, I forgot to breathe.
I set the glasses down quietly and pulled a blanket from the back of the couch. Kneeling, I shook it out and draped it over her carefully. She stirred once, a faint sigh leaving her lips, then settled again. I hovered a second longer than I should have, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.
My phone buzzed.
Manager: Area’s clear now. You can bring her home for tonight, but tomorrow morning, come to the company first thing. Management wants to talk about damage control.
I stared at the screen. Bring her home. That would be cleaner, safer. I could wake her, drive her back, end tonight before it complicated anything further. That’s what I should do.
But my feet didn’t move.
She looked too peaceful. The kind of peace I almost never get. And if I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to give it up yet. Not the quiet, not her laughter still echoing in my head, not the way she said Kook like it belonged only to me.
I liked the message and then texted the guys: ”Take care of Selina for the rest of tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow at the company.” Taehyung responded promising not to let her out of sight and Jimin sent a string of thumbs-ups. That box was checked, but I was still left here.
I looked at the couch, at her hand peeking from under the blanket, then back toward my bedroom door. The rational choice was obvious: go to bed, shut the door, pretend I wasn’t listening to her breathing. She’d never know.
But my legs didn’t move.
Because what if she woke up in the middle of the night and I wasn’t here? If she panicked, waking up alone in a stranger’s apartment after the chaos we’d just gone through? I couldn’t let that happen. That was my excuse, at least the one I told myself.
The truth? The truth was uglier. Selfish. I just wanted to stay. To be near her, even like this.
So I dragged the spare mattress out of the closet, setting it on the floor beside the couch. Not too close, but not far either. Just… close enough that if she stirred, she’d see me there.
I lowered myself onto the mattress, staring up at the galaxy lamp as it spun soft constellations across the ceiling. My body was still, but my mind wouldn’t quit replaying the night. The way she’d teased me in the kitchen, the heat of her hand gripping mine when we ran, the sound of her voice when she said I deserved to just be Jungkook, called me Kook so effortlessly. And then that moment in the alleyway… the press of her against the wall, the air so tight between us I could feel her breath on my skin. For a moment I’d almost forgotten we were hiding. For a moment, it was just her eyes locked on mine.
My chest ached with something I couldn’t name. Yearning, maybe. Fear. Both. I shouldn’t want this or her or any of it. Not with everything that came attached to me. And yet, lying here, listening to her breathing steady and soft just above me, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
I ran a hand over my face and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “You’re selfish, Jeon Jungkook,” I muttered under my breath. But I didn’t move.
I pulled my blanket over me and rolled to my side, facing the couch. From here, I could see the outline of her shoulder beneath the blanket, the gentle fall of her hair. I let my eyes linger one last time, memorizing it, before the pull of exhaustion finally dragged me under.
At least for tonight, I wasn’t alone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ <- Previous | Series Masterlist | Next ->
Summary: Suga of BTS is on the edge, racing against the clock to finish his solo album. With just three songs left to complete and a looming deadline, he's struggling to find inspiration. In a last-minute move, his company pairs him with the highly secretive Producer K, a renowned but elusive figure in the music industry. Everyone assumes Producer K is a male, but when Suga meets the mysterious producer, he's shocked to discover that K is actually a talented and confident woman. As they collaborate, the line between professional and personal begins to blur. Their chemistry is undeniable, but with a ticking clock and the pressure to deliver, can they finish the album on time? Or will their growing connection derail everything they've worked for? Secrets, passion, and music. Can Suga keep his focus, or will Producer K. change everything?
A/N: I miss these two already!! 🥺 This story was highly influenced by me having Yoongi's SDL and Reed Wonder's The machine on repeat. Hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I did writing it! Let me know your thoughts 💕.
The soft hum of equipment filled the studio, punctuated by the click-clack of Yoongi's keyboard. His desk was a mess of coffee cups, scribbled notes, and sheet music—proof of hours spent chasing inspiration that eluded him.
"Hyung," a staff member, Jihoon, said cautiously, standing near the doorway. "I think we need to talk about your album. Specifically, the last tracks you’re stuck on."
Yoongi swivelled his chair, eyebrows knitting together. "I'm not stuck," he said sharply. "I just need time."
"You have three months before the release date," Jihoon reminded him. "And right now, three of the songs don’t have melodies. You’ve been staring at the lyrics for weeks."
Yoongi sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "I’m working on it."
Jihoon hesitated, holding back a smirk. "The team suggested bringing in another producer."
Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. "I don’t need help. This is my album. I’ve handled everything myself before, haven’t I?"
"This time, we’re short on time," Jihoon countered. "And we’re talking about Prod. K. He’s incredible! The guy with the minimalist beats and genre-blending compositions. Even you’ve praised his work."
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I praised the music, not the person. And I don’t work with strangers, especially ones I’ve never even met."
"It’s non-negotiable, hyung." Jihoon sighed. "The higher-ups already agreed. We’re bringing him in to collaborate."
"Bringing him in?" Yoongi repeated, his tone laced with sarcasm. "I’ve never even seen his face. For all I know, he could be some arrogant newbie."
Jihoon smirked, his gaze flickering with amusement Yoongi didn’t appreciate. "Lets not judge, just wait until you meet him."
Yoongi grumbled, turning back to his monitor. "Fine. But don’t expect me to make this easy for him. And when he leaves because I’m too ‘difficult,’ you can tell the higher-ups they were wrong."
~~ Y/N POV ~~
"Are you out of your mind?!" I hissed, pacing the small office where my team had dropped the bombshell of the century. "To collaborate with Suga of BTS in person? Sure, it’s an honor, but that’s a no from me. If my identity gets leaked, the fact that I’m a woman, working with him in some tiny studio, any sasaeng will have me on their hit list before I even step out the door."
My manager, Minji, leaned back in her chair, arms crossed but eyes pleading. "Y/N, listen. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. His songs are streamed millions of times. You can’t just brush this off."
"I’m not brushing it off," I shot back. "I respect his work, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not willing to risk it. There are plenty of artists who would kill to have me on their projects just by sending them my demo, and they’re happy to communicate with me online without ever knowing who I am. Why him? Why now? Why like this?"
Minji sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It’s not just about you. The label needs this. We’re in a tight spot financially, and this contract is massive. Do you know how much they’re offering?"
I didn’t want to hear the number. Money had never been my motivator, but the way Minji’s face softened told me it was enough to make a difference, not just for me but for my entire team. I groaned, dropping into a chair and crossing my arms. "Why can’t anyone hear my opinion? I don’t want to do this. I’m not just some faceless entity, you know."
"You’re not," Minji said gently. "But you also know how much this could elevate your career. Three songs, Y/N. That’s all they’re asking for. Just three."
Her words echoed in my head, the weight of them pulling me in two directions. Logic screamed to take the job, but fear—fear of exposure, of judgment—held me back.
"Fine," I said finally, hating how small my voice sounded. "I’ll think about it."
***
That night, I found myself on an unintentional deep dive into Min Yoongi’s a.k.a SUGA a.k.a AGUST D world. It started innocently enough: a quick search to refresh my memory of his discography. But then one song led to another, and another, until I was buried in hours of music he’d produced, lyrics he’d written, and performances that made me forget why I was so hesitant in the first place. Scrolling through fan edits and live clips, I couldn’t help but be charmed. There was a reason people adored him, not just for his talent, but for the quiet charisma that seeped through the screen. His easy confidence, the way he handled himself on stage and in interviews, was magnetic.
"Focus," I muttered to myself, shaking off the distraction. But the deeper I went into his work, the harder it was to ignore his genius.
His music was haunting, intricate, and raw. The kind of art that pulled you into someone’s soul, no matter how much they tried to hide. I couldn’t help but wonder how someone with this much expertise got stuck?
By the time dawn broke, I called Minji. "Minji," I said the moment she answered, her voice still groggy. "I’ll do it."
"Wait, what? You’re serious?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"Yes, but on one condition."
"Name it."
"No one finds out who I am. If my identity leaks, I’m out."
Minji exhaled sharply. "We’ll make sure of it. I’ll talk to the higher-ups and confirm everything. Thank you, Y/N. This is the right decision."
I wasn’t sure if it was the right decision, but it was the one I’d made.
The next couple of days blurred into a whirlwind of paperwork. Contracts, NDAs, and endless signatures filled my time, the reality of the collaboration sinking in more and more with each passing document. Ironically, a small part of me hoped that Min Yoongi would refuse to sign the NDA. Maybe he’d see the clause about not sharing my identity, find it too ridiculous, and decide the collaboration wasn’t worth it.
But no.
He signed it.
When Minji told me, I stared at her like she’d grown a second head. "He signed it?"
"Yeah," she said, looking just as surprised. "No arguments, no complaints. Honestly, I thought he’d push back, but he didn’t."
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a long breath. "This guy… He’s full of surprises."
"Don’t get your hopes up," Minji warned. "Just because he signed doesn’t mean this will be smooth sailing."
"I know," I muttered. But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder. How different was the man behind the screen, the one whose music I’d admired for a while, from the person I was about to meet?
***
A few days later, everything was finalized. Minji and I were contacted by Jihoon, one of the team members who worked closely with Suga.
"He’s coming to pick us up personally?" I asked Minji, eyebrows raised as I adjusted my headphones around my neck.
"Apparently," Minji replied, glancing at her phone. "Guess he wants to make sure we actually show up."
When Jihoon arrived, he was younger than I expected, his energy warm and casual. He greeted Minji with a polite bow and a bright smile, then turned to me. For a moment, his expression faltered, his eyes darting behind me like he was waiting for someone else to appear.
"Uh… Hi," he said, looking between Minji and me. "You’re both here for Suga, right?"
"Yes," Minji answered smoothly. "This is K." She gestured toward me.
Jihoon blinked, confusion written all over his face. "Wait… You’re Producer K?"
I gave him a tight-lipped smile. "That’s me."
"You’re kidding," he said, then immediately looked apologetic. "I mean, sorry, I just—uh—"
"You were expecting someone else?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Kind of, yeah," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "No offense, but I thought you’d be, you know…"
"A guy," I finished for him, crossing my arms.
He laughed awkwardly. "Well, yeah. I mean, your music has this… vibe. It’s not what I’d expect from—" He cut himself off again, realizing he wasn’t helping.
"From a woman?" I challenged, though there was no malice in my tone.
"Not what I meant!" Jihoon exclaimed, waving his hands. "It’s just…forget it. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you."
Minji chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "Don’t worry. She gets that a lot."
I didn’t hold it against him. The entire point of my stage name was to avoid this kind of reaction, but moments like these reminded me why I kept my identity under wraps. Jihoon composed himself quickly and gestured toward the sleek black van parked nearby. "Anyway, let’s get going. Suga’s waiting for us at HYBE."
***
The drive to HYBE was surprisingly pleasant. Jihoon was chatty, making an effort to ease the awkwardness of our initial interaction.
"So," he began, glancing at me through the rear-view mirror, "I’m curious. How long have you been producing?"
"About six years," I replied.
"Wow, and you’re already working with Suga," he said, genuinely impressed. "That’s not something just anyone gets to do."
"I’m aware," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "It’s a privilege."
He nodded. "Have you been a fan of his music for a while?"
I hesitated. "I respect his work. He’s incredibly talented."
Jihoon grinned knowingly. "You’re downplaying it, huh? That’s fine. Most people get nervous meeting him for the first time. Don’t worry, he’s actually a lot nicer than people think."
Minji let out a quiet laugh beside me. "I don’t think nervousness is the issue here."
Jihoon glanced between us, confused but wisely decided not to press further.
***
Pulling up to HYBE’s towering building was intimidating, to say the least. I’d seen pictures online, of course, but being there in person was a different experience.
"Here we are," Jihoon announced as he parked the van.
As we stepped out, I adjusted my hoodie, making sure it covered my face as much as possible. Even with the NDA in place, I couldn’t shake the paranoia of being recognized. Jihoon led us through the back entrance, avoiding the main lobby and elevators filled with staff and trainees. "We’re heading straight to the studio," he explained. "He’s already there."
The walk felt longer than it probably was, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. When we finally reached the studio, Jihoon paused at the door, turning to us.
"Ready?" he asked.
"As I’ll ever be," I replied, tightening my grip on my laptop case.
He opened the door, and there he was, Min Yoongi, sitting in front of a massive console, his back to us.
He turned at the sound of the door, his expression neutral as he stood to greet us. His gaze swept over Minji first, then landed on me. For a moment, he said nothing, his sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe. Then he frowned, looking at Jihoon.
"This is K?" he asked, his tone sceptical.
Jihoon winced. "Uh, yeah. This is K."
Yoongi’s frown deepened as he crossed his arms. "You’re joking, right?"
I stepped forward, meeting his gaze head-on. "Last time I checked, I’m not a joke."
His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "You’re not what I expected."
"Good," I said, setting my laptop on the table. "Let’s get started."
Yoongi smirked, leaning against the edge of the console, arms crossed. His sharp gaze never left me as he added, "I have to say, your previous work didn’t exactly… scream ‘feminine touch.’ If anything, I thought you’d walk in here with a beard and flannel shirt."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
Jihoon coughed awkwardly, stepping back as if distancing himself from Yoongi’s comment. Minji shot him a warning look, but I could see the corners of her mouth twitching like she was trying not to laugh.
Yoongi raised a hand, his smirk widening. "No offense. I’m just saying your music has this raw, almost aggressive energy. It’s impressive. I just didn’t picture..." He motioned vaguely toward me. "...this."
Minji quickly interjected, "Alright, we’ll leave you two to it. Jihoon and I have some things to take care of."
"Wait—" I started, but Minji grabbed Jihoon by the sleeve and dragged him toward the door.
"You’ll be fine," she called over her shoulder. "Just... play nice, both of you."
The door shut with a soft click, and I was left staring at Yoongi, who looked far too amused for my liking.
"Let me guess," I said, narrowing my eyes. "You think this whole thing is a waste of time, right? That I’m here because someone in your company thought you needed ‘help.’"
He shrugged, moving to his chair and spinning it lazily before sitting down. "Help isn’t the word I’d use. But yeah, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about this arrangement."
"Trust me," I said flatly, "neither was I."
That earned a low chuckle from him. "At least we’re on the same page."
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my irritation in check. I’d dealt with condescending colleagues before, but Yoongi’s nonchalant attitude was already grating on my nerves. How different was he from the Yoongi I’d seen in interviews or fan videos? This guy wasn’t the soft-spoken, thoughtful artist fans adored. He was sharp, blunt, and entirely too smug.
"Let’s just get to work," I said, pulling out my laptop and external drive. "You have lyrics, right? Show me what you’ve got."
Yoongi grabbed a notebook from the desk and slid it across the table. "Here. Three tracks I’m stuck on. The lyrics are solid, but I can’t find the right sound to match them."
I flipped through the pages, skimming the lines. His handwriting was neat but compact, and the lyrics were, as expected, incredible. Emotionally raw, introspective, and layered with meaning. They demanded a melody that could do them justice.
"What’s the vibe you’re going for?" I asked, keeping my tone professional.
Yoongi tapped his fingers on the desk, his expression thoughtful. "Something atmospheric. A mix of minimalistic and haunting, but with enough depth to make it feel powerful. Think piano-driven but layered with electronic textures. I want it to hit hard emotionally but not overwhelm the lyrics."
I nodded, already forming ideas in my head. "Okay, let’s try something."
Opening my laptop, I connected it to the studio’s system and pulled up my digital audio workstation. I started layering a simple chord progression on the piano, experimenting with minor chords to create the moody tone he wanted. Yoongi watched silently for a moment before leaning forward. "No, that’s too soft. It needs more tension."
I adjusted the progression, adding a dissonant note to the second chord. "Better?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Now bring in a low synth pad to fill it out."
I worked quickly, adding the synth and tweaking the sound to give it a subtle pulse. The room filled with the beginnings of a melody, and for a moment, the tension between us eased as we both focused on the music.
"Not bad," Yoongi muttered, almost to himself. "But it still feels... flat."
I bit back a retort, reminding myself that this was his music. "What do you suggest?"
He leaned back, closing his eyes as he listened. "The transition between the first and second chords needs more weight. Maybe a reversed sample or a swell to build anticipation."
I nodded, grabbing a sample from my library and reversing it. After a few adjustments, I played it back. The swell added a subtle but impactful build to the transition.
Yoongi opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "That’s better."
"Glad I could meet your standards," I said dryly.
He chuckled again, the sound low and almost teasing. "Relax. I’m not here to make this harder than it has to be."
"Could’ve fooled me," I muttered under my breath, earning another amused glance from him.
Despite his initial scepticism, Yoongi was a perfectionist, and that part of him was something I could respect. He pushed for the smallest details, catching nuances that most producers might overlook. But he also didn’t hold back his opinions, which made working with him both frustrating and oddly invigorating.
As the hours passed, we fell into a rhythm. He’d point out what wasn’t working, I’d offer a solution, and we’d tweak it until we found something we both liked. By the time we wrapped up for the day, we’d made significant progress on the first track. The rough demo already had a haunting, melancholic energy that complemented his lyrics perfectly. Yoongi leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "Not bad for our first day."
"Let’s hope tomorrow’s just as productive," I said, saving the project file.
He smirked, standing up and grabbing his notebook. "We’ll see. You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be."
"Gee, thanks," I said, rolling my eyes. "You’re a real charmer."
"Only when I want to be," he shot back, heading for the door.
As he left, I let out a long breath, leaning back in my chair. Working with him was exhausting, but I couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling under my frustration. For all his arrogance, Yoongi was undeniably talented, and I found myself looking forward to the challenge of working with him.
***
The next morning, Yoongi and I sat in the studio reviewing the progress from the day before. The demo played softly in the background, and while it sounded promising, there were a few sections that felt off.
"We need to rework this transition," Yoongi said, pointing at the waveform on the screen. "It’s too abrupt. It needs more build-up."
I nodded, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Agreed. Maybe adding a soft vocal sample or layering the synth more would smooth it out."
"Try it," he said, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression.
As I adjusted the track, Yoongi’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, frowned, and stood up. "I need to take this. Keep working. I’ll be back."
He left the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind him. I sighed and refocused on the track, tweaking the layers as the melody slowly started to evolve. But after about twenty minutes, I decided to take a break. My coffee from earlier had caught up with me, and I needed to find the bathroom.
Stepping into the hallway, I started down the corridor when I heard Yoongi’s voice from around the corner. I paused, not wanting to interrupt, but something about his tone made me linger.
"...So yeah, Jihoon, I didn’t know she was a girl," he was saying.
I froze, my pulse quickening.
"I mean, if I’d known that was the case, maybe I would’ve pushed back harder at the beginning. Told them I didn’t need the help. She’s okay and talented, sure, but there are other producers out there who could’ve done this just as well."
My stomach twisted. Was that really what he thought of me? I took a step back, the faint creak of my shoe on the floor startling me. Afraid he might notice, I turned and quickly walked the other way, heading toward the nearest staircase to find another bathroom. I didn’t want to hear anything else.
After finally finding a bathroom and giving myself a moment to cool down, I headed back to the studio. I was determined not to let Yoongi know I’d overheard him, but my annoyance simmered beneath the surface. When I stepped back into the room, he was already there, seated casually at the console like he hadn’t just dismissed my abilities a few minutes ago.
"Done with your break?" he asked, not looking up as he scrolled through the project file.
"Yeah," I replied shortly, taking my seat across from him.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing at me briefly. "You okay? You sound... off."
"Just tired," I said, forcing a neutral tone.
He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. "Alright. Let’s pick up where we left off."
We dove back into the work, but my responses to his suggestions were clipped.
"That transition is too smooth," he said at one point. "It needs more contrast."
"Fine," I replied curtly, adjusting the settings without looking at him.
A few minutes later, he frowned at another section. "This part feels like it’s missing something. Maybe we should—"
"Add another layer?" I interrupted. "I know. Already on it."
Yoongi blinked at me, surprised by my tone. "What’s with the attitude?"
"Nothing," I said quickly, not meeting his gaze.
"Doesn’t seem like nothing," he said, leaning back in his chair. "If you’ve got something to say, just say it."
I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening around the mouse. "I don’t have anything to say, Yoongi. Let’s just get this done, okay?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, I thought he might push further. But then he shrugged, turning back to the monitor. "Whatever you say."
The tension in the room was palpable, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him.
"Look," he said after a long silence, his voice softer but still firm, "if something’s bothering you, it’s better to air it out now. We’re supposed to be a team, remember?"
I laughed humourlessly. "Team? Right."
Yoongi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, what did I do? You were fine this morning, and now you’re acting like I kicked your dog."
I hesitated, torn between calling him out and keeping what I’d heard to myself. In the end, I shook my head. "It’s nothing. Let’s just focus on the music."
He didn’t look convinced, but he let it drop, his focus returning to the track. For the rest of the session, I kept my replies short, my tone professional but distant. If he noticed, he didn’t comment again. But as I left the studio that evening, I couldn’t shake the sting of his words. He might think I was talented, but apparently, that wasn’t enough.
***
Sunday was a rare blessing, my day off, a chance to breathe away from the suffocating confines of the studio and Min Yoongi. The contract was clear: three months to collaborate on three tracks for his upcoming album. That deadline loomed over every interaction, and yet, the past week had felt like a year.
I sat across from Minji at our favourite café, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint hum of chatter around us. She was nursing her caramel latte, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Okay, spill," she said, leaning forward. "How’s it going with Yoongi? Are you two getting along?"
I scoffed, stirring my drink with unnecessary aggression. "Getting along? Not even close. He’s impossible."
Minji raised an eyebrow. "Impossible how? Isn’t he just... quiet and focused?"
"Quiet? Sure. Focused? Definitely. But it’s like working with a brick wall that also has an opinion on everything. He’s a perfectionist to the point where it’s unbearable. We made progress on a track, a full week’s worth of progress, and on Friday, he decided he didn’t like it and scrapped the whole thing. We’re starting from scratch tomorrow."
Her eyes widened. "He threw it all away? After a week? Was it really that bad?"
I shook my head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "No, it wasn’t bad. It was good, really good, actually. But it wasn’t perfect by his standards. He nit-picks every little thing, and don’t even get me started on his work ethic. The man doesn’t stop. I get it, he’s Yoongi, he’s supposed to be this genius producer or whatever. But does he have to be so infuriating?"
Minji smiled sympathetically, sipping her latte. "Well, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He’s got a reputation for a reason. But isn’t it a good challenge? You’re working with one of the best."
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. "I thought it would be different, you know? I had this idea of him in my head. This brilliant, creative artist who would respect me as a collaborator. Instead, he’s... cold, demanding, and so stubborn."
Minji chuckled. "Sounds like he’s met his match."
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Oh, please. If he’s met his match, he doesn’t realize it. He probably just sees me as another producer he has to tolerate."
"That’s not true," Minji said, shaking her head. "You’re talented, Y/N. He’ll see it eventually."
I sighed, taking a long sip of my coffee. "I hope so, because right now, it feels like we’re just butting heads. He questions everything I do. And don’t even get me started on his attitude. He’s so... smug sometimes."
"Smug how?"
"Like—ugh!" I gestured vaguely, trying to find the words. "It’s the way he looks at me, like he’s constantly judging whether I’m good enough to be there. He doesn’t say it outright, but I can tell he’s thinking it. And it drives me insane."
Minji laughed, leaning back in her chair. "You’ve got it bad, huh?"
"Bad?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Bad as in annoyed? Yes. Bad as in anything else? Absolutely not."
"Sure," she said, her tone teasing.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "You’re impossible."
Minji grinned, nudging my arm. "You know, maybe this is good for you. A little friction can spark creativity. And who knows? Maybe he’s just testing you."
"Testing me?" I repeated, giving her a sceptical look.
"Yeah. Like, seeing how far you’re willing to push yourself. Maybe he’s trying to figure you out."
"Or maybe he’s just a workaholic control freak," I muttered.
Minji laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Point taken. But don’t let him get under your skin too much. You’ve got this, Y/N. And who knows? By the end of three months, maybe you’ll even like him."
I snorted. "Not a chance."
But as much as I hated to admit it, her words stuck with me.
***
The following week was no easier than the first. Yoongi and I worked tirelessly in the studio, bouncing ideas off each other, experimenting with melodies, and layering sounds. For every step forward, there seemed to be two steps back.
"This bassline isn’t strong enough," Yoongi said on Tuesday, frowning at the speakers.
"I think it works," I argued. "It’s subtle, but it adds depth to the track."
"Subtle isn’t what we’re going for," he countered.
"And what are we going for, exactly?" I asked, crossing my arms.
He gave me a look, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back a smirk. "Something better than this."
I wanted to throw my notebook at him.
By Wednesday, we’d managed to salvage some of the earlier work, only for Yoongi to suggest another round of revisions.
"You’re kidding," I said, staring at him.
"Do I look like I’m kidding?" he replied, completely serious.
"Do you ever smile?" I shot back.
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
The tension between us was constant, a tug-of-war where neither of us was willing to back down. And yet, beneath the frustration, there was a strange kind of rhythm to our interactions. As much as I disliked him, I couldn’t deny that he was brilliant. Watching him work was like witnessing a master at his craft, every decision precise, every movement deliberate. But that didn’t mean I liked him. And I certainly wasn’t going to let him know just how much I respected his talent.
***
The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of the studio, casting soft golden stripes across the equipment. I was at the workstation, tweaking some samples on my laptop while Yoongi stepped out for a meeting, or whatever it was he disappeared to.
The door opened suddenly, and I assumed it was him coming back. "Did you finally decide to—"
I froze mid-sentence as someone entirely different walked in. The man was tall, with a warm smile and an unmistakable energy that lit up the room. His eyes scanned the studio until they landed on me, his confusion immediately evident.
"Uh… hi?" he said, his smile faltering slightly. "I’m looking for Yoongi. Did I walk into the wrong room? I am pretty sure this is the right one though..." he started scratching the top of his head, clearly confused.
"No, this is the right place," I replied, standing awkwardly. "He just stepped out for a bit."
His eyebrows shot up, and he pointed at me with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "Wait—who are you? Why is there… a girl in here?"
I frowned, crossing my arms. "What’s that supposed to mean? Girls aren’t allowed in studios now?"
His hands shot up defensively, and he chuckled nervously. "No, no! That’s not what I meant! It’s just… Yoongi didn’t mention working with someone new today. And you’re clearly not Jihoon."
"Clearly," I said dryly.
He laughed again, but this time it sounded more genuine. "Okay, let me start over. I’m Hoseok, but you probably know me as J-Hope."
Ah, then it clicked , of course it was J-Hope. His sunny demeanour didn’t match the grumpy energy Yoongi radiated, though, which was a refreshing change.
"Nice to meet you," I said, offering a polite nod. "I’m Y/N."
Hoseok’s expression didn’t change for a moment as if he were trying to process something. Then he grinned, leaning slightly closer like he’d just discovered something exciting.
"Wait a second," he said, his tone playfully suspicious. "I’m not even supposed to be here, you know. I heard Yoongi was working with the producer K who doesn’t even disclose their identity, but I just couldn’t resist. I love the music that K has done, so I had to come meet him. Will sign an NDA and everything."
I felt a twinge of amusement at his enthusiasm but kept my expression neutral. Something told me it was okay for him to know. "Well, congratulations. You just met… him."
Hoseok blinked, and then his jaw dropped dramatically as he pointed at me. "No way!"
"Way," I said, trying not to laugh.
His hand flew to his chest as if he were clutching imaginary pearls. "That’s why Yoongi didn’t even say anything when I begged for details! He just said, ‘There’s an NDA in place’ and refused to elaborate."
"Pretty much," I replied with a shrug.
Hoseok stared at me for a beat longer before a wide grin spread across his face. "You’re good. Like, really good. I’ve been following your work, but I never would’ve guessed you were… Well, you!"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Is that a compliment or a subtle way of saying I don’t look the part?"
"No, no, definitely a compliment," he said quickly, waving his hands. "It’s just… Yoongi’s been extra secretive about this whole thing. And now I see why."
"Yeah, well," I said, gesturing vaguely around the room, "he’s not exactly a ray of sunshine to work with."
Hoseok laughed loudly, his shoulders shaking. "Trust me, I know. But if you’re still here, that means you’re tougher than most. Or really patient."
"Or both," I muttered under my breath.
Hoseok’s grin widened, and he gave me a mock salute. "Well, K—er, Y/N—it’s an honor to meet you. Seriously. Your work speaks for itself."
He continued, a small smile playing on his lips. "Trust me, when I say this, Yoongi wouldn’t work with you if you weren’t talented. He’s picky about these things. So if he’s giving you a hard time, it’s probably because he knows you’re good enough to keep up with him."
I blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. "That’s… nice of you to say."
"Just calling it like I see it," he said with a shrug.
Before I could respond, the door opened again, and Yoongi walked in. His eyes flicked between me and Hoseok, his expression unreadable.
"What are you doing here?" he asked Hoseok, his tone laced with mild irritation.
Hoseok grinned, completely unfazed. "Came by to check on you, of course. But I see you’re in good hands."
Yoongi’s gaze shifted to me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—annoyance? Curiosity? It was hard to tell.
"Don’t you have your own schedule to worry about?" Yoongi asked, walking over to his desk.
"I’m on a break," Hoseok replied cheerfully. "And besides, I wanted to meet your mystery producer. You could’ve mentioned she’s not a guy, by the way."
Yoongi’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on the stack of notes in front of him, clearly dismissing the conversation.
"Well," Hoseok said, standing up and stretching, "I’ll leave you two to it. Nice meeting you, Y/N."
"Nice meeting you too," I said, watching as he strolled out of the room.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Yoongi and me alone again.
"You’ve been busy making friends," he said, not looking up from his papers.
"Is that a problem?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Just don’t let him distract you. We’ve got work to do."
"Wouldn’t dream of it," I said, turning back to my laptop with a hint of sarcasm.
Yoongi didn’t push further, but I could feel his gaze linger on me for a moment before he returned to his papers. But as I settled back into the project, I couldn’t help but think about what Hoseok had said. Maybe Yoongi’s high standards weren’t a bad thing. Maybe, just maybe, they were proof that he saw something in me worth pushing for.
***
The next day, I walked into the studio, ready to dive into the work, but there was something off in the air. Yoongi was sitting at his desk, staring at his screen, tapping his pen rhythmically on the surface. It was a subtle change, but it didn’t escape me, he wasn’t his usual, calm and collected self.
I sat down at my workstation, glancing over at him. He was clearly deep in thought, but there was an edge to his silence today that felt... different. More charged. I wondered if it had anything to do with yesterday’s interaction with Hoseok. Yoongi didn’t acknowledge my arrival, which was typical, but today his lack of response felt unusually pointed. After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke without looking up.
“Didn’t you want your identity a secret?” His voice was cold, almost accusatory.
I froze.
“Excuse me?” I asked, trying to hide the annoyance creeping up my neck.
“Talking to Hoseok yesterday," he continued, now looking at me with an unreadable expression. "The whole 'I can’t reveal my identity' thing. So why are you suddenly so comfortable with him knowing?"
I felt a flash of irritation surge through me, but I kept my voice level.
“I never said I was ‘comfortable’ with it,” I replied. “I’m just doing my job. And I don’t owe you an explanation about my personal decisions”.
He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to read between the lines, but said nothing more. The tension hung heavy in the room as he returned to his screen, though his fingers seemed to hesitate over the keys. I couldn’t help but scoff under my breath. What did he think? That I just decided to throw away years of carefully cultivated anonymity for fun? Minji had already alerted me that J-hope had also signed the NDA. I glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Let’s just get to work,” I said, my tone clipped, trying to deflect from the awkwardness of his question. “You said you wanted to tweak the second verse.”
“Yeah," he muttered, still not meeting my gaze, "but now I’m wondering if I even want to keep collaborating with someone who can’t keep things private.”
There it was again. That little jab. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. I gritted my teeth, my patience thinning.
“I’ve been working in this industry for years, Yoongi,” I said, fighting to keep my composure. “Long before this project. I know what’s at stake. Don’t lecture me about privacy.”
He finally glanced up, his eyes meeting mine. There was a flicker of something, was it guilt? But he quickly masked it with his usual indifference.
“Right,” he said, standing up and walking toward the soundboard. “Let’s get this over with.”
The rest of the session passed with both of us avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Despite the friction, we did manage to make some progress. I’d never admit it aloud, but Yoongi was damn good at what he did. Even when he was being insufferable. After a while, he took a deep breath, rubbing his temples like he was trying to stave off a headache.
“You’re not what I thought you’d be,” he muttered, half to himself.
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what did you expect?”
He gave me a sideways glance, not quite meeting my eyes.
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Maybe someone more... calculated. Or quieter.”
“Is that so?” I shot back, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Because I thought you liked chaos in your music.”
He smirked at that, but the tension still lingered between us, thick and unresolved.
As the day wore on, we continued to push through, though it was clear neither of us was really in the mood for any small talk or the usual banter. The chemistry that had started to form in previous days was gone, replaced by an almost uncomfortable distance. I finally stood up to stretch, my back aching from sitting for so long. Yoongi glanced at me, his expression unreadable.
“You’re leaving?” he asked, voice cool, as though he didn’t care.
“Yeah. I’m going to grab something to eat,” I replied curtly, gathering my things.
Halfway through gathering my things, for a split second, I thought I saw Yoongi open his mouth as if he was about to say something. Maybe it was the exhaustion on his face or just the weird tension between us, but for a brief second, I thought, just maybe, he was going to offer to grab something to eat with me. Instead, he just turned away, his back to me as he focused on his work. I blinked, swallowing the unexpected disappointment that bubbled up. What was I even expecting? It wasn’t like we were friends. Shaking off the weird feeling, I grabbed my bag and left the studio, the door clicking shut behind me.
***
Once I got to the company’s cafeteria, I was finally able to relax. The soft buzz of voices and clinking silverware was a welcome break from the tension in the studio. I grabbed a tray and found a seat by the window, trying my best to shove aside any thoughts of Yoongi.
He was a talented producer, no doubt, but the way he treated me was... irritating. I shouldn’t have expected anything different. This was business, not friendship, and I had no time to be distracted by someone who probably saw me as just another collaborator, nothing more.
I opened my notebook and jotted down a few ideas for the next two songs we still needed to work on. The first song was nearly done, but we’d been working on it for two weeks, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It was slow progress, and I could already feel the deadline creeping closer.
I was so deep in thought, sketching out some melodies, that I didn’t notice Hoseok standing in front of me until he waved his hand in front of my face.
“Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow, looking amused.
I jumped a little, then glanced up at him. “Oh, hey, Hoseok. Didn’t see you there.”
He slid into the seat across from me, still grinning like he knew something I didn’t. Hoseok leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning me curiously. “So, how’s it going? He’s not making it too hard for you, is he?”
I almost snorted at the question. “Hard? That’s an understatement. But yeah, I’m surviving. We’re getting somewhere.”
He raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to get along with Yoongi so easily. He’s a bit... stubborn, right?”
I shrugged, taking a bite of my food to avoid answering too directly.
“You’d be surprised what I can tolerate,” I said, feeling defensive for some reason.
Hoseok tilted his head, his gaze sharp. “I guess so. But you know, it’s funny.”
I looked up from my food, confused. “What’s funny?”
Hoseok smirked. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to be such a fan of Yoongi’s music.”
I blinked, unsure if I heard him right. “What do you mean?”
Hoseok just pointed at my phone on the table, where I’d left it open to a playlist of Yoongi’s songs.
I froze, then quickly reached to hide it, but it was too late. Hoseok’s grin widened.
“You know, I really didn’t expect that,” he said, leaning in a little closer, his tone teasing. “I mean, I always knew Yoongi’s music was good, but seeing you listen to it like that... I got to admit, I’m curious what you think of it.”
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “I’m just... trying to learn more about him, okay? It’s part of the job.”
“Sure, sure,” Hoseok said, still grinning. “I mean, I get it. He’s got a certain... appeal. But hey, don’t let it distract you too much. He’s not the easiest person to get close to.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I muttered, returning to my food, trying to act like I wasn’t the least bit fazed.
Hoseok studied me for a moment, then leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression.
“Well, if you want my advice...” He grinned again, his eyes mischievous. “Try not to fall for the music and the man, yeah?”
I choked slightly on my food, coughing. “What?!”
Hoseok laughed, clearly enjoying my reaction. “I’m just saying, Y/N, don’t get too swept up in it all. Yoongi’s a complicated guy. He’s not someone who’ll make things easy.”
I scowled, but there was a small part of me that couldn’t help but appreciate Hoseok’s frankness. “I’m not falling for anything, Hoseok. I’m just here to do my job.”
Hoseok just winked and stood up. “Whatever you say. But if you do need to talk about him... I’m always around.”
Hoseok paused, about to turn around before he shot me a sly grin over his shoulder. “Actually… I don’t know if you’re comfortable with all this yet, so you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’m known for throwing some pretty epic parties around here,” he said, his tone playful. “I’m throwing one at the company soon, gathering the staff, and some of the BTS members will be there too.”
I raised an eyebrow, confused at where this was going. “A party?”
“Yeah, and I can introduce you as the ‘Assistant of Producer K,’ so you won’t have to expose your identity if you’re worried about that. It’ll be low-key, just a way for you to get used to the vibe here. Who knows? You might even get a chance to chat with Yoongi... outside of the studio.” He smirked, his gaze lingering on me as if he could see through the walls I’d built up. “You can bring a plus-one too, if you want.”
It was tempting, especially with the idea of getting out of this studio for a while. Plus, Hoseok seemed genuine, and I didn’t want to just keep hiding away in my little corner of the world.
Still, I was cautious. This wasn’t my scene, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to step into the spotlight, especially if it meant running into Yoongi in a setting like that. The thought of it made my stomach flip.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, trying to sound neutral.
Hoseok grinned, clearly satisfied with my answer. “Take your time. You know where to find me if you decide.”
With that, he left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I sat there for a moment, turning the invitation over in my head. A party? An opportunity to get used to the vibes, meet people, and possibly see Yoongi in a completely different light. It could be good for me to step out of my shell, get out of my head for a bit. But... was I ready for that?
I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside for now. There was no need to make decisions in a rush. I’d think about it later.
I finished eating in silence, trying to push all the thoughts about Hoseok’s offer out of my head. It wasn’t like me to just drop everything for a party, but something about the idea of getting out of the studio, meeting people, and maybe getting a chance to see Yoongi in a less... tense environment intrigued me. But I couldn’t focus on that now.
I stood up, pushing my tray toward the dirty dish bin, and made my way back to the studio. As I walked through the hallway, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu. It was like I’d just left, but already it felt like I’d been away too long. The faint hum of the studio's equipment reached my ears before I even stepped through the door.
When I entered, the first thing I noticed was Yoongi, still at his spot, but now with a bowl of noodles in front of him. The faint smell of the broth hit me, and I couldn't help but cringe. Didn’t he ever leave this place?
Yoongi looked up from his meal, barely acknowledging me as I entered. "You’re back," he muttered, his voice a little muffled by a mouthful of noodles.
"Yeah," I said, letting the door close behind me. "Still working, I see."
“Of course,” he replied, the tone in his voice sounding almost too casual. "The faster we finish this, the sooner we can move on to the next track."
I dropped my bag onto the table and pulled my chair out. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You keep rushing through everything, thinking you can just ‘move on’ from one song to the next. But this isn’t a race, Yoongi.”
He looked at me sharply, his brows furrowing. "I'm not rushing anything. We need to get this done before the deadline, and you can’t expect me to just waste time on something that isn’t working."
I stared at him, my patience thinning. “You’re not even open to trying something new. Every idea I suggest gets shot down, but you’re so attached to this ‘perfect’ vision of yours. Well, guess what? Perfect doesn’t exist.”
Yoongi set his bowl down, the chopsticks clinking against the edge. “So what, you think I’m not doing my best?” His eyes narrowed, and the room suddenly felt smaller. “You think I don’t care about the quality?”
I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. “It’s not about that, Yoongi. You’re too set in your ways. You think your way is the only way, but this is a collaboration. I can’t just keep following your orders. I’m not your assistant.”
He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his forehead, like I was the last thing he needed in his life right now. "I never said you were my assistant."
“Then stop treating me like one,” I snapped, feeling my annoyance rise. "I’m not here just to cater to your ideas. If we’re working together, we need to meet in the middle."
The silence stretched between us for a few long moments. Then Yoongi glanced away, exhaling sharply as if trying to push back his own frustration. "Fine," he muttered. "We’ll figure it out. But don’t expect everything to happen overnight."
“I don’t,” I replied dryly. "But I expect respect, which is something you seem to be lacking in."
He didn’t answer right away, just went back to staring at his noodles. For a moment, I thought it might be best to just call it a day and leave, but something about the lingering tension kept me rooted to the spot.
"By the way," I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could second-guess myself. "Hoseok invited me to a party. At the company. I’m thinking about going."
Yoongi’s head snapped up at the mention of Hoseok’s name, and I caught the flash of something in his eyes—a mix of surprise, confusion. It was hard to tell. But whatever it was, it was there, even if he quickly masked it with a smirk.
“Hoseok?” he repeated, almost like he couldn’t believe it. “What’s he got to do with you going to a party?”
"I don’t know," I said, shrugging. "Maybe I’ll go. I might need a break from the studio. Get out of here for a bit. And who knows? It might be nice to talk to someone who isn’t you."
Yoongi didn’t seem pleased with that, but he said nothing. Instead, he shifted in his chair and looked at the screen in front of him, ignoring me completely.
“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” he asked, his voice low.
“I don’t know,” I replied, leaning forward on my elbows. “You’ve been pretty hard to work with lately. Maybe a break is exactly what I need.”
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask you not to take a break. I’m just... trying to get this done.”
I tilted my head, studying him for a moment. "Fine. Just let me know when you’re ready to actually collaborate. You can stop being so defensive for two seconds."
There was another tense silence before I stood up to leave the room. But as I reached for the door, something inside me—maybe frustration, maybe curiosity—made me turn back.
“By the way,” I said, walking back to Yoongi’s desk. “Could you give me Hoseok’s number? I might need it for the party.”
Yoongi froze for a second, his fingers stopping mid-air as if I’d just thrown him off balance. His eyes narrowed, and for a second, he didn’t say anything.
"Why would you need that?" he finally asked, voice tight.
"Because I need to respond to him if I am showing up or not," I replied, my tone sharp.
Yoongi glared at me but didn’t say anything else, a muscle in his jaw twitching. After a beat, he reluctantly scribbled something down on a piece of paper and slid it toward me. “Here. But if you think I’m going to chase you to the party... you’re wrong.”
I took the paper, glancing at it before shoving it into my pocket. “Thanks. I’ll make sure not to expect you there.”
Without another word, I turned and left, my mind buzzing with more questions than answers. What was going on with Yoongi? And, most importantly... Why did his attitude bother me more than I cared to admit?
***
I grabbed my phone, fingers hovering over the screen before I hit send. The past few days had been a blur of studio time and late-night meals. I needed something to break the routine. So, Thursday evening I finally decided to take Hoseok up on his offer.
Y/N: Hey Hoseok, it's Y/N! I just wanted to double-check the party details again. You said it’s at the company building, right? What time should I be there?
The response was almost immediate, Hoseok’s usual energy practically jumping out of the screen.
Hoseok: Yep! It’s at the company building. We’ll start around 7 PM, but feel free to come anytime after that. You know how these things go. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re introduced properly as “Prod K’s assistant” so no one will know who you really are. It’ll be low-key, promise!
I let out a relieved sigh. That sounded like exactly what I needed … low-key, no expectations, just a chance to escape the studio for a bit.
Y/N: Thanks, that sounds perfect. I’ll be there. Can I bring my friend Minji? She’d love to come.
Hoseok: Of course! Bring whoever you want. It’s all about having a good time. I’m looking forward to seeing you there!
I grinned at the message, feeling a little lighter. At least for one night, I could just focus on having fun and not worry about my identity or working with Yoongi.
Putting my phone down, I leaned back in my chair, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The whole idea of going to a party sounded so... normal, so different from the chaos I had been drowning in lately. The studio, Yoongi’s sharp comments, and the constant pressure to produce. Maybe this would be a good chance to just... breathe.
I glanced over at the calendar on my desk, mentally counting the days.
The next day, I texted Minji.
Y/N: Hey, I’m going to that party Hoseok invited me to on Sunday. Want to come with me?
Minji: YES YES YES YES. This is going to be so fun! Who else is going?
Y/N: Apparently, all the BTS members will be there too.
Minji: Wait, like ALL of them? Are you serious? We need to plan our outfits then.
Y/N: Just don’t go overboard, okay? Let’s keep it chill.
Minji: You know I can't do “chill” when it comes to parties!
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Minji was always up for an adventure. I knew she’d be bouncing off the walls all weekend in preparation. I didn’t mind though. If anyone could pull me out of my head and get me excited for something, it was her.
When Saturday evening arrived, the studio was buzzing with an unexpected energy. After three weeks of near-constant back-and-forth, I finally felt like we’d made some real progress. The first song was done. It wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as we could get in such a short time, and for the first time in a while, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders.
I glanced at Yoongi, who had been hunched over his computer screen for hours, typing away at the final tweaks. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but when the last beat dropped into place, he sat back in his chair and let out a long, satisfied sigh.
"We did it," he said, turning his head to meet my eyes.
It wasn’t much, but there was a slight spark in his gaze. A hint of pride, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual indifference.
“Yeah, we did,” I said, unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips. "It’s... good."
Yoongi paused, eyes locked on mine for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I guess you don’t completely suck at this after all."
I raised an eyebrow, playing along. "I’m glad to know you’re impressed."
We both laughed softly, the tension that had been hanging between us for weeks finally easing. It was a strange feeling, one I wasn’t used to with him, but I couldn’t deny it. It felt... nice. Like we’d just hit a milestone together.
Yoongi extended his hand, and I hesitated for a split second before I went for it, my palm feeling warmer than usual. Our high-five was awkward, neither of us really knowing how to react. But in that brief moment, I realized how unusual it was for us to share something this... simple.
"Congratulations," I said, nodding toward the screen. "We actually did it."
"Yeah," Yoongi replied, his voice softer than I expected. "I’ll see you on Monday, then. We’ll tackle the next one."
I blinked, taken aback for a second. Monday? Just like that, the professional distance came back. I hadn’t expected him to say that so casually, but I guess it was what we were supposed to do: get the work done, pack up, and move on.
But for some reason, as I sat there in the quiet of the studio, a thought lingered. He’s really not coming to the party, huh?
I glanced over at him, but Yoongi was already packing up his things, seemingly focused on getting out of the studio as quickly as possible. He didn’t even look back at me as he gathered his notes and the leftover snacks we had both been snacking on throughout the day.
I stood up and grabbed my bag, deciding it was better to just let it go. No need to dwell on something that wasn’t going to happen. He was Yoongi, professional, distant Yoongi. He wasn’t someone who would show up to a party for fun.
"Alright," I said, the awkwardness settling back into my chest. "See you Monday, I guess."
Yoongi glanced over at me for a brief moment, nodding. "Yeah. See you."
As I left the studio, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, but I couldn’t place what. Maybe it was just the relief of finally finishing the first song. Or maybe it was just the weird dynamic between us, the unexpected moments of quiet camaraderie that had popped up over the last few days.
But as I stepped out of the building, I realized how much I was looking forward to the party on Sunday. It was the break I needed.
***
Sunday evening came faster than I expected. Minji showed up at my apartment just as I was pulling out a few potential outfits from my closet. She threw her bag on the couch and plopped herself down with a dramatic sigh.
“Finally, a party!” she exclaimed, leaning back and stretching like she’d just run a marathon. “We’ve been cooped up with that brooding genius for weeks. We need this.”
I rolled my eyes, laying a sleek black turtleneck dress over the back of the chair. “It’s not ‘we’. I’m the one stuck with him in the studio.”
Minji snorted. “You say that like I’m not the one dealing with your constant texts complaining about how annoying he is. ‘Minji, he’s impossible. Minji, he’s a perfectionist. Minji, he’s so irritatingly—’”
“Okay, okay,” I interrupted, throwing a pillow at her. “I get it.”
She caught the pillow with a grin. “Admit it, though. You’re starting to like working with him, aren’t you?”
“Like is a strong word,” I muttered, holding up a dark green dress and then discarding it. “We finally finished one song yesterday. That’s it.”
“But you’re not denying it.” She smirked, standing up to rummage through the pile of clothes I’d pulled out. “Ooh, this one’s cute.”
She held up a sequined gold dress, and I shook my head immediately. “Too flashy. I’m not trying to stand out. Just look professional and approachable.”
Minji rolled her eyes. “You know this is a party, right? Not a corporate meeting?”
“Still. I want to keep a low profile,” I said, picking up the black turtleneck dress. It was tight enough to show some curves but modest enough to feel professional, with long sleeves and a hemline that hit just above the knees. “What about this?”
Minji tilted her head, considering. “It’s very you. Chic, understated, mysterious. And Yoongi’s probably going to notice you in it.”
I groaned. “Not everything is about Yoongi!“
Minji raised an eyebrow, smirking as she flopped onto the couch. “Oh, really? If it’s not about Yoongi, then why are you quoting him like he’s living rent-free in your head?”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Because it’s relevant! When I told him Hoseok invited me, Yoongi literally said, ‘But if you think I’m going to chase you to the party... you’re wrong.’ And yesterday, after we finished the song, he ended with, ‘See you Monday.’” I huffed. “He couldn’t have been clearer about not showing up.”
Minji snorted. “Wow. He really went out of his way to make sure you knew, huh?”
“Exactly.” I tossed the dress onto the bed. “So, can we drop this whole ‘Yoongi might surprise you at the party’ thing? It’s not happening.”
Minji held up her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No Yoongi talk. But honestly, he sounds so extra about it. Like, what’s his deal? You’re the one who didn’t even want to be there with him in the first place.”
“Exactly!” I said again, throwing my hands up. “I don’t even care if he shows up or not. This is supposed to be my break. I just want to go, enjoy the night, and pretend I don’t have deadlines hanging over my head for one evening.”
Minji smirked knowingly but didn’t say anything more as she got up to sift through her own options for the party. After a moment, she held up a red dress with a dramatic neckline and sparkling details. “What about this for me? It screams ‘I’m the fun friend.’”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You don’t need a dress to say that. Everyone already knows.”
***
A little while later, we were both ready. Minji had gone with her glittery red dress, while I stuck to my black turtleneck one.
As we grabbed our things, Minji gave me a playful nudge. “Okay, so, final thoughts: what if Yoongi does show up, despite everything he said?”
I shot her a withering look. “Then I’ll eat my words. But that’s not happening.”
Minji grinned as we headed out the door. “We’ll see.”
***
The energy of the party was already palpable as Minji and I entered the venue. The music was loud enough to drown out any awkward thoughts, and the lighting cast a warm, celebratory glow. Before we could get our bearings, a familiar figure spotted us and made his way over with an enthusiastic wave.
“Welcome, welcome!” Hoseok beamed, his smile as bright as the room itself. “You made it! I was starting to think you’d ditch last minute.”
Minji laughed. “Not with you hosting, J-hope. She couldn’t say no.”
I shot her a quick glare but turned to Hoseok with a polite smile. “Thanks for inviting us.”
As we exchanged pleasantries, a small group approached him, each handing over neatly wrapped gifts or gift bags.
“Happy birthday, Hobi!” one of them exclaimed, pulling him into a quick hug before leaving the gift with him.
I blinked, taken aback. “Wait... birthday?” I turned to Hoseok, brows furrowed. “Is this... your birthday party?”
Hoseok gave me a sheepish grin. “Well, yeah. Kind of.”
I stared at him, stunned. “You didn’t tell me it was your birthday!”
“Of course, I didn’t,” he replied, laughing. “If I told you, you wouldn’t have come. Admit it!”
I opened my mouth to protest, then paused, realizing he wasn’t entirely wrong. “…Okay, fair. But now I feel terrible. I didn’t bring you anything.”
He waved it off with a casual flick of his hand. “Don’t even worry about it. Your presence is enough of a gift.”
Minji rolled her eyes playfully. “Wow, smooth.”
I ignored her, offering Hoseok a tentative smile. “Well, if that’s the case, I owe you dinner. My treat. Birthday special.”
Hoseok’s grin widened, and he gave me a mock bow. “I’ll hold you to that.”
As the party carried on, my mind wandered, unbidden, to Yoongi. If it was Hoseok’s birthday, then surely Yoongi would be here, right? They were bandmates, practically brothers. Despite everything he’d said, it felt impossible that he wouldn’t show up to celebrate.
Right?
Hoseok, catching my distracted expression, nudged me lightly. “Come on, let me introduce you to the guys.”
As Hoseok led me through the crowd, I tried to shake off the lingering thoughts about Yoongi. I couldn’t help myself, though; the idea that he wasn’t here, despite everything, gnawed at me. Was he really just going to stay out of sight, like he’d said? Or had something else kept him away?
"Hey, over here," Hoseok called, his voice cutting through my thoughts as he pulled me toward the others. "Everyone, this is Y/N and Minji, the assistant and the manager of Producer K!"
The guys all turned to look, some with grins on their faces, others with more curious expressions. I gave a small wave, trying to maintain the composure I knew I needed for moments like this. Being around people like them—BTS—was something I wasn’t used to, but I was starting to adjust, or at least, I hoped I was.
"Y/N and Minji, huh? Nice to meet you," Jimin said first, flashing me a grin that lit up his whole face. "Hoseok's always talking about Producer K’s work. You must also be a pretty big deal if you’re working with him."
"Yeah, I've heard about his skills," Taehyung added, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Nice to meet some of the brains behind the scenes." He gave a slight bow, which I returned awkwardly.
"We've been hearing a lot about you guys," Namjoon said, his deep voice steady and reassuring. "It's nice to finally put a face to the names."
"Thanks," I replied, trying to keep the mood light. "We just do our part in the background."
They all nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer. But it was clear that Hoseok’s introduction had piqued their interest, and the attention felt overwhelming. I quickly shifted my gaze to see if Yoongi had come in yet, but the crowd was thick, and I didn’t spot him immediately.
"Minji," I whispered, trying to keep my voice low, "Do you think Yoongi’s coming?"
Minji raised an eyebrow. "Why? Are you hoping he does?"
I shot her a sharp look, but she just laughed, nudging me playfully. "Relax, Y/N. If he’s coming, he’ll show up eventually. For now, just enjoy the party. You’ve earned it."
I sighed and nodded, trying to push the thoughts of Yoongi aside. There was no point in stressing over something I couldn’t control.
As the introductions continued, Hoseok pulled me into a more private corner of the room, away from the group for a moment. "You’re doing great," he said with a genuine smile. "I know this might feel like a lot, but you’re handling it well. The others are just excited to meet you. They’ve heard a lot about producer K."
"Thanks," I replied, a little surprised at his sudden encouragement. "I’m just trying to keep a low profile, honestly."
"Yeah, I get it," Hoseok nodded knowingly. "You know, though, if you want to meet some more people, I can introduce you around. You don’t have to worry about your identity being exposed here. "
I just nodded, grateful for his understanding. But part of me was still wondering, was Yoongi going to show up? Or had I been right all along? Was he truly not interested in stepping outside of the studio for something like this?
At that moment, Jungkook stepped over to join us. "What’s up, guys?" he said with a smile.
Hoseok grinned and gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, you! This is Y/N, Producer K’s assistant. You’ve heard a lot about her, right?"
Jungkook looked at me, his expression slightly puzzled at first before breaking into a smile. "Ah, yeah, I’ve heard a little. Nice to meet you, Y/N." He gave a casual wave, but there was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.
"Nice to meet you too," I replied with a slight smile.
Jungkook seemed to sense the tension in the air, glancing between Hoseok and me. "So, Hyung, who else did you invite?"
Hoseok grinned, looking around the room. "A lot more people, but ah, yes, Y/N—the only member you haven’t met yet is Jin. He’s in the military, so it’s just the rest of us holding down the fort tonight."
I nodded, trying to mask my surprise. "Ah, I didn’t realize. That must be tough for you guys."
Hoseok shrugged, but there was a hint of something bittersweet in his eyes. "Yeah, but it is what it is. We’re all proud of him, of course. We just miss him, that’s all."
Jungkook nodded in agreement. "It’s been a while, but we’ll manage. He’ll be back before we know it."
I felt a pang of empathy for them, understanding how difficult it must be to have someone so important absent from events like this. But the conversation quickly shifted as Hoseok directed it back to me.
"So, Y/N, now that you’ve met the guys, are you having fun? No pressure, just curious." He raised an eyebrow, clearly looking for my reaction.
I forced a smile, trying to get out of my own head. "Yeah, it’s been good. Just a little overwhelming."
"Totally understandable," Jungkook said, giving me a reassuring smile. "But don’t worry. It’s just a party. No big deal."
I chuckled softly, grateful for the small bit of comfort. But my thoughts still drifted back to Yoongi. Would he really not show up?
Just then, I spotted Minji on the dance floor, looking like she was having the time of her life. Without a second thought, I nudged Hoseok. "I think I need to join her," I said, already pushing my way through the crowd.
"Go ahead," Hoseok replied with a grin. "I’ll be around if you need anything."
I made my way over to Minji, and we quickly fell into the rhythm of the music, letting the beat carry us away. The drinks were flowing, and before I knew it, the atmosphere shifted into a carefree, almost electric vibe. As more people showed up, the party grew livelier, and from time to time, some of the BTS members would come over and join us on the dance floor. It was fun, it was wild, but... my mind kept drifting back to Yoongi.
Unable to hold it in any longer, I pulled Hoseok aside when I caught him by the bar. "Hey, Hoseok... Where’s Yoongi?"
Hoseok glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, then shrugged. "Oh, he was here earlier, literally before you showed up. Now that you mention it, though, I haven’t seen him since."
I felt a strange mix of disappointment and... relief? I wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe it was better this way, but somehow, a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing from the night.
Minji and I were having a blast, drink after drink, dance after dance. The music, the energy, everything was a blur of fun. I couldn’t remember the last time I had let myself enjoy the moment so freely, and for a while, it was exactly what I needed. But after a few more songs, I started to feel a little dizzy, the world spinning just slightly out of focus.
"Minji, I’m going to head somewhere quiet for a bit," I said, my voice a little unsteady. "I just need to lay down, get myself together. I’ll be back in a bit, okay?"
She shot me a playful grin, still bouncing to the beat. "Take care of yourself, girl! I’ll be here if you need me!"
With that, I slipped away from the dance floor, trying to stay steady on my feet. I remembered the studio I’d worked for the past weeks had a cosy sofa tucked away in one of its corners. It was the perfect place to rest for a bit until the dizziness passed.
I made my way to the studio, feeling the coolness of the hallway against my skin. The noise of the party seemed to fade as I pushed open the door, the silence of the room a welcome contrast to the chaos outside. I sank onto the sofa, closing my eyes for a few moments, hoping to just let the room settle.
I was only half-aware of how long I’d been there when I heard the door creak open. My eyes fluttered open, and I instantly tensed. Had someone followed me in?
There, standing in the doorway, was Yoongi. He looked surprised to see me there, his eyebrows knitting together as he glanced around the room before fixing his gaze on me.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone still as clipped as ever.
I raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing here?" I shot back. "I thought you weren't even coming to the party."
His eyes narrowed for a moment, but then he seemed to shrug it off. "Well I did. But, I don’t exactly need to announce my presence to everyone." His voice was colder than usual.
I bit my lip, frustration rising in my chest. "Then why are you here, Yoongi? If you're so indifferent about the party, why are you hiding out here?"
His shoulders tensed slightly as he crossed his arms in front of him while standing next to the coach, his eyes not quite meeting mine. "Not hiding. Just... thinking." He sighed. "I could ask the same thing."
I crossed my arms too, feeling the heat of irritation flood my veins. "I’m just getting away from the noise for a bit, okay?"
He didn't seem convinced, his lips forming a faint, sarcastic smile. "Right. Just taking a break. From everything, including the party, in my studio huh?"
Before I could respond, the unease that had been building between us finally snapped thanks to the alcohol. I pushed past him, moving toward the door. "Fine, I’ll leave. You can have your privacy too, Yoongi."
I turned sharply, my frustration boiling over, and reached for the door. The cool metal handle felt solid beneath my fingers, offering a small comfort. But as soon as I used it to crack the door open, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me. A hand shot out, and in one swift motion, Yoongi’s arm stretched across me, pushing the door shut and blocking my escape.
I froze, my pulse quickening as I felt the warmth of his body close behind me. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe for a moment, caught in the tension of his presence. His arm hovered just inches from my face, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he braced himself against the door. I could feel the faint shift of air from his movement, the pressure of his proximity filling the space between us. He was so close, but he didn’t touch me.
His breath was warm against the back of my neck, his presence so tangible that it almost felt suffocating. I couldn’t help but stiffen, the tension in the air thick and heavy. My hand, still gripping the door handle, trembled slightly, and I could feel my heart thudding in my chest.
"Let go," I muttered, my voice low, tight with a mix of anger and something else that I couldn’t quite place.
But Yoongi didn’t budge. He was silent for a long moment, his body pressed just behind mine, not quite touching, but close enough that I could feel his every movement, his breath still brushing over the back of my neck.
"No," he said, his voice soft but firm’’...stay.” There was no hesitation in his tone, as though he had made up his mind about this. About me.
I didn’t turn to face him. I couldn’t. But I could hear the subtle shift in his tone. It wasn’t just the frustration from before—it was something else now. Something quieter.
"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, though my hands were still shaking, my fingers gripping the door handle as if it might ground me. "Why should I stay?"
Yoongi’s breath seemed to hitch at that, and he shifted slightly, his chest brushing against my back as he leaned in just enough for me to feel the weight of his presence. "Because," he started slowly, his voice almost a murmur, "I didn’t tell you to leave."
His words were unexpected. I hadn’t anticipated this, whatever it was, this softness in his tone, this tension building between us.
I could feel myself bristling and I turned around to face him. "Why should I listen? You didn’t even want to work with me in the first place. Why should I stay here with you now?"
"Who told you that?"
His voice, quieter now when his eye caught mine, but the words still stung. "I overheard you that day, talking to Jihoon on the phone, during the first week. You said you should've argued harder with your company to not work with me... and you said it was because I’m a woman."
I could feel my chest tighten as the words left my lips. The tension in the air thickened, and before I knew it, I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
Yoongi’s face faltered. His eyes softened.
"I didn’t say that." Yoongi's voice was quieter, almost apologetic now. "If you heard me properly that day... I said I knew you were talented. And I knew how much you value your privacy. I know this whole thing is risky for you. That’s why… if I had known you were a woman, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to work with you. I didn’t want to blow your cover or make you feel uncomfortable around me the whole time".
I blinked, my heart dropping. I felt like I had heard those words, but it was as if I hadn’t truly processed them until now. Not in that context. I could feel my breath catch in my throat. I didn’t know what to say. His words were so different from what I had thought. My mind was swirling, and before I could stop it, a few tears broke free and slid down my cheek.
Without a word, Yoongi stepped closer, his hand brushing my cheek gently, his thumb swiping away the tears while holding my face.
I froze, staring up at him, unsure of what was happening, but the proximity, his nearness, was overwhelming. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, and his touch was so soft it almost made my heart ache.
His eyes met mine again, searching, lingering. We were so close now. His breath mingled with mine as he looked down at me, and I could feel the heat between us.
"Can I..." He started, his voice low, almost hesitant, but before he could finish, the door suddenly jolted behind me.
I jumped, both of us stepping away instinctively, my heart racing. The air between Yoongi and me shattered in an instant.
It was Hoseok. He stepped inside, a playful grin on his face, but his eyes didn’t seem to notice me. "Yoongi! Where’s Y/N? She was looking out for you earlier, and then she just disappeared on me."
I couldn’t look at either of them. I just stood there, my back to the door, trying to breathe normally.
Hoseok stepped further into the room, a confused expression crossing his face as he noticed me and the way Yoongi was standing. He glanced between us, his gaze flicking back to Yoongi. "Everything good here?" he asked, sounding half-serious, half-playful.
I quickly moved, my cheeks flushed, and hurried out of the room, unable to handle the awkwardness any longer. Hoseok called after me, but I didn’t look back. I just needed to get away, to breathe, to think.
But as I walked away, I couldn’t stop the images of Yoongi’s eyes on me, his breath on my skin. What had just happened? I wasn’t sure, but my heart was pounding in my chest as I moved further from that room, from him.
***
When I finally made it back to the party, I spotted Minji chatting away with Taehyung. She looked up and waved me over, her usual bright energy making her stand out. But I couldn’t shake the feeling from earlier. Yoongi's words, his actions. I knew I needed to leave.
"Minji," I said, cutting through the conversation. "We need to go." She blinked, surprised at the abruptness of my tone, but nodded without questioning me. I turned to Taehyung, who had been listening to Minji ramble on, with a smile on his face.
"Tell Hoseok I’m sorry, but I have to leave. I'll see him again soon," I said, my voice steady. "And remind him that I still owe him that dinner."
Taehyung raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He just gave me a knowing smile. "Alright, take care. I’ll let him know."
Minji and I made our way out of the venue, the lights of the party fading as we stepped into the cool night air. The moment we were in a taxi, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.
Minji glanced at me, her eyes practically sparkling with mischief as she read me like an open book. “Wow. So you did meet him. What happened? Tell me everything. Now."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "You’re relentless, you know that?"
Minji threw me a playful look. "You're not getting away with it. I need to know all the details. Was it awkward? Did he talk to you? What did he say? Was it... was it like, a moment?"
I groaned, leaning back against the headrest. "Honestly, it was... complicated." I paused, gathering my thoughts. "We had a bit of an argument, and then, out of nowhere, he blocked the door when I tried to leave. He didn’t want me to go. And then, he... he said some things. I don’t know. Things about me being a woman, about my privacy... It just felt like it was all crashing down in one moment."
Minji’s face shifted from excitement to concern. "Wait, what? He said what about your privacy?"
I sighed deeply, recalling the mix of emotions from that moment. "I told him I overheard him on the phone saying he didn't want to work with me because I was a woman. I was mad. And I think I was hurt, too. He didn’t deny it. He said... he said that he knows I’m talented and that he wouldn’t have worked with me if he knew I was a girl because it could’ve blown my cover. I... I didn’t know what to think."
Minji stared at me, processing everything I’d just said. "Wow. That’s a lot. But it sounds like he really didn’t want to hurt you, Y/N. I mean, he doesn’t want to blow your cover, and he’s not the type to just say stuff for no reason. I think he might’ve been trying to protect you in his own way."
I shook my head, still not fully understanding it all. "Maybe. But it doesn’t make it easier. He’s so confusing, Minji. One minute, he’s mad at me, then we’re... closer than I thought. I don’t even know if I want to deal with it."
Minji placed a hand on mine, her expression softening. "You’re allowed to be confused. I get it. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a good thing. He’s not the only one with walls up, you know? You’ve got yours too."
I sighed, leaning back again. "Yeah, but this... this is different. He’s not supposed to make me feel like this."
Minji didn’t say anything at first, but then she shrugged slightly. "Look, I can’t tell you what to do. But whatever happens, you’ll figure it out. You always do."
Her words were comforting, even though I wasn’t sure if I agreed. I wanted to know what Yoongi wanted from me, if anything. But for now, I had to focus on what came next.
***
The next morning, I woke up feeling like I was moving through a fog. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol from the night before or the confusion swirling around my thoughts, but I had to get up, get ready, and go to work. It was just another day. I was a professional, after all.
As I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but think about everything that had happened between Yoongi and I the night before. The words, the tension, the way he blocked the door... It all felt like a surreal dream now. I quickly pushed those thoughts away, forcing myself to focus. I’d told Minji last night that I wouldn’t mention it again. That was the plan. I was going to walk in, act normal, and get through this day like nothing had happened. I had a job to do.
I dressed quickly, choosing something that felt both comfortable and professional, jeans and a simple blouse. Nothing too attention-grabbing. With one last look at myself in the mirror, I headed out.
The drive to the studio was quiet, my mind a little too preoccupied with what I’d left behind. I thought about texting Minji again, but I didn’t want to be that person who overanalysed everything. I’d deal with it.
The moment I stepped into the studio, I immediately spotted Yoongi, already seated at the desk, headphones on, his gaze focused on the screen in front of him. The familiar quiet hum of the place seemed to swallow up any lingering awkwardness between us.
I set my bag down on the sofa and made my way over to the desk, trying to appear as casual as possible. I could feel Yoongi’s eyes flicker briefly in my direction, but he didn’t acknowledge me right away. That was fine. No need for anything weird to happen today. I wasn’t going to let it.
“Morning,” I said, offering a neutral smile, willing myself to act as though last night had never even happened.
Yoongi just nodded, his expression still unreadable. "Morning."
I took my seat and opened my notebook, flipping through the pages as if the routine of it all would help settle the tension that had been gnawing at me since our confrontation the night before. The silence between us felt a little less suffocating, though. It wasn’t that we were talking more, it was just that Yoongi didn’t seem as harsh on his tone today. No biting comments yet, no sharp observations either.
He adjusted the volume on the speakers and clicked around on the computer for a few seconds before speaking again. "You finished that beat you were working on Saturday?"
“Yeah, it’s done,” I replied, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were focused on the screen, but I noticed there was a slight change in his demeanour. The tension from before, the coldness, seemed to have faded. It wasn’t gone completely, but it was much more subtle now.
He didn’t respond immediately, just tapped a few keys on the keyboard before nodding. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”
I slid the flash drive with the updated track across the table. Yoongi took it, plugged it into the system, and started the track without a word. The room filled with the sound of the beat I had been perfecting, and I waited, watching his reaction closely.
As the beat played, Yoongi’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t make any negative comments this time. He just let the track play all the way through, his eyes scanning the waveform on the screen, listening intently.
When the track ended, he leaned back in his chair, finally looking over at me. “Not bad.”
I couldn’t help but feel a small relief wash over me. "Not bad" from Yoongi was a compliment, even if it didn’t sound like one. At least he hadn’t outright criticized it.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel my nerves creeping back up again. “Anything you want me to change?”
Yoongi scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a little too clean. Add some grit, something to make it stand out more. We need it to hit harder.”
I nodded, taking mental notes. “Got it. I’ll work on that.”
It felt almost normal, the way we interacted. No lingering animosity, no mention of what had happened the night before.
As the session continued, the vibe between us remained steady, calm and professional, with just a touch of the underlying tension we hadn’t addressed. We worked for hours, tweaking the track here and there, going back and forth on the sound and rhythm until everything was just the way we wanted it.
At some point, Yoongi stood up and stretched, letting out a quiet sigh. “I’m going to grab a coffee. You want anything?”
I blinked, surprised. He’d never offered to get me anything before, not like this. His tone was casual, though, like it was no big deal.
“I’ll take an iced coffee,” I said, half-smiling at the unexpected gesture.
Yoongi didn’t say anything, just nodded and walked out of the studio. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. It wasn’t like everything was magically fixed, but there was something about this new, less tense dynamic that felt... better. More comfortable, even.
As I sat back in my chair, I tried to focus on the track again, but my mind kept drifting. What has changed between us? I knew I wasn’t imagining it, there was definitely something different today. But I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
When Yoongi came back with the coffee, we fell back into the routine of the session, but now, it felt almost easy. We were working smoothly, and I caught him glancing over at me once or twice, his eyes lingering a little longer than before.
Still, neither of us brought up what happened the night before. Not yet. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Or maybe it was something neither of us wanted to revisit.
***
As the day came to a close, I packed up my things, feeling the weight of the day lifting off my shoulders. I had managed to get through the session with Yoongi without any more awkwardness, which was a small victory in itself. As I grabbed my bag, I looked over at Yoongi, who was already absorbed in his work again.
“See you tomorrow,” I said casually, ready to leave the studio.
Yoongi gave me a small nod, his focus not wavering. “Yeah, see you.”
I left the studio and stepped into the cool evening air, the city lights twinkling in the distance. I needed a distraction. Something to take my mind off everything that had happened with Yoongi.
I pulled out my phone and quickly sent a text to Hoseok.
Y/N: Hey, are you free tonight?
Hoseok: Yeah, I’m free. What’s up?
Y/N: I told you I owe you dinner. Want to grab some barbecue tonight?
Hoseok: Haha, of course I didn’t forget! Even Taehyung reminded me about it last night after you left! So yeah, sure, let’s do it. When and where?
Y/N: How about at 7 at that popular spot in Gangnam?
Hoseok: Perfect! I’ll see you there. I’ll be starving by the time we meet!
Y/N: Same here. I’m ready to eat my weight in meat.
Hoseok: Haha, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N!
Y/N: See you soon!
I smiled as I read our conversation. Hoseok had a way of lightening the mood, and the idea of spending the evening with him, laughing and eating good food, felt like the perfect way to unwind.
When I arrived at the restaurant, the smell of grilled meat hit me as soon as I stepped inside. I scanned the room for Hoseok and spotted him right away. He was sitting at a table near the back, looking up at me with a wide smile as always.
"Y/N!" he greeted me, standing up to wave as I approached.
"Helloo!" I said with a grin, taking my seat across from him.
He immediately grabbed the menu, flipping through it. "So, what are you in the mood for? Meat, meat, and more meat?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
"Definitely," I replied, laughing. "I’ve been craving barbecue all day."
We both ordered a few different cuts of meat, and as we waited for the grill to heat up, Hoseok leaned back in his chair, looking at me curiously.
"So, what happened last night?" he asked casually, the question catching me a bit off guard.
I hesitated for a second, my fingers tapping on the table. "What do you mean?" I asked, pretending not to understand what he was getting at.
"You know... I could tell something was a little off when you left the party, after i caught you with Yoongi at the studio.." Hoseok said, his tone soft but inquisitive. "Everything okay between you two?”
I shrugged, forcing a smile. "Yeah, everything’s fine," I said, though the words didn’t feel entirely true. "We finished the first song. Two more to go, and then we’ll be done."
Hoseok didn’t seem convinced. He nodded and took a sip of his drink before continuing. "Well, that’s good. I’m glad to hear you’re making progress. But, uh... are you sure everything’s okay with him? You know... since you’ve been working really closely together."
I looked down at my hands for a moment, gathering my thoughts. "It’s fine, Hoseok. Really. Just... we have our days, you know?"
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. "If you say so."
The food arrived, and the sizzling sounds of meat on the grill distracted us both for a moment. Hoseok was quick to start cooking, flipping the pieces of meat with ease. The smell was intoxicating, and I could already feel my stomach growling in anticipation.
We continued to eat, talk, and laugh, the mood light and easy. Hoseok was a great conversationalist. We talked about music, our favourite songs, and his plans for the future. It felt so natural, like we’d known each other for years instead of just a month.
At one point, he pulled out his phone. "Hey, I’d like you to hear something," he said, tapping away at the screen. A moment later, his phone was playing a new track, a smooth, upbeat melody that instantly grabbed my attention.
"This is one of my newer tracks," Hoseok said, watching me closely as the music played. "I’m really proud of it so far, but I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. What do you think?"
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over me. "This is really good, Hoseok," I said, smiling. "It’s got such a great vibe. It’s... it’s got that perfect energy."
He grinned, clearly pleased with the feedback. "Thanks. I’m hoping it’s going to be a hit. But, you know, it’s not finished yet. Still got a bit of work to do."
"Well, I’d be happy to help with anything you need," I said, my tone sincere. "I think you’re on the right track. I can already picture it in a club."
"Yeah? You’re the expert," he said, leaning back in his chair with a proud smile. "Maybe I should bring you on as a collaborator someday."
I raised my eyebrows at the suggestion. "Collaborator? That would be interesting."
Hoseok laughed, shaking his head. "I’m just saying... if you’re up for it…"
"Maybe," I teased, taking a sip of my drink.
As the night went on, we continued to enjoy the barbecue, the conversation flowing easily between us. It was a welcome distraction from the confusion that had been hanging over me lately. It was hard not to feel at ease around Hoseok. He was kind, funny, and genuine in a way that made me feel like I could let my guard down.
Eventually, after we’d eaten our fill and were lounging in our seats, Hoseok pulled out his phone again. "Come on, let’s take a photo," he suggested, grinning. "You know, for the memories."
I nodded with a smile and he grabbed his phone, opening the camera. We both leaned in, the grill between us, holding our drinks up like we were toasting. "Best birthday gift ever," Hoseok said dramatically as the picture snapped, before quickly typing something into his phone.
"Done!" he said proudly. "I posted it to my close friends on Kakao Talk. You know, just in case anyone wants to know how I spent my special days."
I laughed, shaking my head. "You’re crazy."
"I know," he said with a wink, taking another drink from his glass. "But seriously, Y/N, this has been fun. Thanks for asking me to come out tonight. You’re a lot of fun to hang out with."
I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. "Of course. I’m glad we did this. It’s been way too long since I’ve had a night like this myself."
"Same here," Hoseok said with a smile. "We should do it again sometime."
As the night wound down to an end, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. It had been a good night, and it felt like I’d finally had a chance to breathe again. The pressure I’d been carrying, the weight of my thoughts about Yoongi and everything that had happened, seemed to lighten a little as I had sat there across from Hoseok, laughing and eating with no other worries.
When the bill arrived, I was quick to grab it, remembering my promise. "It’s on me tonight," I said, pulling my card out before Hoseok could protest. I shook my head, giving him a playful look. "I owe you dinner, remember?"
He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll let you have your moment." He watched me pay, his expression softening into something more genuine. "But next time, I’m the one picking the place and bill."
"Deal," I said, with a smirk. "But only if it’s something equally as good as tonight."
"Haha, I’ll try," he replied, still laughing.
As we walked out of the restaurant, we decided that the evening had been a success, and that we would definitely plan another time to hang out. It was nice to have a real moment with him, away from all the stress and confusion, it had been exactly what I needed, an evening of laughter, food, and friendship. And for that, I was thankful.
***
The next day, I walked into the studio feeling lighter than I had in weeks. My relationship with Yoongi seemed to had softened after yesterday, and dinner with Hoseok had been a bright spot in an otherwise chaotic schedule. I was ready to tackle the second track with a fresh perspective.
As always, Yoongi was already in the studio when I arrived, sitting at the mixing desk, adjusting levels with his usual quiet focus. He acknowledged me with a small nod as I set up my things. His demeanour seemed normal at first, calm and business like.
We dove into the track, bouncing ideas back and forth. At first, everything felt fine, normal even. But as the hours ticked by, Yoongi’s feedback became sharper, his tone more clipped.
“Can you take this seriously?” he snapped suddenly after I made a suggestion about the arrangement.
I looked up, startled. “I am taking this seriously. What’s going on with you today? You seemed fine yesterday.”
“Nothing’s going on,” he said curtly, not looking at me. His fingers tapped at the keyboard with more force than necessary. “You just need to focus more on the job you’re supposed to do.”
I frowned, confused by his sudden change in attitude. “We’re making progress,” I said cautiously, trying to keep my voice calm. “I’m confident we’ll meet the deadline.”
Yoongi spun his chair to face me, his eyes narrowing. “If you really cared about the deadline, you would focus on the work instead of going out to dinner with Hoseok and wasting your energy there.”
His words hit like a slap. I blinked, completely taken aback. “How do you even know about the dinner?”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “He posted it on Kakao Talk. All the guys were talking about it in the group chat.”
I froze, trying to process what he was saying. Of course Hoseok had shared it, but it was a perfectly innocent dinner, and he’d been excited about it. Still, I felt a strange pang of guilt under Yoongi’s intense gaze.
“I invited him because I felt bad about going to his birthday party without bringing a gift,” I explained, my voice steady but defensive. “I just wanted to make up for it.”
Yoongi’s eyes stayed locked on mine, unreadable. “It’s interesting,” he said coolly, “how close you are with him. I’m the one you work with every day. You don’t see us going to dinner, do you?”
I opened my mouth to respond but hesitated, unsure of what to say. Before I could gather my thoughts, Yoongi waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. Let’s just get back to work.”
The room fell into an awkward silence. I stared at him for a moment longer, trying to make sense of his reaction, but his posture was closed off, his focus fully on the screen in front of him. With a frustrated sigh, I turned back to my notes and forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand.
The rest of the session felt strained. Yoongi’s usual calm, measured feedback was replaced with sharp, almost impatient remarks. It wasn’t just the work, something else was clearly bothering him, but I couldn’t figure out what.
Then, halfway through a take, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression tightening. Without a word, he stood and began gathering his things.
“What’s going on?” I asked, breaking the tense silence.
“Nothing,” he said shortly, not meeting my eyes. “Let’s cut this short today.”
“Yoongi—” I started, but he was already slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his tone final.
And just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the studio. I stared at the door for a long moment, my emotions a mix of confusion and frustration. Whatever had just happened felt personal, even though I couldn’t understand why.
As I packed up my things, my mind kept circling back to his words, to the way he’d looked at me. You don’t see us going to dinner, do you? What did that even mean? Why did it sound like he cared, like it bothered him?
Shaking my head, I gathered my bag and left the studio. No matter how much I wanted to make sense of it, I wasn’t going to let Yoongi’s mood derail the progress we were making, or my own peace of mind. I had a job to do, and I wasn’t about to let this strange tension get in the way.
***
The next day, Yoongi and I exchanged only a few words when I arrived at the studio. His mood seemed calmer than yesterday, though still a little distant. I decided not to push it.
We worked steadily through the day, both of us falling into the rhythm of our tasks. It wasn’t awkward, just focused, like two professionals determined to meet their goal. The hours passed in a blur of music, notes, and adjustments. By the time Yoongi looked up from the computer, his face was lit with mild surprise.
“Ah, shit,” he muttered, glancing at the clock. “It’s late,” rubbing the back of his neck. “We should stop here for today. It’s good progress.”
I nodded and stood up, but as soon as I tried to take a step, my legs wobbled beneath me. I reached out to steady myself against the desk, my vision spinning slightly.
Yoongi was already on his feet, stepping toward me with concern etched on his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “I think I’m just a little dizzy. Now that I think about it… I didn’t even eat lunch.”
Without a word, he reached for my wrist and tugged gently. “Let’s go.”
“Wait, what?” I asked, caught off guard. “Go where?”
“To eat,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I tried to protest as he led me out of the studio and toward his car. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll grab something on the way home.”
Yoongi ignored me, opening the passenger door and gesturing for me to get in. Reluctantly, I slid into the seat, and he shut the door before walking around to the driver’s side.
The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. I glanced at him a few times, wondering why he was going out of his way like this, but his expression was unreadable.
We arrived at a small, cosy restaurant tucked away in a quiet part of the city. Yoongi parked the car and got out without a word, waiting for me to follow.
Inside, the warm lighting and inviting atmosphere made me relax a little. We were seated at a corner table, and soon, the smell of grilled meat and savoury dishes filled the air.
“About yesterday,” he started, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
I glanced up, momentarily stunned. He wasn’t looking at me; instead, his gaze was fixed on his plate, as if the words were hard to push out.
“I was out of line,” he admitted, exhaling sharply, almost like the confession itself was a weight lifted.
I blinked, my chopsticks hovering mid-air. Yoongi rarely, if ever, admitted fault. This was unexpected.
“I took a lot of things out on you,” he continued, his tone laced with a hint of self-reproach. His chopsticks moved idly, pushing food around on his plate as if it could somehow distract him from the vulnerability of the moment. “Things that weren’t your fault. And for that, I’m sorry.”
The sincerity in his voice made my breath catch. This wasn’t the stoic, sharp-tongued producer I’d been working with for weeks. This was Yoongi stripped of his usual defences, and it threw me off balance.
“You... You’re apologizing?” I finally said, a mix of disbelief and teasing slipping into my tone.
His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Yeah. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“I mean, how can I not?” I said, leaning back in my chair, folding my arms in mock astonishment. “Min Yoongi admitting he’s wrong? I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”
Despite his attempt at brushing it off, I could tell the apology mattered to him. He wasn’t the type to say things he didn’t mean, and the effort behind his words wasn’t lost on me.
“Look,” he continued after a moment, his voice steadying. “Yesterday... I just have been under a lot of pressure, and I let it get to me. That wasn’t fair to you. You’ve been working hard, and I should’ve recognized that.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice softer now. “That means a lot.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between us melting away. As the meal went on, we started to relax, trading small talk about work and life. Yoongi even ordered a bottle of wine, and soon we were sipping glasses of it, the conversation growing lighter.
For the first time, it felt like I was seeing a different side of him, one that wasn’t guarded or buried in his work. And for a moment, it was easy to forget the weight of the studio, the deadlines, and everything else that had been hanging over us.
By the end of the night, my cheeks ached from laughing, a rare, warm contentment spreading through me. Yoongi had surprised me, not just with his apology, but with the way he let his guard down, even if just a little. Maybe he wasn’t as closed off as I’d assumed. Maybe there was more to him than I’d ever expected.
As we stepped outside the restaurant, the crisp night air greeted us.
"Hey, you can’t drive now since you’ve had a drink," I said, glancing at Yoongi. "Should we call a taxi or something? Or maybe Hobi? I saw his stories, he was bored at home, he could probably come pick us up."
Yoongi’s expression shifted, and he immediately shook his head. "No," he said, his voice firm. "I’ll handle it. I’m calling Jihoon."
I raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment but let it slide. The warmth from the alcohol in my system faded quickly, leaving me shivering slightly in the cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stave off the chill.
Yoongi noticed. “It’s getting cold,” he said, almost to himself. Before I could respond, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it around my shoulders.
The unexpected gesture made me pause. The weight of the jacket and the faint scent of his cologne caught me off guard. I looked up at him, my eyes wide. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” I said softly.
He waved it off. “It’s fine. I’m not cold.”
I tilted my head, sceptical. “Really? Your hands must be freezing,” I said, blowing warm air over my own hands and rubbing them together in a futile attempt to warm them.
Yoongi’s eyes flicked to my hands, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he reached out, wrapping his hands gently over mine. The sudden warmth of his touch stopped me in my tracks.
His hands were warm, enveloping mine completely. I glanced up at him, startled. He didn’t say anything, his gaze locked on mine, intense yet unreadable. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of us standing there, connected by something unspoken.
My breath hitched, the moment heavy with tension neither of us dared to break. But before it could go any further, the sound of a taxi pulling up snapped us back to reality.
“Jihoon’s here,” Yoongi said, his voice steady as he stepped back, letting my hands go.
I quickly pulled my hands behind my back, hiding the tingling warmth that lingered from his touch. Jihoon stepped out of the car, waving casually as he approached.
“Thanks for coming,” Yoongi said, handing him the keys to his car.
“No problem,” Jihoon replied with a grin. “You guys look like you had a good night.”
Yoongi nodded and gestured for me to get in the backseat. He opened the door for me, waiting until I was seated before climbing in beside me.
The ride was quiet, with Jihoon humming along to the radio in the front seat. I stared out the window, my thoughts swirling as I replayed the events of the night. The warmth of Yoongi’s jacket around my shoulders and the memory of his hands over mine lingered, leaving me more confused than ever.
Unable to resist, I flicked my gaze toward him. His profile was sharp in the dim light, the strong line of his jaw catching my attention. Why does he have to look like that? My eyes drifted downward, landing on his hands resting casually on his lap. Those veiny, capable hands that had so effortlessly wrapped around mine earlier.
My face grew warm as I recalled the moment, a rush of heat spreading through me. Embarrassed by my own thoughts, I quickly snapped my gaze back to the window, determined not to look at him again for the rest of the ride. ‘Focus on something else, anything else,’ I told myself, even as my heart stubbornly refused to settle.
When we pulled up in front of my place, Jihoon parked smoothly, and Yoongi stepped out of the car before I could say anything. He stood there for a moment, looking composed as ever, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
“Bye,” he said simply, his voice even but low enough to make my stomach flip. “See you tomorrow.”
I managed a small smile. “Okay. Bye.”
He watched me walk to my door, and when I turned back for a second, he was already getting back into the car. Jihoon gave a small wave before driving off, leaving me standing there, suddenly alone.
Once inside, I leaned against the door, the events of the evening replaying in my mind like a whirlwind. Dinner, the jacket, his hands over mine... It was all too much. I sighed, pulling the jacket off to hang it up, only to freeze mid-motion.
“Oh no.” My voice echoed in the quiet space. His jacket. I still had it.
I grabbed my phone, typing quickly.
Me: I just realized I still have your jacket. Did you guys leave already?
His reply came faster than I expected.
Yoongi: It’s fine. You can give it back another day.
I stared at the screen, his words making me bite my lip. For a moment, I debated responding, but what else was there to say? Sighing, I put my phone down and folded the jacket neatly. The faint scent of him lingered, a mix of something warm and clean, distinctly Yoongi.
I groaned softly, shaking my head. “Don’t overthink it.”
But as I walked away, I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror, my flushed cheeks betraying my effort to play it cool.
***
The next day, everything felt smoother. The tension from the past week seemed to have evaporated, leaving behind a productive atmosphere in the studio. Yoongi and I worked through the second track effortlessly, the beats and lyrics falling into place with surprising speed. By lunchtime, we had made significant progress, and the track was nearly perfect. Yoongi gave a brief nod of approval before leaning back in his chair.
"One more to go," he said, his tone casual, but I could tell he was feeling a sense of accomplishment too.
Just then, the door to the studio opened with a loud creak, and Hoseok walked in, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted us.
"Hey, look at you two," he said, his voice light. "I come in, and it’s all quiet. Something going on huh?"
Yoongi and I exchanged a glance. "The second track is done, so we're almost there. One more track, and the album’s done."
Hoseok leaned against the doorframe, his expression softening slightly. "Damn, it’s hard to believe we’re almost there." His eyes flickered toward Yoongi, then back at me. "I’m excited, but... also a little nervous. You know, with everything happening soon."
I raised an eyebrow, curious. "What’s going on? What are you talking about?"
Hoseok sighed dramatically, walking further into the room. "Well, since you two are now so close to wrapping up, I need to tell you something." He sat down on the edge of a nearby desk, his eyes locking on me. "I’m going to the military soon."
For a moment, there was silence as I processed the information. My stomach dropped slightly as the reality of it set in. "Wait, you’re leaving already?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could think.
Hoseok smiled gently, his eyes a little softer than usual. "Yeah. It’s going to happen soon. So..." He leaned forward, his tone turning playful but with an undercurrent of something more serious. "I’m going to use that to guilt-trip you two into hanging out with me tomorrow night. I’m hosting a little get-together at my place. Come along, since you’ve worked hard on this album, you deserve a break. You know you want to. Let’s have one last hurrah before I disappear for a while."
Yoongi, who had been silent until now, looked up with a raised eyebrow. "You really think you can just guilt-trip us into going out?"
Hoseok nodded with a sly grin. "Yup. It’s my last chance to make you guys hang out with me before I go. Please?" He looked at both of us, his expression softening, almost pleading.
Yoongi shot me a glance, and I shrugged. "I mean, we’re done with the second track, so it wouldn’t hurt to let loose for a night."
Yoongi looked hesitant for a moment, but Hoseok wasn’t backing down. "Come on, it’s just one night. You can relax and have some fun. Besides, you two need a break, right?"
I chuckled, the tension in the room starting to melt. "Alright, alright. I’ll come, Hoseok. You don’t need to keep trying to guilt-trip us." Yoongi also nodded.
Hoseok’s face lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Yes! That’s what I’m talking about. You won’t regret it. I’m inviting a few people, and we’ll just hang out, eat, talk, maybe play some games."
Yoongi grunted, but there was no denying the slight curve of a smile on his lips. "Fine. One night. But don’t expect us to get drunk or anything."
Hoseok laughed, shaking his head. "Who said anything about getting drunk? I just want to spend some time together, that’s all. We’re all so busy, and before you know it, I’ll be gone."
He was right. As much as we all had our own things to focus on, this was a moment to come together before everything changed. And honestly, after working so hard on the album, I could use a little time to relax.
"Alright, we’re in. What time should we be there?" I asked, already feeling a little more at ease about it.
"7 PM. Don’t be late," Hoseok said with a wink. "I’m going to make sure there’s food, so just come hungry."
"Okay," I agreed, nodding. "See you tomorrow, then."
As Hoseok left the studio, I glanced over at Yoongi, who was already back to his work. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite everything, the day had been productive, and now we were going to take some time for ourselves. I didn’t know how often I’d get moments like these, where things felt normal, light and easy.
"Guess we’re going to Hoseok’s," I said, trying to keep things casual.
Yoongi gave a small nod, his expression unreadable as always, but there was a faint sense of relaxation in his posture. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered again, almost as if to convince himself.
***
The next day, Yoongi and I had somehow hit a streak, two days in a row of working together without any tension. We finished everything we had planned for the day, and as the evening rolled around, we were both in a surprisingly good mood.
As the last song for the day played out, I looked up from my computer and caught Yoongi’s eye.
"Guess that’s a wrap for today," I said, stretching out my arms. "See you at the party, yeah?"
Yoongi gave me a small nod, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, see you there."
I stood up to grab my things, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. It had been a long time since we’d gotten along this well, and I wasn’t going to overthink it. Tonight was supposed to be fun, a chance to relax.
"Try not to get too drunk," I teased lightly as I started toward the door.
Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Could say the same thing to you.”
"Uh-huh," I shot back, laughing as I left the room. "Sure."
As I walked out, I could feel the lightness in my step. For once, it felt like things were moving in the right direction. The night ahead felt full of possibilities, even if it was just hanging out with the rest of the team.
When I got home, I quickly changed into something casual, not wanting to overdo it for Hoseok’s party. I kept it simple, a pair of jeans and a loose top. Around 7 PM, I made my way to Hoseok’s place, and when I arrived, I found the others already there.
The atmosphere was warm and relaxed, the smell of food filling the air. The place was buzzing with laughter and easy conversation. I caught sight of Yoongi sitting at the corner of the room, his usual calm demeanour in place, but there was something different about him tonight.
His hair was styled, and the black shirt he was wearing seemed to fit him just right, accentuating his broad shoulders. There was an easy confidence in his posture, and as I studied him for a moment, I realized he looked… hot.
I quickly averted my gaze, not wanting to get caught staring. The last thing I needed was to get all flustered over him again. I turned my attention to the rest of the room and spotted Hoseok in the middle of a conversation with a few other guests. He seemed to be doing his usual thing, laughing and talking animatedly, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to interrupt just yet.
Instead, I made my way over to where Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung were chatting near the food table. They were all mid-laugh when I approached, and Jungkook waved me over with a grin.
“Y/N! Come join us, we were just talking about the new choreography for a music video,” he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“Oh? What is it about this choreography?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Taehyung leaned in with a mischievous grin. “We’re learning this really complicated move that involves, like, spinning and flipping, but it looks ridiculous when we try it,” he said, laughing.
Jimin jumped in. “Taehyung’s over-exaggerating, it’s not that bad. But we’re definitely working on something new for the next video, and it’s going to be fun.”
“Yeah, we’re going to have to rehearse a lot,” Jungkook added with a playful smirk. “Taehyung might need extra practice though,” he teased.
I chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll all manage. You guys are pros, after all.”
Taehyung pouted but then grinned again. “Yeah, but you should see us try. We look like a bunch of drunk chickens. Maybe we’ll film it for behind-the-scenes footage.”
“Please do, I’d love to see that,” I replied, laughing along with them.
As we were talking, I noticed Hoseok making his way over with a big smile on his face. He clapped his hands together and announced, “Alright, everyone, I think it’s time for a drinking game! Who’s in? It’s going to be fun, I promise!”
Jimin immediately jumped up, grinning. “I’m in! Let’s do this!”
“Count me in too,” Taehyung said, raising his hand. “I’m ready to win this game.”
I glanced at Jungkook, who gave a playful nod. “Let’s go. This should be interesting.”
With that, the four of us headed over to the designated table where the drinks were already set up. Hoseok was already grinning, ready to start the game, and I couldn’t help but feel a little excited about just having fun and not overthinking things.
The game started with some light-hearted activities, rapid-fire questions, and silly tasks that made everyone laugh. It was a great way to break the ice, and before long, we were all feeling more relaxed, enjoying the playful atmosphere.
Then, the game shifted into something a bit more daring: Love Shots. The concept was simple: when the bottle spun, it landed on a couple who had to take a shot together. The catch? You had to show the best “couple moment” before drinking.
I glanced around at everyone as the bottle spun, my heart racing a little at the thought of it landing on someone I knew. Of course, it landed on me and Hoseok first. He flashed me a grin that was as mischievous as it was charming.
"Well, looks like we're the first couple for the night, huh?" he said, winking.
I laughed and leaned in slightly. "Guess so. Let’s make this quick, yeah?"
We took our shot in sync, laughing after, and I couldn’t help but notice the way Hoseok’s eyes sparkled when he was having fun. It made me a little giddy.
The game continued, and once again, the bottle spun, this time landing on Hoseok and me again. A few people around the table groaned, teasing us about being the “official couple.” We just grinned at each other, ready for the next round.
I quickly glanced over at Yoongi, who had been quiet all night, sitting at the table but not participating. He wasn’t drinking either. His gaze was locked on Hoseok and me, and there was a strange tension in his expression. He wasn’t judging, but he wasn’t engaging either. It was hard to ignore, and I wondered if he was actually bothered by us being partnered up for the game.
Earlier, I had briefly talked to him when the game first started. I asked why he wasn’t drinking, and he had simply said, “Not feeling like it tonight.” There was something about his tone that made me want to ask more, but I didn’t push it. He wasn’t the type to open up unless he was ready.
"Alright, Y/N, it’s your turn again!" Taehyung called out, snapping me out of my thoughts.
The bottle spun again, and this time, it landed on Hoseok and me again. We both burst into laughter, but this time I noticed Yoongi’s eyes briefly flicker towards us. He didn’t look away, but he didn’t speak either. He just observed, his hands folded in front of him as the game carried on.
Hoseok, being a bit more playful, shot me a grin and said, “Guess we’re really the perfect couple, huh?”
I smirked, playing along. “Yeah, looks like I’m stuck with you, Hobi.”
We drank again, and I could feel the warmth of the alcohol creeping through me, loosening my nerves and making everything feel lighter. But despite the fun, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Yoongi’s quiet presence at the table was adding a certain weight to the game. His lack of participation made the contrast between us even more noticeable.
The game finally came to an end after what felt like hours of spinning bottles and laughing until our sides hurt. But as the night wore on, a lot of people were either passed out, waiting for their turn, or feeling too sleepy to continue. I noticed the energy in the room starting to wind down, and with work to do tomorrow, I figured it was best to leave.
I stood up, scanning the room for Hoseok. I spotted him laughing with a few of the other guests, his eyes bright and full of energy despite the late hour. I made my way over to him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.
“Hey, Hobi,” I said, offering him a warm smile. “I think I’m going to head out now. I’ve got work tomorrow.”
Hoseok turned to me with a disappointed but understanding expression. “Aww, already? Well, it was really fun having you here. You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
I shook my head, grateful for the offer but knowing he had a lot of guests to attend to. “Nah, you stay and enjoy. I’ll just grab a taxi. I’ll be fine.”
Before Hoseok could respond, there was a shift in the air. Yoongi, who had been quiet all evening, stood up suddenly from his spot at the table. His voice was calm, but his words caught us both off guard.
“I’m leaving. I’ll take Y/N with me,” he said, tone firm but casual.
The room fell a bit quieter at his declaration. Hoseok blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Yoongi to step in. There was an unspoken tension as we all stood there for a moment, unsure of how to react.
I quickly turned to Hoseok, offering him one last smile. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Thanks for everything tonight.”
Hoseok smiled back, still a little surprised by Yoongi’s sudden intervention, but he nodded. “Alright, take care. See you soon.”
I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else before I quickly made my way toward the door, following Yoongi. I couldn’t help but feel a little flustered. What just happened? Why did Yoongi suddenly decide to take me home?
“Yoongi, wait up!” I called out, catching up to him as he made his way outside.
Yoongi was already ahead, his long strides purposeful. When I caught up with him, I hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Yoongi… you didn’t have to do this, you know…”
He didn’t look at me as he continued walking, but his voice was calm. “It’s fine. You’re not going to take a taxi alone this late. It’s safer this way.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but I stopped myself. There was something in the way he said it that made me not want to push back. Instead, I just followed him outside, the cool night air brushing against my skin as we made our way to the car.
I had no idea what this meant, or what was running through Yoongi’s mind, but for now, I was just grateful that he had decided to take me home.
The drive back home was quiet but comfortable, with only the hum of the car filling the space between us. It wasn’t awkward, though. There was something peaceful about it, something unspoken that made the silence feel easy.
When we arrived at my apartment block, Yoongi stepped out of the car first, walking around to open the door for me.
“Thanks,” I said softly, already preparing to say my goodbyes as I stepped out.
But before I could, Yoongi spoke up, his tone surprisingly serious. “Actually… Can I have my jacket back?”
I blinked in confusion, not entirely sure I’d heard him right. “Seriously?” I asked, laughing a little at the unexpected request. “You’re really asking for it back now?”
He glanced at me with a small shrug, his eyes hiding whatever thoughts were going through his mind. “It’s cold,” he said simply.
I let out a sigh. “Okay, follow me. I took it from the dry cleaners today, and I was planning on bringing it to you tomorrow.”
I stepped inside my apartment, Yoongi following and standing halfway between the living room and the corridor. I quickly scanned the room, searching for the bag with the jacket in it. The silence stretched on as I fumbled through a few things, but Yoongi broke it, his voice unexpectedly blunt.
“So, you and Hobi, huh?”
I paused for a second, confused by the sudden shift in the conversation. “What about me and Hobi?”
“Well, all the dinners, the flirting today with the love shots… is there anything I should know about?” His gaze was steady, but I could see something flicker in his eyes.
I shook my head, trying to keep my tone light. “No, we’re just friends. He’s actually a nice person who respects me and my work.”
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just me overthinking things, but Yoongi’s next words caught me off guard. “But I thought these past few days we were on good terms as well.”
I felt a little defensive at that. “But I’m not working with Hobi. I’m not under a contract with him.”
Yoongi didn’t seem satisfied. “Besides all that, I still felt like we could be more than just coworkers.”
I blinked, not sure if I understood him right. “What? Do you want us to be friends?” I joked, trying to deflect the tension.
Yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly, but I continued “Do you even hear yourself right now? If I had told Min Yoongi two months ago that he’d be asking me to be friends, he would’ve laughed in my face.”
Yoongi’s expression darkened for a moment. “Hell no, I don’t want to be friends with you.”
I crossed my arms, trying to hide the sudden heat rising to my cheeks. “Pff, then I don’t want to be friends with you either,” I shot back, scoffing. “Besides, you’re the one who brought it up in the first place. You were the one sulking about me being friends with Hobi and not with you.”
Yoongi’s eyes flickered with irritation. “I’m not sulking because you are friends with him, I am because you are close to a guy that’s not me.” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it.
“What?” I asked, genuinely confused.
Yoongi took a step closer, his expression darkening. “Let’s cut the crap. You’re telling me that after everything that’s been happening these past two months, the tension, the lingering touches… you never felt anything?” His eyes were locked onto mine, searching for something in them.
My breath hitched in my throat, but before I could respond, he continued. “And after what happened at Hobi’s birthday party… you didn’t move away from me. Hell, you were practically begging me to kiss you with the way you were looking at me. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it too.”
I froze, my mind racing, trying to process his words. I hadn’t expected him to bring up that night, let alone accuse me of anything. My pulse quickened as I searched his face, unsure of what to say.
Yoongi watched me closely, waiting for my response, but all I could do was stare at him, caught in the web of his words.
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, stepping back slightly, trying to play it cool, but my heart was pounding in my chest. Yoongi’s gaze was intense, his expression unreadable, and I couldn’t help but feel exposed under the weight of his words. Was he serious? Was I imagining all of this? I didn’t want to admit it, but everything he said was starting to make sense, whether I liked it or not.
Yoongi didn’t seem satisfied with my denial. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine with a new intensity. “Oh really?” he murmured, his voice low and steady, but there was a hint of something sharper in it now. “Then tell me to stop.”
Before I could process the situation, before I could even think about what to say, he was on me. His lips crashed into mine with a sudden force that caught me off guard. The kiss was hard, desperate, as if he was trying to prove something to both of us. His hands gripped my arms firmly, pulling me in closer.
For a few seconds, I froze, not sure how to respond. His lips moved against mine with an urgency that made my mind race, but my body just… didn’t react. I couldn’t. My heart was beating so fast, my thoughts tangled in confusion. Was this real? Was he really kissing me?
Yoongi pulled back suddenly, his hands dropping from my arms. He stepped away, his expression flickering with something I couldn’t quite place. His breathing was heavier now, and he seemed to be searching for something in my eyes, a sign, maybe, of whether or not I felt the same.
“I— maybe I misunderstood,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice quieter, as if the weight of his actions was suddenly dawning on him.
His words trailed off into a shaky breath, and for a moment, it felt like the room held its breath, everything hanging in the air between us. I stood there, wide-eyed, my lips tingling from the kiss, not knowing how to process what had just happened.
Yoongi’s eyes flicked to the ground for a second, and he muttered a curse under his breath. “Fuck…I’m sorry… I actually thought…” He cut himself off, looking at me like he was trying to gauge my reaction, like he was waiting for me to say something, anything.
The silence between us stretched on, thick and heavy, and I could feel my chest tightening with every passing second. I couldn’t let him walk away thinking he had made a mistake. I couldn’t just stand there and let this moment slip away.
Without even thinking, I stepped forward, my hands shaking slightly, but I reached for him. I grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him closer to me until there was no space left between us. My heart was still racing, but this time, there was no hesitation. I kissed him back, pressing my lips to his with the same urgency that he had given me.
Yoongi stiffened at first, but after a second, he responded, his hands coming up to cup my face as he kissed me back. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. His kiss was deep, full of everything he hadn’t said, all the things that had been building up between us. His lips moved against mine, his fingers threading into my hair as he pulled me closer, if that was even possible.
I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the way his heart seemed to be racing just as fast as mine. The world outside of us faded, and for the first time in a long time, all I could think about was him, Yoongi, and this moment we were sharing.
When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, I was left reeling. My mind was spinning, but there was something in the way Yoongi looked at me, something that made it all feel right, even if it didn’t quite make sense yet.
I took a step back, trying to catch my breath, still processing everything that had just happened. "What’s happening?" I asked softly, my voice a little unsteady. "Are you sure tomorrow you're not just going to act like none of this happened?"
Yoongi didn’t say anything right away. He seemed to be weighing my words carefully, like he was searching for the right response.
Then, he took a slow step forward, closing the distance between us once more. His eyes were intense, but there was a softness in them now, something that made me feel like I wasn’t just some passing thought. "Nah," Yoongi finally spoke, his voice low and steady. "Let me show you how much I've been stopping myself from anything happening."
Before I could process his words, his hands were on me again, pulling me back toward him with an urgency that caught me off guard. He kissed me again, this time it wasn’t rushed, but full of something more than just desire.
Yoongi’s hands were gentle yet firm as he backed me toward the living room, the heat of his body practically radiating against mine. I could feel my pulse quicken with every step he took. When my backside finally met the armrest of the sofa, a shock of electricity shot through me, my heart hammering in my chest.
He didn’t give me a moment to breathe before his hands were on me again, this time lifting me effortlessly, laying me down onto the sofa. I gasped slightly as I landed, and Yoongi followed, his body pressing over mine, his presence suffocating in the best way.
His eyes never left mine, and the way he hovered above me, his weight just barely touching me, made my stomach twist with anticipation. "Are you gonna tell me to stop, Y/N?" Yoongi's voice was rough, but there was something almost challenging in it. He leaned in slightly, the tip of his nose grazing mine as he waited for my response. "Or are you actually gonna admit how much you want this? That this is actually happening."
I swallowed hard, my mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. I was caught between every instinct screaming at me to push him away, to stop this before it went any further, and another side of me that wanted to give in, to feel everything he was offering without hesitation.
His lips hovered just inches from mine, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, making my heart race. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I just looked at him, trying to understand what this all meant.
The silence between us was almost suffocating now, the tension thick as I weighed my next move. Yoongi didn’t pull away, didn’t pressure me further. He just waited, giving me space, but still holding me in place with that unyielding gaze of his.
For a moment, I thought I might choke on the words I wanted to say. But the truth was, I already knew. I couldn’t deny it anymore.
"I—" My voice faltered, and I quickly cleared my throat, suddenly feeling exposed. "I want this," I admitted, the words coming out breathlessly, almost as if they were ripped from me. It was scary, letting the truth hang in the air between us, but it felt... necessary.
Yoongi’s eyes softened, just a little. He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine once more, but this time, it wasn’t a question. It was an answer, his answer to everything we had left unsaid.
Despite the clothes still between us, I wrapped my legs around his body, pulling him closer, craving more of the intimacy building between us. Yoongi’s voice was low and dripping with desire as he whispered, “Good, because I’ve been dying to know how you taste…”
Smirking, he lowered himself further, letting his breath ghost over my pants. My heart raced as I gave him a silent nod, granting permission. Slowly, he unzipped them, his movements deliberate and teasing. My breath hitched as he slid my pants down my legs, throwing them on the floor. Just as he hooked a finger under my panties to remove them, I gently stopped his hand.
“Wait…” I whispered, my voice shaky. Gathering what little confidence I had, I added, “It’s only fair you lose a piece of clothing too.”
His eyebrow quirked up in amusement. “Desperate to see me naked already, Y/N?” he teased.
“Huh, you’re the one who just claimed you’ve been dying to know how I—”
Before I could finish, Yoongi silenced me with a kiss, his lips rough and insistent, leaving me breathless. His tongue swept against mine, teeth grazing in just the right way. When he finally pulled back to let us catch our breath, he reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. Smirking, he stood before me, his torso now bare, revealing his defined muscles despite the soft lines of his body.
“There. Happy now?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.
This man. Such a tease.
“Much better,” I quipped with a smirk of my own.
“Now, let me finish what I started,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. “Let you experience my famous tongue technology...…” His lips quirked into a mischievous smile as he lowered himself between my thighs, his hands trailing down to hook under the waistband of my panties. He slipped them down with tantalizing slowness, his fingers brushing against my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“Who calls—” I started, but the words dissolved into a gasp as his tongue made its first bold stroke, fast and deliberate, over my folds. My head fell back against the sofa, a moan escaping before I could even think to stop it.
He didn’t give me time to recover. His tongue moved again, sweeping over me with precision, eliciting another sharp cry. Each stroke was firm, purposeful, and maddeningly good. My body arched into him, instinctively chasing the pleasure he so expertly provided.
“Yoongi,” I managed to whisper, my voice shaky and strained, but he didn’t respond, not with words at least. Instead, his lips and tongue continued their relentless exploration, the wet heat of his mouth driving me to the edge of reason.
My hands shot to his hair, my fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling lightly, not to guide him, but to ground myself. His name fell from my lips in fragmented pleas, each one blending into the next. His low hum of approval vibrated against me, sending an electric shock straight to my core.
He reached for one of my knees, pushing it further aside to open me up to him completely. His grip was firm yet gentle, and the shift only deepened the intensity of his attention. His tongue flicked, swirled, and teased, hitting every spot that made my body tremble.
The room was thick with the sound of my ragged breathing and unrestrained moans. Each cry seemed to fuel him, urging him on as his pace quickened. I gripped his hair tighter, the sensation building with every stroke. A hand reached for his shoulder, my nails grazing the smooth heat of his skin.
“Yoongi…” I whimpered, my voice shaky and raw, a desperate plea in the form of his name.
He pulled back briefly, his lips glistening as he looked up at me with a devilish smirk. “That was to answer your question,” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. He ran his tongue slowly over his lips, collecting anything he’d missed, and the sight alone sent another wave of heat through me.
I couldn’t let him have the upper hand, not entirely. Tugging at his hair, I directed him back between my thighs. “Less talking,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, “more doing.”
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating against me as he dove back in without hesitation. This time, his movements were even more determined, his tongue working with an intensity that made me cry out. My body writhed against him, my breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps as I clung to him, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through me.
Yoongi’s hands gripped my thighs firmly, keeping me in place as he worked his magic. His tongue alternated between long, teasing strokes and quick, precise flicks, sending me spiraling closer to the edge.
He was relentless, unyielding, and devastatingly good. Too good. If he could do this with just his tongue, the thought of what else he could do made my head spin. The heat pooling low in my belly grew hotter, tighter, until it felt like I might combust.
“Yoongi,” I gasped, my voice breaking as my body tensed beneath his touch. “I think I’m gonna—”
“Cum on my mouth, baby,” he murmured against me, his voice low and commanding, the vibrations sending me over the edge.
I shattered, my release hitting me like a tidal wave. My back arched, my head falling back as his name tore from my lips in a broken cry. My vision blurred, and for a moment, all I could feel was the overwhelming heat of pleasure washing over me.
He didn’t stop, his tongue continuing to lap at me, drawing out every last tremor until I was trembling beneath him. When he finally pulled back, his face was smug, his lips glistening as he swiped his tongue over them again.
“You taste better than I imagined,” he murmured, and my cheeks flushed at his confession. How many times had this man fantasized about this? It wasn’t like I hadn’t entertained some dirty thoughts over the past weeks, but hearing him say it out loud, so unabashedly, felt different.
Before I could reply, Yoongi leaned back up and kissed me passionately, sharing the taste of myself on his lips. The kiss was deep and consuming, his tongue sweeping over mine with deliberate slowness. Then he trailed wet kisses down to my neck, biting softly, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make a point. It was possessive in the most exciting way.
As he toyed with the hem of my shirt, I decided to turn the tables. My hands moved to the waistband of his pants undoing his zipper. He froze for a moment, his eyes wide, searching mine. “Y/N… you don’t have to. Just because—”
“I want to,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest. His breath escaped in a shaky exhale at my words.
“Besides,” I teased, leaning in closer, my lips brushing against his ear, “let me show you what other sounds these hands can produce.”
I bit my bottom lip as I pulled his pants down completely, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. My hand brushed over him, his length already hard and straining against the fabric. My fingers lightly grazed over him, stroking just enough to tease. Yoongi hissed, a mix of pleasure and frustration.
“Y/N… don’t tease me,” he groaned, his voice thick with need.
“Me? Tease you?” I feigned innocence, grinning up at him as my hand continued its slow, deliberate motions. He let out a shaky breath, his hips instinctively bucking toward my touch.
I leaned up to capture his lips again, all while my hand maintained its slow, torturous rhythm. “Y/N…” Yoongi moaned, the sound low and drawn out.
With that, I tugged his boxers down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. My hand wrapped around him, the heat and hardness startling me for a moment. Pre-cum was already dripping from his tip, and I swiped my thumb over it, spreading it along his length as he trembled beneath my touch.
His hips instinctively bucked forward, chasing the friction as a low groan escaped his lips. My fingers moved deliberately, starting with slow, measured strokes that made his thighs tense beneath me.
“Y/N…” His voice was barely above a whisper, a strained mixture of need and restraint.
I leaned forward, brushing a kiss along his jawline before murmuring, “Relax.” My breath was hot against his skin, and I could feel the shudder it sent through his body.
One hand worked up and down his length, my palm twisting slightly with each stroke, while the other cupped and teased his balls, massaging them gently. His body responded to every touch, his muscles taut and trembling as he fought to stay in control.
“Fuck…” he groaned, his brows furrowed, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his chest heaved with uneven breaths.
The intimacy of it all had my own heart racing, my body reacting to the sight of him unraveling beneath me. My hand picked up speed, stroking him faster and firmer, my thumb gliding over his sensitive tip with each pass.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, his voice rough and breathless.
“Good,” I teased, leaning in to kiss his collarbone, my lips trailing over the sharp lines of his neck. “That’s the idea.”
His hips lifted again, chasing the rhythm of my hand. His groans deepened, each one more desperate than the last. The sounds he made were intoxicating, sending heat pooling low in my belly.
“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice cracking slightly. One of his hands reached out, gripping my thigh tightly as though he needed something to anchor himself.
Yoongi eyes fluttered open, locking onto mine with a fiery intensity. “I’m—”
“I know,” I cut him off softly, my hand never slowing.
His half-lidded eyes met mine, his skin glistening with sweat. “Where…?” he managed to ask, his voice barely audible.
I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I went to my knees and opened my mouth, holding his gaze. His expression faltered for a split second, a mix of desperation and awe flashing across his face.
Yoongi adjusted slightly, taking his cock in his own hand, his body hovering over mine, and with a few more strokes, he spilled into my mouth. I took everything, swallowing it down as I maintained eye contact. His breathing was ragged, and I could feel the slight tremble in his legs as I kissed the tip of his cock, making sure nothing was left behind.
When it was over, he sank down, his body pressing against mine. His lips found mine again, kissing me deeply, as if he couldn’t get enough.
When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against my shoulder, his voice soft but filled with satisfaction. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”
Yoongi’s hand trailed lazily across my skin, finding the thin strap of my bra under my shirt. “Next time,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “I’ll make sure you’re not wearing anything at all.”
He hooked a finger under the strap, pulling it slightly before letting it snap back against my skin with a soft smack. I gasped, half-laughing, and swatted at his chest, but he just grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
With a satisfied sigh, he stood up, stretching slightly before scanning the room. His pants and boxers lay crumpled on the floor a few steps away. “As much as I love this view,” he teased, casting a lingering look at me sprawled on the sofa now, “we might want to at least partially dress before someone accidentally walks in.”
Rolling my eyes, even though I lived alone, I reached down to grab my panties, slipping them on with a quick movement. “Happy now?” I quipped, arching an eyebrow as he smirked at me.
“Not entirely,” he shot back smoothly, already heading to the smaller sofa across the room. He grabbed the folded blanket and returned to the larger couch where I laid, tossing it over us as he sat back down and pulled me toward him.
“And why is that?” I teased, arching a brow as I snuggled into his chest.
He smirked, his arms wrapping securely around me as he scooped me into a comfortable position against him. His warmth enveloped me, and I felt myself relaxing despite my teasing words.
“Because, I’ve been messing up so far,” he said, his voice soft but firm, “ but I’m not letting you go away this time.”
I blinked, startled by the quiet sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t just a playful remark; it felt like a promise, one that made my heart flutter and my chest tighten all at once.
“You’re stuck with me now, Y/N,” he added, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Hope you can handle that.”
I couldn’t help but smile, burying my face against his chest to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “We’ll see,” I replied softly, my voice muffled away.
For the first time in a long while, I felt safe. Wrapped in his arms, I allowed myself to close my eyes, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.
***
The next morning, I woke up to an unsettling emptiness. The warmth of Yoongi’s embrace from last night was gone, replaced by the coolness of the sofa beneath me. Disoriented, I blinked against the soft morning light streaming through the curtains. Everything about last night had felt surreal—like the universe had finally shifted into place. But now, as I sat up and looked around the room, it all felt like a dream.
My gaze darted to the floor, where his shirt had been tossed haphazardly, and the hallway where his shoes had been kicked off. They were gone. Every trace of him had vanished. A sinking feeling settled in my chest.
Did he regret this? Was it a mistake for him?
I couldn’t stop the questions from flooding my mind, each one louder and more insistent than the last. For me, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not even close. Last night had been a moment of pure, unfiltered connection, a night that felt like it had shattered every barrier between us.
But had it meant the same to him?
Frustration began to bubble up, mixed with a touch of anger. If he had regrets, he should’ve said something. Leaving like this? That was low.
Determined not to let him get away with it, I marched to my room, pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and a casual shirt. If he thought he could disappear without a word, he had another thing coming. The moment I was tugging on my shoes, ready to storm out and demand answers, my phone buzzed on the coffee table.
I snatched it up, my frustration spilling over as I saw Minji’s name on the screen. Great, this better not be about work, I thought as I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I said curtly.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Minji’s tone was brisk but edged with concern.
“What do you mean?” I asked, more annoyed than curious.
Minji sighed heavily on the other end. “That’s good. You’re fine. I was worried for a second. Didn’t you hear? Someone raided HYBE last night. A crazy fan broke in and they believe they were trying to expose Suga’s album.”
“What?” I froze, my heart skipping a beat as her words sank in.
“Yeah, it’s all over the news this morning. Security’s gone into overdrive,” Minji continued. “Anyway, just wanted to check if you were caught up in any of it.”
“I have to go,” I said abruptly, hanging up before she could respond.
My mind raced. If HYBE had been raided and rumours about Yoongi’s album were true, then that meant he must be there.
I grabbed my car keys and drove as fast as I could, keeping just within the speed limits. My mind buzzed with thoughts about Yoongi and everything Minji had said. Twenty minutes later, I pulled up in front of HYBE.
I stepped inside, my pulse quickening as I made my way through the familiar halls. When I reached the studio, I stopped in my tracks. Yoongi was pacing back and forth, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. He hadn’t noticed me yet, too absorbed in his conversation.
“Please make sure they’re caught and thoroughly questioned about what they saw,” he said, his tone firm but composed. Whoever he was speaking to replied, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know we had contracts here. Honestly, I don’t care about the album, it’s going to get released soon anyway. What matters is that Producer K’s information stays protected. Make sure no sensitive details leak, okay?” He paused to listen again. “Alright. Call me as soon as you have any updates.”
As he ended the call, his gaze finally landed on me. I was frozen in place, trying to process the past 24 hours, the intimacy, the sudden emptiness when I woke up, and now this chaos.
“Hey,” I said, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?”
Yoongi’s expression softened when he saw me, but the stress in his posture remained. He sighed and motioned for me to sit down, but I stayed standing, waiting for answers.
“Someone broke into HYBE last night,” he began, his voice steady but laced with frustration. “They managed to get into a secure area. Luckily, nothing was taken, at least nothing physical, but there’s still a risk of leaks.”
I blinked, processing his words. “So… this morning—”
He cut me off with a sheepish smile. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve woken you up, but you looked so peaceful, and I didn’t want to disturb you. When I got the call, I panicked. I didn’t even think, I just grabbed my stuff and rushed over here. I had to make sure everything was locked down. The NDAs, your information, everything. But I think we’re okay. Nothing seems to have been compromised.”
My chest loosened at his explanation, relief washing over me. “So… you didn’t leave because you regretted it?” My voice came out quieter than I intended. “It felt like… maybe you didn’t care about anything that happened yesterday.”
Yoongi’s eyes widened, and he stepped closer to me, closing the distance between us in just a few strides. “Ahh, baby,” he said, his tone filled with disbelief. “Are you kidding me? How could I ever regret it?”
He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, soft and lingering. The kiss was brief, but the warmth of it stayed with me. As he pulled back, he smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. Without another word, he scooped me up effortlessly, his hands firm on my thighs as he lifted me.
“Yoongi!” I squealed, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck.
“You’re stuck with me now,” he teased, his smirk deepening as he carried me toward the door. My back pressed against it as he gently pushed me, one of his hands leaving my body just long enough to twist the lock. The soft click echoed in the quiet room. His eyes flickered with something darker, more intense, as he leaned in closer.
“And don’t even think about doubting me again,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
Before I could respond, Yoongi moved us again, carrying me to the producer’s table, the one we’d spent countless hours working on together. He placed me on top of it, the cold surface pressing against my thighs. My body shifted slightly, the edge of the keyboard beneath me accidentally activating a few buttons with soft clicks and beeps.
A mischievous smirk spread across his face as he leaned over me, caging me in with his arms on either side. “Looks like we’re making more music, Producer K,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.
Immediately his lips captured mine, soft and demanding all at once. The kiss deepened almost instantly, his hand threading into my hair to tilt my head for better access. I gasped against his mouth as his other hand slid down, gripping my waist firmly to keep me anchored to him.
The kiss was electric, slow, and yet so full of intensity it left me breathless. His tongue brushed against mine, coaxing me into a rhythm that made my heart race. My hands found their way to his shoulders, then slid up behind his neck, pulling him even closer.
Yoongi let out a low hum of approval, the sound vibrating against my lips. The tension in the room grew thicker with every passing second. His teeth grazed my bottom lip, tugging gently before he soothed it with another kiss.
“You taste soo good,” he whispered against my mouth, his breath warm and tantalizing. He kissed me again, harder this time, as though he was trying to erase any lingering doubts from my mind.
“Are you going to fuck me or not?” I asked, my voice laced with impatience and desire. Enough with the teasing, I wanted him, here and now.
A smirk played on his lips as he looked at me. “Yes, right here on this table,” he murmured, his voice deep and full of promise. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”
Slowly he reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. His dark eyes lingered on me as he kept his promise from the night before. He leaned down, gently biting one of my bra straps and pulling it down with his teeth, the act equal parts sensual and possessive. Then his hand slid the other strap off my shoulder, his fingers brushing over my skin in a way that sent shivers racing down my spine.
His hands unclasped my bra, letting it fall away completely. The cool air of the room ghosted over my now-bare skin, goosebumps forming in its wake. His gaze was hungry, appreciative, as he took me in.
He didn’t waste a moment, cupping both of my breasts in his warm hands. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, teasing them until they hardened under his touch. Leaning in, he wrapped his lips around one, his tongue swirling and flicking while his other hand kneaded the other.
A soft moan escaped my lips as my hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. My legs around his waist instinctively pull his body closer and flush against mine. The hardness of his arousal pressed against my clothed core, teasing me further.
Yoongi groaned softly against my skin, his breath hot as he alternated between kissing and sucking on my sensitive flesh. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, his lips glistening as he grinned down at me.
“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. He stood upright and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion.
The sight of his toned chest and the way his muscles moved as he tossed the shirt aside made my breath hitch. My hands instinctively trailed over his bare skin, feeling the heat of him beneath my palms.
He proceeded to slide my pants down along with my panties in one smooth motion, leaving me bare beneath him. My cheeks flushed as I turned my head to the side, shying away from his gaze. The reality of the moment hit me, this was happening, in the studio no less. Something I had never done before, especially not with a co-worker. I had always been professional, keeping clear boundaries. But Yoongi? He was different. He was so much more.
Before my thoughts could spiral further, two of his fingers gently grasped my chin, tilting my face back toward him. His dark eyes softened as they met mine, a faint smile curling his lips. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine adoration.
He leaned down and kissed me deeply, his lips moving against mine with a passion that made me forget all my worries. When he pulled away, I was left breathless, my body trembling.
Without breaking eye contact, he stepped back and slid his boxers down, his cock springing free in a way that had my stomach tightening with need. He reached into a nearby drawer, pulling out a condom. The sight of him, so confident and focused, made my mouth water.
I whimpered softly, my body arching toward him. “Please…” I whispered, my voice trembling with desperation.
Yoongi smirked at my plea as he rolled the condom over his length slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. He moved closer, his cock teasing my entrance as he pressed the tip against me, applying just enough pressure to drive me wild.
Then he pulled back, a devilish grin on his lips.
“Yoongi!” I cried out, my hands gripping his shoulders in frustration.
Yoongi chuckled softly at my frustration, his deep voice resonating in the quiet studio. “Patience, baby,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I want to savour this.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, but my body was anything but patient. My legs tightened around his hips, trying to draw him closer. He gave in just a little, letting his tip press further against my entrance, his cock teasing me.
“Please…” I whimpered again, my voice trembling.
“God, you’re so needy,” he murmured, but there was no mockery in his tone, only a mixture of desire and affection. He pressed forward slightly, just enough to stretch me, and the sensation made my breath hitch.
He paused, his hand brushing over my cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his gaze searching mine.
“Yes,” I breathed, nodding. “I need you, Yoongi… all of you.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly, he pushed into me, his cock filling me inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming in the best way, an exquisite mix of pleasure and pressure that made me gasp. My nails dug into his shoulders as he slid himself fully inside me, both of us pausing to catch our breaths.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, his head dropping to my shoulder. His lips brushed against my skin, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses as he began to move.
The first few thrusts were slow and deliberate, his hips rolling against mine in a rhythm that made me lose all sense of time and place. My moans filled the room, blending with the soft sounds of his breathless grunts and the quiet creak of the table beneath us.
“Yoongi…” I gasped, my hands sliding down to his waist to pull him closer. His movements grew more intense, each thrust hitting deeper, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.
His hand slid down to my thigh, lifting it higher to change the angle, and the new position made me cry out. “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.”
I clung to him, my body arching into his as the tension built to an unbearable peak. Every movement, every touch, was driving me closer to the edge. His name fell from my lips in a breathless chant, and I could feel his body tensing too, his control slipping with each passing second.
“I’m close,” I managed to gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pressed my forehead against his.
“Not so fast…” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. In one swift motion, he pulled out completely, leaving me trembling and desperate for more. He grabbed my hips, pulling me down and guiding me to turn around. His hand on my back guided me to lean forward, making my chest press against the cool surface of the studio desk. I tried to make myself stable, hands roaming over the desk for support when I accidentally hit a button on the keyboard that sounded like the recording audio one.
“Yoongi, I think I—”
“Leave it on,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust. His hands ran down my sides, gripping my hips firmly as he aligned himself behind me. Without another word, he thrust into me again, harder this time, making me cry out in surprise and pleasure.
The new angle was overwhelming, his movements fast and relentless, each thrust sending shockwaves through my body. My hands scrambled for something better to hold on to, finding the edge of the desk as I felt my climax building faster than ever before.
“Yoongi,” I moaned, my voice trembling. “I’m going to—”
“Me too,” he groaned, his pace quickening. His fingers tightened on my hips, pulling me back to meet every thrust.
The tension inside me snapped like a rubber band, and I shattered around him, a cry escaping my lips as waves of pleasure consumed me. His name fell from my lips in broken gasps, my body trembling with the force of my release.
“Fuck,” Yoongi hissed behind me, his movements growing erratic as he followed me over the edge. With a low groan, he stilled, his hands gripping me tightly as he emptied himself into the condom.
We stayed silent for a moment, both of us catching our breaths as the studio filled with the sound of our laboured breathing. Yoongi’s hand slid up my back, his touch gentle now as he leaned down to press a soft kiss between my shoulders.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice softer than before, filled with a mix of affection and satisfaction.
I turned my head slightly to glance at him, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the lingering haze of pleasure. “You’re pretty perfect yourself,” I replied breathlessly.
His lips quirked into a smirk as he helped me straighten up, his hands still lingering on my waist. “You keep driving me crazy when there’s work to be done,” he said, his voice still low, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Work?” I teased, arching an eyebrow.
We both laughed softly, the tension replaced by a comfortable warmth as we started dressing up together. After fixing ourselves up, Yoongi and I sat back at the desk, quietly adjusting to the shift from intimacy to professionalism.
A sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. My eyes widened as I glanced at the screen. The red "REC" light was still blinking, the audio still rolling.
"Wait," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but my heart was racing. "Yoongi... the recording…"
Yoongi's gaze followed mine to the screen.
I stifled a laugh, trying to process the situation. "We... we didn’t just—"
"We did," he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he reached for the mouse, clicking the stop button on the recording. The sudden silence felt almost louder than the chaos that had just unfolded.
There was a long pause before either of us spoke, and then Yoongi burst into a fit of laughter, the tension completely evaporating. "I can't believe you hit the record by accident," he said between chuckles, shaking his head. "That’s... that's going to be something to remember."
I shook my head, laughing despite the embarrassment that was slowly creeping in. "Oh my god, I didn’t mean to! What if—what if someone listens to that? You have to delete it…"
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, still chuckling. "Relax, I’m pretty sure the only one who’s ever going to hear that is you... and maybe me, when I’m in need of some... inspiration."
I shot him a mock glare. "You’re terrible."
But the laughter between us continued, as if we’d both just acknowledged the absurdity of it all. "Alright, alright," I said, regaining some composure. "So, do we actually erase it... or keep it as a very private memory?"
Yoongi eyed the screen for a moment, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think we keep it," he said with a smirk. "Just in case we ever need to prove who’s really in charge around here."
I raised an eyebrow, a challenge in my smile. "I still have to work with you..."
Yoongi leaned closer, his smirk widening. "We can always record something else to balance it out."
My face flushed again, but this time, it was the shared humour that made the tension feel lighter. The teasing, the jokes, the way we were able to slip back into this comfortable space of banter, it made the moment feel normal again.
***
As time passed, Yoongi and I quietly navigated our secret relationship, keeping things low-key while indulging in countless late-night dates after work. Between stolen moments in the studio, quick getaways to his place, and intimate sessions that blurred the line between work and personal time, we found our rhythm. Every touch, every kiss, every fleeting glance became a quiet promise, a bond that only grew stronger despite the secrecy. The sexual tension between us was undeniable, and we gave into it time and time again, the boundaries between us disappearing with every heated exchange.
April 17 arrived, and Yoongi and I were standing in J-Hope’s living room. It was a quiet evening before the storm of emotions that would come the next day, J-Hope was leaving for the military, and Yoongi was going to see him off tomorrow. As much as I wanted to be there for the farewell, I knew I couldn’t. Not yet. My identity had to still stay hidden, my relationship with Yoongi too, at least for now.
Yoongi caught my eye from across the room, a soft smile playing at his lips as he walked over to where I was standing by the window. "You okay?" he asked quietly, concern flickering in his gaze.
I forced a smile, trying to hide the tension I felt. "Yeah, just thinking about tomorrow," I said, glancing over at J-Hope, who was still chatting with some of the others in the room. "You’re going to see him off right?"
"Of course," Yoongi replied, his voice warm but heavy with the realization that things were changing. "He’s my brother. I’m not going to let him go without saying goodbye properly."
I nodded, feeling a pang of longing. "I wish I could be there, but... you know why I can’t."
"I know," Yoongi murmured, squeezing my hand. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "It’s just... it’s tough for both of us, huh?"
I nodded again, my chest tight. "Yeah. It’s not just about J-Hope going. It’s about the secrecy, the not being able to show anyone who we are... it gets exhausting."
Before Yoongi could respond, J-Hope called out from across the room, his voice teasing. "Yoongi, Y/N! You two are awfully quiet over there. What’s going on?"
I looked up and forced a grin, trying to act casual. "Nothing, just—"
J-Hope walked over with a playful glint in his eyes, crossed his arms. "You know, I’ve always seen the tension between you two," he said with a teasing smirk. "That’s why I kept pushing Y/N to hang out with me when Yoongi was around. I had to give him a little nudge."
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by J-Hope’s words. "Really? You were the one pushing her?"
I laughed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Well, it worked, didn’t it?"
J-Hope chuckled, but his smile softened as he looked between the two of us. "I get it now. You two are like an open secret. But listen," he continued, his tone more serious, "tomorrow, when I’m gone, make sure you both take care of yourselves. Yoongi, I know you’ll look after her. And Y/N, be good to him, alright?"
I nodded, the words heavy in my chest. "I will. You just... you just be safe, okay? Come back to us soon."
Yoongi echoed my sentiment, his voice steady and sincere. "Take care of yourself, man. We’ve got your back. Always."
J-Hope smiled at us both, his eyes a mixture of gratitude and affection. "I know. Thanks, guys. I’ll miss you both."
***
The next day, after Yoongi returned from seeing J-Hope off, we somehow managed to finish the last track just before the deadline. It felt like a weight lifted off our shoulders. The album, which had been months in the making, was finally ready, set to release on April 21st with nine tracks. It was a huge achievement, and that night, we celebrated in typical Yoongi fashion, with whiskey at his place, and, well, sex. The kind of passionate, no-holds-barred kind that made me forget about the stress of the last few months.
The following days leading up to the album release were a whirlwind. We couldn't spend much time together, since Yoongi had a full schedule of promotional activities. Meanwhile, I was at home, taking the rare opportunity to relax and mentally prepare for the next project Minji had set up for me. Life was moving quickly, and I knew the grind would start again soon.
That night, as I was settling into my evening routine, my phone buzzed with a notification. Yoongi's live stream was about to start. He had mentioned earlier that his company would have him livestream his full album for his fans to celebrate the release. I was excited, though admittedly a little nervous to hear how the tracks we worked on together sounded to the public.
I clicked on the stream and watched as Yoongi greeted his fans, his usual cool demeanor giving way to the warmth of being surrounded by people who admired his work. I listened closely as he played the first six songs, the ones he had worked on solo. Each track was a piece of his soul, his sound so distinct and raw. Then came the three songs we collaborated on, and I couldn’t help but smile. Hearing them in front of thousands of fans was surreal, but in a way, it felt like we were still connected. Every note, every lyric felt like a reflection of the quiet moments we shared, the time we spent creating together.
As the ninth track played, I expected the stream to wrap up, but then Yoongi’s voice came through again. It was softer this time, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should say the words that were coming.
“This last song is a very last-minute addition to the album,” he began, his tone low and a little more introspective. “Making this album have a total of 10 tracks. I felt like this album was missing something... and this track summarizes everything that’s been going on with me lately. It’s called SDL.”
I froze, heart pounding in my chest. I hadn’t known about this last-minute addition to the album. I thought everything had been finalized. But here he was, introducing a track that was somehow more personal than any of the others. My stomach tightened as the beat dropped, and the chorus rang out:
"Yeah, somebody does love
But I'm thinking 'bout you."
The lyrics hit me like a wave, each word carrying a weight that I couldn’t ignore. It felt so raw, so vulnerable. Before I could process it all, I grabbed my stuff and rushed out the door. I knew Yoongi would still be at HYBE, where the livestream was taking place. Without thinking twice, I jumped into my car, determined to get there. The song had caught me completely off guard, and I needed to see him. I needed to understand what this song really meant.
It wasn’t just a track—it was a message. A message that had left me reeling, and I wasn’t going to wait to figure it out.
I arrived at HYBE, my heart still racing from the drive. As I stepped out, I caught sight of Jihoon leaving the building, and without thinking, I called out to him.
"Is Yoongi still here?"
"Yeah, last time I saw him, it was just a few minutes ago at the studio," Jihoon replied casually.
I didn't even say goodbye as I ran inside toward the studio, my mind set on finding Yoongi. When I reached the door and pushed it open, I could tell it wasn’t the same as the first time we met, where his eyes had been skeptical and full of surprise. This time, when our eyes met, I saw something completely different, softness, warmth, and love.
I closed the door behind me and moved closer to him, my breath still catching up from the run.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Yoongi asked, his voice laced with concern. He came to me, his hands instinctively reaching up to fix my hair, his touch gentle as he noticed my flustered state.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "That last song, I saw your live... where did that come from? I thought the album had only 9 tracks."
Yoongi paused, his hands lingering in my hair as he gave me a soft smile. "As I said on the live, that song is what’s been going on in my head these past couple of months."
I raised an eyebrow, still trying to piece it together. "So, you mean to tell me... I’m your inspiration?"
He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yes. You know I’m not great with my feelings, and better than anyone, you understand how hard it is for me to express myself. With everything that’s been going on between us lately… I thought this would be the clearest way to show you how I feel, the way we know best: through music."
“Why didn’t you play it for me before? In private?” I asked, my voice soft but laced with curiosity.
“I wanted it to be a surprise, like a big romantic gesture that only we would recognize,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. “I felt like I needed to redeem myself for how I acted at the start. To be honest, we were so good together that I’m sure we could’ve finished those tracks in less than a month. But I kept being a jerk, nit-picking everything just so we’d have to restart. It was selfish, but I wanted to steal every last minute with you. You walked into this studio and captured my heart and soul with everything you are, and I wasn’t ready to let that go so easily.”
His words hit me with full force, my heart pounding in my chest as the weight of his confession settled. I stepped closer, my emotions bubbling to the surface, and before I could think or say anything more, my lips found Yoongi’s. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if I were trying to tell him everything I couldn’t put into words. It was a kiss full of everything: love, apology, understanding, and a promise for more. We didn’t need more words, just the closeness, the music, and the quiet understanding between us. The kiss deepened, and in that moment, we both knew: this was just the beginning.
Summary: Y/N and Namjoon enter into a mutual agreement to fake date, with Y/N aiming to catch Jimin's attention and Namjoon hoping to win back his ex. What starts as a carefully crafted plan to fool everyone around them slowly begins to unravel as real emotions creep in. With every stolen glance, shared laugh, and moment of vulnerability, they find themselves questioning the boundaries they've set. When pretending becomes indistinguishable from reality, Y/N and Namjoon must decide if this is still part of the plan or the start of something real.
!! Warnings !!: vaginal sex, protected sex, fingering, a bit slow burn, angst, fluff, female riding,
Love the story? ☕ Support me on Ko-fi! 💕
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I’ll step out for a bit” I said as I stood up from the table where I had been hanging out with the whole BTS group. It was late at night, and after all the filming they had done for their newest Run BTS show, the staff had booked them a two-story house for the night. We had just finished dinner and were chatting at the table while playing some games. Earlier, I had been seated between Namjoon and Taehyung, with Jimin and J-Hope in front of us, and my sister and her boyfriend, Jungkook, to their right. Jin and Suga were tired and had gone to sleep straight after dinner. I decided to step out onto the balcony for a few minutes.
My sister was deeply in love with Jungkook, and he felt the same way about her. I wouldn’t say I was jealous, but my situation with my crush on one of the group members had never progressed any further. Every time we met on days like this, I felt a pang of disappointment. It’s not that I lack the courage to confess my feelings, I just sensed that he wasn’t interested. Jimin had always been polite and kind, and that was that. I tried to distract myself from my feelings as I stared at the view ahead. The night was a bit chilly, so I quickly lit up a cigarette. I had never been a fan of smoking, but life happens and sometimes it leads to bad habits. I put the cigarette between my lips and took out my lighter. After multiple attempts, I kept failing to get it lit.
“Damn, I can’t even light this” I muttered to myself. All this crush drama and the work I had to return to tomorrow made me feel burned out. Sometimes, I wished I could just book a flight and go on vacation to clear my mind.
Then, a small flame lit up in front of my face. I stepped back, surprised.
“I saw you out here and noticed you were struggling with that.” Namjoon said, pointing to the lighter I was clutching.
“Ha! So you could tell from that far that I’m new to this? I don’t even think it’s broken, I just haven’t used it properly. I’ve only done it a few times over the past few days.”
“Never thought I would see you smoke. You should drop it; it’s a bad habit.” Namjoon took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, lighting it and nodding in my direction, telling me to bring mine closer so he could light it.
“You do realize you’re smoking too, even though you said that, and lighting mine isn’t going to make me quit.” I replied as I approached, the cigarette back in between my lips while looking at him.
“I’ll forgive you tonight, you seem to have a lot on your mind judging on how you left earlier.” He said as he came closer, covering the cigarette with his free hand and lighting the cigarette for me, his gaze never breaking mine.
“Joon, I didn’t know you were so observant. But yeah, I do, life’s been rough lately.” I said as I blew my first puff in the air.
“Well, I just hope it isn’t the fault of a particular person,” he teased.
“Huh? Wait, what?” I panicked, feeling my cheeks flush.
“You like Jimin, don’t you?” At that moment, I think I stopped breathing. He said it so bluntly, like it was a fact. The thought of anyone inside the house overhearing made me incredibly embarrassed. I knew for a fact that no one had heard it, they all were quite loud in there. Besides my sister, no one knew about my feelings.
“What gave that away? Haha! I mean, I have a crush on all of you, in case you didn’t know.” I said nervously, hoping that maybe by saying that, I could hint to him that it was true, but he didn’t have to know the specifics.
“Yeah, right. You kept staring at him the whole time during dinner and while we played games.”
“Was it that obvious?” I facepalmed myself.
“Let’s say a little bit,” Namjoon said, puffing out some smoke.
There was a brief silence after that, the only sound being the smoke from our cigarettes. I decided to break the silence again.
“Well, now you know the truth, I guess, and as you might know, he doesn’t feel the same way, so these feelings will fade on their own.”
Namjoon turned his head to look at me. “How do you know he doesn’t like you back?”
“Well, he’s never initiated anything like that. I don’t think he’s ever come to talk to me first, it has always been me! Gosh, that sounds so pathetic, right?”
“No, I can see what you mean. Maybe he’s shy and just needs a little push.”
“Like what?” I had heard that so many times from my sister that I couldn’t bear Namjoon saying it again. So I snapped, sounding a bit more on edge than I intended.
“I don’t know, maybe by making him realize what he’s losing out on or something like that.”
“I understand what you mean, but I would like the person I like to know beforehand, not me having to squeeze it out of them.”
“Right, but nobody’s perfect, so you might have to give that small push.”
“Well, I don’t even know how to start…” I trailed off focusing on looking at the ground.
“Use me.”
“What?!?” My head snapped back and I nearly dropped the remainder of my cigarette on the floor. “Aren’t you in a relationship, or did I hear that wrong?”
“Nope, you heard it right. And to answer your other question, I broke up with her a few weeks ago. Actually, she sorta broke up with me. I was thinking about making her jealous to show her what she lost, kinda like your situation. We should help each other out, get what we want, and then go back to normal.”
“Wait, so she broke up with you? What the hell, for real? Her loss though… So does that mean you want to fake-date for a while to see how things turn out? I mean, I’m not against it, but there are a million things that could go wrong. I have to tell my sister about it, and probably Jungkook with his big mouth will spill the beans, and what about the media? How’s that going to work?”
“Well, first, don’t tell your sister the whole truth for now, just spin this whole situation with a white lie. As for the media, we won’t go out in public together—just to closed events that my ex might attend, along with other staff members at nights like this when it’s only us as a group.”
“Right… and how long are we faking this? We can’t just go out there and drop the bomb on the members and be like, ‘Hey guys, we’re dating.’ That will confuse everyone!”
“Don’t worry about that. They might think I’m the jerk who is using you after my ex, but we want Jimin’s attention, don’t we? So he can notice you properly, although now that I’ve said it, you being my fake girlfriend and him having feelings for you kinda hurts my ego.”
“Look who’s jealous now! Haha. But omg, this is crazy, Namjoon. How long have you been planning this?” I questioned him, raising an eyebrow.
“I just thought about it after seeing you here on the balcony.” he said, raising his shoulders, as if it was no big deal.
“Wow, I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“You just don’t. We can discuss everything in detail later. Are you in or not?”
My mind was racing. I had always been very calculative, I’d never been spontaneous, like those people who book a flight within a day and leave for a trip, returning a month later, especially not like this. But something about Namjoon’s plan made me feel safe. Yes, it would cause a little drama in the group, but I doubted it would lead to anything major, right?
“Fuck it. Yes, I’m in… but we are definitely setting some rules later on.”
“Then shall we?” Namjoon extended his hand toward mine, motioning towards the room. I let him take it, and we both smiled at each other as we walked back hand in hand where the others were.
***
The room had changed since I quickly left for the balcony. Now, everyone was engaged in different activities. My sister and Jungkook were deep in conversation, laughing about something, while J-hope was dancing to some background music. Taehyung and Jimin were laughing loudly, watching him. Namjoon and I walked toward the table, still holding hands. J-hope noticed us first, abruptly stopping his dance and screamed loudly, shaking the whole house. You could hear Yoongi and Jin coming out of their rooms, frustrated about the commotion.
J-hope’s eyes widened, and everyone followed his gaze to our linked hands. My eyes instinctively searched Jimin's face. I couldn’t pinpoint his reaction; he clearly wasn’t laughing anymore, but his expression was unfazed, and I had no idea what he might be thinking.
“Y/N! Why are you holding hands with Namjoon?” my sister exclaimed, rising from her chair in shock. I had anticipated her reaction, but at that moment, my throat went dry. I didn’t know what excuse to give. It looked like Namjoon sensed my hesitation. He squeezed my hand once and stepped toward my sister, not letting go of my grip.
“Well, you caught us! We just started dating this week and didn’t want to keep it from you guys any longer, so we decided to announce it today. Y/N was telling me that you might kill her later if we dragged this out without telling everyone,” Namjoon said, while everyone stood in silence. From time to time, I averted my gaze from him to Jimin, who didn’t bother to look at me directly but was actively listening to his hyung.
“Well, congrats, guys! Is this why J-hope screamed?” Suga said, yawning. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“Yeah, me too. But congrats!” Jin added as he headed back to his room.
“Whoa, that explains why you guys were seated next to each other today!” Taehyung said, covering his mouth as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have.
“I noticed you following her after she excused herself, but I didn’t think you were dating, hyung,” J-hope chimed in.
“Y/N, as long as you’re happy I am too but you have to tell me all the details later,” my sister said.
“Yeah, congrats, guys! Now your sister and I won’t be the only couple here!”Jungkook exclaimed.
“Thanks, everyone,” I said, smiling at how supportive they were, even though this was all just a facade. I really hoped they wouldn’t be upset later when we had to tell them that we were ‘’breaking up’’.
“Didn’t you just break up with your ex, Namjoon?” Jimin finally spoke up. I hadn’t expected him to go after Namjoon like that.
“Yes, she dumped me weeks ago, but I always had my eyes on Y/N. She’s different, as you might have noticed,” Namjoon replied, turning to me with a smile.
“Congrats, then,” Jimin said, rising from his chair. “I’m going to sleep, I’m actually tired.” He glanced at Taehyung, probably signaling him to follow since they were sharing a room.
“Thanks, bro. We should probably all go to sleep anyway, it’s late.” Namjoon pulled me closer and kissed my cheek before leaving quickly, leaving everyone stunned.
The room fell silent, and I could feel my cheeks heating up. I probably looked like a teenage girl who just interacted with her crush. His gesture was making this feel less fake than it was. Damn him.
Everyone was looking at me, including Jimin, who slowly looked me up and down before leaving after Namjoon.
“Well, Y/N, I’m happy for you and Namjoon. You seem to like each other a lot! We can tease you two later. I’m off to sleep, too. Bye!” J-hope said, dragging Taehyung with him as they left.
It was just me, Jungkook, and my sister now.
“I’ll leave you girls to it. Goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight, love,” Jungkook quickly pecked my sister on the lips and left the living room.
“Look, let’s discuss this tomorrow; I want to sleep too!” I quickly fake yawned looking at my sister.
“No way, sissy! We’re staying up all night until you give me all the details!” she said and pulled my arm towards our room.
Great, this is going to be a long night.
***
The next morning, I woke up after only two hours of sleep. The late-night conversation I had with my sister about Namjoon made everything feel surreal. Sure, I’d lied a bit, letting her believe that this was real, but she’d understand later, I didn’t want her accidentally telling Jungkook and blowing our cover.
I grabbed my phone, got up, and started dressing to go for a walk to clear my head. I decided to just wear something casual , a white tank top and jeans. Mid-change, my sister woke up.
“Y/N, what’s with all the noise? I want to sleep,” she groaned.
“You’d have slept better if you hadn’t insisted on talking last night,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you going to Namjoon’s already?” she teased getting up to look at me.
I finished putting on my top and headed toward the door. “I’m getting coffee first. See you later.”
As I opened the door and took a step forward, I smacked right into a firm chest. After a second, my blurry vision cleared, and I looked up to see Namjoon, his fist raised as if about to knock.
“Ouch,” I muttered, rubbing my head.
“You alright?” he asked, concerned in his voice.
“Oh my god, Joon! She was just coming to you!” my sister shouted from her bed.
“Is that true?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.
I quickly closed the door so my sister couldn’t hear or see us anymore. “No,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.
“Sure,” he replied, his dimples showing in a playful grin.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Can’t confirm or deny.”
“So, what are you doing here?” I asked, curious.
“Well, you mentioned we had some unfinished ‘rules’ to go over. I figured since everyone’s still asleep, I’d come get you and finalize everything.”
“What if I hadn’t answered the door? I barely slept last night.”
“I’d have walked in,” he said with a shrug.
“You wouldn’t dare…”
“Scared, Y/N?”
“Me? Never. But seriously, what if I was changing? And I share a room with my sister.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” he teased, earning a smack on the arm from me.
“Ouch! Relax, I’m joking. We need to make this look convincing, you know, we can’t act like just friends.”
“Fine. Just save it for when others are around, then.”
“Alright, let’s head to the park nearby. I doubt anyone would be there to recognize us this early.”
“Sure.”
***
We found ourselves sitting on a bench at the park. It was early, and no one else was around.
“So, I think we should come up with some rules, like they do in the movies,” I suggested.
“Don’t people end up falling for eachother in the movies when they say this?” he questioned me.
“Hello! You know what I mean, stop joking around.” I said, slapping his arm.
“Okay okay…I’m up for whatever you’re comfortable with, Y/N. You say your rules, and I’ll say mine.”
“Fine. So, this is kind of cliché, but no kissing unless absolutely necessary, like if people are starting to suspect something. I don’t want this to be too… cheesy.”
“I understand that,” he said, nodding. “But if you want to kiss me, Y/N, just say so.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”
“Okay, I’m fine with other PDA stuff. But you have to let me know if you’re seeing anyone for real or if that ex returns. I don’t want to interfere with anything important. Same goes for me if, say, Jimin confesses or something. And this lasts for a maximum of two months. We’re not dragging this out. Deal?”
“Yeah, yeah, deal. It’s all in here, don't worry .” He tapped his head with his index finger following along with a grin.
“Anything else you want to add?” I replied.
“Yeah, just one thing: promise not to fall in love with me.”
I gave him a deadpan look, but he burst into laughter. “You should’ve seen your face! I’ve always wanted to say that line.”
“Unbelievable. Are you serious? I thought you were better than this!” I laughed, shaking my head.
“Hey, I’ve always been this way,” he replied with a wink.
“Sure, sure…”
***
We decided to head back to the house after our chat. As we approached, Namjoon standing beside me suddenly took my hand and pulled me towards him. Now we were standing face to face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, leaning close. “Shh, he’s watching. Right there, on the balcony.”His head made a gesture leaning slightly forward towards the balcony’s direction but I didn't dare to turn my head and look.
And just like that, we walked toward the entrance, hand in hand.
“Here come the newlyweds!” Taehyung shouted as soon as we stepped in.
“Y/N, does this make you the group’s ‘mom’? Since Namjoon’s the dad and leader?” J-hope joked laughing.
Namjoon released my hand and muttered to me, “Gotta grab something from my room.” He slipped away, and I turned to J-hope, who was eagerly awaiting an answer.
“Yes, I guess I’m the mom now!” I declared, making a playful grab for him. He bolted, and I chased him into the living room while everyone laughed and shouted at us to stop.
We finally stopped running when Jimin came down the stairs, and I bumped into him, making us both fall to the floor.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, didn’t see you there!” I said flustered.
Jimin stood up quickly and stretched a hand out to help me, but before I could grab it, Namjoon stepped in and helped me up instead.
“I leave for one second and you already have other guys all over you Y/N,” Namjoon teased looking at Jimin and me.
“Not my fault! Blame J-hope,” I said, playfully glaring at him.
“Me?? I didn’t do anything!” J-hope protested from across the room.
“You’ve done it now, J-hope! You made Namjoon unhappy. Run for your life!” Jungkook shouted, grinning.
Namjoon took off after J-hope, and I was left standing next to Jimin.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his eyebrows slightly shooting upwards.
“Yeah, don’t worry.”
***
The rest of the day passed with a few more playful teases from the guys. The shoot was over yesterday, and we were all getting ready to leave. As everyone packed their things, we gathered in the living room to say our goodbyes. J-hope and Taehyung were still struggling to pack up so everyone decided to just stay downstairs till they finished. As for me I hadn’t gotten much sleep, and I felt myself starting to doze off on the couch.
Just before I drifted off, my phone buzzed with a message from Namjoon. I looked up to see him watching me with a small smile.
Namjoon: It was a close call earlier
Y/N: Close call for what? I replied, confused.
Namjoon: Jimin helping you and being all touchy
Y/N: Yeah, why did you interfere then?
Namjoon: You need to play hard to get.
I rolled my eyes at him, and he sent me a screenshot of our text conversation. Confused, I opened it to see if anything looked different but couldn’t figure it out.
Namjoon: I can see that confused look, I already changed your contact name to ‘Y/N <3’. Change mine, too.
“Fine,” I muttered.
After thinking about it, I matched him and set his name to ‘Namjoon <3’. I took a screenshot and sent it back to him.
His only reply was a single red heart.
***
After we left that day, Namjoon and I didn’t have much reason to meet up. We texted here and there, so my phone lit up with his name from time to time for my sister to see and his phone with my name for the boys. Although lately with the guys’ busy schedules, we didn’t actually hang out. Two weeks passed like this.
One day, my sister casually brought it up. “You know, even when he’s busy, Jungkook comes to see me. I haven’t seen you and Namjoon together at all. Are you guys even dating?”
I panicked. Was it that obvious? “Of course we are! He’s just been busy, but we talk every day. I was just about to visit him at the company,” I replied quickly, hoping she’d buy it. I didn’t even know Namjoon’s schedule for the day, so I could only hope he’d be there.
“Really? Jungkook mentioned they’re rehearsing a new choreography and might be there late tonight.”
Maybe I should go there just for today to clear any suspicions out .“Yep, I knew that! Well, see ya!” I said, grabbing my things and rushing out the house.
After a quick stop at the nearest convenience store to grab snacks for everyone, I tried calling Namjoon three times, but he didn’t pick up. Finally, I decided to just head to the company and hope for the best.
When I arrived at the building, I used the staff access card my sister had gotten from Jungkook. Despite Namjoon and I being a “couple,” no one else at the company knew, aside from the guys, so it would’ve been suspicious for me to have my own card.
I knew they’d be in one of the practice rooms, but there were a lot on the second floor, and other groups seemed to be practicing there at the same time. I tried my best not to look suspicious as I moved closer to each door, listening for any familiar music, hoping to recognize one of BTS’s new singles.
After several tries, I finally heard that familiar tune I was looking out for. I waited outside until the music stopped, indicating they were either taking a break or resetting. Once it was quiet, I slipped inside.
They were all there, gathered in front of a camera, analyzing their dance moves. Jimin noticed me first and gave a small smile.
The others must have caught on because Namjoon and the guys turned their heads toward me.
“Y/N!” J-hope shouted, “What are you doing here? Missed Joon already?”
I didn’t even bother responding. Namjoon quickly walked over and asked, “What are you doing here?” He positioned himself in front of me to shield me from the others’ view.
“Well, I tried calling three times to let you know I was coming, but you didn’t pick up. What else was I supposed to do?” I lowered my voice. “People are getting suspicious, you know. My sister even asked why we never hung out since announcing we were together.”
“I’ve been busy, as you can see…”
“I noticed, which is why I came here to act like the girlfriend who missed you and all that corny stuff.”
“Right… Okay, go on with the show.”
I looked over his shoulder to see if the other members were still watching, and they were, especially Jimin, who gave me a look that made me wonder if he was jealous or just amused. I set the snacks on the floor, wrapped my arm around Namjoon’s waist, and hugged him tightly.
“Bear with it for me a bit, Joon,” I whispered.
He didn’t reply, he just hugged and squeezed me back. After a couple of seconds, I let go, picked up the snacks, and walked over to the guys.
“Yes, J-hope, you’re right. But who said I don’t miss you all too? I also brought some snacks, I wasn't sure what everyone liked, so I just got a bit of everything.”
“WOAH! Y/N, you’re the best!” Taehyung shouted, rushing over to peek into the bags.
Jimin stepped up and took the bags from me, gently brushing my hand as he thanked me before taking them to a nearby table. The others gathered around while Namjoon stayed beside me. I felt his presence and turned to him. “We need to talk.”
“Can we do it after the shoot? We’ve got one more left.”
“Oh…” Feeling shy, I blurted out, “Can I stay and watch? Not in a creepy way, just until you’re done so we can talk privately.”
“Yes, I’d like that… I mean, yeah, sure. The others might think it’s cute, you waiting around like a proper girlfriend.”
“Hey, I am a good girlfriend, thank you very much! … Wait, do you think it’s cute when girls stay and watch you practice?”
“Not all girls, just my girlfriend,” he said with a wink.
“Oh please, you act like you’ve had so many.” I rolled my eyes.
“I won’t tell you how many, but… what I’m trying to say is, I want you to stay.”
“Okay…”I didn't know how to respond to that. But I had already decided that I wanted to stay.
“Joon, let’s finish this up so we can dig into the snacks!” Jin called from the table.
“Coming!” Namjoon replied, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before heading back. It always catches me off guard when he does that. Flustered, I found a chair near the corner where the camera couldn’t catch me.
Soon, the music started, and all seven of them moved in perfect sync. My eyes traveled first to Jimin, his moves were fluid and perfectly on beat. Then I glanced at Namjoon, whose dancing had a different but equally captivating vibe. I couldn’t help but fangirl a little, watching them perform up close reminded me of just how professional they were. I didn’t even realize I’d been staring at Namjoon the entire time.
When the music stopped, everyone cheered, “Good job, everyone!”
I swear I heard Suga mutter, “Finally, I can go to sleep now.”
I laughed to myself, watching their reactions, and before I knew it, Jimin was standing in front of me.
“Hey, I think you bought too many snacks. Want to come over to the table and share with us?”
“Sure,” I replied, realizing I was actually hungry. “I left in a hurry to get here and might’ve skipped lunch.”
As I sat down at the table with everyone, Jimin took the seat right next to me. But Namjoon was nowhere to be seen—he’d disappeared entirely. Curious, I quickly slipped my phone under the table and messaged him to ask where he was. I must’ve looked worried, because Jin caught on and leaned over with a gentle smile.
“Hey, Y/N, is everything alright? Want some ramen? I’m prepping some now.”
“Oh, yes, thank you, Jin! Everything’s fine, don’t worry!” I replied, brushing off my concern. Namjoon was probably in the restroom or something. I started to dig in as Jin placed a warm bowl of ramen in front of me.
“So, Y/N, how far have you and Namjoon gone?” Taehyung teased, grinning mischievously.
I nearly choked on my noodles, coughing as Jimin shot Taehyung a sharp look and patted my back gently.
“Tae, that’s really none of your business,” Jimin retorted, his voice carrying a protective edge.
Taehyung just shrugged and grinned wider. “Come on, Jimin, we’re all friends here, right, Y/N? Where did Joon-hyung go either way? If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t leave you for one second alone!”
“Good thing you’re not her boyfriend then—you’d drive her insane,” Jimin muttered, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, like you’re any better, Mr. Single,” Taehyung shot back.
“Not for long,” Jimin whispered, almost too low to hear. I turned to him with a curious look, only to see Taehyung caught off-guard, equally stunned.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, standing up. “Gonna drag Namjoon back here so he doesn’t miss all the food.’”
I headed to the hallway, scanning the area for him. When he wasn’t on the second floor, I went downstairs, guessing he might be in the smoking area by the parking lot. I tried calling him, but he didn’t pick up. After twenty minutes of looking, I finally found him, but he wasn’t alone. A woman stood close, and from the look of things, they were deep in conversation. I approached quietly, not wanting to intrude, but as I got closer, I couldn’t help but overhear.
“How have you been?” she asked softly. “You know I have missed you.”’ she said while rocking in place and tracing her fingers along his bicep.
“Fine,” Namjoon replied, his voice tight, while staring at her hand. “What else do you want me to say? You know why we ended things. What do you want now, why are you here?”
Without a second thought, I stepped up beside Namjoon, slipping my arm through his yanking him away from her touch. “There you are, babe!” I said, smiling sweetly. “The guys have been waiting for you to join us.”
Namjoon looked over, startled, just as the woman frowned. “Excuse me, but who are you?”
I gave her a calm but pointed smile. “Who am I? The real question is who are you?”
“She’s…my ex,” Namjoon muttered, seeming caught between confusion and discomfort.
“Ah,” I said, squeezing his arm a bit. “In case you missed it, I’m his current girlfriend. And I plan on being the last, right, babe?”
Namjoon’s eyes went wide for a moment before he quickly nodded. “Uh…yeah.”
His ex scoffed. “Right. Is this some joke to make me jealous, Namjoon? You know these things don’t work with me. I know us so let’s go somewhere to talk alone shall we?”
Great, I thought. Typical ex drama. But I kept my cool. “No need, we will be leaving together instead…” I said with a tight smile.
I tugged on Namjoon’s arm to lead him away. “Come on babe, everyone’s waiting,” I said and Namjoon quickly added, “see you around!”
“Or not,” I added, giving her one last look before we left. As we walked arm-in-arm back to the elevator, I leaned closer to Namjoon, whispering, “What’s going on with you? You tell me to act like your girlfriend, and then you turn into a deer in headlights in front of her. She probably figured it out that we’re faking this.”
Namjoon seemed distracted, barely listening. “I know, sorry…it was just…unexpected.”
“Okay, so…are you on track to getting back with her?” I asked carefully, watching Namjoon’s face. “I mean, you should if that’s what you want. That’s why we started this whole fake-dating thing, anyway.” I sighed, suddenly feeling the messiness of the situation. “Besides, I don’t even know if Jimin is interested in me or not. He said something really confusing earlier…”
Namjoon and I stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed with a soft chime. He looked at me, pausing thoughtfully before he replied. “It’s complicated, Y/N, but I’m not going to break our two-month agreement now that the guys know. I gave you my word, remember?”
I nodded, somewhat reassured. “I thought so. Not to be rude, but…your ex seems like a…” I paused, choosing my words. “Not so very nice, let’s just say that.”
Before Namjoon could respond, the elevator shuddered and came to an abrupt halt between floors, the lights flickering for a split second before dimming to an emergency glow.
“Oh, come on, seriously?” I groaned, glancing up. “This is a high-end building, how does the elevator just get stuck?”
Namjoon placed a calming hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry; just press the emergency button. They’ll fix it within a few minutes. No need to panic.”
“Right, yeah.” I rang the emergency bell and leaned back against the wall. “But still, I bet my ramen’s cold or eaten by now…” I muttered. I glanced at him, and he still seemed distant, like his thoughts were a million miles away. “Namjoon, are you even listening to me? You’ve been in a daze since we ran into her, is there something I should know?” I said, folding my arms.
“Y/N, can you stop?” he snapped suddenly, his voice sharper than I’d ever heard it.
I jumped slightly, startled by his tone. I was just trying to help. He looked regretful almost instantly but moved toward me, trapping me against the wall of the small elevator, his expression serious.
“I told you, it’s complicated. And it’s not just about her anymore, so can we drop it for now, please?”
“Why are you getting so worked up over all this?” I protested, meeting his gaze. “I was only trying to help. You know, you asked me to be your ‘girlfriend’, but you barely act like my boyfriend. Then when I do step in, you get all flustered.”
He sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead and leaning closer, so close that I could feel his breath. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s just…she cheated on me. She didn’t break up with me, I ended it because I found out. I really cared about her, but after that, I just felt…worthless. Like I don’t deserve to be loved.”
His confession hung heavy in the air. I felt a wave of empathy for him, my face softening at his confession. “Namjoon…you are one of the kindest people I know. You’re a great guy, and if anyone I know deserves love, it’s you. Don’t doubt that for a second.”
He looked at me, his gaze softening and our eyes meeting. For a brief moment, he seemed to forget everything. His ex, the fake relationship, everything but the two of us in this tiny, dim elevator. He glanced down, and I felt the brush of his nose near mine, our faces inches apart.
“You say that, but you still like Jimin,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, almost vulnerable. “And that…feels unfair, doesn’t it?”
My heart skipped a beat. “I…” I started, but the words wouldn’t come. A warm flush rose to my cheeks as I met his gaze, and in that instant, his eyes flicked to my lips, lingering there for just a second before he looked away, resting his head on my shoulder. It felt as though all the tension and worry had finally let go, but as if on cue, the elevator doors slid open with a soft ping, revealing two maintenance staff…and Jimin and J-hope.
J-hope burst into laughter at the sight. “Well, well, Namjoon. Didn’t know you were so…romantic,” he teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
“Are you two alright?” one of the staff members asked, extending a hand to help us out of the elevator. Namjoon stepped out first, then turned, offering me his hand, which I took, feeling more flustered than I’d expected.
Jimin stayed silent, watching us with an unreadable expression, Namjoon’s hand not letting mine go the whole time.
"I've always been like this. You just didn't need to know," he replied to J-hope.
"Oh, I mean as long as Y/N knows," J-hope chimed in with a smirk.
Namjoon and I didn’t respond, but he quickly leaned over and whispered that he had something to handle with the staff. He asked me to wait with the others until he returned.
Jimin spoke up first. "How long were you guys in there? We just heard the bell from the hallway."
"Yeah, Jimin was getting worried since you were taking so long," J-hope added. "So we came to check for you when we heard the alarm."
I was surprised, my mouth slightly open. I hadn’t expected Jimin to be so concerned. It was unusual... and kind of nice?
"Oh, thank you for looking out for me," I replied, glancing at Namjoon, who was handing some cash to the maintenance guys. He quickly came back over, giving us a knowing look.
"I’ll explain along the way," he murmured as he leaned closer to my ear.
Taking my hand, he led us back toward the practice room, with Jimin and J-hope trailing behind. Once we were a bit farther from them, Namjoon spoke quietly. "I had to give the staff some money to keep them from spreading rumors about us. We only wanted the guys to know, and well... my ex. Speaking of which, what did you want to discuss again? Sorry for earlier, I rushed to get a hoodie from my car downstairs and ran into her. That’s why I was late. You know the rest."
"Oh, that explains it. Don’t worry about why I came here to talk —I just needed to convince my sister that we’re still together since we haven’t been going on any dates lately. I called you earlier while I was looking for you but you didn’t pick up.” I paused, then asked, “Do you even have my number because you act like you don't." I said with a sigh.
"C’mon, babe, you know I’ve got it," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and glancing back at Jimin. "I’ll make sure to call you every day from now on and promise to answer every text and call."
"Alright, you better! Also the other reason I came here was that…. I was thinking we should go out one of these days, just for an hour or so, and take a few couple photos. We don’t have any of those, and it’d be nice to have them on our phones. No need to do anything too extravagant, you know typical couples things."
"Sure, but we could also take one right now," he said, pulling out his phone. He lifted the phone, leaned his head close to mine, closed his eyes, and flashed his dimples before snapping the photo, his arm still wrapped around me, catching me completely off guard.
"There, you look cute," Namjoon said, smiling. "I just sent it to you."
"You know we can still see you guys, right? We’re just behind you!" J-hope called out, laughing.
"Now you know, J-hope. I’m shameless when it comes to love."
I felt my face heat up and turned away, bowing a little to the guys as a silent apology.
When we finally made it back to the practice room, the others were still eating. Besides my snack, they’d ordered fried chicken. They must have been starving.
***
After everyone finished up, I greeted the guys one last time, giving each of them a hug before deciding to make my way back home.This time, I opted for the stairs instead of the elevator, my heart racing as I recalled the moment I shared with Namjoon. I couldn’t help but blush, replaying that exchange in the lift. If no one had interrupted us, would it have led to a kiss? I facepalmed, trying to shake off the thought.
I shouldn’t be thinking like this. Namjoon probably still had feelings for his ex, despite the way she had treated him. And then there was Jimin, my feelings for him were still tangled up in my mind. I sighed as I made my way down the stairs, anxiety swirling within me.
I suddenly heard hurried footsteps coming down the stairs, and panic surged through me. What if a crazy sasaeng saw me today and felt jealous? I quickened my pace, and as I rushed down, my vision became blurry. I lost my balance and found myself almost flying through the air, heading straight for the ground. Just as I felt gravity take hold, two strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me backward with such force that I bumped into something or rather someone. I managed to escape the tangled position and looked up to find Namjoon groaning.We both ended up on the floor, with his back against the wall crushed with his legs spread apart and me sitting between them.
“Oh my god, Joon, what are you doing here? Didn’t you leave with the guys?”
“That’s the first thing you ask me? Not ‘Are you okay? Does anything hurt?’ or the fact that I just saved your life?” he hissed a bit in pain.
‘’Oh, that too! I am so sorry…. I quickly looked around gathering my words. “Let me explain!” Taking a deep breath I started explaining. ”I became paranoid and thought some crazy fan was following me. Why else would they take the stairs? No one knows that the elevator got stuck except us and the other guys. I mean, I thought I was about to be assaulted! I–uh … sorry, I should have turned my head and looked back. Don't mind me , I am… such a mess. How am I supposed to handle dating an idol like this? Maybe I shouldn’t even bother with dating at all, this girlfriend thing doesn’t seem to suit me.”
I kept mumbling, and Namjoon kept looking at me with the same gaze I had seen back in the elevator. I think a tear escaped my eye, and he reached out, swiping it away with his thumb. Then, his hand locked onto the back of my head, pulling my head into his firm chest.
“I’m sorry you went through that. Don’t worry, the company is safe most of the time,” Namjoon said quietly.
I let out a breath I had been holding and inhaled, catching a whiff of his scent. It was comforting.
“Y/N, I don’t think you understand how much any of the guys would love to date you now that they’ve seen how cute you act around me. I mean, you are my girlfriend, after all. The reason I came after you is simple: I wanted to drive you home. I’m pretty sure you walked all the way here carrying those snacks by yourself, not letting anyone help you. I thought I could take my car and drive you safely so we could discuss the date we’re going on along the way. But after I told the guys goodbye, you had disappeared, and I knew you wouldn’t dare take the elevator. I know you. After everything that happened, I rushed down the stairs after you. Maybe I should have called out your name to make it clearer that it was me. I’m sorry.”
I looked up at him, creating a bit of space between us. "You have nothing to apologize for. And yes, I’d actually love for you to drive me back; it sounds nice. Thanks for saving me… again haha."
I asked him once more if he was okay and if we needed to go to the hospital, worried that the bump might have had an impact. But he brushed it off, saying this was nothing compared to the rough training days he’d endured as a trainee. With some hesitation, I let it slide, for now.
We both laughed as we stood up and made our way to the parking lot where Namjoon had parked his car. Trying to lighten the mood after the incident, I joked, "It would be funny if your ex was waiting by your car, you know."
He glanced back at me, smirking. "I doubt it. I think you scared her off."
I scoffed. "I mean, she was all over you, and that pissed me off. Especially now that I know what she did to you… she deserved more of a scolding. I can’t believe people like her exist."
Namjoon raised a brow, grinning. "Careful, Y/N, you're starting to sound a little jealous."
"Huh? I’m just saying she shouldn’t be touching you like that. I’d feel the same way if anyone did that to one of my friends! This isn’t jealousy," I replied, looking away.
Namjoon chuckled as he pulled out his car keys and unlocked the car. We got in, and he began adjusting his seatbelt and checking his mirrors. I couldn’t help but find it a little endearing, so I quickly snapped a photo of him without him noticing. I just wanted a memory of all this when it was over.
Once he started the engine and began driving, we discussed when he was free to meet up again.
"I'm free tomorrow evening since we got most of the filming done today. How does that sound for you? Are you free?"
"Let me check my calendar," I replied, pulling out my phone to double-check. "Pretty sure I’m free too." After confirming I had no meetings or other plans, I smiled at him. "Yep, tomorrow evening works!"
"Perfect. I’ll need just three hours of your time."
"Only three hours? Wow, Namjoon, you really know how to disappoint a girl!" I laughed, teasing him. "Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘Give me the whole evening, baby!’"
Namjoon shook his head, chuckling. "Well, I was trying not to be too greedy, especially since you were the one who originally suggested just an hour. But hey, if you're offering…" He grinned, glancing over at me. "Actually, I don’t know if your sister mentioned it yet, but Jungkook has been bugging me for weeks about a double date. I finally told him I’d consider it, only if you said yes, of course. It could help clear any doubts your sister has about us… but it's totally up to you."
"Wow, you really thought this through, didn’t you?" I replied, impressed. "Sure, I don’t mind going on a double date with you guys if it helps. So… where are we meeting again tomorrow?"
"I’ll text you the location later. It’s a surprise," he replied, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Look at you, trying to make a girl feel special, huh?" I teased.
"If it’s you, I don’t mind going all out," Namjoon said softly, turning his head to meet my gaze. I just stared at him, eyes wide.
A beep from the GPS broke the moment, snapping me back to reality. I hadn’t realized how quickly time had flown and Namjoon had already parked near my place.
"Guess we’re here," I murmured, feeling a strange sense of disappointment.
"Yeah… already," he whispered, almost to himself.
I unbuckled my seatbelt, preparing to leave, when I suddenly felt his hand resting gently on my thigh.
"Stay still," he said in a low, quiet voice.
I froze, my mind going blank as I looked up at him, heart pounding. But before I could process it, he was already out of the car, walking over to my side. He opened my door, extending his hand to help me out, the softest hint of a smile on his face.
What a tease. I thought to myself, holding back a grin. "Keep this up, Namjoon, and you’re going to make every girl fall in love with you," I said, raising an eyebrow.
He laughed softly, his hand still holding mine. "Maybe I only need one girl to."
***
When I got back home, my sister was exactly where I’d left her, sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She glanced up, grinning. “So, how was Namjoon? And the guys?”
“Good. I’ll fill you in later; I’m exhausted. Going to bed,” I replied, stifling a yawn.
“This early? It’s only 8:30pm!” she called, giving me a suspicious look.
I smirked. “Well, I have a date tomorrow, so I need my beauty sleep. Night!” I rushed to my room, giggling as my sister yelled after me, begging for details.
As I shut the door, I couldn’t help but smile. This whole fake relationship wasn’t so bad after all, I was actually having fun. And Namjoon was surprisingly perfect at being my “boyfriend”. After changing into my pajamas, I replayed the events of the day in my mind, from our moment in the elevator to the way he’d looked at me during the drive home. With a contented sigh, I slowly drifted off to sleep, the memory of his warm smile lingering like a gentle whisper in the back of my mind.
***
Instead of giving me the location for our meet-up, Namjoon just texted to be ready by six, saying he’d pick me up himself. I guess he really didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Right on time, I waited by the entrance, and soon enough, a car pulled up. The window rolled down, revealing Namjoon in the driver’s seat, wearing a low-brim hat. Even with tinted windows, he was clearly taking extra precautions. Despite that, he still got out of the car and opened the door for me.
"Hi," he greeted as we both settled in, setting up the GPS to navigate. As he drove us through unfamiliar streets, I couldn’t help my curiosity.
"So… can you finally tell me where we’re going?" I asked, leaning over with a grin. "I’ve been dying to know."
“You don’t need to hype it up too much," he chuckled, glancing over with a shy smile. "It’s just a place I thought we could go to let loose for a bit, and afterward, I’ll take you back to my place to eat. My mom’s cooked a few dishes for me, but if you’d rather do takeout, we can do that, too."
“That sounds perfect! And we can take the photos there, too no need to worry about people spotting us. A lot of couples do such stuff at home anyway.”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Do… what at home, Y/N?"
I flushed, immediately backtracking. "Ya! That came out so wrong! I mean… couples do photoshoots at home, that’s all I meant! Nothing else."
“Right, photoshoots…” he teased, his dimples showing as he fought a laugh.
The drive was about thirty minutes from my place, but with all our teasing back and forth, we seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. When we pulled up to a sleek building, Namjoon got out and took my hand, guiding me inside. At the counter, he had the tickets already pulled up on his phone, so the staff barely looked at us, though he was still keeping his cap low just in case.
Looking around, I started piecing things together. We were in an escape room building, and it clicked. I'd once mentioned wanting to try one with all the members someday. Namjoon must’ve remembered. While I was still taking in the space, he released my hand, turning to me with a smirk.
“So, figured it out yet?” he asked.
“Yes!" I laughed, buzzing with excitement. "This is amazing, I love it! We better get out on time, though. You’re known for being smart, so I expect you to really bring it tonight!”
He chuckled. “Alright, but heads-up: there are paid actors involved, and it’s a scary maze. Just watch out for that.”
“Ay ay, captain.”
***
We made it out with ten minutes to spare, and I was still cracking up over Namjoon’s reactions to the jump scares. For someone who’d warned me, he was definitely the one who got startled the most. The theme was intense, a hospital infested with zombies, where we had to find the antidote and escape. Despite all the screaming, Namjoon seemed to have had as much fun as I did. As we left the maze, I was still playfully nudging his shoulder, trying to stifle my laughter.
Just then, a staff member approached us, causing both of us to freeze momentarily. I worried he might recognize Namjoon, but the employee just smiled.
"Congrats! You both finished on time! We actually have a new feature where players who beat the game can take a souvenir photo, something to remember your victory by. Would you both be interested?"
I glanced at Namjoon, checking to see if he was okay with it. To my surprise, he nodded.
“Joon, are you sure?” I whispered. “What if someone recognizes you?”
He shrugged with a reassuring smile. "I doubt it. Plus, the whole point of this date was to make memories.. And take photos."
“Alright!” I smiled back, feeling a little thrill as we posed for the camera.
Namjoon slipped his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him slightly, flashing a peace sign as the staff member took the photo with a Polaroid camera. Moments later, he handed us the printout, a perfect little snapshot of our night.
***
After we finished taking photos, we made our way to Namjoon’s house, stopping to grab some drinks along the way. His mom had cooked some delicious side dishes, and we also ordered fried chicken, along with the inevitable soju, of course.
Once we arrived, we decided to put on some background music and set up the food in the living room, sitting on the floor across from each other. As Namjoon dug into his fried chicken, I couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction to the crispy skin.
“Here, let me get a picture of that!” I said, quickly snapping a photo of him mid-bite, his eyes wide in delight.
He chuckled, his mouth full. “You’re just going to keep embarrassing me, aren’t you?”
“Only a little! But I can’t help it. You look adorable!” I replied, scooting closer to him. “Now let’s take some of those selfies!”
As we snapped pictures together, I felt a warm flutter in my stomach. Namjoon grabbed my phone and started taking candid shots of me, making silly faces that had me laughing uncontrollably. His playful antics were contagious, and soon we were caught up in a whirlwind of laughter, striking goofy poses and trying to outdo each other with the most ridiculous expressions.
“Wait, do that again!” I said between giggles, holding up my hands as if I were trying to frame a perfect shot. “I want to capture your best ‘surprised zombie’ face!”
He obliged, widening his eyes and dropping his mouth open comically. “How about this?” he asked, pretending to stumble toward me like a zombie.
“Perfect!” I said, snapping the photo just in time. We took so many in different poses, wanting to ensure we had plenty of options for later. “I can’t wait to look at these in detail later and see which ones make the cut.”
After a few more rounds of photos, I suggested, “Okay, one last serious one! Let’s try a cute couple pose!”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow playfully. “You mean a ‘we're definitely not just friends’ pose?”
“Exactly!” I laughed, leaning into him as we settled into a pose. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I couldn’t help but feel giddy at the closeness. As the camera clicked, I savored the moment, knowing I’d want to remember this day forever.
“Okay, now that we’ve documented this historic moment, how about a game?” I suggested, feeling a bit tipsy already. “Let’s play Two Truths and a Lie!”
“Alright, I’m in! You go first,” he urged, grinning.
“Okay, um… I once met a celebrity, not any of you by the way, I can cook a five-course meal, and I have a pet turtle named Frank.” I announced, trying to sound serious.
Namjoon raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to figure it out. “I’m going to guess… the pet turtle is the lie?”
“Nope! Frank is very real!” I replied with a laugh. “It’s your turn now!”
“Okay, here goes,” he said, thinking for a moment. “I like to go to museums, I’m not scared of zombies, and I also have a crush on someone.”
I squinted at him, considering his words. “I think the lie is… you’re not scared of zombies!”
Namjoon laughed.”You guessed right, I made it easy for you huh.’’
“But wait,” I said, narrowing my eyes playfully. “What do you mean you have a crush on someone? Who is she? Now, I’m curious, should we put on a show for her too, or is this still about that awful ex?”
Namjoon’s gaze became intense as he looked at me. “Nah, you know her very well. No need for anything,” he replied, his tone teasing but serious.
I felt a flutter in my chest, my mind racing as I wondered if he was talking about me. But I shook it off, not wanting to jump to conclusions. “Oh, really? I know her well?! I don't think we have too many girlfriends in common, Joon. Give me a clue.”
Namjoon just stared at me, his expression unreadable. “For someone who's very intelligent, Y/N, you sometimes surprise me.” After a brief pause, he continued, “The day she notices and looks my way, I’ll tell you then.”
I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. All this new information from the game had him saying such things. Maybe he was just tipsy. I didn’t want to push further, so I suggested something else to do. “Let’s just watch a movie for the rest of the hour!”
Namjoon chuckled and nodded. “Alright, what do you want to watch?”
“How about She’s the Man? It’s a classic!” I suggested, eager to skip the topic.
“Sounds good to me,” he replied, though I could feel his eyes still lingering on me as I settled in next to him on the couch.
I tried to shake off the feeling of his intense gaze and focused on the movie while we cleaned up the snacks around us, laughing and joking about our favorite scenes.
As the movie played, Namjoon grabbed his phone and recorded a quick video of me as I reenacted some of the funniest moments. He even jumped up to join in on the fun, pretending to act out a scene while I filmed him, both of us cracking up at how ridiculous we looked. But as the night wore on, we eventually grew tired and fell into a comfortable silence, the movie’s dialogue blending into the background.
I began to drift off, the combination of the delicious food, drinks, and the warmth of his presence lulling me into sleep. I could feel my eyelids growing heavy, and just before I fully surrendered to the peacefulness, I caught a glimpse of Namjoon’s soft smile as he watched me, his attention shifting from the screen to me.
Later on, when I finally woke up, I realized it was already the next day. Blinking a few times to gather my thoughts, I felt a warmth radiating from the body next to me. It took a moment for my sleep-fogged brain to register that I was tangled in a cuddling position with Namjoon. His arms were wrapped around me protectively, and a sense of comfort washed over me as I took in the cozy scene.
The soft light filtering through the curtains illuminated his peaceful face, and I couldn’t help but smile at how serene he looked in his sleep. His hair fell across his forehead, and his chest rose and fell gently with each breath. I shifted slightly, trying not to disturb him, but the movement only caused him to tighten his grip around me, pulling me closer.
Feeling a mix of warmth and butterflies in my stomach, I wondered how we had ended up like this. The memories of last night flooded back our laughter, the silly games, and the intense moment we shared when he mentioned having a crush. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the wave of emotions that rose within me.
Glancing at the clock displayed on the TV, I realized it was still early. I didn't want to break the peaceful moment, so I settled back against him, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Just then, I heard him stir beside me. His eyes fluttered open, and when he met my gaze, a sleepy smile spread across his face.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep.
“Good morning,” I replied softly, my heart racing a little at how cute he looked. “Did we really fall asleep on the couch?”
“Looks like it,” he chuckled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I guess we had more fun than I thought.”
“Yeah, it was a great night,” I said, feeling a flutter in my chest. “I can’t believe I fell asleep like this. It was only supposed to be 3 hours!.”
Namjoon shifted slightly, brushing his fingers against my arm. “I’m not complaining. I could get used to this.”
I felt heat rush to my cheeks at his words. “Me too,” I admitted in a whisper, unable to hide the smile on my face.
***
Days passed, and Namjoon and I had been talking every day, exchanging random thoughts and snippets of our lives. It felt so natural, as if we had known each other forever instead of just a couple of weeks. The day after I left his appartament, I decided to send him the photos we took during our date. As I scrolled through them, I noticed that in most of the pictures, he was looking my way, and I couldn't help but blush.
I realized we only had two weeks left in our agreement. I couldn’t believe how quickly time had flown. Just when I was getting comfortable with this new dynamic, we had plans to meet again for Hobi’s party, celebrating the release of his new single” Chicken Noodle Soup.” The entire company was invited including me and my sister, and I felt a mix of excitement and nerves.
The night of the party arrived, and the energy in the venue was electric. I stepped inside and was immediately greeted by the sound of laughter and music. Namjoon was there, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted black shirt and jeans, but I knew we had to keep our distance given the crowd and all the staff milling around. Despite that, it was hard not to steal glances at him. I felt my heart race every time our eyes met, a small smile always tugging at my lips.
As the night went on, I found myself chatting with some of the other BTS members when a random guy approached me. He had an easy smile and an inviting energy that made him hard to resist.
“Hey there! Would you like to dance?” he asked, extending his hand.
I hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Namjoon. He was probably talking to J-hope about his thoughts on the song, but I could feel his gaze on me. Still, the music was calling, and I didn’t want to miss out. “Um, sure,” I said, taking the guy’s hand and following him to the dance floor.
The moment we started dancing, I could feel Namjoon’s eyes on us, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. The guy was friendly enough, spinning me around and laughing as we moved to the beat. I tried to enjoy myself, but every time I caught a glimpse of Namjoon watching from a distance, my heart raced.
As I swayed to the music, I felt a rush of warmth at the thought of Namjoon. “You know, you’re a great dancer!” the guy said, flashing me a charming smile.
“Thanks! You’re not too bad yourself!” I replied, trying to keep the conversation light. But my mind kept wandering back to Namjoon, who looked tense, his jaw slightly clenched.
Just as I was beginning to get comfortable with the rhythm, I noticed Namjoon striding over. “Hey, mind if I cut in?” he said, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.
“Uh, we are in the middle of the dance…but sure.” the guy replied, stepping back, clearly scared by Namjoon's interruption.
Joon wasted no time taking my hand and pulling me into his arms. The moment he wrapped his hands around my waist, I felt a spark. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, leaning down so only I could hear. “I couldn’t let him have all the fun.”
“Namjoon, we’re in public…that's why I agreed to dance with that guy.I don't want the guest to spread rumors about any of this.” I said, glancing around at the crowd and in between us.
He shrugged, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Let them see. Besides, if you want Jimin to get jealous, you need to look at me more.”
“Wait, what?” I said, caught off guard.
“Just trust me,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Look at me while we dance.”
I nodded, biting my lip to suppress a smile. As we danced, I found it hard to concentrate on anything else but him. The way he held me felt different, intense and possessive. I could see Jimin nearby, talking to a couple of guests. He caught my eye for a brief moment and then turned to look at Namjoon, his expression unreadable.
Once the song ended, I stepped away from Namjoon, my heart racing. “Thanks for the dance,” I said, my cheeks slightly flushed.
“Anytime,” he replied, flashing that charming smile of his. Just then, Jimin approached, a casual grin on his face. “Hey, Y/N! Want to dance?” he asked, his tone friendly.
“Sure!” I said, feeling a little guilty about leaving Namjoon.
As I moved towards Jimin, I glanced back at Namjoon. He stood there, watching us with a mix of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place. I tried to shake off the feeling of tension as I began to dance with Jimin, who had a different energy than Namjoon. He was playful and energetic, making me laugh as we moved to the music.
“Having fun?” Jimin asked, spinning me around. “I saw you dancing with Namjoon earlier. You two looked good together,” he commented casually.
“Yeah, thanks! Just enjoying the night!” I replied, laughing. This was a first, maybe me and Namjoon dancing together perhaps made him a tiny bit jealous.
“So, just curious, for how long have you liked Joon-hyung?”
“Hah, what's with all these questions Jimin, since when does that matter. ” I insisted, though I felt a bit flustered under his gaze. What does he want to get out of this conversation?
‘’I mean you guys have been together for barely 2 months right, so your feelings aren't that strong yet I am assuming?
“I don’t think liking someone works like that,” I shot back, a little defensive.
“Oh really? How does it work then?” Jimin pressed, clearly intrigued.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to articulate how I felt. “Well, I guess it’s more about the connection you build over time. It’s not just about the length of time you’ve known someone, but how you feel when you’re around them.”
“And how do you feel around me Y/N?”Jimin asked, his voice low, catching me off guard.
I paused, the question hanging in the air between us. My heart raced as I considered my response. “Um, I…” I faltered, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion about my feelings for Jimin. It was hard to articulate just how much my emotions had begun to shift.
Jimin seemed to sense my hesitation, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. “You know, you really light up the dance floor. If you ever need a partner, I’m your guy.”
I smiled, feeling flattered yet torn. “Thanks, Jimin! You’re a great dancer too.” But I couldn't shake the sense of uneasiness stirring in my chest. How did I really feel about both of them? Just then, I glanced over at the sight of Namjoon leaning against the wall, his whiskey in hand, watching us intently.
To my rescue, J-hope made his way through the crowd, grinning widely. “Hey, you two! Come on, we’re taking a group photo!” he called out, gesturing for me and Jimin to join the others.
Namjoon and I exchanged glances as we moved closer together, although I could still feel the lingering warmth of his presence beside me as we joined the group. The camera flashed, capturing the moment, and I felt a spark of happiness knowing I was part of this special night, even amidst the confusion of my feelings.
After the photo op, I looked around the venue, trying to soak in the atmosphere. The music was pumping, laughter filled the air, and I felt a surge of joy being surrounded by friends.
“Want to grab some snacks?” I suggested turning to Namjoon.
“Sure! Let’s go before they run out,” he said, flashing me a smile.
As we made our way to the food table, we chatted and joked about the party. “I can’t believe how much fun this is. Hobi really knows how to throw a bash,” I said, eyeing the delicious spread laid out.
“Definitely. And the food is amazing,” he agreed, grabbing a plate.
Just then, I spotted my sister across the room, chatting animatedly with Jungkook. I waved at her, and she returned the gesture with a huge grin. “Look, there’s my sister! She’s having a blast!” I pointed out to Namjoon.
“Your sister seems to be enjoying herself,” he said, glancing over. “And Jungkook looks like he’s making her laugh. They get along really well, huh?”
I nodded, watching them for a moment. “Yeah, they’ve always had a special connection. It’s nice to see her having fun.”
Namjoon chuckled, setting his plate down to grab a couple of snacks. “I can’t blame Jungkook. Your sister is awesome. But let’s focus on our snacks before they disappear!”
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort being there with him, the worries of the outside world momentarily fading away. As we finished eating, Namjoon turned to me, a curious glint in his eyes. “Hey, what were you and Jimin talking about while you were dancing?” he asked, leaning in slightly as if he wanted to hear my answer more closely.
I felt a slight flutter of unease at the question, the earlier conversation with Jimin flashing through my mind. I tried to keep my tone casual. “Oh, nothing important, really. Just typical dance floor talk,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand.
“Are you sure? It looked like you two were having a pretty deep conversation,” Namjoon replied, raising an eyebrow. There was an intensity in his gaze that made me feel like he was trying to read between the lines.
I swallowed hard, feeling a pang of guilt for not being entirely truthful. How could I tell him about what happened, when I didn't have an answer yet. “Dont worry about it.”’
***
Since the party, Namjoon and I have been texting here and there, casual conversations that left me wondering if he’d been busy or just distant. But beneath each message, I could sense a tension, something unspoken simmering between us. That dance with Jimin at the party had left me wondering if I still had feelings for him, or were they fading? And why did talking to Namjoon feel so natural, like we’d been doing this for years?
Either way, this was supposed to be the last week of our fake relationship. We’d both agreed on that. I wanted to bring it up, to ask him what he thought about it all, but every time I tried, the words just wouldn’t come.
Friday arrived, and my sister reminded me of the "couple's date" she’d set up, me with Namjoon and her with Jungkook. I groaned, grabbing my phone to check with Namjoon. Part of me hoped he’d back out, but when I texted, he just replied, "I’ll be there."
That evening, we all met up at a lively bowling center. The place was buzzing with laughter, the crash of pins, and cheers from other lanes. This was a favorite spot for Jungkook and my sister; they always loved a bit of competition, so naturally, they thought it’d be the perfect place for all of us to meet up. I spotted them near a lane, already laughing and waving us over.
Namjoon was sitting close by, fiddling with the scoring screen and taking a sip of a drink he’d already ordered. He looked up as we approached, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. His calm confidence eased some of my jitters.
“Hey,” he said, reaching for my hand as I sat down beside him. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a tiny spark running up my arm.
“Hey,” I replied, glancing up at him, trying to gauge his mood. Did he sense that I was nervous?
We barely had a moment to settle in before my sister leaned in with a playful smirk. “So, Namjoon,” she teased, “are you keeping my sister out of trouble?”
Namjoon chuckled, squeezing my hand gently under the table. “Actually, she’s the one keeping me out of trouble.”
My sister laughed, and Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “You two seem like you’ve got this whole couple thing down.”
A lump formed in my throat. Did we? I cast a quick glance at Namjoon, who seemed unfazed, as always. His calm expression gave nothing away, and it almost made me want to ask, was he as unsure about everything as I was?
When the server came to check on our orders, I realized I hadn’t even glanced at the menu. I’d been too wrapped up in how to bring up the impending end of our “relationship.” Just then, Namjoon leaned over, his voice gentle.
“I ordered you a light beer, since you looked a little distracted,” he said, eyebrows slightly raised in question.
I blinked, snapping back to reality. “Oh! Yeah, that’s perfect. Thanks.”
As the night went on, it was easy to fall into the rhythm of the group, though I couldn’t shake the sense that something was missing. Jungkook and my sister were on a roll, winning nearly every round with their practiced ease, while Namjoon and I fumbled our way through a few frames, laughing despite our weak scores.
Jungkook grinned, picking up his ball with a flourish. “Looks like Namjoon’s been busy writing again, huh? You’ve got that faraway look, hyung.”
Namjoon smiled, shrugging slightly. “It’s been a busy month. A lot of new music, ideas I’m trying to figure out.” He shot me a quick look. “You know how it is.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely been putting in the work,” I added, although I wasn’t entirely sure. He’d been so occupied, and sometimes I felt like just another task on his to-do list.
“Y/N?” My sister’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Oh, sorry!” I said, snapping back to the game. I could feel Namjoon’s eyes on me, but I avoided his gaze, feeling caught.
“We need to focus here,” he whispered, his tone soft but playful. “No more zoning out, partner.”
I laughed, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped. Maybe it was just the thrill of the night, or maybe it was the weight of something unspoken hanging between us. For a fleeting moment, I thought Namjoon was looking at me with the same question in his eyes, the same confusion and quiet hope I felt, but before I could be sure, he looked away.
After a few more rounds of bowling, we decided to explore the arcade on the upper level of the center. The lights from the machines cast a warm, colorful glow, and the air was filled with cheerful noises, beeping games, laughter, and the click of tokens sliding into slots. Namjoon and I stayed close, trying out a few games and exchanging easy laughs, while my sister and Jungkook were busy competing at air hockey.
“Look at this!” my sister called suddenly, bouncing up and down as she spotted an old-school photo booth tucked in the corner. She grabbed Jungkook’s hand and waved us over with a huge grin. “We have to get in there and take some pictures. It’ll be like a memory of tonight!”
The four of us managed to squeeze into the tiny booth, laughing as we scrambled to fit into the narrow frame. My sister gave enthusiastic instructions, calling out poses as the camera clicked.
“Alright, first shot: everyone smile!”
The camera flashed, capturing the four of us grinning, cheeks squished together.
“Now, do a funny face!” she said, pulling a ridiculous expression that made us all crack up just in time for the next shot.
“For the last one… let’s make it a couples’ kiss!” she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. She turned to Jungkook, already leaning in for their shot. I felt my heart pound in my chest as I turned to Namjoon, feeling my face flush as I took in his expression.
Namjoon’s eyes met mine, and for a second, I saw the same hesitation, the same unspoken question that had been following us all night. We’d never kissed, not even for show, and now we were in this tiny photo booth with a camera about to flash, only inches separating us. I could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he leaned forward ever so slightly, his face close enough that I closed my eyes, waiting for the moment to come…
But it didn’t.
I opened my eyes just as he pulled back, offering me a polite, almost forced smile. My stomach dropped, and a wave of embarrassment washed over me, making my cheeks burn. Trying to brush it off, I quickly turned to the camera after the last flash, the awkwardness settling heavily between us like a wall.
When the photo strip began to print, I couldn’t ignore the nagging questions twisting inside me. I stepped out of the booth with the others, walking a bit farther so they wouldn’t overhear, and Namjoon followed, sensing I wanted to talk. I glanced at him, feeling vulnerable but needing to know. “Namjoon… why did you stop?”
For a second, his usual composure slipped, and I caught a glimmer of something almost sad in his eyes. Then he shrugged, looking away. “There’s no point, Y/N. We’ve only got a couple of days left of this… arrangement, right?” He gave me a small, almost bitter smile. “Besides, Jimin’s probably already feeling jealous enough. I saw you two at the party, you were laughing with him, looking happy. I figured… there’s no need to make this more complicated.”
His words felt like a punch to the chest. I realized then just how much I’d been hoping for that kiss to mean something, for it to be a turning point between us. But the way he dismissed it so casually left my heart aching in ways I hadn’t prepared for. I swallowed hard, forcing down the tears threatening to rise.
“You don’t even know what we talked about,” I said, my voice barely steady. Jimin had asked me at the party how long I’d liked Namjoon, and maybe I had smiled without realizing it. I hadn’t told Namjoon about it that night because I hadn’t known how I felt then. But now… now, I was sure. I wanted him more than anyone, yet he’d just walked away from the chance to kiss me, even after I’d closed my eyes and leaned in. If he couldn’t even kiss me now, he clearly didn’t feel the same way.
Namjoon’s face was hard to read as he replied, his voice quieter. “You’re right, I don’t know. But I asked you then, and you didn’t tell me. I get it, Y/N… this is fake, and I’m not your boyfriend. You don’t owe me anything, so I didn’t push it. But don’t act like you wouldn’t rather have Jimin here right now instead of me.”
I felt my anger and frustration rise to the surface, all the confusion of the past few weeks pushing me over the edge. “How do you know what I want?” I snapped. “You think you know me so well after just two months of us ‘being together’? You’re right, Namjoon, I don’t have to tell you anything. And since this ‘deal’ between us”, I gestured between us, my voice sharp, “ends in two days, maybe we should just end it now. Right here. I might as well go to Jimin after this.”
He stared back at me, hurt flashing across his face before he composed himself. “Fine. I thought that was the point of this whole thing anyway. Good luck.” he said flatly, his eyes holding mine with a hardened look. Neither of us spoke, tension building in the silence, the distance between us now feeling like miles.
Just then, my sister and Jungkook walked over, holding the strip of photos. My sister was laughing at first, but when she looked closely, her expression changed as she noticed the last photo.
“Wait… you two didn’t kiss?” She looked between us, her face full of confusion. “Come on, you guys!”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension. “What’s going on?”
Something inside me snapped. All the frustration, disappointment, and anger bubbled to the surface. I turned to my sister, unable to hold back. “Because it’s all fake,” I said, my voice louder than I intended, the words coming out like a final admission. “None of this is real.”
The room fell silent. My sister’s smile faded, her face filled with surprise and hurt. Namjoon’s face went blank, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the shock radiating off him.
“Y/N, wait—” Namjoon reached for my arm, but I jerked away, feeling the sting of tears as they blurred my vision. Without another word, I turned and left the arcade, letting the lights and sounds blur around me as I hurried down the stairs, desperate to put distance between us.
***
When I got home, I shut my bedroom door and sank onto my bed, letting out a long breath. I tried to hold it together, but the weight of the night finally broke through, and a few tears slipped out before I could stop them. I felt so mixed up, like I’d been thrown into a storm without a compass. Namjoon’s words kept replaying in my mind—how he’d brushed off the kiss, how he seemed to assume I’d rather be with Jimin. It stung more than I wanted to admit.
After a while, I wiped my face, deciding I was done feeling sorry for myself. This was supposed to be a temporary, harmless plan, so there was no point in getting tangled up in something that wasn’t meant to be. I distracted myself for a bit, scrolling through my phone, but my thoughts kept circling back to him.
Then, I heard the front door open. Moments later, there was a soft knock, and my sister stepped into the room. She took one look at me, her expression a mix of concern and understanding, and came over to sit beside me on the bed.
“Hey,” she started gently. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
I hesitated, but she didn’t push, just sat there patiently until I was ready to say something.
Finally, she sighed and continued, “Look… Namjoon stayed a bit after you left. He… Well, he explained everything to us.”
I felt my heart skip a beat. “What did he say?”
She gave me a careful look. “He told us the whole thing, that you two only started dating to make Jimin jealous, and… to get back at his ex.”
I cringed, suddenly feeling a flood of embarrassment. “He told you that?”
She nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. I think he was just trying to be honest. He looked really upset when he was explaining, though. Like… I don’t know, like he didn’t really want to be saying it out loud.”
I blinked, my mind racing. Part of me felt a strange sense of relief that she knew, but it didn’t erase the guilt or the way my heart still ached at the memory of his words in the photo booth.
My sister hesitated, then asked gently, “Y/N… who do you really like? Is it Jimin, or… Namjoon?”
I swallowed, feeling a weight settle in my chest. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I thought I still liked Jimin, but… being with Namjoon felt so natural, so easy. And tonight, it felt like maybe… maybe I’d been lying to myself about my feelings.”
She reached over and squeezed my hand. “That’s okay, you know. You’re allowed to feel confused. But it’s important that you’re honest with yourself. Just think it through, and don’t do anything just because you’re afraid of what it might mean.”
I nodded, feeling the tension ease a little. She stayed with me, her silent support enough to make the chaos in my heart feel a little less heavy. Maybe I didn’t have the answers yet, but I knew that tonight had shifted something inside me. And maybe that was the first step to figuring it all out.
***
By Saturday evening, I’d almost convinced myself that tonight would be normal, just a simple get-together with friends, no awkwardness or confusing feelings. Taehyung was hosting a small party at his place, just a casual night for all of us to catch up. I hesitated at first, but after all that had happened, I figured it would be good to see the others. Besides, Namjoon had already mentioned in the group chat that he couldn’t make it because something had come up, so it wasn’t like I’d have to worry about seeing him.
So that evening, my sister and I got ready and headed over together. The minute we walked in, the familiar sounds of laughter and the low hum of music filled the air, instantly easing some of the tension I’d been holding. I spotted Taehyung across the room, chatting with Yoongi and Jin, who were already nursing drinks. J-hope was over by the music setup, picking out the next track, and Jungkook waved at us as we walked in.
“Hey, you two! Glad you could make it,” Taehyung greeted us with a grin, pulling us both into a quick hug. He handed us each a drink, smiling mischievously. “Don’t worry, we’re just getting started.”
I laughed, feeling a bit lighter. We settled in, and soon I was chatting with everyone, catching up, swapping stories, and just enjoying the easygoing atmosphere. I’d forgotten how nice it was to just be around friends without the weight of the past week lingering over everything.
At one point, I glanced across the room and noticed Jimin looking at me. He didn’t say anything, just watched me with a quiet intensity that sent a little jolt through me. I quickly looked away, pretending not to notice, but I could feel his gaze lingering, even when I wasn’t looking his way.
A little while later, Taehyung clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Alright, everyone! Time for a little game to keep things interesting.” He grabbed an empty bottle and placed it on the table. “Let’s do a classic: Never Have I Ever. But first, drinks all around!”
Everyone cheered, and we each grabbed a drink. Before starting the game, Taehyung took out his phone and snapped a quick photo of everyone holding up their drinks, laughing and cheering. “Alright, group photo for the memories,” he said, quickly sending it to the group chat.
I checked my phone and saw the notification pop up in the chat. I couldn’t help but smile at the picture, everyone looking so carefree and happy. Just then, I noticed that Namjoon had seen the message. A small pang hit me, but I shook it off and put my phone away, trying to focus on the game.
Taehyung spun the bottle, and as it pointed at each person, they took turns saying things they’d never done, and the others either drank or laughed as they tried to remember their own stories. The energy was light, with people teasing each other over the stories they shared, and even Yoongi was getting into it, smiling more than usual.
At one point, Jimin leaned over and grinned at me as I took a sip for something silly someone had said. “You’re a bit of a mystery, aren’t you?” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.
I rolled my eyes, trying to brush it off. “Or maybe I just have a lot of secrets,” I shot back with a smirk, making him laugh.
The night went on, and I couldn’t deny that there was a certain freedom in being here without Namjoon, like I could just be myself without all the confusing feelings getting in the way. But every now and then, I’d catch Jimin’s eyes on me, the way he seemed to be watching me a little too closely, like he was waiting for something.
About 30 minutes into the game, just as the conversation was getting more lively and the drinks were flowing, the front door swung open. I didn’t even notice at first, lost in conversation with Jungkook about some random funny video he had seen. But then, I heard a familiar voice from across the room.
“Did I miss anything?”
I turned, and there, standing in the doorway, was Namjoon. He was casually dressed, a slight smile on his face, but his presence hit me like a wave. My heart skipped, and suddenly, the air felt a little heavier. He was here, and I hadn’t expected it at all.
He must’ve noticed the change in atmosphere because everyone’s attention shifted to him. Taehyung grinned, raising his drink. “Look who decided to show up! The party’s just getting started, hyung.”
Namjoon gave a half-shrug, his gaze scanning the room before landing on me for a brief second. He didn’t stay on me long, though, quickly moving toward the group and grabbing a drink from the counter. I tried to keep my composure, but the tension in my chest was impossible to ignore. He’d shown up, and everything I thought I’d managed to put behind me came rushing back.
Jimin, on the other hand, didn’t look away from me. His gaze was sharper now, and I could feel the weight of it, like he was waiting for me to react. I looked down at my drink, trying to focus on anything but the way Jimin’s stare was beginning to make me uncomfortable.
Namjoon joined the circle, exchanging pleasantries with the guys. He settled in, his usual calm demeanor in place, but there was something more guarded about him tonight. I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the tension too, or if I was just imagining it.
After a few moments, Taehyung clapped his hands again, getting everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s keep the fun going. Who’s up for a round of shots before we start the new round?”
Namjoon smiled, but I could tell it was a little forced. “Sure,” he said, reaching for the bottle that was passed around. I noticed that when he got to me, his hand paused for just a second, like he was trying to decide something, but then he took the shot with a steady hand.
Jimin, who had been quiet for the last few minutes, finally spoke up, his voice light but pointed. “You sure you’re up for this, Namjoon? You looked like you were busy earlier.”
Namjoon glanced at him, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something came up. But I’m here now. So, no more excuses.”
I could feel Jimin’s eyes on me again, sharp and almost searching, but I kept my gaze ahead, not wanting to react. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much, but there was something about the way he was looking at me, almost like he knew something I didn’t.
The game continued, but now there was a new layer of tension. I could feel Namjoon’s presence weighing down on me, even as he chatted with the others. I tried not to look at him, but I couldn’t help it. Every time I glanced in his direction, he was either talking to someone else or looking at his phone, but there was a part of me that kept waiting for something to happen. What was I waiting for? I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were far from resolved.
And as much as I told myself I should enjoy the night with everyone else, a part of me still wanted to know what Namjoon was thinking, why he’d suddenly shown up, and what it meant for the weird, fake relationship we were trying to make sense of.
The mood in the room was light, with alcohol flowing and teasing picking up. Taehyung, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a devilish grin, clearly enjoying the attention as everyone turned toward him.
"Alright, alright, let’s make this interesting," he said, his eyes scanning the group. "Never have I ever liked a girl in this group." He looked directly at Jungkook, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to drink. "Come on, Jungkook, no skipping this one. You know the rules."
Jungkook immediately rolled his eyes. "Gladly," he muttered, grabbing his drink without hesitation. He downed a shot, then looked at my sister, sending her a flying kiss before turning back to Taehyung. His face tried to stay serious, but he couldn’t hold back the grin tugging at his lips. "Happy now?" he said, clearly playing it off for laughs, but the whole room could tell it was more for fun than anything deeper.
Namjoon was next. He took a sip from his glass, his gaze never leaving mine. I couldn’t help but notice the intensity in his eyes as he drank. I tried to remind myself that he was just continuing the act, that this was still a fake relationship, that we were pretending for everyone else since we hadn’t told them yet the truth about ending it. It was all a game. But something about the way he held my gaze made it harder to believe it was all pretending.
Then, just as I was processing it all, Jimin, of all people, raised his glass. His move was so sudden that it left the whole group stunned into silence. Without a word, he took a shot, his eyes locked on me the entire time, a quiet challenge lingering in his expression.
The room went silent. The tension was palpable. No one knew how to react. Taehyung blinked first, breaking the silence with a loud, surprised laugh.
"Well, I guess we’re all in now," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Looks like we’ve got some secrets floating around in this group."
But I didn’t find it funny. My heart pounded in my chest, the situation suddenly feeling a lot more real than it had a few minutes ago. Jimin’s move was unexpected—why had he done that? And Namjoon... his constant attention, the way he drank right after Jungkook , it felt too intentional. Had I been reading too much into everything? I couldn’t focus on anything else, the weight of the moment hanging heavily between the three of us.
The game continued, but all I could do was watch, trying to ignore the strange mix of emotions that churned inside me. Something had shifted, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.
I excused myself from the game, the weight of everything pressing on me like a physical force. I needed space to breathe, to clear my head, and figure out what was going on in my own heart. My thoughts were spiraling, tangled in Jimin’s unexpected actions and Namjoon’s steady gaze. What did any of this mean? I couldn’t make sense of it, and it was eating away at me.
I made my way toward the guest room, my steps slow and heavy, as if I could outrun the thoughts crashing through my mind. Was Jimin really into me this whole time? Did the plan to make him jealous actually work? What was going on between Namjoon and me? And why did everything feel so... real tonight?
I stepped into the bathroom of a guest room and stood in front of the mirror. The reflection staring back at me didn’t seem like mine anymore, too confused, too lost. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to get away, to clear my mind.
Before I could walk back into the party, I heard the door to the guest room open in front of me. I froze. It was Jimin. I didn’t expect him to follow me, and my heart jumped into my throat.
He stepped in slowly, looking like he was carefully choosing his words. I turned toward him, but I didn’t know what to say. The silence hung heavy between us.
"Y/N," Jimin said, his voice calm, but there was an edge of vulnerability there. "Can we talk?"
I didn’t trust my voice, so I simply nodded, still unsure of what was happening. His presence filled the small room, and my nerves were on fire.
He sighed and took a step closer, clearly thinking about what to say next. "I didn’t expect Namjoon to show up tonight," Jimin began, his voice low and almost distant. "The guys had told me they saw him talking to his ex before he left the studio. I figured he wasn’t going to come, so when he showed up... I was surprised."
I tried to keep my face neutral, but the mention of his ex hit me harder than I expected. The thought of Namjoon with someone else, especially with that ex, was like a punch to the gut. But I stayed quiet, letting Jimin continue.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration creeping into his tone. "But then Jungkook told me something yesterday. About you and Namjoon... about the whole 'fake relationship' thing." He paused, his eyes locking onto mine. "He told me that you two were pretending to make me jealous. That it was all an act."
My heart skipped a beat. Of course, Jungkook would have been the one to spill it. Now, hearing Jimin say it out loud felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over me.
Jimin shifted, his face growing more serious. "At first, I didn’t know what to think when I heard that from him. But then, it hit me." He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "I realized that I’ve been an idiot. I’ve been sitting here, watching you, pretending like I didn’t care, when the truth is, I care more than I’ve ever let on."
He took a breath, and my heart fluttered nervously in my chest. I didn’t know what he was about to say, but it felt like everything had come to this point.
"I’ve liked you for so long, Y/N," Jimin confessed, his voice a little softer now, vulnerable. "But I’ve always been afraid to say anything. Afraid that it would ruin our friendship, that it would change everything between us." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I kept telling myself I wasn’t ready, that it was better left unsaid."
His expression softened, his eyes searching mine. "But watching you with Namjoon tonight and these past couple of months, pretending to be with him, it made me realize how much of a fool I’ve been. I should’ve stepped up sooner, I should’ve told you how I felt." He shook his head, frustration and regret in his voice. "I’ve been too scared, too wrapped up in my own insecurities to take a chance. But I’m done with that, Y/N."
He took another step forward, the space between us closing. "I care about you," he said, his voice steady now, full of sincerity. "I’ve always cared about you. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t. I like you, Y/N. I really like you. And I’m sorry it took me so long to say it."
I stood there, frozen, my chest tightening as his words echoed in my ears. Jimin, the guy I had had a crush on for a long time, had just confessed to me. The weight of his confession settled over me, both a relief and a shock. But there was also confusion, so much confusion. Had I been blind to all of this? Why had he never said anything before? And if I was being honest with myself, did I like him back anymore?
Before I could process everything, Jimin stepped closer, his eyes filled with hope and uncertainty. "So, what do you think?" he asked softly. "I know it’s a lot to take in, but I couldn’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way about you anymore."
I felt my heart racing in my chest, torn between Jimin’s confession and the unresolved feelings I had for Namjoon. I didn’t know how to respond, but I knew one thing for sure: everything had just changed.
I took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage I had left. This wasn’t easy, and I knew it was going to hurt, but I had to be honest with Jimin. I couldn’t keep pretending like everything was okay, like my heart wasn’t pulling in two different directions.
"Jimin," I started, my voice quieter than I intended, but firm. "I need to be honest with you. Yes, it was about you, making you jealous, at first. It was part of the plan, to make you see... make you notice me." I paused, watching his face as he took in my words. His expression shifted, and for a second, I could see the pain in his eyes, but I pushed forward.
"But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about that." I shook my head, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Somewhere along the way, I... I started to fall for Namjoon."
Jimin blinked, his lips parting slightly as if trying to make sense of what I’d just said. His gaze was intense, like he was searching for something in me, an explanation, an apology, I wasn’t sure.
"I don’t blame you for not realizing sooner," I continued, my heart heavy with the truth I was finally saying out loud. "I should’ve said something. I should’ve told you how I felt, instead of waiting around for you to make a move. I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for so long... and I was too scared to admit that I was falling for someone else." I wiped at my eyes, trying to hold it together, but it wasn’t easy.
Jimin’s face softened, his usual mischievous smile gone, replaced with something more vulnerable. "Y/N... I didn’t know," he murmured, his voice low. "I didn’t know you were waiting for me like that. I thought... I thought I had all the time in the world."
I nodded, feeling the weight of my own regrets. "We both did," I whispered. "But maybe it was meant to be this way. Maybe we weren’t supposed to figure this out sooner. Maybe everything that’s happened, all the confusion, the pretending... it was just leading me to this point."
I took a deep breath, feeling like I was freeing myself from something heavy I’d been carrying for far too long. "I like Namjoon now, Jimin. And I don’t know what’s going on with him, with his ex, or whatever. Maybe he’s with her again, maybe not. But I can’t keep holding onto what could’ve been with you, because I’ve realized it’s not just about you anymore."
The silence stretched between us as Jimin absorbed my words. I could see him trying to process everything, his eyes searching my face for any hint of uncertainty. But there was none.
"I’m sorry," I added softly, my voice trembling slightly. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I can’t keep pretending, either. I’ve made my choice."
Jimin finally sighed, his shoulders dropping as if he was releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His eyes met mine, and for the first time, there was no frustration or confusion in them, just a quiet understanding.
"I get it," he said, his voice rough but steady. "I kinda knew I was too late. And maybe... maybe I should have said something sooner too. But I can’t blame you for that. You deserve to be with someone who’s not afraid to take the chance, someone who’s not scared of ruining the friendship. I see that now." He smiled, but it was bittersweet. "And if Namjoon makes you happy, then I’m happy for you. I mean that."
I felt a weight lift off my chest, the tension between us dissolving in that moment. "Thank you," I whispered. "I... I never wanted to hurt you, Jimin. You’re still one of my dearest friends. I just had to be honest with you."
Jimin nodded, his smile softening as he gave me a reassuring look. "I know. And I’ll be okay. I’m not going anywhere, you know? We’ll figure this out, all of us."
The words he said were comforting, but the reality of it all still felt heavy in my chest. I wasn’t sure where things would go from here, but for the first time, I felt like I could breathe again, knowing that I had said what I needed to say, that I had let go of the past.
I took a final, steadying breath and gave him one last, grateful smile. "I’m glad we talked, Jimin. And... I hope things don’t feel too weird between us after this."
"They won’t," he assured me, his eyes soft with understanding. "We’ll be fine. You and me. I just... want you to be happy."
As the conversation came to a close, I took a step back, the weight of it all finally beginning to lift from my shoulders. Jimin and I had said everything we needed to say, and I was starting to feel like I could move on, that this awkward, unresolved tension was finally behind us.
Jimin offered a small, bittersweet smile before opening his arms. "Come here," he said softly, and without thinking, I stepped into his embrace. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t meant to be, but in that moment, it felt like the closure we both needed. I could feel his warmth, his steady presence, and it grounded me in a way that reassured me everything would be okay. We’d move past this, even if things weren’t perfect right now.
I closed my eyes, letting the moment stretch out for a few seconds, savoring the comfort of having things settle between us.
But just as I was starting to relax, I heard the door creak open.
I pulled back instantly, my heart racing as I saw Namjoon standing in the doorway, his eyes wide, mouth slightly parted in shock. His gaze flicked between me and Jimin, lingering on us just long enough for the weight of the situation to hit him too.
It felt like time had frozen for a moment.
"Y/N..." Namjoon said, his voice a little strained. "Jimin...?"
I didn’t know what to say. The look in his eyes made my stomach twist. It wasn’t jealousy exactly, but something like confusion, hurt.
Before he could say anything else, I quickly moved toward him, trying to make sense of the situation, the tension hanging thick in the air.
"I... We need to talk," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I looked at him.
Jimin, sensing the shift headed towards the door. I watched as Jimin left, his footsteps fading as he passed through the hallway, leaving me alone with Namjoon. The silence between us felt like a wall, too heavy to break, but I couldn’t ignore the burning need to face this.
I turned to Namjoon, my throat tight. "We need to talk," I repeated, this time louder, more urgent.
Namjoon nodded, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "Yeah. We do."
"Is this why you didn't tell me what you and Jimin talked about at the party?" Namjoon’s voice was tight, the words coming out sharper than I expected. "Did you get what you wanted, Y/N? Is this why you and him are hugging in a separate room?"
His words hit me like a cold wave, and I felt the sting of them settle deep in my chest. The air between us grew heavy, thick with the weight of his accusation, and I could feel the space between us shrinking in all the wrong ways.
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but nothing came out. His eyes never left mine, and there was something raw, almost broken, in the way he looked at me. It was like he was trying to figure out if he’d been a fool this whole time, if everything we had was just a game to me.
I took a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me. My heart was pounding, but I couldn't just let his words hang in the air like that.
"So, you're gonna judge me for talking to Jimin? After you were spotted with your ex?" I shot back, the words coming out sharper than I meant. "You have no right to say anything about me and Jimin when you’re doing whatever it is you’re doing with her."
The moment I said it, I regretted the bitterness in my tone, but I couldn’t help it. It was like everything inside me was bubbling up all at once, frustration, confusion, and that gnawing ache I’d tried to ignore for so long. Namjoon had been acting like nothing had changed, like he was fine with our arrangement, while I was over here questioning everything. And now he was calling me out like I was the one in the wrong.
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, his gaze faltered. I could see the flicker of guilt, maybe even regret, but it quickly turned into something else, something I couldn’t quite place. Was it anger? Jealousy?
I wasn’t sure, but I knew we were both standing on the edge, and I didn’t know how to pull us back.
Namjoon took a deep breath, his gaze briefly flicking away as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he spoke again, his voice was tight, his words sharper than usual. "Yeah, I met with her," he admitted, frustration evident in his voice. "But it's not what you think. She kept showing up at the company, begging for forgiveness, even after you told her to back off. I couldn’t ignore her anymore. I had to put an end to it, for good."
He paused, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and something else, something that felt too raw for me to understand in the moment.
His next words hit harder than I expected. "I saw you hugging him, Y/N. You got what you wanted, didn’t you? This whole game, this act you and me were playing for him. You wanted to make Jimin jealous, and now it finally worked." His voice wavered, and the words came out harsher than he probably intended, like he was trying to convince himself. "And here I am, watching all of it, like a damn fool."
There was a pause, and the room seemed to shrink with the tension between us. Namjoon stepped even closer, his presence almost overwhelming. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check. "You know what? It worked on me, too," he said, his voice low and pained. "I thought I didn’t care, If you still chose him after everything, but I do. More than I should. I’ve been lying to myself, pretending I didn’t feel anything, but seeing you with him, seeing you so... close... it made me realize how much I care.Why I can’t stop thinking about you”.
His voice broke, and I saw the regret and jealousy in his eyes. "I should’ve kissed you that night, Y/N. After we fought, I should’ve stopped you from leaving, should’ve said something. But I didn’t. I let you walk away, and I regret it every single second. I’ve been kicking myself for it ever since."
The room felt like it was holding its breath, the air thick with everything that had been said, and everything that was left unspoken. Namjoon stood so close, his presence overwhelming, yet it felt like there was still a gap between us, one that neither of us knew how to cross.
I finally found my voice, despite the tightness in my chest. "What’s stopping you now?" I asked, my tone quieter but firm.
Namjoon blinked, his eyes still searching mine, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice a little strained.
I stepped forward just a fraction, closing the distance, and then, with a sense of finality, I answered him. "The moment you saw after you came here, it was us giving closure to our feelings. Yes, it worked. I made Jimin jealous, and he confessed to me. But I turned him down, Namjoon. Because I can't stop thinking about you, too." My heart pounded in my chest, but I pushed through the fear, the uncertainty. "So, let me ask you again: What’s stopping you from kissing me now?"
The question hung in the air, thick and heavy. His eyes were locked on mine, searching, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For a brief moment, time seemed to stop as we stood there, inches apart, the silence between us deafening. I could see the storm of emotions in his gaze, hurt, longing, confusion, and, beneath it all, something that told me he wasn’t ready to walk away. Not this time.
And then, without warning, he took a step closer. His breath mingled with mine as he cupped my face with his large, warm hands. The touch was gentle, but there was a certain urgency to it, a need that seemed to pulse in the very air around us.
His thumb brushed against my cheek, a soft, almost reverent gesture, as if he were memorizing the feel of me under his fingertips. His eyes never left mine, but I could see the way his pupils dilated, the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath he took. And then, as if the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between us finally broke, he closed the distance, his lips crashing into mine with a force that took me by surprise.
The kiss was desperate, hungry, as though he’d been holding back for too long. His lips moved against mine with a raw intensity, a release of all the emotions that had been building between us for so long. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss, as if he couldn’t get enough of me, like he was trying to pour every ounce of feeling he had into that single, electrifying moment.
I responded with my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The world around us seemed to fade away, the tension, the confusion, everything that had been holding us apart, until there was only the two of us. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, as if we were both trying to make up for lost time, to reclaim something we had almost thrown away.
And in that moment, everything else ceased to matter. The only thing that existed was the overwhelming, undeniable connection between us, a connection that no words, no misunderstandings, could ever break.
The kiss grew more passionate, and everything around us faded into a blur. Namjoon’s hands were at my back, guiding me backward until the wall pressed against my shoulders. The warmth of his body, the intensity of his kiss, left me breathless and yearning for more. His lips moved with purpose, each touch sending waves of heat through my body. He pulled away for a split second, his forehead resting against mine as he caught his breath.
"Do you have any idea how long I’ve been thinking about this?" His voice was low, almost a growl, sending a shiver down my spine. "How your lips would feel against mine...I have been dreaming about it since that day on the elevator... no, even before that." He said it with such intensity that it made my heart race, and I couldn't help but wonder what he meant, but the questions would have to wait. I didn’t care to ask them now. All I could focus on was him, the way his lips moved with mine, the way he made me feel.
I arched my back as my head leaned against the wall, and his hands found their way to my waist, lifting me effortlessly off the ground. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as the kiss continued. His lips trailed down to my neck, kissing and biting gently murmuring words like ‘mine’ above my skin between every kiss, sending a mix of pleasure and electricity through my body. Soft moans escaped my lips, and I could feel the heat between us building. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, unable to get enough of him.
But then, a loud crash echoed from the other room, pulling us both out of our haze. We froze for a moment, catching our breath, our faces inches apart.
Namjoon let out a frustrated sigh, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "We can continue this later," he said with a teasing smirk, still holding me tightly against him. "I will make up for every time I didn't kiss you, I promise."
The playful yet possessive undertone in his voice sent a wave of heat through me, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of his words. But for now, we both took a step back, trying to regain some composure as the sound of the broken bottle in the other room faded into the background.
Before we left the room, my fingers nervously tugged at the hem of Namjoon's shirt, a sudden shyness washing over me. The heat from the kiss still lingered on my skin, and the words I needed to say felt heavy on my tongue, almost foreign after everything we’d just shared.
"Namjoon," I started, my voice barely above a whisper as I avoided his gaze for a moment. My heart was racing, my hands slightly trembling as I looked up at him. "I... I want to be with you," I confessed, the words feeling like they had been waiting to escape for so long. "After everything that's happened, I don’t want to be here anymore. I just... I want to be with you. Alone."
He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smile, but there was something tender in his gaze. "You want to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low, as if he were savoring the thought. "Are you sure?"
I nodded, my fingers still clinging to his shirt, my gaze lifting to meet his. "Yeah... I can pretend to be sick. We can just leave together. I don’t want to be around anyone else right now." The idea of being with him, just the two of us, felt like the only thing that made sense in that moment. Everything else, the party, the other people, suddenly felt so far away.
Namjoon’s expression softened, and he placed a hand gently on my cheek, as if grounding me in the moment. "If that’s what you want, we’ll leave Y/N." he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Let’s go."
I smiled, relief flooding through me as I took his hand. We didn’t need any more words. We were finally on the same page.
As Namjoon and I walked back into the room, the weight of everything between us still lingering in the air, we were met with curious glances from the group. My sister was the first to notice me, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the flush on my face, the way I clung a little too tightly to Namjoon’s side.
"Y/N?" she asked, her voice soft, but there was a hint of suspicion in her tone. "Are you okay? You look... a little off."
I blinked, quickly thinking of something to say. My mind was still clouded from everything that had just happened, but I needed to get out of there, needed to get away from all the questions and awkward tension.
"I... I feel a bit tipsy," I said, offering a small, apologetic smile. "I think I need to head out first. It’s been a long night."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly still a bit skeptical. But before she could ask more, Namjoon stepped in, his voice smooth and calm.
"I already ordered an Uber for us," he said, his hand gently resting on my lower back, as if to reassure her. "We’ll head to my place. Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine."
Jimin, Jungkook, and my sister exchanged glances, clearly surprised, but they didn’t press further. After a beat, Jungkook nodded, his usual easygoing smile returning.
"Take care, Y/N. Hope you feel better," he said, giving me a quick wave.
"Yeah, feel better," Jimin added.
My sister’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, but then she sighed, shrugging as if she’d decided there was nothing to do about it.
"Alright, take care of yourself," she said, giving Namjoon a quick nod, as if accepting the situation. "Don’t do anything too crazy, okay?"
I smiled weakly, feeling a mix of guilt and relief at her words. It was like she knew, but she didn’t. Either way, she was letting me go, letting me make my own choices.
With that, we exchanged goodbyes, and Namjoon and I walked out, hand in hand, the door shutting softly behind us.
As we left the party, the world outside felt like a breath of fresh air. The night was cool, the streets relatively quiet. But all I could think about was what had just happened between us. Everything that had been left unsaid before now felt so clear. There was no going back now.
And as the Uber pulled up and we climbed inside, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. The uncertainty was gone. Whatever had been between us, whatever it was that had kept us apart, had finally clicked into place. And now, as the city lights blurred by the window, I knew that whatever came next, I’d be ready for it, with Namjoon by my side.
***
As we stepped into Namjoon’s apartment, a comfortable silence settled between us. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything that had just happened. He closed the door behind us, his hand resting on the doorknob for a moment as he turned to face me.
“So,” he began softly, his eyes meeting mine, “are you… really okay with this? With us?”
I felt a shy smile tug at my lips. “I’ve never been more sure.” My voice was soft, but I meant every word. I was here, and I didn’t want to turn back. “What about you? Are you… okay with all this?”
Namjoon let out a low laugh, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. “I think I’ve been waiting for this, waiting for you, for longer than I ever realised.” There was a warmth in his gaze, something so honest that it made my heart skip a beat.
We moved further into the room, and he gestured for me to sit. “Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?”
I nodded, chuckling nervously. “Tea sounds good. Something calming, maybe?”
He flashed me a knowing smile and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me to take in my surroundings. I’d been here before, once late at night for our date, but I hadn’t paid much attention then, too caught up in the moment with him. Now, with a moment to breathe, I could see pieces of his personality everywhere, books stacked on the shelves and in piles on the floor, his collection of vinyl records carefully arranged next to the coffee table. It all felt so unmistakably him.
A few moments later, he returned with two steaming mugs, setting one in front of me. As he sat down next to me on the couch, close enough that our knees brushed, he looked at me with a more serious expression.
“Can I ask… when did it change for you?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper. “When did you know you felt something for me?”
I took a slow sip of tea, hoping it would help me organize the mess of emotions inside. “Honestly?” I hesitated, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “I think it was always there, in some way.”
He tilted his head slightly, watching me closely, and I felt my heart skip at his quiet attention.
“I mean, I liked Jimin, yes… but when I first met all of you, you were the one that caught my eye. But I found out pretty quickly that you had a girlfriend back then, so I pushed the thought away and settled on seeing you as just a friend.”
Namjoon’s eyes softened as I spoke, and it gave me a bit of courage to keep going. We both set our mugs down on the table, the warmth of the tea long forgotten as the weight of our words filled the space between us.
“But when we started pretending…” I paused, looking down at my hands. “It felt more real than I expected. I kept telling myself it was just for show, just a game we were playing. But the more time we spent together, the harder it was to pretend it didn’t mean anything.”
I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t say anything because I was afraid. Afraid I’d misread it, or that I’d just end up… hurting you, or myself.”
He reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I wish I realised sooner.”
I felt his thumb tracing soft circles on my hand, the warmth of his touch anchoring me in the moment. His quiet reassurance, the way he looked at me, it was all starting to melt away any lingering doubts I had.
“Well, we’re here now,” he repeated softly, his gaze steady and full of something I could only describe as understanding, and maybe relief.
I managed a small, nervous smile. “Yeah, we are.”
There was a beat of silence, comfortable and calm. Then, taking a breath, he lifted his other hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "And now that we’re here,” he murmured, his voice a little lower, “I think we both deserve to stop second-guessing ourselves."
He paused, his eyes searching mine. “We don’t have to pretend anymore. No more games, no more hidden feelings. Just… us.”
My heart raced at his words, the weight of everything finally lifting. I looked down at our intertwined hands, feeling a warmth bloom in my chest. “No more pretending,” I echoed, feeling the truth of it settle over me. I met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at my lips.
“So… where do we start?” I asked, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves, savouring the closeness.
Namjoon’s smile softened as he shifted closer, his eyes warm with that familiar spark. “How about we start fresh?” he murmured, and then, leaning in, he pressed his lips to mine, a tender, lingering kiss that felt like a quiet promise, a beginning we’d both been waiting for.
He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching mine, before leaning in again, his lips brushing softly over mine, testing, savoring. Slowly, his hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers tracing gentle circles, and I felt him draw me in closer. This time, the kiss deepened naturally, as though all the unspoken feelings between us were finally finding their way through, leaving my heart racing in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
It felt as though we were back in that moment in the guest room, but this time, without the weight of uncertainty between us. His hands were gentle yet sure, tracing down my back, leaving warmth in their wake. The kiss grew bolder, a mix of all the moments we’d held back, and I felt my own hands grip the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer.
We broke apart just briefly, his forehead resting against mine, both of us catching our breath, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"I was thinking of ordering us something," he murmured, his voice a low whisper that sent a thrill through me. His gaze locked onto mine, dark and filled with intent, and I could feel the tension building between us again.
"But dinner can wait," he added, his words dripping with warmth, making my heart race. "Right now, all I want is you."
With that, his lips found mine again, a bit hungrier this time, and I let myself melt into it, matching his intensity as the moment wrapped around us, everything else falling away.
As the kiss deepened, my hands slid up to his chest, fingers brushing over the firm muscles that were hidden beneath his shirt. I could feel the strong beat of his heart, and I couldn't help but smile against his lips, knowing the effect I was having on him.
Namjoon’s breath hitched slightly as I gently tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head with a growing sense of urgency. The cool air brushed against his skin, and I let my fingers trace the contours of his muscles, marveling at how solid and defined he was. He shivered slightly under my touch, his body reacting to me in ways that made my heart race.
"Y/N..." he breathed, his voice a low growl of pleasure as I ran my hands down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath my fingertips. "You don't know what you do to me."
A soft moan escaped his lips as my touch moved lower, the heat between us intensifying with each passing second. He pulled me closer, his hands sliding to my back, pulling me flush against him and laying me on the couch. Our bodies pressed together, and I felt his desire, undeniable and powerful, pressing into me.
I broke the kiss just long enough to look up at him, my breathing shallow as I let my hands roam, feeling every inch of him. His eyes were dark, his lips swollen from our kiss, and he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment.
"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving to my waist, slipping beneath my shirt, his touch warm and electric against my skin.
I gasped softly as his fingers skimmed the skin of my back, sending a wave of heat through me. My hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, and we resumed kissing, this time with more urgency. The world outside of the room didn’t exist anymore, there was only Namjoon, and the undeniable pull between us.
We continued, caught in the heat of the moment, kisses growing more passionate, more desperate as we lost ourselves in each other. Time seemed to stand still, and all that mattered was the connection we were building, one that felt right, real, and unlike anything I had ever experienced before.
Namjoon pulled out for a bit to catch a breath and leaned in closer again , his breath warm against my skin as he gazed down at me, his fingers brushing gently along the fabric of my shirt. His voice was low, smooth, and filled with a quiet intensity.
"Can I?" he asked, his eyes flickering between my chest and my eyes, seeking permission with the unspoken question.
I nodded, my heart racing, feeling the heat of the moment building between us. There was no rush, just the weight of our emotions and the pull between us. Slowly, he slid his hands to the hem of my shirt, his touch reverent, as if he was savouring every inch of the space between us.
As the shirt lifted over my head, I could feel the electricity between us intensifying. Namjoon didn’t break eye contact. He looked me up and down, enjoying the image. “So perfect, just for me...” His gaze was unwavering, filled with something deeper than desire, something more intimate. His lips parted, but before they could meet mine again, he lowered his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my neck, his lips tracing the curve of my skin.
I arched into him, my fingers threading through his hair. The kiss from his lips moved down my throat, then between my breasts, and continued further down to my stomach. He stopped just above my heat, still covered by my pants, sending a surge of warmth through me.
Then, as his lips came back up to mine, my hands reached for his belt, never breaking the kiss. My fingers fumbled with it briefly, but soon it was undone, he helped me push his trousers down. He kicked them off swiftly, and moved to undoing my trousers, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked them off my body. As he traced his fingers along the inner part of my thigh, his lips continued their journey down my skin, sending electric jolts of anticipation through me.
Now, we were both only in our underwear. Namjoon hovered above me, his eyes meeting mine with a silent question, a flicker of hesitation in his gaze as he sought my consent. I nodded, breathlessly. With that, he placed a hand on my back, unclipping my bra slowly, as if savouring the moment. He slid it off with ease, his hands now fully free to roam.
His touch was firm yet tender as he cupped both of my breasts, his fingers gently kneading them while his lips found the spot below my ear, murmuring sweet words against it. His breath was hot against me, the weight of his words sending waves of desire down my spine. I could feel his body pressing into mine, his clothed groin humping me, the heat between us building again.
“Joon” I moaned. “I think I need you now.” My body felt hotter by each second that was passing.
“I know, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and intense. “Just let me pleasure you more first. Let me take care of you.”
He continued with his move again, not breaking eye contact as his hand travelled down, hovering just above my heat. Gently, he moved my panties to the side and slid one finger in. He retracted it and put the finger in his mouth.
“So wet…so sweet” Namjoon murmured, licking the slickness from his finger. I gasped from the pleasure as he went back and slid in another finger, both now moving in and out. Then he began using a scissoring motion, working in perfect rhythm. When he added a third finger, my vision blurred.
“Ah… I think I’m close,” I managed to gasp.
“Then come for me, Y/N,” he urged, finding that perfect spot that made me tremble. A high-pitched cry escaped me as I reached my climax, releasing everything that had built up inside. But it was not enough. I needed more of him.
“Namjoon, you either fuck me right now or else—”
“Or else what?” he teased, smiling and hoovering on top of me.
“I—I don’t know. I’ll probably fuck myself again with my own fingers if I can,” I breathed.
“As much as I’d love to see you do that, I think that can wait a little,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
Before I could protest, he scooped me into a bridal position and rose to his feet.
“I’d be lying if I didn’t say I almost fucked you right here, when you were calling my name. But as much as I want to, I’d like to make you comfortable first, in my bed,” he said, walking toward his room.
A few moments later, I felt the soft cold mattress behind my back as Namjoon placed me down hovering again on top of me. I looked up and slowly averted my gaze down toward his bulge, it looked big and hard, his member almost ripping off his underwear. Both breathing heavily I came forward again and caught his lips against mine. But that didn't last long as Joon put some distance and quickly gave me a peck on the forehead.
‘’Fuck”’ Namjoon hisses under his breath.”’Look at you so perfectly layed on my bed” his eyes continuing to roam my body, and when they reached a particular part my female hood, I decided to tease him further and sliding my panties slowly to the side while under him. His eyes returned to me for a bit and then back to where my hands were occupied. Silence creeped all over the room and only the beating of our heart and breaths could be heard. There I was now all bare under him, soaking wet anchoring for his touch.
“Fuck... Y/N… You have no idea, do you? The effect you have on me. God only knows how many times these walls have heard your name these past weeks.”
“So... you mean... you did that?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice thick with need. “Even in my dreams, all I could see was you. I’ve craved you every day since we started this whole ‘fake’ thing. And now...” He trailed off, his gaze intense. “I’m going to make you feel good, baby. I—”
“Fuck, Joon… just fuck me already, please.” I pleaded, unable to stand the teasing, the intense gaze, and all the compliments any longer. Just the sound of his smooth, raspy voice had me close to reaching my second orgasm.
“Someone’s needy… and ruining that pretty little mouth for me,” he murmured.
“If you let me, I think you'd be surprised at what else this mouth can do,” I replied with a smirk.
“Oh?...than I better fuck you now so you can show me all of that later”
Namjoon stretched his arm to my right, above my head, reaching for his nightstand. He opened the top drawer and took a condom out of the box. I didn’t even question it—he’s a grown man, after all, and probably has a lot of experience with this.
Still, I felt a little shy. It wasn’t my first time, but thinking about it all made me feel a hint of pressure. I quickly pushed that thought away, I liked Namjoon a lot, and he seemed to like me too. My eyes shifted to his actions as I tried to stay in the moment.
He slipped out of his boxers, and his thick, hard length sprang free, red and glistening with precum.
"Shit, Joon..." I whimpered, looking up into his eyes.
"What?" he asked with a smirk, clearly amused by my reaction.
“You’re huge... How is that going to fit?” Embarrassment crept up my cheeks.
“You’ll get used to it,” he murmured, his voice low and confident.
If my face had been red before, now my whole body felt on fire. But I wasn’t about to let him think this was too easy for me.
“You sound so cocky… What if you end up disappointing?” I teased, laughing softly and covering my mouth.
Namjoon’s grin widened as he rolled the condom on, then slid two fingers into me without warning. I gasped, muffling the sound with my hand, thankful I’d caught it, or the whole neighbourhood might have heard.
"Let’s just say you chose the right member, love... the one that’ll make you scream the loudest.” he murmured.
I couldn’t respond, only nodding as he began to move his fingers, preparing me for what was to come. He met my eyes, waiting for my signal, and when I nodded again, he slowly replaced his fingers with his thick length, easing himself in.
If I hadn’t seen stars by then, I certainly was now. One push, and I was already crying out from the stretch.
“Fuck, so tight, so perfect... Y/N, tell me if it hurts,” he whispered, voice rough.
But I was too lost in pleasure to respond, only nodding and moving with him as he began to thrust, each movement filling the room with our heavy breaths, pants, and the sound of skin meeting skin.
Namjoon lifted one of my legs, hooking it over his shoulder, and suddenly, he was hitting a deeper spot that made me see white.
I wouldn’t be surprised if my legs ended up bruised. Longing for his lips again, I reached up and captured his mouth, losing myself in the kiss.
Tongues and teeth met as we kissed until Namjoon broke away, gasping for air. “You take me so well, Y/N… like your body…” His fingers traced circles over my clit. “This pussy… was made for me.”
I couldn’t respond, just nodding and crying out in pleasure. The way Namjoon made me feel, the way he moved inside me, it was like we were perfectly made for each other. Everything that had come before led to this moment, us becoming one.
Thrust after thrust, kiss after kiss, I lost all sense of time.
Not until Namjoon said against my neck “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” he panted.
“Then let go,” I whispered.
“Y/N, I’m about to—”
“Me too.”
And with that, we came together, bodies pressed close, shuddering in sync as the last waves of pleasure passed over us.
Namjoon pulled out, quickly removed the condom, and tied it off before stepping out of bed.
Moments later, he returned, gently wiping me clean with a warm towel. His movements were soft, careful, as if he were savoring each moment. I watched him in silence, feeling a strange mix of bliss and tenderness settle over me. Once he finished, he tossed the towel aside and lay back down beside me, pulling me into his arms.
We stayed like that, wrapped in each other, letting our breathing slow in sync. His fingers traced gentle patterns along my shoulder, and I closed my eyes, melting into the warmth of his embrace.
"So," I said, breaking the silence with a teasing smile, "I guess the sex wasn’t that bad after all."
Namjoon laughed softly, looking at me with a raised brow. “Oh really? Just not that bad? I thought I was pretty damn good.”
I grinned, poking his chest playfully. “You were good. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Perfect. There’s still a lot I could teach you.”
His expression shifted, and I saw that familiar smirk spread across his face. “Is that so? I’d love to see what you’ve got in mind, Y/N,” he teased, his voice low and filled with mock confidence.“Does it have anything to do with that pretty mouth of yours?”
“Careful now, Joon. I won't give you the satisfaction just yet,” I teased back, running a finger down his chest. “Besides, you’ve had a lot of practice pretending, but a real relationship with me is a whole different thing, you know?”
Namjoon’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in, brushing his lips against my ear. “Oh, I’m not pretending anymore, love. And I think we’ve got a real thing going here. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
I laughed, a little breathless from the way his words made me feel. “I think I can handle it. You just better keep up.”
He chuckled, pulling me closer, his lips brushing against mine in a brief but tender kiss. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that. But I’ll be sure to keep you on your toes.”
“Good,” I whispered, my smile playful as I looked up at him. “Because if you can’t keep me entertained, I know someone who can.”
He growled softly, pulling me closer, his arms tightening around me. “You’re really trying to make me jealous, huh?”
I smirked, teasing him further. “Maybe I am.”
Namjoon’s expression softened, but there was still that edge of possessiveness in his eyes. “You’re mine now, Y/N. Let’s make sure you don’t forget that.”
And with that, it seemed like Joon and I were bound to continue, losing ourselves in each other throughout the night.
***
The morning sun crept in through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. I stirred, feeling Namjoon’s arm wrapped around me, our fingers loosely entwined as we lay facing each other. His eyes were still closed, a relaxed expression softening his features. I smiled, gently tracing my thumb over his knuckles, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth and contentment.
As if sensing my gaze, Namjoon’s eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
“Morning,” I replied, a little shy as I tightened my hold on his hand. We lay in silence for a few moments, just taking in the comfort of being close, his fingers absently tracing small circles along my back. I layed there with him, enjoying the quiet simplicity of the moment, feeling like we didn’t need any words to understand what we were both feeling.
After a while, a thought crossed my mind, and I couldn’t resist asking. “You know… I’ve been meaning to ask,” I started, my voice barely above a whisper, “you mentioned you liked me a while back. Was it… that time during our date, when we played Two Truths and a Lie, and you mentioned that you had a crush on someone… Was that me?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as his thumb continued to stroke along my spine. “Yes, but” he said, looking into my eyes with a gentle smile. “It was actually before that, long before.”
Namjoon’s eyes held mine as he gathered his thoughts, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know if I ever told you this, but the first time I saw you, it wasn’t like anything I expected. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, you just… had this ease about you that made everyone around you feel comfortable. It got to me.”
His fingers traced light patterns along my face now as he spoke. “Back then, I was with my ex, so I didn’t dwell on it too much. But even so, there was this… spark of curiosity, you know? Like, I wanted to understand what made you, you.” His smile grew fonder, his eyes distant, lost in the memory.
I felt my cheeks warm at his confession, my heart racing as I watched him speak. “And then… when my relationship ended, it felt like I was finally allowing myself to really notice you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “But by then, I could tell you had your eyes set on Jimin. And I’ll be honest, it bugged me a little. I just couldn’t shake this feeling that he was missing something… how foolish he was not to notice you”.
I could see the faintest hint of frustration flash in his eyes“ And I don’t know, maybe it was selfish, but… I wanted you to look at me that way. It started small at first, just these little moments where I’d think about you, or catch myself looking for you at gatherings. Then, when I’d see you laughing at something he said, I’d feel this pang of… jealousy.”
He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and filled with something raw. “When I saw you on that balcony, smoking and looking lost in your thoughts, I couldn’t help but wonder what was on your mind. And I thought, why not make my move? If Jimin was too blind to see you, maybe I’d have a chance. Even if it was selfish, even if I was coming in knowing you liked someone else… I just wanted you to see me, notice me, even if I had to pretend at first.”
Namjoon paused, looking down at our hands, his thumb stroking softly over my knuckles now. “I guess that was when I realised… pretending or not, I just wanted you to feel about me the way I felt about you.”
His honesty made my heart swell, and I was at a loss for words. I could see in his eyes that every word was real, and in that moment, I knew he was letting me see a part of him he rarely showed anyone else.
My heart pounded as his words sank in, the honesty and vulnerability behind them making my chest tighten with emotion.
“Guess it was lucky for me that Jimin never noticed, then,” I whispered with a soft smile, and he chuckled, his forehead pressing gently against mine.
“Lucky for both of us,” he murmured, his gaze warm and full of promise.
“This still feels like a dream,” I said softly, my gaze drifting over his face. “These past two months, and then last night… it all feels unreal.”
“Feels pretty real to me,” Namjoon replied.
I grinned, unable to resist a tease. “You know,” I murmured, leaning in slightly, “for someone who was so sure of himself last night, you seemed pretty determined to impress me.”
Namjoon’s brow arched, and he chuckled, squeezing my hand. “Determined? Or just confident?”
I let out a laugh. “Confident? Maybe,” I said, grinning. “But I’d say you were pretty eager to prove yourself.”
“Oh, is that so?” he asked, his voice low and playful, as his fingers continued to trace gentle patterns along my hand. “Sounds to me like you enjoyed every second.”
I bit my lip, raising a brow. “I don’t know, Mr. Kim. You may have to convince me again.”
Namjoon’s eyes sparkled, his hand slipping around my waist, pulling me a little closer. “Careful, Y/N. If you keep teasing me, I might just have to make it my mission to remind you all day,” he murmured, his lips hovering close to mine, a playful challenge lighting up his gaze.
I smirked, raising an eyebrow. “How about I take charge today instead?”
A flicker of curiosity sparked in his eyes, and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the idea. Instead, he leaned back slightly, watching me with a smirk of his own as I moved even closer, letting the suggestion linger between us.
We were still both very much naked from last night, with only the sheet draped over us. I shifted slightly, lifting myself just enough to reach toward his nightstand on my left, remembering from last night that this was where he kept the condoms, or at least, I was pretty sure that’s where they were.
Namjoon’s smirk deepened as he watched me, clearly intrigued. "Oh, I’m all yours," he murmured, his tone full of invitation. He leaned back further against the headboard, keeping his arms folded behind his head, completely giving in to the moment.
As I inched closer, I took my time, savouring the way his eyes never left mine, his gaze filled with a mix of amusement and anticipation. I slowly opened the wrapper, letting the silence hang between us, thick with tension and a playful edge. His breathing grew just a little heavier, betraying his calm facade. His cock hard and dripping already as I slid the wrapper over him.
“Looks like someone’s enjoying the view,” I teased, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder as I positioned myself just above him.
He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Well, you’re making it hard not to.” He raised an eyebrow, letting his gaze roam over me.
I smirked, letting my fingers trail slowly down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. "Oh, am I?" I whispered, tilting my head as I looked at him, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Because I could always take my time... really draw this out. Make you wait."
Namjoon’s gaze darkened, his smirk widening as he tried to keep his composure. “You think I’d let you get away with that?” he murmured, but there was a challenge in his tone that only encouraged me.
I leaned in, letting my lips brush against his neck, my breath warm against his skin. "I don’t think you’re in any position to stop me, actually," I teased, pressing a few light kisses along his jaw, my hands tracing down his sides, deliberately slow.
A low chuckle escaped him, and he tilted his head slightly to give me more access, his hands resting on my hips but making no move to stop me. “Careful,” he whispered, his voice soft but intense. “I might just lose my patience.”
“Then I guess you’ll just have to wait and see how long you can hold out,” I replied, brushing my lips just over his, close enough to feel the warmth, but keeping just enough distance to keep him guessing.
I held his gaze, letting a playful smile spread across my lips as I positioned myself, teasingly closer. Leaning in, I pressed my body against his, letting him feel the warmth but still holding back. I could feel his hands tighten around my waist as his breathing grew heavier, his gaze intense with anticipation and just a hint of frustration.
Slowly, I sank down, letting him feel the barest hint of contact, then just as quickly lifted myself back up, watching his reaction. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing with a mix of desire and impatience. “You’re really testing me here,” he muttered, his voice rough, a little desperate.
I smiled at his frustration, feeling the power shift in my favour as I teased him further. "Oh, but I like watching you squirm," I whispered, my voice light, yet dripping with the tension of the moment. I lowered myself just enough to feel the brush of him against me, but pulled away before it could escalate.
Namjoon let out a frustrated groan, his hands gripping my hips with an intensity that bordered on desperate. His eyes were burning with need, and I could see the control he was trying to maintain slipping away. "Y/N... please..." His voice was rough, almost pleading, and it sent a thrill through me.
I raised an eyebrow, enjoying the way he was unravelling before me. "Please what?" I teased, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered the words.
He froze for a moment, a conflicted look crossing his features before he finally let out a frustrated breath. "Please, don't make me beg," he muttered, his voice thick with want. "I can't take much more of this."
The challenge in his tone only made me smile wider. "Oh, but I think you can," I murmured, my fingers tracing his jawline as I leaned in close again, lips barely brushing his. "Beg for it, Namjoon."
The raw edge of his voice when he finally responded—"Please, Y/N, I need you..."—was all the confirmation I needed. The desperation in his eyes, the way his body tensed and trembled beneath me, made it impossible to resist. I slowly lowered myself once more, this time not pulling away.
When I sank down, both of us moaned in unison, the sound filling the air between us. I started moving up and down, the rhythm slow at first, but I could feel Namjoon trying to hold back his moans, his control slipping. He couldn't contain it anymore, and he began moaning my name, deep and desperate.
“Y/N…”
“Yeah?” I barely replied, my voice a whisper.
“I am yours, Y/N…”
The sound of it sent a rush of heat through me, and I found myself doing the same, moaning his name as I picked up the pace, moving faster and more urgently. He tightened his grip on my hips, his fingers digging in as he helped me move faster, the thrusts harsher now, each one more powerful than the last. His lips travelled down my neck and chest, and he began to play with my breasts, his kisses trailing down my body, sending waves of pleasure through me. My hands ran down his back, nails lightly scratching his skin as he groaned into me, his body pressing harder against mine.
He groaned my name again, the sound low and desperate, making my body tremble in response. I could feel the heat building inside of me, the pleasure spiralling with every move. I arched into him, feeling his teeth graze my skin, the sensation causing my legs to shake.
My hands roamed up to his hair, tugging him closer, pulling him into a kiss that was as urgent as everything else between us. His tongue met mine, hungry and demanding. The heat between us was unbearable now, the tension mounting, and I could feel myself getting closer to the edge with every passing second.
“You’re in control, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Take what you want.”
His mouth was parted, a low growl escaping him as he groaned, his eyes dark with need.
“God, Y/N, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, his fingers digging into my skin. “Don’t stop, don’t slow down.”
I leaned down, pressing my chest against his, our lips brushing together briefly before I lifted myself again, the sensation of him filling me overwhelming. His hands slid to my back, pulling me closer, pressing me into him as he thrust up in time with my movements, making me gasp.
“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Namjoon breathed out. “I can’t... I can’t hold back much longer.”
“Say my name,” I whispered, my voice sultry as I rode him even faster.
“Y/N!” Namjoon gasped, his body trembling beneath me. “Y/N, please… don’t stop.”
The desperation in his voice made me smile, and I pushed myself to go even faster, each thrust more powerful than the last. I could feel myself getting closer, the pressure in my lower stomach tightening as I moved with him, both of us chasing that inevitable release.
“Fuck, Y/N… I’m so close…” Namjoon groaned, his hands gripping my ass harder, his body arching into mine as he kept me in place, him buried deep inside, grinding back and forth, stimulating my clit with every move. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to keep his composure.
“Me too,” I panted, my voice breathless as I leaned down to kiss him, our lips crashing together in a desperate, hungry kiss. I kept riding him, faster now, each motion pushing us both closer to the edge. “Don’t stop, Namjoon... keep going...”
“I won’t,” he muttered, his voice rough, his hands pressing me down onto him harder, pushing us both to the brink. “Fuck, Y/N... I’m going to...”
His body tensed beneath me, and I felt the tight coil inside me snap as I let out a low moan, the pleasure rushing through me, making my vision blur for a moment. Namjoon followed right after, his grip tightening on me as he groaned my name, his release overwhelming him.
We both collapsed, breathless and spent, our bodies still tangled together, as the tension finally eased, leaving us in the aftermath of everything. I rested against his chest, trying to catch my breath, his heart still pounding beneath my ear.
"God," he whispered softly, his fingers gently running through my hair, his voice hushed but full of satisfaction. "That was... incredible."
I smiled, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the quiet settle between us as we tried to slow our breathing.
***
After, we showered together, the water cascading down our bodies, we shared a peaceful silence, the steam fogging up the bathroom. There was an unspoken comfort between us, the quiet intimacy of helping each other wash our bodies. The moments that would normally feel awkward or rushed felt so natural with him, every touch between us a wordless connection that I hadn't realised I was craving.
When we finally stepped out, the warmth of the room met our damp skin, and I reached for a towel, drying my hair as Namjoon looked at me with that familiar concern.
"Let me help you with your hair," he said softly, stepping closer.
I gave him a playful smile, brushing the towel through my hair. “It’s fine, Namjoon. I got it,” I reassured him, wanting to do it myself since I knew it would take a while to dry.
He chuckled, clearly not ready to stop being helpful. “Okay, then how about I make us some coffee? You probably need it after all that…” His words trailed off with a grin, but there was a hint of awkwardness in his tone, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to go from here.
“Sounds good,” I said, reaching for one of his shirts hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was oversized, the fabric soft and warm as I pulled it over my head, a small comfort against my still-damp skin. It felt right, almost like it was meant for me.
As Namjoon turned toward the kitchen, I couldn’t help but linger for a moment, watching him walk away. His broad shoulders and the way his muscles flexed with each step had my heart racing. I felt this undeniable pull to him, and the shirt I wore only made me feel closer, more connected to him. It was like I was already a part of his world, and that realisation made me smile, despite the growing rush in my chest.
I entered the kitchen, stopping in front of him to get his attention. The sight of me in his shirt, with nothing but my bare legs showing, made him freeze for a second. His eyes darkened, and the intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore. He swallowed hard, the breath hitching in his throat as he looked me up and down, as if trying to decide whether he could keep his composure or if he was going to lose himself.
Before I could say anything, he stepped toward me, and with one swift motion, he lifted me up onto the kitchen counter, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was desperate and full of hunger.
“You look so good in my shirt…” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and raspy. “I don’t think I can get enough of you.”
His hands roamed to my waist, pulling me closer and I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, the heat between us escalating in an instant.
But just as things started to get more heated, the sound of a phone ringing broke through the thick tension in the room. I pulled away just slightly, eyes narrowing as I tried to figure out whose phone it was. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath. It could’ve been Jungkook, or worse, my sister. Neither of them had heard from me since I’d come back here with Namjoon, and I knew they’d be worried by now. We hadn’t texted them about anything, not even letting them know I was still here.
Namjoon, looking just as frustrated at the interruption, gave me a brief kiss on the forehead before pulling away. “I’ll grab our phones,” he said, his voice heavy with need but also that underlying concern for what was going on outside the bubble we’d created for ourselves.
I slid back down from the counter, standing with my legs shaky from the intensity of our kiss. Namjoon went to grab the phones from the living room, and I quickly adjusted my shirt, feeling the sudden awkwardness of the situation hit me.
Namjoon returned with both phones in hand, and I glanced at the screen of mine, seeing the name that immediately caused my stomach to flip, my sister. I let out a deep breath before answering, holding the phone to my ear while my eyes stayed locked on Namjoon, who was now back at the counter, making coffee as though nothing had happened.
"Hey," I said into the phone, trying to sound casual, but there was a slight quiver in my voice that betrayed me.
“Y/N, are you still at Namjoon’s?” My sister’s voice was laced with concern. “I’ve been calling, texting, you didn’t answer any of my messages. We were getting worried!”
I glanced at Namjoon again, and his eyes were on me. There was no judgement, just an understanding in his gaze.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, speaking into the phone while my eyes never left Namjoon. I couldn’t help but smile at the way he moved about the kitchen so casually, so unaffected by what we’d just experienced. “I’m still at Namjoon’s, okay? I promise, I’ll explain everything later.”
My sister didn’t sound fully convinced, but she let out a small sigh. “Alright, just call me when you’re back. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I will,” I assured her, hanging up after a brief exchange of more pleasantries. I looked over at Namjoon, who had just finished making the coffee and was now smiling coming towards me.
His smile was effortless, revealing his adorable dimples, and there was a warmth in his gaze that deepened with every moment we shared. As I stood there, the realisation slowly crept in that everything was finally falling into place. Soon, we'd have to explain everything to the group, the fake dating, the misunderstandings, and everything that led us to this point. Sure, some details would be left out, things that didn’t need to be said, but it no longer mattered. What mattered now was what we had here, right in this moment, real, unfiltered, and undeniable.
With Namjoon, everything felt authentic. There was no pretending, no uncertainty. For the first time, I didn’t have to second-guess myself or him. I was falling for him in a way I hadn’t expected, and this time, it wasn’t for show. It wasn’t a story we were playing out for anyone else. This was real. This was ours. And as I stood there with him, I knew that this was the beginning of something new, something I never wanted to let go of.
Summary: Suga of BTS is on the edge, racing against the clock to finish his solo album. With just three songs left to complete and a looming deadline, he's struggling to find inspiration. In a last-minute move, his company pairs him with the highly secretive Producer K, a renowned but elusive figure in the music industry. Everyone assumes Producer K is a male, but when Suga meets the mysterious producer, he's shocked to discover that K is actually a talented and confident woman. As they collaborate, the line between professional and personal begins to blur. Their chemistry is undeniable, but with a ticking clock and the pressure to deliver, can they finish the album on time? Or will their growing connection derail everything they've worked for? Secrets, passion, and music. Can Suga keep his focus, or will Producer K. change everything?
A/N: I miss these two already!! 🥺 This story was highly influenced by me having Yoongi's SDL and Reed Wonder's The machine on repeat. Hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I did writing it! Let me know your thoughts 💕.
The soft hum of equipment filled the studio, punctuated by the click-clack of Yoongi's keyboard. His desk was a mess of coffee cups, scribbled notes, and sheet music—proof of hours spent chasing inspiration that eluded him.
"Hyung," a staff member, Jihoon, said cautiously, standing near the doorway. "I think we need to talk about your album. Specifically, the last tracks you’re stuck on."
Yoongi swivelled his chair, eyebrows knitting together. "I'm not stuck," he said sharply. "I just need time."
"You have three months before the release date," Jihoon reminded him. "And right now, three of the songs don’t have melodies. You’ve been staring at the lyrics for weeks."
Yoongi sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "I’m working on it."
Jihoon hesitated, holding back a smirk. "The team suggested bringing in another producer."
Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. "I don’t need help. This is my album. I’ve handled everything myself before, haven’t I?"
"This time, we’re short on time," Jihoon countered. "And we’re talking about Prod. K. He’s incredible! The guy with the minimalist beats and genre-blending compositions. Even you’ve praised his work."
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I praised the music, not the person. And I don’t work with strangers, especially ones I’ve never even met."
"It’s non-negotiable, hyung." Jihoon sighed. "The higher-ups already agreed. We’re bringing him in to collaborate."
"Bringing him in?" Yoongi repeated, his tone laced with sarcasm. "I’ve never even seen his face. For all I know, he could be some arrogant newbie."
Jihoon smirked, his gaze flickering with amusement Yoongi didn’t appreciate. "Lets not judge, just wait until you meet him."
Yoongi grumbled, turning back to his monitor. "Fine. But don’t expect me to make this easy for him. And when he leaves because I’m too ‘difficult,’ you can tell the higher-ups they were wrong."
~~ Y/N POV ~~
"Are you out of your mind?!" I hissed, pacing the small office where my team had dropped the bombshell of the century. "To collaborate with Suga of BTS in person? Sure, it’s an honor, but that’s a no from me. If my identity gets leaked, the fact that I’m a woman, working with him in some tiny studio, any sasaeng will have me on their hit list before I even step out the door."
My manager, Minji, leaned back in her chair, arms crossed but eyes pleading. "Y/N, listen. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. His songs are streamed millions of times. You can’t just brush this off."
"I’m not brushing it off," I shot back. "I respect his work, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not willing to risk it. There are plenty of artists who would kill to have me on their projects just by sending them my demo, and they’re happy to communicate with me online without ever knowing who I am. Why him? Why now? Why like this?"
Minji sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It’s not just about you. The label needs this. We’re in a tight spot financially, and this contract is massive. Do you know how much they’re offering?"
I didn’t want to hear the number. Money had never been my motivator, but the way Minji’s face softened told me it was enough to make a difference, not just for me but for my entire team. I groaned, dropping into a chair and crossing my arms. "Why can’t anyone hear my opinion? I don’t want to do this. I’m not just some faceless entity, you know."
"You’re not," Minji said gently. "But you also know how much this could elevate your career. Three songs, Y/N. That’s all they’re asking for. Just three."
Her words echoed in my head, the weight of them pulling me in two directions. Logic screamed to take the job, but fear—fear of exposure, of judgment—held me back.
"Fine," I said finally, hating how small my voice sounded. "I’ll think about it."
***
That night, I found myself on an unintentional deep dive into Min Yoongi’s a.k.a SUGA a.k.a AGUST D world. It started innocently enough: a quick search to refresh my memory of his discography. But then one song led to another, and another, until I was buried in hours of music he’d produced, lyrics he’d written, and performances that made me forget why I was so hesitant in the first place. Scrolling through fan edits and live clips, I couldn’t help but be charmed. There was a reason people adored him, not just for his talent, but for the quiet charisma that seeped through the screen. His easy confidence, the way he handled himself on stage and in interviews, was magnetic.
"Focus," I muttered to myself, shaking off the distraction. But the deeper I went into his work, the harder it was to ignore his genius.
His music was haunting, intricate, and raw. The kind of art that pulled you into someone’s soul, no matter how much they tried to hide. I couldn’t help but wonder how someone with this much expertise got stuck?
By the time dawn broke, I called Minji. "Minji," I said the moment she answered, her voice still groggy. "I’ll do it."
"Wait, what? You’re serious?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"Yes, but on one condition."
"Name it."
"No one finds out who I am. If my identity leaks, I’m out."
Minji exhaled sharply. "We’ll make sure of it. I’ll talk to the higher-ups and confirm everything. Thank you, Y/N. This is the right decision."
I wasn’t sure if it was the right decision, but it was the one I’d made.
The next couple of days blurred into a whirlwind of paperwork. Contracts, NDAs, and endless signatures filled my time, the reality of the collaboration sinking in more and more with each passing document. Ironically, a small part of me hoped that Min Yoongi would refuse to sign the NDA. Maybe he’d see the clause about not sharing my identity, find it too ridiculous, and decide the collaboration wasn’t worth it.
But no.
He signed it.
When Minji told me, I stared at her like she’d grown a second head. "He signed it?"
"Yeah," she said, looking just as surprised. "No arguments, no complaints. Honestly, I thought he’d push back, but he didn’t."
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a long breath. "This guy… He’s full of surprises."
"Don’t get your hopes up," Minji warned. "Just because he signed doesn’t mean this will be smooth sailing."
"I know," I muttered. But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder. How different was the man behind the screen, the one whose music I’d admired for a while, from the person I was about to meet?
***
A few days later, everything was finalized. Minji and I were contacted by Jihoon, one of the team members who worked closely with Suga.
"He’s coming to pick us up personally?" I asked Minji, eyebrows raised as I adjusted my headphones around my neck.
"Apparently," Minji replied, glancing at her phone. "Guess he wants to make sure we actually show up."
When Jihoon arrived, he was younger than I expected, his energy warm and casual. He greeted Minji with a polite bow and a bright smile, then turned to me. For a moment, his expression faltered, his eyes darting behind me like he was waiting for someone else to appear.
"Uh… Hi," he said, looking between Minji and me. "You’re both here for Suga, right?"
"Yes," Minji answered smoothly. "This is K." She gestured toward me.
Jihoon blinked, confusion written all over his face. "Wait… You’re Producer K?"
I gave him a tight-lipped smile. "That’s me."
"You’re kidding," he said, then immediately looked apologetic. "I mean, sorry, I just—uh—"
"You were expecting someone else?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Kind of, yeah," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "No offense, but I thought you’d be, you know…"
"A guy," I finished for him, crossing my arms.
He laughed awkwardly. "Well, yeah. I mean, your music has this… vibe. It’s not what I’d expect from—" He cut himself off again, realizing he wasn’t helping.
"From a woman?" I challenged, though there was no malice in my tone.
"Not what I meant!" Jihoon exclaimed, waving his hands. "It’s just…forget it. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you."
Minji chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "Don’t worry. She gets that a lot."
I didn’t hold it against him. The entire point of my stage name was to avoid this kind of reaction, but moments like these reminded me why I kept my identity under wraps. Jihoon composed himself quickly and gestured toward the sleek black van parked nearby. "Anyway, let’s get going. Suga’s waiting for us at HYBE."
***
The drive to HYBE was surprisingly pleasant. Jihoon was chatty, making an effort to ease the awkwardness of our initial interaction.
"So," he began, glancing at me through the rear-view mirror, "I’m curious. How long have you been producing?"
"About six years," I replied.
"Wow, and you’re already working with Suga," he said, genuinely impressed. "That’s not something just anyone gets to do."
"I’m aware," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "It’s a privilege."
He nodded. "Have you been a fan of his music for a while?"
I hesitated. "I respect his work. He’s incredibly talented."
Jihoon grinned knowingly. "You’re downplaying it, huh? That’s fine. Most people get nervous meeting him for the first time. Don’t worry, he’s actually a lot nicer than people think."
Minji let out a quiet laugh beside me. "I don’t think nervousness is the issue here."
Jihoon glanced between us, confused but wisely decided not to press further.
***
Pulling up to HYBE’s towering building was intimidating, to say the least. I’d seen pictures online, of course, but being there in person was a different experience.
"Here we are," Jihoon announced as he parked the van.
As we stepped out, I adjusted my hoodie, making sure it covered my face as much as possible. Even with the NDA in place, I couldn’t shake the paranoia of being recognized. Jihoon led us through the back entrance, avoiding the main lobby and elevators filled with staff and trainees. "We’re heading straight to the studio," he explained. "He’s already there."
The walk felt longer than it probably was, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. When we finally reached the studio, Jihoon paused at the door, turning to us.
"Ready?" he asked.
"As I’ll ever be," I replied, tightening my grip on my laptop case.
He opened the door, and there he was, Min Yoongi, sitting in front of a massive console, his back to us.
He turned at the sound of the door, his expression neutral as he stood to greet us. His gaze swept over Minji first, then landed on me. For a moment, he said nothing, his sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe. Then he frowned, looking at Jihoon.
"This is K?" he asked, his tone sceptical.
Jihoon winced. "Uh, yeah. This is K."
Yoongi’s frown deepened as he crossed his arms. "You’re joking, right?"
I stepped forward, meeting his gaze head-on. "Last time I checked, I’m not a joke."
His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "You’re not what I expected."
"Good," I said, setting my laptop on the table. "Let’s get started."
Yoongi smirked, leaning against the edge of the console, arms crossed. His sharp gaze never left me as he added, "I have to say, your previous work didn’t exactly… scream ‘feminine touch.’ If anything, I thought you’d walk in here with a beard and flannel shirt."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"
Jihoon coughed awkwardly, stepping back as if distancing himself from Yoongi’s comment. Minji shot him a warning look, but I could see the corners of her mouth twitching like she was trying not to laugh.
Yoongi raised a hand, his smirk widening. "No offense. I’m just saying your music has this raw, almost aggressive energy. It’s impressive. I just didn’t picture..." He motioned vaguely toward me. "...this."
Minji quickly interjected, "Alright, we’ll leave you two to it. Jihoon and I have some things to take care of."
"Wait—" I started, but Minji grabbed Jihoon by the sleeve and dragged him toward the door.
"You’ll be fine," she called over her shoulder. "Just... play nice, both of you."
The door shut with a soft click, and I was left staring at Yoongi, who looked far too amused for my liking.
"Let me guess," I said, narrowing my eyes. "You think this whole thing is a waste of time, right? That I’m here because someone in your company thought you needed ‘help.’"
He shrugged, moving to his chair and spinning it lazily before sitting down. "Help isn’t the word I’d use. But yeah, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about this arrangement."
"Trust me," I said flatly, "neither was I."
That earned a low chuckle from him. "At least we’re on the same page."
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my irritation in check. I’d dealt with condescending colleagues before, but Yoongi’s nonchalant attitude was already grating on my nerves. How different was he from the Yoongi I’d seen in interviews or fan videos? This guy wasn’t the soft-spoken, thoughtful artist fans adored. He was sharp, blunt, and entirely too smug.
"Let’s just get to work," I said, pulling out my laptop and external drive. "You have lyrics, right? Show me what you’ve got."
Yoongi grabbed a notebook from the desk and slid it across the table. "Here. Three tracks I’m stuck on. The lyrics are solid, but I can’t find the right sound to match them."
I flipped through the pages, skimming the lines. His handwriting was neat but compact, and the lyrics were, as expected, incredible. Emotionally raw, introspective, and layered with meaning. They demanded a melody that could do them justice.
"What’s the vibe you’re going for?" I asked, keeping my tone professional.
Yoongi tapped his fingers on the desk, his expression thoughtful. "Something atmospheric. A mix of minimalistic and haunting, but with enough depth to make it feel powerful. Think piano-driven but layered with electronic textures. I want it to hit hard emotionally but not overwhelm the lyrics."
I nodded, already forming ideas in my head. "Okay, let’s try something."
Opening my laptop, I connected it to the studio’s system and pulled up my digital audio workstation. I started layering a simple chord progression on the piano, experimenting with minor chords to create the moody tone he wanted. Yoongi watched silently for a moment before leaning forward. "No, that’s too soft. It needs more tension."
I adjusted the progression, adding a dissonant note to the second chord. "Better?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Now bring in a low synth pad to fill it out."
I worked quickly, adding the synth and tweaking the sound to give it a subtle pulse. The room filled with the beginnings of a melody, and for a moment, the tension between us eased as we both focused on the music.
"Not bad," Yoongi muttered, almost to himself. "But it still feels... flat."
I bit back a retort, reminding myself that this was his music. "What do you suggest?"
He leaned back, closing his eyes as he listened. "The transition between the first and second chords needs more weight. Maybe a reversed sample or a swell to build anticipation."
I nodded, grabbing a sample from my library and reversing it. After a few adjustments, I played it back. The swell added a subtle but impactful build to the transition.
Yoongi opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "That’s better."
"Glad I could meet your standards," I said dryly.
He chuckled again, the sound low and almost teasing. "Relax. I’m not here to make this harder than it has to be."
"Could’ve fooled me," I muttered under my breath, earning another amused glance from him.
Despite his initial scepticism, Yoongi was a perfectionist, and that part of him was something I could respect. He pushed for the smallest details, catching nuances that most producers might overlook. But he also didn’t hold back his opinions, which made working with him both frustrating and oddly invigorating.
As the hours passed, we fell into a rhythm. He’d point out what wasn’t working, I’d offer a solution, and we’d tweak it until we found something we both liked. By the time we wrapped up for the day, we’d made significant progress on the first track. The rough demo already had a haunting, melancholic energy that complemented his lyrics perfectly. Yoongi leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "Not bad for our first day."
"Let’s hope tomorrow’s just as productive," I said, saving the project file.
He smirked, standing up and grabbing his notebook. "We’ll see. You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be."
"Gee, thanks," I said, rolling my eyes. "You’re a real charmer."
"Only when I want to be," he shot back, heading for the door.
As he left, I let out a long breath, leaning back in my chair. Working with him was exhausting, but I couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling under my frustration. For all his arrogance, Yoongi was undeniably talented, and I found myself looking forward to the challenge of working with him.
***
The next morning, Yoongi and I sat in the studio reviewing the progress from the day before. The demo played softly in the background, and while it sounded promising, there were a few sections that felt off.
"We need to rework this transition," Yoongi said, pointing at the waveform on the screen. "It’s too abrupt. It needs more build-up."
I nodded, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Agreed. Maybe adding a soft vocal sample or layering the synth more would smooth it out."
"Try it," he said, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression.
As I adjusted the track, Yoongi’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, frowned, and stood up. "I need to take this. Keep working. I’ll be back."
He left the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind him. I sighed and refocused on the track, tweaking the layers as the melody slowly started to evolve. But after about twenty minutes, I decided to take a break. My coffee from earlier had caught up with me, and I needed to find the bathroom.
Stepping into the hallway, I started down the corridor when I heard Yoongi’s voice from around the corner. I paused, not wanting to interrupt, but something about his tone made me linger.
"...So yeah, Jihoon, I didn’t know she was a girl," he was saying.
I froze, my pulse quickening.
"I mean, if I’d known that was the case, maybe I would’ve pushed back harder at the beginning. Told them I didn’t need the help. She’s okay and talented, sure, but there are other producers out there who could’ve done this just as well."
My stomach twisted. Was that really what he thought of me? I took a step back, the faint creak of my shoe on the floor startling me. Afraid he might notice, I turned and quickly walked the other way, heading toward the nearest staircase to find another bathroom. I didn’t want to hear anything else.
After finally finding a bathroom and giving myself a moment to cool down, I headed back to the studio. I was determined not to let Yoongi know I’d overheard him, but my annoyance simmered beneath the surface. When I stepped back into the room, he was already there, seated casually at the console like he hadn’t just dismissed my abilities a few minutes ago.
"Done with your break?" he asked, not looking up as he scrolled through the project file.
"Yeah," I replied shortly, taking my seat across from him.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing at me briefly. "You okay? You sound... off."
"Just tired," I said, forcing a neutral tone.
He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. "Alright. Let’s pick up where we left off."
We dove back into the work, but my responses to his suggestions were clipped.
"That transition is too smooth," he said at one point. "It needs more contrast."
"Fine," I replied curtly, adjusting the settings without looking at him.
A few minutes later, he frowned at another section. "This part feels like it’s missing something. Maybe we should—"
"Add another layer?" I interrupted. "I know. Already on it."
Yoongi blinked at me, surprised by my tone. "What’s with the attitude?"
"Nothing," I said quickly, not meeting his gaze.
"Doesn’t seem like nothing," he said, leaning back in his chair. "If you’ve got something to say, just say it."
I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening around the mouse. "I don’t have anything to say, Yoongi. Let’s just get this done, okay?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, I thought he might push further. But then he shrugged, turning back to the monitor. "Whatever you say."
The tension in the room was palpable, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him.
"Look," he said after a long silence, his voice softer but still firm, "if something’s bothering you, it’s better to air it out now. We’re supposed to be a team, remember?"
I laughed humourlessly. "Team? Right."
Yoongi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, what did I do? You were fine this morning, and now you’re acting like I kicked your dog."
I hesitated, torn between calling him out and keeping what I’d heard to myself. In the end, I shook my head. "It’s nothing. Let’s just focus on the music."
He didn’t look convinced, but he let it drop, his focus returning to the track. For the rest of the session, I kept my replies short, my tone professional but distant. If he noticed, he didn’t comment again. But as I left the studio that evening, I couldn’t shake the sting of his words. He might think I was talented, but apparently, that wasn’t enough.
***
Sunday was a rare blessing, my day off, a chance to breathe away from the suffocating confines of the studio and Min Yoongi. The contract was clear: three months to collaborate on three tracks for his upcoming album. That deadline loomed over every interaction, and yet, the past week had felt like a year.
I sat across from Minji at our favourite café, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint hum of chatter around us. She was nursing her caramel latte, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Okay, spill," she said, leaning forward. "How’s it going with Yoongi? Are you two getting along?"
I scoffed, stirring my drink with unnecessary aggression. "Getting along? Not even close. He’s impossible."
Minji raised an eyebrow. "Impossible how? Isn’t he just... quiet and focused?"
"Quiet? Sure. Focused? Definitely. But it’s like working with a brick wall that also has an opinion on everything. He’s a perfectionist to the point where it’s unbearable. We made progress on a track, a full week’s worth of progress, and on Friday, he decided he didn’t like it and scrapped the whole thing. We’re starting from scratch tomorrow."
Her eyes widened. "He threw it all away? After a week? Was it really that bad?"
I shook my head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "No, it wasn’t bad. It was good, really good, actually. But it wasn’t perfect by his standards. He nit-picks every little thing, and don’t even get me started on his work ethic. The man doesn’t stop. I get it, he’s Yoongi, he’s supposed to be this genius producer or whatever. But does he have to be so infuriating?"
Minji smiled sympathetically, sipping her latte. "Well, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He’s got a reputation for a reason. But isn’t it a good challenge? You’re working with one of the best."
I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. "I thought it would be different, you know? I had this idea of him in my head. This brilliant, creative artist who would respect me as a collaborator. Instead, he’s... cold, demanding, and so stubborn."
Minji chuckled. "Sounds like he’s met his match."
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Oh, please. If he’s met his match, he doesn’t realize it. He probably just sees me as another producer he has to tolerate."
"That’s not true," Minji said, shaking her head. "You’re talented, Y/N. He’ll see it eventually."
I sighed, taking a long sip of my coffee. "I hope so, because right now, it feels like we’re just butting heads. He questions everything I do. And don’t even get me started on his attitude. He’s so... smug sometimes."
"Smug how?"
"Like—ugh!" I gestured vaguely, trying to find the words. "It’s the way he looks at me, like he’s constantly judging whether I’m good enough to be there. He doesn’t say it outright, but I can tell he’s thinking it. And it drives me insane."
Minji laughed, leaning back in her chair. "You’ve got it bad, huh?"
"Bad?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Bad as in annoyed? Yes. Bad as in anything else? Absolutely not."
"Sure," she said, her tone teasing.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "You’re impossible."
Minji grinned, nudging my arm. "You know, maybe this is good for you. A little friction can spark creativity. And who knows? Maybe he’s just testing you."
"Testing me?" I repeated, giving her a sceptical look.
"Yeah. Like, seeing how far you’re willing to push yourself. Maybe he’s trying to figure you out."
"Or maybe he’s just a workaholic control freak," I muttered.
Minji laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Point taken. But don’t let him get under your skin too much. You’ve got this, Y/N. And who knows? By the end of three months, maybe you’ll even like him."
I snorted. "Not a chance."
But as much as I hated to admit it, her words stuck with me.
***
The following week was no easier than the first. Yoongi and I worked tirelessly in the studio, bouncing ideas off each other, experimenting with melodies, and layering sounds. For every step forward, there seemed to be two steps back.
"This bassline isn’t strong enough," Yoongi said on Tuesday, frowning at the speakers.
"I think it works," I argued. "It’s subtle, but it adds depth to the track."
"Subtle isn’t what we’re going for," he countered.
"And what are we going for, exactly?" I asked, crossing my arms.
He gave me a look, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back a smirk. "Something better than this."
I wanted to throw my notebook at him.
By Wednesday, we’d managed to salvage some of the earlier work, only for Yoongi to suggest another round of revisions.
"You’re kidding," I said, staring at him.
"Do I look like I’m kidding?" he replied, completely serious.
"Do you ever smile?" I shot back.
He raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"
The tension between us was constant, a tug-of-war where neither of us was willing to back down. And yet, beneath the frustration, there was a strange kind of rhythm to our interactions. As much as I disliked him, I couldn’t deny that he was brilliant. Watching him work was like witnessing a master at his craft, every decision precise, every movement deliberate. But that didn’t mean I liked him. And I certainly wasn’t going to let him know just how much I respected his talent.
***
The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of the studio, casting soft golden stripes across the equipment. I was at the workstation, tweaking some samples on my laptop while Yoongi stepped out for a meeting, or whatever it was he disappeared to.
The door opened suddenly, and I assumed it was him coming back. "Did you finally decide to—"
I froze mid-sentence as someone entirely different walked in. The man was tall, with a warm smile and an unmistakable energy that lit up the room. His eyes scanned the studio until they landed on me, his confusion immediately evident.
"Uh… hi?" he said, his smile faltering slightly. "I’m looking for Yoongi. Did I walk into the wrong room? I am pretty sure this is the right one though..." he started scratching the top of his head, clearly confused.
"No, this is the right place," I replied, standing awkwardly. "He just stepped out for a bit."
His eyebrows shot up, and he pointed at me with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "Wait—who are you? Why is there… a girl in here?"
I frowned, crossing my arms. "What’s that supposed to mean? Girls aren’t allowed in studios now?"
His hands shot up defensively, and he chuckled nervously. "No, no! That’s not what I meant! It’s just… Yoongi didn’t mention working with someone new today. And you’re clearly not Jihoon."
"Clearly," I said dryly.
He laughed again, but this time it sounded more genuine. "Okay, let me start over. I’m Hoseok, but you probably know me as J-Hope."
Ah, then it clicked , of course it was J-Hope. His sunny demeanour didn’t match the grumpy energy Yoongi radiated, though, which was a refreshing change.
"Nice to meet you," I said, offering a polite nod. "I’m Y/N."
Hoseok’s expression didn’t change for a moment as if he were trying to process something. Then he grinned, leaning slightly closer like he’d just discovered something exciting.
"Wait a second," he said, his tone playfully suspicious. "I’m not even supposed to be here, you know. I heard Yoongi was working with the producer K who doesn’t even disclose their identity, but I just couldn’t resist. I love the music that K has done, so I had to come meet him. Will sign an NDA and everything."
I felt a twinge of amusement at his enthusiasm but kept my expression neutral. Something told me it was okay for him to know. "Well, congratulations. You just met… him."
Hoseok blinked, and then his jaw dropped dramatically as he pointed at me. "No way!"
"Way," I said, trying not to laugh.
His hand flew to his chest as if he were clutching imaginary pearls. "That’s why Yoongi didn’t even say anything when I begged for details! He just said, ‘There’s an NDA in place’ and refused to elaborate."
"Pretty much," I replied with a shrug.
Hoseok stared at me for a beat longer before a wide grin spread across his face. "You’re good. Like, really good. I’ve been following your work, but I never would’ve guessed you were… Well, you!"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Is that a compliment or a subtle way of saying I don’t look the part?"
"No, no, definitely a compliment," he said quickly, waving his hands. "It’s just… Yoongi’s been extra secretive about this whole thing. And now I see why."
"Yeah, well," I said, gesturing vaguely around the room, "he’s not exactly a ray of sunshine to work with."
Hoseok laughed loudly, his shoulders shaking. "Trust me, I know. But if you’re still here, that means you’re tougher than most. Or really patient."
"Or both," I muttered under my breath.
Hoseok’s grin widened, and he gave me a mock salute. "Well, K—er, Y/N—it’s an honor to meet you. Seriously. Your work speaks for itself."
He continued, a small smile playing on his lips. "Trust me, when I say this, Yoongi wouldn’t work with you if you weren’t talented. He’s picky about these things. So if he’s giving you a hard time, it’s probably because he knows you’re good enough to keep up with him."
I blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. "That’s… nice of you to say."
"Just calling it like I see it," he said with a shrug.
Before I could respond, the door opened again, and Yoongi walked in. His eyes flicked between me and Hoseok, his expression unreadable.
"What are you doing here?" he asked Hoseok, his tone laced with mild irritation.
Hoseok grinned, completely unfazed. "Came by to check on you, of course. But I see you’re in good hands."
Yoongi’s gaze shifted to me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—annoyance? Curiosity? It was hard to tell.
"Don’t you have your own schedule to worry about?" Yoongi asked, walking over to his desk.
"I’m on a break," Hoseok replied cheerfully. "And besides, I wanted to meet your mystery producer. You could’ve mentioned she’s not a guy, by the way."
Yoongi’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on the stack of notes in front of him, clearly dismissing the conversation.
"Well," Hoseok said, standing up and stretching, "I’ll leave you two to it. Nice meeting you, Y/N."
"Nice meeting you too," I said, watching as he strolled out of the room.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Yoongi and me alone again.
"You’ve been busy making friends," he said, not looking up from his papers.
"Is that a problem?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Just don’t let him distract you. We’ve got work to do."
"Wouldn’t dream of it," I said, turning back to my laptop with a hint of sarcasm.
Yoongi didn’t push further, but I could feel his gaze linger on me for a moment before he returned to his papers. But as I settled back into the project, I couldn’t help but think about what Hoseok had said. Maybe Yoongi’s high standards weren’t a bad thing. Maybe, just maybe, they were proof that he saw something in me worth pushing for.
***
The next day, I walked into the studio, ready to dive into the work, but there was something off in the air. Yoongi was sitting at his desk, staring at his screen, tapping his pen rhythmically on the surface. It was a subtle change, but it didn’t escape me, he wasn’t his usual, calm and collected self.
I sat down at my workstation, glancing over at him. He was clearly deep in thought, but there was an edge to his silence today that felt... different. More charged. I wondered if it had anything to do with yesterday’s interaction with Hoseok. Yoongi didn’t acknowledge my arrival, which was typical, but today his lack of response felt unusually pointed. After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke without looking up.
“Didn’t you want your identity a secret?” His voice was cold, almost accusatory.
I froze.
“Excuse me?” I asked, trying to hide the annoyance creeping up my neck.
“Talking to Hoseok yesterday," he continued, now looking at me with an unreadable expression. "The whole 'I can’t reveal my identity' thing. So why are you suddenly so comfortable with him knowing?"
I felt a flash of irritation surge through me, but I kept my voice level.
“I never said I was ‘comfortable’ with it,” I replied. “I’m just doing my job. And I don’t owe you an explanation about my personal decisions”.
He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to read between the lines, but said nothing more. The tension hung heavy in the room as he returned to his screen, though his fingers seemed to hesitate over the keys. I couldn’t help but scoff under my breath. What did he think? That I just decided to throw away years of carefully cultivated anonymity for fun? Minji had already alerted me that J-hope had also signed the NDA. I glanced at the clock on the wall.
“Let’s just get to work,” I said, my tone clipped, trying to deflect from the awkwardness of his question. “You said you wanted to tweak the second verse.”
“Yeah," he muttered, still not meeting my gaze, "but now I’m wondering if I even want to keep collaborating with someone who can’t keep things private.”
There it was again. That little jab. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. I gritted my teeth, my patience thinning.
“I’ve been working in this industry for years, Yoongi,” I said, fighting to keep my composure. “Long before this project. I know what’s at stake. Don’t lecture me about privacy.”
He finally glanced up, his eyes meeting mine. There was a flicker of something, was it guilt? But he quickly masked it with his usual indifference.
“Right,” he said, standing up and walking toward the soundboard. “Let’s get this over with.”
The rest of the session passed with both of us avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Despite the friction, we did manage to make some progress. I’d never admit it aloud, but Yoongi was damn good at what he did. Even when he was being insufferable. After a while, he took a deep breath, rubbing his temples like he was trying to stave off a headache.
“You’re not what I thought you’d be,” he muttered, half to himself.
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what did you expect?”
He gave me a sideways glance, not quite meeting my eyes.
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Maybe someone more... calculated. Or quieter.”
“Is that so?” I shot back, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Because I thought you liked chaos in your music.”
He smirked at that, but the tension still lingered between us, thick and unresolved.
As the day wore on, we continued to push through, though it was clear neither of us was really in the mood for any small talk or the usual banter. The chemistry that had started to form in previous days was gone, replaced by an almost uncomfortable distance. I finally stood up to stretch, my back aching from sitting for so long. Yoongi glanced at me, his expression unreadable.
“You’re leaving?” he asked, voice cool, as though he didn’t care.
“Yeah. I’m going to grab something to eat,” I replied curtly, gathering my things.
Halfway through gathering my things, for a split second, I thought I saw Yoongi open his mouth as if he was about to say something. Maybe it was the exhaustion on his face or just the weird tension between us, but for a brief second, I thought, just maybe, he was going to offer to grab something to eat with me. Instead, he just turned away, his back to me as he focused on his work. I blinked, swallowing the unexpected disappointment that bubbled up. What was I even expecting? It wasn’t like we were friends. Shaking off the weird feeling, I grabbed my bag and left the studio, the door clicking shut behind me.
***
Once I got to the company’s cafeteria, I was finally able to relax. The soft buzz of voices and clinking silverware was a welcome break from the tension in the studio. I grabbed a tray and found a seat by the window, trying my best to shove aside any thoughts of Yoongi.
He was a talented producer, no doubt, but the way he treated me was... irritating. I shouldn’t have expected anything different. This was business, not friendship, and I had no time to be distracted by someone who probably saw me as just another collaborator, nothing more.
I opened my notebook and jotted down a few ideas for the next two songs we still needed to work on. The first song was nearly done, but we’d been working on it for two weeks, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It was slow progress, and I could already feel the deadline creeping closer.
I was so deep in thought, sketching out some melodies, that I didn’t notice Hoseok standing in front of me until he waved his hand in front of my face.
“Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow, looking amused.
I jumped a little, then glanced up at him. “Oh, hey, Hoseok. Didn’t see you there.”
He slid into the seat across from me, still grinning like he knew something I didn’t. Hoseok leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning me curiously. “So, how’s it going? He’s not making it too hard for you, is he?”
I almost snorted at the question. “Hard? That’s an understatement. But yeah, I’m surviving. We’re getting somewhere.”
He raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to get along with Yoongi so easily. He’s a bit... stubborn, right?”
I shrugged, taking a bite of my food to avoid answering too directly.
“You’d be surprised what I can tolerate,” I said, feeling defensive for some reason.
Hoseok tilted his head, his gaze sharp. “I guess so. But you know, it’s funny.”
I looked up from my food, confused. “What’s funny?”
Hoseok smirked. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to be such a fan of Yoongi’s music.”
I blinked, unsure if I heard him right. “What do you mean?”
Hoseok just pointed at my phone on the table, where I’d left it open to a playlist of Yoongi’s songs.
I froze, then quickly reached to hide it, but it was too late. Hoseok’s grin widened.
“You know, I really didn’t expect that,” he said, leaning in a little closer, his tone teasing. “I mean, I always knew Yoongi’s music was good, but seeing you listen to it like that... I got to admit, I’m curious what you think of it.”
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “I’m just... trying to learn more about him, okay? It’s part of the job.”
“Sure, sure,” Hoseok said, still grinning. “I mean, I get it. He’s got a certain... appeal. But hey, don’t let it distract you too much. He’s not the easiest person to get close to.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I muttered, returning to my food, trying to act like I wasn’t the least bit fazed.
Hoseok studied me for a moment, then leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression.
“Well, if you want my advice...” He grinned again, his eyes mischievous. “Try not to fall for the music and the man, yeah?”
I choked slightly on my food, coughing. “What?!”
Hoseok laughed, clearly enjoying my reaction. “I’m just saying, Y/N, don’t get too swept up in it all. Yoongi’s a complicated guy. He’s not someone who’ll make things easy.”
I scowled, but there was a small part of me that couldn’t help but appreciate Hoseok’s frankness. “I’m not falling for anything, Hoseok. I’m just here to do my job.”
Hoseok just winked and stood up. “Whatever you say. But if you do need to talk about him... I’m always around.”
Hoseok paused, about to turn around before he shot me a sly grin over his shoulder. “Actually… I don’t know if you’re comfortable with all this yet, so you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’m known for throwing some pretty epic parties around here,” he said, his tone playful. “I’m throwing one at the company soon, gathering the staff, and some of the BTS members will be there too.”
I raised an eyebrow, confused at where this was going. “A party?”
“Yeah, and I can introduce you as the ‘Assistant of Producer K,’ so you won’t have to expose your identity if you’re worried about that. It’ll be low-key, just a way for you to get used to the vibe here. Who knows? You might even get a chance to chat with Yoongi... outside of the studio.” He smirked, his gaze lingering on me as if he could see through the walls I’d built up. “You can bring a plus-one too, if you want.”
It was tempting, especially with the idea of getting out of this studio for a while. Plus, Hoseok seemed genuine, and I didn’t want to just keep hiding away in my little corner of the world.
Still, I was cautious. This wasn’t my scene, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to step into the spotlight, especially if it meant running into Yoongi in a setting like that. The thought of it made my stomach flip.
“I’ll think about it,” I said, trying to sound neutral.
Hoseok grinned, clearly satisfied with my answer. “Take your time. You know where to find me if you decide.”
With that, he left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I sat there for a moment, turning the invitation over in my head. A party? An opportunity to get used to the vibes, meet people, and possibly see Yoongi in a completely different light. It could be good for me to step out of my shell, get out of my head for a bit. But... was I ready for that?
I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside for now. There was no need to make decisions in a rush. I’d think about it later.
I finished eating in silence, trying to push all the thoughts about Hoseok’s offer out of my head. It wasn’t like me to just drop everything for a party, but something about the idea of getting out of the studio, meeting people, and maybe getting a chance to see Yoongi in a less... tense environment intrigued me. But I couldn’t focus on that now.
I stood up, pushing my tray toward the dirty dish bin, and made my way back to the studio. As I walked through the hallway, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu. It was like I’d just left, but already it felt like I’d been away too long. The faint hum of the studio's equipment reached my ears before I even stepped through the door.
When I entered, the first thing I noticed was Yoongi, still at his spot, but now with a bowl of noodles in front of him. The faint smell of the broth hit me, and I couldn't help but cringe. Didn’t he ever leave this place?
Yoongi looked up from his meal, barely acknowledging me as I entered. "You’re back," he muttered, his voice a little muffled by a mouthful of noodles.
"Yeah," I said, letting the door close behind me. "Still working, I see."
“Of course,” he replied, the tone in his voice sounding almost too casual. "The faster we finish this, the sooner we can move on to the next track."
I dropped my bag onto the table and pulled my chair out. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You keep rushing through everything, thinking you can just ‘move on’ from one song to the next. But this isn’t a race, Yoongi.”
He looked at me sharply, his brows furrowing. "I'm not rushing anything. We need to get this done before the deadline, and you can’t expect me to just waste time on something that isn’t working."
I stared at him, my patience thinning. “You’re not even open to trying something new. Every idea I suggest gets shot down, but you’re so attached to this ‘perfect’ vision of yours. Well, guess what? Perfect doesn’t exist.”
Yoongi set his bowl down, the chopsticks clinking against the edge. “So what, you think I’m not doing my best?” His eyes narrowed, and the room suddenly felt smaller. “You think I don’t care about the quality?”
I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. “It’s not about that, Yoongi. You’re too set in your ways. You think your way is the only way, but this is a collaboration. I can’t just keep following your orders. I’m not your assistant.”
He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his forehead, like I was the last thing he needed in his life right now. "I never said you were my assistant."
“Then stop treating me like one,” I snapped, feeling my annoyance rise. "I’m not here just to cater to your ideas. If we’re working together, we need to meet in the middle."
The silence stretched between us for a few long moments. Then Yoongi glanced away, exhaling sharply as if trying to push back his own frustration. "Fine," he muttered. "We’ll figure it out. But don’t expect everything to happen overnight."
“I don’t,” I replied dryly. "But I expect respect, which is something you seem to be lacking in."
He didn’t answer right away, just went back to staring at his noodles. For a moment, I thought it might be best to just call it a day and leave, but something about the lingering tension kept me rooted to the spot.
"By the way," I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could second-guess myself. "Hoseok invited me to a party. At the company. I’m thinking about going."
Yoongi’s head snapped up at the mention of Hoseok’s name, and I caught the flash of something in his eyes—a mix of surprise, confusion. It was hard to tell. But whatever it was, it was there, even if he quickly masked it with a smirk.
“Hoseok?” he repeated, almost like he couldn’t believe it. “What’s he got to do with you going to a party?”
"I don’t know," I said, shrugging. "Maybe I’ll go. I might need a break from the studio. Get out of here for a bit. And who knows? It might be nice to talk to someone who isn’t you."
Yoongi didn’t seem pleased with that, but he said nothing. Instead, he shifted in his chair and looked at the screen in front of him, ignoring me completely.
“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” he asked, his voice low.
“I don’t know,” I replied, leaning forward on my elbows. “You’ve been pretty hard to work with lately. Maybe a break is exactly what I need.”
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask you not to take a break. I’m just... trying to get this done.”
I tilted my head, studying him for a moment. "Fine. Just let me know when you’re ready to actually collaborate. You can stop being so defensive for two seconds."
There was another tense silence before I stood up to leave the room. But as I reached for the door, something inside me—maybe frustration, maybe curiosity—made me turn back.
“By the way,” I said, walking back to Yoongi’s desk. “Could you give me Hoseok’s number? I might need it for the party.”
Yoongi froze for a second, his fingers stopping mid-air as if I’d just thrown him off balance. His eyes narrowed, and for a second, he didn’t say anything.
"Why would you need that?" he finally asked, voice tight.
"Because I need to respond to him if I am showing up or not," I replied, my tone sharp.
Yoongi glared at me but didn’t say anything else, a muscle in his jaw twitching. After a beat, he reluctantly scribbled something down on a piece of paper and slid it toward me. “Here. But if you think I’m going to chase you to the party... you’re wrong.”
I took the paper, glancing at it before shoving it into my pocket. “Thanks. I’ll make sure not to expect you there.”
Without another word, I turned and left, my mind buzzing with more questions than answers. What was going on with Yoongi? And, most importantly... Why did his attitude bother me more than I cared to admit?
***
I grabbed my phone, fingers hovering over the screen before I hit send. The past few days had been a blur of studio time and late-night meals. I needed something to break the routine. So, Thursday evening I finally decided to take Hoseok up on his offer.
Y/N: Hey Hoseok, it's Y/N! I just wanted to double-check the party details again. You said it’s at the company building, right? What time should I be there?
The response was almost immediate, Hoseok’s usual energy practically jumping out of the screen.
Hoseok: Yep! It’s at the company building. We’ll start around 7 PM, but feel free to come anytime after that. You know how these things go. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re introduced properly as “Prod K’s assistant” so no one will know who you really are. It’ll be low-key, promise!
I let out a relieved sigh. That sounded like exactly what I needed … low-key, no expectations, just a chance to escape the studio for a bit.
Y/N: Thanks, that sounds perfect. I’ll be there. Can I bring my friend Minji? She’d love to come.
Hoseok: Of course! Bring whoever you want. It’s all about having a good time. I’m looking forward to seeing you there!
I grinned at the message, feeling a little lighter. At least for one night, I could just focus on having fun and not worry about my identity or working with Yoongi.
Putting my phone down, I leaned back in my chair, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The whole idea of going to a party sounded so... normal, so different from the chaos I had been drowning in lately. The studio, Yoongi’s sharp comments, and the constant pressure to produce. Maybe this would be a good chance to just... breathe.
I glanced over at the calendar on my desk, mentally counting the days.
The next day, I texted Minji.
Y/N: Hey, I’m going to that party Hoseok invited me to on Sunday. Want to come with me?
Minji: YES YES YES YES. This is going to be so fun! Who else is going?
Y/N: Apparently, all the BTS members will be there too.
Minji: Wait, like ALL of them? Are you serious? We need to plan our outfits then.
Y/N: Just don’t go overboard, okay? Let’s keep it chill.
Minji: You know I can't do “chill” when it comes to parties!
I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Minji was always up for an adventure. I knew she’d be bouncing off the walls all weekend in preparation. I didn’t mind though. If anyone could pull me out of my head and get me excited for something, it was her.
When Saturday evening arrived, the studio was buzzing with an unexpected energy. After three weeks of near-constant back-and-forth, I finally felt like we’d made some real progress. The first song was done. It wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as we could get in such a short time, and for the first time in a while, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders.
I glanced at Yoongi, who had been hunched over his computer screen for hours, typing away at the final tweaks. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but when the last beat dropped into place, he sat back in his chair and let out a long, satisfied sigh.
"We did it," he said, turning his head to meet my eyes.
It wasn’t much, but there was a slight spark in his gaze. A hint of pride, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual indifference.
“Yeah, we did,” I said, unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips. "It’s... good."
Yoongi paused, eyes locked on mine for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I guess you don’t completely suck at this after all."
I raised an eyebrow, playing along. "I’m glad to know you’re impressed."
We both laughed softly, the tension that had been hanging between us for weeks finally easing. It was a strange feeling, one I wasn’t used to with him, but I couldn’t deny it. It felt... nice. Like we’d just hit a milestone together.
Yoongi extended his hand, and I hesitated for a split second before I went for it, my palm feeling warmer than usual. Our high-five was awkward, neither of us really knowing how to react. But in that brief moment, I realized how unusual it was for us to share something this... simple.
"Congratulations," I said, nodding toward the screen. "We actually did it."
"Yeah," Yoongi replied, his voice softer than I expected. "I’ll see you on Monday, then. We’ll tackle the next one."
I blinked, taken aback for a second. Monday? Just like that, the professional distance came back. I hadn’t expected him to say that so casually, but I guess it was what we were supposed to do: get the work done, pack up, and move on.
But for some reason, as I sat there in the quiet of the studio, a thought lingered. He’s really not coming to the party, huh?
I glanced over at him, but Yoongi was already packing up his things, seemingly focused on getting out of the studio as quickly as possible. He didn’t even look back at me as he gathered his notes and the leftover snacks we had both been snacking on throughout the day.
I stood up and grabbed my bag, deciding it was better to just let it go. No need to dwell on something that wasn’t going to happen. He was Yoongi, professional, distant Yoongi. He wasn’t someone who would show up to a party for fun.
"Alright," I said, the awkwardness settling back into my chest. "See you Monday, I guess."
Yoongi glanced over at me for a brief moment, nodding. "Yeah. See you."
As I left the studio, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, but I couldn’t place what. Maybe it was just the relief of finally finishing the first song. Or maybe it was just the weird dynamic between us, the unexpected moments of quiet camaraderie that had popped up over the last few days.
But as I stepped out of the building, I realized how much I was looking forward to the party on Sunday. It was the break I needed.
***
Sunday evening came faster than I expected. Minji showed up at my apartment just as I was pulling out a few potential outfits from my closet. She threw her bag on the couch and plopped herself down with a dramatic sigh.
“Finally, a party!” she exclaimed, leaning back and stretching like she’d just run a marathon. “We’ve been cooped up with that brooding genius for weeks. We need this.”
I rolled my eyes, laying a sleek black turtleneck dress over the back of the chair. “It’s not ‘we’. I’m the one stuck with him in the studio.”
Minji snorted. “You say that like I’m not the one dealing with your constant texts complaining about how annoying he is. ‘Minji, he’s impossible. Minji, he’s a perfectionist. Minji, he’s so irritatingly—’”
“Okay, okay,” I interrupted, throwing a pillow at her. “I get it.”
She caught the pillow with a grin. “Admit it, though. You’re starting to like working with him, aren’t you?”
“Like is a strong word,” I muttered, holding up a dark green dress and then discarding it. “We finally finished one song yesterday. That’s it.”
“But you’re not denying it.” She smirked, standing up to rummage through the pile of clothes I’d pulled out. “Ooh, this one’s cute.”
She held up a sequined gold dress, and I shook my head immediately. “Too flashy. I’m not trying to stand out. Just look professional and approachable.”
Minji rolled her eyes. “You know this is a party, right? Not a corporate meeting?”
“Still. I want to keep a low profile,” I said, picking up the black turtleneck dress. It was tight enough to show some curves but modest enough to feel professional, with long sleeves and a hemline that hit just above the knees. “What about this?”
Minji tilted her head, considering. “It’s very you. Chic, understated, mysterious. And Yoongi’s probably going to notice you in it.”
I groaned. “Not everything is about Yoongi!“
Minji raised an eyebrow, smirking as she flopped onto the couch. “Oh, really? If it’s not about Yoongi, then why are you quoting him like he’s living rent-free in your head?”
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Because it’s relevant! When I told him Hoseok invited me, Yoongi literally said, ‘But if you think I’m going to chase you to the party... you’re wrong.’ And yesterday, after we finished the song, he ended with, ‘See you Monday.’” I huffed. “He couldn’t have been clearer about not showing up.”
Minji snorted. “Wow. He really went out of his way to make sure you knew, huh?”
“Exactly.” I tossed the dress onto the bed. “So, can we drop this whole ‘Yoongi might surprise you at the party’ thing? It’s not happening.”
Minji held up her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No Yoongi talk. But honestly, he sounds so extra about it. Like, what’s his deal? You’re the one who didn’t even want to be there with him in the first place.”
“Exactly!” I said again, throwing my hands up. “I don’t even care if he shows up or not. This is supposed to be my break. I just want to go, enjoy the night, and pretend I don’t have deadlines hanging over my head for one evening.”
Minji smirked knowingly but didn’t say anything more as she got up to sift through her own options for the party. After a moment, she held up a red dress with a dramatic neckline and sparkling details. “What about this for me? It screams ‘I’m the fun friend.’”
I laughed, shaking my head. “You don’t need a dress to say that. Everyone already knows.”
***
A little while later, we were both ready. Minji had gone with her glittery red dress, while I stuck to my black turtleneck one.
As we grabbed our things, Minji gave me a playful nudge. “Okay, so, final thoughts: what if Yoongi does show up, despite everything he said?”
I shot her a withering look. “Then I’ll eat my words. But that’s not happening.”
Minji grinned as we headed out the door. “We’ll see.”
***
The energy of the party was already palpable as Minji and I entered the venue. The music was loud enough to drown out any awkward thoughts, and the lighting cast a warm, celebratory glow. Before we could get our bearings, a familiar figure spotted us and made his way over with an enthusiastic wave.
“Welcome, welcome!” Hoseok beamed, his smile as bright as the room itself. “You made it! I was starting to think you’d ditch last minute.”
Minji laughed. “Not with you hosting, J-hope. She couldn’t say no.”
I shot her a quick glare but turned to Hoseok with a polite smile. “Thanks for inviting us.”
As we exchanged pleasantries, a small group approached him, each handing over neatly wrapped gifts or gift bags.
“Happy birthday, Hobi!” one of them exclaimed, pulling him into a quick hug before leaving the gift with him.
I blinked, taken aback. “Wait... birthday?” I turned to Hoseok, brows furrowed. “Is this... your birthday party?”
Hoseok gave me a sheepish grin. “Well, yeah. Kind of.”
I stared at him, stunned. “You didn’t tell me it was your birthday!”
“Of course, I didn’t,” he replied, laughing. “If I told you, you wouldn’t have come. Admit it!”
I opened my mouth to protest, then paused, realizing he wasn’t entirely wrong. “…Okay, fair. But now I feel terrible. I didn’t bring you anything.”
He waved it off with a casual flick of his hand. “Don’t even worry about it. Your presence is enough of a gift.”
Minji rolled her eyes playfully. “Wow, smooth.”
I ignored her, offering Hoseok a tentative smile. “Well, if that’s the case, I owe you dinner. My treat. Birthday special.”
Hoseok’s grin widened, and he gave me a mock bow. “I’ll hold you to that.”
As the party carried on, my mind wandered, unbidden, to Yoongi. If it was Hoseok’s birthday, then surely Yoongi would be here, right? They were bandmates, practically brothers. Despite everything he’d said, it felt impossible that he wouldn’t show up to celebrate.
Right?
Hoseok, catching my distracted expression, nudged me lightly. “Come on, let me introduce you to the guys.”
As Hoseok led me through the crowd, I tried to shake off the lingering thoughts about Yoongi. I couldn’t help myself, though; the idea that he wasn’t here, despite everything, gnawed at me. Was he really just going to stay out of sight, like he’d said? Or had something else kept him away?
"Hey, over here," Hoseok called, his voice cutting through my thoughts as he pulled me toward the others. "Everyone, this is Y/N and Minji, the assistant and the manager of Producer K!"
The guys all turned to look, some with grins on their faces, others with more curious expressions. I gave a small wave, trying to maintain the composure I knew I needed for moments like this. Being around people like them—BTS—was something I wasn’t used to, but I was starting to adjust, or at least, I hoped I was.
"Y/N and Minji, huh? Nice to meet you," Jimin said first, flashing me a grin that lit up his whole face. "Hoseok's always talking about Producer K’s work. You must also be a pretty big deal if you’re working with him."
"Yeah, I've heard about his skills," Taehyung added, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Nice to meet some of the brains behind the scenes." He gave a slight bow, which I returned awkwardly.
"We've been hearing a lot about you guys," Namjoon said, his deep voice steady and reassuring. "It's nice to finally put a face to the names."
"Thanks," I replied, trying to keep the mood light. "We just do our part in the background."
They all nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer. But it was clear that Hoseok’s introduction had piqued their interest, and the attention felt overwhelming. I quickly shifted my gaze to see if Yoongi had come in yet, but the crowd was thick, and I didn’t spot him immediately.
"Minji," I whispered, trying to keep my voice low, "Do you think Yoongi’s coming?"
Minji raised an eyebrow. "Why? Are you hoping he does?"
I shot her a sharp look, but she just laughed, nudging me playfully. "Relax, Y/N. If he’s coming, he’ll show up eventually. For now, just enjoy the party. You’ve earned it."
I sighed and nodded, trying to push the thoughts of Yoongi aside. There was no point in stressing over something I couldn’t control.
As the introductions continued, Hoseok pulled me into a more private corner of the room, away from the group for a moment. "You’re doing great," he said with a genuine smile. "I know this might feel like a lot, but you’re handling it well. The others are just excited to meet you. They’ve heard a lot about producer K."
"Thanks," I replied, a little surprised at his sudden encouragement. "I’m just trying to keep a low profile, honestly."
"Yeah, I get it," Hoseok nodded knowingly. "You know, though, if you want to meet some more people, I can introduce you around. You don’t have to worry about your identity being exposed here. "
I just nodded, grateful for his understanding. But part of me was still wondering, was Yoongi going to show up? Or had I been right all along? Was he truly not interested in stepping outside of the studio for something like this?
At that moment, Jungkook stepped over to join us. "What’s up, guys?" he said with a smile.
Hoseok grinned and gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, you! This is Y/N, Producer K’s assistant. You’ve heard a lot about her, right?"
Jungkook looked at me, his expression slightly puzzled at first before breaking into a smile. "Ah, yeah, I’ve heard a little. Nice to meet you, Y/N." He gave a casual wave, but there was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.
"Nice to meet you too," I replied with a slight smile.
Jungkook seemed to sense the tension in the air, glancing between Hoseok and me. "So, Hyung, who else did you invite?"
Hoseok grinned, looking around the room. "A lot more people, but ah, yes, Y/N—the only member you haven’t met yet is Jin. He’s in the military, so it’s just the rest of us holding down the fort tonight."
I nodded, trying to mask my surprise. "Ah, I didn’t realize. That must be tough for you guys."
Hoseok shrugged, but there was a hint of something bittersweet in his eyes. "Yeah, but it is what it is. We’re all proud of him, of course. We just miss him, that’s all."
Jungkook nodded in agreement. "It’s been a while, but we’ll manage. He’ll be back before we know it."
I felt a pang of empathy for them, understanding how difficult it must be to have someone so important absent from events like this. But the conversation quickly shifted as Hoseok directed it back to me.
"So, Y/N, now that you’ve met the guys, are you having fun? No pressure, just curious." He raised an eyebrow, clearly looking for my reaction.
I forced a smile, trying to get out of my own head. "Yeah, it’s been good. Just a little overwhelming."
"Totally understandable," Jungkook said, giving me a reassuring smile. "But don’t worry. It’s just a party. No big deal."
I chuckled softly, grateful for the small bit of comfort. But my thoughts still drifted back to Yoongi. Would he really not show up?
Just then, I spotted Minji on the dance floor, looking like she was having the time of her life. Without a second thought, I nudged Hoseok. "I think I need to join her," I said, already pushing my way through the crowd.
"Go ahead," Hoseok replied with a grin. "I’ll be around if you need anything."
I made my way over to Minji, and we quickly fell into the rhythm of the music, letting the beat carry us away. The drinks were flowing, and before I knew it, the atmosphere shifted into a carefree, almost electric vibe. As more people showed up, the party grew livelier, and from time to time, some of the BTS members would come over and join us on the dance floor. It was fun, it was wild, but... my mind kept drifting back to Yoongi.
Unable to hold it in any longer, I pulled Hoseok aside when I caught him by the bar. "Hey, Hoseok... Where’s Yoongi?"
Hoseok glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, then shrugged. "Oh, he was here earlier, literally before you showed up. Now that you mention it, though, I haven’t seen him since."
I felt a strange mix of disappointment and... relief? I wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe it was better this way, but somehow, a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing from the night.
Minji and I were having a blast, drink after drink, dance after dance. The music, the energy, everything was a blur of fun. I couldn’t remember the last time I had let myself enjoy the moment so freely, and for a while, it was exactly what I needed. But after a few more songs, I started to feel a little dizzy, the world spinning just slightly out of focus.
"Minji, I’m going to head somewhere quiet for a bit," I said, my voice a little unsteady. "I just need to lay down, get myself together. I’ll be back in a bit, okay?"
She shot me a playful grin, still bouncing to the beat. "Take care of yourself, girl! I’ll be here if you need me!"
With that, I slipped away from the dance floor, trying to stay steady on my feet. I remembered the studio I’d worked for the past weeks had a cosy sofa tucked away in one of its corners. It was the perfect place to rest for a bit until the dizziness passed.
I made my way to the studio, feeling the coolness of the hallway against my skin. The noise of the party seemed to fade as I pushed open the door, the silence of the room a welcome contrast to the chaos outside. I sank onto the sofa, closing my eyes for a few moments, hoping to just let the room settle.
I was only half-aware of how long I’d been there when I heard the door creak open. My eyes fluttered open, and I instantly tensed. Had someone followed me in?
There, standing in the doorway, was Yoongi. He looked surprised to see me there, his eyebrows knitting together as he glanced around the room before fixing his gaze on me.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone still as clipped as ever.
I raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing here?" I shot back. "I thought you weren't even coming to the party."
His eyes narrowed for a moment, but then he seemed to shrug it off. "Well I did. But, I don’t exactly need to announce my presence to everyone." His voice was colder than usual.
I bit my lip, frustration rising in my chest. "Then why are you here, Yoongi? If you're so indifferent about the party, why are you hiding out here?"
His shoulders tensed slightly as he crossed his arms in front of him while standing next to the coach, his eyes not quite meeting mine. "Not hiding. Just... thinking." He sighed. "I could ask the same thing."
I crossed my arms too, feeling the heat of irritation flood my veins. "I’m just getting away from the noise for a bit, okay?"
He didn't seem convinced, his lips forming a faint, sarcastic smile. "Right. Just taking a break. From everything, including the party, in my studio huh?"
Before I could respond, the unease that had been building between us finally snapped thanks to the alcohol. I pushed past him, moving toward the door. "Fine, I’ll leave. You can have your privacy too, Yoongi."
I turned sharply, my frustration boiling over, and reached for the door. The cool metal handle felt solid beneath my fingers, offering a small comfort. But as soon as I used it to crack the door open, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me. A hand shot out, and in one swift motion, Yoongi’s arm stretched across me, pushing the door shut and blocking my escape.
I froze, my pulse quickening as I felt the warmth of his body close behind me. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe for a moment, caught in the tension of his presence. His arm hovered just inches from my face, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he braced himself against the door. I could feel the faint shift of air from his movement, the pressure of his proximity filling the space between us. He was so close, but he didn’t touch me.
His breath was warm against the back of my neck, his presence so tangible that it almost felt suffocating. I couldn’t help but stiffen, the tension in the air thick and heavy. My hand, still gripping the door handle, trembled slightly, and I could feel my heart thudding in my chest.
"Let go," I muttered, my voice low, tight with a mix of anger and something else that I couldn’t quite place.
But Yoongi didn’t budge. He was silent for a long moment, his body pressed just behind mine, not quite touching, but close enough that I could feel his every movement, his breath still brushing over the back of my neck.
"No," he said, his voice soft but firm’’...stay.” There was no hesitation in his tone, as though he had made up his mind about this. About me.
I didn’t turn to face him. I couldn’t. But I could hear the subtle shift in his tone. It wasn’t just the frustration from before—it was something else now. Something quieter.
"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, though my hands were still shaking, my fingers gripping the door handle as if it might ground me. "Why should I stay?"
Yoongi’s breath seemed to hitch at that, and he shifted slightly, his chest brushing against my back as he leaned in just enough for me to feel the weight of his presence. "Because," he started slowly, his voice almost a murmur, "I didn’t tell you to leave."
His words were unexpected. I hadn’t anticipated this, whatever it was, this softness in his tone, this tension building between us.
I could feel myself bristling and I turned around to face him. "Why should I listen? You didn’t even want to work with me in the first place. Why should I stay here with you now?"
"Who told you that?"
His voice, quieter now when his eye caught mine, but the words still stung. "I overheard you that day, talking to Jihoon on the phone, during the first week. You said you should've argued harder with your company to not work with me... and you said it was because I’m a woman."
I could feel my chest tighten as the words left my lips. The tension in the air thickened, and before I knew it, I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
Yoongi’s face faltered. His eyes softened.
"I didn’t say that." Yoongi's voice was quieter, almost apologetic now. "If you heard me properly that day... I said I knew you were talented. And I knew how much you value your privacy. I know this whole thing is risky for you. That’s why… if I had known you were a woman, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to work with you. I didn’t want to blow your cover or make you feel uncomfortable around me the whole time".
I blinked, my heart dropping. I felt like I had heard those words, but it was as if I hadn’t truly processed them until now. Not in that context. I could feel my breath catch in my throat. I didn’t know what to say. His words were so different from what I had thought. My mind was swirling, and before I could stop it, a few tears broke free and slid down my cheek.
Without a word, Yoongi stepped closer, his hand brushing my cheek gently, his thumb swiping away the tears while holding my face.
I froze, staring up at him, unsure of what was happening, but the proximity, his nearness, was overwhelming. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, and his touch was so soft it almost made my heart ache.
His eyes met mine again, searching, lingering. We were so close now. His breath mingled with mine as he looked down at me, and I could feel the heat between us.
"Can I..." He started, his voice low, almost hesitant, but before he could finish, the door suddenly jolted behind me.
I jumped, both of us stepping away instinctively, my heart racing. The air between Yoongi and me shattered in an instant.
It was Hoseok. He stepped inside, a playful grin on his face, but his eyes didn’t seem to notice me. "Yoongi! Where’s Y/N? She was looking out for you earlier, and then she just disappeared on me."
I couldn’t look at either of them. I just stood there, my back to the door, trying to breathe normally.
Hoseok stepped further into the room, a confused expression crossing his face as he noticed me and the way Yoongi was standing. He glanced between us, his gaze flicking back to Yoongi. "Everything good here?" he asked, sounding half-serious, half-playful.
I quickly moved, my cheeks flushed, and hurried out of the room, unable to handle the awkwardness any longer. Hoseok called after me, but I didn’t look back. I just needed to get away, to breathe, to think.
But as I walked away, I couldn’t stop the images of Yoongi’s eyes on me, his breath on my skin. What had just happened? I wasn’t sure, but my heart was pounding in my chest as I moved further from that room, from him.
***
When I finally made it back to the party, I spotted Minji chatting away with Taehyung. She looked up and waved me over, her usual bright energy making her stand out. But I couldn’t shake the feeling from earlier. Yoongi's words, his actions. I knew I needed to leave.
"Minji," I said, cutting through the conversation. "We need to go." She blinked, surprised at the abruptness of my tone, but nodded without questioning me. I turned to Taehyung, who had been listening to Minji ramble on, with a smile on his face.
"Tell Hoseok I’m sorry, but I have to leave. I'll see him again soon," I said, my voice steady. "And remind him that I still owe him that dinner."
Taehyung raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He just gave me a knowing smile. "Alright, take care. I’ll let him know."
Minji and I made our way out of the venue, the lights of the party fading as we stepped into the cool night air. The moment we were in a taxi, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.
Minji glanced at me, her eyes practically sparkling with mischief as she read me like an open book. “Wow. So you did meet him. What happened? Tell me everything. Now."
I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "You’re relentless, you know that?"
Minji threw me a playful look. "You're not getting away with it. I need to know all the details. Was it awkward? Did he talk to you? What did he say? Was it... was it like, a moment?"
I groaned, leaning back against the headrest. "Honestly, it was... complicated." I paused, gathering my thoughts. "We had a bit of an argument, and then, out of nowhere, he blocked the door when I tried to leave. He didn’t want me to go. And then, he... he said some things. I don’t know. Things about me being a woman, about my privacy... It just felt like it was all crashing down in one moment."
Minji’s face shifted from excitement to concern. "Wait, what? He said what about your privacy?"
I sighed deeply, recalling the mix of emotions from that moment. "I told him I overheard him on the phone saying he didn't want to work with me because I was a woman. I was mad. And I think I was hurt, too. He didn’t deny it. He said... he said that he knows I’m talented and that he wouldn’t have worked with me if he knew I was a girl because it could’ve blown my cover. I... I didn’t know what to think."
Minji stared at me, processing everything I’d just said. "Wow. That’s a lot. But it sounds like he really didn’t want to hurt you, Y/N. I mean, he doesn’t want to blow your cover, and he’s not the type to just say stuff for no reason. I think he might’ve been trying to protect you in his own way."
I shook my head, still not fully understanding it all. "Maybe. But it doesn’t make it easier. He’s so confusing, Minji. One minute, he’s mad at me, then we’re... closer than I thought. I don’t even know if I want to deal with it."
Minji placed a hand on mine, her expression softening. "You’re allowed to be confused. I get it. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a good thing. He’s not the only one with walls up, you know? You’ve got yours too."
I sighed, leaning back again. "Yeah, but this... this is different. He’s not supposed to make me feel like this."
Minji didn’t say anything at first, but then she shrugged slightly. "Look, I can’t tell you what to do. But whatever happens, you’ll figure it out. You always do."
Her words were comforting, even though I wasn’t sure if I agreed. I wanted to know what Yoongi wanted from me, if anything. But for now, I had to focus on what came next.
***
The next morning, I woke up feeling like I was moving through a fog. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol from the night before or the confusion swirling around my thoughts, but I had to get up, get ready, and go to work. It was just another day. I was a professional, after all.
As I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but think about everything that had happened between Yoongi and I the night before. The words, the tension, the way he blocked the door... It all felt like a surreal dream now. I quickly pushed those thoughts away, forcing myself to focus. I’d told Minji last night that I wouldn’t mention it again. That was the plan. I was going to walk in, act normal, and get through this day like nothing had happened. I had a job to do.
I dressed quickly, choosing something that felt both comfortable and professional, jeans and a simple blouse. Nothing too attention-grabbing. With one last look at myself in the mirror, I headed out.
The drive to the studio was quiet, my mind a little too preoccupied with what I’d left behind. I thought about texting Minji again, but I didn’t want to be that person who overanalysed everything. I’d deal with it.
The moment I stepped into the studio, I immediately spotted Yoongi, already seated at the desk, headphones on, his gaze focused on the screen in front of him. The familiar quiet hum of the place seemed to swallow up any lingering awkwardness between us.
I set my bag down on the sofa and made my way over to the desk, trying to appear as casual as possible. I could feel Yoongi’s eyes flicker briefly in my direction, but he didn’t acknowledge me right away. That was fine. No need for anything weird to happen today. I wasn’t going to let it.
“Morning,” I said, offering a neutral smile, willing myself to act as though last night had never even happened.
Yoongi just nodded, his expression still unreadable. "Morning."
I took my seat and opened my notebook, flipping through the pages as if the routine of it all would help settle the tension that had been gnawing at me since our confrontation the night before. The silence between us felt a little less suffocating, though. It wasn’t that we were talking more, it was just that Yoongi didn’t seem as harsh on his tone today. No biting comments yet, no sharp observations either.
He adjusted the volume on the speakers and clicked around on the computer for a few seconds before speaking again. "You finished that beat you were working on Saturday?"
“Yeah, it’s done,” I replied, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were focused on the screen, but I noticed there was a slight change in his demeanour. The tension from before, the coldness, seemed to have faded. It wasn’t gone completely, but it was much more subtle now.
He didn’t respond immediately, just tapped a few keys on the keyboard before nodding. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”
I slid the flash drive with the updated track across the table. Yoongi took it, plugged it into the system, and started the track without a word. The room filled with the sound of the beat I had been perfecting, and I waited, watching his reaction closely.
As the beat played, Yoongi’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t make any negative comments this time. He just let the track play all the way through, his eyes scanning the waveform on the screen, listening intently.
When the track ended, he leaned back in his chair, finally looking over at me. “Not bad.”
I couldn’t help but feel a small relief wash over me. "Not bad" from Yoongi was a compliment, even if it didn’t sound like one. At least he hadn’t outright criticized it.
“Thanks,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel my nerves creeping back up again. “Anything you want me to change?”
Yoongi scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a little too clean. Add some grit, something to make it stand out more. We need it to hit harder.”
I nodded, taking mental notes. “Got it. I’ll work on that.”
It felt almost normal, the way we interacted. No lingering animosity, no mention of what had happened the night before.
As the session continued, the vibe between us remained steady, calm and professional, with just a touch of the underlying tension we hadn’t addressed. We worked for hours, tweaking the track here and there, going back and forth on the sound and rhythm until everything was just the way we wanted it.
At some point, Yoongi stood up and stretched, letting out a quiet sigh. “I’m going to grab a coffee. You want anything?”
I blinked, surprised. He’d never offered to get me anything before, not like this. His tone was casual, though, like it was no big deal.
“I’ll take an iced coffee,” I said, half-smiling at the unexpected gesture.
Yoongi didn’t say anything, just nodded and walked out of the studio. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. It wasn’t like everything was magically fixed, but there was something about this new, less tense dynamic that felt... better. More comfortable, even.
As I sat back in my chair, I tried to focus on the track again, but my mind kept drifting. What has changed between us? I knew I wasn’t imagining it, there was definitely something different today. But I wasn’t sure what to make of it.
When Yoongi came back with the coffee, we fell back into the routine of the session, but now, it felt almost easy. We were working smoothly, and I caught him glancing over at me once or twice, his eyes lingering a little longer than before.
Still, neither of us brought up what happened the night before. Not yet. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Or maybe it was something neither of us wanted to revisit.
***
As the day came to a close, I packed up my things, feeling the weight of the day lifting off my shoulders. I had managed to get through the session with Yoongi without any more awkwardness, which was a small victory in itself. As I grabbed my bag, I looked over at Yoongi, who was already absorbed in his work again.
“See you tomorrow,” I said casually, ready to leave the studio.
Yoongi gave me a small nod, his focus not wavering. “Yeah, see you.”
I left the studio and stepped into the cool evening air, the city lights twinkling in the distance. I needed a distraction. Something to take my mind off everything that had happened with Yoongi.
I pulled out my phone and quickly sent a text to Hoseok.
Y/N: Hey, are you free tonight?
Hoseok: Yeah, I’m free. What’s up?
Y/N: I told you I owe you dinner. Want to grab some barbecue tonight?
Hoseok: Haha, of course I didn’t forget! Even Taehyung reminded me about it last night after you left! So yeah, sure, let’s do it. When and where?
Y/N: How about at 7 at that popular spot in Gangnam?
Hoseok: Perfect! I’ll see you there. I’ll be starving by the time we meet!
Y/N: Same here. I’m ready to eat my weight in meat.
Hoseok: Haha, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N!
Y/N: See you soon!
I smiled as I read our conversation. Hoseok had a way of lightening the mood, and the idea of spending the evening with him, laughing and eating good food, felt like the perfect way to unwind.
When I arrived at the restaurant, the smell of grilled meat hit me as soon as I stepped inside. I scanned the room for Hoseok and spotted him right away. He was sitting at a table near the back, looking up at me with a wide smile as always.
"Y/N!" he greeted me, standing up to wave as I approached.
"Helloo!" I said with a grin, taking my seat across from him.
He immediately grabbed the menu, flipping through it. "So, what are you in the mood for? Meat, meat, and more meat?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
"Definitely," I replied, laughing. "I’ve been craving barbecue all day."
We both ordered a few different cuts of meat, and as we waited for the grill to heat up, Hoseok leaned back in his chair, looking at me curiously.
"So, what happened last night?" he asked casually, the question catching me a bit off guard.
I hesitated for a second, my fingers tapping on the table. "What do you mean?" I asked, pretending not to understand what he was getting at.
"You know... I could tell something was a little off when you left the party, after i caught you with Yoongi at the studio.." Hoseok said, his tone soft but inquisitive. "Everything okay between you two?”
I shrugged, forcing a smile. "Yeah, everything’s fine," I said, though the words didn’t feel entirely true. "We finished the first song. Two more to go, and then we’ll be done."
Hoseok didn’t seem convinced. He nodded and took a sip of his drink before continuing. "Well, that’s good. I’m glad to hear you’re making progress. But, uh... are you sure everything’s okay with him? You know... since you’ve been working really closely together."
I looked down at my hands for a moment, gathering my thoughts. "It’s fine, Hoseok. Really. Just... we have our days, you know?"
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. "If you say so."
The food arrived, and the sizzling sounds of meat on the grill distracted us both for a moment. Hoseok was quick to start cooking, flipping the pieces of meat with ease. The smell was intoxicating, and I could already feel my stomach growling in anticipation.
We continued to eat, talk, and laugh, the mood light and easy. Hoseok was a great conversationalist. We talked about music, our favourite songs, and his plans for the future. It felt so natural, like we’d known each other for years instead of just a month.
At one point, he pulled out his phone. "Hey, I’d like you to hear something," he said, tapping away at the screen. A moment later, his phone was playing a new track, a smooth, upbeat melody that instantly grabbed my attention.
"This is one of my newer tracks," Hoseok said, watching me closely as the music played. "I’m really proud of it so far, but I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. What do you think?"
I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over me. "This is really good, Hoseok," I said, smiling. "It’s got such a great vibe. It’s... it’s got that perfect energy."
He grinned, clearly pleased with the feedback. "Thanks. I’m hoping it’s going to be a hit. But, you know, it’s not finished yet. Still got a bit of work to do."
"Well, I’d be happy to help with anything you need," I said, my tone sincere. "I think you’re on the right track. I can already picture it in a club."
"Yeah? You’re the expert," he said, leaning back in his chair with a proud smile. "Maybe I should bring you on as a collaborator someday."
I raised my eyebrows at the suggestion. "Collaborator? That would be interesting."
Hoseok laughed, shaking his head. "I’m just saying... if you’re up for it…"
"Maybe," I teased, taking a sip of my drink.
As the night went on, we continued to enjoy the barbecue, the conversation flowing easily between us. It was a welcome distraction from the confusion that had been hanging over me lately. It was hard not to feel at ease around Hoseok. He was kind, funny, and genuine in a way that made me feel like I could let my guard down.
Eventually, after we’d eaten our fill and were lounging in our seats, Hoseok pulled out his phone again. "Come on, let’s take a photo," he suggested, grinning. "You know, for the memories."
I nodded with a smile and he grabbed his phone, opening the camera. We both leaned in, the grill between us, holding our drinks up like we were toasting. "Best birthday gift ever," Hoseok said dramatically as the picture snapped, before quickly typing something into his phone.
"Done!" he said proudly. "I posted it to my close friends on Kakao Talk. You know, just in case anyone wants to know how I spent my special days."
I laughed, shaking my head. "You’re crazy."
"I know," he said with a wink, taking another drink from his glass. "But seriously, Y/N, this has been fun. Thanks for asking me to come out tonight. You’re a lot of fun to hang out with."
I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. "Of course. I’m glad we did this. It’s been way too long since I’ve had a night like this myself."
"Same here," Hoseok said with a smile. "We should do it again sometime."
As the night wound down to an end, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. It had been a good night, and it felt like I’d finally had a chance to breathe again. The pressure I’d been carrying, the weight of my thoughts about Yoongi and everything that had happened, seemed to lighten a little as I had sat there across from Hoseok, laughing and eating with no other worries.
When the bill arrived, I was quick to grab it, remembering my promise. "It’s on me tonight," I said, pulling my card out before Hoseok could protest. I shook my head, giving him a playful look. "I owe you dinner, remember?"
He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll let you have your moment." He watched me pay, his expression softening into something more genuine. "But next time, I’m the one picking the place and bill."
"Deal," I said, with a smirk. "But only if it’s something equally as good as tonight."
"Haha, I’ll try," he replied, still laughing.
As we walked out of the restaurant, we decided that the evening had been a success, and that we would definitely plan another time to hang out. It was nice to have a real moment with him, away from all the stress and confusion, it had been exactly what I needed, an evening of laughter, food, and friendship. And for that, I was thankful.
***
The next day, I walked into the studio feeling lighter than I had in weeks. My relationship with Yoongi seemed to had softened after yesterday, and dinner with Hoseok had been a bright spot in an otherwise chaotic schedule. I was ready to tackle the second track with a fresh perspective.
As always, Yoongi was already in the studio when I arrived, sitting at the mixing desk, adjusting levels with his usual quiet focus. He acknowledged me with a small nod as I set up my things. His demeanour seemed normal at first, calm and business like.
We dove into the track, bouncing ideas back and forth. At first, everything felt fine, normal even. But as the hours ticked by, Yoongi’s feedback became sharper, his tone more clipped.
“Can you take this seriously?” he snapped suddenly after I made a suggestion about the arrangement.
I looked up, startled. “I am taking this seriously. What’s going on with you today? You seemed fine yesterday.”
“Nothing’s going on,” he said curtly, not looking at me. His fingers tapped at the keyboard with more force than necessary. “You just need to focus more on the job you’re supposed to do.”
I frowned, confused by his sudden change in attitude. “We’re making progress,” I said cautiously, trying to keep my voice calm. “I’m confident we’ll meet the deadline.”
Yoongi spun his chair to face me, his eyes narrowing. “If you really cared about the deadline, you would focus on the work instead of going out to dinner with Hoseok and wasting your energy there.”
His words hit like a slap. I blinked, completely taken aback. “How do you even know about the dinner?”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “He posted it on Kakao Talk. All the guys were talking about it in the group chat.”
I froze, trying to process what he was saying. Of course Hoseok had shared it, but it was a perfectly innocent dinner, and he’d been excited about it. Still, I felt a strange pang of guilt under Yoongi’s intense gaze.
“I invited him because I felt bad about going to his birthday party without bringing a gift,” I explained, my voice steady but defensive. “I just wanted to make up for it.”
Yoongi’s eyes stayed locked on mine, unreadable. “It’s interesting,” he said coolly, “how close you are with him. I’m the one you work with every day. You don’t see us going to dinner, do you?”
I opened my mouth to respond but hesitated, unsure of what to say. Before I could gather my thoughts, Yoongi waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. Let’s just get back to work.”
The room fell into an awkward silence. I stared at him for a moment longer, trying to make sense of his reaction, but his posture was closed off, his focus fully on the screen in front of him. With a frustrated sigh, I turned back to my notes and forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand.
The rest of the session felt strained. Yoongi’s usual calm, measured feedback was replaced with sharp, almost impatient remarks. It wasn’t just the work, something else was clearly bothering him, but I couldn’t figure out what.
Then, halfway through a take, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression tightening. Without a word, he stood and began gathering his things.
“What’s going on?” I asked, breaking the tense silence.
“Nothing,” he said shortly, not meeting my eyes. “Let’s cut this short today.”
“Yoongi—” I started, but he was already slinging his bag over his shoulder.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his tone final.
And just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the studio. I stared at the door for a long moment, my emotions a mix of confusion and frustration. Whatever had just happened felt personal, even though I couldn’t understand why.
As I packed up my things, my mind kept circling back to his words, to the way he’d looked at me. You don’t see us going to dinner, do you? What did that even mean? Why did it sound like he cared, like it bothered him?
Shaking my head, I gathered my bag and left the studio. No matter how much I wanted to make sense of it, I wasn’t going to let Yoongi’s mood derail the progress we were making, or my own peace of mind. I had a job to do, and I wasn’t about to let this strange tension get in the way.
***
The next day, Yoongi and I exchanged only a few words when I arrived at the studio. His mood seemed calmer than yesterday, though still a little distant. I decided not to push it.
We worked steadily through the day, both of us falling into the rhythm of our tasks. It wasn’t awkward, just focused, like two professionals determined to meet their goal. The hours passed in a blur of music, notes, and adjustments. By the time Yoongi looked up from the computer, his face was lit with mild surprise.
“Ah, shit,” he muttered, glancing at the clock. “It’s late,” rubbing the back of his neck. “We should stop here for today. It’s good progress.”
I nodded and stood up, but as soon as I tried to take a step, my legs wobbled beneath me. I reached out to steady myself against the desk, my vision spinning slightly.
Yoongi was already on his feet, stepping toward me with concern etched on his face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “I think I’m just a little dizzy. Now that I think about it… I didn’t even eat lunch.”
Without a word, he reached for my wrist and tugged gently. “Let’s go.”
“Wait, what?” I asked, caught off guard. “Go where?”
“To eat,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I tried to protest as he led me out of the studio and toward his car. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll grab something on the way home.”
Yoongi ignored me, opening the passenger door and gesturing for me to get in. Reluctantly, I slid into the seat, and he shut the door before walking around to the driver’s side.
The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. I glanced at him a few times, wondering why he was going out of his way like this, but his expression was unreadable.
We arrived at a small, cosy restaurant tucked away in a quiet part of the city. Yoongi parked the car and got out without a word, waiting for me to follow.
Inside, the warm lighting and inviting atmosphere made me relax a little. We were seated at a corner table, and soon, the smell of grilled meat and savoury dishes filled the air.
“About yesterday,” he started, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.
I glanced up, momentarily stunned. He wasn’t looking at me; instead, his gaze was fixed on his plate, as if the words were hard to push out.
“I was out of line,” he admitted, exhaling sharply, almost like the confession itself was a weight lifted.
I blinked, my chopsticks hovering mid-air. Yoongi rarely, if ever, admitted fault. This was unexpected.
“I took a lot of things out on you,” he continued, his tone laced with a hint of self-reproach. His chopsticks moved idly, pushing food around on his plate as if it could somehow distract him from the vulnerability of the moment. “Things that weren’t your fault. And for that, I’m sorry.”
The sincerity in his voice made my breath catch. This wasn’t the stoic, sharp-tongued producer I’d been working with for weeks. This was Yoongi stripped of his usual defences, and it threw me off balance.
“You... You’re apologizing?” I finally said, a mix of disbelief and teasing slipping into my tone.
His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Yeah. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“I mean, how can I not?” I said, leaning back in my chair, folding my arms in mock astonishment. “Min Yoongi admitting he’s wrong? I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”
Despite his attempt at brushing it off, I could tell the apology mattered to him. He wasn’t the type to say things he didn’t mean, and the effort behind his words wasn’t lost on me.
“Look,” he continued after a moment, his voice steadying. “Yesterday... I just have been under a lot of pressure, and I let it get to me. That wasn’t fair to you. You’ve been working hard, and I should’ve recognized that.”
“Thank you,” I said, my voice softer now. “That means a lot.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between us melting away. As the meal went on, we started to relax, trading small talk about work and life. Yoongi even ordered a bottle of wine, and soon we were sipping glasses of it, the conversation growing lighter.
For the first time, it felt like I was seeing a different side of him, one that wasn’t guarded or buried in his work. And for a moment, it was easy to forget the weight of the studio, the deadlines, and everything else that had been hanging over us.
By the end of the night, my cheeks ached from laughing, a rare, warm contentment spreading through me. Yoongi had surprised me, not just with his apology, but with the way he let his guard down, even if just a little. Maybe he wasn’t as closed off as I’d assumed. Maybe there was more to him than I’d ever expected.
As we stepped outside the restaurant, the crisp night air greeted us.
"Hey, you can’t drive now since you’ve had a drink," I said, glancing at Yoongi. "Should we call a taxi or something? Or maybe Hobi? I saw his stories, he was bored at home, he could probably come pick us up."
Yoongi’s expression shifted, and he immediately shook his head. "No," he said, his voice firm. "I’ll handle it. I’m calling Jihoon."
I raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment but let it slide. The warmth from the alcohol in my system faded quickly, leaving me shivering slightly in the cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stave off the chill.
Yoongi noticed. “It’s getting cold,” he said, almost to himself. Before I could respond, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it around my shoulders.
The unexpected gesture made me pause. The weight of the jacket and the faint scent of his cologne caught me off guard. I looked up at him, my eyes wide. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” I said softly.
He waved it off. “It’s fine. I’m not cold.”
I tilted my head, sceptical. “Really? Your hands must be freezing,” I said, blowing warm air over my own hands and rubbing them together in a futile attempt to warm them.
Yoongi’s eyes flicked to my hands, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he reached out, wrapping his hands gently over mine. The sudden warmth of his touch stopped me in my tracks.
His hands were warm, enveloping mine completely. I glanced up at him, startled. He didn’t say anything, his gaze locked on mine, intense yet unreadable. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of us standing there, connected by something unspoken.
My breath hitched, the moment heavy with tension neither of us dared to break. But before it could go any further, the sound of a taxi pulling up snapped us back to reality.
“Jihoon’s here,” Yoongi said, his voice steady as he stepped back, letting my hands go.
I quickly pulled my hands behind my back, hiding the tingling warmth that lingered from his touch. Jihoon stepped out of the car, waving casually as he approached.
“Thanks for coming,” Yoongi said, handing him the keys to his car.
“No problem,” Jihoon replied with a grin. “You guys look like you had a good night.”
Yoongi nodded and gestured for me to get in the backseat. He opened the door for me, waiting until I was seated before climbing in beside me.
The ride was quiet, with Jihoon humming along to the radio in the front seat. I stared out the window, my thoughts swirling as I replayed the events of the night. The warmth of Yoongi’s jacket around my shoulders and the memory of his hands over mine lingered, leaving me more confused than ever.
Unable to resist, I flicked my gaze toward him. His profile was sharp in the dim light, the strong line of his jaw catching my attention. Why does he have to look like that? My eyes drifted downward, landing on his hands resting casually on his lap. Those veiny, capable hands that had so effortlessly wrapped around mine earlier.
My face grew warm as I recalled the moment, a rush of heat spreading through me. Embarrassed by my own thoughts, I quickly snapped my gaze back to the window, determined not to look at him again for the rest of the ride. ‘Focus on something else, anything else,’ I told myself, even as my heart stubbornly refused to settle.
When we pulled up in front of my place, Jihoon parked smoothly, and Yoongi stepped out of the car before I could say anything. He stood there for a moment, looking composed as ever, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.
“Bye,” he said simply, his voice even but low enough to make my stomach flip. “See you tomorrow.”
I managed a small smile. “Okay. Bye.”
He watched me walk to my door, and when I turned back for a second, he was already getting back into the car. Jihoon gave a small wave before driving off, leaving me standing there, suddenly alone.
Once inside, I leaned against the door, the events of the evening replaying in my mind like a whirlwind. Dinner, the jacket, his hands over mine... It was all too much. I sighed, pulling the jacket off to hang it up, only to freeze mid-motion.
“Oh no.” My voice echoed in the quiet space. His jacket. I still had it.
I grabbed my phone, typing quickly.
Me: I just realized I still have your jacket. Did you guys leave already?
His reply came faster than I expected.
Yoongi: It’s fine. You can give it back another day.
I stared at the screen, his words making me bite my lip. For a moment, I debated responding, but what else was there to say? Sighing, I put my phone down and folded the jacket neatly. The faint scent of him lingered, a mix of something warm and clean, distinctly Yoongi.
I groaned softly, shaking my head. “Don’t overthink it.”
But as I walked away, I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror, my flushed cheeks betraying my effort to play it cool.
***
The next day, everything felt smoother. The tension from the past week seemed to have evaporated, leaving behind a productive atmosphere in the studio. Yoongi and I worked through the second track effortlessly, the beats and lyrics falling into place with surprising speed. By lunchtime, we had made significant progress, and the track was nearly perfect. Yoongi gave a brief nod of approval before leaning back in his chair.
"One more to go," he said, his tone casual, but I could tell he was feeling a sense of accomplishment too.
Just then, the door to the studio opened with a loud creak, and Hoseok walked in, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted us.
"Hey, look at you two," he said, his voice light. "I come in, and it’s all quiet. Something going on huh?"
Yoongi and I exchanged a glance. "The second track is done, so we're almost there. One more track, and the album’s done."
Hoseok leaned against the doorframe, his expression softening slightly. "Damn, it’s hard to believe we’re almost there." His eyes flickered toward Yoongi, then back at me. "I’m excited, but... also a little nervous. You know, with everything happening soon."
I raised an eyebrow, curious. "What’s going on? What are you talking about?"
Hoseok sighed dramatically, walking further into the room. "Well, since you two are now so close to wrapping up, I need to tell you something." He sat down on the edge of a nearby desk, his eyes locking on me. "I’m going to the military soon."
For a moment, there was silence as I processed the information. My stomach dropped slightly as the reality of it set in. "Wait, you’re leaving already?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could think.
Hoseok smiled gently, his eyes a little softer than usual. "Yeah. It’s going to happen soon. So..." He leaned forward, his tone turning playful but with an undercurrent of something more serious. "I’m going to use that to guilt-trip you two into hanging out with me tomorrow night. I’m hosting a little get-together at my place. Come along, since you’ve worked hard on this album, you deserve a break. You know you want to. Let’s have one last hurrah before I disappear for a while."
Yoongi, who had been silent until now, looked up with a raised eyebrow. "You really think you can just guilt-trip us into going out?"
Hoseok nodded with a sly grin. "Yup. It’s my last chance to make you guys hang out with me before I go. Please?" He looked at both of us, his expression softening, almost pleading.
Yoongi shot me a glance, and I shrugged. "I mean, we’re done with the second track, so it wouldn’t hurt to let loose for a night."
Yoongi looked hesitant for a moment, but Hoseok wasn’t backing down. "Come on, it’s just one night. You can relax and have some fun. Besides, you two need a break, right?"
I chuckled, the tension in the room starting to melt. "Alright, alright. I’ll come, Hoseok. You don’t need to keep trying to guilt-trip us." Yoongi also nodded.
Hoseok’s face lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Yes! That’s what I’m talking about. You won’t regret it. I’m inviting a few people, and we’ll just hang out, eat, talk, maybe play some games."
Yoongi grunted, but there was no denying the slight curve of a smile on his lips. "Fine. One night. But don’t expect us to get drunk or anything."
Hoseok laughed, shaking his head. "Who said anything about getting drunk? I just want to spend some time together, that’s all. We’re all so busy, and before you know it, I’ll be gone."
He was right. As much as we all had our own things to focus on, this was a moment to come together before everything changed. And honestly, after working so hard on the album, I could use a little time to relax.
"Alright, we’re in. What time should we be there?" I asked, already feeling a little more at ease about it.
"7 PM. Don’t be late," Hoseok said with a wink. "I’m going to make sure there’s food, so just come hungry."
"Okay," I agreed, nodding. "See you tomorrow, then."
As Hoseok left the studio, I glanced over at Yoongi, who was already back to his work. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite everything, the day had been productive, and now we were going to take some time for ourselves. I didn’t know how often I’d get moments like these, where things felt normal, light and easy.
"Guess we’re going to Hoseok’s," I said, trying to keep things casual.
Yoongi gave a small nod, his expression unreadable as always, but there was a faint sense of relaxation in his posture. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered again, almost as if to convince himself.
***
The next day, Yoongi and I had somehow hit a streak, two days in a row of working together without any tension. We finished everything we had planned for the day, and as the evening rolled around, we were both in a surprisingly good mood.
As the last song for the day played out, I looked up from my computer and caught Yoongi’s eye.
"Guess that’s a wrap for today," I said, stretching out my arms. "See you at the party, yeah?"
Yoongi gave me a small nod, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, see you there."
I stood up to grab my things, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. It had been a long time since we’d gotten along this well, and I wasn’t going to overthink it. Tonight was supposed to be fun, a chance to relax.
"Try not to get too drunk," I teased lightly as I started toward the door.
Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Could say the same thing to you.”
"Uh-huh," I shot back, laughing as I left the room. "Sure."
As I walked out, I could feel the lightness in my step. For once, it felt like things were moving in the right direction. The night ahead felt full of possibilities, even if it was just hanging out with the rest of the team.
When I got home, I quickly changed into something casual, not wanting to overdo it for Hoseok’s party. I kept it simple, a pair of jeans and a loose top. Around 7 PM, I made my way to Hoseok’s place, and when I arrived, I found the others already there.
The atmosphere was warm and relaxed, the smell of food filling the air. The place was buzzing with laughter and easy conversation. I caught sight of Yoongi sitting at the corner of the room, his usual calm demeanour in place, but there was something different about him tonight.
His hair was styled, and the black shirt he was wearing seemed to fit him just right, accentuating his broad shoulders. There was an easy confidence in his posture, and as I studied him for a moment, I realized he looked… hot.
I quickly averted my gaze, not wanting to get caught staring. The last thing I needed was to get all flustered over him again. I turned my attention to the rest of the room and spotted Hoseok in the middle of a conversation with a few other guests. He seemed to be doing his usual thing, laughing and talking animatedly, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to interrupt just yet.
Instead, I made my way over to where Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung were chatting near the food table. They were all mid-laugh when I approached, and Jungkook waved me over with a grin.
“Y/N! Come join us, we were just talking about the new choreography for a music video,” he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
“Oh? What is it about this choreography?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Taehyung leaned in with a mischievous grin. “We’re learning this really complicated move that involves, like, spinning and flipping, but it looks ridiculous when we try it,” he said, laughing.
Jimin jumped in. “Taehyung’s over-exaggerating, it’s not that bad. But we’re definitely working on something new for the next video, and it’s going to be fun.”
“Yeah, we’re going to have to rehearse a lot,” Jungkook added with a playful smirk. “Taehyung might need extra practice though,” he teased.
I chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll all manage. You guys are pros, after all.”
Taehyung pouted but then grinned again. “Yeah, but you should see us try. We look like a bunch of drunk chickens. Maybe we’ll film it for behind-the-scenes footage.”
“Please do, I’d love to see that,” I replied, laughing along with them.
As we were talking, I noticed Hoseok making his way over with a big smile on his face. He clapped his hands together and announced, “Alright, everyone, I think it’s time for a drinking game! Who’s in? It’s going to be fun, I promise!”
Jimin immediately jumped up, grinning. “I’m in! Let’s do this!”
“Count me in too,” Taehyung said, raising his hand. “I’m ready to win this game.”
I glanced at Jungkook, who gave a playful nod. “Let’s go. This should be interesting.”
With that, the four of us headed over to the designated table where the drinks were already set up. Hoseok was already grinning, ready to start the game, and I couldn’t help but feel a little excited about just having fun and not overthinking things.
The game started with some light-hearted activities, rapid-fire questions, and silly tasks that made everyone laugh. It was a great way to break the ice, and before long, we were all feeling more relaxed, enjoying the playful atmosphere.
Then, the game shifted into something a bit more daring: Love Shots. The concept was simple: when the bottle spun, it landed on a couple who had to take a shot together. The catch? You had to show the best “couple moment” before drinking.
I glanced around at everyone as the bottle spun, my heart racing a little at the thought of it landing on someone I knew. Of course, it landed on me and Hoseok first. He flashed me a grin that was as mischievous as it was charming.
"Well, looks like we're the first couple for the night, huh?" he said, winking.
I laughed and leaned in slightly. "Guess so. Let’s make this quick, yeah?"
We took our shot in sync, laughing after, and I couldn’t help but notice the way Hoseok’s eyes sparkled when he was having fun. It made me a little giddy.
The game continued, and once again, the bottle spun, this time landing on Hoseok and me again. A few people around the table groaned, teasing us about being the “official couple.” We just grinned at each other, ready for the next round.
I quickly glanced over at Yoongi, who had been quiet all night, sitting at the table but not participating. He wasn’t drinking either. His gaze was locked on Hoseok and me, and there was a strange tension in his expression. He wasn’t judging, but he wasn’t engaging either. It was hard to ignore, and I wondered if he was actually bothered by us being partnered up for the game.
Earlier, I had briefly talked to him when the game first started. I asked why he wasn’t drinking, and he had simply said, “Not feeling like it tonight.” There was something about his tone that made me want to ask more, but I didn’t push it. He wasn’t the type to open up unless he was ready.
"Alright, Y/N, it’s your turn again!" Taehyung called out, snapping me out of my thoughts.
The bottle spun again, and this time, it landed on Hoseok and me again. We both burst into laughter, but this time I noticed Yoongi’s eyes briefly flicker towards us. He didn’t look away, but he didn’t speak either. He just observed, his hands folded in front of him as the game carried on.
Hoseok, being a bit more playful, shot me a grin and said, “Guess we’re really the perfect couple, huh?”
I smirked, playing along. “Yeah, looks like I’m stuck with you, Hobi.”
We drank again, and I could feel the warmth of the alcohol creeping through me, loosening my nerves and making everything feel lighter. But despite the fun, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Yoongi’s quiet presence at the table was adding a certain weight to the game. His lack of participation made the contrast between us even more noticeable.
The game finally came to an end after what felt like hours of spinning bottles and laughing until our sides hurt. But as the night wore on, a lot of people were either passed out, waiting for their turn, or feeling too sleepy to continue. I noticed the energy in the room starting to wind down, and with work to do tomorrow, I figured it was best to leave.
I stood up, scanning the room for Hoseok. I spotted him laughing with a few of the other guests, his eyes bright and full of energy despite the late hour. I made my way over to him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.
“Hey, Hobi,” I said, offering him a warm smile. “I think I’m going to head out now. I’ve got work tomorrow.”
Hoseok turned to me with a disappointed but understanding expression. “Aww, already? Well, it was really fun having you here. You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”
I shook my head, grateful for the offer but knowing he had a lot of guests to attend to. “Nah, you stay and enjoy. I’ll just grab a taxi. I’ll be fine.”
Before Hoseok could respond, there was a shift in the air. Yoongi, who had been quiet all evening, stood up suddenly from his spot at the table. His voice was calm, but his words caught us both off guard.
“I’m leaving. I’ll take Y/N with me,” he said, tone firm but casual.
The room fell a bit quieter at his declaration. Hoseok blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Yoongi to step in. There was an unspoken tension as we all stood there for a moment, unsure of how to react.
I quickly turned to Hoseok, offering him one last smile. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Thanks for everything tonight.”
Hoseok smiled back, still a little surprised by Yoongi’s sudden intervention, but he nodded. “Alright, take care. See you soon.”
I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else before I quickly made my way toward the door, following Yoongi. I couldn’t help but feel a little flustered. What just happened? Why did Yoongi suddenly decide to take me home?
“Yoongi, wait up!” I called out, catching up to him as he made his way outside.
Yoongi was already ahead, his long strides purposeful. When I caught up with him, I hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Yoongi… you didn’t have to do this, you know…”
He didn’t look at me as he continued walking, but his voice was calm. “It’s fine. You’re not going to take a taxi alone this late. It’s safer this way.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but I stopped myself. There was something in the way he said it that made me not want to push back. Instead, I just followed him outside, the cool night air brushing against my skin as we made our way to the car.
I had no idea what this meant, or what was running through Yoongi’s mind, but for now, I was just grateful that he had decided to take me home.
The drive back home was quiet but comfortable, with only the hum of the car filling the space between us. It wasn’t awkward, though. There was something peaceful about it, something unspoken that made the silence feel easy.
When we arrived at my apartment block, Yoongi stepped out of the car first, walking around to open the door for me.
“Thanks,” I said softly, already preparing to say my goodbyes as I stepped out.
But before I could, Yoongi spoke up, his tone surprisingly serious. “Actually… Can I have my jacket back?”
I blinked in confusion, not entirely sure I’d heard him right. “Seriously?” I asked, laughing a little at the unexpected request. “You’re really asking for it back now?”
He glanced at me with a small shrug, his eyes hiding whatever thoughts were going through his mind. “It’s cold,” he said simply.
I let out a sigh. “Okay, follow me. I took it from the dry cleaners today, and I was planning on bringing it to you tomorrow.”
I stepped inside my apartment, Yoongi following and standing halfway between the living room and the corridor. I quickly scanned the room, searching for the bag with the jacket in it. The silence stretched on as I fumbled through a few things, but Yoongi broke it, his voice unexpectedly blunt.
“So, you and Hobi, huh?”
I paused for a second, confused by the sudden shift in the conversation. “What about me and Hobi?”
“Well, all the dinners, the flirting today with the love shots… is there anything I should know about?” His gaze was steady, but I could see something flicker in his eyes.
I shook my head, trying to keep my tone light. “No, we’re just friends. He’s actually a nice person who respects me and my work.”
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just me overthinking things, but Yoongi’s next words caught me off guard. “But I thought these past few days we were on good terms as well.”
I felt a little defensive at that. “But I’m not working with Hobi. I’m not under a contract with him.”
Yoongi didn’t seem satisfied. “Besides all that, I still felt like we could be more than just coworkers.”
I blinked, not sure if I understood him right. “What? Do you want us to be friends?” I joked, trying to deflect the tension.
Yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly, but I continued “Do you even hear yourself right now? If I had told Min Yoongi two months ago that he’d be asking me to be friends, he would’ve laughed in my face.”
Yoongi’s expression darkened for a moment. “Hell no, I don’t want to be friends with you.”
I crossed my arms, trying to hide the sudden heat rising to my cheeks. “Pff, then I don’t want to be friends with you either,” I shot back, scoffing. “Besides, you’re the one who brought it up in the first place. You were the one sulking about me being friends with Hobi and not with you.”
Yoongi’s eyes flickered with irritation. “I’m not sulking because you are friends with him, I am because you are close to a guy that’s not me.” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it.
“What?” I asked, genuinely confused.
Yoongi took a step closer, his expression darkening. “Let’s cut the crap. You’re telling me that after everything that’s been happening these past two months, the tension, the lingering touches… you never felt anything?” His eyes were locked onto mine, searching for something in them.
My breath hitched in my throat, but before I could respond, he continued. “And after what happened at Hobi’s birthday party… you didn’t move away from me. Hell, you were practically begging me to kiss you with the way you were looking at me. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it too.”
I froze, my mind racing, trying to process his words. I hadn’t expected him to bring up that night, let alone accuse me of anything. My pulse quickened as I searched his face, unsure of what to say.
Yoongi watched me closely, waiting for my response, but all I could do was stare at him, caught in the web of his words.
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, stepping back slightly, trying to play it cool, but my heart was pounding in my chest. Yoongi’s gaze was intense, his expression unreadable, and I couldn’t help but feel exposed under the weight of his words. Was he serious? Was I imagining all of this? I didn’t want to admit it, but everything he said was starting to make sense, whether I liked it or not.
Yoongi didn’t seem satisfied with my denial. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine with a new intensity. “Oh really?” he murmured, his voice low and steady, but there was a hint of something sharper in it now. “Then tell me to stop.”
Before I could process the situation, before I could even think about what to say, he was on me. His lips crashed into mine with a sudden force that caught me off guard. The kiss was hard, desperate, as if he was trying to prove something to both of us. His hands gripped my arms firmly, pulling me in closer.
For a few seconds, I froze, not sure how to respond. His lips moved against mine with an urgency that made my mind race, but my body just… didn’t react. I couldn’t. My heart was beating so fast, my thoughts tangled in confusion. Was this real? Was he really kissing me?
Yoongi pulled back suddenly, his hands dropping from my arms. He stepped away, his expression flickering with something I couldn’t quite place. His breathing was heavier now, and he seemed to be searching for something in my eyes, a sign, maybe, of whether or not I felt the same.
“I— maybe I misunderstood,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice quieter, as if the weight of his actions was suddenly dawning on him.
His words trailed off into a shaky breath, and for a moment, it felt like the room held its breath, everything hanging in the air between us. I stood there, wide-eyed, my lips tingling from the kiss, not knowing how to process what had just happened.
Yoongi’s eyes flicked to the ground for a second, and he muttered a curse under his breath. “Fuck…I’m sorry… I actually thought…” He cut himself off, looking at me like he was trying to gauge my reaction, like he was waiting for me to say something, anything.
The silence between us stretched on, thick and heavy, and I could feel my chest tightening with every passing second. I couldn’t let him walk away thinking he had made a mistake. I couldn’t just stand there and let this moment slip away.
Without even thinking, I stepped forward, my hands shaking slightly, but I reached for him. I grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him closer to me until there was no space left between us. My heart was still racing, but this time, there was no hesitation. I kissed him back, pressing my lips to his with the same urgency that he had given me.
Yoongi stiffened at first, but after a second, he responded, his hands coming up to cup my face as he kissed me back. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. His kiss was deep, full of everything he hadn’t said, all the things that had been building up between us. His lips moved against mine, his fingers threading into my hair as he pulled me closer, if that was even possible.
I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the way his heart seemed to be racing just as fast as mine. The world outside of us faded, and for the first time in a long time, all I could think about was him, Yoongi, and this moment we were sharing.
When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, I was left reeling. My mind was spinning, but there was something in the way Yoongi looked at me, something that made it all feel right, even if it didn’t quite make sense yet.
I took a step back, trying to catch my breath, still processing everything that had just happened. "What’s happening?" I asked softly, my voice a little unsteady. "Are you sure tomorrow you're not just going to act like none of this happened?"
Yoongi didn’t say anything right away. He seemed to be weighing my words carefully, like he was searching for the right response.
Then, he took a slow step forward, closing the distance between us once more. His eyes were intense, but there was a softness in them now, something that made me feel like I wasn’t just some passing thought. "Nah," Yoongi finally spoke, his voice low and steady. "Let me show you how much I've been stopping myself from anything happening."
Before I could process his words, his hands were on me again, pulling me back toward him with an urgency that caught me off guard. He kissed me again, this time it wasn’t rushed, but full of something more than just desire.
Yoongi’s hands were gentle yet firm as he backed me toward the living room, the heat of his body practically radiating against mine. I could feel my pulse quicken with every step he took. When my backside finally met the armrest of the sofa, a shock of electricity shot through me, my heart hammering in my chest.
He didn’t give me a moment to breathe before his hands were on me again, this time lifting me effortlessly, laying me down onto the sofa. I gasped slightly as I landed, and Yoongi followed, his body pressing over mine, his presence suffocating in the best way.
His eyes never left mine, and the way he hovered above me, his weight just barely touching me, made my stomach twist with anticipation. "Are you gonna tell me to stop, Y/N?" Yoongi's voice was rough, but there was something almost challenging in it. He leaned in slightly, the tip of his nose grazing mine as he waited for my response. "Or are you actually gonna admit how much you want this? That this is actually happening."
I swallowed hard, my mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. I was caught between every instinct screaming at me to push him away, to stop this before it went any further, and another side of me that wanted to give in, to feel everything he was offering without hesitation.
His lips hovered just inches from mine, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, making my heart race. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I just looked at him, trying to understand what this all meant.
The silence between us was almost suffocating now, the tension thick as I weighed my next move. Yoongi didn’t pull away, didn’t pressure me further. He just waited, giving me space, but still holding me in place with that unyielding gaze of his.
For a moment, I thought I might choke on the words I wanted to say. But the truth was, I already knew. I couldn’t deny it anymore.
"I—" My voice faltered, and I quickly cleared my throat, suddenly feeling exposed. "I want this," I admitted, the words coming out breathlessly, almost as if they were ripped from me. It was scary, letting the truth hang in the air between us, but it felt... necessary.
Yoongi’s eyes softened, just a little. He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine once more, but this time, it wasn’t a question. It was an answer, his answer to everything we had left unsaid.
Despite the clothes still between us, I wrapped my legs around his body, pulling him closer, craving more of the intimacy building between us. Yoongi’s voice was low and dripping with desire as he whispered, “Good, because I’ve been dying to know how you taste…”
Smirking, he lowered himself further, letting his breath ghost over my pants. My heart raced as I gave him a silent nod, granting permission. Slowly, he unzipped them, his movements deliberate and teasing. My breath hitched as he slid my pants down my legs, throwing them on the floor. Just as he hooked a finger under my panties to remove them, I gently stopped his hand.
“Wait…” I whispered, my voice shaky. Gathering what little confidence I had, I added, “It’s only fair you lose a piece of clothing too.”
His eyebrow quirked up in amusement. “Desperate to see me naked already, Y/N?” he teased.
“Huh, you’re the one who just claimed you’ve been dying to know how I—”
Before I could finish, Yoongi silenced me with a kiss, his lips rough and insistent, leaving me breathless. His tongue swept against mine, teeth grazing in just the right way. When he finally pulled back to let us catch our breath, he reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. Smirking, he stood before me, his torso now bare, revealing his defined muscles despite the soft lines of his body.
“There. Happy now?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.
This man. Such a tease.
“Much better,” I quipped with a smirk of my own.
“Now, let me finish what I started,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. “Let you experience my famous tongue technology...…” His lips quirked into a mischievous smile as he lowered himself between my thighs, his hands trailing down to hook under the waistband of my panties. He slipped them down with tantalizing slowness, his fingers brushing against my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“Who calls—” I started, but the words dissolved into a gasp as his tongue made its first bold stroke, fast and deliberate, over my folds. My head fell back against the sofa, a moan escaping before I could even think to stop it.
He didn’t give me time to recover. His tongue moved again, sweeping over me with precision, eliciting another sharp cry. Each stroke was firm, purposeful, and maddeningly good. My body arched into him, instinctively chasing the pleasure he so expertly provided.
“Yoongi,” I managed to whisper, my voice shaky and strained, but he didn’t respond, not with words at least. Instead, his lips and tongue continued their relentless exploration, the wet heat of his mouth driving me to the edge of reason.
My hands shot to his hair, my fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling lightly, not to guide him, but to ground myself. His name fell from my lips in fragmented pleas, each one blending into the next. His low hum of approval vibrated against me, sending an electric shock straight to my core.
He reached for one of my knees, pushing it further aside to open me up to him completely. His grip was firm yet gentle, and the shift only deepened the intensity of his attention. His tongue flicked, swirled, and teased, hitting every spot that made my body tremble.
The room was thick with the sound of my ragged breathing and unrestrained moans. Each cry seemed to fuel him, urging him on as his pace quickened. I gripped his hair tighter, the sensation building with every stroke. A hand reached for his shoulder, my nails grazing the smooth heat of his skin.
“Yoongi…” I whimpered, my voice shaky and raw, a desperate plea in the form of his name.
He pulled back briefly, his lips glistening as he looked up at me with a devilish smirk. “That was to answer your question,” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. He ran his tongue slowly over his lips, collecting anything he’d missed, and the sight alone sent another wave of heat through me.
I couldn’t let him have the upper hand, not entirely. Tugging at his hair, I directed him back between my thighs. “Less talking,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, “more doing.”
He chuckled low, the sound vibrating against me as he dove back in without hesitation. This time, his movements were even more determined, his tongue working with an intensity that made me cry out. My body writhed against him, my breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps as I clung to him, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through me.
Yoongi’s hands gripped my thighs firmly, keeping me in place as he worked his magic. His tongue alternated between long, teasing strokes and quick, precise flicks, sending me spiraling closer to the edge.
He was relentless, unyielding, and devastatingly good. Too good. If he could do this with just his tongue, the thought of what else he could do made my head spin. The heat pooling low in my belly grew hotter, tighter, until it felt like I might combust.
“Yoongi,” I gasped, my voice breaking as my body tensed beneath his touch. “I think I’m gonna—”
“Cum on my mouth, baby,” he murmured against me, his voice low and commanding, the vibrations sending me over the edge.
I shattered, my release hitting me like a tidal wave. My back arched, my head falling back as his name tore from my lips in a broken cry. My vision blurred, and for a moment, all I could feel was the overwhelming heat of pleasure washing over me.
He didn’t stop, his tongue continuing to lap at me, drawing out every last tremor until I was trembling beneath him. When he finally pulled back, his face was smug, his lips glistening as he swiped his tongue over them again.
“You taste better than I imagined,” he murmured, and my cheeks flushed at his confession. How many times had this man fantasized about this? It wasn’t like I hadn’t entertained some dirty thoughts over the past weeks, but hearing him say it out loud, so unabashedly, felt different.
Before I could reply, Yoongi leaned back up and kissed me passionately, sharing the taste of myself on his lips. The kiss was deep and consuming, his tongue sweeping over mine with deliberate slowness. Then he trailed wet kisses down to my neck, biting softly, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make a point. It was possessive in the most exciting way.
As he toyed with the hem of my shirt, I decided to turn the tables. My hands moved to the waistband of his pants undoing his zipper. He froze for a moment, his eyes wide, searching mine. “Y/N… you don’t have to. Just because—”
“I want to,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest. His breath escaped in a shaky exhale at my words.
“Besides,” I teased, leaning in closer, my lips brushing against his ear, “let me show you what other sounds these hands can produce.”
I bit my bottom lip as I pulled his pants down completely, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. My hand brushed over him, his length already hard and straining against the fabric. My fingers lightly grazed over him, stroking just enough to tease. Yoongi hissed, a mix of pleasure and frustration.
“Y/N… don’t tease me,” he groaned, his voice thick with need.
“Me? Tease you?” I feigned innocence, grinning up at him as my hand continued its slow, deliberate motions. He let out a shaky breath, his hips instinctively bucking toward my touch.
I leaned up to capture his lips again, all while my hand maintained its slow, torturous rhythm. “Y/N…” Yoongi moaned, the sound low and drawn out.
With that, I tugged his boxers down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. My hand wrapped around him, the heat and hardness startling me for a moment. Pre-cum was already dripping from his tip, and I swiped my thumb over it, spreading it along his length as he trembled beneath my touch.
His hips instinctively bucked forward, chasing the friction as a low groan escaped his lips. My fingers moved deliberately, starting with slow, measured strokes that made his thighs tense beneath me.
“Y/N…” His voice was barely above a whisper, a strained mixture of need and restraint.
I leaned forward, brushing a kiss along his jawline before murmuring, “Relax.” My breath was hot against his skin, and I could feel the shudder it sent through his body.
One hand worked up and down his length, my palm twisting slightly with each stroke, while the other cupped and teased his balls, massaging them gently. His body responded to every touch, his muscles taut and trembling as he fought to stay in control.
“Fuck…” he groaned, his brows furrowed, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his chest heaved with uneven breaths.
The intimacy of it all had my own heart racing, my body reacting to the sight of him unraveling beneath me. My hand picked up speed, stroking him faster and firmer, my thumb gliding over his sensitive tip with each pass.
“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, his voice rough and breathless.
“Good,” I teased, leaning in to kiss his collarbone, my lips trailing over the sharp lines of his neck. “That’s the idea.”
His hips lifted again, chasing the rhythm of my hand. His groans deepened, each one more desperate than the last. The sounds he made were intoxicating, sending heat pooling low in my belly.
“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice cracking slightly. One of his hands reached out, gripping my thigh tightly as though he needed something to anchor himself.
Yoongi eyes fluttered open, locking onto mine with a fiery intensity. “I’m—”
“I know,” I cut him off softly, my hand never slowing.
His half-lidded eyes met mine, his skin glistening with sweat. “Where…?” he managed to ask, his voice barely audible.
I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I went to my knees and opened my mouth, holding his gaze. His expression faltered for a split second, a mix of desperation and awe flashing across his face.
Yoongi adjusted slightly, taking his cock in his own hand, his body hovering over mine, and with a few more strokes, he spilled into my mouth. I took everything, swallowing it down as I maintained eye contact. His breathing was ragged, and I could feel the slight tremble in his legs as I kissed the tip of his cock, making sure nothing was left behind.
When it was over, he sank down, his body pressing against mine. His lips found mine again, kissing me deeply, as if he couldn’t get enough.
When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against my shoulder, his voice soft but filled with satisfaction. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”
Yoongi’s hand trailed lazily across my skin, finding the thin strap of my bra under my shirt. “Next time,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “I’ll make sure you’re not wearing anything at all.”
He hooked a finger under the strap, pulling it slightly before letting it snap back against my skin with a soft smack. I gasped, half-laughing, and swatted at his chest, but he just grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
With a satisfied sigh, he stood up, stretching slightly before scanning the room. His pants and boxers lay crumpled on the floor a few steps away. “As much as I love this view,” he teased, casting a lingering look at me sprawled on the sofa now, “we might want to at least partially dress before someone accidentally walks in.”
Rolling my eyes, even though I lived alone, I reached down to grab my panties, slipping them on with a quick movement. “Happy now?” I quipped, arching an eyebrow as he smirked at me.
“Not entirely,” he shot back smoothly, already heading to the smaller sofa across the room. He grabbed the folded blanket and returned to the larger couch where I laid, tossing it over us as he sat back down and pulled me toward him.
“And why is that?” I teased, arching a brow as I snuggled into his chest.
He smirked, his arms wrapping securely around me as he scooped me into a comfortable position against him. His warmth enveloped me, and I felt myself relaxing despite my teasing words.
“Because, I’ve been messing up so far,” he said, his voice soft but firm, “ but I’m not letting you go away this time.”
I blinked, startled by the quiet sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t just a playful remark; it felt like a promise, one that made my heart flutter and my chest tighten all at once.
“You’re stuck with me now, Y/N,” he added, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Hope you can handle that.”
I couldn’t help but smile, burying my face against his chest to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “We’ll see,” I replied softly, my voice muffled away.
For the first time in a long while, I felt safe. Wrapped in his arms, I allowed myself to close my eyes, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.
***
The next morning, I woke up to an unsettling emptiness. The warmth of Yoongi’s embrace from last night was gone, replaced by the coolness of the sofa beneath me. Disoriented, I blinked against the soft morning light streaming through the curtains. Everything about last night had felt surreal—like the universe had finally shifted into place. But now, as I sat up and looked around the room, it all felt like a dream.
My gaze darted to the floor, where his shirt had been tossed haphazardly, and the hallway where his shoes had been kicked off. They were gone. Every trace of him had vanished. A sinking feeling settled in my chest.
Did he regret this? Was it a mistake for him?
I couldn’t stop the questions from flooding my mind, each one louder and more insistent than the last. For me, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not even close. Last night had been a moment of pure, unfiltered connection, a night that felt like it had shattered every barrier between us.
But had it meant the same to him?
Frustration began to bubble up, mixed with a touch of anger. If he had regrets, he should’ve said something. Leaving like this? That was low.
Determined not to let him get away with it, I marched to my room, pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and a casual shirt. If he thought he could disappear without a word, he had another thing coming. The moment I was tugging on my shoes, ready to storm out and demand answers, my phone buzzed on the coffee table.
I snatched it up, my frustration spilling over as I saw Minji’s name on the screen. Great, this better not be about work, I thought as I pressed the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I said curtly.
“Y/N, are you okay?” Minji’s tone was brisk but edged with concern.
“What do you mean?” I asked, more annoyed than curious.
Minji sighed heavily on the other end. “That’s good. You’re fine. I was worried for a second. Didn’t you hear? Someone raided HYBE last night. A crazy fan broke in and they believe they were trying to expose Suga’s album.”
“What?” I froze, my heart skipping a beat as her words sank in.
“Yeah, it’s all over the news this morning. Security’s gone into overdrive,” Minji continued. “Anyway, just wanted to check if you were caught up in any of it.”
“I have to go,” I said abruptly, hanging up before she could respond.
My mind raced. If HYBE had been raided and rumours about Yoongi’s album were true, then that meant he must be there.
I grabbed my car keys and drove as fast as I could, keeping just within the speed limits. My mind buzzed with thoughts about Yoongi and everything Minji had said. Twenty minutes later, I pulled up in front of HYBE.
I stepped inside, my pulse quickening as I made my way through the familiar halls. When I reached the studio, I stopped in my tracks. Yoongi was pacing back and forth, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. He hadn’t noticed me yet, too absorbed in his conversation.
“Please make sure they’re caught and thoroughly questioned about what they saw,” he said, his tone firm but composed. Whoever he was speaking to replied, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know we had contracts here. Honestly, I don’t care about the album, it’s going to get released soon anyway. What matters is that Producer K’s information stays protected. Make sure no sensitive details leak, okay?” He paused to listen again. “Alright. Call me as soon as you have any updates.”
As he ended the call, his gaze finally landed on me. I was frozen in place, trying to process the past 24 hours, the intimacy, the sudden emptiness when I woke up, and now this chaos.
“Hey,” I said, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?”
Yoongi’s expression softened when he saw me, but the stress in his posture remained. He sighed and motioned for me to sit down, but I stayed standing, waiting for answers.
“Someone broke into HYBE last night,” he began, his voice steady but laced with frustration. “They managed to get into a secure area. Luckily, nothing was taken, at least nothing physical, but there’s still a risk of leaks.”
I blinked, processing his words. “So… this morning—”
He cut me off with a sheepish smile. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve woken you up, but you looked so peaceful, and I didn’t want to disturb you. When I got the call, I panicked. I didn’t even think, I just grabbed my stuff and rushed over here. I had to make sure everything was locked down. The NDAs, your information, everything. But I think we’re okay. Nothing seems to have been compromised.”
My chest loosened at his explanation, relief washing over me. “So… you didn’t leave because you regretted it?” My voice came out quieter than I intended. “It felt like… maybe you didn’t care about anything that happened yesterday.”
Yoongi’s eyes widened, and he stepped closer to me, closing the distance between us in just a few strides. “Ahh, baby,” he said, his tone filled with disbelief. “Are you kidding me? How could I ever regret it?”
He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, soft and lingering. The kiss was brief, but the warmth of it stayed with me. As he pulled back, he smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. Without another word, he scooped me up effortlessly, his hands firm on my thighs as he lifted me.
“Yoongi!” I squealed, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck.
“You’re stuck with me now,” he teased, his smirk deepening as he carried me toward the door. My back pressed against it as he gently pushed me, one of his hands leaving my body just long enough to twist the lock. The soft click echoed in the quiet room. His eyes flickered with something darker, more intense, as he leaned in closer.
“And don’t even think about doubting me again,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
Before I could respond, Yoongi moved us again, carrying me to the producer’s table, the one we’d spent countless hours working on together. He placed me on top of it, the cold surface pressing against my thighs. My body shifted slightly, the edge of the keyboard beneath me accidentally activating a few buttons with soft clicks and beeps.
A mischievous smirk spread across his face as he leaned over me, caging me in with his arms on either side. “Looks like we’re making more music, Producer K,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.
Immediately his lips captured mine, soft and demanding all at once. The kiss deepened almost instantly, his hand threading into my hair to tilt my head for better access. I gasped against his mouth as his other hand slid down, gripping my waist firmly to keep me anchored to him.
The kiss was electric, slow, and yet so full of intensity it left me breathless. His tongue brushed against mine, coaxing me into a rhythm that made my heart race. My hands found their way to his shoulders, then slid up behind his neck, pulling him even closer.
Yoongi let out a low hum of approval, the sound vibrating against my lips. The tension in the room grew thicker with every passing second. His teeth grazed my bottom lip, tugging gently before he soothed it with another kiss.
“You taste soo good,” he whispered against my mouth, his breath warm and tantalizing. He kissed me again, harder this time, as though he was trying to erase any lingering doubts from my mind.
“Are you going to fuck me or not?” I asked, my voice laced with impatience and desire. Enough with the teasing, I wanted him, here and now.
A smirk played on his lips as he looked at me. “Yes, right here on this table,” he murmured, his voice deep and full of promise. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”
Slowly he reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. His dark eyes lingered on me as he kept his promise from the night before. He leaned down, gently biting one of my bra straps and pulling it down with his teeth, the act equal parts sensual and possessive. Then his hand slid the other strap off my shoulder, his fingers brushing over my skin in a way that sent shivers racing down my spine.
His hands unclasped my bra, letting it fall away completely. The cool air of the room ghosted over my now-bare skin, goosebumps forming in its wake. His gaze was hungry, appreciative, as he took me in.
He didn’t waste a moment, cupping both of my breasts in his warm hands. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, teasing them until they hardened under his touch. Leaning in, he wrapped his lips around one, his tongue swirling and flicking while his other hand kneaded the other.
A soft moan escaped my lips as my hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. My legs around his waist instinctively pull his body closer and flush against mine. The hardness of his arousal pressed against my clothed core, teasing me further.
Yoongi groaned softly against my skin, his breath hot as he alternated between kissing and sucking on my sensitive flesh. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, his lips glistening as he grinned down at me.
“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. He stood upright and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion.
The sight of his toned chest and the way his muscles moved as he tossed the shirt aside made my breath hitch. My hands instinctively trailed over his bare skin, feeling the heat of him beneath my palms.
He proceeded to slide my pants down along with my panties in one smooth motion, leaving me bare beneath him. My cheeks flushed as I turned my head to the side, shying away from his gaze. The reality of the moment hit me, this was happening, in the studio no less. Something I had never done before, especially not with a co-worker. I had always been professional, keeping clear boundaries. But Yoongi? He was different. He was so much more.
Before my thoughts could spiral further, two of his fingers gently grasped my chin, tilting my face back toward him. His dark eyes softened as they met mine, a faint smile curling his lips. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine adoration.
He leaned down and kissed me deeply, his lips moving against mine with a passion that made me forget all my worries. When he pulled away, I was left breathless, my body trembling.
Without breaking eye contact, he stepped back and slid his boxers down, his cock springing free in a way that had my stomach tightening with need. He reached into a nearby drawer, pulling out a condom. The sight of him, so confident and focused, made my mouth water.
I whimpered softly, my body arching toward him. “Please…” I whispered, my voice trembling with desperation.
Yoongi smirked at my plea as he rolled the condom over his length slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. He moved closer, his cock teasing my entrance as he pressed the tip against me, applying just enough pressure to drive me wild.
Then he pulled back, a devilish grin on his lips.
“Yoongi!” I cried out, my hands gripping his shoulders in frustration.
Yoongi chuckled softly at my frustration, his deep voice resonating in the quiet studio. “Patience, baby,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I want to savour this.”
His words sent a shiver down my spine, but my body was anything but patient. My legs tightened around his hips, trying to draw him closer. He gave in just a little, letting his tip press further against my entrance, his cock teasing me.
“Please…” I whimpered again, my voice trembling.
“God, you’re so needy,” he murmured, but there was no mockery in his tone, only a mixture of desire and affection. He pressed forward slightly, just enough to stretch me, and the sensation made my breath hitch.
He paused, his hand brushing over my cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his gaze searching mine.
“Yes,” I breathed, nodding. “I need you, Yoongi… all of you.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly, he pushed into me, his cock filling me inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming in the best way, an exquisite mix of pleasure and pressure that made me gasp. My nails dug into his shoulders as he slid himself fully inside me, both of us pausing to catch our breaths.
“You feel so good,” he groaned, his head dropping to my shoulder. His lips brushed against my skin, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses as he began to move.
The first few thrusts were slow and deliberate, his hips rolling against mine in a rhythm that made me lose all sense of time and place. My moans filled the room, blending with the soft sounds of his breathless grunts and the quiet creak of the table beneath us.
“Yoongi…” I gasped, my hands sliding down to his waist to pull him closer. His movements grew more intense, each thrust hitting deeper, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.
His hand slid down to my thigh, lifting it higher to change the angle, and the new position made me cry out. “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.”
I clung to him, my body arching into his as the tension built to an unbearable peak. Every movement, every touch, was driving me closer to the edge. His name fell from my lips in a breathless chant, and I could feel his body tensing too, his control slipping with each passing second.
“I’m close,” I managed to gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pressed my forehead against his.
“Not so fast…” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. In one swift motion, he pulled out completely, leaving me trembling and desperate for more. He grabbed my hips, pulling me down and guiding me to turn around. His hand on my back guided me to lean forward, making my chest press against the cool surface of the studio desk. I tried to make myself stable, hands roaming over the desk for support when I accidentally hit a button on the keyboard that sounded like the recording audio one.
“Yoongi, I think I—”
“Leave it on,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust. His hands ran down my sides, gripping my hips firmly as he aligned himself behind me. Without another word, he thrust into me again, harder this time, making me cry out in surprise and pleasure.
The new angle was overwhelming, his movements fast and relentless, each thrust sending shockwaves through my body. My hands scrambled for something better to hold on to, finding the edge of the desk as I felt my climax building faster than ever before.
“Yoongi,” I moaned, my voice trembling. “I’m going to—”
“Me too,” he groaned, his pace quickening. His fingers tightened on my hips, pulling me back to meet every thrust.
The tension inside me snapped like a rubber band, and I shattered around him, a cry escaping my lips as waves of pleasure consumed me. His name fell from my lips in broken gasps, my body trembling with the force of my release.
“Fuck,” Yoongi hissed behind me, his movements growing erratic as he followed me over the edge. With a low groan, he stilled, his hands gripping me tightly as he emptied himself into the condom.
We stayed silent for a moment, both of us catching our breaths as the studio filled with the sound of our laboured breathing. Yoongi’s hand slid up my back, his touch gentle now as he leaned down to press a soft kiss between my shoulders.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice softer than before, filled with a mix of affection and satisfaction.
I turned my head slightly to glance at him, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the lingering haze of pleasure. “You’re pretty perfect yourself,” I replied breathlessly.
His lips quirked into a smirk as he helped me straighten up, his hands still lingering on my waist. “You keep driving me crazy when there’s work to be done,” he said, his voice still low, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
“Work?” I teased, arching an eyebrow.
We both laughed softly, the tension replaced by a comfortable warmth as we started dressing up together. After fixing ourselves up, Yoongi and I sat back at the desk, quietly adjusting to the shift from intimacy to professionalism.
A sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. My eyes widened as I glanced at the screen. The red "REC" light was still blinking, the audio still rolling.
"Wait," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but my heart was racing. "Yoongi... the recording…"
Yoongi's gaze followed mine to the screen.
I stifled a laugh, trying to process the situation. "We... we didn’t just—"
"We did," he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he reached for the mouse, clicking the stop button on the recording. The sudden silence felt almost louder than the chaos that had just unfolded.
There was a long pause before either of us spoke, and then Yoongi burst into a fit of laughter, the tension completely evaporating. "I can't believe you hit the record by accident," he said between chuckles, shaking his head. "That’s... that's going to be something to remember."
I shook my head, laughing despite the embarrassment that was slowly creeping in. "Oh my god, I didn’t mean to! What if—what if someone listens to that? You have to delete it…"
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, still chuckling. "Relax, I’m pretty sure the only one who’s ever going to hear that is you... and maybe me, when I’m in need of some... inspiration."
I shot him a mock glare. "You’re terrible."
But the laughter between us continued, as if we’d both just acknowledged the absurdity of it all. "Alright, alright," I said, regaining some composure. "So, do we actually erase it... or keep it as a very private memory?"
Yoongi eyed the screen for a moment, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think we keep it," he said with a smirk. "Just in case we ever need to prove who’s really in charge around here."
I raised an eyebrow, a challenge in my smile. "I still have to work with you..."
Yoongi leaned closer, his smirk widening. "We can always record something else to balance it out."
My face flushed again, but this time, it was the shared humour that made the tension feel lighter. The teasing, the jokes, the way we were able to slip back into this comfortable space of banter, it made the moment feel normal again.
***
As time passed, Yoongi and I quietly navigated our secret relationship, keeping things low-key while indulging in countless late-night dates after work. Between stolen moments in the studio, quick getaways to his place, and intimate sessions that blurred the line between work and personal time, we found our rhythm. Every touch, every kiss, every fleeting glance became a quiet promise, a bond that only grew stronger despite the secrecy. The sexual tension between us was undeniable, and we gave into it time and time again, the boundaries between us disappearing with every heated exchange.
April 17 arrived, and Yoongi and I were standing in J-Hope’s living room. It was a quiet evening before the storm of emotions that would come the next day, J-Hope was leaving for the military, and Yoongi was going to see him off tomorrow. As much as I wanted to be there for the farewell, I knew I couldn’t. Not yet. My identity had to still stay hidden, my relationship with Yoongi too, at least for now.
Yoongi caught my eye from across the room, a soft smile playing at his lips as he walked over to where I was standing by the window. "You okay?" he asked quietly, concern flickering in his gaze.
I forced a smile, trying to hide the tension I felt. "Yeah, just thinking about tomorrow," I said, glancing over at J-Hope, who was still chatting with some of the others in the room. "You’re going to see him off right?"
"Of course," Yoongi replied, his voice warm but heavy with the realization that things were changing. "He’s my brother. I’m not going to let him go without saying goodbye properly."
I nodded, feeling a pang of longing. "I wish I could be there, but... you know why I can’t."
"I know," Yoongi murmured, squeezing my hand. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "It’s just... it’s tough for both of us, huh?"
I nodded again, my chest tight. "Yeah. It’s not just about J-Hope going. It’s about the secrecy, the not being able to show anyone who we are... it gets exhausting."
Before Yoongi could respond, J-Hope called out from across the room, his voice teasing. "Yoongi, Y/N! You two are awfully quiet over there. What’s going on?"
I looked up and forced a grin, trying to act casual. "Nothing, just—"
J-Hope walked over with a playful glint in his eyes, crossed his arms. "You know, I’ve always seen the tension between you two," he said with a teasing smirk. "That’s why I kept pushing Y/N to hang out with me when Yoongi was around. I had to give him a little nudge."
Yoongi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by J-Hope’s words. "Really? You were the one pushing her?"
I laughed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Well, it worked, didn’t it?"
J-Hope chuckled, but his smile softened as he looked between the two of us. "I get it now. You two are like an open secret. But listen," he continued, his tone more serious, "tomorrow, when I’m gone, make sure you both take care of yourselves. Yoongi, I know you’ll look after her. And Y/N, be good to him, alright?"
I nodded, the words heavy in my chest. "I will. You just... you just be safe, okay? Come back to us soon."
Yoongi echoed my sentiment, his voice steady and sincere. "Take care of yourself, man. We’ve got your back. Always."
J-Hope smiled at us both, his eyes a mixture of gratitude and affection. "I know. Thanks, guys. I’ll miss you both."
***
The next day, after Yoongi returned from seeing J-Hope off, we somehow managed to finish the last track just before the deadline. It felt like a weight lifted off our shoulders. The album, which had been months in the making, was finally ready, set to release on April 21st with nine tracks. It was a huge achievement, and that night, we celebrated in typical Yoongi fashion, with whiskey at his place, and, well, sex. The kind of passionate, no-holds-barred kind that made me forget about the stress of the last few months.
The following days leading up to the album release were a whirlwind. We couldn't spend much time together, since Yoongi had a full schedule of promotional activities. Meanwhile, I was at home, taking the rare opportunity to relax and mentally prepare for the next project Minji had set up for me. Life was moving quickly, and I knew the grind would start again soon.
That night, as I was settling into my evening routine, my phone buzzed with a notification. Yoongi's live stream was about to start. He had mentioned earlier that his company would have him livestream his full album for his fans to celebrate the release. I was excited, though admittedly a little nervous to hear how the tracks we worked on together sounded to the public.
I clicked on the stream and watched as Yoongi greeted his fans, his usual cool demeanor giving way to the warmth of being surrounded by people who admired his work. I listened closely as he played the first six songs, the ones he had worked on solo. Each track was a piece of his soul, his sound so distinct and raw. Then came the three songs we collaborated on, and I couldn’t help but smile. Hearing them in front of thousands of fans was surreal, but in a way, it felt like we were still connected. Every note, every lyric felt like a reflection of the quiet moments we shared, the time we spent creating together.
As the ninth track played, I expected the stream to wrap up, but then Yoongi’s voice came through again. It was softer this time, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should say the words that were coming.
“This last song is a very last-minute addition to the album,” he began, his tone low and a little more introspective. “Making this album have a total of 10 tracks. I felt like this album was missing something... and this track summarizes everything that’s been going on with me lately. It’s called SDL.”
I froze, heart pounding in my chest. I hadn’t known about this last-minute addition to the album. I thought everything had been finalized. But here he was, introducing a track that was somehow more personal than any of the others. My stomach tightened as the beat dropped, and the chorus rang out:
"Yeah, somebody does love
But I'm thinking 'bout you."
The lyrics hit me like a wave, each word carrying a weight that I couldn’t ignore. It felt so raw, so vulnerable. Before I could process it all, I grabbed my stuff and rushed out the door. I knew Yoongi would still be at HYBE, where the livestream was taking place. Without thinking twice, I jumped into my car, determined to get there. The song had caught me completely off guard, and I needed to see him. I needed to understand what this song really meant.
It wasn’t just a track—it was a message. A message that had left me reeling, and I wasn’t going to wait to figure it out.
I arrived at HYBE, my heart still racing from the drive. As I stepped out, I caught sight of Jihoon leaving the building, and without thinking, I called out to him.
"Is Yoongi still here?"
"Yeah, last time I saw him, it was just a few minutes ago at the studio," Jihoon replied casually.
I didn't even say goodbye as I ran inside toward the studio, my mind set on finding Yoongi. When I reached the door and pushed it open, I could tell it wasn’t the same as the first time we met, where his eyes had been skeptical and full of surprise. This time, when our eyes met, I saw something completely different, softness, warmth, and love.
I closed the door behind me and moved closer to him, my breath still catching up from the run.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Yoongi asked, his voice laced with concern. He came to me, his hands instinctively reaching up to fix my hair, his touch gentle as he noticed my flustered state.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "That last song, I saw your live... where did that come from? I thought the album had only 9 tracks."
Yoongi paused, his hands lingering in my hair as he gave me a soft smile. "As I said on the live, that song is what’s been going on in my head these past couple of months."
I raised an eyebrow, still trying to piece it together. "So, you mean to tell me... I’m your inspiration?"
He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yes. You know I’m not great with my feelings, and better than anyone, you understand how hard it is for me to express myself. With everything that’s been going on between us lately… I thought this would be the clearest way to show you how I feel, the way we know best: through music."
“Why didn’t you play it for me before? In private?” I asked, my voice soft but laced with curiosity.
“I wanted it to be a surprise, like a big romantic gesture that only we would recognize,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. “I felt like I needed to redeem myself for how I acted at the start. To be honest, we were so good together that I’m sure we could’ve finished those tracks in less than a month. But I kept being a jerk, nit-picking everything just so we’d have to restart. It was selfish, but I wanted to steal every last minute with you. You walked into this studio and captured my heart and soul with everything you are, and I wasn’t ready to let that go so easily.”
His words hit me with full force, my heart pounding in my chest as the weight of his confession settled. I stepped closer, my emotions bubbling to the surface, and before I could think or say anything more, my lips found Yoongi’s. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if I were trying to tell him everything I couldn’t put into words. It was a kiss full of everything: love, apology, understanding, and a promise for more. We didn’t need more words, just the closeness, the music, and the quiet understanding between us. The kiss deepened, and in that moment, we both knew: this was just the beginning.
Summary: Y/N and Namjoon enter into a mutual agreement to fake date, with Y/N aiming to catch Jimin's attention and Namjoon hoping to win back his ex. What starts as a carefully crafted plan to fool everyone around them slowly begins to unravel as real emotions creep in. With every stolen glance, shared laugh, and moment of vulnerability, they find themselves questioning the boundaries they've set. When pretending becomes indistinguishable from reality, Y/N and Namjoon must decide if this is still part of the plan or the start of something real.
!! Warnings !!: vaginal sex, protected sex, fingering, a bit slow burn, angst, fluff, female riding,
Love the story? ☕ Support me on Ko-fi! 💕
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“I’ll step out for a bit” I said as I stood up from the table where I had been hanging out with the whole BTS group. It was late at night, and after all the filming they had done for their newest Run BTS show, the staff had booked them a two-story house for the night. We had just finished dinner and were chatting at the table while playing some games. Earlier, I had been seated between Namjoon and Taehyung, with Jimin and J-Hope in front of us, and my sister and her boyfriend, Jungkook, to their right. Jin and Suga were tired and had gone to sleep straight after dinner. I decided to step out onto the balcony for a few minutes.
My sister was deeply in love with Jungkook, and he felt the same way about her. I wouldn’t say I was jealous, but my situation with my crush on one of the group members had never progressed any further. Every time we met on days like this, I felt a pang of disappointment. It’s not that I lack the courage to confess my feelings, I just sensed that he wasn’t interested. Jimin had always been polite and kind, and that was that. I tried to distract myself from my feelings as I stared at the view ahead. The night was a bit chilly, so I quickly lit up a cigarette. I had never been a fan of smoking, but life happens and sometimes it leads to bad habits. I put the cigarette between my lips and took out my lighter. After multiple attempts, I kept failing to get it lit.
“Damn, I can’t even light this” I muttered to myself. All this crush drama and the work I had to return to tomorrow made me feel burned out. Sometimes, I wished I could just book a flight and go on vacation to clear my mind.
Then, a small flame lit up in front of my face. I stepped back, surprised.
“I saw you out here and noticed you were struggling with that.” Namjoon said, pointing to the lighter I was clutching.
“Ha! So you could tell from that far that I’m new to this? I don’t even think it’s broken, I just haven’t used it properly. I’ve only done it a few times over the past few days.”
“Never thought I would see you smoke. You should drop it; it’s a bad habit.” Namjoon took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulled one out, lighting it and nodding in my direction, telling me to bring mine closer so he could light it.
“You do realize you’re smoking too, even though you said that, and lighting mine isn’t going to make me quit.” I replied as I approached, the cigarette back in between my lips while looking at him.
“I’ll forgive you tonight, you seem to have a lot on your mind judging on how you left earlier.” He said as he came closer, covering the cigarette with his free hand and lighting the cigarette for me, his gaze never breaking mine.
“Joon, I didn’t know you were so observant. But yeah, I do, life’s been rough lately.” I said as I blew my first puff in the air.
“Well, I just hope it isn’t the fault of a particular person,” he teased.
“Huh? Wait, what?” I panicked, feeling my cheeks flush.
“You like Jimin, don’t you?” At that moment, I think I stopped breathing. He said it so bluntly, like it was a fact. The thought of anyone inside the house overhearing made me incredibly embarrassed. I knew for a fact that no one had heard it, they all were quite loud in there. Besides my sister, no one knew about my feelings.
“What gave that away? Haha! I mean, I have a crush on all of you, in case you didn’t know.” I said nervously, hoping that maybe by saying that, I could hint to him that it was true, but he didn’t have to know the specifics.
“Yeah, right. You kept staring at him the whole time during dinner and while we played games.”
“Was it that obvious?” I facepalmed myself.
“Let’s say a little bit,” Namjoon said, puffing out some smoke.
There was a brief silence after that, the only sound being the smoke from our cigarettes. I decided to break the silence again.
“Well, now you know the truth, I guess, and as you might know, he doesn’t feel the same way, so these feelings will fade on their own.”
Namjoon turned his head to look at me. “How do you know he doesn’t like you back?”
“Well, he’s never initiated anything like that. I don’t think he’s ever come to talk to me first, it has always been me! Gosh, that sounds so pathetic, right?”
“No, I can see what you mean. Maybe he’s shy and just needs a little push.”
“Like what?” I had heard that so many times from my sister that I couldn’t bear Namjoon saying it again. So I snapped, sounding a bit more on edge than I intended.
“I don’t know, maybe by making him realize what he’s losing out on or something like that.”
“I understand what you mean, but I would like the person I like to know beforehand, not me having to squeeze it out of them.”
“Right, but nobody’s perfect, so you might have to give that small push.”
“Well, I don’t even know how to start…” I trailed off focusing on looking at the ground.
“Use me.”
“What?!?” My head snapped back and I nearly dropped the remainder of my cigarette on the floor. “Aren’t you in a relationship, or did I hear that wrong?”
“Nope, you heard it right. And to answer your other question, I broke up with her a few weeks ago. Actually, she sorta broke up with me. I was thinking about making her jealous to show her what she lost, kinda like your situation. We should help each other out, get what we want, and then go back to normal.”
“Wait, so she broke up with you? What the hell, for real? Her loss though… So does that mean you want to fake-date for a while to see how things turn out? I mean, I’m not against it, but there are a million things that could go wrong. I have to tell my sister about it, and probably Jungkook with his big mouth will spill the beans, and what about the media? How’s that going to work?”
“Well, first, don’t tell your sister the whole truth for now, just spin this whole situation with a white lie. As for the media, we won’t go out in public together—just to closed events that my ex might attend, along with other staff members at nights like this when it’s only us as a group.”
“Right… and how long are we faking this? We can’t just go out there and drop the bomb on the members and be like, ‘Hey guys, we’re dating.’ That will confuse everyone!”
“Don’t worry about that. They might think I’m the jerk who is using you after my ex, but we want Jimin’s attention, don’t we? So he can notice you properly, although now that I’ve said it, you being my fake girlfriend and him having feelings for you kinda hurts my ego.”
“Look who’s jealous now! Haha. But omg, this is crazy, Namjoon. How long have you been planning this?” I questioned him, raising an eyebrow.
“I just thought about it after seeing you here on the balcony.” he said, raising his shoulders, as if it was no big deal.
“Wow, I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“You just don’t. We can discuss everything in detail later. Are you in or not?”
My mind was racing. I had always been very calculative, I’d never been spontaneous, like those people who book a flight within a day and leave for a trip, returning a month later, especially not like this. But something about Namjoon’s plan made me feel safe. Yes, it would cause a little drama in the group, but I doubted it would lead to anything major, right?
“Fuck it. Yes, I’m in… but we are definitely setting some rules later on.”
“Then shall we?” Namjoon extended his hand toward mine, motioning towards the room. I let him take it, and we both smiled at each other as we walked back hand in hand where the others were.
***
The room had changed since I quickly left for the balcony. Now, everyone was engaged in different activities. My sister and Jungkook were deep in conversation, laughing about something, while J-hope was dancing to some background music. Taehyung and Jimin were laughing loudly, watching him. Namjoon and I walked toward the table, still holding hands. J-hope noticed us first, abruptly stopping his dance and screamed loudly, shaking the whole house. You could hear Yoongi and Jin coming out of their rooms, frustrated about the commotion.
J-hope’s eyes widened, and everyone followed his gaze to our linked hands. My eyes instinctively searched Jimin's face. I couldn’t pinpoint his reaction; he clearly wasn’t laughing anymore, but his expression was unfazed, and I had no idea what he might be thinking.
“Y/N! Why are you holding hands with Namjoon?” my sister exclaimed, rising from her chair in shock. I had anticipated her reaction, but at that moment, my throat went dry. I didn’t know what excuse to give. It looked like Namjoon sensed my hesitation. He squeezed my hand once and stepped toward my sister, not letting go of my grip.
“Well, you caught us! We just started dating this week and didn’t want to keep it from you guys any longer, so we decided to announce it today. Y/N was telling me that you might kill her later if we dragged this out without telling everyone,” Namjoon said, while everyone stood in silence. From time to time, I averted my gaze from him to Jimin, who didn’t bother to look at me directly but was actively listening to his hyung.
“Well, congrats, guys! Is this why J-hope screamed?” Suga said, yawning. “I’m going back to sleep.”
“Yeah, me too. But congrats!” Jin added as he headed back to his room.
“Whoa, that explains why you guys were seated next to each other today!” Taehyung said, covering his mouth as if he’d said something he shouldn’t have.
“I noticed you following her after she excused herself, but I didn’t think you were dating, hyung,” J-hope chimed in.
“Y/N, as long as you’re happy I am too but you have to tell me all the details later,” my sister said.
“Yeah, congrats, guys! Now your sister and I won’t be the only couple here!”Jungkook exclaimed.
“Thanks, everyone,” I said, smiling at how supportive they were, even though this was all just a facade. I really hoped they wouldn’t be upset later when we had to tell them that we were ‘’breaking up’’.
“Didn’t you just break up with your ex, Namjoon?” Jimin finally spoke up. I hadn’t expected him to go after Namjoon like that.
“Yes, she dumped me weeks ago, but I always had my eyes on Y/N. She’s different, as you might have noticed,” Namjoon replied, turning to me with a smile.
“Congrats, then,” Jimin said, rising from his chair. “I’m going to sleep, I’m actually tired.” He glanced at Taehyung, probably signaling him to follow since they were sharing a room.
“Thanks, bro. We should probably all go to sleep anyway, it’s late.” Namjoon pulled me closer and kissed my cheek before leaving quickly, leaving everyone stunned.
The room fell silent, and I could feel my cheeks heating up. I probably looked like a teenage girl who just interacted with her crush. His gesture was making this feel less fake than it was. Damn him.
Everyone was looking at me, including Jimin, who slowly looked me up and down before leaving after Namjoon.
“Well, Y/N, I’m happy for you and Namjoon. You seem to like each other a lot! We can tease you two later. I’m off to sleep, too. Bye!” J-hope said, dragging Taehyung with him as they left.
It was just me, Jungkook, and my sister now.
“I’ll leave you girls to it. Goodnight, Y/N. Goodnight, love,” Jungkook quickly pecked my sister on the lips and left the living room.
“Look, let’s discuss this tomorrow; I want to sleep too!” I quickly fake yawned looking at my sister.
“No way, sissy! We’re staying up all night until you give me all the details!” she said and pulled my arm towards our room.
Great, this is going to be a long night.
***
The next morning, I woke up after only two hours of sleep. The late-night conversation I had with my sister about Namjoon made everything feel surreal. Sure, I’d lied a bit, letting her believe that this was real, but she’d understand later, I didn’t want her accidentally telling Jungkook and blowing our cover.
I grabbed my phone, got up, and started dressing to go for a walk to clear my head. I decided to just wear something casual , a white tank top and jeans. Mid-change, my sister woke up.
“Y/N, what’s with all the noise? I want to sleep,” she groaned.
“You’d have slept better if you hadn’t insisted on talking last night,” I replied, rolling my eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Are you going to Namjoon’s already?” she teased getting up to look at me.
I finished putting on my top and headed toward the door. “I’m getting coffee first. See you later.”
As I opened the door and took a step forward, I smacked right into a firm chest. After a second, my blurry vision cleared, and I looked up to see Namjoon, his fist raised as if about to knock.
“Ouch,” I muttered, rubbing my head.
“You alright?” he asked, concerned in his voice.
“Oh my god, Joon! She was just coming to you!” my sister shouted from her bed.
“Is that true?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.
I quickly closed the door so my sister couldn’t hear or see us anymore. “No,” I said, trying to keep a straight face.
“Sure,” he replied, his dimples showing in a playful grin.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Can’t confirm or deny.”
“So, what are you doing here?” I asked, curious.
“Well, you mentioned we had some unfinished ‘rules’ to go over. I figured since everyone’s still asleep, I’d come get you and finalize everything.”
“What if I hadn’t answered the door? I barely slept last night.”
“I’d have walked in,” he said with a shrug.
“You wouldn’t dare…”
“Scared, Y/N?”
“Me? Never. But seriously, what if I was changing? And I share a room with my sister.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” he teased, earning a smack on the arm from me.
“Ouch! Relax, I’m joking. We need to make this look convincing, you know, we can’t act like just friends.”
“Fine. Just save it for when others are around, then.”
“Alright, let’s head to the park nearby. I doubt anyone would be there to recognize us this early.”
“Sure.”
***
We found ourselves sitting on a bench at the park. It was early, and no one else was around.
“So, I think we should come up with some rules, like they do in the movies,” I suggested.
“Don’t people end up falling for eachother in the movies when they say this?” he questioned me.
“Hello! You know what I mean, stop joking around.” I said, slapping his arm.
“Okay okay…I’m up for whatever you’re comfortable with, Y/N. You say your rules, and I’ll say mine.”
“Fine. So, this is kind of cliché, but no kissing unless absolutely necessary, like if people are starting to suspect something. I don’t want this to be too… cheesy.”
“I understand that,” he said, nodding. “But if you want to kiss me, Y/N, just say so.”
I rolled my eyes. “I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.”
“Okay, I’m fine with other PDA stuff. But you have to let me know if you’re seeing anyone for real or if that ex returns. I don’t want to interfere with anything important. Same goes for me if, say, Jimin confesses or something. And this lasts for a maximum of two months. We’re not dragging this out. Deal?”
“Yeah, yeah, deal. It’s all in here, don't worry .” He tapped his head with his index finger following along with a grin.
“Anything else you want to add?” I replied.
“Yeah, just one thing: promise not to fall in love with me.”
I gave him a deadpan look, but he burst into laughter. “You should’ve seen your face! I’ve always wanted to say that line.”
“Unbelievable. Are you serious? I thought you were better than this!” I laughed, shaking my head.
“Hey, I’ve always been this way,” he replied with a wink.
“Sure, sure…”
***
We decided to head back to the house after our chat. As we approached, Namjoon standing beside me suddenly took my hand and pulled me towards him. Now we were standing face to face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, leaning close. “Shh, he’s watching. Right there, on the balcony.”His head made a gesture leaning slightly forward towards the balcony’s direction but I didn't dare to turn my head and look.
And just like that, we walked toward the entrance, hand in hand.
“Here come the newlyweds!” Taehyung shouted as soon as we stepped in.
“Y/N, does this make you the group’s ‘mom’? Since Namjoon’s the dad and leader?” J-hope joked laughing.
Namjoon released my hand and muttered to me, “Gotta grab something from my room.” He slipped away, and I turned to J-hope, who was eagerly awaiting an answer.
“Yes, I guess I’m the mom now!” I declared, making a playful grab for him. He bolted, and I chased him into the living room while everyone laughed and shouted at us to stop.
We finally stopped running when Jimin came down the stairs, and I bumped into him, making us both fall to the floor.
“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, didn’t see you there!” I said flustered.
Jimin stood up quickly and stretched a hand out to help me, but before I could grab it, Namjoon stepped in and helped me up instead.
“I leave for one second and you already have other guys all over you Y/N,” Namjoon teased looking at Jimin and me.
“Not my fault! Blame J-hope,” I said, playfully glaring at him.
“Me?? I didn’t do anything!” J-hope protested from across the room.
“You’ve done it now, J-hope! You made Namjoon unhappy. Run for your life!” Jungkook shouted, grinning.
Namjoon took off after J-hope, and I was left standing next to Jimin.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, his eyebrows slightly shooting upwards.
“Yeah, don’t worry.”
***
The rest of the day passed with a few more playful teases from the guys. The shoot was over yesterday, and we were all getting ready to leave. As everyone packed their things, we gathered in the living room to say our goodbyes. J-hope and Taehyung were still struggling to pack up so everyone decided to just stay downstairs till they finished. As for me I hadn’t gotten much sleep, and I felt myself starting to doze off on the couch.
Just before I drifted off, my phone buzzed with a message from Namjoon. I looked up to see him watching me with a small smile.
Namjoon: It was a close call earlier
Y/N: Close call for what? I replied, confused.
Namjoon: Jimin helping you and being all touchy
Y/N: Yeah, why did you interfere then?
Namjoon: You need to play hard to get.
I rolled my eyes at him, and he sent me a screenshot of our text conversation. Confused, I opened it to see if anything looked different but couldn’t figure it out.
Namjoon: I can see that confused look, I already changed your contact name to ‘Y/N <3’. Change mine, too.
“Fine,” I muttered.
After thinking about it, I matched him and set his name to ‘Namjoon <3’. I took a screenshot and sent it back to him.
His only reply was a single red heart.
***
After we left that day, Namjoon and I didn’t have much reason to meet up. We texted here and there, so my phone lit up with his name from time to time for my sister to see and his phone with my name for the boys. Although lately with the guys’ busy schedules, we didn’t actually hang out. Two weeks passed like this.
One day, my sister casually brought it up. “You know, even when he’s busy, Jungkook comes to see me. I haven’t seen you and Namjoon together at all. Are you guys even dating?”
I panicked. Was it that obvious? “Of course we are! He’s just been busy, but we talk every day. I was just about to visit him at the company,” I replied quickly, hoping she’d buy it. I didn’t even know Namjoon’s schedule for the day, so I could only hope he’d be there.
“Really? Jungkook mentioned they’re rehearsing a new choreography and might be there late tonight.”
Maybe I should go there just for today to clear any suspicions out .“Yep, I knew that! Well, see ya!” I said, grabbing my things and rushing out the house.
After a quick stop at the nearest convenience store to grab snacks for everyone, I tried calling Namjoon three times, but he didn’t pick up. Finally, I decided to just head to the company and hope for the best.
When I arrived at the building, I used the staff access card my sister had gotten from Jungkook. Despite Namjoon and I being a “couple,” no one else at the company knew, aside from the guys, so it would’ve been suspicious for me to have my own card.
I knew they’d be in one of the practice rooms, but there were a lot on the second floor, and other groups seemed to be practicing there at the same time. I tried my best not to look suspicious as I moved closer to each door, listening for any familiar music, hoping to recognize one of BTS’s new singles.
After several tries, I finally heard that familiar tune I was looking out for. I waited outside until the music stopped, indicating they were either taking a break or resetting. Once it was quiet, I slipped inside.
They were all there, gathered in front of a camera, analyzing their dance moves. Jimin noticed me first and gave a small smile.
The others must have caught on because Namjoon and the guys turned their heads toward me.
“Y/N!” J-hope shouted, “What are you doing here? Missed Joon already?”
I didn’t even bother responding. Namjoon quickly walked over and asked, “What are you doing here?” He positioned himself in front of me to shield me from the others’ view.
“Well, I tried calling three times to let you know I was coming, but you didn’t pick up. What else was I supposed to do?” I lowered my voice. “People are getting suspicious, you know. My sister even asked why we never hung out since announcing we were together.”
“I’ve been busy, as you can see…”
“I noticed, which is why I came here to act like the girlfriend who missed you and all that corny stuff.”
“Right… Okay, go on with the show.”
I looked over his shoulder to see if the other members were still watching, and they were, especially Jimin, who gave me a look that made me wonder if he was jealous or just amused. I set the snacks on the floor, wrapped my arm around Namjoon’s waist, and hugged him tightly.
“Bear with it for me a bit, Joon,” I whispered.
He didn’t reply, he just hugged and squeezed me back. After a couple of seconds, I let go, picked up the snacks, and walked over to the guys.
“Yes, J-hope, you’re right. But who said I don’t miss you all too? I also brought some snacks, I wasn't sure what everyone liked, so I just got a bit of everything.”
“WOAH! Y/N, you’re the best!” Taehyung shouted, rushing over to peek into the bags.
Jimin stepped up and took the bags from me, gently brushing my hand as he thanked me before taking them to a nearby table. The others gathered around while Namjoon stayed beside me. I felt his presence and turned to him. “We need to talk.”
“Can we do it after the shoot? We’ve got one more left.”
“Oh…” Feeling shy, I blurted out, “Can I stay and watch? Not in a creepy way, just until you’re done so we can talk privately.”
“Yes, I’d like that… I mean, yeah, sure. The others might think it’s cute, you waiting around like a proper girlfriend.”
“Hey, I am a good girlfriend, thank you very much! … Wait, do you think it’s cute when girls stay and watch you practice?”
“Not all girls, just my girlfriend,” he said with a wink.
“Oh please, you act like you’ve had so many.” I rolled my eyes.
“I won’t tell you how many, but… what I’m trying to say is, I want you to stay.”
“Okay…”I didn't know how to respond to that. But I had already decided that I wanted to stay.
“Joon, let’s finish this up so we can dig into the snacks!” Jin called from the table.
“Coming!” Namjoon replied, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before heading back. It always catches me off guard when he does that. Flustered, I found a chair near the corner where the camera couldn’t catch me.
Soon, the music started, and all seven of them moved in perfect sync. My eyes traveled first to Jimin, his moves were fluid and perfectly on beat. Then I glanced at Namjoon, whose dancing had a different but equally captivating vibe. I couldn’t help but fangirl a little, watching them perform up close reminded me of just how professional they were. I didn’t even realize I’d been staring at Namjoon the entire time.
When the music stopped, everyone cheered, “Good job, everyone!”
I swear I heard Suga mutter, “Finally, I can go to sleep now.”
I laughed to myself, watching their reactions, and before I knew it, Jimin was standing in front of me.
“Hey, I think you bought too many snacks. Want to come over to the table and share with us?”
“Sure,” I replied, realizing I was actually hungry. “I left in a hurry to get here and might’ve skipped lunch.”
As I sat down at the table with everyone, Jimin took the seat right next to me. But Namjoon was nowhere to be seen—he’d disappeared entirely. Curious, I quickly slipped my phone under the table and messaged him to ask where he was. I must’ve looked worried, because Jin caught on and leaned over with a gentle smile.
“Hey, Y/N, is everything alright? Want some ramen? I’m prepping some now.”
“Oh, yes, thank you, Jin! Everything’s fine, don’t worry!” I replied, brushing off my concern. Namjoon was probably in the restroom or something. I started to dig in as Jin placed a warm bowl of ramen in front of me.
“So, Y/N, how far have you and Namjoon gone?” Taehyung teased, grinning mischievously.
I nearly choked on my noodles, coughing as Jimin shot Taehyung a sharp look and patted my back gently.
“Tae, that’s really none of your business,” Jimin retorted, his voice carrying a protective edge.
Taehyung just shrugged and grinned wider. “Come on, Jimin, we’re all friends here, right, Y/N? Where did Joon-hyung go either way? If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t leave you for one second alone!”
“Good thing you’re not her boyfriend then—you’d drive her insane,” Jimin muttered, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, like you’re any better, Mr. Single,” Taehyung shot back.
“Not for long,” Jimin whispered, almost too low to hear. I turned to him with a curious look, only to see Taehyung caught off-guard, equally stunned.
“I’ll be right back,” I said, standing up. “Gonna drag Namjoon back here so he doesn’t miss all the food.’”
I headed to the hallway, scanning the area for him. When he wasn’t on the second floor, I went downstairs, guessing he might be in the smoking area by the parking lot. I tried calling him, but he didn’t pick up. After twenty minutes of looking, I finally found him, but he wasn’t alone. A woman stood close, and from the look of things, they were deep in conversation. I approached quietly, not wanting to intrude, but as I got closer, I couldn’t help but overhear.
“How have you been?” she asked softly. “You know I have missed you.”’ she said while rocking in place and tracing her fingers along his bicep.
“Fine,” Namjoon replied, his voice tight, while staring at her hand. “What else do you want me to say? You know why we ended things. What do you want now, why are you here?”
Without a second thought, I stepped up beside Namjoon, slipping my arm through his yanking him away from her touch. “There you are, babe!” I said, smiling sweetly. “The guys have been waiting for you to join us.”
Namjoon looked over, startled, just as the woman frowned. “Excuse me, but who are you?”
I gave her a calm but pointed smile. “Who am I? The real question is who are you?”
“She’s…my ex,” Namjoon muttered, seeming caught between confusion and discomfort.
“Ah,” I said, squeezing his arm a bit. “In case you missed it, I’m his current girlfriend. And I plan on being the last, right, babe?”
Namjoon’s eyes went wide for a moment before he quickly nodded. “Uh…yeah.”
His ex scoffed. “Right. Is this some joke to make me jealous, Namjoon? You know these things don’t work with me. I know us so let’s go somewhere to talk alone shall we?”
Great, I thought. Typical ex drama. But I kept my cool. “No need, we will be leaving together instead…” I said with a tight smile.
I tugged on Namjoon’s arm to lead him away. “Come on babe, everyone’s waiting,” I said and Namjoon quickly added, “see you around!”
“Or not,” I added, giving her one last look before we left. As we walked arm-in-arm back to the elevator, I leaned closer to Namjoon, whispering, “What’s going on with you? You tell me to act like your girlfriend, and then you turn into a deer in headlights in front of her. She probably figured it out that we’re faking this.”
Namjoon seemed distracted, barely listening. “I know, sorry…it was just…unexpected.”
“Okay, so…are you on track to getting back with her?” I asked carefully, watching Namjoon’s face. “I mean, you should if that’s what you want. That’s why we started this whole fake-dating thing, anyway.” I sighed, suddenly feeling the messiness of the situation. “Besides, I don’t even know if Jimin is interested in me or not. He said something really confusing earlier…”
Namjoon and I stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed with a soft chime. He looked at me, pausing thoughtfully before he replied. “It’s complicated, Y/N, but I’m not going to break our two-month agreement now that the guys know. I gave you my word, remember?”
I nodded, somewhat reassured. “I thought so. Not to be rude, but…your ex seems like a…” I paused, choosing my words. “Not so very nice, let’s just say that.”
Before Namjoon could respond, the elevator shuddered and came to an abrupt halt between floors, the lights flickering for a split second before dimming to an emergency glow.
“Oh, come on, seriously?” I groaned, glancing up. “This is a high-end building, how does the elevator just get stuck?”
Namjoon placed a calming hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry; just press the emergency button. They’ll fix it within a few minutes. No need to panic.”
“Right, yeah.” I rang the emergency bell and leaned back against the wall. “But still, I bet my ramen’s cold or eaten by now…” I muttered. I glanced at him, and he still seemed distant, like his thoughts were a million miles away. “Namjoon, are you even listening to me? You’ve been in a daze since we ran into her, is there something I should know?” I said, folding my arms.
“Y/N, can you stop?” he snapped suddenly, his voice sharper than I’d ever heard it.
I jumped slightly, startled by his tone. I was just trying to help. He looked regretful almost instantly but moved toward me, trapping me against the wall of the small elevator, his expression serious.
“I told you, it’s complicated. And it’s not just about her anymore, so can we drop it for now, please?”
“Why are you getting so worked up over all this?” I protested, meeting his gaze. “I was only trying to help. You know, you asked me to be your ‘girlfriend’, but you barely act like my boyfriend. Then when I do step in, you get all flustered.”
He sighed, rubbing a hand across his forehead and leaning closer, so close that I could feel his breath. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s just…she cheated on me. She didn’t break up with me, I ended it because I found out. I really cared about her, but after that, I just felt…worthless. Like I don’t deserve to be loved.”
His confession hung heavy in the air. I felt a wave of empathy for him, my face softening at his confession. “Namjoon…you are one of the kindest people I know. You’re a great guy, and if anyone I know deserves love, it’s you. Don’t doubt that for a second.”
He looked at me, his gaze softening and our eyes meeting. For a brief moment, he seemed to forget everything. His ex, the fake relationship, everything but the two of us in this tiny, dim elevator. He glanced down, and I felt the brush of his nose near mine, our faces inches apart.
“You say that, but you still like Jimin,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, almost vulnerable. “And that…feels unfair, doesn’t it?”
My heart skipped a beat. “I…” I started, but the words wouldn’t come. A warm flush rose to my cheeks as I met his gaze, and in that instant, his eyes flicked to my lips, lingering there for just a second before he looked away, resting his head on my shoulder. It felt as though all the tension and worry had finally let go, but as if on cue, the elevator doors slid open with a soft ping, revealing two maintenance staff…and Jimin and J-hope.
J-hope burst into laughter at the sight. “Well, well, Namjoon. Didn’t know you were so…romantic,” he teased, his eyes gleaming with amusement.
“Are you two alright?” one of the staff members asked, extending a hand to help us out of the elevator. Namjoon stepped out first, then turned, offering me his hand, which I took, feeling more flustered than I’d expected.
Jimin stayed silent, watching us with an unreadable expression, Namjoon’s hand not letting mine go the whole time.
"I've always been like this. You just didn't need to know," he replied to J-hope.
"Oh, I mean as long as Y/N knows," J-hope chimed in with a smirk.
Namjoon and I didn’t respond, but he quickly leaned over and whispered that he had something to handle with the staff. He asked me to wait with the others until he returned.
Jimin spoke up first. "How long were you guys in there? We just heard the bell from the hallway."
"Yeah, Jimin was getting worried since you were taking so long," J-hope added. "So we came to check for you when we heard the alarm."
I was surprised, my mouth slightly open. I hadn’t expected Jimin to be so concerned. It was unusual... and kind of nice?
"Oh, thank you for looking out for me," I replied, glancing at Namjoon, who was handing some cash to the maintenance guys. He quickly came back over, giving us a knowing look.
"I’ll explain along the way," he murmured as he leaned closer to my ear.
Taking my hand, he led us back toward the practice room, with Jimin and J-hope trailing behind. Once we were a bit farther from them, Namjoon spoke quietly. "I had to give the staff some money to keep them from spreading rumors about us. We only wanted the guys to know, and well... my ex. Speaking of which, what did you want to discuss again? Sorry for earlier, I rushed to get a hoodie from my car downstairs and ran into her. That’s why I was late. You know the rest."
"Oh, that explains it. Don’t worry about why I came here to talk —I just needed to convince my sister that we’re still together since we haven’t been going on any dates lately. I called you earlier while I was looking for you but you didn’t pick up.” I paused, then asked, “Do you even have my number because you act like you don't." I said with a sigh.
"C’mon, babe, you know I’ve got it," he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and glancing back at Jimin. "I’ll make sure to call you every day from now on and promise to answer every text and call."
"Alright, you better! Also the other reason I came here was that…. I was thinking we should go out one of these days, just for an hour or so, and take a few couple photos. We don’t have any of those, and it’d be nice to have them on our phones. No need to do anything too extravagant, you know typical couples things."
"Sure, but we could also take one right now," he said, pulling out his phone. He lifted the phone, leaned his head close to mine, closed his eyes, and flashed his dimples before snapping the photo, his arm still wrapped around me, catching me completely off guard.
"There, you look cute," Namjoon said, smiling. "I just sent it to you."
"You know we can still see you guys, right? We’re just behind you!" J-hope called out, laughing.
"Now you know, J-hope. I’m shameless when it comes to love."
I felt my face heat up and turned away, bowing a little to the guys as a silent apology.
When we finally made it back to the practice room, the others were still eating. Besides my snack, they’d ordered fried chicken. They must have been starving.
***
After everyone finished up, I greeted the guys one last time, giving each of them a hug before deciding to make my way back home.This time, I opted for the stairs instead of the elevator, my heart racing as I recalled the moment I shared with Namjoon. I couldn’t help but blush, replaying that exchange in the lift. If no one had interrupted us, would it have led to a kiss? I facepalmed, trying to shake off the thought.
I shouldn’t be thinking like this. Namjoon probably still had feelings for his ex, despite the way she had treated him. And then there was Jimin, my feelings for him were still tangled up in my mind. I sighed as I made my way down the stairs, anxiety swirling within me.
I suddenly heard hurried footsteps coming down the stairs, and panic surged through me. What if a crazy sasaeng saw me today and felt jealous? I quickened my pace, and as I rushed down, my vision became blurry. I lost my balance and found myself almost flying through the air, heading straight for the ground. Just as I felt gravity take hold, two strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me backward with such force that I bumped into something or rather someone. I managed to escape the tangled position and looked up to find Namjoon groaning.We both ended up on the floor, with his back against the wall crushed with his legs spread apart and me sitting between them.
“Oh my god, Joon, what are you doing here? Didn’t you leave with the guys?”
“That’s the first thing you ask me? Not ‘Are you okay? Does anything hurt?’ or the fact that I just saved your life?” he hissed a bit in pain.
‘’Oh, that too! I am so sorry…. I quickly looked around gathering my words. “Let me explain!” Taking a deep breath I started explaining. ”I became paranoid and thought some crazy fan was following me. Why else would they take the stairs? No one knows that the elevator got stuck except us and the other guys. I mean, I thought I was about to be assaulted! I–uh … sorry, I should have turned my head and looked back. Don't mind me , I am… such a mess. How am I supposed to handle dating an idol like this? Maybe I shouldn’t even bother with dating at all, this girlfriend thing doesn’t seem to suit me.”
I kept mumbling, and Namjoon kept looking at me with the same gaze I had seen back in the elevator. I think a tear escaped my eye, and he reached out, swiping it away with his thumb. Then, his hand locked onto the back of my head, pulling my head into his firm chest.
“I’m sorry you went through that. Don’t worry, the company is safe most of the time,” Namjoon said quietly.
I let out a breath I had been holding and inhaled, catching a whiff of his scent. It was comforting.
“Y/N, I don’t think you understand how much any of the guys would love to date you now that they’ve seen how cute you act around me. I mean, you are my girlfriend, after all. The reason I came after you is simple: I wanted to drive you home. I’m pretty sure you walked all the way here carrying those snacks by yourself, not letting anyone help you. I thought I could take my car and drive you safely so we could discuss the date we’re going on along the way. But after I told the guys goodbye, you had disappeared, and I knew you wouldn’t dare take the elevator. I know you. After everything that happened, I rushed down the stairs after you. Maybe I should have called out your name to make it clearer that it was me. I’m sorry.”
I looked up at him, creating a bit of space between us. "You have nothing to apologize for. And yes, I’d actually love for you to drive me back; it sounds nice. Thanks for saving me… again haha."
I asked him once more if he was okay and if we needed to go to the hospital, worried that the bump might have had an impact. But he brushed it off, saying this was nothing compared to the rough training days he’d endured as a trainee. With some hesitation, I let it slide, for now.
We both laughed as we stood up and made our way to the parking lot where Namjoon had parked his car. Trying to lighten the mood after the incident, I joked, "It would be funny if your ex was waiting by your car, you know."
He glanced back at me, smirking. "I doubt it. I think you scared her off."
I scoffed. "I mean, she was all over you, and that pissed me off. Especially now that I know what she did to you… she deserved more of a scolding. I can’t believe people like her exist."
Namjoon raised a brow, grinning. "Careful, Y/N, you're starting to sound a little jealous."
"Huh? I’m just saying she shouldn’t be touching you like that. I’d feel the same way if anyone did that to one of my friends! This isn’t jealousy," I replied, looking away.
Namjoon chuckled as he pulled out his car keys and unlocked the car. We got in, and he began adjusting his seatbelt and checking his mirrors. I couldn’t help but find it a little endearing, so I quickly snapped a photo of him without him noticing. I just wanted a memory of all this when it was over.
Once he started the engine and began driving, we discussed when he was free to meet up again.
"I'm free tomorrow evening since we got most of the filming done today. How does that sound for you? Are you free?"
"Let me check my calendar," I replied, pulling out my phone to double-check. "Pretty sure I’m free too." After confirming I had no meetings or other plans, I smiled at him. "Yep, tomorrow evening works!"
"Perfect. I’ll need just three hours of your time."
"Only three hours? Wow, Namjoon, you really know how to disappoint a girl!" I laughed, teasing him. "Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘Give me the whole evening, baby!’"
Namjoon shook his head, chuckling. "Well, I was trying not to be too greedy, especially since you were the one who originally suggested just an hour. But hey, if you're offering…" He grinned, glancing over at me. "Actually, I don’t know if your sister mentioned it yet, but Jungkook has been bugging me for weeks about a double date. I finally told him I’d consider it, only if you said yes, of course. It could help clear any doubts your sister has about us… but it's totally up to you."
"Wow, you really thought this through, didn’t you?" I replied, impressed. "Sure, I don’t mind going on a double date with you guys if it helps. So… where are we meeting again tomorrow?"
"I’ll text you the location later. It’s a surprise," he replied, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Look at you, trying to make a girl feel special, huh?" I teased.
"If it’s you, I don’t mind going all out," Namjoon said softly, turning his head to meet my gaze. I just stared at him, eyes wide.
A beep from the GPS broke the moment, snapping me back to reality. I hadn’t realized how quickly time had flown and Namjoon had already parked near my place.
"Guess we’re here," I murmured, feeling a strange sense of disappointment.
"Yeah… already," he whispered, almost to himself.
I unbuckled my seatbelt, preparing to leave, when I suddenly felt his hand resting gently on my thigh.
"Stay still," he said in a low, quiet voice.
I froze, my mind going blank as I looked up at him, heart pounding. But before I could process it, he was already out of the car, walking over to my side. He opened my door, extending his hand to help me out, the softest hint of a smile on his face.
What a tease. I thought to myself, holding back a grin. "Keep this up, Namjoon, and you’re going to make every girl fall in love with you," I said, raising an eyebrow.
He laughed softly, his hand still holding mine. "Maybe I only need one girl to."
***
When I got back home, my sister was exactly where I’d left her, sprawled on the couch, scrolling through her phone. She glanced up, grinning. “So, how was Namjoon? And the guys?”
“Good. I’ll fill you in later; I’m exhausted. Going to bed,” I replied, stifling a yawn.
“This early? It’s only 8:30pm!” she called, giving me a suspicious look.
I smirked. “Well, I have a date tomorrow, so I need my beauty sleep. Night!” I rushed to my room, giggling as my sister yelled after me, begging for details.
As I shut the door, I couldn’t help but smile. This whole fake relationship wasn’t so bad after all, I was actually having fun. And Namjoon was surprisingly perfect at being my “boyfriend”. After changing into my pajamas, I replayed the events of the day in my mind, from our moment in the elevator to the way he’d looked at me during the drive home. With a contented sigh, I slowly drifted off to sleep, the memory of his warm smile lingering like a gentle whisper in the back of my mind.
***
Instead of giving me the location for our meet-up, Namjoon just texted to be ready by six, saying he’d pick me up himself. I guess he really didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Right on time, I waited by the entrance, and soon enough, a car pulled up. The window rolled down, revealing Namjoon in the driver’s seat, wearing a low-brim hat. Even with tinted windows, he was clearly taking extra precautions. Despite that, he still got out of the car and opened the door for me.
"Hi," he greeted as we both settled in, setting up the GPS to navigate. As he drove us through unfamiliar streets, I couldn’t help my curiosity.
"So… can you finally tell me where we’re going?" I asked, leaning over with a grin. "I’ve been dying to know."
“You don’t need to hype it up too much," he chuckled, glancing over with a shy smile. "It’s just a place I thought we could go to let loose for a bit, and afterward, I’ll take you back to my place to eat. My mom’s cooked a few dishes for me, but if you’d rather do takeout, we can do that, too."
“That sounds perfect! And we can take the photos there, too no need to worry about people spotting us. A lot of couples do such stuff at home anyway.”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Do… what at home, Y/N?"
I flushed, immediately backtracking. "Ya! That came out so wrong! I mean… couples do photoshoots at home, that’s all I meant! Nothing else."
“Right, photoshoots…” he teased, his dimples showing as he fought a laugh.
The drive was about thirty minutes from my place, but with all our teasing back and forth, we seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye. When we pulled up to a sleek building, Namjoon got out and took my hand, guiding me inside. At the counter, he had the tickets already pulled up on his phone, so the staff barely looked at us, though he was still keeping his cap low just in case.
Looking around, I started piecing things together. We were in an escape room building, and it clicked. I'd once mentioned wanting to try one with all the members someday. Namjoon must’ve remembered. While I was still taking in the space, he released my hand, turning to me with a smirk.
“So, figured it out yet?” he asked.
“Yes!" I laughed, buzzing with excitement. "This is amazing, I love it! We better get out on time, though. You’re known for being smart, so I expect you to really bring it tonight!”
He chuckled. “Alright, but heads-up: there are paid actors involved, and it’s a scary maze. Just watch out for that.”
“Ay ay, captain.”
***
We made it out with ten minutes to spare, and I was still cracking up over Namjoon’s reactions to the jump scares. For someone who’d warned me, he was definitely the one who got startled the most. The theme was intense, a hospital infested with zombies, where we had to find the antidote and escape. Despite all the screaming, Namjoon seemed to have had as much fun as I did. As we left the maze, I was still playfully nudging his shoulder, trying to stifle my laughter.
Just then, a staff member approached us, causing both of us to freeze momentarily. I worried he might recognize Namjoon, but the employee just smiled.
"Congrats! You both finished on time! We actually have a new feature where players who beat the game can take a souvenir photo, something to remember your victory by. Would you both be interested?"
I glanced at Namjoon, checking to see if he was okay with it. To my surprise, he nodded.
“Joon, are you sure?” I whispered. “What if someone recognizes you?”
He shrugged with a reassuring smile. "I doubt it. Plus, the whole point of this date was to make memories.. And take photos."
“Alright!” I smiled back, feeling a little thrill as we posed for the camera.
Namjoon slipped his arm around my shoulders, and I leaned into him slightly, flashing a peace sign as the staff member took the photo with a Polaroid camera. Moments later, he handed us the printout, a perfect little snapshot of our night.
***
After we finished taking photos, we made our way to Namjoon’s house, stopping to grab some drinks along the way. His mom had cooked some delicious side dishes, and we also ordered fried chicken, along with the inevitable soju, of course.
Once we arrived, we decided to put on some background music and set up the food in the living room, sitting on the floor across from each other. As Namjoon dug into his fried chicken, I couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction to the crispy skin.
“Here, let me get a picture of that!” I said, quickly snapping a photo of him mid-bite, his eyes wide in delight.
He chuckled, his mouth full. “You’re just going to keep embarrassing me, aren’t you?”
“Only a little! But I can’t help it. You look adorable!” I replied, scooting closer to him. “Now let’s take some of those selfies!”
As we snapped pictures together, I felt a warm flutter in my stomach. Namjoon grabbed my phone and started taking candid shots of me, making silly faces that had me laughing uncontrollably. His playful antics were contagious, and soon we were caught up in a whirlwind of laughter, striking goofy poses and trying to outdo each other with the most ridiculous expressions.
“Wait, do that again!” I said between giggles, holding up my hands as if I were trying to frame a perfect shot. “I want to capture your best ‘surprised zombie’ face!”
He obliged, widening his eyes and dropping his mouth open comically. “How about this?” he asked, pretending to stumble toward me like a zombie.
“Perfect!” I said, snapping the photo just in time. We took so many in different poses, wanting to ensure we had plenty of options for later. “I can’t wait to look at these in detail later and see which ones make the cut.”
After a few more rounds of photos, I suggested, “Okay, one last serious one! Let’s try a cute couple pose!”
Namjoon raised an eyebrow playfully. “You mean a ‘we're definitely not just friends’ pose?”
“Exactly!” I laughed, leaning into him as we settled into a pose. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me close, and I couldn’t help but feel giddy at the closeness. As the camera clicked, I savored the moment, knowing I’d want to remember this day forever.
“Okay, now that we’ve documented this historic moment, how about a game?” I suggested, feeling a bit tipsy already. “Let’s play Two Truths and a Lie!”
“Alright, I’m in! You go first,” he urged, grinning.
“Okay, um… I once met a celebrity, not any of you by the way, I can cook a five-course meal, and I have a pet turtle named Frank.” I announced, trying to sound serious.
Namjoon raised an eyebrow, clearly trying to figure it out. “I’m going to guess… the pet turtle is the lie?”
“Nope! Frank is very real!” I replied with a laugh. “It’s your turn now!”
“Okay, here goes,” he said, thinking for a moment. “I like to go to museums, I’m not scared of zombies, and I also have a crush on someone.”
I squinted at him, considering his words. “I think the lie is… you’re not scared of zombies!”
Namjoon laughed.”You guessed right, I made it easy for you huh.’’
“But wait,” I said, narrowing my eyes playfully. “What do you mean you have a crush on someone? Who is she? Now, I’m curious, should we put on a show for her too, or is this still about that awful ex?”
Namjoon’s gaze became intense as he looked at me. “Nah, you know her very well. No need for anything,” he replied, his tone teasing but serious.
I felt a flutter in my chest, my mind racing as I wondered if he was talking about me. But I shook it off, not wanting to jump to conclusions. “Oh, really? I know her well?! I don't think we have too many girlfriends in common, Joon. Give me a clue.”
Namjoon just stared at me, his expression unreadable. “For someone who's very intelligent, Y/N, you sometimes surprise me.” After a brief pause, he continued, “The day she notices and looks my way, I’ll tell you then.”
I couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. All this new information from the game had him saying such things. Maybe he was just tipsy. I didn’t want to push further, so I suggested something else to do. “Let’s just watch a movie for the rest of the hour!”
Namjoon chuckled and nodded. “Alright, what do you want to watch?”
“How about She’s the Man? It’s a classic!” I suggested, eager to skip the topic.
“Sounds good to me,” he replied, though I could feel his eyes still lingering on me as I settled in next to him on the couch.
I tried to shake off the feeling of his intense gaze and focused on the movie while we cleaned up the snacks around us, laughing and joking about our favorite scenes.
As the movie played, Namjoon grabbed his phone and recorded a quick video of me as I reenacted some of the funniest moments. He even jumped up to join in on the fun, pretending to act out a scene while I filmed him, both of us cracking up at how ridiculous we looked. But as the night wore on, we eventually grew tired and fell into a comfortable silence, the movie’s dialogue blending into the background.
I began to drift off, the combination of the delicious food, drinks, and the warmth of his presence lulling me into sleep. I could feel my eyelids growing heavy, and just before I fully surrendered to the peacefulness, I caught a glimpse of Namjoon’s soft smile as he watched me, his attention shifting from the screen to me.
Later on, when I finally woke up, I realized it was already the next day. Blinking a few times to gather my thoughts, I felt a warmth radiating from the body next to me. It took a moment for my sleep-fogged brain to register that I was tangled in a cuddling position with Namjoon. His arms were wrapped around me protectively, and a sense of comfort washed over me as I took in the cozy scene.
The soft light filtering through the curtains illuminated his peaceful face, and I couldn’t help but smile at how serene he looked in his sleep. His hair fell across his forehead, and his chest rose and fell gently with each breath. I shifted slightly, trying not to disturb him, but the movement only caused him to tighten his grip around me, pulling me closer.
Feeling a mix of warmth and butterflies in my stomach, I wondered how we had ended up like this. The memories of last night flooded back our laughter, the silly games, and the intense moment we shared when he mentioned having a crush. I bit my lip, trying to suppress the wave of emotions that rose within me.
Glancing at the clock displayed on the TV, I realized it was still early. I didn't want to break the peaceful moment, so I settled back against him, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. Just then, I heard him stir beside me. His eyes fluttered open, and when he met my gaze, a sleepy smile spread across his face.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep.
“Good morning,” I replied softly, my heart racing a little at how cute he looked. “Did we really fall asleep on the couch?”
“Looks like it,” he chuckled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I guess we had more fun than I thought.”
“Yeah, it was a great night,” I said, feeling a flutter in my chest. “I can’t believe I fell asleep like this. It was only supposed to be 3 hours!.”
Namjoon shifted slightly, brushing his fingers against my arm. “I’m not complaining. I could get used to this.”
I felt heat rush to my cheeks at his words. “Me too,” I admitted in a whisper, unable to hide the smile on my face.
***
Days passed, and Namjoon and I had been talking every day, exchanging random thoughts and snippets of our lives. It felt so natural, as if we had known each other forever instead of just a couple of weeks. The day after I left his appartament, I decided to send him the photos we took during our date. As I scrolled through them, I noticed that in most of the pictures, he was looking my way, and I couldn't help but blush.
I realized we only had two weeks left in our agreement. I couldn’t believe how quickly time had flown. Just when I was getting comfortable with this new dynamic, we had plans to meet again for Hobi’s party, celebrating the release of his new single” Chicken Noodle Soup.” The entire company was invited including me and my sister, and I felt a mix of excitement and nerves.
The night of the party arrived, and the energy in the venue was electric. I stepped inside and was immediately greeted by the sound of laughter and music. Namjoon was there, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted black shirt and jeans, but I knew we had to keep our distance given the crowd and all the staff milling around. Despite that, it was hard not to steal glances at him. I felt my heart race every time our eyes met, a small smile always tugging at my lips.
As the night went on, I found myself chatting with some of the other BTS members when a random guy approached me. He had an easy smile and an inviting energy that made him hard to resist.
“Hey there! Would you like to dance?” he asked, extending his hand.
I hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Namjoon. He was probably talking to J-hope about his thoughts on the song, but I could feel his gaze on me. Still, the music was calling, and I didn’t want to miss out. “Um, sure,” I said, taking the guy’s hand and following him to the dance floor.
The moment we started dancing, I could feel Namjoon’s eyes on us, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking. The guy was friendly enough, spinning me around and laughing as we moved to the beat. I tried to enjoy myself, but every time I caught a glimpse of Namjoon watching from a distance, my heart raced.
As I swayed to the music, I felt a rush of warmth at the thought of Namjoon. “You know, you’re a great dancer!” the guy said, flashing me a charming smile.
“Thanks! You’re not too bad yourself!” I replied, trying to keep the conversation light. But my mind kept wandering back to Namjoon, who looked tense, his jaw slightly clenched.
Just as I was beginning to get comfortable with the rhythm, I noticed Namjoon striding over. “Hey, mind if I cut in?” he said, a hint of possessiveness in his voice.
“Uh, we are in the middle of the dance…but sure.” the guy replied, stepping back, clearly scared by Namjoon's interruption.
Joon wasted no time taking my hand and pulling me into his arms. The moment he wrapped his hands around my waist, I felt a spark. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, leaning down so only I could hear. “I couldn’t let him have all the fun.”
“Namjoon, we’re in public…that's why I agreed to dance with that guy.I don't want the guest to spread rumors about any of this.” I said, glancing around at the crowd and in between us.
He shrugged, a playful grin spreading across his face. “Let them see. Besides, if you want Jimin to get jealous, you need to look at me more.”
“Wait, what?” I said, caught off guard.
“Just trust me,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Look at me while we dance.”
I nodded, biting my lip to suppress a smile. As we danced, I found it hard to concentrate on anything else but him. The way he held me felt different, intense and possessive. I could see Jimin nearby, talking to a couple of guests. He caught my eye for a brief moment and then turned to look at Namjoon, his expression unreadable.
Once the song ended, I stepped away from Namjoon, my heart racing. “Thanks for the dance,” I said, my cheeks slightly flushed.
“Anytime,” he replied, flashing that charming smile of his. Just then, Jimin approached, a casual grin on his face. “Hey, Y/N! Want to dance?” he asked, his tone friendly.
“Sure!” I said, feeling a little guilty about leaving Namjoon.
As I moved towards Jimin, I glanced back at Namjoon. He stood there, watching us with a mix of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place. I tried to shake off the feeling of tension as I began to dance with Jimin, who had a different energy than Namjoon. He was playful and energetic, making me laugh as we moved to the music.
“Having fun?” Jimin asked, spinning me around. “I saw you dancing with Namjoon earlier. You two looked good together,” he commented casually.
“Yeah, thanks! Just enjoying the night!” I replied, laughing. This was a first, maybe me and Namjoon dancing together perhaps made him a tiny bit jealous.
“So, just curious, for how long have you liked Joon-hyung?”
“Hah, what's with all these questions Jimin, since when does that matter. ” I insisted, though I felt a bit flustered under his gaze. What does he want to get out of this conversation?
‘’I mean you guys have been together for barely 2 months right, so your feelings aren't that strong yet I am assuming?
“I don’t think liking someone works like that,” I shot back, a little defensive.
“Oh really? How does it work then?” Jimin pressed, clearly intrigued.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, trying to articulate how I felt. “Well, I guess it’s more about the connection you build over time. It’s not just about the length of time you’ve known someone, but how you feel when you’re around them.”
“And how do you feel around me Y/N?”Jimin asked, his voice low, catching me off guard.
I paused, the question hanging in the air between us. My heart raced as I considered my response. “Um, I…” I faltered, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion about my feelings for Jimin. It was hard to articulate just how much my emotions had begun to shift.
Jimin seemed to sense my hesitation, a knowing smile creeping onto his face. “You know, you really light up the dance floor. If you ever need a partner, I’m your guy.”
I smiled, feeling flattered yet torn. “Thanks, Jimin! You’re a great dancer too.” But I couldn't shake the sense of uneasiness stirring in my chest. How did I really feel about both of them? Just then, I glanced over at the sight of Namjoon leaning against the wall, his whiskey in hand, watching us intently.
To my rescue, J-hope made his way through the crowd, grinning widely. “Hey, you two! Come on, we’re taking a group photo!” he called out, gesturing for me and Jimin to join the others.
Namjoon and I exchanged glances as we moved closer together, although I could still feel the lingering warmth of his presence beside me as we joined the group. The camera flashed, capturing the moment, and I felt a spark of happiness knowing I was part of this special night, even amidst the confusion of my feelings.
After the photo op, I looked around the venue, trying to soak in the atmosphere. The music was pumping, laughter filled the air, and I felt a surge of joy being surrounded by friends.
“Want to grab some snacks?” I suggested turning to Namjoon.
“Sure! Let’s go before they run out,” he said, flashing me a smile.
As we made our way to the food table, we chatted and joked about the party. “I can’t believe how much fun this is. Hobi really knows how to throw a bash,” I said, eyeing the delicious spread laid out.
“Definitely. And the food is amazing,” he agreed, grabbing a plate.
Just then, I spotted my sister across the room, chatting animatedly with Jungkook. I waved at her, and she returned the gesture with a huge grin. “Look, there’s my sister! She’s having a blast!” I pointed out to Namjoon.
“Your sister seems to be enjoying herself,” he said, glancing over. “And Jungkook looks like he’s making her laugh. They get along really well, huh?”
I nodded, watching them for a moment. “Yeah, they’ve always had a special connection. It’s nice to see her having fun.”
Namjoon chuckled, setting his plate down to grab a couple of snacks. “I can’t blame Jungkook. Your sister is awesome. But let’s focus on our snacks before they disappear!”
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort being there with him, the worries of the outside world momentarily fading away. As we finished eating, Namjoon turned to me, a curious glint in his eyes. “Hey, what were you and Jimin talking about while you were dancing?” he asked, leaning in slightly as if he wanted to hear my answer more closely.
I felt a slight flutter of unease at the question, the earlier conversation with Jimin flashing through my mind. I tried to keep my tone casual. “Oh, nothing important, really. Just typical dance floor talk,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand.
“Are you sure? It looked like you two were having a pretty deep conversation,” Namjoon replied, raising an eyebrow. There was an intensity in his gaze that made me feel like he was trying to read between the lines.
I swallowed hard, feeling a pang of guilt for not being entirely truthful. How could I tell him about what happened, when I didn't have an answer yet. “Dont worry about it.”’
***
Since the party, Namjoon and I have been texting here and there, casual conversations that left me wondering if he’d been busy or just distant. But beneath each message, I could sense a tension, something unspoken simmering between us. That dance with Jimin at the party had left me wondering if I still had feelings for him, or were they fading? And why did talking to Namjoon feel so natural, like we’d been doing this for years?
Either way, this was supposed to be the last week of our fake relationship. We’d both agreed on that. I wanted to bring it up, to ask him what he thought about it all, but every time I tried, the words just wouldn’t come.
Friday arrived, and my sister reminded me of the "couple's date" she’d set up, me with Namjoon and her with Jungkook. I groaned, grabbing my phone to check with Namjoon. Part of me hoped he’d back out, but when I texted, he just replied, "I’ll be there."
That evening, we all met up at a lively bowling center. The place was buzzing with laughter, the crash of pins, and cheers from other lanes. This was a favorite spot for Jungkook and my sister; they always loved a bit of competition, so naturally, they thought it’d be the perfect place for all of us to meet up. I spotted them near a lane, already laughing and waving us over.
Namjoon was sitting close by, fiddling with the scoring screen and taking a sip of a drink he’d already ordered. He looked up as we approached, a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth. His calm confidence eased some of my jitters.
“Hey,” he said, reaching for my hand as I sat down beside him. It was a simple gesture, yet it sent a tiny spark running up my arm.
“Hey,” I replied, glancing up at him, trying to gauge his mood. Did he sense that I was nervous?
We barely had a moment to settle in before my sister leaned in with a playful smirk. “So, Namjoon,” she teased, “are you keeping my sister out of trouble?”
Namjoon chuckled, squeezing my hand gently under the table. “Actually, she’s the one keeping me out of trouble.”
My sister laughed, and Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “You two seem like you’ve got this whole couple thing down.”
A lump formed in my throat. Did we? I cast a quick glance at Namjoon, who seemed unfazed, as always. His calm expression gave nothing away, and it almost made me want to ask, was he as unsure about everything as I was?
When the server came to check on our orders, I realized I hadn’t even glanced at the menu. I’d been too wrapped up in how to bring up the impending end of our “relationship.” Just then, Namjoon leaned over, his voice gentle.
“I ordered you a light beer, since you looked a little distracted,” he said, eyebrows slightly raised in question.
I blinked, snapping back to reality. “Oh! Yeah, that’s perfect. Thanks.”
As the night went on, it was easy to fall into the rhythm of the group, though I couldn’t shake the sense that something was missing. Jungkook and my sister were on a roll, winning nearly every round with their practiced ease, while Namjoon and I fumbled our way through a few frames, laughing despite our weak scores.
Jungkook grinned, picking up his ball with a flourish. “Looks like Namjoon’s been busy writing again, huh? You’ve got that faraway look, hyung.”
Namjoon smiled, shrugging slightly. “It’s been a busy month. A lot of new music, ideas I’m trying to figure out.” He shot me a quick look. “You know how it is.”
“Yeah, he’s definitely been putting in the work,” I added, although I wasn’t entirely sure. He’d been so occupied, and sometimes I felt like just another task on his to-do list.
“Y/N?” My sister’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Oh, sorry!” I said, snapping back to the game. I could feel Namjoon’s eyes on me, but I avoided his gaze, feeling caught.
“We need to focus here,” he whispered, his tone soft but playful. “No more zoning out, partner.”
I laughed, trying to ignore the way my stomach flipped. Maybe it was just the thrill of the night, or maybe it was the weight of something unspoken hanging between us. For a fleeting moment, I thought Namjoon was looking at me with the same question in his eyes, the same confusion and quiet hope I felt, but before I could be sure, he looked away.
After a few more rounds of bowling, we decided to explore the arcade on the upper level of the center. The lights from the machines cast a warm, colorful glow, and the air was filled with cheerful noises, beeping games, laughter, and the click of tokens sliding into slots. Namjoon and I stayed close, trying out a few games and exchanging easy laughs, while my sister and Jungkook were busy competing at air hockey.
“Look at this!” my sister called suddenly, bouncing up and down as she spotted an old-school photo booth tucked in the corner. She grabbed Jungkook’s hand and waved us over with a huge grin. “We have to get in there and take some pictures. It’ll be like a memory of tonight!”
The four of us managed to squeeze into the tiny booth, laughing as we scrambled to fit into the narrow frame. My sister gave enthusiastic instructions, calling out poses as the camera clicked.
“Alright, first shot: everyone smile!”
The camera flashed, capturing the four of us grinning, cheeks squished together.
“Now, do a funny face!” she said, pulling a ridiculous expression that made us all crack up just in time for the next shot.
“For the last one… let’s make it a couples’ kiss!” she said with a mischievous sparkle in her eye. She turned to Jungkook, already leaning in for their shot. I felt my heart pound in my chest as I turned to Namjoon, feeling my face flush as I took in his expression.
Namjoon’s eyes met mine, and for a second, I saw the same hesitation, the same unspoken question that had been following us all night. We’d never kissed, not even for show, and now we were in this tiny photo booth with a camera about to flash, only inches separating us. I could feel his breath, warm and steady, as he leaned forward ever so slightly, his face close enough that I closed my eyes, waiting for the moment to come…
But it didn’t.
I opened my eyes just as he pulled back, offering me a polite, almost forced smile. My stomach dropped, and a wave of embarrassment washed over me, making my cheeks burn. Trying to brush it off, I quickly turned to the camera after the last flash, the awkwardness settling heavily between us like a wall.
When the photo strip began to print, I couldn’t ignore the nagging questions twisting inside me. I stepped out of the booth with the others, walking a bit farther so they wouldn’t overhear, and Namjoon followed, sensing I wanted to talk. I glanced at him, feeling vulnerable but needing to know. “Namjoon… why did you stop?”
For a second, his usual composure slipped, and I caught a glimmer of something almost sad in his eyes. Then he shrugged, looking away. “There’s no point, Y/N. We’ve only got a couple of days left of this… arrangement, right?” He gave me a small, almost bitter smile. “Besides, Jimin’s probably already feeling jealous enough. I saw you two at the party, you were laughing with him, looking happy. I figured… there’s no need to make this more complicated.”
His words felt like a punch to the chest. I realized then just how much I’d been hoping for that kiss to mean something, for it to be a turning point between us. But the way he dismissed it so casually left my heart aching in ways I hadn’t prepared for. I swallowed hard, forcing down the tears threatening to rise.
“You don’t even know what we talked about,” I said, my voice barely steady. Jimin had asked me at the party how long I’d liked Namjoon, and maybe I had smiled without realizing it. I hadn’t told Namjoon about it that night because I hadn’t known how I felt then. But now… now, I was sure. I wanted him more than anyone, yet he’d just walked away from the chance to kiss me, even after I’d closed my eyes and leaned in. If he couldn’t even kiss me now, he clearly didn’t feel the same way.
Namjoon’s face was hard to read as he replied, his voice quieter. “You’re right, I don’t know. But I asked you then, and you didn’t tell me. I get it, Y/N… this is fake, and I’m not your boyfriend. You don’t owe me anything, so I didn’t push it. But don’t act like you wouldn’t rather have Jimin here right now instead of me.”
I felt my anger and frustration rise to the surface, all the confusion of the past few weeks pushing me over the edge. “How do you know what I want?” I snapped. “You think you know me so well after just two months of us ‘being together’? You’re right, Namjoon, I don’t have to tell you anything. And since this ‘deal’ between us”, I gestured between us, my voice sharp, “ends in two days, maybe we should just end it now. Right here. I might as well go to Jimin after this.”
He stared back at me, hurt flashing across his face before he composed himself. “Fine. I thought that was the point of this whole thing anyway. Good luck.” he said flatly, his eyes holding mine with a hardened look. Neither of us spoke, tension building in the silence, the distance between us now feeling like miles.
Just then, my sister and Jungkook walked over, holding the strip of photos. My sister was laughing at first, but when she looked closely, her expression changed as she noticed the last photo.
“Wait… you two didn’t kiss?” She looked between us, her face full of confusion. “Come on, you guys!”
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension. “What’s going on?”
Something inside me snapped. All the frustration, disappointment, and anger bubbled to the surface. I turned to my sister, unable to hold back. “Because it’s all fake,” I said, my voice louder than I intended, the words coming out like a final admission. “None of this is real.”
The room fell silent. My sister’s smile faded, her face filled with surprise and hurt. Namjoon’s face went blank, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the shock radiating off him.
“Y/N, wait—” Namjoon reached for my arm, but I jerked away, feeling the sting of tears as they blurred my vision. Without another word, I turned and left the arcade, letting the lights and sounds blur around me as I hurried down the stairs, desperate to put distance between us.
***
When I got home, I shut my bedroom door and sank onto my bed, letting out a long breath. I tried to hold it together, but the weight of the night finally broke through, and a few tears slipped out before I could stop them. I felt so mixed up, like I’d been thrown into a storm without a compass. Namjoon’s words kept replaying in my mind—how he’d brushed off the kiss, how he seemed to assume I’d rather be with Jimin. It stung more than I wanted to admit.
After a while, I wiped my face, deciding I was done feeling sorry for myself. This was supposed to be a temporary, harmless plan, so there was no point in getting tangled up in something that wasn’t meant to be. I distracted myself for a bit, scrolling through my phone, but my thoughts kept circling back to him.
Then, I heard the front door open. Moments later, there was a soft knock, and my sister stepped into the room. She took one look at me, her expression a mix of concern and understanding, and came over to sit beside me on the bed.
“Hey,” she started gently. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
I hesitated, but she didn’t push, just sat there patiently until I was ready to say something.
Finally, she sighed and continued, “Look… Namjoon stayed a bit after you left. He… Well, he explained everything to us.”
I felt my heart skip a beat. “What did he say?”
She gave me a careful look. “He told us the whole thing, that you two only started dating to make Jimin jealous, and… to get back at his ex.”
I cringed, suddenly feeling a flood of embarrassment. “He told you that?”
She nodded, her expression softening. “Yeah. I think he was just trying to be honest. He looked really upset when he was explaining, though. Like… I don’t know, like he didn’t really want to be saying it out loud.”
I blinked, my mind racing. Part of me felt a strange sense of relief that she knew, but it didn’t erase the guilt or the way my heart still ached at the memory of his words in the photo booth.
My sister hesitated, then asked gently, “Y/N… who do you really like? Is it Jimin, or… Namjoon?”
I swallowed, feeling a weight settle in my chest. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I thought I still liked Jimin, but… being with Namjoon felt so natural, so easy. And tonight, it felt like maybe… maybe I’d been lying to myself about my feelings.”
She reached over and squeezed my hand. “That’s okay, you know. You’re allowed to feel confused. But it’s important that you’re honest with yourself. Just think it through, and don’t do anything just because you’re afraid of what it might mean.”
I nodded, feeling the tension ease a little. She stayed with me, her silent support enough to make the chaos in my heart feel a little less heavy. Maybe I didn’t have the answers yet, but I knew that tonight had shifted something inside me. And maybe that was the first step to figuring it all out.
***
By Saturday evening, I’d almost convinced myself that tonight would be normal, just a simple get-together with friends, no awkwardness or confusing feelings. Taehyung was hosting a small party at his place, just a casual night for all of us to catch up. I hesitated at first, but after all that had happened, I figured it would be good to see the others. Besides, Namjoon had already mentioned in the group chat that he couldn’t make it because something had come up, so it wasn’t like I’d have to worry about seeing him.
So that evening, my sister and I got ready and headed over together. The minute we walked in, the familiar sounds of laughter and the low hum of music filled the air, instantly easing some of the tension I’d been holding. I spotted Taehyung across the room, chatting with Yoongi and Jin, who were already nursing drinks. J-hope was over by the music setup, picking out the next track, and Jungkook waved at us as we walked in.
“Hey, you two! Glad you could make it,” Taehyung greeted us with a grin, pulling us both into a quick hug. He handed us each a drink, smiling mischievously. “Don’t worry, we’re just getting started.”
I laughed, feeling a bit lighter. We settled in, and soon I was chatting with everyone, catching up, swapping stories, and just enjoying the easygoing atmosphere. I’d forgotten how nice it was to just be around friends without the weight of the past week lingering over everything.
At one point, I glanced across the room and noticed Jimin looking at me. He didn’t say anything, just watched me with a quiet intensity that sent a little jolt through me. I quickly looked away, pretending not to notice, but I could feel his gaze lingering, even when I wasn’t looking his way.
A little while later, Taehyung clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. “Alright, everyone! Time for a little game to keep things interesting.” He grabbed an empty bottle and placed it on the table. “Let’s do a classic: Never Have I Ever. But first, drinks all around!”
Everyone cheered, and we each grabbed a drink. Before starting the game, Taehyung took out his phone and snapped a quick photo of everyone holding up their drinks, laughing and cheering. “Alright, group photo for the memories,” he said, quickly sending it to the group chat.
I checked my phone and saw the notification pop up in the chat. I couldn’t help but smile at the picture, everyone looking so carefree and happy. Just then, I noticed that Namjoon had seen the message. A small pang hit me, but I shook it off and put my phone away, trying to focus on the game.
Taehyung spun the bottle, and as it pointed at each person, they took turns saying things they’d never done, and the others either drank or laughed as they tried to remember their own stories. The energy was light, with people teasing each other over the stories they shared, and even Yoongi was getting into it, smiling more than usual.
At one point, Jimin leaned over and grinned at me as I took a sip for something silly someone had said. “You’re a bit of a mystery, aren’t you?” he said, a hint of teasing in his voice.
I rolled my eyes, trying to brush it off. “Or maybe I just have a lot of secrets,” I shot back with a smirk, making him laugh.
The night went on, and I couldn’t deny that there was a certain freedom in being here without Namjoon, like I could just be myself without all the confusing feelings getting in the way. But every now and then, I’d catch Jimin’s eyes on me, the way he seemed to be watching me a little too closely, like he was waiting for something.
About 30 minutes into the game, just as the conversation was getting more lively and the drinks were flowing, the front door swung open. I didn’t even notice at first, lost in conversation with Jungkook about some random funny video he had seen. But then, I heard a familiar voice from across the room.
“Did I miss anything?”
I turned, and there, standing in the doorway, was Namjoon. He was casually dressed, a slight smile on his face, but his presence hit me like a wave. My heart skipped, and suddenly, the air felt a little heavier. He was here, and I hadn’t expected it at all.
He must’ve noticed the change in atmosphere because everyone’s attention shifted to him. Taehyung grinned, raising his drink. “Look who decided to show up! The party’s just getting started, hyung.”
Namjoon gave a half-shrug, his gaze scanning the room before landing on me for a brief second. He didn’t stay on me long, though, quickly moving toward the group and grabbing a drink from the counter. I tried to keep my composure, but the tension in my chest was impossible to ignore. He’d shown up, and everything I thought I’d managed to put behind me came rushing back.
Jimin, on the other hand, didn’t look away from me. His gaze was sharper now, and I could feel the weight of it, like he was waiting for me to react. I looked down at my drink, trying to focus on anything but the way Jimin’s stare was beginning to make me uncomfortable.
Namjoon joined the circle, exchanging pleasantries with the guys. He settled in, his usual calm demeanor in place, but there was something more guarded about him tonight. I couldn’t help but wonder if he felt the tension too, or if I was just imagining it.
After a few moments, Taehyung clapped his hands again, getting everyone’s attention. “Alright, let’s keep the fun going. Who’s up for a round of shots before we start the new round?”
Namjoon smiled, but I could tell it was a little forced. “Sure,” he said, reaching for the bottle that was passed around. I noticed that when he got to me, his hand paused for just a second, like he was trying to decide something, but then he took the shot with a steady hand.
Jimin, who had been quiet for the last few minutes, finally spoke up, his voice light but pointed. “You sure you’re up for this, Namjoon? You looked like you were busy earlier.”
Namjoon glanced at him, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something came up. But I’m here now. So, no more excuses.”
I could feel Jimin’s eyes on me again, sharp and almost searching, but I kept my gaze ahead, not wanting to react. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me so much, but there was something about the way he was looking at me, almost like he knew something I didn’t.
The game continued, but now there was a new layer of tension. I could feel Namjoon’s presence weighing down on me, even as he chatted with the others. I tried not to look at him, but I couldn’t help it. Every time I glanced in his direction, he was either talking to someone else or looking at his phone, but there was a part of me that kept waiting for something to happen. What was I waiting for? I wasn’t sure, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were far from resolved.
And as much as I told myself I should enjoy the night with everyone else, a part of me still wanted to know what Namjoon was thinking, why he’d suddenly shown up, and what it meant for the weird, fake relationship we were trying to make sense of.
The mood in the room was light, with alcohol flowing and teasing picking up. Taehyung, ever the instigator, leaned forward with a devilish grin, clearly enjoying the attention as everyone turned toward him.
"Alright, alright, let’s make this interesting," he said, his eyes scanning the group. "Never have I ever liked a girl in this group." He looked directly at Jungkook, raising an eyebrow as if daring him to drink. "Come on, Jungkook, no skipping this one. You know the rules."
Jungkook immediately rolled his eyes. "Gladly," he muttered, grabbing his drink without hesitation. He downed a shot, then looked at my sister, sending her a flying kiss before turning back to Taehyung. His face tried to stay serious, but he couldn’t hold back the grin tugging at his lips. "Happy now?" he said, clearly playing it off for laughs, but the whole room could tell it was more for fun than anything deeper.
Namjoon was next. He took a sip from his glass, his gaze never leaving mine. I couldn’t help but notice the intensity in his eyes as he drank. I tried to remind myself that he was just continuing the act, that this was still a fake relationship, that we were pretending for everyone else since we hadn’t told them yet the truth about ending it. It was all a game. But something about the way he held my gaze made it harder to believe it was all pretending.
Then, just as I was processing it all, Jimin, of all people, raised his glass. His move was so sudden that it left the whole group stunned into silence. Without a word, he took a shot, his eyes locked on me the entire time, a quiet challenge lingering in his expression.
The room went silent. The tension was palpable. No one knew how to react. Taehyung blinked first, breaking the silence with a loud, surprised laugh.
"Well, I guess we’re all in now," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Looks like we’ve got some secrets floating around in this group."
But I didn’t find it funny. My heart pounded in my chest, the situation suddenly feeling a lot more real than it had a few minutes ago. Jimin’s move was unexpected—why had he done that? And Namjoon... his constant attention, the way he drank right after Jungkook , it felt too intentional. Had I been reading too much into everything? I couldn’t focus on anything else, the weight of the moment hanging heavily between the three of us.
The game continued, but all I could do was watch, trying to ignore the strange mix of emotions that churned inside me. Something had shifted, and I couldn’t figure out what it was.
I excused myself from the game, the weight of everything pressing on me like a physical force. I needed space to breathe, to clear my head, and figure out what was going on in my own heart. My thoughts were spiraling, tangled in Jimin’s unexpected actions and Namjoon’s steady gaze. What did any of this mean? I couldn’t make sense of it, and it was eating away at me.
I made my way toward the guest room, my steps slow and heavy, as if I could outrun the thoughts crashing through my mind. Was Jimin really into me this whole time? Did the plan to make him jealous actually work? What was going on between Namjoon and me? And why did everything feel so... real tonight?
I stepped into the bathroom of a guest room and stood in front of the mirror. The reflection staring back at me didn’t seem like mine anymore, too confused, too lost. I closed my eyes, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest, but it wasn’t enough. I needed to get away, to clear my mind.
Before I could walk back into the party, I heard the door to the guest room open in front of me. I froze. It was Jimin. I didn’t expect him to follow me, and my heart jumped into my throat.
He stepped in slowly, looking like he was carefully choosing his words. I turned toward him, but I didn’t know what to say. The silence hung heavy between us.
"Y/N," Jimin said, his voice calm, but there was an edge of vulnerability there. "Can we talk?"
I didn’t trust my voice, so I simply nodded, still unsure of what was happening. His presence filled the small room, and my nerves were on fire.
He sighed and took a step closer, clearly thinking about what to say next. "I didn’t expect Namjoon to show up tonight," Jimin began, his voice low and almost distant. "The guys had told me they saw him talking to his ex before he left the studio. I figured he wasn’t going to come, so when he showed up... I was surprised."
I tried to keep my face neutral, but the mention of his ex hit me harder than I expected. The thought of Namjoon with someone else, especially with that ex, was like a punch to the gut. But I stayed quiet, letting Jimin continue.
He ran a hand through his hair, frustration creeping into his tone. "But then Jungkook told me something yesterday. About you and Namjoon... about the whole 'fake relationship' thing." He paused, his eyes locking onto mine. "He told me that you two were pretending to make me jealous. That it was all an act."
My heart skipped a beat. Of course, Jungkook would have been the one to spill it. Now, hearing Jimin say it out loud felt like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over me.
Jimin shifted, his face growing more serious. "At first, I didn’t know what to think when I heard that from him. But then, it hit me." He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving mine. "I realized that I’ve been an idiot. I’ve been sitting here, watching you, pretending like I didn’t care, when the truth is, I care more than I’ve ever let on."
He took a breath, and my heart fluttered nervously in my chest. I didn’t know what he was about to say, but it felt like everything had come to this point.
"I’ve liked you for so long, Y/N," Jimin confessed, his voice a little softer now, vulnerable. "But I’ve always been afraid to say anything. Afraid that it would ruin our friendship, that it would change everything between us." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "I kept telling myself I wasn’t ready, that it was better left unsaid."
His expression softened, his eyes searching mine. "But watching you with Namjoon tonight and these past couple of months, pretending to be with him, it made me realize how much of a fool I’ve been. I should’ve stepped up sooner, I should’ve told you how I felt." He shook his head, frustration and regret in his voice. "I’ve been too scared, too wrapped up in my own insecurities to take a chance. But I’m done with that, Y/N."
He took another step forward, the space between us closing. "I care about you," he said, his voice steady now, full of sincerity. "I’ve always cared about you. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t. I like you, Y/N. I really like you. And I’m sorry it took me so long to say it."
I stood there, frozen, my chest tightening as his words echoed in my ears. Jimin, the guy I had had a crush on for a long time, had just confessed to me. The weight of his confession settled over me, both a relief and a shock. But there was also confusion, so much confusion. Had I been blind to all of this? Why had he never said anything before? And if I was being honest with myself, did I like him back anymore?
Before I could process everything, Jimin stepped closer, his eyes filled with hope and uncertainty. "So, what do you think?" he asked softly. "I know it’s a lot to take in, but I couldn’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way about you anymore."
I felt my heart racing in my chest, torn between Jimin’s confession and the unresolved feelings I had for Namjoon. I didn’t know how to respond, but I knew one thing for sure: everything had just changed.
I took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage I had left. This wasn’t easy, and I knew it was going to hurt, but I had to be honest with Jimin. I couldn’t keep pretending like everything was okay, like my heart wasn’t pulling in two different directions.
"Jimin," I started, my voice quieter than I intended, but firm. "I need to be honest with you. Yes, it was about you, making you jealous, at first. It was part of the plan, to make you see... make you notice me." I paused, watching his face as he took in my words. His expression shifted, and for a second, I could see the pain in his eyes, but I pushed forward.
"But somewhere along the way, it stopped being about that." I shook my head, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Somewhere along the way, I... I started to fall for Namjoon."
Jimin blinked, his lips parting slightly as if trying to make sense of what I’d just said. His gaze was intense, like he was searching for something in me, an explanation, an apology, I wasn’t sure.
"I don’t blame you for not realizing sooner," I continued, my heart heavy with the truth I was finally saying out loud. "I should’ve said something. I should’ve told you how I felt, instead of waiting around for you to make a move. I’ve been waiting for you to notice me for so long... and I was too scared to admit that I was falling for someone else." I wiped at my eyes, trying to hold it together, but it wasn’t easy.
Jimin’s face softened, his usual mischievous smile gone, replaced with something more vulnerable. "Y/N... I didn’t know," he murmured, his voice low. "I didn’t know you were waiting for me like that. I thought... I thought I had all the time in the world."
I nodded, feeling the weight of my own regrets. "We both did," I whispered. "But maybe it was meant to be this way. Maybe we weren’t supposed to figure this out sooner. Maybe everything that’s happened, all the confusion, the pretending... it was just leading me to this point."
I took a deep breath, feeling like I was freeing myself from something heavy I’d been carrying for far too long. "I like Namjoon now, Jimin. And I don’t know what’s going on with him, with his ex, or whatever. Maybe he’s with her again, maybe not. But I can’t keep holding onto what could’ve been with you, because I’ve realized it’s not just about you anymore."
The silence stretched between us as Jimin absorbed my words. I could see him trying to process everything, his eyes searching my face for any hint of uncertainty. But there was none.
"I’m sorry," I added softly, my voice trembling slightly. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. But I can’t keep pretending, either. I’ve made my choice."
Jimin finally sighed, his shoulders dropping as if he was releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His eyes met mine, and for the first time, there was no frustration or confusion in them, just a quiet understanding.
"I get it," he said, his voice rough but steady. "I kinda knew I was too late. And maybe... maybe I should have said something sooner too. But I can’t blame you for that. You deserve to be with someone who’s not afraid to take the chance, someone who’s not scared of ruining the friendship. I see that now." He smiled, but it was bittersweet. "And if Namjoon makes you happy, then I’m happy for you. I mean that."
I felt a weight lift off my chest, the tension between us dissolving in that moment. "Thank you," I whispered. "I... I never wanted to hurt you, Jimin. You’re still one of my dearest friends. I just had to be honest with you."
Jimin nodded, his smile softening as he gave me a reassuring look. "I know. And I’ll be okay. I’m not going anywhere, you know? We’ll figure this out, all of us."
The words he said were comforting, but the reality of it all still felt heavy in my chest. I wasn’t sure where things would go from here, but for the first time, I felt like I could breathe again, knowing that I had said what I needed to say, that I had let go of the past.
I took a final, steadying breath and gave him one last, grateful smile. "I’m glad we talked, Jimin. And... I hope things don’t feel too weird between us after this."
"They won’t," he assured me, his eyes soft with understanding. "We’ll be fine. You and me. I just... want you to be happy."
As the conversation came to a close, I took a step back, the weight of it all finally beginning to lift from my shoulders. Jimin and I had said everything we needed to say, and I was starting to feel like I could move on, that this awkward, unresolved tension was finally behind us.
Jimin offered a small, bittersweet smile before opening his arms. "Come here," he said softly, and without thinking, I stepped into his embrace. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t meant to be, but in that moment, it felt like the closure we both needed. I could feel his warmth, his steady presence, and it grounded me in a way that reassured me everything would be okay. We’d move past this, even if things weren’t perfect right now.
I closed my eyes, letting the moment stretch out for a few seconds, savoring the comfort of having things settle between us.
But just as I was starting to relax, I heard the door creak open.
I pulled back instantly, my heart racing as I saw Namjoon standing in the doorway, his eyes wide, mouth slightly parted in shock. His gaze flicked between me and Jimin, lingering on us just long enough for the weight of the situation to hit him too.
It felt like time had frozen for a moment.
"Y/N..." Namjoon said, his voice a little strained. "Jimin...?"
I didn’t know what to say. The look in his eyes made my stomach twist. It wasn’t jealousy exactly, but something like confusion, hurt.
Before he could say anything else, I quickly moved toward him, trying to make sense of the situation, the tension hanging thick in the air.
"I... We need to talk," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I looked at him.
Jimin, sensing the shift headed towards the door. I watched as Jimin left, his footsteps fading as he passed through the hallway, leaving me alone with Namjoon. The silence between us felt like a wall, too heavy to break, but I couldn’t ignore the burning need to face this.
I turned to Namjoon, my throat tight. "We need to talk," I repeated, this time louder, more urgent.
Namjoon nodded, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "Yeah. We do."
"Is this why you didn't tell me what you and Jimin talked about at the party?" Namjoon’s voice was tight, the words coming out sharper than I expected. "Did you get what you wanted, Y/N? Is this why you and him are hugging in a separate room?"
His words hit me like a cold wave, and I felt the sting of them settle deep in my chest. The air between us grew heavy, thick with the weight of his accusation, and I could feel the space between us shrinking in all the wrong ways.
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but nothing came out. His eyes never left mine, and there was something raw, almost broken, in the way he looked at me. It was like he was trying to figure out if he’d been a fool this whole time, if everything we had was just a game to me.
I took a shaky breath, trying to calm the storm brewing inside me. My heart was pounding, but I couldn't just let his words hang in the air like that.
"So, you're gonna judge me for talking to Jimin? After you were spotted with your ex?" I shot back, the words coming out sharper than I meant. "You have no right to say anything about me and Jimin when you’re doing whatever it is you’re doing with her."
The moment I said it, I regretted the bitterness in my tone, but I couldn’t help it. It was like everything inside me was bubbling up all at once, frustration, confusion, and that gnawing ache I’d tried to ignore for so long. Namjoon had been acting like nothing had changed, like he was fine with our arrangement, while I was over here questioning everything. And now he was calling me out like I was the one in the wrong.
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, his gaze faltered. I could see the flicker of guilt, maybe even regret, but it quickly turned into something else, something I couldn’t quite place. Was it anger? Jealousy?
I wasn’t sure, but I knew we were both standing on the edge, and I didn’t know how to pull us back.
Namjoon took a deep breath, his gaze briefly flicking away as if trying to gather his thoughts. When he spoke again, his voice was tight, his words sharper than usual. "Yeah, I met with her," he admitted, frustration evident in his voice. "But it's not what you think. She kept showing up at the company, begging for forgiveness, even after you told her to back off. I couldn’t ignore her anymore. I had to put an end to it, for good."
He paused, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and something else, something that felt too raw for me to understand in the moment.
His next words hit harder than I expected. "I saw you hugging him, Y/N. You got what you wanted, didn’t you? This whole game, this act you and me were playing for him. You wanted to make Jimin jealous, and now it finally worked." His voice wavered, and the words came out harsher than he probably intended, like he was trying to convince himself. "And here I am, watching all of it, like a damn fool."
There was a pause, and the room seemed to shrink with the tension between us. Namjoon stepped even closer, his presence almost overwhelming. He ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check. "You know what? It worked on me, too," he said, his voice low and pained. "I thought I didn’t care, If you still chose him after everything, but I do. More than I should. I’ve been lying to myself, pretending I didn’t feel anything, but seeing you with him, seeing you so... close... it made me realize how much I care.Why I can’t stop thinking about you”.
His voice broke, and I saw the regret and jealousy in his eyes. "I should’ve kissed you that night, Y/N. After we fought, I should’ve stopped you from leaving, should’ve said something. But I didn’t. I let you walk away, and I regret it every single second. I’ve been kicking myself for it ever since."
The room felt like it was holding its breath, the air thick with everything that had been said, and everything that was left unspoken. Namjoon stood so close, his presence overwhelming, yet it felt like there was still a gap between us, one that neither of us knew how to cross.
I finally found my voice, despite the tightness in my chest. "What’s stopping you now?" I asked, my tone quieter but firm.
Namjoon blinked, his eyes still searching mine, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice a little strained.
I stepped forward just a fraction, closing the distance, and then, with a sense of finality, I answered him. "The moment you saw after you came here, it was us giving closure to our feelings. Yes, it worked. I made Jimin jealous, and he confessed to me. But I turned him down, Namjoon. Because I can't stop thinking about you, too." My heart pounded in my chest, but I pushed through the fear, the uncertainty. "So, let me ask you again: What’s stopping you from kissing me now?"
The question hung in the air, thick and heavy. His eyes were locked on mine, searching, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For a brief moment, time seemed to stop as we stood there, inches apart, the silence between us deafening. I could see the storm of emotions in his gaze, hurt, longing, confusion, and, beneath it all, something that told me he wasn’t ready to walk away. Not this time.
And then, without warning, he took a step closer. His breath mingled with mine as he cupped my face with his large, warm hands. The touch was gentle, but there was a certain urgency to it, a need that seemed to pulse in the very air around us.
His thumb brushed against my cheek, a soft, almost reverent gesture, as if he were memorizing the feel of me under his fingertips. His eyes never left mine, but I could see the way his pupils dilated, the way his chest rose and fell with each shallow breath he took. And then, as if the weight of everything that had been left unsaid between us finally broke, he closed the distance, his lips crashing into mine with a force that took me by surprise.
The kiss was desperate, hungry, as though he’d been holding back for too long. His lips moved against mine with a raw intensity, a release of all the emotions that had been building between us for so long. His hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss, as if he couldn’t get enough of me, like he was trying to pour every ounce of feeling he had into that single, electrifying moment.
I responded with my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The world around us seemed to fade away, the tension, the confusion, everything that had been holding us apart, until there was only the two of us. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, as if we were both trying to make up for lost time, to reclaim something we had almost thrown away.
And in that moment, everything else ceased to matter. The only thing that existed was the overwhelming, undeniable connection between us, a connection that no words, no misunderstandings, could ever break.
The kiss grew more passionate, and everything around us faded into a blur. Namjoon’s hands were at my back, guiding me backward until the wall pressed against my shoulders. The warmth of his body, the intensity of his kiss, left me breathless and yearning for more. His lips moved with purpose, each touch sending waves of heat through my body. He pulled away for a split second, his forehead resting against mine as he caught his breath.
"Do you have any idea how long I’ve been thinking about this?" His voice was low, almost a growl, sending a shiver down my spine. "How your lips would feel against mine...I have been dreaming about it since that day on the elevator... no, even before that." He said it with such intensity that it made my heart race, and I couldn't help but wonder what he meant, but the questions would have to wait. I didn’t care to ask them now. All I could focus on was him, the way his lips moved with mine, the way he made me feel.
I arched my back as my head leaned against the wall, and his hands found their way to my waist, lifting me effortlessly off the ground. My legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as the kiss continued. His lips trailed down to my neck, kissing and biting gently murmuring words like ‘mine’ above my skin between every kiss, sending a mix of pleasure and electricity through my body. Soft moans escaped my lips, and I could feel the heat between us building. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, unable to get enough of him.
But then, a loud crash echoed from the other room, pulling us both out of our haze. We froze for a moment, catching our breath, our faces inches apart.
Namjoon let out a frustrated sigh, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "We can continue this later," he said with a teasing smirk, still holding me tightly against him. "I will make up for every time I didn't kiss you, I promise."
The playful yet possessive undertone in his voice sent a wave of heat through me, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of his words. But for now, we both took a step back, trying to regain some composure as the sound of the broken bottle in the other room faded into the background.
Before we left the room, my fingers nervously tugged at the hem of Namjoon's shirt, a sudden shyness washing over me. The heat from the kiss still lingered on my skin, and the words I needed to say felt heavy on my tongue, almost foreign after everything we’d just shared.
"Namjoon," I started, my voice barely above a whisper as I avoided his gaze for a moment. My heart was racing, my hands slightly trembling as I looked up at him. "I... I want to be with you," I confessed, the words feeling like they had been waiting to escape for so long. "After everything that's happened, I don’t want to be here anymore. I just... I want to be with you. Alone."
He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smile, but there was something tender in his gaze. "You want to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low, as if he were savoring the thought. "Are you sure?"
I nodded, my fingers still clinging to his shirt, my gaze lifting to meet his. "Yeah... I can pretend to be sick. We can just leave together. I don’t want to be around anyone else right now." The idea of being with him, just the two of us, felt like the only thing that made sense in that moment. Everything else, the party, the other people, suddenly felt so far away.
Namjoon’s expression softened, and he placed a hand gently on my cheek, as if grounding me in the moment. "If that’s what you want, we’ll leave Y/N." he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Let’s go."
I smiled, relief flooding through me as I took his hand. We didn’t need any more words. We were finally on the same page.
As Namjoon and I walked back into the room, the weight of everything between us still lingering in the air, we were met with curious glances from the group. My sister was the first to notice me, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the flush on my face, the way I clung a little too tightly to Namjoon’s side.
"Y/N?" she asked, her voice soft, but there was a hint of suspicion in her tone. "Are you okay? You look... a little off."
I blinked, quickly thinking of something to say. My mind was still clouded from everything that had just happened, but I needed to get out of there, needed to get away from all the questions and awkward tension.
"I... I feel a bit tipsy," I said, offering a small, apologetic smile. "I think I need to head out first. It’s been a long night."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly still a bit skeptical. But before she could ask more, Namjoon stepped in, his voice smooth and calm.
"I already ordered an Uber for us," he said, his hand gently resting on my lower back, as if to reassure her. "We’ll head to my place. Don’t worry about her. She’ll be fine."
Jimin, Jungkook, and my sister exchanged glances, clearly surprised, but they didn’t press further. After a beat, Jungkook nodded, his usual easygoing smile returning.
"Take care, Y/N. Hope you feel better," he said, giving me a quick wave.
"Yeah, feel better," Jimin added.
My sister’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer, but then she sighed, shrugging as if she’d decided there was nothing to do about it.
"Alright, take care of yourself," she said, giving Namjoon a quick nod, as if accepting the situation. "Don’t do anything too crazy, okay?"
I smiled weakly, feeling a mix of guilt and relief at her words. It was like she knew, but she didn’t. Either way, she was letting me go, letting me make my own choices.
With that, we exchanged goodbyes, and Namjoon and I walked out, hand in hand, the door shutting softly behind us.
As we left the party, the world outside felt like a breath of fresh air. The night was cool, the streets relatively quiet. But all I could think about was what had just happened between us. Everything that had been left unsaid before now felt so clear. There was no going back now.
And as the Uber pulled up and we climbed inside, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. The uncertainty was gone. Whatever had been between us, whatever it was that had kept us apart, had finally clicked into place. And now, as the city lights blurred by the window, I knew that whatever came next, I’d be ready for it, with Namjoon by my side.
***
As we stepped into Namjoon’s apartment, a comfortable silence settled between us. The faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything that had just happened. He closed the door behind us, his hand resting on the doorknob for a moment as he turned to face me.
“So,” he began softly, his eyes meeting mine, “are you… really okay with this? With us?”
I felt a shy smile tug at my lips. “I’ve never been more sure.” My voice was soft, but I meant every word. I was here, and I didn’t want to turn back. “What about you? Are you… okay with all this?”
Namjoon let out a low laugh, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. “I think I’ve been waiting for this, waiting for you, for longer than I ever realised.” There was a warmth in his gaze, something so honest that it made my heart skip a beat.
We moved further into the room, and he gestured for me to sit. “Do you want something to drink? Water? Tea?”
I nodded, chuckling nervously. “Tea sounds good. Something calming, maybe?”
He flashed me a knowing smile and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me to take in my surroundings. I’d been here before, once late at night for our date, but I hadn’t paid much attention then, too caught up in the moment with him. Now, with a moment to breathe, I could see pieces of his personality everywhere, books stacked on the shelves and in piles on the floor, his collection of vinyl records carefully arranged next to the coffee table. It all felt so unmistakably him.
A few moments later, he returned with two steaming mugs, setting one in front of me. As he sat down next to me on the couch, close enough that our knees brushed, he looked at me with a more serious expression.
“Can I ask… when did it change for you?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper. “When did you know you felt something for me?”
I took a slow sip of tea, hoping it would help me organize the mess of emotions inside. “Honestly?” I hesitated, feeling a blush creep up my cheeks. “I think it was always there, in some way.”
He tilted his head slightly, watching me closely, and I felt my heart skip at his quiet attention.
“I mean, I liked Jimin, yes… but when I first met all of you, you were the one that caught my eye. But I found out pretty quickly that you had a girlfriend back then, so I pushed the thought away and settled on seeing you as just a friend.”
Namjoon’s eyes softened as I spoke, and it gave me a bit of courage to keep going. We both set our mugs down on the table, the warmth of the tea long forgotten as the weight of our words filled the space between us.
“But when we started pretending…” I paused, looking down at my hands. “It felt more real than I expected. I kept telling myself it was just for show, just a game we were playing. But the more time we spent together, the harder it was to pretend it didn’t mean anything.”
I looked up at him, meeting his gaze. “I didn’t say anything because I was afraid. Afraid I’d misread it, or that I’d just end up… hurting you, or myself.”
He reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I wish I realised sooner.”
I felt his thumb tracing soft circles on my hand, the warmth of his touch anchoring me in the moment. His quiet reassurance, the way he looked at me, it was all starting to melt away any lingering doubts I had.
“Well, we’re here now,” he repeated softly, his gaze steady and full of something I could only describe as understanding, and maybe relief.
I managed a small, nervous smile. “Yeah, we are.”
There was a beat of silence, comfortable and calm. Then, taking a breath, he lifted his other hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "And now that we’re here,” he murmured, his voice a little lower, “I think we both deserve to stop second-guessing ourselves."
He paused, his eyes searching mine. “We don’t have to pretend anymore. No more games, no more hidden feelings. Just… us.”
My heart raced at his words, the weight of everything finally lifting. I looked down at our intertwined hands, feeling a warmth bloom in my chest. “No more pretending,” I echoed, feeling the truth of it settle over me. I met his gaze, a soft smile tugging at my lips.
“So… where do we start?” I asked, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves, savouring the closeness.
Namjoon’s smile softened as he shifted closer, his eyes warm with that familiar spark. “How about we start fresh?” he murmured, and then, leaning in, he pressed his lips to mine, a tender, lingering kiss that felt like a quiet promise, a beginning we’d both been waiting for.
He pulled back slightly, his gaze searching mine, before leaning in again, his lips brushing softly over mine, testing, savoring. Slowly, his hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers tracing gentle circles, and I felt him draw me in closer. This time, the kiss deepened naturally, as though all the unspoken feelings between us were finally finding their way through, leaving my heart racing in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
It felt as though we were back in that moment in the guest room, but this time, without the weight of uncertainty between us. His hands were gentle yet sure, tracing down my back, leaving warmth in their wake. The kiss grew bolder, a mix of all the moments we’d held back, and I felt my own hands grip the front of his shirt, pulling him even closer.
We broke apart just briefly, his forehead resting against mine, both of us catching our breath, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"I was thinking of ordering us something," he murmured, his voice a low whisper that sent a thrill through me. His gaze locked onto mine, dark and filled with intent, and I could feel the tension building between us again.
"But dinner can wait," he added, his words dripping with warmth, making my heart race. "Right now, all I want is you."
With that, his lips found mine again, a bit hungrier this time, and I let myself melt into it, matching his intensity as the moment wrapped around us, everything else falling away.
As the kiss deepened, my hands slid up to his chest, fingers brushing over the firm muscles that were hidden beneath his shirt. I could feel the strong beat of his heart, and I couldn't help but smile against his lips, knowing the effect I was having on him.
Namjoon’s breath hitched slightly as I gently tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head with a growing sense of urgency. The cool air brushed against his skin, and I let my fingers trace the contours of his muscles, marveling at how solid and defined he was. He shivered slightly under my touch, his body reacting to me in ways that made my heart race.
"Y/N..." he breathed, his voice a low growl of pleasure as I ran my hands down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath my fingertips. "You don't know what you do to me."
A soft moan escaped his lips as my touch moved lower, the heat between us intensifying with each passing second. He pulled me closer, his hands sliding to my back, pulling me flush against him and laying me on the couch. Our bodies pressed together, and I felt his desire, undeniable and powerful, pressing into me.
I broke the kiss just long enough to look up at him, my breathing shallow as I let my hands roam, feeling every inch of him. His eyes were dark, his lips swollen from our kiss, and he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in that moment.
"You’re so beautiful," he murmured, his hands moving to my waist, slipping beneath my shirt, his touch warm and electric against my skin.
I gasped softly as his fingers skimmed the skin of my back, sending a wave of heat through me. My hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, and we resumed kissing, this time with more urgency. The world outside of the room didn’t exist anymore, there was only Namjoon, and the undeniable pull between us.
We continued, caught in the heat of the moment, kisses growing more passionate, more desperate as we lost ourselves in each other. Time seemed to stand still, and all that mattered was the connection we were building, one that felt right, real, and unlike anything I had ever experienced before.
Namjoon pulled out for a bit to catch a breath and leaned in closer again , his breath warm against my skin as he gazed down at me, his fingers brushing gently along the fabric of my shirt. His voice was low, smooth, and filled with a quiet intensity.
"Can I?" he asked, his eyes flickering between my chest and my eyes, seeking permission with the unspoken question.
I nodded, my heart racing, feeling the heat of the moment building between us. There was no rush, just the weight of our emotions and the pull between us. Slowly, he slid his hands to the hem of my shirt, his touch reverent, as if he was savouring every inch of the space between us.
As the shirt lifted over my head, I could feel the electricity between us intensifying. Namjoon didn’t break eye contact. He looked me up and down, enjoying the image. “So perfect, just for me...” His gaze was unwavering, filled with something deeper than desire, something more intimate. His lips parted, but before they could meet mine again, he lowered his head, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my neck, his lips tracing the curve of my skin.
I arched into him, my fingers threading through his hair. The kiss from his lips moved down my throat, then between my breasts, and continued further down to my stomach. He stopped just above my heat, still covered by my pants, sending a surge of warmth through me.
Then, as his lips came back up to mine, my hands reached for his belt, never breaking the kiss. My fingers fumbled with it briefly, but soon it was undone, he helped me push his trousers down. He kicked them off swiftly, and moved to undoing my trousers, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked them off my body. As he traced his fingers along the inner part of my thigh, his lips continued their journey down my skin, sending electric jolts of anticipation through me.
Now, we were both only in our underwear. Namjoon hovered above me, his eyes meeting mine with a silent question, a flicker of hesitation in his gaze as he sought my consent. I nodded, breathlessly. With that, he placed a hand on my back, unclipping my bra slowly, as if savouring the moment. He slid it off with ease, his hands now fully free to roam.
His touch was firm yet tender as he cupped both of my breasts, his fingers gently kneading them while his lips found the spot below my ear, murmuring sweet words against it. His breath was hot against me, the weight of his words sending waves of desire down my spine. I could feel his body pressing into mine, his clothed groin humping me, the heat between us building again.
“Joon” I moaned. “I think I need you now.” My body felt hotter by each second that was passing.
“I know, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and intense. “Just let me pleasure you more first. Let me take care of you.”
He continued with his move again, not breaking eye contact as his hand travelled down, hovering just above my heat. Gently, he moved my panties to the side and slid one finger in. He retracted it and put the finger in his mouth.
“So wet…so sweet” Namjoon murmured, licking the slickness from his finger. I gasped from the pleasure as he went back and slid in another finger, both now moving in and out. Then he began using a scissoring motion, working in perfect rhythm. When he added a third finger, my vision blurred.
“Ah… I think I’m close,” I managed to gasp.
“Then come for me, Y/N,” he urged, finding that perfect spot that made me tremble. A high-pitched cry escaped me as I reached my climax, releasing everything that had built up inside. But it was not enough. I needed more of him.
“Namjoon, you either fuck me right now or else—”
“Or else what?” he teased, smiling and hoovering on top of me.
“I—I don’t know. I’ll probably fuck myself again with my own fingers if I can,” I breathed.
“As much as I’d love to see you do that, I think that can wait a little,” he said, his voice low and teasing.
Before I could protest, he scooped me into a bridal position and rose to his feet.
“I’d be lying if I didn’t say I almost fucked you right here, when you were calling my name. But as much as I want to, I’d like to make you comfortable first, in my bed,” he said, walking toward his room.
A few moments later, I felt the soft cold mattress behind my back as Namjoon placed me down hovering again on top of me. I looked up and slowly averted my gaze down toward his bulge, it looked big and hard, his member almost ripping off his underwear. Both breathing heavily I came forward again and caught his lips against mine. But that didn't last long as Joon put some distance and quickly gave me a peck on the forehead.
‘’Fuck”’ Namjoon hisses under his breath.”’Look at you so perfectly layed on my bed” his eyes continuing to roam my body, and when they reached a particular part my female hood, I decided to tease him further and sliding my panties slowly to the side while under him. His eyes returned to me for a bit and then back to where my hands were occupied. Silence creeped all over the room and only the beating of our heart and breaths could be heard. There I was now all bare under him, soaking wet anchoring for his touch.
“Fuck... Y/N… You have no idea, do you? The effect you have on me. God only knows how many times these walls have heard your name these past weeks.”
“So... you mean... you did that?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, his voice thick with need. “Even in my dreams, all I could see was you. I’ve craved you every day since we started this whole ‘fake’ thing. And now...” He trailed off, his gaze intense. “I’m going to make you feel good, baby. I—”
“Fuck, Joon… just fuck me already, please.” I pleaded, unable to stand the teasing, the intense gaze, and all the compliments any longer. Just the sound of his smooth, raspy voice had me close to reaching my second orgasm.
“Someone’s needy… and ruining that pretty little mouth for me,” he murmured.
“If you let me, I think you'd be surprised at what else this mouth can do,” I replied with a smirk.
“Oh?...than I better fuck you now so you can show me all of that later”
Namjoon stretched his arm to my right, above my head, reaching for his nightstand. He opened the top drawer and took a condom out of the box. I didn’t even question it—he’s a grown man, after all, and probably has a lot of experience with this.
Still, I felt a little shy. It wasn’t my first time, but thinking about it all made me feel a hint of pressure. I quickly pushed that thought away, I liked Namjoon a lot, and he seemed to like me too. My eyes shifted to his actions as I tried to stay in the moment.
He slipped out of his boxers, and his thick, hard length sprang free, red and glistening with precum.
"Shit, Joon..." I whimpered, looking up into his eyes.
"What?" he asked with a smirk, clearly amused by my reaction.
“You’re huge... How is that going to fit?” Embarrassment crept up my cheeks.
“You’ll get used to it,” he murmured, his voice low and confident.
If my face had been red before, now my whole body felt on fire. But I wasn’t about to let him think this was too easy for me.
“You sound so cocky… What if you end up disappointing?” I teased, laughing softly and covering my mouth.
Namjoon’s grin widened as he rolled the condom on, then slid two fingers into me without warning. I gasped, muffling the sound with my hand, thankful I’d caught it, or the whole neighbourhood might have heard.
"Let’s just say you chose the right member, love... the one that’ll make you scream the loudest.” he murmured.
I couldn’t respond, only nodding as he began to move his fingers, preparing me for what was to come. He met my eyes, waiting for my signal, and when I nodded again, he slowly replaced his fingers with his thick length, easing himself in.
If I hadn’t seen stars by then, I certainly was now. One push, and I was already crying out from the stretch.
“Fuck, so tight, so perfect... Y/N, tell me if it hurts,” he whispered, voice rough.
But I was too lost in pleasure to respond, only nodding and moving with him as he began to thrust, each movement filling the room with our heavy breaths, pants, and the sound of skin meeting skin.
Namjoon lifted one of my legs, hooking it over his shoulder, and suddenly, he was hitting a deeper spot that made me see white.
I wouldn’t be surprised if my legs ended up bruised. Longing for his lips again, I reached up and captured his mouth, losing myself in the kiss.
Tongues and teeth met as we kissed until Namjoon broke away, gasping for air. “You take me so well, Y/N… like your body…” His fingers traced circles over my clit. “This pussy… was made for me.”
I couldn’t respond, just nodding and crying out in pleasure. The way Namjoon made me feel, the way he moved inside me, it was like we were perfectly made for each other. Everything that had come before led to this moment, us becoming one.
Thrust after thrust, kiss after kiss, I lost all sense of time.
Not until Namjoon said against my neck “I don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,” he panted.
“Then let go,” I whispered.
“Y/N, I’m about to—”
“Me too.”
And with that, we came together, bodies pressed close, shuddering in sync as the last waves of pleasure passed over us.
Namjoon pulled out, quickly removed the condom, and tied it off before stepping out of bed.
Moments later, he returned, gently wiping me clean with a warm towel. His movements were soft, careful, as if he were savoring each moment. I watched him in silence, feeling a strange mix of bliss and tenderness settle over me. Once he finished, he tossed the towel aside and lay back down beside me, pulling me into his arms.
We stayed like that, wrapped in each other, letting our breathing slow in sync. His fingers traced gentle patterns along my shoulder, and I closed my eyes, melting into the warmth of his embrace.
"So," I said, breaking the silence with a teasing smile, "I guess the sex wasn’t that bad after all."
Namjoon laughed softly, looking at me with a raised brow. “Oh really? Just not that bad? I thought I was pretty damn good.”
I grinned, poking his chest playfully. “You were good. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Perfect. There’s still a lot I could teach you.”
His expression shifted, and I saw that familiar smirk spread across his face. “Is that so? I’d love to see what you’ve got in mind, Y/N,” he teased, his voice low and filled with mock confidence.“Does it have anything to do with that pretty mouth of yours?”
“Careful now, Joon. I won't give you the satisfaction just yet,” I teased back, running a finger down his chest. “Besides, you’ve had a lot of practice pretending, but a real relationship with me is a whole different thing, you know?”
Namjoon’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in, brushing his lips against my ear. “Oh, I’m not pretending anymore, love. And I think we’ve got a real thing going here. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
I laughed, a little breathless from the way his words made me feel. “I think I can handle it. You just better keep up.”
He chuckled, pulling me closer, his lips brushing against mine in a brief but tender kiss. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that. But I’ll be sure to keep you on your toes.”
“Good,” I whispered, my smile playful as I looked up at him. “Because if you can’t keep me entertained, I know someone who can.”
He growled softly, pulling me closer, his arms tightening around me. “You’re really trying to make me jealous, huh?”
I smirked, teasing him further. “Maybe I am.”
Namjoon’s expression softened, but there was still that edge of possessiveness in his eyes. “You’re mine now, Y/N. Let’s make sure you don’t forget that.”
And with that, it seemed like Joon and I were bound to continue, losing ourselves in each other throughout the night.
***
The morning sun crept in through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. I stirred, feeling Namjoon’s arm wrapped around me, our fingers loosely entwined as we lay facing each other. His eyes were still closed, a relaxed expression softening his features. I smiled, gently tracing my thumb over his knuckles, feeling an overwhelming sense of warmth and contentment.
As if sensing my gaze, Namjoon’s eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
“Morning,” I replied, a little shy as I tightened my hold on his hand. We lay in silence for a few moments, just taking in the comfort of being close, his fingers absently tracing small circles along my back. I layed there with him, enjoying the quiet simplicity of the moment, feeling like we didn’t need any words to understand what we were both feeling.
After a while, a thought crossed my mind, and I couldn’t resist asking. “You know… I’ve been meaning to ask,” I started, my voice barely above a whisper, “you mentioned you liked me a while back. Was it… that time during our date, when we played Two Truths and a Lie, and you mentioned that you had a crush on someone… Was that me?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as his thumb continued to stroke along my spine. “Yes, but” he said, looking into my eyes with a gentle smile. “It was actually before that, long before.”
Namjoon’s eyes held mine as he gathered his thoughts, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t know if I ever told you this, but the first time I saw you, it wasn’t like anything I expected. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, you just… had this ease about you that made everyone around you feel comfortable. It got to me.”
His fingers traced light patterns along my face now as he spoke. “Back then, I was with my ex, so I didn’t dwell on it too much. But even so, there was this… spark of curiosity, you know? Like, I wanted to understand what made you, you.” His smile grew fonder, his eyes distant, lost in the memory.
I felt my cheeks warm at his confession, my heart racing as I watched him speak. “And then… when my relationship ended, it felt like I was finally allowing myself to really notice you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “But by then, I could tell you had your eyes set on Jimin. And I’ll be honest, it bugged me a little. I just couldn’t shake this feeling that he was missing something… how foolish he was not to notice you”.
I could see the faintest hint of frustration flash in his eyes“ And I don’t know, maybe it was selfish, but… I wanted you to look at me that way. It started small at first, just these little moments where I’d think about you, or catch myself looking for you at gatherings. Then, when I’d see you laughing at something he said, I’d feel this pang of… jealousy.”
He took a deep breath, his gaze steady and filled with something raw. “When I saw you on that balcony, smoking and looking lost in your thoughts, I couldn’t help but wonder what was on your mind. And I thought, why not make my move? If Jimin was too blind to see you, maybe I’d have a chance. Even if it was selfish, even if I was coming in knowing you liked someone else… I just wanted you to see me, notice me, even if I had to pretend at first.”
Namjoon paused, looking down at our hands, his thumb stroking softly over my knuckles now. “I guess that was when I realised… pretending or not, I just wanted you to feel about me the way I felt about you.”
His honesty made my heart swell, and I was at a loss for words. I could see in his eyes that every word was real, and in that moment, I knew he was letting me see a part of him he rarely showed anyone else.
My heart pounded as his words sank in, the honesty and vulnerability behind them making my chest tighten with emotion.
“Guess it was lucky for me that Jimin never noticed, then,” I whispered with a soft smile, and he chuckled, his forehead pressing gently against mine.
“Lucky for both of us,” he murmured, his gaze warm and full of promise.
“This still feels like a dream,” I said softly, my gaze drifting over his face. “These past two months, and then last night… it all feels unreal.”
“Feels pretty real to me,” Namjoon replied.
I grinned, unable to resist a tease. “You know,” I murmured, leaning in slightly, “for someone who was so sure of himself last night, you seemed pretty determined to impress me.”
Namjoon’s brow arched, and he chuckled, squeezing my hand. “Determined? Or just confident?”
I let out a laugh. “Confident? Maybe,” I said, grinning. “But I’d say you were pretty eager to prove yourself.”
“Oh, is that so?” he asked, his voice low and playful, as his fingers continued to trace gentle patterns along my hand. “Sounds to me like you enjoyed every second.”
I bit my lip, raising a brow. “I don’t know, Mr. Kim. You may have to convince me again.”
Namjoon’s eyes sparkled, his hand slipping around my waist, pulling me a little closer. “Careful, Y/N. If you keep teasing me, I might just have to make it my mission to remind you all day,” he murmured, his lips hovering close to mine, a playful challenge lighting up his gaze.
I smirked, raising an eyebrow. “How about I take charge today instead?”
A flicker of curiosity sparked in his eyes, and he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the idea. Instead, he leaned back slightly, watching me with a smirk of his own as I moved even closer, letting the suggestion linger between us.
We were still both very much naked from last night, with only the sheet draped over us. I shifted slightly, lifting myself just enough to reach toward his nightstand on my left, remembering from last night that this was where he kept the condoms, or at least, I was pretty sure that’s where they were.
Namjoon’s smirk deepened as he watched me, clearly intrigued. "Oh, I’m all yours," he murmured, his tone full of invitation. He leaned back further against the headboard, keeping his arms folded behind his head, completely giving in to the moment.
As I inched closer, I took my time, savouring the way his eyes never left mine, his gaze filled with a mix of amusement and anticipation. I slowly opened the wrapper, letting the silence hang between us, thick with tension and a playful edge. His breathing grew just a little heavier, betraying his calm facade. His cock hard and dripping already as I slid the wrapper over him.
“Looks like someone’s enjoying the view,” I teased, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder as I positioned myself just above him.
He chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Well, you’re making it hard not to.” He raised an eyebrow, letting his gaze roam over me.
I smirked, letting my fingers trail slowly down his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. "Oh, am I?" I whispered, tilting my head as I looked at him, a mischievous glint in my eyes. "Because I could always take my time... really draw this out. Make you wait."
Namjoon’s gaze darkened, his smirk widening as he tried to keep his composure. “You think I’d let you get away with that?” he murmured, but there was a challenge in his tone that only encouraged me.
I leaned in, letting my lips brush against his neck, my breath warm against his skin. "I don’t think you’re in any position to stop me, actually," I teased, pressing a few light kisses along his jaw, my hands tracing down his sides, deliberately slow.
A low chuckle escaped him, and he tilted his head slightly to give me more access, his hands resting on my hips but making no move to stop me. “Careful,” he whispered, his voice soft but intense. “I might just lose my patience.”
“Then I guess you’ll just have to wait and see how long you can hold out,” I replied, brushing my lips just over his, close enough to feel the warmth, but keeping just enough distance to keep him guessing.
I held his gaze, letting a playful smile spread across my lips as I positioned myself, teasingly closer. Leaning in, I pressed my body against his, letting him feel the warmth but still holding back. I could feel his hands tighten around my waist as his breathing grew heavier, his gaze intense with anticipation and just a hint of frustration.
Slowly, I sank down, letting him feel the barest hint of contact, then just as quickly lifted myself back up, watching his reaction. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing with a mix of desire and impatience. “You’re really testing me here,” he muttered, his voice rough, a little desperate.
I smiled at his frustration, feeling the power shift in my favour as I teased him further. "Oh, but I like watching you squirm," I whispered, my voice light, yet dripping with the tension of the moment. I lowered myself just enough to feel the brush of him against me, but pulled away before it could escalate.
Namjoon let out a frustrated groan, his hands gripping my hips with an intensity that bordered on desperate. His eyes were burning with need, and I could see the control he was trying to maintain slipping away. "Y/N... please..." His voice was rough, almost pleading, and it sent a thrill through me.
I raised an eyebrow, enjoying the way he was unravelling before me. "Please what?" I teased, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered the words.
He froze for a moment, a conflicted look crossing his features before he finally let out a frustrated breath. "Please, don't make me beg," he muttered, his voice thick with want. "I can't take much more of this."
The challenge in his tone only made me smile wider. "Oh, but I think you can," I murmured, my fingers tracing his jawline as I leaned in close again, lips barely brushing his. "Beg for it, Namjoon."
The raw edge of his voice when he finally responded—"Please, Y/N, I need you..."—was all the confirmation I needed. The desperation in his eyes, the way his body tensed and trembled beneath me, made it impossible to resist. I slowly lowered myself once more, this time not pulling away.
When I sank down, both of us moaned in unison, the sound filling the air between us. I started moving up and down, the rhythm slow at first, but I could feel Namjoon trying to hold back his moans, his control slipping. He couldn't contain it anymore, and he began moaning my name, deep and desperate.
“Y/N…”
“Yeah?” I barely replied, my voice a whisper.
“I am yours, Y/N…”
The sound of it sent a rush of heat through me, and I found myself doing the same, moaning his name as I picked up the pace, moving faster and more urgently. He tightened his grip on my hips, his fingers digging in as he helped me move faster, the thrusts harsher now, each one more powerful than the last. His lips travelled down my neck and chest, and he began to play with my breasts, his kisses trailing down my body, sending waves of pleasure through me. My hands ran down his back, nails lightly scratching his skin as he groaned into me, his body pressing harder against mine.
He groaned my name again, the sound low and desperate, making my body tremble in response. I could feel the heat building inside of me, the pleasure spiralling with every move. I arched into him, feeling his teeth graze my skin, the sensation causing my legs to shake.
My hands roamed up to his hair, tugging him closer, pulling him into a kiss that was as urgent as everything else between us. His tongue met mine, hungry and demanding. The heat between us was unbearable now, the tension mounting, and I could feel myself getting closer to the edge with every passing second.
“You’re in control, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Take what you want.”
His mouth was parted, a low growl escaping him as he groaned, his eyes dark with need.
“God, Y/N, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, his fingers digging into my skin. “Don’t stop, don’t slow down.”
I leaned down, pressing my chest against his, our lips brushing together briefly before I lifted myself again, the sensation of him filling me overwhelming. His hands slid to my back, pulling me closer, pressing me into him as he thrust up in time with my movements, making me gasp.
“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” Namjoon breathed out. “I can’t... I can’t hold back much longer.”
“Say my name,” I whispered, my voice sultry as I rode him even faster.
“Y/N!” Namjoon gasped, his body trembling beneath me. “Y/N, please… don’t stop.”
The desperation in his voice made me smile, and I pushed myself to go even faster, each thrust more powerful than the last. I could feel myself getting closer, the pressure in my lower stomach tightening as I moved with him, both of us chasing that inevitable release.
“Fuck, Y/N… I’m so close…” Namjoon groaned, his hands gripping my ass harder, his body arching into mine as he kept me in place, him buried deep inside, grinding back and forth, stimulating my clit with every move. His breath was coming out in ragged gasps as he tried to keep his composure.
“Me too,” I panted, my voice breathless as I leaned down to kiss him, our lips crashing together in a desperate, hungry kiss. I kept riding him, faster now, each motion pushing us both closer to the edge. “Don’t stop, Namjoon... keep going...”
“I won’t,” he muttered, his voice rough, his hands pressing me down onto him harder, pushing us both to the brink. “Fuck, Y/N... I’m going to...”
His body tensed beneath me, and I felt the tight coil inside me snap as I let out a low moan, the pleasure rushing through me, making my vision blur for a moment. Namjoon followed right after, his grip tightening on me as he groaned my name, his release overwhelming him.
We both collapsed, breathless and spent, our bodies still tangled together, as the tension finally eased, leaving us in the aftermath of everything. I rested against his chest, trying to catch my breath, his heart still pounding beneath my ear.
"God," he whispered softly, his fingers gently running through my hair, his voice hushed but full of satisfaction. "That was... incredible."
I smiled, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the quiet settle between us as we tried to slow our breathing.
***
After, we showered together, the water cascading down our bodies, we shared a peaceful silence, the steam fogging up the bathroom. There was an unspoken comfort between us, the quiet intimacy of helping each other wash our bodies. The moments that would normally feel awkward or rushed felt so natural with him, every touch between us a wordless connection that I hadn't realised I was craving.
When we finally stepped out, the warmth of the room met our damp skin, and I reached for a towel, drying my hair as Namjoon looked at me with that familiar concern.
"Let me help you with your hair," he said softly, stepping closer.
I gave him a playful smile, brushing the towel through my hair. “It’s fine, Namjoon. I got it,” I reassured him, wanting to do it myself since I knew it would take a while to dry.
He chuckled, clearly not ready to stop being helpful. “Okay, then how about I make us some coffee? You probably need it after all that…” His words trailed off with a grin, but there was a hint of awkwardness in his tone, as if he wasn’t quite sure how to go from here.
“Sounds good,” I said, reaching for one of his shirts hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was oversized, the fabric soft and warm as I pulled it over my head, a small comfort against my still-damp skin. It felt right, almost like it was meant for me.
As Namjoon turned toward the kitchen, I couldn’t help but linger for a moment, watching him walk away. His broad shoulders and the way his muscles flexed with each step had my heart racing. I felt this undeniable pull to him, and the shirt I wore only made me feel closer, more connected to him. It was like I was already a part of his world, and that realisation made me smile, despite the growing rush in my chest.
I entered the kitchen, stopping in front of him to get his attention. The sight of me in his shirt, with nothing but my bare legs showing, made him freeze for a second. His eyes darkened, and the intensity in his gaze was impossible to ignore. He swallowed hard, the breath hitching in his throat as he looked me up and down, as if trying to decide whether he could keep his composure or if he was going to lose himself.
Before I could say anything, he stepped toward me, and with one swift motion, he lifted me up onto the kitchen counter, his lips capturing mine in a kiss that was desperate and full of hunger.
“You look so good in my shirt…” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and raspy. “I don’t think I can get enough of you.”
His hands roamed to my waist, pulling me closer and I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, the heat between us escalating in an instant.
But just as things started to get more heated, the sound of a phone ringing broke through the thick tension in the room. I pulled away just slightly, eyes narrowing as I tried to figure out whose phone it was. “Shit,” I muttered under my breath. It could’ve been Jungkook, or worse, my sister. Neither of them had heard from me since I’d come back here with Namjoon, and I knew they’d be worried by now. We hadn’t texted them about anything, not even letting them know I was still here.
Namjoon, looking just as frustrated at the interruption, gave me a brief kiss on the forehead before pulling away. “I’ll grab our phones,” he said, his voice heavy with need but also that underlying concern for what was going on outside the bubble we’d created for ourselves.
I slid back down from the counter, standing with my legs shaky from the intensity of our kiss. Namjoon went to grab the phones from the living room, and I quickly adjusted my shirt, feeling the sudden awkwardness of the situation hit me.
Namjoon returned with both phones in hand, and I glanced at the screen of mine, seeing the name that immediately caused my stomach to flip, my sister. I let out a deep breath before answering, holding the phone to my ear while my eyes stayed locked on Namjoon, who was now back at the counter, making coffee as though nothing had happened.
"Hey," I said into the phone, trying to sound casual, but there was a slight quiver in my voice that betrayed me.
“Y/N, are you still at Namjoon’s?” My sister’s voice was laced with concern. “I’ve been calling, texting, you didn’t answer any of my messages. We were getting worried!”
I glanced at Namjoon again, and his eyes were on me. There was no judgement, just an understanding in his gaze.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, speaking into the phone while my eyes never left Namjoon. I couldn’t help but smile at the way he moved about the kitchen so casually, so unaffected by what we’d just experienced. “I’m still at Namjoon’s, okay? I promise, I’ll explain everything later.”
My sister didn’t sound fully convinced, but she let out a small sigh. “Alright, just call me when you’re back. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“I will,” I assured her, hanging up after a brief exchange of more pleasantries. I looked over at Namjoon, who had just finished making the coffee and was now smiling coming towards me.
His smile was effortless, revealing his adorable dimples, and there was a warmth in his gaze that deepened with every moment we shared. As I stood there, the realisation slowly crept in that everything was finally falling into place. Soon, we'd have to explain everything to the group, the fake dating, the misunderstandings, and everything that led us to this point. Sure, some details would be left out, things that didn’t need to be said, but it no longer mattered. What mattered now was what we had here, right in this moment, real, unfiltered, and undeniable.
With Namjoon, everything felt authentic. There was no pretending, no uncertainty. For the first time, I didn’t have to second-guess myself or him. I was falling for him in a way I hadn’t expected, and this time, it wasn’t for show. It wasn’t a story we were playing out for anyone else. This was real. This was ours. And as I stood there with him, I knew that this was the beginning of something new, something I never wanted to let go of.
"And that's the final track done. Everything seems ready for the listening party this Saturday. Any last-minute tweaks, or should I send it through?" Hwan-seok asked, pulling off his headphones.
We were in the production room, wrapping up Indigo for its final check before the listening party. Tonight was the deadline to submit the tracklist for production, and the albums would start printing soon. It was almost midnight; Hwan and I had been here for six hours, perfecting every detail. Somewhere along the way, Hana texted back, replying to the list of things to do in Seoul I'd sent her. Keeping track of places to visit was just something I did, so putting it together for her wasn't a big deal. What was a big deal, though, was the fact that I'd texted her at all.
After so many people had tried to exploit me for attention, part of me worried she'd do the same. Had I been arrogant, assuming she didn't know who I was? If she did, she never gave it away, and there hadn't been any hint of our encounter in the media, no matter how much I searched. Maybe that's why I texted her—to test if she was genuinely different from everyone else in my life lately. Worst case, I'd change my number again, something I'd gotten used to by now. But then she sent a sweet, inviting reply halfway through our listen of the album, and I panicked, replying back coldly to keep my distance. I regretted it immediately. I knew better than to let my insecurities mess things up.
Then, as we reached the final track, she messaged me again. Unexpected. She invited me to a gallery exhibition—something from the list I'd sent her, something I'd wanted to check out myself. Lost in thought, I barely noticed Hwan talking to me again.
"Bro, are you even listening? What's up with you tonight? Something on your mind?" Hwan looked at me with concern.
I sighed heavily. "There's this girl..."
Hwan's eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward, listening as I told him about meeting Hana. I explained how, for the first time, I felt normal around someone new. How I wanted to keep talking to her, to get to know her, but ended up messing it all up by overthinking. Now, I didn't know if meeting her at the gallery was a good idea.
"Damn, man. Didn't see that coming," he smirked. "You sound kinda whipped, Dimples."
I shot him a glare, but he raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning.
"Hear me out," he said. "You're overthinking it. Yeah, you're famous, but that doesn't mean everyone's out to use you. Maybe she genuinely likes you—wants to know you for you?"
I shifted in my chair, staring down at the console. "You don't get it, Hwan. I don't have the luxury of taking that risk anymore. Every time I let someone in, it backfires. How am I supposed to know she's different?"
Hwan shook his head. "You're focused on what could go wrong. But what about what could go right? You said it felt... normal, right?"
Reluctantly, I nodded, recalling the ease of walking beside her, laughing over the simplest things. "Yeah. It was... nice. Different."
"Then what's the harm in trying?" Hwan leaned in, his tone serious. "You deserve that. I get it, you've been through a lot. But you can't hide behind walls forever."
His words began to sink in, loosening the knots I'd twisted in my mind. "And if it's just another mistake?"
"Then it's a mistake, and you deal with it," he said simply. "The company can spin it, and people will forget in no time. But at least you'll have tried. Don't let past bad experiences—okay, maybe a lot of them—keep you from meeting someone genuine."
I mulled it over, thinking about her gallery invitation. Nothing flashy, just a simple exhibit. Something I could easily arrange to go to quietly without the media or general public catching on. It was the sort of thing I'd attend with a friend anyway.
"You don't have to decide now," Hwan suggested. "Sleep on it. See how you feel tomorrow. If you're still curious, text her back about the gallery. Just see what happens."
I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "You think that's a good idea?"
"Honestly? Yeah, I do," he replied, shrugging. "And if it goes well, maybe invite her to the listening party. She'd be around people who already know you—no hiding, no pretence. You could just be yourself and see how she handles it."
I hesitated, picturing it. It felt almost too simple. "I don't know if I'm ready for her to meet everyone."
"Hey, it's just a thought," Hwan said, hands raised again. "But if you're that worried, having her meet you in your element could be a good test. You'd know quickly if she's the real deal."
He was right. It would be a chance to see if Hana was truly different. Even with doubts tugging at me, something about the idea felt right.
~~ Hana's POV (present) ~~
After our conversation in the kitchen, Jungkook and I made our way back to the party. I spotted Selina right where I left her initially, seated on the couch, chatting with her friend's cousin. The room buzzed with activity; people were scattered around, some sitting, some standing, while others were lost in the music, dancing to the rhythm of Namjoon's new songs.
As we walked, I noticed Taehyung talking with a group standing around the couch, while Jimin sat on the opposite side, occasionally glancing over at Selina with an expression I couldn't quite read. It made me wonder if there was more to their interactions than met the eye. I'd have to remember to ask her about it later.
"Are you gonna go and talk to Namjoon after the songs finish?" Jungkook's voice came from just behind me, a gentle reminder of the conversation waiting to happen.
"Yes," I replied with a slight nod. "I think it's only fair to finish what we started."
My eyes drifted to the back of the room, where Namjoon stood near the DJ, a quiet presence amidst the crowd. Then, as the song faded out, he took the microphone, and his deep voice filled the space.
"Thank you all for being here tonight," he began, and the room quieted. "This album, Indigo, has been a journey. A way for me to speak in silence, to express myself truthfully without causing confusion." His gaze swept over the crowd, his words carrying a depth that felt almost like a confession. "I think of Indigo as the last archive of my twenties, a blend of rock, pop, hip-hop, and funk that captures who I am, in this moment."
As he spoke, I could see how much this project meant to him, the way his emotions came through in every word. I was so captivated that I forgot I was supposed to make my way back to Selina. Just as I took a step back, my gaze accidentally met his, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as though he was speaking only to me. But then, a familiar jolt as I stumbled—again, nearly tripping over who I believe was the same guy who had bumped into me earlier.
As I stumbled, expecting to hit the ground, Jungkook's arm slipped around me, his hand resting at the small of my back. He pulled me close, steadying me with an ease that felt natural, almost instinctive. His hand lingered there, warm and grounding, and for a moment, it was as if we'd stepped out of the noisy party and into our own quiet space. I looked up, and his eyes met mine with a hint of a smile, something soft and unguarded. My heart fluttered, betraying me completely, and suddenly I was all too aware of how close we were.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice low, the words just between us.
"Yeah," I managed, barely above a whisper. "Thanks for... catching me.Maybe we should get back before I fall again. Have I mentioned I'm clumsy?"
"You didn't need to. I just saw it firsthand," he teased, his eyes sparkling.
"Whatever you say, Ian," I replied, throwing him a look, which only made him laugh.
"You're never gonna let that go, are you?"
Feigning innocence, I smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about."
After what felt like a small eternity, we reached the couch. Selina stood up, her eyes scanning my face as though reading every detail.
"Are you alright? I saw you almost falling back there," she asked, her tone laced with concern.
"I'm fine! Jungkook caught me before I could break anything."
"Good." She shot him a grateful smile. "So...are you two...you know, okay now?"
I nodded. "Yeah, I think we're fine."
"And what about Namjoon?"
I glanced over to where Namjoon had returned to the crowd. "Haven't had the chance to talk to him yet, but I'll probably catch him when things calm down."
We sat back down, sinking into the plush cushions. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Jimin and Jungkook chatting in Korean, discussing the new album's release and what they each liked about it. I picked up bits and pieces, though my understanding of Korean was still shaky. I let my mind drift, replaying the night's events over and over.
I must have zoned out, because I didn't notice when someone seated across from me started talking until Selina nudged me lightly.
"Oh! Sorry, yes?" I stammered, snapping back to reality. Standing in front of me was none other than Jin from BTS, a warm smile lighting up his face.
"Nice to meet you," he said, his tone friendly. "Hana, right? Jungkook mentioned that you know Namjoon, too."
"That's me," I replied, glancing at Jungkook, who gave me a small, encouraging smile.
Jin turned to Jungkook, his eyebrows raised slightly. "Geu saram-eun uri-ga nugunji ara?" he asked, and I caught enough to understand: Does she know who we are?
I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I know exactly who you all are. You're Jin from BTS. Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Worldwide Handsome." The title earned a laugh from the guys around us—I guess my quick Google search hadn't been for nothing.
Jin looked momentarily taken aback, clearly not expecting me to understand. "Do you speak Korean?" he asked, obviously impressed.
"Not fluently yet, but I'm getting there," I admitted, laughing a little.
Still grinning, he turned back to Jungkook. "Na-neun i-geos-eul jo-ahanda," he said with a nod—I like this one.
***
The other members—J-Hope and Yoongi—came over to greet me as well, their smiles as warm and welcoming as they were on screen. Each one of them had a unique vibe, but there was an undeniable kindness to all of them that put me at ease. It felt surreal standing among them, sharing laughs and small talk.
Selina, meanwhile, had settled in with Taehyung and J-Hope, who were already laughing and swapping jokes like they'd known each other for years. I watched as she let loose, leaning into her natural friendliness. She seemed right at home, giggling along with them like they were old friends.
After a moment, I let my eyes wander across the room, scanning for Namjoon. I finally spotted him toward the back, standing by the equipment table, quietly helping pack up some cables and speakers now that the main listening session had ended.
I took a deep breath. This was my moment; he was finally alone. I glanced at Jungkook as I got up, who gave me a reassuring nod, as if he already knew what I was about to do. With a small smile, I left the comfort of the group and made my way through the crowd.
As I approached, I felt a strange mix of anticipation and nerves. The night had already been full of surprises, but this conversation felt like the most important one. Namjoon was so focused he didn't notice me at first. When he finally looked up and saw me, he gave a soft smile, a hint of surprise in his eyes.
"Hana," he greeted, his voice warm but cautious. "I wasn't sure if you'd still be here."
"I, um, thought I'd stay," I said, trying to sound casual but feeling the weight of the moment. "I wanted to congratulate you on Indigo. It's... it's really incredible, Namjoon. You can feel every part of you in it."
Namjoon's face softened, and he set down the equipment he was holding. "Thank you. That means a lot." He glanced away for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. "This album... It's different from anything I've done before. It's my way of being real with myself, you know?"
I nodded, feeling the honesty in his words. "You can tell. There's a rawness to it, like you're letting everyone in on pieces of yourself you've kept hidden."
He looked at me, his gaze intense but kind. "That was the hardest part. Letting people see beyond the image, into... well, the mess that is me." He laughed softly, the sound a little self-conscious.
"It doesn't feel like a mess, though," I replied, finding the courage to meet his gaze. "It feels honest. It feels... real."
We stood in silence for a moment, the weight of his words settling between us. It felt like I was seeing him as he truly was, beyond the leader, beyond the idol. Just Namjoon, with all his thoughts and vulnerabilities laid bare.
"Thank you for saying that, Hana," he finally said, his voice a little quieter. "So... I guess you probably have a lot of questions," he said, his gaze dropping for a moment before returning to mine. "About why I kept my identity hidden, and why I invited you tonight without telling you much about... well, any of this."
I chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension. "You mean why you didn't just say, 'Hey, I'm Namjoon from BTS, want to come to an album release party?'"
A grin broke across his face, and he shook his head, a hint of embarrassment in his eyes. "Yeah, I guess that's exactly what I should've done." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "Honestly, I didn't want it to feel... different with you. It sounds strange, but it's rare to meet someone who just sees you as a regular person. That's how I felt with you, and I wanted to hold onto it a little longer."
I took a moment to let that sink in, feeling the warmth of his words settle over me. "I get it," I said softly. "It's a lot to put out there, I mean... I can't imagine what it's like for you to meet new people who already have an idea of who you are. Or think they do."
He nodded, a shadow of thought crossing his face. "Exactly. And I think that's why I didn't say much about who would be here tonight either. I figured if I told you, it might... I don't know, make you not want to come or make you feel like you have to act a certain way, or say certain things." He hesitated, then continued, "I just wanted you to come as you are. To be you, not someone reacting to 'RM' or the idea of what it means to be at this kind of party."
I could feel the honesty in his words, the vulnerability in admitting that he'd wanted something real—something uncomplicated. "Well," I said, giving him a reassuring smile, "I think you got what you wanted. Although," I added with a playful grin, "I could've used a bit of warning. You know, like, 'Hey, Hana, you might be casually bumping into some of the world's biggest idols tonight.'"
Namjoon laughed, shaking his head. "I should've known. But to be honest... I didn't expect you to stay. When you first figured it out, I thought... well, I thought you'd be overwhelmed and just... leave."
I looked down for a moment, then back up, meeting his gaze. "It was overwhelming," I admitted, "and honestly, I almost did leave. But... I realised I wanted to stay. Not just because of the music or the people here, but because... well, because you invited me. I trusted that you wanted me here."
He held my gaze, a flicker of surprise, then something softer in his eyes. "I'm glad you did. Because I wanted you to see this side of me too—not just the polished, rehearsed version."
There was a moment of silence between us, charged with unspoken understanding. Here was Namjoon, stripped of the usual layers, standing in front of me not as a global superstar, but as someone who simply wanted to be known, genuinely, by someone else.
"Thank you for letting me see that," I said softly. "I know how important this night is for you, and I don't take it lightly that you wanted me to be part of it. It means... a lot."
He smiled, this time more relaxed, his shoulders easing. "It means a lot to me, too," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "More than you know."
"Hana! How's the party treating you?" It was Hwan, Namjoon's friend, grinning as he joined us, clearly picking up on the comfortable energy between us. "And what do you think of the songs? Pretty incredible, right?"
I blinked, caught a little off guard by the sudden change in conversation, but I quickly smiled back at him. "Oh, it's been amazing," I replied, glancing at Namjoon. "The music was really beautiful and I love how every song feels like its own story."
Namjoon gave me a quiet, appreciative smile, and Hwan nodded enthusiastically. "That's exactly what he was going for. I've known this guy for years, and I think Indigo's probably the most Namjoon thing he's ever put out." He chuckled, giving Namjoon a friendly pat on the back. "He was a little nervous about it, but I told him people would understand, just like you did."
Namjoon laughed, shaking his head. "Thanks, Hwan. Always the hype man." Then he looked back at me, a softness in his expression that made me feel like we'd shared something meaningful in those last few moments.
"Well, I guess I'd better make the rounds," Hwan said with a grin, giving Namjoon a knowing look before heading back into the crowd. "It was great to meet you, Hana. Take care of this one—he can be a bit much sometimes!"
I laughed, and Namjoon rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of fondness in his reaction. As Hwan wandered back into the party, I realised it was getting late and the room had thinned out; only a few small groups lingered, laughing and chatting quietly as the evening wound down.
Just then, Selina approached. "Hey, Hana," she said softly. "I think it's probably time for us to head out." She glanced at Namjoon, then back at me, a knowing sparkle in her eyes.
I turned to Namjoon, feeling the weight of the night settle over me. "Thank you for tonight. For inviting us, and for... everything," I said, my voice soft but sincere.
Namjoon gave a gentle nod, his gaze warm. "Thank you for staying. It means a lot." He hesitated, as though he wanted to say something more, but then he simply offered a small, almost shy smile. "Take care, Hana. I hope this won't be the last time we see each other."
"Me too," I replied, feeling my heart flutter at his words. "Goodnight, Namjoon."
With a final, shared smile, I turned and joined Selina, who was already waving goodbye to the others. I spotted Jungkook standing a few feet away, watching us with a soft smile. He approached, hands in his pockets, looking a bit more like the "Ian" I knew in that moment.
"So, heading out?" he asked, his voice quiet, almost reluctant.
"Yeah, I think it's time," I replied, smiling back at him. "It's been... quite a night."
Jungkook chuckled, glancing down before meeting my gaze again. "I'm glad we got a chance to clear everything up, Hana. I know the whole 'Ian' thing was... a lot." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit sheepish. "I never meant for it to be that complicated."
I laughed softly. "Honestly, I think I'll always remember it as the most interesting introduction I've ever had." I reached out and gave his arm a light squeeze. "Thank you for being... well, for being you. Ian or Jungkook, I'm happy to know you."
Before either of us could say more, Taehyung and Jimin sidled up, grins plastered on their faces clearly a bit tipsy from the night as they looked between us. Taehyung leaned in, feigning a dramatic whisper to Jungkook. "Aww, our little Ian has found himself a lady friend," he teased, giving me a playful wink.
Jimin snickered, nudging Jungkook's shoulder. "Didn't you tell her you're an international heartbreaker, Jungkook? Or was that just 'Ian'?"
Jungkook rolled his eyes, though a blush crept up his cheeks. "Guys, come on. We're just saying goodbye."
But Jimin wasn't done. He turned to me, feigning seriousness. "Hana, just so you know, this guy"—he pointed at Jungkook—"is notorious for stealing hearts, so... be careful."
I laughed, playing along. "I'll keep that in mind, Jimin. Thanks for the warning." Then I looked back at Jungkook, letting the teasing slip away to something more genuine. He hesitated, as though he wanted to say more, but instead he simply held my gaze, his eyes warm with sincerity.
Taehyung let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. "Alright, alright, enough with the lingering eye contact. It's getting way too sappy here." He gave Jungkook a nudge. "Let the lady go, man, before you make her go home late."
Jungkook laughed, but he stepped back with a small, reluctant smile. "Guess they're right," he said. "But I'll see you again, Hana."
I nodded, feeling a bit of bittersweetness settle in. "Yeah."
As Selina and I finally made our way out, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin stood by the doorway, calling out playful goodbyes. Selina, still giggling at their antics, hooked her arm around mine, giving me a teasing look as we stepped into the night.
As we strolled through the quiet streets back to our place, Selina couldn't help but give me a sly grin. "So... any thoughts on who's the main lead here? Dimples or Mr. Fate Guy?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows.
I rolled my eyes, trying to hide a smile. "Selina, it's not like that. We're just friends... I think... you know, that's it."
"Uh-huh." She gave me a knowing look, crossing her arms with a playful smirk. "Good friends who invite you to private album parties and stare at you like you're the only person in the room?"
"Stop it," I laughed, nudging her. "It's not like that. They're idols, Selina. They're not going to be interested in something more. And honestly..." I trailed off, glancing at the night sky as if searching for words. "I'm just... happy to know them. To share moments like tonight."
Selina's smile softened as she took my hand. "I get it, Hana. But don't be so quick to put people on unreachable pedestals, okay? Who knows what could happen?" She winked, adding in a whisper, "Just know I'm kinda leaning towards team Dimples... though Ian has that whole fate-and-mystery thing going for him."
I laughed again, shaking my head as we continued on. In the silence that followed, I let her words linger, but not too deeply. For now, friendship was enough.
***
"What do you mean you went to the same party as BTS last night?!" Aera whispered, half-screaming as she nearly dropped the plate she was holding. Selina had just casually let it slip, and now Aera's eyes were wide with shock.
It was Sunday afternoon, and Nabi's family had invited all of us over for lunch at their beautiful, secluded home. According to Selina, a lot of influential people lived in this quiet neighbourhood, which made sense given how well-off Nabi's family was. The house, nestled behind high walls and lush greenery, was cosy and filled with warmth. Besides Nabi and her brother, only her parents lived here now; her sister had already moved out with her partner, who were both set to join us later.
In the kitchen, Aera, Nabi, Seon-Jae, Selina, and I were setting up plates and catching up on the latest news. Seon-Jae had started the conversation after mentioning that his cousin texted him last night, saying one of his friends had been at a work party with some "big names." One thing led to another, and Selina finally told everyone that the two guys I'd met during my trip so far turned out to be none other than two members of BTS.
"Wait," Nabi chimed in, pausing with a spoon in her hand, "are you telling us Ian and Joon were... Jungkook and Namjoon? As in the Jungkook and Namjoon?"
I bit my lip, glancing at Selina, who looked far too amused by the commotion. "Yes," I admitted, sighing. "I had no idea at first! They just introduced themselves as Ian and Joon. I only found out last night at Namjoon's album party."
Aera's jaw dropped. "So, you were hanging out with BTS this whole time, and you didn't even know?"
"Trust me, if I'd known, I would have freaked out ages ago!" I laughed, feeling the secondhand shock from her expression.
Selina shook her head, chuckling. "Oh, it was gold. You should've seen Hana when she figured it out. I think she turned every shade of red!"
Seon-Jae raised his eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. "So, now that you know...are things different? Did you say goodbye to them properly, or...?"
Before I could answer, Selina stepped in, teasing, "Well, let's just say Hana's caught between 'Mister Fate' and 'Dimples.'"
Everyone burst out laughing, and I felt my cheeks heat up again. But I couldn't help smiling at the thought of Jungkook and Namjoon. Our relations had been so genuine, so effortless, that it almost felt unreal now knowing who they really were.
"Well," I shrugged, attempting nonchalance, "we said our goodbyes. But they're just friends, you know? They have their lives, and I have mine."
Nabi nodded thoughtfully. "True, but if you could pick between the two?"
I laughed nervously, shaking my head. "No way. That's not even on my radar right now."
The doorbell chimed just then, and Nabi's mom called out to let us know the rest of the family had arrived. As we headed to the dining room, Aera whispered to me, "You know, even if they're idols, that doesn't mean you can't keep in touch. Friends are friends, no matter who they are."
I smiled, touched by her words. She wasn't wrong, and I couldn't deny that, deep down, I hoped our paths might cross again someday. I had restrained myself from contacting them after last night, a bit afraid that I'd come across as opportunistic or bothersome given their schedule. I had to leave it to them to see if they wanted me to still be around.
When we went to the table to set the last plates, Nabi's sister Yeri and her partner walked in followed by Nabi's brother who was out when we arrived. The dining room was buzzing with laughter as we settled around the table for lunch. Nabi's family had set out a spread of delicious dishes, and their warmth was infectious. Nabi's mom, a university professor, had taken a particular interest in Selina and me since the moment we'd arrived. It was like being welcomed into a family we'd known for years.
As we began to eat, Nabi's mom looked over at me with a curious, friendly smile. "So, Hana," she said, "Nabi tells me you're working on a PhD in neuroscience. That's quite impressive. Do you have plans for what you'd like to do after you finish?"
I swallowed a bite of food, feeling the weight of everyone's attention shift to me. "Thank you," I replied, smiling. "I'm still deciding, actually. I might stay in research, or maybe go into teaching. But I've always loved the idea of working in neurorehabilitation, something that would have a direct impact on patients' lives."
Her face lit up with approval. "That's wonderful, Hana. You'd make a real difference in people's lives." She took a sip of water, then added, "Though I do wonder if you have any time for yourself with such a busy schedule. You must be very focused, or perhaps...you are already seeing someone special?"
The question caught me slightly off guard. "Oh, uh, no, I'm not seeing anyone," I said, chuckling nervously. "I've just been so focused on my studies and travelling lately."
Nabi's mom nodded thoughtfully, glancing over at her older son, Sun-bin, who was quietly enjoying his meal at the far end of the table. "You remind me of my Sun-bin here," she said, almost to herself. "He's also so focused on his career...too busy to date, in fact."
Nabi cleared her throat. "Eomma, not this again..."
Her mother gave her a look, half amused, half chiding. "Oh, I'm just saying. When I see such a smart, accomplished young woman like Hana, I can't help but wonder." She smiled warmly at me, her suggestion as subtle as it was kind.
I smiled, feeling a little embarrassed but touched. "Thank you, that's really sweet."
Before she could say anything else Sun-bin interfered: "Eomma, geumanhaseyo..." Stop please.
Just then, as I reached for my glass, my phone buzzed on the table. I glanced at the screen and saw it was a text from Jungkook.
Kook - Bam's new owner: Hey! I'm picking Bam up from the centre this evening. Wanna join? Bam would love the surprise!
A rush of excitement coursed through me when I received his text, but it was quickly followed by a wave of worry. We didn't have any concrete plans for the rest of the day, aside from maybe grabbing a drink later with Selina's friends. I could still go if I wanted to meet up with him, but I was quite far from home and Seon-Jae had given us a lift, so it would take some time to get back. But would it be okay to see him? What if someone saw us? I didn't want any rumours to start that could cause problems for him.
Hana - Bam's previous owner: I'd love to, but I'm actually a bit far from my place right now, so it might take me a while. Not sure I can make it in time.
His response was almost immediate.
Kook - Bam's new owner: No problem! I can pick you up, and we can go together if you're up for it. Just text me the address.
Hana - Bam's previous owner:Are you sure? It might be...um, a bit risky?
He replied with a laughing emoji.
Kook - Bam's new owner: Don't worry. I can handle everything else. Just say yes!
I looked up at Selina, who had noticed my slight distraction and was watching me with a knowing smile. I texted her under the table:
Hana: Jungkook wants to pick me up to go get Bam... should I go? I don't want to be rude to Nabi's family by just ditching either.
Selina: Yes! Go, obviously! We're meant to leave the house around 16:30 to downtown either way so maybe go then?
I nodded and typed out my response to Jungkook.
Hana - Bam's previous owner: Alright, yes. Is 16:30 a good time to pick me up though? I am currently over a friend's family for lunch and we are not meant to leave till then.
Kook - Bam's new owner: Yeah that's perfect. The care centre does not close till 8pm so no need to rush.
Hana - Bam's previous owner: I'll just wait for you outside the place I sent you then!
Kook - Bam's new owner: Deal! I'll see you then.
As lunch wrapped up, everyone began saying their goodbyes. Nabi's family insisted on sending us off with warm hugs and promises to meet again soon.
"Are you sure you don't want us to wait with you?" Selina asked as Seon-Jae went to get his car out of the parking spot.
I shook my head, smiling. "No, go ahead. Don't want you guys to be late. I'll be fine."
Aera nudged her, winking at me. "Alright, alright. But we'll expect details later!"
Nabi rolled her eyes but gave me a quick hug. "Have fun, Hana," she whispered with a grin. "Hopefully Mister Fate guy doesn't keep you waiting too long."
With that, they piled into Seon-Jae's car, and I waved as they drove off, leaving me outside the house's gate.
I watched them drive off, and did not realise when Sun-bin appeared beside me, hands tucked into his pockets as he glanced down the street. "Didn't leave with the rest of the group?" he asked, an easy smile playing on his lips.
"Oh," I replied, a little caught off guard. "No, I actually have a friend coming to pick me up soon."
"Lucky friend," he said with a soft chuckle. "My mom's subtle, isn't she?" He scratched his neck, looking a little embarrassed but mostly amused. "Sorry about that."
"Oh, it's alright!" I laughed, trying to play it off. "She's really sweet. It's nice to feel so welcomed. Plus, we all had a bit to drink, so no harm done."
Sun-bin gave a slow nod, studying me intently. "Well, if you're ever interested in the 'suggestion' she was hinting at..." he paused, his voice dipping into a more confident tone, "I'd be more than happy to give it a shot."
The statement caught me completely off guard, and my mind went blank as he took a small step closer, his hand brushing against my arm, an innocent touch that felt both casual and undeniably intentional. Was this the result of some liquid courage, or was he being genuine? I felt myself tense, unsure of how to respond, when the sudden slam of a car door jolted us both back to reality.
"Hey, Hana!" Jungkook's familiar voice rang out, a little louder and sharper than usual.
I turned, relief washing over me as I saw Jungkook walking toward us. "Oh, Jungkook, you're here!" I called out, maybe a bit too eagerly. The look on his face was serious, almost possessive, and I suddenly felt the tension rise another notch.
Sun-bin's hand dropped away from my arm as Jungkook approached, and the two of them locked eyes in a way that made the air between them feel... charged. I could almost feel the unspoken challenge radiating between them, and I cleared my throat, thinking introductions might break the tension.
"Uh, Jungkook, this is Sun-bin. Sun-bin, this is Jungkook," I said, glancing between them.
They shook hands, each holding the other's gaze a moment longer than necessary. Jungkook's grip looked firm, and Sun-bin didn't budge. Sun-bin's gaze shifted down to Jungkook's hand, his eyes lingering on the tattoos on his hand and the piercings on his face before a faint smirk tugged at his lips. A conservative at heart, he clearly wasn't a big fan of such self-expression.
"Well," Sun-bin said, his voice smooth with a slightly amused edge, "an... interesting choice for a friend, Hana." He shot Jungkook a look, his tone light but loaded with implication.
Jungkook's jaw tightened, but he returned Sun-bin's look with an easy, confident smile.
I could feel the tension brewing, and it was the kind that didn't feel like it would diffuse anytime soon. Clearing my throat, I turned to Sun-bin with a polite smile, hoping to wrap this up.
"Thanks again for lunch, Sun-bin. Please tell your mom I said thank you again for having us over," I said, adding, "but Jungkook and I really should get going."
Sun-bin didn't seem fazed, his eyes still lingering on me as he smiled. "Of course. But, Hana," he said, leaning just close enough for his voice to dip lower, "don't forget what I said. Once you're done with your... friend here, think about my suggestion. You know where to find me."
I swallowed, feeling Jungkook's gaze on us as Sun-bin held my gaze a moment longer, his expression both playful and completely serious. Then, with a slight nod toward Jungkook, he stepped back and gave me a final smile before heading toward the house.
As soon as Sun-bin was out of earshot, I could sense Jungkook's annoyance radiating off him. He frowned, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he watched Sun-bin retreat. "So, Sun-bin, huh? What was that all about?" he asked, his voice low and slightly edged.
I took a breath, trying to gather my thoughts. "I'm sorry; that was so weird and unexpected. He caught me off guard with how forward he was. His mom was hinting at us dating over lunch, but I never thought he would actually make a move."
Jungkook raised an eyebrow, scepticism lining his features. "So, do you want him to make a move?" His tone was light, but I could sense an underlying seriousness in his question.
"Oh god, no!" I replied, shaking my head firmly. "Sun-bin and I couldn't be more wrong for each other."
His expression softened a fraction as he processed my words, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Okay, if you say so." He paused, then added, "Just seemed like he was trying pretty hard to impress you."
I shrugged, forcing a smile. "Maybe he was, but I'm not interested. Honestly, I didn't even think he'd do something like that."
Jungkook nodded, a hint of relief now in his eyes. "Good to know." He glanced toward the car, shifting the subject. "Ready to go see Bam?"
"Definitely," I replied, feeling a wave of excitement wash over me at the thought of reuniting with the puppy.
As we walked back to the car, I couldn't resist the urge to tease him a bit. "You know, for someone labelled as an international heartbreaker, you sure were acting a little defensive back there."
Jungkook rolled his eyes, brushing off my comment as he opened the car door for me. "I wasn't being defensive. Just... observant," he shot back, his voice low, attempting to sound casual, but the slight tightening of his jaw revealed irritation simmering beneath the surface.
"Uh-huh, sure. Observant," I said, suppressing a grin as I slid into the passenger seat. "Didn't strike me as the jealous type, Kook."
"Please," he scoffed, pretending to adjust his seatbelt while pointedly avoiding my gaze. "It's just annoying when guys don't know when to back off."
"Right..." I teased, letting my voice drop to a playful whisper. The atmosphere shifted as he finally turned to me, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "So I'm Kook now, huh?"
The nickname had slipped out accidentally, but after the whole 'Ian' incident, it felt more intimate. I had even changed his contact name on my phone. Jungkook was too formal, but Kook was softer, warmer.
"Well, unless you want me to call you Ian?" I shot back, giving him an innocent questioning look, my heart racing as I met his gaze, the playful challenge hanging in the air.
"Nah, Kook is fine. Should've introduced me to Sun-bin like that, too," he replied, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
"Ha, funny. Although I kind of regret giving him your full name. Sun-bin isn't the type to keep up with celebrities, so I feel a bit at ease—he probably has no idea who you are."
"I don't mind if he knows. Maybe that'll teach him for being all cocky."
"Sorry about that," I said, glancing down at my hands resting on my lap, suddenly self-conscious. "Not sure if it makes a difference, but I think your tattoos and piercings really suit you. Don't mind him, he's just a bit conservative." My gaze lingered on his lip piercing, and I felt my cheeks warm as the words slipped out.
"Thanks, but I'm sure Sun-bin's opinion doesn't matter to me." Jungkook chuckled, the tension between us easing a bit, yet there was an intensity in his gaze that made my pulse quicken. He shifted into gear and pulled out onto the street, a grin breaking through as he added, "Let's go surprise Bam."
"Yeah, let's go!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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The following day was a man-free zone. Well, sort of. Most of Friday was spent with Selina and her friend group at Lotte World. We dressed up in Korean high school uniforms and made it our mission to go on every ride in the park at least once. Although there were no planned or unexpected encounters with any other guys, I did exchange a few texts with both Joon and Ian.
Joon followed up with a message after the gallery visit, along with the address for the upcoming listening party. Meanwhile, Ian sent me a picture of him dropping Bam off at a daycare for the weekend, explaining that he had work and a friend's event to attend.
Saturday evening arrived faster than expected, and before we knew it, Selina and I were being escorted into a fancy residential neighbourhood where the party was set to take place. I had checked the address on the map beforehand, and it turned out to be a newly built apartment building, with the event happening on the top floor. We arrived at the entrance 15 minutes before the estimated start time. I was aiming to arrive within a five-minute window, but our taxi driver knew all the shortcuts and got us there in no time.
Joon had mentioned this was a party hosted by his company to celebrate an album release set for next month. He hadn't specified a dress code, but we weren't about to show up in joggers and hoodies. Since it was November and temperatures dipped in the evenings, Selina and I opted for warmer, woollen outfits. I wore a fitted black maxi dress with a semi-turtle neckline and sleeveless cut, paired with leather boots and a jacket. Selina chose a long skirt, a purple button-up shirt, and a puffer jacket.
At the gate, a security guard called his colleague to escort us to the main entrance once I gave our names. In the elevator, he instructed us to ring the bell when we reached the top floor, where someone would let us in. Then he returned to his post.
"Oh my god, Hana, this place looks so expensive! Are you sure we're in the right spot?" Selina asked, wide-eyed.
"We have to be; otherwise, they wouldn't have let us this far," I reassured her with a smile.
"Why didn't you tell me Dimples was so well-off? I might just lean more toward him than Mr. Fate Guy now."
"Yaah, don't be mean! I didn't realise his work was on this level either—it just never came up until now. Guess we'll find out more tonight."
The elevator doors slid open to reveal a quiet hallway with a single door at the end. We approached and rang the bell. A moment later, a familiar voice came from the other side.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Joon! It's me, Hana. I'm here with my sister."
"One sec; I'll be right there."
A few moments later, the door opened, and Joon's familiar face lit up. His gaze lingered on me just a bit longer than usual before he turned to Selina. "You must be..."
"Selina," she said, stepping forward with a knowing look my way. "Nice to finally meet you."
"Ya, Joon, eodi gass-eo..."where did you go..." Another voice joined us, and a man appeared beside Joon, eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of Selina and me. With a teasing grin, he glanced between us and Joon, clearly putting two and two together.
"Ah, you must be the new friend Joon's been mentioning—the one who calls him Dimples," he chuckled. "I'm Lee Hwan-seok, but feel free to call me Hwan since nicknames seem to be a thing now," he said, elbowing Joon playfully.
Joon's cheeks turned a shade of pink as he muttered, "Hwan-hyung, not now..."
Hwan raised his hands in surrender, laughing. "Just messing with you, Joon! But you two," he looked at me with a twinkle in his eye, "can always ask me anything about our dear Joon here. In fact," he said, glancing back at the lively room behind him, "I was about to grab some drinks. Do you ladies want anything in particular?"
"Anything's fine for now," I replied, and with a wink, Hwan disappeared into the crowd.
Once he was gone, Joon scratched the back of his neck, clearly flustered. "That's Hwan after a couple of beers," he said with a sheepish smile. "But, um, come on in! And seriously, feel free to ask me anything while he's... elsewhere."
We walked toward the centre of the room, where a plush U-shaped beige couch served as a gathering spot. Only a handful of people were there, and soft, ambient music played in the background. Despite the steady trickle of guests filling the room, it still felt intimate for now. Dimples—well, Joon—guided us over to the people already lounging on the couch: two guys and a redhead girl cozied up next to one of them.
"Everyone, this is Hana and her sister, Selina. They're probably new faces for most of you, so I thought I'd introduce them—though Hwan's already, well, sort of ruined his part," Joon chuckled, giving Hwan an amused look.
The guy sitting beside the redhead spoke up first, introducing himself and the girl as his girlfriend. The other guy followed suit. I did my best to remember their names, nodding and smiling politely. "Nice to meet you all."
Selina tilted her head, scrutinising the second guy. "Wait, this might sound random, but... did you say your last name was Ryu? I have a friend with that surname named Seon-Jae, and he told me his cousin might be here when I mentioned I'd be coming tonight."
"Oh! You must be Seon-Jae's friend! Yeah, we're related!" He grinned as he recognized the connection.
From that moment, Selina and her friend's cousin hit it off, launching into a lively conversation about Seon-Jae and his recent antics. Not long after, Joon excused himself to greet other guests, leaving me with Selina and our new acquaintances.
The guy with the redhead noticed me watching Joon walk away, and he leaned over with a grin. "So, Hana, how did you meet Joon? I don't think he's ever mentioned you."
His girlfriend interjected with a laugh. "Does it matter? I'm just glad to have more girls in the group—I was starting to feel like the odd one out!"
I couldn't help but smile. "Well, actually, I haven't known Joon all that long. To be honest, when we first met a few days ago he saved my life twice—literally. Not the most conventional way to meet, I suppose."
"Maybe we should ask Joon for his version when he gets back, seeing that you girls are here tonight it must have left quite the impression" the guy teased, earning a playful nudge from his girlfriend.
As the original three started chatting among themselves, I leaned over to Selina. "I'm just going to find the bathroom; I'll be right back."
"Need company?" Selina asked, but I shook my head, urging her to stay and continue chatting with Seon-Jae's cousin. She nodded, squeezing my hand with a reassuring smile. "Text me if you need anything."
I left the group and made my way through the crowded room, heading for what seemed to be a hallway leading to other parts of the house. By now, more guests had arrived, and Joon was still nowhere in sight, busy welcoming everyone. I gently manoeuvred through clusters of people, offering polite apologies as I accidentally bumped shoulders here and there. Just as I was nearing the hallway, a slightly tipsy guest stumbled into me, shoved by his friend in what seemed like a playful push.
Thrown off balance, I staggered forward and ended up colliding with someone else.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, someone pushed me—" I began, looking up to see who I'd bumped into. My eyes widened as they met a face I knew well. Ian.
His eyes mirrored my surprise, widening as he blinked a few times in disbelief. "Hana...?"
I stared, caught between shock and confusion. "What...what are you doing here?"
"I... I'm here for Joon. Wait, is this the party you told me about, did he invite you?" He seemed just as bewildered as I was.
"Joon-hyung invited you here?" he repeated, almost in disbelief, but before I could answer, a voice called out from behind him.
"Jungkook-ah! Geogi iss-eoyo! There you are!" A guy with brown hair jogged over, clapping him on the shoulder. Another shorter, blond guy followed close behind.
"Where'd you go? We looked away for one second, and you vanished!" The brown-haired guy was too focused on Ian to notice me standing there.
Wait—did he just call him...Jungkook?
Ian—no, Jungkook I suppose —stood frozen, his face going pale as he brought a hand to his forehead, seemingly processing his cover being blown. His friends finally noticed me, and the blond one turned to me with a curious look.
"Wait, who are you?" he asked.
"Hi, I'm Hana," I stammered, feeling the sudden intensity of their attention. "I was, uh, just on my way to the restroom," I added quickly before making a swift exit down the hall.
~~ Ian's POV ~~
"Jungkook-ah, what's wrong? Did she say anything weird?" Taehyung asked, looking genuinely confused.
"No, you idiots—that was the girl I've been telling you about! And, Tae, I feel you might have literally exposed me by calling me by my real name instead of 'Ian.' She must think I've been lying this whole time messing with her, and that's why she ran off!"
Taehyung's eyes widened. "Wait, she's the girl you call Bam's previous owner? Jungkook-ah, I didn't know! I mean, how could we, right, Jimin?"
"To be fair," Jimin added, "you never actually showed us her photo, even when we asked. How was Tae supposed to know who she was?"
Jungkook sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his slip-up. "True...but now I have to convince her that I haven't been lying about everything and just wanted to be me. She probably won't even want to see me once it's all figured out."
"No, we'll fix this," Taehyung declared, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "But, wait—what was she even doing here?"
"You didn't invite her, did you?" Jimin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No, I was shocked to see her too!" Jungkook replied. "Apparently, she knows Namjoon-hyung. He invited her, and they seemed close, she even called him Joon."
"That's weird," Jimin murmured. "Why wouldn't Joon-hyung mention her to us?"
Jungkook looked between his friends, determination settling in. "Alright, the moment I see her again, I'm going to try to explain everything. And if either of you spot her first, let me know, so I don't mess this up further."
"Don't worry," Taehyung said, grinning as he pulled out his phone. "We'll find her, and I'll back up any story you need. If she's hiding, she'll eventually come out—parties aren't exactly great hiding spots."
Jungkook nodded, anxiety and anticipation swirling inside him. He just hoped he wasn't overthinking and had lost her trust completely.
~~ Hana's POV ~~
I took a shaky breath, trying to steady my racing heart as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Ian was here—but how could that be? And his friends had called him by a different name. Jungkook. It sounded strangely familiar. I had to clear this up, so I pulled out my phone, opened the browser, and typed "Jungkook Korea." Within moments, a flood of images loaded on the screen. I scrolled down and froze. There was Ian—or rather, Jungkook—staring back at me, his face unmistakable. The same playful grin I'd come to know, the same dog, Bam, by his side. But in these photos, he was surrounded by fans, featured on magazine covers, performing in music videos.
Ian was Jungkook of BTS—one of the biggest stars in the world. It felt surreal, almost laughable, but I couldn't ignore what I was seeing. Then, in some photos with his bandmates, I saw something else I couldn't mistake. I spotted Joon's face, and nearly dropped my phone. Dimples was Namjoon, the leader of BTS. The realisation hit me like a wave, and for a moment, I struggled to breathe. These new friends I'd made were both international superstars.
I switched between tabs, staring at the images. They felt oddly distant, yet the finality of it was undeniable, each picture confirming what I'd seen tonight. All the pieces clicked into place: their vague mentions of work in music, the ever-present hats, the guarded aura I'd sensed but brushed off.
"How could I have missed this?" It was all so obvious now, and I felt foolish for not realising sooner. I exhaled and quickly typed a message to my sister, my fingers almost shaking as I hit send.
Hana: "SELINA! Come to the bathroom ASAP. Second door to the right in the hallway!"
I waited, half-hoping this would all dissolve into some strange dream. Her reply came almost immediately.
Selina: "What happened?? I'm on my way."
A minute later, there was a knock at the door.
"Selina? Is that you?" I whispered, feeling on the edge of panic.
"Yeah, open up," she replied softly, her voice instantly grounding me.
I unlocked the door, and she slipped inside, eyes scanning my face. "Hana, what's going on? Why are you hiding in here? Did something—"
"No," I interrupted, "it's worse. Ian is here."
Selina blinked, processing. "Ian? Wait..., like Mr. Fate Guy Ian? What's he doing here?"
"Not just that." I held up my phone, unable to keep the truth from her. "This is Ian."
She looked at the screen, her confusion deepening. "Wait... This is a picture of Jungkook from BTS..."
"Exactly," I whispered, almost laughing at the absurdity. "And look—this is Dimples." I quickly pulled up Namjoon's picture. "That's Joon. Namjoon. They're both in BTS."
Selina's eyes widened in shock. "What the actual—Hana! You've been hanging out with them this whole time, and only now you realise?!"
"Hey, you met Namjoon too, and you didn't realise either!" I shot back, desperate to share the blame.
"Yeah, but it's dark out there," she said, still processing. "And you're the one who went on a date with him at that gallery!"
"That was not a date!" I protested, feeling my face heat. "And that's not the point. What do we do now?"
"Do they know that you know?" Selina asked, eyes still glued to the phone.
"I don't think so," I replied, barely able to believe the situation myself. "They never actually said anything. They'd both mentioned working in music, and I thought maybe they were producers or in management—anything but this!"
Selina let out a low whistle. "So, let me get this straight. You've been hanging out with two members of the biggest boy band in the world, and you only put it together tonight?"
"Pretty much," I muttered, feeling a mix of embarrassment and dread. "It didn't hit me until Taehyung called Jungkook's name, and then Jimin was there too. Honestly, all seven of them could be here for all I know."
Selina's eyes gleamed with excitement. "So that's why Dimples said it was a company party. It must be a listening party for their new album or something. Do you know how many people would kill to be here?"
I nodded slowly, the realisation settling over me. "Should we... leave?"
Selina reached over and smacked my arm. "Absolutely not! We have the chance of a lifetime to hang out with them, Hana. Why would we leave?"
"Because I feel like an idiot who doesn't know the world's most famous faces," I admitted, biting my lip. "How did I not recognize them?"
"You've been living under a rock until now," she teased. "Look, let's not overthink it. You didn't know who they were—big deal. They clearly liked spending time with you, for you."
I sighed, feeling a bit steadier. "Alright, fine. We'll go back out there, and I'll pretend the last fifteen minutes never happened."
"That's the spirit," she said, squeezing my hand. "And hey, if they bring it up, we'll deal with it. For now, let's just enjoy ourselves."
I smiled, her confidence helping me shake off some of the tension. With one last deep breath, we stepped out of the bathroom together, heading back toward the main room.
~~ Jungkook's POV ~~
"Dude, I see her! She's right there, sitting on the couch!" Tae's shout was loud, nearly lost in the chatter of the room. The party was already packed; voices echoed around us, making it hard to catch everything clearly.
"Alright, you two stay here. I— I need to talk to her. I can't let her leave thinking... whatever she might be thinking," I said, my nerves kicking in.
Jimin stepped in front of me, arms crossed. "Nope. Tae already called it—we're all going, and we're all fixing whatever you might've messed up."
"Fine, but please, promise me not to mention anything about us being idols or even BTS."
Tae gave me a long, doubtful look. "You really think she doesn't know who you are?"
"I don't think so... I mean, she's never mentioned anything about it."
Jimin gave me a gentle push toward the couch. "Alright then, after you."
~~ Hana's POV ~~
Hwan and Seon-Jae's cousin, had just left the couch to handle some "company business" as they phrased it, leaving Selina and I alone.
"Selina, I think we're in the clear. Should we just make a quick exit?" I whispered.
She gave me a sceptical look. "Are you sure? I thought we decided to stay and act like nothing happened."
I was about to reply when I froze. Walking toward us, weaving through the crowd, were Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin. Selina nudged my arm with her elbow, her face lighting up. "Looks like we're about to have company. Are you sure we should leave now?"
Before I could respond, Taehyung smiled warmly and greeted us.
"Hi! You must be the girl Ian—uh, Jungkook—was talking to earlier." He extended his hand, and I shook it, feeling the surrealness of the moment but finding comfort in his friendly demeanour. Taehyung then sat down on my right, leaving a space between us that Jungkook quickly filled. Jimin sat beside Selina, who kept her cool despite everything she knew.
"Hi, Hana," Jungkook began, his voice low. "Sorry for earlier; our conversation got a bit... cut off." He glanced around, then continued, "These are my friends, Taehyung and Jimin."
"Nice to meet you," both of them said with easy smiles.
I nodded, and Selina followed, waving at them. "And this is my sister, Selina."
"Hi," she replied, half-smiling, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
Taehyung noticed the awkwardness lingering over the "Ian" name and shot Jungkook a quick glance before turning to me with an easy smile.
"Oh, about the whole 'Ian' name, that's just Jungkook's English name. Given your guys' different backgrounds and your confusion when I called him Jungkook earlier, he must have introduced himself that way to keep things easier? You can also call me Tae, if it's easier"
Jungkook nodded, looking a bit sheepish. "Yeah, I, uh, didn't want to make things confusing. Thought 'Ian' would just be simpler, you know?"
"Yeah makes sense," I nodded with a small smile. I guess you don't go introducing yourself as Jungkook of BTS to every random stranger your dog tackles over.
Just then, the previous couch occupants returned and Tae struck up a conversation with them, leaving Jungkook and me a bit of space. The room had quieted, and I could hear Selina and Jimin talking next to me.
"So, what brings you to Korea?" he asked her.
"I'm doing a study exchange later this year and wanted to get a feel for the place. Plus, I've always loved the culture," she replied, sounding totally at ease.
Meanwhile, Jungkook leaned closer to me, his voice quieter. "I didn't expect us to end up at the same party when you mentioned going to one earlier, I was surprised." He hesitated, then added, "How do you know Joon-hyung?"
He was keeping up his story, not bringing up his real identity. I decided to play along. "Funny enough, a few days before I met you and Bam, he basically saved me when I got lost. We exchanged contacts, and now here I am." I smiled. "How about you? How do you know him?"
He chuckled, giving a nonchalant shrug. "Oh, we work for the same company. He's always been like a big brother to me."
That response was just what I expected. Still, I teased him. "Wow, so he's your role model, huh?"
"Yeah, something like that," he replied, glancing away almost shyly.
My phone screen suddenly lit up, and I saw a message from my brother, Darian. Selina and I had both set his photo as our lock screen; he was back home working and couldn't join us in Korea, so we made sure to stay connected. I missed him, and I could see Selina did too.
Jungkook glanced down, noticing the photo on my screen, and a puzzled look crossed his face, as if he wanted to ask something. Before he could, a cheer erupted from the crowd. Just then, Joon stepped onto a small stage in the corner of the room, and the entire space fell silent. He smiled, looking out over the crowd, and cleared his throat.
"Thank you all for being here tonight," he began. "It means a lot to have everyone's support for my first solo album - Indigo. This album is something I've been working on for a long time, and I can't wait for you all to hear it."
Applause broke out, and Jungkook glanced at me, his eyes eager and a little nervous. As the first track began to play, the atmosphere shifted; everyone leaned in, nodding along, savouring each beat.
"First time hearing it?" Jungkook asked, leaning close so I could hear.
"Yeah," I whispered, genuinely taken with the music. "It's amazing."
He smiled, his eyes softening, clearly proud of his friend. And for a moment, it was just us, listening to music, despite the surreal backdrop of fame and secrets.
The people standing behind the couch we were sitting on started to whisper. As the voices around us grew louder, I caught a few of the whispers: "Suga, J-Hope, and Jin are also here, look they are coming towards us! The whole of BTS is here!"
I froze for a second and without thinking, I stood up abruptly. "I think I might need something to drink," I said, a little too quickly. "If you'll excuse me for a moment..."
Jungkook looked like he wanted to say something, but I barely heard him as I walked away. To my relief, Selina, who'd been talking to Jimin, excused herself and joined me, sensing something was up.
"Hana, what's wrong?" she asked as we reached the kitchen.
"Everyone is here. I mean, the entire band showed up, and Jungkook is still going along with this 'Ian' thing," I whispered, frustration creeping into my voice. "I thought I could manage pretending, but I didn't count on meeting all the other members. Jungkook's probably going to introduce us, and I just... I can't keep acting like I don't know who they are. We would look like idiots, having the truth slapped in front of our faces and refusing to believe it. I don't think us being here is normal..."
Selina placed a calming hand on my shoulder. "I get it. If you really want to leave, I'll back you up."
Just then, Joon entered the kitchen, his face lighting up with his dimples in full display when he saw me. "Hey, Hana! I've been trying to get back to you all night. Sorry tonight is..."
I couldn't hold it in anymore. "For what? To finally tell me the truth—that you're Kim Namjoon, RM of BTS?"
Namjoon froze, his eyes wide. "I..." he began, but Selina, sensing the tension, quietly excused herself from the kitchen.
~~ Jungkook's POV ~~
"You should probably go check on her," Jimin suggested as he shifted into Hana's spot on the couch. "I don't think Selina followed Hana just to get drinks."
"You're probably right." I stood and made my way toward the kitchen. As I got close, Selina nearly bumped into me.
"Hey, is Hana okay? Is she in there?"
"Yes, but..." she hesitated, looking uncertain.
Before she could finish, I slipped past her and into the kitchen, where Hana was locked in a tense stare with Namjoon.
Namjoon spoke first, his tone low and steady. "How... How long have you known I was RM?"
The colour drained from my face. If Hana knew about Namjoon, then surely she knew about me too.
~~ Hana's POV ~~
"It didn't hit me until tonight, when the rest of the band showed up," I admitted, frustration lacing my voice. "Looking back, there were hints. Like at the museum the other day—there was no one else there, which seemed weird, but I brushed it off. I can't believe I didn't see it sooner... meeting not just any idols, but BTS? And yet, neither of you thought to just... tell me?"
At that moment, I realised we weren't alone. Jungkook was standing just inside the doorway, his expression conflicted.
"Yeah, Ian—or should I say, Jungkook? Did you and Namjoon plan this whole thing to make a fool out of me?"
"No!" they both replied in unison, quickly denying it.
Joon spoke up, his voice gentle. "Hana, I swear, we didn't plan anything like that. People like us... it's hard for us to trust. We're careful, maybe even paranoid. Every time I've tried to make a connection, people wanted something from me, heck even exploited me in the media. But you... you didn't. You seemed genuine, and I wanted to give this a chance, even if I hesitated. It was never about lying to you or making a fool out of you. I just wanted to keep things normal for as long as possible."
Just then, Hwan-seok burst into the kitchen with a bright smile. "Namjoon-ah, they're about to play the second side of the album! Everyone's waiting on you, man."
I glanced at Joon, seeing the conflict in his eyes. As much as I wanted him to stay and continue this conversation, I couldn't hold him back from his own celebration.
He gave me a final, earnest look. "I have to go... but don't leave, please. Let's talk more after." With that, he left, leaving Jungkook and me alone in the silence.
Jungkook was the first to break the silence. "Hana... I don't know exactly what happened between you and Namjoon-hyung, but I understand where he's coming from. It's hard for us to create new friendships, to trust someone with who we really are." He paused, his gaze softening. "That's why I introduced myself as Ian. I wanted to experience it—being unknown, being genuine with someone new. When I saw how Bam acted around you, like you were his past owner or something, I didn't want to risk scaring you away by revealing my identity. I wanted to keep that connection pure."
By the time he finished, I'd cooled down, absorbing every word. I tried to put myself in his shoes. Being a celebrity isn't for the faint-hearted, and knowing that both of them genuinely enjoyed my company—without me knowing who they really were—felt comforting. They could see that I didn't care about their fame, only about who they were underneath. Still, I knew getting past all the orchestration Namjoon had done would be a bit harder. I'd spent more alone time with him, shared more with him than I had with Jungkook. But any form of forgiveness had to start somewhere, and if it started with Jungkook, then that was something.
"I understand where you're coming from," I said softly. "Tonight just... came at me fast. I didn't have time to process it all, and I lashed out. If you're wondering whether I'll forgive you for withholding the truth... well, you'll have to wait and see. Maybe on our next walk with Bam, or even now we can just start fresh."
I extended my hand toward Jungkook. His eyes flickered between my hand and my face, his expression shifting to one of surprise, like he couldn't quite believe what was happening. The last of my anger faded as I watched him—he looked almost like Bam, his big, uncertain eyes wide and hopeful.
Putting him out of his misery, I smiled. "Hi, my name's Hana. Nice to meet you. And you are?"
A small smile spread across his face, a hint of a dimple forming as he took my hand gently, as if afraid I might break.
"Jungkook".
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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