#[ ☕ ] — coffee with strangers!
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"a stupid person who sent a text vote literally deserves to be bombed and have their family die"
-you, the most fucking retarded person in the world. blow your fucking brains out.
Lmaoooo, get mad child killer. Why don't you send the same ask again off anon?
Free Palestine 🍉
#[ ☕ ] — coffee with strangers!#guys my first death threat and hate comment!!!! omg#AND w a slur??#the big three in one ask#someone voted for Israel and now you maaaad#uh oh#free palestine#free gaza#🍉🍉🍉#eurovision song contest#eurovision 2024#Eurovision#fuck israel
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Milk🥛& Coffee☕
♣♪♪♪♪♥♪♪♪♥♪♪♪♪♪♦
CUMMING WITH STRANGERS♦️
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The Missing Track - Min Yoongi One-Shot
Pairing: !Idol Yoongi x ! producer f. reader
Genre: explicit romance (smut) !! MINORS DNI !! 🔞
Word count: ~ 30k
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?
!! Warnings !!: vaginal sex, protected sex, oral sex, slow burn, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, jealousy
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 💕.
Love the story? ☕ Support me on Ko-fi! 💕
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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.
#bts imagine#bts one shot#bts fic#bts#bts au#bts drabble#bts fanfction#bts ff#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts fic rec#bts fic recs#bts fluff#bts smut#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts masterlist#bts suga#bts yoongi#yoongi drabble#min yoongi#yoongi#min yoongi x reader#min yoongi drabble#bangtan smut#bantangboys#bangtan seonyandan#bangtan#btswritingcafe#bts fanfics
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Bucky Barnes — Dishwasher
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x (she/her) wife!Reader Word Count : 1.5k Warning : None? Synopsis : Bucky knew that he was a man out of time, but never would he expect that this world no longer accepts home appliances as presents. Notes : If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕
Bucky’s palms were starting to sweat. He knows when she’ll return home, down to its minutes, but he still couldn’t shake the jitters that were brewing up his spine. He has more than enough window to finish his quest, perhaps even sparing himself a good other hour to clean up any possible mess and wipe the apartment clean before she could smell anything amiss, but with the ticking of the clock taunting on him, agitation was starting to pool a little thicker in his gut.
He taps on his watch, wondering where the technicians that were supposed to be here half an hour ago might be at. The drive from the store to their apartment shouldn’t be that complicated. He’s written in bold font the address and their unit number. There should be no issue for them to find it.
He was just about to ring the store when the doorbell rang.
“Mr. Barnes?” one of the technicians asked, looking at the clipboard in his hand “You ordered a dishwasher, Sir?”
“Yes,” Bucky answers with a slightly annoyed grunt “I’ve been expecting you.”
The technician shows a corporate disinterested smile, walking in the apartment as his partner wheeled the boxed item.
“Where do you want us to install it, Sir?”
“Right here,” Bucky says as he pulls the cabinet door that hid their old dishwasher “Could you bring the old one with you? I’d rather not leave any trace of mischief for my wife to find.”
“Of course,” the technician says as he begins to unbox the appliance “Wait, you didn’t make this your wife’s Christmas present, right?”
Bucky frowns, shaking his head with his brows knitted, “No, why?”
“Cause the guy at the last house did and that was a bad scene, man,” the other guy finally speaks up.
“Bad scene, why?” Bucky’s arms were folded to his chest now “They didn’t like the dishwasher?”
“No,” the first guy snorted with his laugh “They didn’t like it, alright.”
“The wife was insulted. Said home appliances don’t count as a gift,” the second guy further explained as he begins to take out the tools to install the item “She said it’s not fair that she always gets ‘gifts’ that are just things that their household needs to function while he gets all the niche personalised presents.”
“Not going to lie, I felt bad for the lady,” first guy chimed in “It was a bloodbath there, man. She was yelling and crying by the time we finished installing the dishwasher. Poor woman, I hope the husband found her something better for Christmas.”
Bucky could only nod in agreement. The crease on his forehead only gets deeper as the technicians continue their story. A new sense of guilt and anxiety brewed in his stomach. Perhaps the dishwasher wasn’t a great idea, afterall.
At first, he thought giving out a lie to a random technician about whether or not the item was his Christmas gift for her wife would never bring any harm. These men are just strangers that need not know any of his business, anyway. But now that they’ve told the story of their last customer, Bucky wonders if he should’ve just answered truthfully and see if these men have any better ideas for a replacement gift.
In his defence, the dishwasher was something she said was listed in her wishlist. He got her the very one she pointed at when they went to the electronic store the other day, down to the very colour that she said was her favourite. He thought that this would be the grand gift to reveal for her, the grandiose early Christmas present that would get her jumping and squealing in excitement, but having the story sinking into his brain now, such fantasy might not be the reality he’ll witness.
Bucky knew that he was a man out of time. That the world has progressed in ways that his mind couldn’t catch up still, but never would he expect that this world no longer accepts home appliances as presents. Perhaps he needs to whip out that notebook of his again and relearn the rules of gift giving in the twenty-first century.
—-
“Doll,” Bucky starts while his fingers cut through the meat of his dinner, trying his best to act as nonchalant as he could “I have a proposal to offer.”
She nods, chewing her food, “I’m listening.”
“Since you’re pretty busy with work and I have the whole month off from missions, why don’t I take the kitchen duty? I’ll cook our meals, make our coffee, wash the dishes, everything that’s involved in the kitchen, I’ll take care of it.”
Her head darts up to face him, an impressed smile tugs on the corner of her lips, “Okay..? Why?”
“Just wanted to take some of the burden off your shoulders,” Bucky lies through his teeth, shrugging “I’ve seen just how tired you’ve been lately. It’s the least I could do.”
“You’re very sweet,” she replies as she places a small kiss to his forearm “I’ll take the laundry duty, then.”
Bucky smiles, nodding in agreement.
His brain has been wiring since the technicians left their apartment. He wonders what he could get for her that would match the brilliance of the dishwasher that he thought would have been. He tries to squeeze the essence of his memory, trying to find anything that she might have mentioned that he could get for her, but everything she’s ever told, he’s bought, and he still wasn’t sure if there would be anything bigger than the dishwasher.
Now priding himself as a good husband, how could he not know what his wife wants most?
—-
In his defence, a twenty minutes longer sleep was something he earned for all the hard work he’s done in the kitchen for the past week. Bucky has made every meal, every coffee and every snack that he’s promised to make. He’s taken out the trash without being asked and has done all the dishes before the grease could even set on their plate. Now he might be a supersoldier, alright, but waking up early to brew some coffee and make breakfast was still something he’s not accustomed to and letting his eyes rest a little bit longer feels like a reward he’s very well earned.
So now he finds himself buried under the many layers of their blankets. The fluffiness of their pillows and how the scent of her shampoo still lingers on them made him drown in the pool of comfortness. He snuggles tighter to the pillows, burying his face on the softness of its fabric, before slumber was abruptly yanked off of his feet.
“Good morning,” she says after jumping right on top of him, now sitting on his stomach with a teeth-rotting grin “I love you.”
“I love you too, Sweetheart,” Bucky grunts, smiling through the regret of his lost doze “You’re up early.”
“No, I woke up on time. You’re just taking a little more nap than usual,” she answers as showers his jaw with kisses “When were you going to tell me?”
His eyebrows knit, trying to understand her words with a brain that’s still partially asleep, “Tell you what?”
“That you got me the dishwasher.”
Bucky’s eyes shot wide. His blue fraught-filled eyes were clashing against her fevered ones. He studies her face, trying to find any trace of disappointment or anger, but the only things he could find were the lovely creases around her eyes and the big grin that he thought must’ve ache her cheeks after a while.
He sits up, leaning against the bed frame as he tries to assess his situation better. Wrath was devoid from her face. She was jumping a little, evidently excited upon unravelling his confidence. Something that he wasn’t sure how to react to now.
“You’re not mad?” he asks instead.
“Why would I be mad? You got me the dishwasher!” she exclaims, placing another kiss to his lips “I was planning to get it next week after my Christmas bonus is in, but here you are playing Santa. You’re quite literally crossing wishes off my list. I love you.”
“I love you,” he answers “But— You’re sure you’re not mad?”
She sits up, studying his attentive manner with a raised brow, “Why would I be mad?”
“Because the technicians said home appliances don’t count as presents anymore,” Bucky answers, looking further lost “They said dishwashers don’t count as Christmas presents.”
“Sure, they do! Home appliances or not, a present is a present,” she argues “It’ll only be an insult if all your gifts are home appliances. That wouldn’t count as Christmas presents. But that’s not what you’re doing. You’re giving me something that I want, which so happens to be a dishwasher.”
Bucky closes his eyes, letting out a sigh, “I am so confused right now. I thought I ruined your Christmas.”
“On the contrary, you’ve just made my Christmas,” she beams, pampering his face with little kisses “I love you, thank you.”
“I love you, Doll,” with his eyes still closed, Bucky pulls her face to his chest, trying to tame her excitement a little so he could recollect the drowsiness that was slipping off his fingertips “Does this mean I can forfeit from kitchen duties, now that you’ve found the surprise?”
She looks up, resting her chin to his chest with a satisfied laughter, “Yes, baby, we can get back to our usual schedule now.”
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes scenario#bucky barnes scenarios#bucky barnes x oc
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‧𓍢ִ໋☕ ׂ 𓈒 ⋆ the boy with the thick jacket and the cute accent *₊˚🍂୧
pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader
words: 3700
summary: over time, Jace with his books by the window has become your favorite customer at the coffee shop you work at. The two of you quietly pine for each other, but when someone else tries to flirt with you, Jace’s jealousy finally gets him to make a move.
warnings: coffee shop au, meet-cute, pining, really just wholesome fluff, uncomfortable attempt at getting reader’s number (not Jace), first kiss
a/n: just something short and sweet for the cold weather outside! <3 I hope you’ll like it, let me know your thoughts!
⋆.˚🥧⋆.˚
There were many things you liked about working at the little coffee shop down the small alley overgrown with ivy.
The quiet yet busy atmosphere always made you feel welcome, surrounded all day by the smell of fresh coffee and tea, homemade cakes and biscuits and the steady stream of kind and appreciative customers who happened to stumble upon the little shop. The walls were covered with bookshelves and old-worn paperbacks stacked in them and the wooden boards creaked lovingly underneath your feet when you made your way towards guests by their tables.
There were many things that made you love the job, but none of them brought you as much joy as the curly-haired boy in his usual seat by the window, lost in his books and taking hours to finish his order.
The first time he had come in here, he had stumbled in from a sudden rain shower, his jacket dripping on the floor and his cheeks a rosy red as he stepped towards the counter, rubbing his hands together. You had turned around, rather busy in the usual stream of customers in the afternoon after uni ended, and there he was.
Dark lovely eyes, a mouth looking so kissable it made your knees weak and an angel-like face that seemed to be just as awe-struck as you were. You had stared at each other as if you were the only two people in the coffee shop, his glossy brown curls dripping rain while you still held an empty mug in your hand.
Hopelessly hit by cupid’s arrow.
“H-hi, what can I get for you?”
“Hi…”
You had to swallow down a giggle, raising your eyebrow at him. “Hi. What would you like to eat or drink?” You stood ready at the cash register, your eyes wandering to his lips as he opened and closed his mouth once again.
“Umm…yeah, I would like a…I’ll just take something hot please, to go.” The cute stranger tore his eyes away from you and fumbled with his wallet. A pretty blush crept up his neck “Whatever you recommend for me to have.”
My number then, you thought to yourself, but nodded in all seriousness as you tipped something into the screen. “The house’s special it is then, coming right up. What’s your name?”
He smiled at you then, nearly blinding you with it. “I’m Jace.”
Jace.
In your chest, little butterflies took flight.
As your colleague took over the line behind Jace, you got to work, giving some extra love into his coffee order as you drizzled some final touches of the good caramel on top and finally pressed a lid to the cup. The whole time, you could feel the boy’s eyes on you, not leaving you out of sight for once as he admired you.
Usually, you called out people’s names for their orders, but it wasn’t particularly full today and you could not deny that you had asked him out of curiosity. Jace still stood close to your side of the counter as you turned to him with a smile.
“Alright, Jace. House’s autumn special, I hope it’ll warm you up right away.” You told him sincerely and handed him the cup, your fingers brushing briefly and sending small lightning through you as he took it from you.
His eyes shifted to the name tag on your blouse before he paid up, sliding a generous tip into the little piggy bank between you. “I’m sure it’s amazing if you made it. Thank you.” He murmured your name as if he tasted every syllable for the first time in his life and as unexpected as he had come, he was gone and you wanted to melt into a puddle right behind the counter.
Ever since that fateful day, Jace had come back for more than just to-go orders. As the trees outside lost their leaves and the world was painted in red, orange and yellow, he mostly spent his free afternoons in the cozy seat by the window, his papers spread out in front of him on the table.
He was your most frequent customer and over time, you couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to his visits than just the good coffee and the occasional brownie treat he bought, especially when you sometimes caught him gazing at you and ignoring his homework.
By now, you knew what his order would be before he had even fully closed the door behind him or sometimes surprised him with a new little creation of yours in exchange for his honest opinion. (He always loved them.)
You liked the way he talked, a little flustered still but always happy to see you were there and how he always cleared his table so you wouldn’t have to, although it was your job.
You liked the way he could get lost in his books and papers for hours, biting his lip in concentration and absent-mindedly twirling one of his curls around his pointy finger as he took a sip of his warm drink.
You liked to know he was eating and drinking something you made, as if your slowly growing adoration for him could take root in his belly, filling him with warmth from the inside. He made you want to create and bake and become so much more than just his waitress for the rainy afternoons in autumn.
The nature of your timid relationship eventually began to change when he brought you flowers one time. You just had gotten out of the kitchen, a little flour still sticking to your cheek as you were greeted by a big bouquet which he held in front of his face. At your surprised gasp, he slowly lowered it and smiled at you, still blushing as he had on the day of your first meeting.
“I don’t want to hold you up, but the time I spend here is my highlight of the day and...this is for you.” He gingerly handed you the flowers over the counter and you almost walked around it and hugged him, a call from the kitchen stopping you from such impulsive desires.
But after the flowers, you both got a little braver.
You drew little hearts in the foam of his coffee orders and in return, your conversations became longer and longer when you had time in between rush hours. You sometimes recommended him books from the second-hand shelf in the corner and watched fondly when he was absorbed in the story the next day, your chest aching for something more with him outside of your working place.
But Jace seemed to be very polite, almost a little shy if the blush befalling him was any evidence every time you walked up to his table. And while you were desperately pining at this point, you were not brave enough yet to go beyond drawing little hearts on the boy’s coffee…
One afternoon, you worked quietly behind the counter when a gust of autumn wind rushed into the café and a tall blond woman and two little boys walked in. Jace was sitting by the window, nose buried in a Donna Tartt paperback – he thought you did not notice, but you could feel his eyes on you from time to time – when he suddenly perked up and waved at them.
You watched them silently, nearly spilling milk all over the counter when you didn’t notice the glass for the milkshake was already full to the brim. His mom, you saw the familiarity now, kissed his cheek before he bent down and hugged the kids as they squealed in excitement to see him.
A giddy smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you turned your back towards the shop’s floor and got to work at the coffee machine. With practiced movements, you quickly made two hot chocolates and sprinkled a little cinnamon and chocolate rasps over the creamy foam. You took a deep breath and checked your appearance in the mirror over the big sink, making sure you did not look disheveled from your shift before you made your way over to Jace’s table.
As you got closer, you asked yourself if you were not too impulsive – surely you still had time to turn around? – but just as you were about to lose your bravery, Jace spotted you and his whole face brightened up, the dazzling smile you had grown to adore easing down your nerves.
“Hello.” You smiled shyly into the round and placed the plate in your hands on the table, the two cups steaming and adorned by two bowls of fresh cookies from the counter. “I thought the two gentlemen would like some hot chocolate, maybe? Ma’am, if I can get you anything-“
“Oh, there’s no need for formalities.” She smiled at you, a curious sparkle in her eyes. “I’m Rhaenyra, Jace’s mother. Nice to meet you.”
The little boys, undeniably twins now that you got a closer look at them, eyed you over the rims of their mugs. “Is that her, Jace? The girl you talk about aaall the time?”
“Ooh yes, the pretty girl, aaaall the time…”
Jace and you both froze, his little brother’s words leaving you speechless.
He…talked about you in front of his family? All. The. Time?
Rhaenyra looked between the two of you, noticing the awkward tension in the air and quickly saying: “I’d love to have a coffee with a little milk, thank you, dear.”
Jace still looked at you with wide eyes while his brothers peacefully sipped their chocolates as if they had not just exposed their older brother’s crush right in front of her. You opened and closed your mouth, face burning as you quickly nodded and mumbled: “Coming right up.”
The rest of your shift seemed to pass in a blur, your mind circling around what you had just learned.
Was there really a possibility Jace liked you back? Even his mother had been quick to dissolve the awkward situation and after you had brought her the coffee and Jace seemed to try to catch your eye every now and then, not really concentrating on the conversation at his table.
To get rid of the nervousness coursing through your stomach, you dedicated yourself to the little tarts in front of you, delicately placing small raspberries on the soft dough and decorating the top with small swirls of cream. The end result looked like little clouds and it seemed like your hands weren’t shaking as badly anymore now.
It was starting to get dark outside and there were still twenty minutes until your shift ended. You were the last one behind the counter this evening, only the nice ladies in the kitchen remained with you and most of the customers had left already. You sneaked a look to the window where Jace still sat, alone now again after his family had left, biting his lip and fidgeting as he looked outside into the rain. Would you just move on from this as if nothing happened?
“Hey, could you get me a coffee to go?” A guy you recognized from earlier visits grinned at you, leaning against the counter and a little too much into your personal space.
You nodded politely and grabbed a clean cup from the board behind you.
“And also your number if you’re on it, babe.”
You froze, staring at the cup in your hands. You had never liked this guy, he usually was brash and loud when he came in with his friends and he never left a tip, always demanding and impatient when his order took only a second longer than usual.
You started the coffee machine and looked over your shoulder. “I would rather not, thank you.”
“Aww come on, babe, I’ve been here so often just because you’re pretty, I think I earned it.”
You clenched your fists, the coffee trickling into the cup way too slow for your liking. “There’s nothing to earn, I just work here. And I’m not your babe.”
“Getting bratty now, huh? I think you just wanna-“
“Love, are you ready to go?”
Out of nowhere, Jace had appeared beside the douche, looking between your frozen form and the guy who now raised a confused eyebrow at him. You swallowed thickly, not knowing if you heard correctly. Love?
“Who are you?” The guy asked Jace, ignoring the coffee you now placed in front of him.
“I’m her boyfriend.” Jace said tensely, his dark eyes not leaving him. A warmth rushed through your belly at those words. “Is there a problem here? I don’t like the way you talk to her.”
“Calm down, dude, I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”
Jace glared at him, his jaw set. “You don’t have to know she has a boyfriend to simply respect her. Get your coffee and go.”
Assured by Jace’s presence now, you calmly turned your attention to the guy and opened your hand. “That’s three-fifty. We’re closing now, so don’t have a seat.”
You watched with quiet satisfaction as he fumbled out a five and let it fall on the counter. You took it from him, smiling sweetly before you glimpsed into the cash register. “Sorry, we’re completely out of change. Bye.”
He grumbled to himself, throwing one last look over his shoulder before he left the café and the last bit of tension left your shoulders. Jace looked at you, scratching the back of his neck, grimacing. “I’m sorry. I knew you could handle it, but the way he talked to you made me so angry…”
You shook your head, smiling timidly. “No, thank you, really. He’s been getting on my nerves before. Maybe he won’t come back now, finally. Although it’s sad this was what it takes for him to leave me alone.”
Jace chuckled nervously. “I couldn’t think of anything else, sorry. And I also apologize for my brothers earlier. I didn’t want you to feel awkward…”
The butterflies in your stomach fluttered hopefully. “They were cute.” You said and searched his gaze. He looked at you the way he had on the very first day, awestruck and hopeful and so, so sweet. You bit your lip, adding quietly: “Did they…say the truth?”
Jace let out a shaky breath. “Yeah…” He told you hoarsely. “I…I’ve been thinking of ways to ask you out, but- I’m a hopeless case, it seems. God, I didn’t want you to find out through my toddler brothers.”
You laughed lightly, relieved to have your hopeful guess confirmed. “Well…my shift is over in about five minutes and I don’t have any plans. Do you want to get something to eat maybe?”
“I’d love that.” He smiled at you brightly and it brightened the room.
You made quick work at the counter as Jace gathered his things and the comfy looking jacket he had been wearing since the start of fall. When you were dressed in your long scarf and elegant coat, the two of you were ready to go.
It almost was weird, to walk and talk with Jace outside of the familiar environment of the café, but the two of you had no problem picking up a conversation, comfortably falling into a discussion about the books you had been reading recently and what he was currently up to at uni.
When you reached the big square of the town, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm. “Wait, where are we even going, I did not even ask.” You laughed, surprised how much time had passed already with him by your side.
Jace looked around the street, his dark eyes shimmering with the warm light the street lamp threw down at him. “Umm…there is a great pizza place nearby. They serve really good slices and also sweet mulled wine when it’s cold. We might be lucky tonight.”
“Sounds perfect.” You sighed, your stomach growling at the thought of some good pizza and followed him, barely resisting the urge to lace your fingers together.
The little booth tucked between two shops that were now closed was buzzing with life, the smell of delicious wine and fresh pizza filling the air and making your mouth water. Jace greeted the two men behind the counter and rested a careful hand on your back so you could step beside him and see what sorts they were offering tonight.
“You’re here often?” You chuckled as he nodded shyly.
“I’m not really good at cooking.” He replied. “The quattro formaggi is really, really good. So is the one with the cherry tomatoes and pesto.”
You nodded eagerly and fumbled with your bag, ready to get your wallet out, but Jace shook his head at you. “My treat, okay? You always get me such good pastries and cakes.”
“But Jace, you pay for them as well!”
“Doesn’t matter.” He grinned. “Why don’t you find us a table and I’ll get us some mulled wine and the pizza?”
Soon, Jace returned to you, two paper plates full with steaming hot pizza slices that were joined quickly by the promised mulled wine. The speakers by the booth played some easy music and over you, the sky had gotten dark and the air cool.
At your first bite, you groaned in delight and Jace cocked his eyebrow at you. “Good?”
“So good.” You agreed, eagerly having another one. “We should have this at the café! All the sugar and cinnamon are nice, but this? Thank you for opening the world of spices and vegetables for me.”
You laughed as he tried to break a cheese string between his mouth and the pizza off and the sweet wine only made you giddier to spend time with him. He asked you about your life as you ate and you told him the job at the café helped you to save for a professional training as a commis pâtisserie you wanted to start in spring. Jace listened to you intently, his eyes not leaving yours once.
“You have a little…” He lost the rest of his sentence, reaching out a hand and softly brushing some small crumbs of your pizza away from your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat at his careful touch, holding very still for him. “There, now it’s gone.”
“Thank you.” You said quietly, a little breathless. It had been some time since you had been close to someone like this and since it was Jace, you found yourself wanting to lean closer, to let his touch linger and blossom. “It’s nice, talking to you. I’m glad your brothers visited you today.”
You laughed together, both of you trying to hide your smitten faces as you took a last sip of the warm beverage. The plates between you had become empty and your heart sank a little when it was time to leave.
“Thank you for tonight, I…I like being with you, too. I’ll walk you home, if you’d like.” Jace offered warmly and looked down the road. He buried his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Will you be at the coffee shop tomorrow?”
You nodded, a warm feeling rushing through you at the thought you’d see him there, now that everything had changed a little. “You might get to have one of my famous chocolate fudge brownies if you’re lucky.”
He looked at you with a raised eyebrow as you began to make your way down the street. “Do only your favorite guests get them?”
“Oh yeah.” You teased, trying to stay serious. “Only the ones who save me from annoying guys and invite me out for pizza afterwards.”
You looked at each other underneath the light of a streetlamp, the two of you the only souls still wandering through the night. Jace stared at you, his plump lips slightly agape. He tucked a lost curl behind his ear underneath the hoodie and said sincerely: “Then I will do my best to hold that spot.”
“It’s already yours, Jace.” You said softly and then you could not hold yourself back anymore. You stepped closer and as the boy you had grown to adore so much exhaled shakingly, you held his face between your hands and kissed him.
Jace let out a surprised huff against you, but immediately melted in your embrace as he gently kissed you back, his hands quickly finding their way out of his pockets again to hold on to your waist. You smiled against his lips and sighed happily, your one hand wandering into the curls in his nape as the other grabbed the front of his hoodie.
You had no idea how much time passed as you kissed without a worry in the world. You welcomed his warm embrace as he held you closer, your arms coming to rest around his shoulders as the kiss deepened, his lips tasting of sweet wine and faintly of the waffles he had at the shop today. Your heart threatened to overflow with giddiness as Jace moaned softly into your mouth, cradling you against his chest and touching your soft hair as you kissed and kissed and kissed…
You didn’t know it yet, but tomorrow, he’d bring you another bouquet of flowers, roses this time and you’d spend your lunch break together and kiss some more.
In the following weeks, you indulged in cozy dates at restaurants Jace knew or simply stayed on his couch all night, cuddling and kissing and eventually falling into bed together…
In the next months, you grew closer and closer and you met his family again – “The pretty girl is back, now Jace can stop pining after you like a poet!” – and Jace supported you as you started your training however he could, which mostly meant he got to try all your little perfect creations and praise you endlessly for them.
One year ahead from now on, you moved into a cozy little apartment together, your home always filled with the love you shared and many, many books and baking goods.
You did not know it yet, but oh, how you were going to find out what it meant to love Jacaerys…
my taglist (open): @princesschimchim1325 @cecestea @jacesvelaryons @princessvelaryon @diannnnsss
#jace velaryon#jace targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys targaryen#jace velaryon x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jace targaryen x reader#hotd imagine#hotd#jacaerys targaryen x you
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decelis academy: the hockey diaries - master list
⭑.ᐟ a series about falling in love featuring everyones favorite hockey players at DA
PAIRINGS: enhypen!hyung line x reader
GENRE: ice hockey, romance, angst, humour
STATUS: work in progress OPEN TAGLIST: @firstclassjaylee @50-husbands @enhaprettystars @vantxx95 @stormy1408 @fancypeacepersona AN: This is my first time writing and publishing in quite a while, but I'm very excited! I have a giant miro board with all of the plot lines! These stories take place at the same time so be prepared for crossover episodes. Incase anyone is interested in being added to the taglist, just send an ask or comment.
do you think i'm f͟r͟a͟g͟i͟l͟e͟? ☆ ͡ ⊹
⭑.ᐟ The coaches daughter - Lee Heeseung
A car accident has turned your life upside down, leaving you with a knee and ankle that ache like they belong to someone three times your age. Navigating college with these setbacks is hard enough, but when your overprotective dad insists you take an internship with the men’s hockey team, you’re thrust back into the world you’ve spent years avoiding. The rink represents everything you’ve lost—and then there’s Heeseung, the captain whom you somehow cannot stop thinking about. ᝰ warnings. Swearing, car crash, Y/N just had surgery and is using crutches, mention of injuries, a very overbearing dad, partying, some making out .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 30.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹
iced americano season ˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗
⭑.ᐟ Strangers to lovers - Park Jongseong
A simple iced americano is about to ruin Jay’s entire season. Falling for the cute barista at his favorite café means free coffee, but it also comes with unexpected complications. Now Jay's facing backlash from both his teammates and her fans, while the teams new PR manager is left trying to clean up the mess. He regrets nothing. STATUS: published RELEASE DATE: January 24th 2025
the truth untold ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
⭑.ᐟ Exes to Lovers - Sim Jaehyun
Jake’s world takes a nosedive when he gets a wedding invite from his high school ex, and to avoid showing up single, he ropes you into a fake relationship, just for the evening. You barely survive the wedding, but when a viral party scandal threatens Jake’s hockey career, management pushes you to keep up the act to save his image. What starts as a simple plan quickly spirals into something far more complicated as real feelings begin to blur the line between fake and genuine, leaving you both wondering if you’ve faked it for too long. STATUS: work in progress RELEASE DATE: mid to end of February 2025
nine and three quarters ⋆✴︎˚。⋆
⭑.ᐟ Roomates to Lovers - Park Sunghoon
A college freshman with a strict upbringing, you are focused on your studies and your career, determined to avoid distraction. But living with Sunghoon, the charming, clean-cut ice skater with a love for partying, shakes up your life. As you clash, bond, and slowly grow closer, you find yourself questioning everything you thought you knew about fun, friendship, and falling in love. STATUS: planning phase RELEASE DATE: tbd
#𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🎐 fic! decelis academy: the hockey diaries#enhypen#enhypen x reader#enhypen hyung line x reader#enhypen hyung line#hyung line#enhypen fluff#enha#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jake#enhypen jay#enhypen sunghoon#sim jake x reader#jay x reader#sunghoon x reader#jaeyun enhypen#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen college au#enhypen hockey au
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﹂come home (s.h.)
"come home to me, okay?" "always," steve promises. in between saving will, then hawkins, then somehow the world, you fall in love with steve harrington. (a stranger things rewrite).
﹂pairings: steve harrington x henderson!reader, slight jonathan byers x reader
﹂contains: fem!reader, slow burn, slight enemies to lovers (reader more just pities steve), cursing, miscommunication, unrequited love, angst, protective older sister chaos, violence in the later seasons.
﹂blurbs
﹂director's cut
﹂playlist
﹂jonathans mixtape for bug
﹂SEASON ONE
﹂SEASON TWO
﹂SEASON THREE
﹂SEASON FOUR
⌑ status: COMPLETE (for now)
⌑ main masterlist
⌑ if youd like to buy me a coffee ☕︎
#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#stranger things fic#stranger things rewrite#stranger things#ch masterlist#im so excited for this yall have no idea#m's writing
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Office Days
☕︎ There’s nothing worse than not being able to catch the attention of the person you like. No matter what you talk about or how you laugh at their slightest unfunny joke, if they’re not curious about you, you’ll never have a chance with them. But if there’s something worse than that, it’s being caught on the radar of someone you should never have attracted attention from. My boss, who I thought only cared about his work and money, noticed me and became curious about me, out of all the people around. But he wasn’t the one I wanted. This must all be a dream. Someone like Nanami Kento could never be involved with someone like me. I wouldn’t have anything to do with him either. After all, the person I liked wasn’t him. Right?
☕︎ pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader
☕︎ topics: modern au, morally gray billionaire boss!nanami, employer fem!reader, workplace romance, 6 year age gap (nanami is 34 and reader is 28), one-sided attraction, strangers to lovers, different social classes, secret admiration, cooking clasess and coffee dates with nanami, soulmate connection, traumatic past relationship, being there for reader and making reader smile is nanami’s love language (touching too), broken reader, soulmate connection, mutual hobbies, happily ever after ♡︎
☕︎ warnings: +18 Minors Do Not Interact!! +18 (explicit sexual content, cheater and abusive ex, depression moments, low self-esteem, anxiety attacks, mentioning gender discrimination in the workplace, alcohol use, mature language)
☕︎ office days aesthetic
☕︎ chapters:
⤷ chapter 1 - coming soon !
all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.
#jjk fanfic#jjk nanami#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#nanami kento#kento nanami#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#nanami kento smut#office days
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Who (6/?) J. Y & S. M
Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi
Genre: Angst, Smut
Warnings: This content is for a mature audience
Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.
Author's notes: It's been such a long time, and I'm sorry for that. Life hasn't been quite easy, but as an apology here's some smut. Hope you enjoy.
Other chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕
It had been a couple of weeks since that night, and getting used to being back wasn’t quite as easy as you thought it would be. At first feeling like a stranger to the place you had once called home, and while your lovers may try to help with that, you fear they may seem to be overcompensating a bit.
You woke up because of the ungodly amount of sound that came from the kitchen.
“Yunho?” Your eyes could barely focus on the things in front of you, besides, what the hell was he doing at home at this hour? Wiping the floor?
“Good morning, my love.” He sighed and got up, “I’m sorry did I wake you up? I dropped some pans and spilt milk. I’m sorry I’m a bit of a mess right now.” He kissed your forehead before going back to cooking, “I’m making breakfast, are pancakes, okay? We also have cereal, or I can make you some eggs or…”
“Pancakes are okay, but what are you doing here so late in the morning? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?” You took a seat on the kitchen bar.
“I’m taking some time off, they asked me to. Just to get my head back on my shoulders.” He flipped a pancake, “Mingi will be back in a second he went to get some orange juice, we ran out yesterday and we know how much you like it and…” He kept on going, but you couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.
You looked at him without saying anything. His hands trembled with every move he made; he kept on rambling, not stopping to take a breath, afraid to let any uncomfortable silences come through. He couldn’t stay put, moving things around, not able to focus on one thing.
Mingi came through the door. His hands were full of grocery bags that threatened to snap and spill what was inside of them. “I’m back!” He set everything on the countertop, bags of snacks spilling out, hygiene products you were missing, and a bunch of things you don’t even remember mentioning you needed. “I bought everything you ask for, my love.”
“Mingi, you didn’t have to buy this all at once. I have most of this stuff back at my place.”
“Oh well, now you have them here.”
After everything that you had gone through you felt like you needed a bit of time alone, to take a step back and process. Having to come to terms with the idea of being single, actually trying to move on, Bang Chan, the club, Yunho and Mingi. All that in such a short period was messing with your head. But your lovers seemed to differ.
“Babe, I will come back earlier from work to take you on a date, okay?”
“Mingi, we went out yesterday, I’m sure Jongho needs your help back at the office.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of everything.”
Yunho wasn’t any different.
“My love, how about we go for a walk? Or would you rather watch a movie? We can go for some ice cream.”
“Yun, don’t you have to study? I saw your calendar and you have an upcoming test.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll figure it out.”
You missed them, and not having them around had been a nightmare, but this might be over the top. Not neglecting you didn’t have to mean neglecting everything else. So, a list of all the things you had to do began to form in the back of your head.
First, figure out a way to tell them (in a way that won’t destroy Mingi) that you need some space to understand what’s going on in your head and heart. Second, get some actual work done; bills still need to get paid. Third and last of all (and the one you have been dreading the most) talk to Chan. You weren’t even sure if he would be willing to. Jisung said he hasn’t seen him come out of his apartment, and he doesn’t even answer the door; every single time Minho tried contacting him it goes straight to voice mail. Your friend assures you he only needs a bit of time, but you are not quite sure, this might be it for your friendship, and you won’t lie, it breaks your heart.
____________________________________________
Going back to the first task. You rehearsed over and over again the things you want to say, in your head and front of the mirror, it makes you cringe, but it’s better than to see Mingi drown in tears and sobs.
“I appreciate all the effort you are putting in, but that doesn’t mean you have to neglect everything else in your life...”
“We have to learn how to balance work, our individuality and this relationship...”
“All this will take time, trust is gained slowly, and I’m sure…”
And you swore those would be the words that would come out of your mouth the second dinner was over. It wasn’t easy to explain how you ended up in this position…
Mingi between your legs, lapping at your pussy like a starved man, his mouth alternating between your entrance and your clit, not knowing which one to pleasure first. Meanwhile, Yunho was sucking at your neck, leaving bruises all over the sensitive skin; his fingers pinched and pulled on your nipples, and the sins that came out of his mouth made you tremble.
“Haven’t you missed this, my love?” He said pulling on your earlobe, “Have you missed Mingi eating your sweet, little cunt, mm?”
Mingi let your skin go with a pop, before pushing two of his long, thick fingers inside you without warning, finding a rhythm immediately, kitten licking your clit at the same time.
You couldn’t form any coherent thoughts; pleasure had completely taken over your brain; you could only feel the warmth of Mingi’s tongue and Yunho’s hard cock on your back.
“Please, please, please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for.
“What do you need, baby? Tell us and we’ll give it to you.”
“I need you.” You whimpered.
“But baby, you have us.” Fucking Yunho, always a tease.
“Please, please Yuyu.”
“You need to tell me, love.”
Mingi’s mouth abandoned your core, leaving you aching and in need of more. “Come on, baby. You have to tell us what you want.” He urged, mocking you. “Use your words.” His fingers kept you on the edge, but not giving you any more.
Your mind is clouded by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. "I need..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "...both of you."
Yunho's fingers continued their torturous assault on your sensitive buds, while his teeth nipped your skin, "And you will have us."
Mingi resumed his ministrations with renewed fervour. His fingers delved deeper, stroking that sweet spot inside you that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins, while his tongue resumed its teasing assault on your throbbing clit.
“I need to cum, please.”
"Then cum, my love, cum for us.”
With a strangled cry, you let yourself go, surrendering yourself to the overwhelming sea of sensations your lovers were providing. Heavy breaths escaped your chest, a constant ring in your ears, you could barely tell where you were, but one thing was clear, your lovers were not done with you.
You could feel them moving around you. This time Mingi was the one behind you, holding your knees against your chest, placing small kisses and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, his hands massaged your thighs gently.
“You did so good for us, sweetheart.” His fingers traced patterns in your bruised skin.
The familiar sound of the lubricant’s cap opening made you whimper; you had been conditioned to know what would happen next. Yunho and Mingi would always make sure to prepare you to take them, making you cum a couple of times before even trying anything, but tonight you just couldn’t wait, and neither could they.
“Are you ready, my love?” Yunho’s words made you tremble. You felt both their tips in your entrance, ready to claim you at the same time. Mingi kept his hands on your hips while the man in front of you caressed your legs, waiting for your permission to go on. Both of them slightly shaking with excitement and desperation.
“Yes.”
The sensation of being filled by them was overwhelming, but made you feel complete, whole, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Their movements were slow and hesitant, not wanting to hurt you. Mingi’s moans and whines filled your ears, his hands pinched your skin and his head was thrown back in ecstasy.
“Oh my god, yes, god yes!” He wasn’t concerned by the sounds that left his mouth, too busy enjoying the feeling of your warmth enveloping him.
Yunho wasn’t doing any better, groans constantly leaving his mouth, driving himself deeper inch by inch. His eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly opened, his eyes could only focus on the place where your bodies met and became one. The image of his and Mingi’s cock splitting you open wasn’t new, but goddamn was it the most erotic thing he had ever seen.
You closed your eyes, trying to control yourself. Pain and pleasure danced inside you, intertwining themselves and covering your entire being. Each thrust consumed you entirely, making your moans turn into screams, you could feel yourself teetering over the edge. The blonde´s fingers pushed on the small bud of nerves at your core making tears spill out of your eyes, while Yunho’s lips sucked your nipples raw.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He moaned, his hips never relenting their hellish pace. And a single moment of clarity, his eyes met Mingi’s. The same look of need and lust covered his face, red cheeks and dazed eyes, cries escaping his mouth, a small I love you between them. With what little sanity he had left, he took the younger man’s head and pushed their heads in a kiss. their teeth clashing and tongues sucking on each other in ardour, both of them moaning because of the new stimulation.
“I’m going to cum!” You cried. An explosion of pleasure filled your system, as your body convulsed in ecstasy, making you almost pass out. Yunho and Mingi couldn’t hold back any longer, the tight knot snapped, joining you and spilling their seed inside you. Their essence and yours running down your thighs, ending up in the couch’s leather.
The three of you lay breathless, boneless, but complete. You had for once and for all found your way back to each other, and after what felt like an eternity, everything felt right.
____________________________________________
Taglist:
@tunaasan @scuzmunkie @jeongwangjessmina @certifiedmoa @tenebrisirae @ddaeing @bratty-tingz @myshadowsbackstage @berryfiavoured @jkookiejiminlvr @yunsara @soobiverse @kyeos4ng @asjkdk @popcatx0 @yunho-leeknow @escape-from-realitys-stuff @thedistractedwriter @vsereniasstuff @sundayysunshine @queen-thiccness @toomuchtellyneck @daemon-bunny @hyuk4ngel @rxnexxi @daemon-bunny @toomuchtellyneck @queen-thiccness @queen-beanzzz @faesmingi @imcoenffl @fandom-freak-geek @sunnyhokyu @icouldntcareless22 @idfkeddieishot @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mellikestoread @harriy3nko @yvnhoos @shnstarlight @realviviboss @yeosangiess @astro-doll-the-star @smilefordongil
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the pink pill series | ot7 (m) MASTERLIST
➥ banner by: @jkndigo.
➥ PAIRINGS: namjoon x fem!reader ; seokjin x fem!reader ; yoongi x fem!reader ; hoseok x fem!reader ; jimin x fem!reader ; taehyung x fem!reader ; jungkook x fem!reader
➥ SUMMARY: In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.
➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ porn without plot ⋆ multiple dynamics
➥ CATEGORY: series of 7 one-shots
➥ GENERAL WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it up), protected sex, friends with benefits, exes, enemies to lovers, fuckboys, best friends, strangers, accidental consumption of the pill, creampie, cumshots, fingering, oral sex, dirty talk, spanking, choking, forceful restraint (no not in that way), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, edging, crying, multiple sex positions, saliva-play, begging, dom/sub, brattiness, rough sex, facefucking, gonna add more later, yes this is a real pill just look up pink pussycat pill or pink kitty pill, minors DNI
➥ TOTAL WORDCOUNT: 18.9k (so far)
➥ STATUS: 2/7
⋆ TAGLIST ⋆
⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆
CONCEPT VIDEO:
©dollfaceksj // edited by me
song: beyoncé – partition
— T H E O N E - S H O T S ↓
♢ the pink pill | knj ver. ; ✄
♢ the pink pill | ksj ver. ; ✄
♢ the pink pill | myg ver. — “no one else” ; 9.8k
♢ the pink pill | jhs ver. ; ✄
♢ the pink pill | pjm ver. ; ✄
♢ the pink pill | kth ver. ; ✄
♢ the pink pill | jjk ver. — “3 days” ; 9.1k
➸ crossposted to ao3.
➸ support me by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡
#bts fanfiction#bts fics#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts#bts smut#namjoon x reader#kim namjoon x reader#seokjin x reader#kim seokjin x reader#yoongi x reader#min yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#jung hoseok x reader#jimin x reader#park jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#kim taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#namjoon smut#seokjin smut#yoongi smut#hoseok smut#jimin smut#taehyung smut#jungkook smut#dollfaceksj#minors dni
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Plot Templates for Dark Fiction
MC hears about danger and mocks it as unreal, and ses out to prove that it's not real. He enlists the helps of a loyal but reluctant friend/servant/colleague/lover. -> Things get stranger and they fall into real danger -> MC fights the threat, narrowly getting away with his life. -> The danger gets even worse -> The threat is defeated, and the friend often pays a terrible price.
A danger threats the MC's community and he is the only one who can defeat it -> First Failure -> Second Failure -> She learns something important, and wins.
MC wants to belong to a community (secret society, gang, etc.) -> He works to convince the others that he is worthy of being a member -> He is granted initiation -> He works harder to be taken into the Inner Circle -> He realizes that the community is evil -> Will he go ahead or back out? (A) End with the realization (B) His conscience wins and he sacrifices himself (C) He decides to go ahead, enjoying the evil.
He devotes himself to fighting the evil -> She makes sacrifices for the good -> She realizes that what she has fought for is actually evil, and the people around her were right.
An innocent MC observes the actions of others -> The reader picks up on the subtext that there's something evil while the MC goes around, naive.
MC is urged by a friend not to pursue a dangerous venture -> The venture turns out to be harder than it seemed -> He barely escapes from the danger and seeks help -> Help does not arrive and the MC fights against the menace -> the friend/traitor falls into their own trap they've laid for the MC
Newly dead MC wakes undead as a ghost/zombie/vampire -> He has unfinished business to conclude and sets out for his mission -> He meets unexpected obstacles in the world of the undead -> He realizes something new and forfeits the initial mission
MC is obsessed hunting a monster/evil creature -> He nearly dies but prevails -> He takes a trophy home but realizes that the monster had got to his family first -> His triumph becomes meaningless
MC believes that an evil creature/monster is actually innocent -> She sets out to win its trust and tames it -> She succeeds and lets her guard down -> The monster attacks her
MC wants to overcome a personal fear -> He succeeds after many attempts -> He realizes that in this instance he should have listened to his instincts - he has become an easy victim
MC is a semi-sympathetic character whom the reader can understand, but not quite like -> He obsessively plots to get the justice/love he thinks he deserves -> He realies he has falledn into his won trap/walked into a rival's similar trap -> He tries desperately to escape -> MC dies knowing that he obsessions have brought his own demise.
MC is a righteous character -> She lands in a situation with only two options, which are immoral.
MC plots to bring the downfall of another character -> He is betrayed by his most trusted friend
MC schemes to trap another person -> She realizes too late that she has been outsmarted/fallen into her own trap
These are some common plot progressions, so feel free to explore with other types!
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* . ───
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💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2
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Hi! Just wanna let you know that the pet fundraiser from 'quicksilvah' is a scam. If you want more info, there's a post about this person and how to identify their posts here, an archive of all their posts, blogs, avatars, asks etc here, and a detailed post on general scam red flags here
The main giveaways for this scammer are: 1) their oldest post is only a few hours old. 2) They use USD $ in their post, but if you hover over the paypal link, it says 'country=PH', which is Philippines, where they use Philippine pesos 3) They're asking people to use paypal 'friends and family', because it doesn't give protection if you get scammed 4) They're reusing the same paypal from earlier blogs that were deleted (paypal 'kyoungton') 5) They may have sent you a random ask out of the blue, saying not to answer it publicly (so they don't show up in searches)
If you ask them to write random words of your choice on a sheet of paper and take a photo of the cat with them, they won't be able to provide it
I'm sending this message to as many people as I can to warn them and share some tips :) You can report the scammer through 'report something else', 'unlawful uses or content', then 'phishing'. Some people delete the reblogged post, others keep it up and put huge warnings in the reblog text field and tags to warn others (they will see that warning in the post notes, it also annoys the scammer because they have to waste time blocking people to hide those comments). Have a nice day!
Omg thank you sm!!! I really appreciate it !
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house of addams (2)
— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader
— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut
— 🗝️ word count: 3.3k
— 🍄 summary: you and yoongi tackle your first day of fieldwork, and this town and it's mysteries prove to be stranger than they first appeared.
— ☕ content warnings: private investigator!reader and botanist!yoongi being nerds, mentions of death/missing persons, scientific inaccuracies lol
— 🕸️ a/n: and the mystery continues!
previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter
chpt. 2: but first, fieldwork
september 22, 2004
You've been having strange dreams. Normally, you don't remember most of your dreams, but these have been oddly vivid and long-lasting, like the lingering stench of a cigarette that sticks to your clothes.
In some, you're wandering through a forest, wading through a thick mist. No, not wandering, because it feels like you're searching for something, you just don't know what.
In others, you're submerged in murky green water. Tendrils of seagrass like twisting trees brush against your ankles. And there's a sound reverberating through the water, something like chittering and groaning at the same time.
When you wake up, the window above your bed is open, though you don't remember unlatching it last night. Just outside the glass is a canopy of green, bright and vigorous from the early dew.
You pull the window shut and dismiss the dreams completely from your mind, because you have things to do. Today is your first day of fieldwork with Yoongi, the botanist.
Yoongi is punctual, which you very much like. He arrives at the meeting spot three minutes early. Luckily, you were there ten minutes early.
"G'morning," he mumbles, his voice still raspy with sleep. His hair is ruffled and his eyes are slightly droopy. He's wearing dark jeans and a flannel, but appears comfortable in the frigid air.
"Morning, thanks for coming," you say, handing him the iced americano and glazed bun you just picked up from the coffee shop.
Cat's Den, it's called. The same barista from your previous visit was working, and he seemed just as cheerful.
"Thank you," Yoongi says with new life in his voice, gratefully sipping from his drink.
You inform him that your first stop will be the residence of Mrs. Bradley. You want him to see the strange fungus in person to get the most accurate identification.
The two of you pile into your Honda CRX. It's a beater car, with scratches on the exterior and ripped seats. You've had it ever since you were a teenager, but the engine has held up throughout the years.
When you ask Yoongi if he's heard of the death of Michael Bradley, he just scrunches his brows.
"I think it was in the paper once," he says. "Something about household cleaners and chemicals. The mayor kept it buttoned up, apparently."
Again, the mention of the mayor. She kept the case under wraps, but clearly she trusts Yoongi to know about it since she recommended him to you.
"Hmm, well Mrs. Bradley won't submit to questioning so far," you say, rattling with the car as it traverses over a ridge in the dirt road.
"So far?" Yoongi prompts, and you can hear the slight amusement in his tone.
The corner of your mouth tugs up in a barely concealed smirk. "I can be very persistent," you add.
You stop the car a block away from their house. Yoongi follows you dutifully when you exit wordlessly and make you way onto their lawn. The ring of mushrooms is still there. In fact, it appears to have gotten wider.
You drop to one knee and begin taking pictures.
"Won't Mrs. Bradley get upset?" Yoongi asks, looking into the dark windows of the house.
"She leaves for work at five a.m." you reply. "We'll be finished long before she gets back."
He doesn't reply, because the mushrooms have snagged almost every ounce of his attention.
"Very peculiar," he mutters to himself.
"Can you identify them?" you ask, trying not to divulge how much you're waiting on his reply.
Yoongi pulls a retractable magnifying glass from his pocket and flips it open, dropping to the damp earth beside you.
"Infundibuliform cap shape," he says, more to himself than to you. But from what you've gathered from the book, it means a "deeply depressed" cap shape. In this case, it makes the cap look like a set of tendrils. Reaching out.
Yoongi takes out a pair of tweezers and turns the mushroom this way and that, examining it.
Something catches your eye.
"Pores and gills?" you say. Typically mushrooms have one or the other, but this one has a membrane covered in small holes as well as an underside full of thin openings.
"False gills, ridges," Yoongi supplements, deep in concentration. "Gills can be detached, but ridges are built into the structure."
"Is that common among mushrooms?" you ask.
"Hmm, not entirely sure. Not a mycologist," he replies, snipping off one of the mushrooms and dropping it into a specimen bag.
A part of you lights up inside. It looks like he's going to help you with this whole thing, judging by his interest in the strange fungi.
You're greatly appreciative, because reading that book on mushrooms was not exactly the most effortless research endeavor. It was plenty interesting, but still chock full of scientific terminology that you aren't familiar with.
"I have a friend back at the university who can take a closer look at this," Yoongi says, rising to a stand.
A flutter in your stomach. This is coming along nicely. The more professional opinions you can get, the better.
"Take a look at this," you say, leading him to the rotted tree trunk.
You watch as his delicate features twist, perplexed. He really is very pretty, but you shouldn't be thinking such things.
"Is this common among trees?" you ask a little hesitantly. It's such a shame to break his concentration when he looks like that.
"Not that I know of," he mutters, taking a tentative step closer.
You did a bit of research on tree rot, but nothing you saw looked quite like this. Wood, even rotted wood, has a splintered appearance. This wood looks almost wet, maybe even flesh-like. It looks, and smells, like an infected wound.
You take plenty of pictures.
"Can I get a copy of those?" Yoongi asks, looking at you with wide, eager eyes. A cat that's caught sight of a treat.
"Yes, of course," you reply with only the slightest bit of difficulty.
"Thank you." He flashes you a gummy smile. Fuck.
"Okay," you blurt out suddenly, pretending to check your watch. "Let's get moving."
Your next location is the sight of Jarvis Laplan's death.
The forest, you've learned thanks to Yoongi's kind direction, has been unofficially divided into sections by the surrounding civilians. There's the "North Star" area, mostly made up of sparse trees and grasses. This is where most of the residential homes are backdropped against, including Bradley's.
Then "Gunman's," an area southwest of North Star. Aptly named, this is the designated hunting grounds, clearly labeled and fenced. A few residences outline Gunman's, including Laplan's. But Laplan wasn't found in Gunman's, he was found in Ulthar's Grove.
"Ulthar's Grove," south of Gunman's and absolutely NOT a hunting area. Apparently, local stray cats and other rodents flock to this area, roaming about freely and building nests in hollow tree stumps. Children and teenagers can sometimes be found playing in this area, because of the several residences tucked into its borders and the relative safety compared to other areas of the forest.
Then, at the center of it all, Lurking Lake. Aptly named, it is not well-inhabited and generally avoided by locals. A naturally formed lake, it is infested with algae, an invasive species of eel-like fish, and characterized by a distinctive musky smell.
You and Yoongi enter into Ulthar's Grove, weaving through gnarled trees and mossy stones.
As if he can't help it, Yoongi points out the names of the local flora as you pass them. The scientific names and the common names, seemingly for your benefit. It's quite amusing, watching his face light up when he recognizes a familiar species.
And you learn a lot, taking as many notes as you can on the local wildlife while navigating the path.
You don't notice, but Yoongi is sneaking glances at you while you scribble feverishly.
"Are my ramblings really that interesting?" he prods playfully.
Your attention is jerked from the page. You glance at him over your shoulder, feeling a burn in your cheeks.
"I try to remember everything I learn," you say, and your voice betrays none of the slight embarrassment you feel at being observed in your "natural habitat." Because you've always been very intent, maybe even obsessed, with collecting knowledge. You suppose that's one of the things that makes you good at your job.
As if he can sense your thoughts, Yoongi says, "So, you're a journalist?"
You never told him exactly what your occupation was, only that the mayor sent you. You hesitate for a moment. For some reason, you have no desire to lie to him.
"Private investigator," you reply.
He hums in acknowledgement. He doesn't ask who you were hired by, but the subtext is clear enough. The mayor recommended him to you for a reason, after all.
The two of you arrive at the site. No longer is it wrapped in police tape, but the same eerie air of caution still lingers.
Aged thirty-five, he was found in the woods. More specifically, in a little clearing among the closely-knit trees, in the center of a ring of dead grass.
Apparently, Laplan was dissatisfied with the control of local wildlife, and took it upon himself to do a bit of "population control." He was found in hunting gear with a .35 Remington, without a single shot fired.
Yoongi says that very little information was in the papers, similar to Bradley. Just a warning to civilians regarding a recent animal attack.
"He wasn't attacked, he was mauled," you can't help but say as you examine the site. The mayor gave you snippets of the police reports, but you still have yet to get your hands on the coroner's report.
"By what?" Yoongi asks, a strange hesitation in his voice.
You look at him.
"Not sure" you reply, turning your attention to the surroundings at hand.
Laplan was found here, among this break in the trees. The ring of dead grass remains, and half of you expects to see a pool of blood in the center of it. But there is nothing but brittle vegetation.
"What kind of animal?" Yoongi asks as he circles around the perimeter.
"A mountain lion, presumably." But for some reason, a reason that you can't name, you doubt it.
A wave of uneasiness ripples through you.
"Let's fan out a bit, try to see if any of the trees around here have the same rot," you call out, eager for a distraction.
The two of you explore the area for a while, noting irregularities in the plant life. Evidently, thanks to Yoongi's commentary, you discover that the surrounding plants appear to be dehydrated, despite the abundant rain. Neither of you find any of the strange mushrooms in this part of the woods.
Yoongi checks his watch at noon on the dot.
"We should get moving. You said there's one more site you wanted to visit, right?"
He's right, the site of Sharon Mason, the final and most recently deceased. You remember now that Yoongi said he had to leave at two p.m., though he didn't mention why.
Lurking Lake, and the surrounding woods which apparently don't have a name, according to Yoongi. They are simply known as "the woods surrounding Lurking Lake."
And you must say, the name lives up to its potential. First of all, it's bigger than you thought it would be. It has a presence, the beating heart of the forest.
Under the gray sky, the water is dark green with a peculiar, abysmal deepness. The perimeter of the lake is outlined by wild grass and moss-robed stones, and the outer edges of the water have a film of algae.
Fog hangs over the landscape like a misty curtain, swirling along the ground.
"She was found by the lake, right?" Yoongi asks, examining some sort of cattail grass by the lakeshore.
"In the lake," you correct, bending over to look closer at the pebbled shore.
"Barely anything in the papers again," Yoongi says before you get the chance to ask. "Mainly because they don't know all that much."
"Hmm," you reply, staring at some sort of microscopic, squirming plankton in the shallow lake water.
Sharon Mason, aged seventeen. Found floating in the lake. Homicide ruled out, apparently.
The third death in under three months, and it certainly left a mark on the community, especially since she was only a teenager. You wonder if this was the catalyst that drove the mayor to hire a private investigator.
"Has the college noticed anything unusual about the lake? In the ecosystem, I mean," you ask.
"Not that I know of," Yoongi immediately responds. A little too quickly.
You straighten up and watch as he paces around the edge of the water, hands in his pockets.
"Nothing?" you ask again, a little more pointed this time. Because you hardly believe that nothing has surfaced at the university. Why else would the mayor include investigative services in "ecological disturbances" in her job description?
"No, ma'am," Yoongi replies, and the politeness in his voice is incriminating.
You'll have to look into it.
"Well, I won't know the finer details until I get the coroner's report," you say.
Yoongi looks up at you.
"The coroner?" he asks, curiosity and something else in his tone.
"Yes, I'll need to speak to him eventually. Do you happen to know where his office is? I've been having trouble getting him on the phone," you say.
You're watching closely for his reply, and you see his eyes flicker to something in the distance.
Following his gaze, you see it. The massive house on the hill, dark and towering over the valley. Through the mist, it looks like an abandoned Victorian mansion.
"The Addams House," Yoongi says from behind you.
"Addams? Is that who lives there?" you ask with your eyes still fixed on the house, like a beacon that you can't look away from.
"Used to, they're long gone now," Yoongi replies. "The new owner rents it out now,"
"And who would that be?" you press.
Yoongi just shrugs.
"The only people who know for sure are the tenants themselves. Apparently, he's a bit of a recluse."
Hmm, interesting.
"And...that's where the coroner's office is?" you ask, a little incredulous.
He nods a little hesitantly.
"Mm hmm, it's in the basement."
"Ah, of course it is," you can't help but reply, and it makes Yoongi smile a bit.
There's a pause as the two of you poke around.
"So, what exactly are you looking for?" Yoongi asks.
That makes you stop and think for a moment, because you're not entirely sure what it is you're looking for here. At Bradley's place, it was the mushrooms. Laplan's place of death, any indication of unusual wildlife or animal activity. Here at the lake, you don't even have a cause of death.
"I'm not entirely sure," you admit, again not finding it in you to lie to him. "I'll have a much better idea when I get the coroner's report."
Something you said seems to remind him, prompting him to check his watch.
"I have to go now," he says, quickly gathering his things.
"Alright, I'll give you a ride back," you offer. Not that you would ever admit it, but you're not quite ready to part from him yet.
"No, no, that's alright," he blurts out, already making his way towards the outline of trees. "It's a short walk," he insists.
"From here?" you question, but by the time you turn around, all you can see is his dark hair and slight frame darting expertly between the trees.
Your shoulders deflate as you let the rest of your sentence die with a puff of breath. A strange man, no doubt. But then again, that's how you like them.
Later that day, you venture to the coffee shop to do some more research, but the establishment is closed. The man mentioned something about only being closed on Wednesday afternoons.
The bookstore on the other side of the alley is closed too, none of the warm light from last time leaking from the front window.
You use your entire living room floor as your cork board and red thread, scattering open books and papers like a difficult-to-navigate parchment sea.
And you sail that sea until three a.m.
Five missing. The first is Alissa Ward, aged thirty-two, last seen at a grocery store at 5:32 p.m. She returned home at 5:47, according to her home security system, and then randomly left through the back door at 2:42 a.m. She lived alone, and it took a while for authorities to report her missing.
Then, Brynn Synder, aged twenty-nine, last seen at her boyfriend's place the night before her disappearance. Apparently, she had a habit of running through the woods in the early morning, and she was reported missing when she failed to show up at brunch with friends the next morning.
The police searched the woods. They found nothing.
You fall asleep on the couch as you're nearing the end of her file, dreaming of feet pounding on dirt.
september 23, 2004.
The coroner proves to be even more elusive than you thought. He appears to be averse to his faxing machine, and downright allergic to his telephone.
By midmorning, you're trudging up through the damp earth to the house on the hill. The closer you get, the more massive it appears. Ancient brickwork, towers and iron spires, neatly clipped hedges flush to the sides of house, and crowned by spindly trees overhead.
There's a tall iron gate encompassing the entire property, spiraling with twisting designs. You try it, but it appears to be sealed even though you don't see a lock of any kind.
You still rattle it a few times for good measure, causing the metal to creak and screech as if it were alive, and very displeased at the rough treatment.
A moment later, a figure emerges from the fog. A man, it looks like, wearing a large coat. As he approaches, you notice the floppy black hair hanging in front of his face.
"Hello, I'm sorry to bother you," you call out when he's close enough to hear you. Really, you're not sorry, since you've been trying to get a hold of the coroner for several days now, with not so much as a return message.
The man is young, with a strong jaw and handsome features. But his skin, it's somehow completely colorless. You can't quite explain it, but it looks like ice, translucent yet cloudy at the same time. And what's weirder is the way your eyes can't quite stay focused on it. It makes your head throb if you stare at the same place for too long.
"I need to speak to the coroner," you say, putting authority in your voice. If you want to get anywhere with this case, you'll need the causes of death.
"He...He isn't here right now," the man says, sounding a little nervous. Now that you're closer, you can see his bunny-like front teeth biting at his strangely colorless lips.
"When will he be back?" you reply.
The man's head is downturned, eyes flickering over the ground.
"I'm not sure. He's spread quite thin, you see," he says.
You raise an eyebrow, unsatisfied.
"W-Well there aren't many forensic pathologists in this area, so he has to service the next three towns. And he always takes Wednesdays off for personal reasons, so he hasn't been in yet and-"
"Alright, kid," you interrupt his rambling, since he only appears to be getting more nervous by the second.
"Just have him call me as soon as possible, okay?" You hand him a card with your information scratched onto it, and he reaches through the gate's bars to take it between his extremely cold fingers.
"Yes ma'am," he says obediently, scurrying back up the hill and disappearing behind a hedge wall.
Strange young man, you think. But, as you're starting to realize, that is the norm in this town.
"She saw through my glamour," Jungkook announces to the room. And everyone freezes, stealing little glances at each other.
"I told you, she's perceptive," Yoongi says from his place on the chaise lounge.
"Curious too, she came into the bookshop looking for something on strange fungi," Namjoon supplies.
"And spent the entire night in the cafe reading," Jin adds.
"She won't stop calling my office. I'm not sure what I'm going to tell her," Taehyung admits.
"She's just doing her job," Jimin counters.
"In any case," a stern voice interrupts, the only voice that hasn’t spoken so far.
“Keep an eye on her.”
a/n: thank you muchly for reading!! if you tell me your thoughts i might explode with joy
NEXT PART: 05/15/24 @8:00 a.m. PST
#bts ot7#bts x fem!reader#bts x reader#bts fanfic#ot7 x reader#bts mystery#bts series#bts angst#bts fanfiction
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𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒔
“𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒚”
[ 𝟸𝟾 | 𝟻'𝟷𝟷" | Agender | Demi | ❤︎𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆 ]
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⊰𝐒𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐬⊱
ᴄᴏᴘɪɴɢ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪꜱᴍ: Experimenting ꜰᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ: 𝐶𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜 ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟɪᴛʏ: ... ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ: Knowledge ʙᴀᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ: Strength & Speed
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⊰𝐒𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞⊱
𝗙𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗼𝗻
𝘌𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴/𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 “𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘴” 𝘴𝘵𝘺𝘭𝘦 & 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴, 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘴, 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴, 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴—𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯
“𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵” (they only wear dresses as a disguise or formal wear)
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𝗛𝗮𝗶𝗿
𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘬, & 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘭𝘺; 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱𝘥𝘰
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𝗕𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘁
“𝘐𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴. 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝑴𝒚𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩, & 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰.”
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⊰𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬⊱
ꜱᴇx‣ AFAB ᴘʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴꜱ‣ They/Them ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴛʏᴘᴇ‣ 𝐿𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑦 (w/ wider shoulders) ꜰᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ‣ 𝐿𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑎𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑠 ᴅɪꜱʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ‣ 𝐷𝑒𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑒 (they like it just fine, it's society that has an issue) ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀ‣ 𝐶𝑜𝑧𝑦 ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴ ᴏɴ ʟᴏɴᴅᴏɴ‣ “𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.” ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀᴀʙʟᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴇ‣ “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘥 𝘕𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦” ꜰᴀᴍᴇ ᴏʀ ɪɴꜰᴀᴍʏ‣ “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 & 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯.” ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ ᴏɴ ɴᴏᴛᴏʀɪᴇᴛʏ‣ “𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬, & 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘴—𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘺.”
They REALLY like birds, especially pigeons/doves 🐦
𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒐𝒏 is part of their family, almost as close as a sister they grew up with would be 🥺 (she provides them with a lot of comfort just by being at their side)
They always keep some chocolate on hand for 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒐𝒏 (to help with her hangry moods) 🍫
The matching lockets are modeled after compasses so that the 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒔 siblings “can always find each other in the end” 🧭
Occasionally, smokes (typically when they're experiencing intense emotions) 🚬
𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌'𝒔 voice can best be described as “rich & husky” 🗣
Despite being exceptionally observant, they have a blind spot when it comes to their own “feelings”, it takes them a while to realize that they like™ 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆... & even longer to understand that he actually likes™ them back (𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒐𝒏 just watches the 2 of them, flustering each other, on the sidelines like: 🤭)
They enjoy teasing 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆, all in good fun, of course, NEVER with any malice 😘 (𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆 is a dear friend & hopefully more to them)
𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 is considered “unconventionally attractive” (they grew into their looks after puberty), despite viewing themselves as the EXACT opposite (“monstrous” enough that they avoid their own reflection unless deemed absolutely necessary 😔)
𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 has severe body dysmorphia, independent of their pre-existing gender dysphoria 🏳️⚧️ (these both contribute to their utter disbelief that 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆 truly reciprocates their “romantic” feelings)
For breakfast, they always have apple-cinnamon-porridge & a coffee (with milk + sugar) 🥣☕
They always wear flat or low-heeled footwear, as they're an extremely clumsy individual (they have a very hard time succeeding when feats of finesse & coordination are required 😵💫)
As someone who already suffers from intrusive thoughts & suicidal idealization, 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆'𝒔 careless words at 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗵𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗛𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝗯 deeply wounded them (harsh words from strangers can easily be brushed-off & forgotten by them... but those delivered by “friends” always leave a lasting scar 🥲)
When in public or around those they're uncertain about 𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 is extremely mindful about how they're perceived (ALWAYS trying to be viewed as perfectly “proper”), however, when in private with those they truly trust they relax & allow their true personality to shine through
𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 is very passionate about their sense of fashion (it's really the only part of their “apperance” they find little fault in) 👗
They have only a theoretical understanding in the “ways of the flesh” (they've NEVER been familiar enough with anybody to awaken such feelings... until 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆 came into their life 😳🔞)
...
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𝐼𝐹: @doriana-gray-games
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⊰𝑴𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆⊱
⚝ Her 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘤𝘢𝘨𝘦
Character creator used: @ummmmandy
#They like 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆 because he makes their brain quiet & their heart go brrrrrrrrrr ♡#𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 *staring at 𝑳𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒆*: “I just wanna be friends...” 👁️👁️#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart IF#if:The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes IF#if: The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes-if#AAOTH#AAOTH if#if: AAOTH#AAOTH-if#COG#CYOA#choice game#IF#interactive fiction game#interactive fiction#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart MC#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart PC#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - An affair of the heart OC#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes MC#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes PC#The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes OC#Mx. Sherlock Holmes#Sherlock Holmes#IF OCs#character profile
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Sirius Black - Time in a Bottle
Pairing : Sirius Black x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 0.7k Warning : Happens during the war. Synopsis : Whatever storm they might need to weather in the future, knowing that marrying her would be the first thing they'd do once the sun comes back up, would forever be enough for Sirius to give the day another chance. Notes : Don't forget to fill the form here if you'd like to be tagged for my future works. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ Sirius Black's Masterlist click here. Taglist : @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @sofiacblair @when-you-cant-think-of-anything
His occasional hums were the only sound breaking the silence of the cottage. Her cheek resting on the bare skin of his chest, legs entangled with each other, body covered only by the thin layer of bedsheets. If either of them could find a spell to freeze time in a bottle, this would certainly be the moment they'll capture.
"Humour me," Sirius says, his fingers now travels through the strands of her hair "If we managed to get out of this war, alive and unscathed, what would you do first?"
"If?" She lets out a breathy chuckle "That doesn't sound optimistic."
"Yes, well, I'm trying to be realistic."
"Realistic? Sirius Black being realistic?" She asks, looking up and raising an eyebrow at him "Who are you and what have you done to my boyfriend, Stranger?"
The boy rolled his eyes, "Just answer the question."
"Let's see," She says with a long sigh, her smile never leaving her lips "The first thing I'd do when we win the war would be.."
Sirius waited. He stares into her eyes, trying to see if there's anything she secretly wishes yet couldn't find the words to utter. He watches as her brows furrow and relax. She's certainly trying to work the gears in her head to find an answer.
And then it dawned in him. Like an episode playing in the back of his mind, replaying all of his favourite moments with her and all the things he's loved about her. He could hear her voice when she first called his name back in second year. He could see her smile when he first won the Quidditch cup. He could feel the weight of her fingers around his when he first held her hand. All of them replaying and flooding his senses like a tidal wave.
The thumping in his chest quickens. He begins to wonder about all the future possibilities for the two of them. He wonders what kind of a house would they be moving into. He wonders what kind of dress would she wear on their wedding day. He wonders how many children they would have and if they would have his eye colour or hers.
"Marry me."
His question snaps them both, blinking as he tries to process how his mouth ran faster than his brain, just as always. Sirius could see the surprise on her face as the smile on her face dilutes into an uncertain one. His mouth feels dry all of a sudden. An unexplainable lump forming on his throat and he struggles to followup with any kind of explanation to his sudden outburst.
A hesitant smile tugs on the corner of her lips, "Marry you?"
"If you'd like." He says, voice filled with uncertainty "I mean, if you couldn't find anything to do first after the war, that could be a suggestion."
"Actually, I've thought of something."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm," She nods, moving to now lay on top of him "I was thinking of going back to this cottage and redoing all the things we did tonight, as if we never left this place."
Sirius grins as he rests his hands on the sides of her waist, "That sounds nice."
"It is," She nods once again "But marrying you sounds a little bit better, I would say."
"Just a little bit?"
"Just a little bit," She coos, kissing the tip of his nose "This place is a bit hard to top, I am very fond of tonight."
"Me too," He smiles "So is that a yes then?"
She raised an eyebrow, "I didn't hear any question I should be saying a yes to."
Sirius' grin goes even wider that it practically hurts his cheeks but his heart was full. He's never felt any more loved than now and he sure would never want to risk losing this. Whatever storm they might need to weather in the future, knowing that marrying her would be the first thing they'd do once the sun comes back up, would forever be enough for Sirius to give the day another chance.
"My Darling, Sweetheart," he calls endearingly, tucking the few strands of her hair behind her ear "Would you marry me?"
#sirius black#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black imagine#sirius black imagines#sirius black scenario#sirius black scenarios#sirius black fluff#sirius black blurb#sirius black x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x oc#sirius black x y/n
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Note: Meme, rant, Headcanon Yandere, One shot Yandere
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Even though my obsession with yanderes is just my favorite entertainment in my world of fanfics and ASMR so I can escape the reality where there is no one who loves me intensely and even fantasize my darkest desires without guilt, I'm feeling very stressed about life that I take. I barely sleep or even eat properly besides my precious coffee in the morning ☕ (I lost a lot of weight because of this, which is not normal).
So, deep in my heart, I wonder what it's like to have a yandere in real life who was so obsessed with me that I was his priority and treated my health and well-being as if it were the most precious thing he needed to take care of. .
So, if he sees my current situation, I think he would go crazy 🤭
Dude, I almost passed out at school because I hadn't eaten or slept in days, besides, I study during the day so and I'm still doing an internship, I'm definitely going to end up being admitted. I think he needs to come help me immediately
Do you also feel tired and needy? So here's a Yandere Headcanon for you 🫵
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Paternal/maternal and obsessive yanderes who are shocked when they discover that you are slowly killing yourself (or rather, have stopped taking care of yourself) and see that your mental and physical health is eroding because of the life you have decided to lead
Paternal/maternal and obsessive yanderes who see no other option and now they themselves will have to take care of you for you, and so, they finally decide to kidnap you.
Paternal/maternal and obsessive yanderes will make you completely dependent on them for your new life routine and even your basic needs. This means that they will bathe you themselves, dress you in comfortable and climate-appropriate clothes, cook and feed you in your mouth, make you take medicines and vitamins, take you punctually to medical appointments, blood tests and therapies (or perhaps they will do the exams themselves). Oh! Don't forget the main thing, lots of love and affection even if you refuse ♥️
Paternal/maternal and obsessive yanderes who will suffocate you with lots of affection, kisses and hugs, or at least, will try to demonstrate their great love for you in soft and attentive touches, looks and ears that are totally helpful to what you do and will talk to you every night how special you are to them, how precious you are
Paternal/maternal and obsessive yanderes that after 3 months of extreme care, he finally feels more comfortable letting you do your basic needs alone, but with their supervision, but you will still continue to live with him, you will only be able to leave for a while limited and will not allow you to do something that is not good for your health such as sleeping late, eating a lot of junk, accidentally hurting yourself, walking barefoot, otherwise he will go crazy once again and the whole childcare routine will start all over again
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Everything is so peaceful, my body feels relaxed and fresh as if I had taken a delicious bath and received a massage right after. As I lie in a soft bed, on warm, clean duvets and pillows in a silent, soft environment that smells like chamomile (when was the last time I cleaned my room?), everything made me stay in the position I'm in for hours and with eyes closed to relax in this very pleasant moment, maybe I should even go back to sleep.
For a small moment, I seem to have finally escaped my daily problems and routine, as that infernal alarm clock hasn't gone off yet... wait, where am I?!!!!!!!!
I finally realized why everything is so good...
"Good morning, sweetie. How's my sweetie feeling?" The stranger appeared at the bedroom door, which had been open the entire time, and walked towards me subtly as if approaching a fragile and injured animal. Soon, he sat on the side of the bed I was on and placed one of his warm, wet hands on my forehead.
"Your body temperature is normal, your face looks healthier, and your dark circles are gone. It seems like you rested very well, I feel so relieved!" Giving a sigh of satisfaction, and then he placed a kiss on my forehead with that same hand gently grabbing my chin with his thumb on mine. He kept his loving, soft gaze on me.
"Where am I?" My question was automatic, I didn't know if I remained paralyzed or jumped out of bed to run towards the bedroom door that had been open the whole time, suspecting that he was watching me since I was still sleeping, or was already prepared to attack me. rock when I finally woke up.
It wouldn't do any good anyway, since he would have locked all exit access to the outside and would already be prepared for any attack or kidnapping outbreak.
"You are in my house, or rather in our sweet and cozy home that I have prepared for us for the rest of our lives from now on."
"H-What do you mean? What's this story?"
"It's for your own good, Sweetheart, I couldn't bear to see my baby having such a hard and unfair life on the outside..."
"You should't..."
"No, honey, it's YOU who shouldn't do this to me. I believed that you could be independent and take care of yourself while I finished all the plans for us to have the dream life when we could finally move away from this society and all the tiring life and stressful while I would take care of everything to support and protect our home and you would be my beautiful homely wife and totally spoiled by me." He paused, panting after his harsh speech, and slowly calming down. Now, his welcoming expression now seemed like a frightening and overbearing father/mother. "But after I saw you killing yourself to have a minimally comfortable life, I will have to take this position and you will live the life I prepared for you and me from now on."
So, he got up, walked out of the room and then, within a few seconds, came back with a bowl of soup, glass of water and pills all on a tray. I was too shocked to react.
"Your stomach must be empty after you slept so much and ingested all the sedative I gave you." Sitting once again on the bed, now, even closer as he places the tray carefully on his lap, his right hand taking my cheese again with his thumb on my cheek with a firmer grip and the other hand dipping the spoon into the vegetable soup and lifting it towards me. His loving and welcoming gazes were even more intense.
"Now, my Sweetheart, be obedient and open your mouth ♥️"
➳❃ ➳❃ ➳❃ ➳❃ ➳❃ ➳❃ ➳❃ ➳❃ ➳❃
Note: Don’t forget to drink lots of water and get plenty of rest 😉
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