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supernaturallyobsessedchic · 4 years ago

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Emergency! Part 1

Part 1 – Plane Crash

Summary: Dean and Cas are partners at Fire Station 51’s paramedic squad and are responding to their first of many. A plane crashes into an apartment complex, multiple fire stations respond to put out the fire and rescue any victims trapped. But RN, Y/N Y/L/N, happens to live in the very complex involved in the plane crash. Though unharmed, she commits her time to aid and assist in the victims coming out of the building and the plane. The rescue turns sideways on Dean when a beam drops onto Dean, damaging his oxygen tank, he quickly turns into a victim as he quickly succumbs to smoke inhalation and becomes Y/N’s patient.

Warnings: Mild angst (relationship), slight language, fluff?

Square: Firefighter!AU ( @supernatural-jackles Tell me a story Bingo)

Word Count: 1,784

Mobile Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: DOA = Dead on Arrival. Y/L/N = Your last name. But I hope you guys enjoy!

She got up at her usual time of 5am to be at the hospital by 6:30am.

Not much of a coffee drinker, she just got her a mug filling up with soda, the soda being her caffeine for the day.

She got into her scrubs, grabbing her nametag, pens and her personal notepad.

Ready to hit the road before traffic begins to pick up on the freeway in Los Angeles, she grabs her wallet, phone and keys she locks up to leave for her day at work as a Registered Nurse at Rampart emergency hospital.

Just as she got to the street to her car, there was a loud noise growing louder. She looked in the direction of the noise to see a plane, crash landing into her own apartment complex.

Ducking beside her car at the impact of the plane she was also thankful for her timing.

Quickly she dials 9-1-1.

Dean got up at his usual time of 4 in the morning to begin his 24-hour shift at the station.

Dean is a paramedic and squad member at station 51.

He pulled his truck into the parking lot, still trying to wake up.

His partner was already there.

“Cas, do you ever sleep man?” Dean asked.

“Slept on the couch again.”

“Are you and Hannah okay?”

“No, we had a big fight again last night. I don’t know what I can do for her anymore.” Cas says, defeated.

“Just end things man, you need sleep, and you need some peace of mind. I got room at my house for a roommate if you need a place.”

“Thanks Dean, but I already had plans of ending things with Hannah, last night was just the nail in the coffin of yet another failed relationship.”

“She failed it man, you did nothing wrong.” Dean encouraged.

“Thanks man.”

Dean offered a kind smile and a pat on Cas’s shoulder.

“Ready for another long shift?” Cas asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, my dad here yet?”

“Yeah, he’s in the office why?”

“Wonder if he got the invite to Sam and Jess’s wedding.”

“Bought damn time that kid popped the question honestly.”

“I know, he and Jess dated for what seemed like forever.”

“You really think they’re still sore at each other, I mean John of all people should know he can’t control what his kids want to do.”

“Yeah, I don’t know, that’s why I was gonna ask if he got it.”

Cas nods.

“I saw you put in for a three-day weekend, what’s going on?”

“Just wanting to take a trip out to the campgrounds outside of town to the family cabin, Dad says the deck could use some work and I was gonna kill two birds with one stone. Camp out and help dad fix up the deck.”

“That sounds cool.”

The fire stations alarm sounded.

“Truck 27, squad 27, engine 47, squad 47, Engine 51, squad 51, structure fire at Purgatory Apartments 1366 south Millard Ave.”

“Lots of trucks and engines responding, must be big.” Cas states. Jumping into action.

“Must be.” Dean says running to the squad truck, jumping into the driver seat, Cas jumping into the passenger.

Dean turned the keys in the ignition, roaring the Ford Truck to life, and turning on the lights and siren. Heading out onto the road, with the firetruck, Engine 51 following behind.

“This is RN Y/N Y/L/N, I have multiple victims at 1366 Millard Ave. A plane crashed. 3 already DOA, I need help right away.” She says into the phone.

“We’re working on it; we already have multiple firestations responding to your location. Just keep aiding in the victims as best as you can Ms. Y/L/N.” dispatch for 9-1-1 says.

She continued chest compressions on a victim and did 2 rescue breaths. And checked his pulse, still no change.

She sat her phone off of her shoulder and on the ground, so she could focus on reviving the victim.

One more attempt at cpr, she checks his pulse, still no change. Placing his hands over his chest, she says a silent prayer.

“I’m sorry.” She tells the people watching over her as she worked.

“Where is your help?” a lady asked furiously.

“They’re on the way, LA Is a large ass city, and you know how traffic is in this town.” She says.

She was already frustrated with the losses she didn’t need an attitude from anyone.

The sound of wailing sirens in the distance brought relieve to the nurse as she worked tirelessly on the victims.

Engine and squad 27 and 47 being the first on the scene.

“There are people trapped in the buildings, and there were about 45 passengers on this flight. 4 are DOA so far.” Y/N stated to the captain of the two fire stations as they approached her.

“Alright, I’ll send my guys in.” Captain of station 27 stated.

“I’ll let the other stations as they come in to assist.” Captain of station 47 stated.

Another fire engine’s siren wailed as it approached.

The men jumping into action.

“Winchester!” the captain of station 47 shouts as he approached engine 51.

“What do we got?”

“Unknown number of victims trapped in the complex, 45 passengers or so from the plane. 4 of them were DOA. Oh, and she’s a nurse, thought I’d mention that she could help us out.”

“Right,” John Winchester, captain of station 51 agreed.

“Alright guys, we got to work fast, there are people trapped in these two buildings, we need to clear them out. Tran, get the engine ready so we can use the hose. Gabe, and Michael, work on the fire with the other stations, Benny, Raph, and Charlie, aide the paramedics, either from 27, 47 or Dean and Cas, we need to save as many as we can, alright?”

“Yes sir.”

“Get to it.”

Everyone went to where they were instructed to. Dean and Cas got their equipment from their truck and went into one of the buildings, full fire fighter gear.

“Dean!” John called out.

Dean stops, giving John his attention.

“Be safe in there son.”

“I will dad. Don’t worry.” He says, running in.

There were a good handful of people able to move and get to safety on their own, and another handful Dean and Cas had to carry out of the building.

One woman, sprained ankle from trying to escape hastily, as Cas carried her out she nearly flew out of the man’s arms.

“My daughter, she’s in her room!” she cries out.

“I’ll get her, Cas, get her out of here.”

Cas nods, doing as told.

Dean inspected the rooms, finding a seven-year-old girl, hiding beside her bed covered in a wet blanket.

“Hey, I’m Dean, I’m gonna get you out of here.”

The girls nods.

Dean kept a protective arm around her as they exited her room.

A beam creaked, and gave way above Dean, hitting his back.

He heard a loud pop, like a large pop can exploding.

He found it hard to breathe through his oxygen mask.

Taking off his mask and tank he saw rupture in his tank.

“Shit.” He hissed.

His lungs were quickly taken over by the smoke, he started coughing immediately.

He noticed the girl was already gone.

He tried to get up to hurry and save himself but he felt a sharp pain in the back of his leg.

He looked behind him, he saw the beam pinning him down by his leg.

Overcome by the coughing, his world began to turn black.

Y/N finished placing a splint on the womans ankle when a child ran up to her and the group of firemen.

“Jamie! Baby!” her mother cried out, holding her arms out to her daughter.

“Mommy!” she cried.

“Where’s Dean?” Cas asked.

“A beam fell down and knocked him down. He’s stuck.” She says.

Without another word exchanged Cas took off to the apartment they rescued the woman.

The fire was slowly getting under control and it was easier to see inside the apartments. Cas was able to spot Dean out in the apartment easily.

He laid on his stomach, still and unmoving. Cas can see the beam pinning against Dean’s thigh.

He saw the beam was not supporting much of anything. He ran out, seeing Michael carrying an axe.

“Mikey, I need that!” Cas shouted.

“What’s up?”

“Dean’s stuck.”

Michael ran towards Cas and he saw Dean, inspected the beam. Saw the same as Cas, the beam not being much of importance to the structure, he begins working on breaking the beam in half.

The wood was badly damaged by the fire, he was able to break it in three strong hits.

Once he was free, Cas picked Dean up and carried him out over his shoulder fireman carry style.

Once he reached the nurse, she prepared an area she could work on Dean.

“Is he breathing?”

“He didn’t have his mask on, the tank was damaged.” Cas answered.

“More than likely smoke inhalation, lay him here and I’ll start working on him.

He did as told, laying him flat on his back.

She checked his pulse, and breathing, matching up to the fireman’s statements. And began chest compressions.

After 35 chest compressions she gave 2 rescue breaths. And checked his breathing, he’s breathing but it was shallow.

She placed on an oxygen mask over his mouth.

After ten minutes or so of the mask being on him, he began having a coughing fit as the air returned back to his lungs.

“He’s gonna be okay but we need to get him to the hospital, need to check out that leg.” Y/N said.

The men and women of station 51 nodded, agreeing with the nurse.

Later that night as she made her rounds, she walked into Dean’s room.

“Good evening Mr. Winchester, how are you feeling today?”

“Sore.”

“That’s expected having a beam pin your leg down, and the smoke inhalation.”

“You saved my life, thank you, Miss….”

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. And it’s no big deal, all part of the job.”

“Right, saving people.”

“The family business.”

“You’re family work here?”

“Yeah, my mom was head nurse at this very hospital, and my dad was a neurologist here. I was basically born and raised here.”

“Nice, my dad’s captain of station 51.”

“Awesome. But other than that, no pain at the moment, you don’t need anything?”

“No, just a number.”

She smirked, with a nod.

Writing on her notepad, her number. She ripped the paper out, handing it to him.

“Call me sometime, Winchester.”

He held the paper, unable to hide the wide grin.

“Definitely will.” He says as she walks out, continuing her shift.

Are you excited yet? I’m posting as I write this, probably a bad idea, but story of my life. Like what I got so far? Let me know, ask, reblog. Feedback is fuel. :3

Dean girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @mlovesstories, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @jeaniespiehs20, @akshi8278, @lyarr24

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 3/18/2021

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dracjoonie · 5 years ago

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{Dither} Yoongi / Producer!Reader {Chap.1:Ctrl+z}

⥂𝚃̲𝚊̲𝚐̲𝚜͢ : Idol!Yoongi x Producer!Reader, fluff, mild angst, eventual smut, slow burn, reluctant friends to lovers. ⥂𝚂̲𝚞̲𝚖̲𝚖̲𝚊̲𝚛̲𝚢͢ : You’re an independent producer working to make your big breakthrough whilst trying to keep your creative integrity when you become acquainted with someone you never thought you could work with. ⥂𝙰̲/̲𝙽͢ : Once again I’m incapable of writing an OC that isn’t tsundere af, good thing they have something in common~ ⥂𝚆̲/̲𝙲͢ : 3399

You had a feeling the day would be eventful, but not like this. You thought maybe you would get a few killer tracks finished, maybe pop out of the house for some much needed air, and that would be it. But now you were sat at your desk, cellphone in hand, debating on how to reply to the message you had been spacing out over for the past ten minutes.

“There’s this big event happening tonight. I’m not sure who’s hosting the party, but a bunch of A list celebrities in the music scene are gonna be there. It would be a great networking opportunity for you, I think you should go. I know a few people who are going that are dying to work with you, and you seriously need to get out more..”

A message from a colleague of yours; Aida, who’s probably right. But that didn't make the thought of venturing out into such a crippling social climate any more tempting. So your options were: stay home and continue working and hope you hit another breakthrough and make a lot of money. Or, go out and find other artists to potentially work with and inevitably make even more money... Decisions.. You weren’t going to make that much as just a producer if you didn’t aim higher and work with bigger artists, but your quaint life now was nothing to complain about either.

Rather than stare at your now black phone screen for any longer, you opted for tossing it aside to continue working for another ten minutes before you would decide. But your plans were thwarted when you saw your phone screen flashing with another message. You tisked before picking it up, needing to know what she said next despite your tendency to not actually reply back.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Another text.

“”Why go out when I could just not?” But I’m serious. Your name is already out there in the music scene, they know your work. You just need to go out there and meet people. Your work is unique, you need to stop squandering your potential by being such a shut in.”

“Well damn.” You typed the words quickly into your messenger before hitting send, leaning back in your desk chair to watch the little dots that signaled she was typing something back.

“So, will you go?”

“I guess. Since now you’ve wounded my pride and all.” You hit send and continued typing.

“When and where”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll pick you up at 9, ok? Just wear something cool and I’ll handle the rest.”

You sighed before tossing your phone down where you had previously. It was only 5pm so at least you had time for your original plans for the day. It wasn’t like you weren’t grateful to her for dragging you out all the time, the results were always in your favor. You just found it bothersome how little notice she would grant you. But it was probably just her knowing that giving you more time would just mean more time for you to slither your way out.

You loved the work you did, you just wished that working on bigger songs that reached more people didn’t require actually talking to them.. An email would suffice, a phone call maybe. Only meeting in the studio for recordings or to finalize the finished product, but again that could be done just as smoothly with the big wall that is your desktop separating you from whoever it was you were working with. You just wanted to work, not have small talk, not get coffee and ramble on about whatever topics had nothing to do with the actual music you were working on. You just wanted to socialize enough to solidify a concept; build a track to represent it, record it, and wrap it up with a fresh new bow to be released to the public. Simple, or so you thought.

It might be important and beneficial to get to know who you were working with for other people, but for you it just cramped your creativity. Its harder to think when you have someone leaning over you and giving input; good input sure, but input on a track you weren’t anywhere finished with wasn’t helping. It was like backseat driving, ‘yeah I’ll switch lanes when I’m ready, just gimmy a sec, jeez’.

You shook it off as another inevitable occurrence, trying to think only of the positives. If what Aida was telling you was true; and A list musicians were actually going to be there, this could be huge for you. So far you had worked mostly with the more underground hip-hop and rnb scene, helping with a few breakthrough tracks here and there. That was enough for you, and by now you didn’t need to; or more so didn’t have time, to work on your own solo music. It was just for fun anyway, and you didn’t expect your own music to gain that much traction. You wouldn’t describe it as “palatable” to the average listener, it was all experimental. A commenter once described it as “ambient electronic wailing with a slow hip-hop beat”, and you liked that description well enough.

You clicked the spacebar on your computer and let the track you were working on replay through your speakers. But just like before, you saw your phone flashing.

“You better be getting ready.”

You grumbled before typing your reply.

“I have hours Aida, I’m working rn..”

You waited on her this time, not wanting to get interrupted again.

“And how long has it been since you’ve actually left the house? You must be tripping over your leg hairs by now. Get to weed wacking, you need to look fresh like your music. THIS IS A BIG DEAL.”

“It’s not that long, damn. Who is it I’m trying to impress anyway?”

“The word on the street is that BTS is going.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious! Idols y/n!”

“*Gasp* Oh my gOSh for reaLz?.. I’m not shaving for some rumored “ Idol party”. That’s not my gig anyway.”

“It could be if you’d actually try. And you already said yes so you’re going.”

“If this is true at all, how the hell are you getting us in?”

“I told you I would handle it. I was thinking you should wear that black tunic top you have.. The asymmetrical one with the hood? And leather pants! Gotta be leather.. I think heels might be trying too hard though..”

“You taking up styling now?”

“So you’ll go?”

“Sounds like I don’t have a choice anyway.”

“You don’t. See you at 7.”

𝟷̲𝟶̲:̲𝟸̲𝟹̲𝚙̲𝚖͢

Aida had her whole frame stretched across the middle console of the taxi she insisted on calling. Pointing frantically and shouting for the driver to turn in whatever wild directions she had to wherever it was she was taking you. You sat to the left of her, behind the driver's seat. Just watching the streetlights pass by. A palm drumming on your thighs to the beat in your head. Her loud voice was easy enough to ignore, but you were beginning to regret leaving with her. You had this bubbling anxiety growing in your chest; nothing too crippling, but you could feel it and it was growing more annoying the closer you got.

“Oh! There it is! It’s just up here on the left! You can drop us off out back, -let me find my wallet..”

You turned to where she pointed, not really having noticed what part of town you were in until now.

“A hotel..? Are you sure this is the right place..?”

“Yes! Its a 5 star hotel and it’s full of ballrooms they rent out for events like this. This is the real deal y/n, not some shoddy bar like you’re use to.”

You scoffed. “Well whatever, let’s just get this over with..”

“Stop being like that- Here you go, keep the change~” She started to scurry her way out of the backseat, fiddling around to get her wallet back into her purse. You followed, sliding across the seats towards the open car door.

You stepped out, gravel crunching under your boots. Aida was already booking it towards the back entrance. Her long curls tussling about behind her and bouncing with every step. You sped up,closing the distance from behind her.

“So what’s the plan? Just waltz in? There’s a bouncer.”

She hushed you before walking right up to the guy. He wasn’t anything intimidating, just tall.. Very tall, towering over her with zero effort.

“I’m sorry miss, if you’re here for a reservation with the hotel you’ll need to go through the front entrance. We have an event going on tonight.”

You took a step next to her, taking notice of the way the bouncers eyes lingered on you.

“I’m aware.” She giggled. “The event is what I-we’re here for.”

“U-hum-” He began, chuckling and looking down at her as if he was speaking to a confused little girl. “This is invite only, do you have an invite?”

“Nope. But I have her~” She chimed, leaning into you and tipping you to the side with her cheery smile and batted eyelashes. ‘This was your plan..?’

The guard merely cleared his throat and turned to you. “And do you have an invite?”

“Nope. Sorry to waste your time, we’ll be on our way now.” Your latched an arm around Aida to drag her away but she stopped you. Typical.

“Hey! Y/n! -This is Y/N Y/L/N. Aka. CenøByte.”

He glowered. Staring at Aida with dead eyes and towering doubt.

“That producer?.. Well that’s a new one, no one's pretended to be her before..”

“HaHA!-” She jumped up, clinging onto your shoulder with her pointy nails and shaking you back and forth. “I told you people know your name!”

“I know a lot of names. It’s part of the job, but I’m guessing you can’t prove this as your actual identity.”

You huffed a ‘correct’ before turning back around to leave.

“Y/N Don’t you dare! Show him your twitter or something.” You rolled your eyes making it very obvious that your irritation was directed to her and her alone, but continued to dig your phone out of your back pocket despite it all.

“Hold on... “ You opened the app and flipped it to your account page with your username and blue check clearly there. “Here.. I’m legit. -But this still isn’t an invite so I’ll gladly leave.”

He reached for your phone, squinting at the screen to verify.

“We’ll I’ll be damned. Hey, that one song you did with ___ was pretty dope. You know what?-” He handed your phone back and wrapped his long arms around to pull something out of his pocket. “I’m not supposed to do this, but I don’t see a real issue-” He leaned over you entirely now, pushing Aida out of the picture as he held a tiny black notepad in front of you.

“You sign this, and I’ll slip you an invitation.”

“Wait, for real..?” You deadpanned. Aida was already jumping for joy. “YES!! I KNEW THIS WOULD WORK!”

“Yeah. I’ve bounced a lot of parties by now, and I have a lot of autographs. But you? You’re so elusive I doubt anyone even knows what you look like. And you never show up to these things, The boss has even tried to invite you to a couple but no one knows your address-”

“I prefer emails...”

“- Right.. Anyway, an autograph from you’s probably pretty coveted.. Deal?”

You turned to Aida for input but she was practically screaming at you through telepathy. Her voice in your head already -’You better sign that before I beat you within an inch of your life.’

“Deal..” You stuttered out, grabbing the tiny notepad and pen from his hands and scribbling down your stage name. Something you had never been asked to do before.

“Well, here you go I guess..”

He hummed as he looked down at your scribbled writing.

“A little sloppy, you should work on that. Was this your first autograph?”

You reached up and grasped the back of your neck sheepishly before replying.

“Yeah, that obvious?”

“Yeah. But that’s ok-” His eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you. “-Just makes this more special. You two can head inside, just don’t forget you’re old pal here when you’re on magazine covers, ok?”

You gave him a weak smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He stepped aside and bowed just slightly to signal you inside. You pushed the door open; holding it and nodding for Aida to go in ahead of you. She did, a smug smile pulling at her features.

“Told you I had a plan.” She said matter of fact, swaying her long curls back and forth as she walked ahead of you down the corridor.

“You’re insane.. But what else is new.”

𝟷̲𝟶̲:̲𝟹̲𝟾̲𝚙̲𝚖͢

It was dark inside, barely lit by the ornate chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. A wide open space with several couches and a full bar that sat at the back side of the ballroom. It was filled with people, many of which you recognized from tabloids and music shows.

“Oh shit, you weren’t kidding.” You whispered, nudging Aida awkwardly.

She gasped dramatically, eyes glued on a man across the room.

“I think I found my future husband, gotta dash.” She took several steps away from you before you could react to her sudden outburst.

“Hey! Are you leaving me!?” She scoffed but turned back regardless.

“You’ll be fine, go be productive or something.”

You glowered as she made her way across the room, leaving you alone in the middle of so many strangers you didn’t want to have to deal with.

‘Should have guessed this would happen.’ You sighed, trying to ignore all the eyes you were now all too aware of. Alone and an intruder at such a high profile party, this wasn’t what you signed up for. You tried to ignore the way your chest began to tighten while making a B-line for the bar. If you had to deal with this situation you at least wanted to be happily intoxicated.

You took a seat at one of the open bar stools, closest to the wall, and tapped your nails against the counter as you waited for the bartender to acknowledge your presence. He was busy with several other guests and that was understandable, you nodded in appreciation when he signaled to you that he would be over when he was free. You tried your best to relax, swiveling your seat around so that you could lean against the wall and observe the room. You could see Aida already flirting shamelessly with the man she had spotted earlier. He looked familiar; real handsome and tall, but you couldn’t place where you had seen him before. You could almost hear her girlish giggle from over the music and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. You moved on, glancing about the many faces around the room. It was such a versatile mix. Idols, singers, a few actors you even knew. You spotted a couple of men you thought you recognized from Got7 but weren’t involved enough to know for sure, much less their names. No BTS though, they would be hard to miss with how many billboards and TV appearances you had seen them on. But you could gloat to Aida about how wrong she was on that later.

You sighed again.

This really wasn’t your scene. What was she expecting you to do here anyway? Find an artist you were compatible with and work together? Was anything ever that simplistic? You didn’t know these people and they sure as hell didn’t know you, and starting conversations with strangers wasn’t exactly your strong suit. You had half a mind to just up and leave when someone grabbed your attention. A man slumped into the stool next to yours, waving the bartender over immediately. That already gave you a twinge of frustration. There were plenty of seats not next to you, and you were clearly waiting first.

“Never seen you before.”

You hummed in reply.

“Who are you?” His tone was so dry it gave you the urge to just ignore him and move on. Instead you bit back your annoyance; this wasn’t the place to be such a hot fuse.

“Does it matter?”

“Ya. Kinda. Should you even be here?”

“Probably not.” He lifted a brow at you before taking a slow sip of his whisky.

“Then how the hell did you get in?”

“I signed an autograph.” You spoke plainly, not wanting to elaborate.

He raised a skeptical brow.

“Who’s?”

“My own?”

He hummed and nodded before taking another slow sip.

“Are you really not going to tell me your name?”

“Its CenøByte. Doesn’t change much, does it?’

“ CenøByte ?”

You tilted your head down in a nod.

“Are you.. That producer?”

“Well yeah. What, is there someone else with that name? Dang, and I thought I was original.”

He scoffed at you just as the bartender was coming back around.

“We’ll I’d sure hope not. You really need an upgrade.”

You caught yourself mid eye roll as you moved to give your order. The bartender gave you a bright customer service smile before leaning in.

“-Sorry hun, what’ll you have.” You cringed at the name.

“Just a whisky.” His face fell.

“Oh, I’m sorry! No can do -I just poured the last of it. Is there anything else I can get you?” Of course. ‘What kind of idol party isn’t fully stocked anyway..’

You sighed. “A bourbon then.”

“You’ve got it!” He smiled again before dipping away to make your last resort option. You glanced back at the man next to you, him eyeing you knowingly. Glass of whisky in hand.

“Sorry- “

“-Don’t. And what is your stage name anyway, since you think mine is so outdated.” You quipped, drumming your fingers against the counter impatiently as you waited.

There was a look in his dark eyes that you couldn’t quite read.

“You crash a high profile party and you don’t even know the guests? Cute. So whatever could you be here for then, hm?”

If he wasn’t already getting on your last nerve, he certainly was now. But you played the game anyway. After all, Aida did want you to socialize. No one said you need to be nice about it.

“The whisky of course, but we know how that went.”

There was something familiar about his smile, sly but sweetened by his soft features. Something about his hair too, the way he had the underneath shaved but his long bangs swept just along his brow. You were sure you'd seen him on tv before but you couldn’t place where or with who. Not that it matter to you anyway, he stole your whisky so therefore he was irrelevant.

“Then I guess you’ll be leaving soon.”

“Oh gosh, am I bothering you? I heard all you Idol types were assholes behind the scenes but this is truly something.” The words came out before you could stop yourself. Thankfully the bartender came with your drink and a little straw you didn’t much need. He set the glass down in front of you, giving you a smile and a wink before he rushed back over to his other guests.

“If you don’t know my stage name, how do you know I’m an idol?” You met his playful gaze with laxed irritation.

“You’re right.-” Your smirked, stirring your bourbon before looking him dead in the eye to continue. “You’re too scrawny to be an idol.” The way his jaw dropped in shock made your night, him nodding as he took another sip.

“Ok bitch, damn. Maybe that should be your stage name.” His tone was playful despite his words, and it managed to make you smile for the first time in a long while. There was a glint in his eyes when he regarded you. His name was right on the tip of your tongue..

You downed the rest of your bourbon before speaking again.

“Bitch, huh? Soo creative. You must be a producer.”

“I am.. Among other things.” Another sip.

His name had to be something short. Something catchy. Something with an A in it? Maybe a D?

“And my stage name is Suga, for the record.”

Yikes.

⥂𝙰̲/̲𝙽̲-̲𝟸͢: Hope this was somewhat enjoyable ^.^ , I’ve had ideas for this fic for a long time now so I figured now was a good time to start posting it. And any feedback/interaction would be much appreciated <3

#Yoongi x reader #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfiction #idol au #bts fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi #suga #drajoonie #dither #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts reactions

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