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Katsuki handles you extremely gently for the most part, which is why when you find yourself at the tail end of play-wrestling in the midday on Saturday, wrists bound together in a firm, one-handed grasp and a leg locked against him at the hip, youâre a bit surprised. Your lips form into a soft âoâ as you let out a pant; conversely, his breathing is still, having not exerted very much effort, but you can practically feel his heart pound in his chest.
Or possibly itâs wishful thinking, given the way your own heart races.
Katsuki pauses for a moment, then dips in close, kissing your forehead.
âHad enough?â he asks.
âWhat if I said no?â you quip. In reply, his face buries in the crook of your neck and he snorts softly.
âWhy donât we make love, not war?âÂ
Youâd admonish him on the cheesiness of the statement, but you donât have the energy to. By now, Katsuki has relaxed his hold on your wrists and your leg, but you let your thighs and calves find new positioning wrapped around his waist as he lowers his weight onto you. Heâs heavy, but itâs a familiar, comfortable heaviness that keeps you warm.
âDonât like roughhousing with you,â he murmurs softly, still unmoving. Your bodies breathe in and out together, and you let yourself hold him even closer, hooking your left arm around his neck gently and running your right through his hair.Â
Perhaps somewhere this is another form of a wrestling lock, but youâre decidedly loving, letting fingers trace between the blonde spikes to scratch his scalp.
Katsuki appreciates your softness just as much as your feistiness at times, and perhaps the former he needs a little more at this time.
You lay together for a moment, remembering when you sparred for real once years ago while at UA, and how quickly he folded.
Perhaps you cheated, you think as you conjure up the memory.
âŚ
Paired together for sparring despite your friendsâ apprehensive looks, you take up the challenge gladly. Light on your feet, the two of you move in concert towards and away from each other quickly as you trade blows - a narrow dodge of a punch with a sidestep. You grab his hand, and Katsukiâs surprise emboldens you as you plant your foot firmly on the ground and use your momentum to throw him over your shoulder.
Collective gasps abound from your watching classmates as Katsuki hits the ground, hard. You smile once heâs quick to jump back to his feet, wider still as he grumbles out loud.
âYouâre so goddamn sneaky.â
He resumes a fighting stance. The ring is relatively small, a chalky circle about 8 bodies in diameter, but he still hasnât fallen out of bounds. Red-faced, heâs lunged at you again (Izuku in the crowd comments that he must be more upset that he canât use his quirk than the fight itself) and you sidestep him once more before tripping him. He loses his balance just for a moment, but jumps back into a back handstand then rights himself.Â
He does look like heâs getting his ass kicked, but your friend heckles him first with the truth.
âHeâs blinded by love, go easy on him!â
Aizawa shoots her a disapproving look, and your cheeks warm, but you donât let yourself get distracted. You wonât know how right she is until later, anyway.
Time elapses - you block another heavy roundhouse kick that causes you to skid but you stay standing as you brace for impact, your heels digging into soft ground.
âI told you I wonât ever go easy on you,â Katsuki hisses.Â
He follows this up with a leg sweep that has you tumble over him, and you somersault to regain control, but Katsuki has your leg by the ankle, pulling until you dangle for a moment, but you land a punch straight into his gut despite your upside down position.
Your friend screams again to âget his ass!â amongst your classmates and gets another look from Aizawa.Â
But Katsuki has let go with the force of the shock and you shoot backwards and prepare for an axe kick. He blocks, but for a split second he loses his resolve - the look on your face is fierce, and he remembers exactly why he has a crush on you.
The two of you jump back and separate to the opposite sides of the ring.
âIf you donât get serious, youâll lose,â you tease.
âIâm going easy on you,â he finally claims, gruffly.
âYou literally said otherwise 15 seconds ago.â
An ooooooo runs through the crowd that makes him scowl, and he takes off again with another lunge. You block, a move that makes Shoto shake his head at the bad choice, and you skid backwards from the sheer power behind the punch, making it almost closer to the borders of the ring. The subsequent onslaught is hard and youâre about to make it out of bounds.
Until you try a desperate move.
Leaning forward suddenly as if you were to kiss him, red blooms on his face, and he immediately backs off.
Izuku cups his face in his palms.
A leapfrog jump over him and a slight push, and heâs out of the ring, having fallen flat on his ass.
Denki, Sero and Kirishima donât let him live it down for hours.
âŚ
You definitely did cheat.
And perhaps in a way you are now, because heâs putty in your hands as he melts into you.Â
But youâre no longer fighting, whether playful or not - teeth, tongue, lips donât clash but rather dance and glide together; fingers and palms caress and worship each other in your joint embrace.
No power struggle between you two to be found anywhere - if anything perhaps in a way, youâve always had the upper hand, being fully adored by him.
Regardless of how much stronger he is than you, whether it is in physical ability or will or resolve, heâd still very easily and consistently succumb to your love.
#katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#pro hero dynamight x reader#daydreams: bnha#mimi's notes
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Control
warnings : black chubby reader. plug!ony and sukuna. both men are also BISEXUAL! no established relationship. bxb kissing, vaginal sex, oral (m). overstim, smoking blunts, car sex, breeding kink thatâs not really mentioned. unprotected sex! cumming on face, cream pie, squirting. iâm done i think!
a fun night out had now led you to sitting in the backseat, while the two men sat in front of you ignoring your existence. you had pissed them off ten fold, and now could only watch as they passed a blunt back and fourth to one another. âso explain this shit to me again maâma.â onyâs icey voice broke through the air making your legs push together. âw-well you guys werenât answeri,-â you bit your lip when sukuna chuckled at your lame excuse. stepping out of the car and swiftly moving to the back with you.
ony ignored you both smoking his blunt, and nodding his head to the beat of the music. he looked through the rearview to see your dress bunched up, and you arched against his expensive seats which caused him to smirk shaking his head. âlying assâ sukuna mumbled, slapping his cock on your sticky fat lips groaning at your warmth. âjust tell us the truth beautiful, you wanted some fuckin attention- ssss.â he hissed slamming deep into you, your wetness dripping down your thighs and your hand sliding down the window while you moaned.
âo-ohmygoddâ your vision was blurred with starts, sukuna pounding your cunt fast. âwhoâs are you?â throughout your time with both ony and sukuna you all never had a label. but you knew deep down you were theirs, and maybe you did know they would see you on your date tonight. you were so immersed with moaning, telling sukuna not to stop, the feeling of his thick cock fucking your walls silly; untill you felt the cool breeze of the door being opened in front of you. âhold her slut ass up suk.â sukunaâs large hand wrapped around your throat bringing you back to his chest. you cried at how much deeper he went into you, a small imprint in your tummy that ony lightly tapped getting settled in his seat.
it seemed like you blinked and onyankoponâs cock was springing to life over his design jeans making your mouth water. sukuna grunted in your ear murmuring how you knew what do you, and you did. with shaky hand your gripped ony, spitting on his tip and watching it fall down all his veins and curve. his cock jerking in your much smaller hand, right before you engulfed him chocking when he hit the back of your throat. the pain of the gag but the nasty sounds coming from you three had your toes curling in your six inch heels. ony hands gripping your braids and controlling how your deep throated him. spit and cum all over your face. your pussy clenched against sukuna, cream decorating his cock as if you were making your claim.
above you, sukuna watched onyankopop with low eyes. he bit his lips spreading your ass cheeks, his body slapping against your skin while both men made eyes contact. ony began to buck into you, holding your head down and leaned over to connect his lips to sukuna. a quick peck turned into both men tonguing one another down; and all you were left with was hearing their lips lock. your shut your eyes dazing our by how good every felt, sukuna bite onyankpopons bottom lip moving back when you pushed at his stomach. the feeling of you having to pee feeling so strong. shaking his head he sukuna held your arm. âyou can take it babyâ
ony let your head go making your raise up, âp-pleaseeeee!â you cried in embarrassment as you fell into onyâs lap your arch gone and finally letting go, squirting everywhere that left them both in awe. sukunaâs pumps grew sloppy quick making your body shake, and ony jerked his cock while hold your head up making a mess on your face as his ropes shot out. you tried catching what you could but you knew ony liked it messy. sukuna filled your cunt full. staying in you to make sure you lose nothing.
#â writings!#onyankopon x chubby reader#onyankopon x reader#onyankopon x black reader#onyankopon smut#ony x black reader#ony x reader#ony smut#sukuna ryoumen x black reader#sukuna ryoumen smut#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna x chubby reader#sukuna smut#aot x black reader#aot x reader#aot smut#jjk x black reader#jjk x chubby reader#aot x chubby reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#attack on titan smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#anime x chubby reader#anime smut#anime x black!reader
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likelookingatthings Go full metal alchemist ford!
greycoffeethe amount of angst an AU like this can create... dang i need this as a fic so bad
ilikelookingatthings@greycoffee The fact when you commented this so I told my sister and she isn't even in the gravity falls fandom...yet immediately pingponged alternate ways a full mental alchemist gravity falls fic au could go.
Stan as Edward whose brother's body was lost like al as a parallel to ford accidentally getting sucked in the portal and how stan was burned with a reminder.
. The burning house losing identity parallel to not turn back til he gets his brother back. A version where ford's soul was lost but not his body and Stan gets punched in that white void like when Ed sees his brother.A version where like normal full mental fird is in a suit like al and lost his body.
A version where Stan has to pretend to be his alchemist brother but can't do alchemy...just conning his way into people believing it.
How you coukd mix different aspects together. Professor Markov with his research and paranoia similar to ford. How maybe they tried to mess with a taboo. Like maybe they were trying to bring someone back....or maybe ford got tricked by the hulunculi becayse ifvhisctendency to push boundaries in research bht realized he went too far or something..aspect of government conspiracies and how the philosophers stone also connects gold/wealth which stan was obsessed with.
Even brought up a thought if a Stanford stanely parallel with greed and the prince. And a unending options defending on what ratio you lean toward .
Greycoffe@ THESE ARE SUCH GOOD IDEAS HOLY SHIT?? like another idea I got from one of yours is Dip&Mab being Ed&Al and after trying to bring back their dead loved one, have to move in with Stan (this version's Pinako) who's taking care of Pacifica (can be someone else, but I thought she'd be a cute love interest for either twin).
greycoffee i really enjoyed reading your ideas but I cannot for the love of me write out a fully fleshed out fic bc I'm already writing other AUs đ (i shall keep this in my notes however :3)
Ford could possibly be someone like Hohenheim with Bill being the homunculus in the flask, etc etc
ilikelookingatthings@greycoffee Ooooh that's fun! Cuz Pacifica abd windy are blonde..also some potential if she represents king Bradley's kid. What with her family being rich and the theme of corruption of rich government people. There is also the option of what if Stan if Stan is the alchemist teacher.....
ooooh or if dipper and Mabel represent Edward while stan is al.Personally off arc I'd picture her as from the north fortress from the Armstrong family.
or that guy with a mustache from the mining town who gets overthrown by the siblings meddling who gets caught up in shenegans and petty talks of revenge but who slowly gets a arc if being a better person.
Huh...just realized Pacifica could also be greed, the prince or Mei since her sense of importance and need to make her family happy and her struggle to understand friends.
Want to throw out there fiddleford could be doctor Markov. And for fun and not for real...Barry the butcher as stan.
Though if Pacifica is winry would that make that ghost who hates her family scar? Though if she's a Armstrong would that make sloth the ghost?
Honestly I get the feeling. I'm so behind on getting through my fanfiction tabs the thought of writing myself even when I have ideas to chew on can feel like too much at times.
I'm gonna reblog this conversation. See if anyone else wants to chew on this bone.
Extra thought...stanley and fird as Riza and mustang considering the trying to become mayor plot line and who we knkw gets injured in the end.
Also a funny imagine is while adjusting ages xan wirk...just imagine all the characters the same age in gravity falls and things get ten times more hilarious (or sad depending) cuz the government has a bunch of kid employees running things. Just imagine old stan and ford as the elric Brothers while the kid superiors are dipper and Mabel.
Was inspired by this
Ford "Icarus didn't flap hard enough" Pines
#gravity falls#gravity falls au#stanford pines#stanley pines#frankenstein/ghost au#Full metal alchemist#fullmetal alchemist#full metal alchemis brotherhood#Edward elric#Alphonso elric#The pine Brothers#dipper pines#Mabel pines#Pine twins#I Caruso#Mystery#Barry the butcher#Scar#King Bradley#Pacifica
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since everyone is telling Buck to move on from Tommy, when they get back together (they go to coupleâs therapy and they put in all the work to make it work) Buck tries to keep it a secret.
but heâs too overjoyed to be normal. he gets into work smiling like an idiot, he spends all his time on his phone, he receives flowers from âa secret admirerâ once a week and he takes some time off to go on a romantic getaway.
Everyone obviously clocks this new person very quickly and everybody is super happy for him. Hen says âIâm glad you finally moved onâ and Eddie says âI liked Tommy but this new person is clearly good for youâ and Bobby wants to meet them but Buck says he wants to keep the relationship for himself a bit more
cue hilarious hijinks. They run into Hen at the grocery store and they only have one cart so Tommy pretends to read something from the nearest shelf and Buck hides in the frozen isle (Tommyâs reading tampons. He only notices when he hears âhey Tommy. Why are choosing tampons?â and he goes âuhhhh. Itâs for my cat. Itâs a femaleâ because soulmates).
Maddie shows up at his house unannounced and Tommy has to hide in the bathroom. She leaves Jee. Tommy is sure Jee doesnât remember him so he introduces himself to Jee as âCaseyâ so she wonât blow their cover but Jee says âbut youâre Mr. Tommy the pilot. You canât be Caseyâ.
Eddie finds out because they meet Tommy on a call and they try to play it so cool. Tommy says âGood morning Station 118â and Buck says âFirefighter Kinardâ in the coldest voice he can manage. and they think they fooled everyone because Chim comments âyikes. That was awkward!â. But when theyâre alone Eddie looks at Buck dead in the eyes and says âYouâre sleeping with himâ and Buck has to explain that no, itâs not just sex, theyâre actually in love and heâs pretty sure itâs forever.
anyway, they keep digging themselves deeper. at some point Buck implies he has a girlfriend to throw everyone off. Tommy keeps receiving horny DMs so he has to set his FB status to âIn a relationshipâ and everyone starts treating Buck like he just suffered a loss (Buck is so stupidly happy theyâre official on FB even if he stopped using it ten years ago). Eddie casually asks Buck âis Tommy done with the Chevrolet he was working on?â in front of everyone.
everyone figures it out at some point or another (Hen knew since he run into them at the grocery store, Jee started talking about wanting to becoming a pilot like Mr. Tommy the moment she got home, Bobby just knows because heâs Buckâs dad and also heâs Tommy neighbor and heâs pretty sure Buck moved in).
but they wait for Buck to come to them.
Bobby gets tired of waiting and eight months after Buck and Tommy got back together, says âyou know, you can bring Tommy on Saturday. Officially introduce him to the family. Again.â and Buck starts laughing hysterically and says âwhat. Iâm not with Tommy. I donât know Tommy. Who even is this Tommy youâre talking aboutâ and then realizes everyone is smiling and looking at him and Hen takes his hand and says âBuck. Itâs okay. We like Tommy. As long youâre happyâ and Buck gets all smiley and says âIâm happy. He makes me so happyâ and then they all hug.
they arrive at Saturdayâs bbq holding hands but Tommy is very tense because he thinks everybody hates him because he did break Buckâs heart. But heâs done therapy and heâd do anything to keep Buck this time so, before anyone can even say anything, he says âHi. I know you donât trust me and you donât have to like me. But youâre Buckâs family and your opinion is very important to us so I just ask you respect his choice to give me a second chanceâ and then Eddie says âcome here, you idiotâ and everyone hugs him and Buck looks at his family hugging his boyfriend with tears in his eyes and thinks that this is it. this is what heâs been looking for all these years. the secret to happiness.
#bucktommy#headcanon#Bucktommy fic#That i donât have the energy to make a fic#This is what Iâm gonna do from now fics and headcanon Iâm done with complaining#It makes me too sad
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á´á´Ąá´ Ęá´á´á´
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(Ęá´ę°á´ á´á´á´á´Ęá´É´ x ę°!Ęá´á´á´
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this is part two. for part one, click here!
pairing: rafe cameron x kook!f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20s)
word count:Â 4.4k
summary: rafe gives you an ultimatum, and in the setting sun, you see another
warnings: ANGST!!!!, pining/whipped reader, kook!reader & kook!rafe, suggestive but no outright smut, ultimatums, jj is alive, arguing, not proofread
a note: i'm sorry this is late!
please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!
*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďž*:シďžâ§
Were you being punished by your love for him?
You tried to move on, you really did. You tried everything you could think of, bar from ignoring Rafe all together. You had even joined a dating app, where you met a fellow Kook named Alexander, and you went on a few dates with him. He was a great guy, handsome, smart, and charming, but he wasnât Rafe. Alexander didnât draw your attention away from your best friend that you were hopelessly still in love with, even after trying to gaslight yourself into believing that you had a crush on him.
You kept Alexander around for a while. He was a fun guy, he paid for your little lunch or coffee shop dates, and he was a good fuck. You had lied and told him that you just werenât a very vocal girl in bed, but in reality you were biting your tongue to keep from moaning Rafeâs name into his ear. It had been a few weeks, and even after everything, Rafe was still the only person you thought of when you slipped your hands under your panties at night. You eventually started to feel bad about leading him on and tried to break things off amicably. He didnât take it well, but you didnât expect him to.
You had tried to distract yourself, going to party after party and club after club, making out with whatever guy you could get your hands on. But nothing worked. You couldnât stop thinking about your Kook prince, the most feared man on Kildare that had a soft spot in his heart for you.Â
You had almost hoped that Rafe wouldâve ditched you, wouldâve kicked you to the side like a dog. At least it would be easier to move on that way, and you wouldnât be stuck under his thumb, thinking about the ways you could get out of the hold he has on you. He still wanted to see you and be around you, constantly calling and texting like it was normal, like you hadnât professed your undying love to him only three weeks ago. You felt like a two-headed monster. One head was his best friend, one head was deeply in love with him.
You know heâs fine, but what about you? What do you do?
âââ ââ
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â âââââ ââ
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â âââââ ââ
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â âââââ ââ
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â âââââ ââ
ââ
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Even after everything, you still have to show up for your Friday night tradition; sitting on Rafeâs sofa, tucked under his arm, watching a shitty 80s zombie movies while eating a Costco pizza. You shouldnât have agreed, knowing it would only make things harder, but you would do anything for him. Your poor heart would always surrender to him.
Maybe this time he would start falling for you, too.
You pull into the driveway of his new house, grabbing the pizza from the backseat before heading up to the front door, balancing the giant box with one hand as you knock.
The door swings open a second later, with Rafe standing in the doorway, grinning at the sight of the pizza box in your hands. He steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. âYouâve arrived with the goods, I see.â
You swallow hard. He looks so fucking good, wearing a tight black t-shirt and a pair of dark green sweatpants. You hug him with one arm, burying your face in his shoulder and inhaling deep. Your eyebrows furrow slightly and your free hand clenches around your keys. He smells different. Sweeter. Almost like candy.
Sofia mustâve been here earlier.
You pull away, carrying the pizza box into his living room. âYup. I got you extra cheese, too.â
He follows behind you, shutting the door behind the two of you. His arm wraps around your shoulder when you reach the sofa, pulling you in tight to his side. âExtra cheese for my girl.â he teases, taking the box from you to set on the coffee table. Youâre on the edge while heâs so goddamn polite and composed.
You tense up slightly as you settle into his sofa, grabbing the remote. You turn the TV on, trying to distract yourself from the empty feeling building up inside of you and gnawing at your guts. âWhich movie are we watching tonight?â
âMmâŚâ He stretches out on the sofa, his legs tangling with yours as he looks over your shoulder at the TV. His body is pressed up against yours, and as usual, his proximity starts to stir up feelings deep inside of you. Feelings you thought you had managed to repress. âHow about Romero?â
Your eyebrows furrow again. This man was going to give you wrinkles. âI thought we were watching zombie movies. Not ones about a Salvadoran archbishop.â
âNo, not Romero like the actual archbishop, I mean like--â He lets out a frustrated sigh. âThe man who invented the zombie film genre, dumbass. Do you need me to find a new best friend or something? Because youâre starting to get a little too idiotic for me.â
What the fuck? âExcuse me?â
He snorts, watching you get defensive. âCome on, it was a joke,â he says, nudging you with his knee. âLighten up, Iâm just teasing.â
âIt wasnât funny.â You say.
Itâs then that he notices the way your shoulders are tense. Your jaw is clenched, and your eyes focus on the screen in front of the two of you with a bit too much intent. Youâre upset. He can feel the agitation radiating off of you, and he hates it. Heâs too used to his best friend being comfortable with him, happy around him. He lets out a breath, sitting up straight. âDonât be like that,â he mutters. âRelax.â
âYou donât get to call me a dumbass, Rafe.â You say, your tone sharp.
Rafe stares at you, his irritation rising bit by bit. He takes in your expression, your sharp tone, the agitation that was practically coming off of you in waves. This was new territory for him. You werenât just being cold, you were pissed. Heâd never seen you this pissed at him. He didnât like it.
He wanted the old you back, the you he thought you were. His best friend, his confidant, not the girl whoâs helplessly in love with him, not the girl who lies awake all night thinking about him. Not the girl who moans his name into her pillow as she cums, hoping one day he would fall in love with her, too. He wanted you to just move on, to give up, to completely wipe your romantic feelings for him clean. He wanted more, while leaving you with less.
âYou didn't use to care about this shit,â He says. âNot until you decided you were in love with me or whatever.â
âDecided?â You ask, scoffing. âIt isnât something you just wake up and decide.â
Rafe stares at you, his gaze hard, almost like heâs trying to search for the words that he wants to say. He was never good at this, talking about his feelings. He sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. âI⌠I donât know.â He mutters, staring down at the floor. âI just wish things were the way they used to be, okay? I didnât ask for all this bullshit. I never asked you to feel this way, so why are you making things so difficult?â
âI didnât ask for this either.â You say.
âWell, youâre the one whose in love.â He says, the words almost bitter on his tongue. âYouâre the one who made things difficult. I didnât ask you to feel this way. I didnât tell you to go and fall in love with me. So why are you getting pissed because Iâm not in love with you too?â
âIâm not pissed, Rafe,â You say, although deep down you truly are. âI knew from the very beginning that I had no chance with you. I wouldnât love me, either.â
He falls silent, running a hand through his hair. He didnât know how to respond to that. He knew that wasnât true. He knows that youâre beautiful, and sweet, and kind, and funny. He knew that you should have every chance with him. But he just didnât love you that way. âHow many times do we have to go over this?â He asks, his voice soft. âIâve never loved you like that. Youâre my best friend, you know that.â
âThanks for the reminder.â You say bitterly.
He grits his jaw, frustrated now. He hated how bitter you were when it came to this. He hated that you expected him to be in love with you back when he just didnât see you that way. He hated that he had to keep explaining this over and over again to you, and he hated the fact that you were just sitting here, pouting like a toddler. Like a girl who was in love.
He was tired of being the bad guy in this. âThen you shouldnât have fallen in love with me.â
âI wish I never did.â You say.
He doesnât speak. He doesnât know what to say. He just turns to look at the movie, his jaw clenched. He hated that you said that. He hated that you wished youâd never fallen for him. He didnât want you to wish that. If you didnât fall for him, how long would it be before you fell for someone else? Someone who wasnât him? He didnât want the thought of you with another guy to piss him off so much.
Rafe sighs. âQuit looking at me like Iâm the bad guy here.â
âDo you want me to pretend youâre a good guy?â You ask, crossing your arms.
âI am the good guy,â He snaps, his eyes narrowing. What the hell? He knew he wasnât an angel by any means, but he was a good guy. He took care of his family, protected his friends, and stayed loyal to his girlfriend. âYouâre the one who fell in love with me. I didnât do anything wrong.â
You sigh, looking away. This was pointless, even more pointless than the daydreams you filled your mind with when you couldnât sleep. âWhatever.â
He looks at you for a moment, jaw clenched, his body tense.
âYou know, this whole self-pitying, 'woe is me, Rafe is the bad guy' bullshit is starting to piss me off. Itâs getting annoying.â He says.
âI donât know what you want me to do, Rafe.â You say.
âStop acting as if Iâve done something wrong. Like Iâve wronged you,â He says, exasperated. He canât understand why youâre being like this, and itâs pissing him off even more. âI donât like you that way. Iâve never liked you that way. Why is that such a hard concept for you to accept?â
âIt isnât,â You say, your voice starting to get thick with emotion. âI know you donât like me, I know you arenât attracted to me, I just⌠itâs just so hard for me to move on, and I donât know why.â
Rafe is silent for a moment, watching as your face starts to crumble. He canât help but sigh. He moves closer to you, placing his hand on your thigh. Normally, it was the opposite. Normally it was you comforting him, not him trying to comfort you. âItâll pass. Youâll get over it eventually.â
Itâll pass.
Itâll pass.
It will never pass, will it?
You sniffle, one hand reaching up to wipe the corners of your eyes. âI should go.â
He catches your wrist, tugging you back down on the sofa. âSit down,â he says, his voice firm. âYouâre not going anywhere yet. We need to talk about something.â
âAbout what?â You ask, not looking at him.
He lets go of your wrist, crossing his arms over his chest. âThis,â He says simply, gesturing towards your face. âThisâŚdepression, sadness, self-pity bullshit. I hate seeing you the way you are right now, like youâve just been kicked down. Itâs pathetic. Itâs not you.â
You donât reply, finally looking over at him, eyes red rimmed with tears.
He stares back, his expression unchanging. You think he wouldâve softened up at the sight of you, but he doesnât. He doesnât want to see you like this anymore. Youâre supposed to be his best friend, the person he confides in and takes comfort in. âYouâre supposed to be the person I come to when Iâm upset. Not the other way around. This pity party you have going on needs to end. Youâre better than that.â
You look back down at your lap, starting to pick at the skin around your thumbnails. âWhat do you want me to do?â
âMove on,â Rafe says, his tone harsher than he intended. âMove the fuck on. I want my best friend again, not this whiney, insecure brat. I donât have any romantic feelings for you, and Iâm tired of treating you with kid gloves because you canât handle the truth. Get a grip and get over it. You either move on, and things go back to normal, or we stop being friends.â
You feel your stomach drop, your throat constricting, air getting caught in your windpipe. You donât look at him, continuing to dig your fingernails into your skin. He watches you for a moment, noticing the way your chest shakes as you try to keep back the tears. He knew your habits by now, and he noticed the way your hands started to fiddle and pick. You did that when you were trying to distract yourself. You did that when you were upset, hurt.Â
âStop that,â He mumbles, reaching out and grabbing your hand.
You pull your hand away and stand up, fists clenching as your chest shakes. You couldnât break down. Not here, not in front of him. âI should go.â
Rafe reaches out, grabbing your wrist again. He stands up too, using his grip to tug you back towards him. âWe need to talk about this. Sit down.â
You pull away again, taking a step back, a soft squeak tumbling out of your mouth as you start to cry.
The squeak causes his stomach to twist. His face falls. âDonât pull away from me.â He pleads softly, his hand reaching out for you again.
You retreat again, shaking your head as more tears start to fall. Your legs shake, your hands coming up to cover your face.
He grabs your wrist again, gently pulling you into his arms. âStop it,â he says firmly, pulling you in close to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around your trembling frame. âStop.â
You sob into his chest, your hands still covering your face, shoulders shaking violently as you try and take a deep breath.
He stays quiet, one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you firmly against him. His other hand comes up to tangle in your hair, playing with the roots of it as his chin rests on the top of your head. âStop crying,â He repeats, his voice a bit gentler. âIâm not worth it.â
âYes you are.â You mumble, wiping your tears with your fingers, palms still pressed against your face, mascara smearing across your cheeks.
âNo, Iâm not,â He says firmly, his breath fanning over the crown of your head. His fingers tighten slightly in your hair, rubbing slow circles into your scalp. Not to offer comfort. No, he knew that wouldnât work. But to just keep you where you were, firmly held against his chest. âIâm a disaster. Even after everything, after trying to change, Iâm still a disaster.â
âYou're not a disaster.â You say, pulling back to look at him.
He stares down at you, his expression hard to read. He has his usual, guarded look on, but the way his hand reaches up to gently wipe away one of your tears gives away the fact that heâs affected. âI am,â He repeats, his voice quiet. âAnd I wonât ever be the man you think I am.â
You hesitate. âI want the Rafe Iâm looking at. Not the picture of you in my head.â
He lets a huff of air out through his nose, his expression softening for the briefest of moments as he looks down at you. You were so beautiful, even when you were crying and on the edge of a breakdown. But he couldnât allow himself to get caught up in it again, like in high school. He had moved on. At least, in his mind. âYouâll never be satisfied with that. Iâm no saint, and Iâll never be the romantic, fairy tale guy you want me to be.â
âI just want--â You try to correct yourself, although you meant the former. âI just wanted to be yours.â
He stiffens for a second, his gaze hardening again as he studies your face. âNo,â he mutters, a tinge of something you canât place in his voice. âYou canât be mine. Iâm not yours, and Iâll never be yours. Youâre not mine to keep, youâre not the one I want, youâre not the one Iâm in love with.â
You sigh, your voice soft. âI know.â
He lets out a breath, the expression on his face pained. He cupped your face, wiping away some of the smeared mascara. âI donât want to keep hurting you,â He says softly. âI donât want to keep making you cry. I donât want to keep disappointing you.â
âIâm hurting myself,â You say. âItâs not your fault. Iâm the one who just canât move on.â
âYouâre not the one at fault,â Rafe says, his thumb still wiping at the tear stains on your cheek. âIâm the one who canât love you the way you want to be loved. And Iâll never be able to. You deserve someone who can, and I want you to find that person.â
You did find that person, the one holding your face and looking at you like youâre his saving light in eternal darkness. You had ignored so many bad omens, hoping that the universe was wrong, that they made a mistake, that your red strings of fate were intertwined in the stars.
But they werenât.
You swallow hard. âIâm sorry. Iâll try harder. To get over you.â
âGood.â He says, his thumb brushing under your eye one last time, wiping away a tear. His thumb brushes across your cheek, pressing down slightly to feel the softness of your skin. He moves his other hand to your jaw, moving his thumb side to side on your neck, feeling your pulse.Â
His eyes meet yours before his gaze travels over your face, soaking in every detail of you. They linger on your lips, just for a second too long, and much to his dismay, you notice it. His eyes move back up to look into yours.
Your breath hitches ever so slightly, your lips parting. Rafe purses his lips together slightly, rubbing them together, his eyes looking back down at your mouth. He mumbles your name quietly, his voice soft.
âWhat?â You ask.
He doesnât answer.Â
His eyes are still looking at your mouth. He watches your lips move as you speak, watches how your tongue peeks out of the corner of your mouth ever so slightly.Â
He canât think straight. He canât think at all. His mind has gone fuzzy, and every cell of his body is telling him something he knows he shouldnât do.Â
His hand slides from your jaw to the back of your neck, and he pulls you in closer.
He places a kiss to your forehead, his eyes closing.
Your eye twitches, your stomach churning, your face getting hot with shame and embarrassment.
He pulls away, looking down at you. âIâm sorry, alright? Can we just⌠can we just chill and watch a movie?â
You should say no. You should scream at him, yell at him for manipulating you, for looking at you like that and acting like he was going to kiss you.
But you canât. You canât bring yourself to hate him, even after this.Â
You swallow hard, blinking a few times as you look at the long forgotten pizza box on the coffee table. âYeah. We can watch a movie.â
He feels relieved. Thatâs good.Â
He gives you a small smile, placing a hand on the small of your back and ushering you towards the sofa. He turns you towards the sofa, gesturing for you to sit down, his hand still lingering on your back, the feel of your skin under your sweater making his heart race.Â
His eyes linger on you for a moment, before he turns to grab the remote off of the coffee table. He sits down next to you, trying to keep a normal distance between the two of you, instead of pressing himself up against your side. He opens the pizza box as he opens Hulu, handing you a slice.Â
You take it, your fingers and hands numb and tingling as you try to suppress the bile in your throat.
âââ ââ
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â âââââ ââ
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â âââââ ââ
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â âââââ ââ
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The Outer Banks is truly paradise on Earth.
Although The Boneyard isnât the nicest beach on the island, it has a few secluded spots that still manage to take your breath away. You find your favourite spot easily, a small sandbank by the entrance to a long-forgotten cove. It was once filled with rumours of pirates and treasures, but now itâs full of seaweed.
You settle into the sand, holding your sandals in your hands, arms draped over your knees. You watch the sunset pink and orange streaking across the sky, listening to the soft crashing of the waves and the distant call of a seagull. The wind gently pulls through your hair, and you push some behind your ears, closing your eyes as you feel the sun on your face.
Itâs peaceful.
Another soft breeze brushes over you, carrying with it the scent of weed, an uncommon occurrence for this particular spot. Not a lot of other people on the island knew of your spot, mainly just Rafe and Sarah.
You turn your gaze to your left, finding a familiar figure sitting about a yard away from you.
JJ smiles, head tilted to the side, a lit joint between his fingers. âHey.â
âHey.â You say, smiling softly. You had always had a little soft spot for JJ, considering him to be one of the few Pogues you could actually stand, maybe other than Kiara.
JJ takes a hit of the joint, looking out over the ocean, the sun starting to descend towards the horizon. He sighs contently before turning to look at you again, raising his eyebrows as he studies you. âWhatâre doing out here all alone?â
âJust watching the sunset.â You say. You pat the sand next to you, inviting him to take a seat.
âYeah? Me too,â He says, moving closer to take a seat next to you. He stretches out his legs, leaning back onto his hands and resting his head against the sand. He takes another hit from the joint, sighing out the smoke before offering it to you. âWant a hit?â
You nod, taking it between your thumb and pointer finger. You take a deep hit, sucking in the smoke and blowing it out in a thick white cloud. You hold it out towards him. âThanks.â
He takes it from you, his fingers brushing against yours. âAnytime,â He says, leaning back. He watches you for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face. The sun is setting in front of you, casting a warm, orange glow illuminating you that catches on your hair. He canât help but admire the way the sunset looks against your figure, casting a glowing haze around you. His gaze softens in the presence of your soft glow. âYou look pretty tonight.â
You smile softly, feeling your face get warm. âThanks, JJ. So do you.â
He smiles back, his eyes locking with yours. Itâs just the two of you out here, and JJ likes it that way. Just you and him sitting alone on the beach, watching the sunset. âJust pretty?â He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.
âHandsome.â You add.
Heâs silent for a moment, staring back at you. He lets out a breath through his nose, trying to hide the grin on his face as his cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, but itâs still clear on his face. âDamn right, I am.â He mutters. The two of you just stare at each other for a minute, the quiet sounds of the ocean in front of you and the distant sound of a fish jumping, trying to catch a bug flying across the water.
You smile at him again, looking back over the water.
JJ studies your profile for a moment, taking a hit off of his joint before passing it back to you, still staring at you. His eyes linger on your eyes, before slowly dropping down to your lips. He watches you, the soft expression on your face and how your hair blows in the wind. Heâs always liked the way you look when youâre relaxed. You always look pretty, but you really look beautiful when youâre relaxed, when thereâs no stress or worry in your mind.Â
He studies your face, committing every detail to memory. He sits up straighter, placing the joint back in his mouth. He hesitates before throwing one arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side. You oblige, slotting yourself against him, leaning your head against his shoulder.Â
He smiles to himself, feeling you move closer. His arm tightens around you, fingers absentmindedly tracing circles into your shoulder. He watches the sun over the ocean, noticing how the light dances over the rippling water. He takes the joint from his mouth once again, taking a hit. He holds it in his lungs for a second, before leaning forward slightly, his gaze shifting down to your cheek. He lets out a cloud of smoke from his mouth, the smoke hovering in the air between the two of you.
You take the joint from him and take a hit before handing it back, holding it in your lungs before exhaling slowly. You look up at him, watching as he puts the joint in his mouth as he shifts in the sand. You smile softly again, admiring the way his eyes shine in the pink and orange hues of the setting sun.
Sometimes the one you want is not the one you need.
*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďžâ§*:シďž*:シďžâ§
part three?
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That second point yanked Batman instantly and unwillingly by the throat to Phantom's side.
He couldn't speak out knowing the rest of the League wouldn't approve, so he let the discussion run its course, and Phantom was naturally denied.
But Batman is nothing if not thorough, and compiling DNA profiles would also help with contingencies. So Batman discretely reaches out after the meeting to give Phantom his personal permission as long as he provides the DNA samples and that Phantom understands that Batman cannot publicly defend him, but he will mitigate the consequences behind the scenes.
After another biting incident when Phantom is getting lectured by Superman:
"Phantom, you can't keep doing this. This is your last warning. Criminals or not, it's never okay to bite people just because you want to. Control yourself, or you might have to rethink your place in the Justice League."
Phantom staring at his feet and genuinely worried that he might get kicked out. He didn't think it was that big a deal.
Batman walks up and simply states. "He is controlling himself."
"Batman, you call that control? I'm trying to be understanding, but Phantom is biting criminals more than ever."
"Are they still breathing?"
"I don't see how-"
"Are their limbs still attached?"
"What are you-?"
Batman gives Superman a hard look to stop him mid question. "Acording to Constantine, ghosts from the Infinite Realms are creatures that should be avoided at all costs due to their extremely volatile nature. Generally, it's a death sentence to ever encounter one."
Superman turned to the child he'd been scolding, shocked that any of that could possibly be true about his colleague. The same colleague, who was so gentle he almost cried when he accidently killed a spider in the dining hall. "Is that true?"
Danny, glancing up but unable to meet Superman's eyes, "Yea-yeah. Intense violence is actually how most ghosts socialize. Regrowing limbs isn't a big deal for ghosts, so they tend to forget how fragile humans are."
Batman continues with his explanation, "In the Infinite Realms, ghosts have evolved to attack anything that moves as a defense due to how hostile the environment is. Everything from the plants to the very ground could attack at any moment. Their version of compassion is controlling their instincts before the killing blow. The fact that Phantom rarely attacks anybody is a testament to his constant and vigillent self-control."
Danny finally meets Superman's eyes and they are nothing but pools of liquid innocence and shame about his very being. "I'm sorry... I'm doing my best, but my ghost instincts are really hard to control, especially when emotions are high and we are carching bad guys, and I can't help but bite. But I promise, I will never let it go any farther than that."
Intense guilt washes over Superman. He knew how seriously Phantom took his promises. He had no idea he was asking Phantom to go against his very nature. Did Phantom have to hold himself back right now? Superman knew a thing or two about how scarily fragile human bodies were to someone like him. He couldn't imagine having instincts that screamed at him to attack anything that moved on top of that.
Batman turned to his old friend with a disapproving stare. "Maybe learn a thing or two before you judge our nonhuman members. I expected better from you."
Superman placed his hands on Phantom's shoulders. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. Do the best you can. We can figure out the rest together. Please forget everything I said earlier."
Danny with hope sparking in his eyes, "Are you sure? I know im not perfect, but I want to stay. I really like it here, and I really like helping people."
"Of course. I'll let the others know." Superman walks away down the hall, and out of sight.
Danny grinned, lifted his eyebrows, and nodded toward where Superman ran off to convey his thanks for the save.
Batman gave a quick nod and a tiny, barely there smile of his own. He spoke aloud for the one with superhearing that was definitely still listening, "I apologize for any offense you may have taken. Know that the sentiments of Superman are not shared by the rest of us."
Danny pulled the zip lock baggie out of his pocket and silently handed it to Batman with a grin. It had a napkin smeared with the blood of Danny's most recent biting victim labeled in Sharpie. Danny responded in a wobbly voice that did not match his mischivous grin, "Thanks." He added a sniffle for effect. "I needed to hear that. I'm really doing the best I can, but i guess people dont see it that way."
After this incident, Superman became Danny's biggest defender against the biting accusations.
Danny Phantom, who as far as the Justice League knew was a normal ghost, was presenting a pointpoint in front of the rest of the League. The presentation says, "Why I should be allowed to bite criminals: 1, because I am not human and cannot catch any of your filthy human diseases. 2, because it would allow us to compile DNA samples from the criminals of the world to compare with during crime scene investigation. 3, Fuck you."
#dp x dc#dc x dp#dcxdp#dpxdc#justice league#danny phantom#dc x dp crossover#dp x dc prompt#dp x dc crossover
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UNMATCHED II.
A/N: soooo you guys were just as horny for a part 2 to this story as i was so here we are, giving in to the temptation. disclaimer, i know their behavior is giving red flag energy but lets just put that aside for the sake of the story now lol
WORD COUNT: 3.8k
WARNING: sexual content, age gap, student-professor relationship
SUMMARY:Â Harry has been trying his best to forget what happened with Y/N, he is set on never making the same mistake, but it seems like fate has different plans for him.
PART 1 | MASTERLISTÂ |Â SUPPORT ME!
That skirt. That goddamned skirt. Thatâs gonna be the death of Harry.Â
And also the fact that she went back to that asshole.Â
Sitting in the busy school cafeteria Harry has zoned out of the conversation at the table a long time ago, precisely when he saw Y/N stroll in wearing that short skirt with that dickhead she should have ditched already or better, she shouldnât have even dated him in the first place. But now they are moving in the line with their group of friends and he has his hand on her waist and it keeps inching lower, just a few more inches and his hand could be slipping under her skirâ
âHarry? Hello?âÂ
Stella catches his attention and he is forced to move his focus back to his colleagues at the table.Â
âHuh? Sorry, what did you say?â He clears his throat and keeps his eyes on his half-eaten sandwich in front of him.Â
âWhatâs up with you? You havenât been your usual self lately.â
âJust⌠tired. Iâm behind with my research and have a bunch of papers to grade before winter break.â
âThe joys of being a teacher,â Stella chuckles. âDonât worry, itâll get better with time.â
âReally?â
âNo,â she smirks at him. âBut youâll care less.â
She soon returns to the conversation at the table and Harry finds himself looking for Y/N again. Thereâs no trace of her in the line, but he is quick to spot her at a table across the dining hall, sitting beside Dickhead who has an arm around her neck, keeping her close as he wants everyone to know that they are together.
And it irks Harry way more than it probably should.Â
Itâs been a little over a week since Stellaâs Christmas party and also that very heated and very wrong kiss he shared with Y/N. That weekend was like hell, he kept beating himself over and over about it, cursing himself out for being so stupid and reckless. He still has no idea what came over him that let him make out with a student, but he knew one thing for sure: it couldnât happen again.Â
So when Y/N walked into the classroom before his first lecture early on monday he didnât even let her speak before he got to the point.Â
âIt shouldnât have happened. Iâm so sorry for it, but I canât undo it now. I suggest letâs pretend nothing happened, itâs for the absolute best. No one can know about it and it will never happen again.â
She seemed taken aback by his outburst, but after a bit of hesitation she nodded.
âOkay. Nothing happened. It must have been the wine.â
âYes,â he agreed right away. âWe both drank more than we should have and made a mistake.â
She flinched at his last word, but didnât protest, only nodded, holding her textbooks tighter to her chest. She looked so sad, even disappointed that Harry almost wanted to take back what he just said, but he knew he couldnât.Â
âAre you⌠okay?â he dared to ask, but when she looked at him again, her eyes told nothing.Â
âIâm fine. Iâll see you in class, professor.â
And she was out of the classroom before he could say another word. In class she sat in the back and not even once did she look at him. He knows, because he kept looking at her.Â
Heâs been trying his best to get her out of his head, but with not much luck. Not when all he can think about is how soft her lips felt against his, how insanely good she tasted mixed with the coldness of the night, how amazingly she fit into his palm, the curve of her neck, back, waist and hips⌠and how badly he wants to experience it again even though itâs the worst possible idea.Â
Harry thinks he is going insane. Genuinely.Â
Heâs been burying himself into work, but his focus has been all over the place, so itâs been more like a waste of time. He is one of the last ones in the building today as well. Most professors left a long time ago, but the lights in Harryâs tiny office are still on as he is hunched over a stack of papers. When he has to read over the same line for the twentieth time he drops his pen with a tired groan and leans back in his chair. He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes roughly, until he is practically seeing stars.Â
âFuck,â he huffs, staring at the papers that are still waiting to be graded. Checking the time on his phone he is surprised to see that itâs already past seven.
He stands from his chair and steps to the window. The campus looks quiet at this time, only a few students are walking towards the dorm thatâs next to the literature departmentâs building. Itâs a wednesday night, the semester ends next week so some lucky students who have no more exams left in the year have already left for the holidays. Harry will be going home right before Christmas, he plans to use those few days of the break to work on his research in peace.Â
From his window he sees part of the parking lot next to the dorm, itâs quite dark there, he almost doesnât notice the figures sitting in the car closest to him, but a few heartbeats later realization hits him.
Itâs Y/N and the dickhead.Â
They are pretty far, but Harry can tell that they are in a heated fight, judging from how Y/N is gesticulating. Obviously he canât hear them, but if he had to guess he would say she is shouting, from what he can see.Â
For a moment he tells him to just ignore the scene, itâs none of anyone elseâs business, let alone his. But when he sees the asshole slap his hands against the wheel several times, making Y/N jump, Harry is moving before he could second guess his actions.Â
He practically sprints down that stairs, already trying to figure out how heâll interject without appearing like a creep, but he forgets all his plans when he is marching towards the parking lot and sees the scene unfold from up close.Â
At some point they must have gotten out of the car, because Harry catches the dickhead getting back into the driving seat, Y/N is crying and tries to stop him from shutting the door, but he swings it with such force that she stumbles forward, holding onto the handle. When Harry sees her almost fall to the asphalt he starts running, just as the car comes to life and he drives away so fast, he almost runs over Y/Nâs feet.Â
âFuck you, Charlie! Fuck you!â She screams after the car, tears streaming down her cheeks.Â
âHey, hey, hey!â Harry rushes over to her, grabs her by her shoulders and turns her away from the direction of the car. âHey, what happened?â
She is gasping for air from the crying as she wraps her arms around her, those beautiful eyes that are usually filled with curiosity are now full of confusion and hurt.Â
âY/N, look at me,â he begs and she hiccups a few times before she finally looks him in the eyes.Â
âH-Harry?â
He ignores how good it feels to hear her call him by his first name again and tries to focus on the situation.
âYeah. Letâs get inside, okay? Itâs freezing cold.â
She nods and lets him steer her towards the building and up to his office. By the time she sits in the old armchair in the corner of his office she has stopped sobbing, but her expression looks just as miserable as before.Â
âIâll make you a tea. Do you like tea?â he asks, stepping over to the tiny side table where he keeps his kettle and tiny tea collection with two mugs. She nods and he is quick to turn on the kettle. He grabs a chamomile filter and drops it into one of the mugs and while the water boils he hands her a box of tissues that she accepts with a quietly murmured thank you.Â
When the tea is done he hands her the mug and sits in his chair, unsure what to say. He definitely did not plan to have her in his office anytime soon and definitely not like this.Â
âGo on, lecture me about being with him,â she says at last, staring into the mug in her hands.Â
âI wasnât planning on it.â
âBut youâd be right.â She looks up at him, eyes still red from the crying.Â
âWhy did you go back to him?â he softly asks, not wanting to make her feel even worse.Â
âI donât know,â she shrugs, looking away again. âHe could be convincing, I guess.â
âHope you wonât believe him after this.â
âNo,â she chuckles bitterly before taking a sip from the tea, leaning back in the armchair. âNot even the sex will convince me to go back to him.â
Harryâs muscles jump at her words. Not because he is such a prude, but because instantly he is thinking about sex⌠and her⌠and his body reacts involuntarily. Clearing his throat he crosses his legs and looks anywhere but at her.
âIâm sorry, I shouldnât have said that,â she chuckles softly, but she doesnât seem sorry at all.Â
âNo, I⌠umâŚâ Harry has no idea what to say. This feels like such an impossible situation, he is definitely walking on eggshells here and the fact that he is semi-hard does not help his case.Â
While he is looking for the right words she places her mug to his desk and crosses her legs, a curious look playing in her eyes as she is looking at him. She appears calm and confident suddenly, like she wasnât sobbing ten minutes ago.Â
âI lied,â she then speaks up.
âAbout what?â
âI know why I went back to him.â
âOh. Okay, why did you?â
She holds his gaze for one⌠two⌠three seconds before her lips part, then she hesitates for one more moment before answering.Â
âBecause I couldnât go to you.â
A shiver runs down his spine at her words, his body is betraying him already, but he hangs onto the last bit of his rationality.
âY/N, donât.â
âDonât what? Donât tell the truth?â
âWe agreed that we are not talking about it again.â
âIâm not talking about that night. Iâm talking about how badly Iâve been wanting you, but knowing I canât have you I went back to Charlie even though I knew I shouldnât have.âÂ
âY/NâŚâ His mouth is dry and he feels ridiculously hot even though the heating hasnât been working too well lately in his office. He is clawing at the arms of his chair, trying to keep the remains of his cool, though it feels like he is hanging on a thread.
âI wonât do anything about it, donât worry. And I wonât bring it up again.â She sounds different this time, the confidence has turned into what feels like disappointment and it lurches something in Harryâs gut.Â
Standing she smoothes her clothes before looking at Harry, a tiny sliver of expectancy glistening in her eyes.Â
âThanks for the tea. I better get going.â
She is already moving towards the door when Harry jumps to his feet, entirely lost about what to think, do or say. He strides after her and just when she is about to reach for the knob, he grabs her other hand, stopping her mid action.Â
But he has no idea why he just did that. His rationality is screaming at him, but with each passing moment he spends holding her hand, the noise gets farther and farther away until itâs lost somewhere in the back of his mind.Â
Slowly, she turns her head, eyes taking in the sight of their touching hands before her gaze meets his. He instantly stumbles back, letting go of her like she was on fire, but she doesnât seem surprised. Instead, she turns around and just stands there, with a calm, but determined look on her face.Â
âCareful professor,â she then speaks up. âI might take your actions as a hint.â
âA hintâŚâ he breathes out, almost mesmerized with her, he is convinced sheâs put a spell on him, because he canât move or think straight, he just keeps staring at her.
âYes, a hint,â she nods shortly. âThat you want me just as much as I want you.â
He swallows down a moan that almost slips through his lips at her words. His whole body is burning for her, palms sweating and itching to touch her and he can almost taste her on his tongue again, desperate to pick up from where they left off not long ago.Â
The tiniest smirk tugs on the corners of her mouth when she sees just how much he is struggling and she takes it as her queue to push her luck just a bit further. She takes a step closer to him, but still leaves some space between them, wanting him to close those last inches.Â
âYou know you can have me.â She cocks her head to the side, blinking up at him innocently. âRight here, on your desk or in that armchair. I want to be your good girl and take whatever you give me.â
âStop it,â he manages to breathe out, but all his strength is gone, it sounds more like a plea rather than an order.Â
âWhat if I donât?â she sassily questions. âWill you punish me?â
Harry whimpers. They both know he is close to breaking and she is not stepping down now and sheâs determined to push him over the edge. Slowly she reaches up, drags a finger across her lips before moving then down, tugging at her shirt at her chest, revealing more of the exposed skin there, then she starts playing with the top button, all while keeping her eyes focused on him. He sucks on his breath, his gaze keeps switching between her eyes and what her fingers are doing.Â
Then it pops open, revealing the delicious swell of her breasts and a bit of the lacy bra as well and he knows he is gone.Â
âClose the curtain,â he simply orders and a sudden rush of excitement washes over her as she quickly moves across the room, drawing the curtains on the window and turning around she is expecting him to be in the same spot, but to her surprise he is right there and before she could say a word, his lips crash down on hers with such force she would have fallen back if he didnât already have an arm around her waist.Â
His other hand is quick to find its way to her throat first, then to her jaw, angling her head perfectly so he can devour her.Â
He spins them around and she gasps when her ass meets the edge of his desk, still kissing her he pushes forward, blindly tossing everything on the desk aside to make room, something clatters as it falls to the ground but neither of them cares to even look. His hands are on the back of her legs and he helps her up until she is sitting on top of the desk.Â
She eagerly opens her thighs and circles her legs around his hips, pulling him closer and when she feels just how hard he already is, pushing against her clothed center, she canât help but moan at the sensation.Â
âItâs a one time thing,â he pants when her fingers start to work on his shirt and his hands find the button of her jeans.Â
âSure,â she breathes out smiling.
âJust to get it out of our system.â
âOf course,â she nods eagerly, and a moment later she is tugging his shirt off his shoulders.Â
Buttons come undone, clothes are thrown across the room and soon enough all of his focus is on her naked chest, his hands exploring the tender, heated skin before his head dips down and his mouth meets her hardened nipples.Â
âOh fuck,â she moans, head falling back as she has an arm around his shoulders, the other one planted behind her on the desk. All while his hands are tugging down her jeans, finally giving him the chance to touch her inner thighs, exploring the warmth and softness heâs been fantasizing about for so long.Â
He gently bites on one of her nipples, making her back arch, burying his face between her breasts before he leans back to get rid of her jeans. She has a moment to admire his naked torso, all the tattoos heâs been hiding under his clothes, his pants are hanging around his knees and his erection is throbbing through the fabric of his underwear. She canât help but smile at the sight, itâs surely one sheâll remember forever.
When her jeans are discarded on the floor he plants his hands on her thighs and pushes them wide open, revealing her drenched panties. He brings his thumb over the wet fabric, lazily drags it over her clit, making her tremble under his touch. Then keeping eye contact with her he pulls his chair under him, sits down and rolls closer so his face is perfectly lined up with her. With his eyes still locked on hers, he leans forward, moves her panties to the side and places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to her throbbing clit, making her moan so loud, he digs his fingers into her thighs pulling back.Â
âYou need to be quiet,â he warns her and she just eagerly nods, watching him take her underwear off completely and go back to where he was a moment ago.Â
Harry drinks up her taste, he licks, kisses and sucks on the right spots, making her see stars as her orgasm is building up. When she feels two of his fingers slip into her she grabs a handful of his hair, tugging on it.Â
But right when she is about to tip over the edge he pulls back, leaving her in a heaving mess. Reaching into one of his drawers he grabs a condom and standing up he watches her lying on his desk, chest rapidly rising and falling while he rolls the condom on.Â
To his surprise, she gets up and jumps off the desk, taking the initiative by pushing him down back into the chair and straddling his lap. His hands are quick to move to her ass as his cock wedges between her drenched folds. He hisses when she starts rolling her hips, making them both even more feral for whatâs about to come.Â
She leans forward and kisses him, her hand reaching down between them until it finds his cock. She gives him a few lazy strokes to which he hums lowly into her mouth. Then she stops her kisses, lips still brushing against his, eyes meeting again as she lifts herself up just enough to angle him underneath her and then slowly she eases down, letting him enter her inch by inch until she is filled entirely. She gasps at the feeling of her walls stretching around him and they both stop for a few moments, just savoring how perfectly they fit together.Â
She plants both her hands to the base of his neck, kisses him again and starts moving her hips.Â
âFuck, Y/N, you feel so good,â he groans, locking his arms around her, fingers digging into her naked back and side as she starts to slowly pick up her pace, bouncing on him.Â
When he starts thrusting upwards, meeting her movements, her head rolls back from how deep she feels him inside her, his tip reaching the perfect spot.Â
âYes, right there!â she gasps as he buries his head in her neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin while keeping his rhythm. âIâm so close,â she breathes out, her hands raking through his messy hair.Â
Wanting even more friction she adjusts herself and then starts moving faster and rougher, aching for the release. She looks down, her eyes meet his gaze and she just knows he is as close as she is.Â
âHarry,â she moans and hearing his name fall from her lips is what pushes him over the edge.
Grunting, his thrusts get rougher and fall out of their fast pace, he pushes into her over and over again as he fills the condom and watching him fall apart helps her let go as well. He feels her walls tighten around him while he is still riding out the afterwaves of his own orgasm, her mouth hangs open, nails digging into his shoulders so harshly they surely leave marks.Â
Then they both slowly come off their high and she leans forward, capturing his lips in a much softer kiss than the ones theyâve shared just minutes ago. He gladly returns, their lips melt together and his fingers gently roam her naked back while he is still inside her.Â
Theyâre quiet when she moves off him and grabs a few tissues to clean herself up while he discards the condom. The clothes are picked up from the floor one by one and a sense of unsureness settles between them as they both get dressed.Â
She was the only thing on his mind just five minutes ago, but now that the sex haze is gone, his thoughts start racing. What did he do? What will happen now? This shouldnât have happened but still, he wants to do it again and again and again.Â
As if she knew he was panicking inside, she steps to him, takes his face in her hands and pulls him into a long, passionate kiss that instantly makes him forget about everything else.Â
âDonât overthink it,â she whispers against his lips. âWeâre adults.â
âIâm your teacher,â he hums.
âThe semester is almost over. Grade my last paper and weâre done,â she simply says with very little care about his current status. But he is not that sold on it just yet, hesitation and worry is all over his face. âDid you not want it?â
âYou know how much I wanted it,â he admits defeatedly.Â
âGreat. I wanted it too. And I want it again. So Iâll come by tomorrow again. Youâll bend me over that desk after I had your cock in my mouth, then tell me what grade Iâm getting for the semester and we do it again after that.â
He is already feeling himself getting hard again. Deep down he knows he should say no, but he has no will left to fight with himself anymore. So all he does is nod and then kiss her.Â
âIâll see you tomorrow, professor.â She grabs her coat from the floor and then walks out of his office like nothing happened.Â
Harry falls into his chair and assesses the mess on and around his desk, staring at the spot where she was sitting not long ago. He knows he is making his biggest mistake ever, but sinning has never felt this good.
And right now he is willing to take this risk.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles smut
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Imagine that Mc, who makes fun of the brothers for being so dramatic when they don't see each other for a while, thinks that they are not like that when it comes to being away from them for a while. So for a reason like exam time, delivering a major project at work or whatever reason, Mc has to spend some time in the human world with hardly any contact with their demons. (If you like the temporality with respect to the original story this would happen after Mc can travel freely from one world to another, after season 4 of OM, when they gets used to being with their demons every day, even if it's only for 5 minutes).
One day
Mc: It is incredible that there can be so much silence and so much tranquility, ha, ha in the end this is going to be good for me.
Two days
Mc: Well, at this pace of work I'll finish ahead of schedule⌠not bad, but it's a little strange that nobody âbothersâ you.
One week
Mc: *eating* I've made too much food⌠Beel is not here⌠well, I don't have to cook again for five days.
Two weeks
Mc: *sitting in the living room* How quietâŚ. what will they be doing?, I hope they didn't get into too much troubleâŚ.
One month
Mc: âŚ
Mc: Damn, it's not normal to feel so sad if it's only been a monthâŚ*sighing* well I'm just as dramatic⌠I miss themâŚ
Returning to the Devildom
Mc: *hugging the first demon they see*
Satan: Mc?
Mc: I missed youâŚ
Satan: *blushing as he hugs them* Us too.
Mammon, Asmo and Levi appear running down the corridor and embrace Mc.
Mammon: You're back!!!!
Asmo: Oh, honey, I've missed you so, so much!!!
Levi: Don't go away again for so long ever, ever!!
Mc: *about to cry without understanding why* It's your fault!!! I can't live peacefully anymore if I don't have you around!!!!
Mammon: *moved* Mc!!!!
Mc: I hate you.
Asmo: We love you too, hon!!!
.
.
I managed to fix my phone without losing my data!! đ , so for a week I have been feeling a little bit like this, missing the guys, they are really part of my daily routine together with studying, work or doing chores, even if it's just 5 minutes to do the daily tasks. Anyway, all this to say that I'm backđŠˇ.
.
.
#obey me#obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date#omswd#obey me one master to rule them all#obey me!#obey me! one master to rule them all#shall we date obey me#obey me memes#obey me crack#obey me incorrect quotes#obey me otome#obey me mc#mc obey me#om! mc#omswd mc#om mc#obey me brothers#obey me mammon#mammon obey me#om! mammon#omswd mammon#obey me leviathan#leviathan obey me#om! leviathan#omswd leviathan#obey me asmo#asmo obey me#satan obey me#Obey me satan
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The Missing Track - Min Yoongi One-Shot
Pairing: !Idol Yoongi x ! producer f. reader
Genre: explicit romance (smut) !! MINORS DNI !! đ
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 !!:Â 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 đ.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 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 musicâproof 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 youâre 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 donât have melodies. Youâve been staring at the lyrics for weeks."
Yoongi sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "Iâm working on it."
Jihoon hesitated, holding back a smirk. "The team suggested bringing in another producer."
Yoongiâs eyes narrowed. "I donât need help. This is my album. Iâve handled everything myself before, havenât I?"
"This time, weâre short on time," Jihoon countered. "And weâre talking about Prod. K. Heâs incredible! The guy with the minimalist beats and genre-blending compositions. Even youâve praised his work."
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I praised the music, not the person. And I donât work with strangers, especially ones Iâve never even met."
"Itâs non-negotiable, hyung." Jihoon sighed. "The higher-ups already agreed. Weâre bringing him in to collaborate."
"Bringing him in?" Yoongi repeated, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Iâve never even seen his face. For all I know, he could be some arrogant newbie."
Jihoon smirked, his gaze flickering with amusement Yoongi didnât appreciate. "Lets not judge, just wait until you meet him."
Yoongi grumbled, turning back to his monitor. "Fine. But donât expect me to make this easy for him. And when he leaves because Iâm too âdifficult,â 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, itâs an honor, but thatâs a no from me. If my identity gets leaked, the fact that Iâm 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 canât just brush this off."
"Iâm not brushing it off," I shot back. "I respect his work, donât get me wrong. But Iâm 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 theyâre 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. "Itâs not just about you. The label needs this. Weâre in a tight spot financially, and this contract is massive. Do you know how much theyâre offering?"
I didnât want to hear the number. Money had never been my motivator, but the way Minjiâs 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 canât anyone hear my opinion? I donât want to do this. Iâm not just some faceless entity, you know."
"Youâre not," Minji said gently. "But you also know how much this could elevate your career. Three songs, Y/N. Thatâs all theyâre 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 fearâfear of exposure, of judgmentâheld me back.
"Fine," I said finally, hating how small my voice sounded. "Iâll think about it."
*** That night, I found myself on an unintentional deep dive into Min Yoongiâs 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 heâd produced, lyrics heâd written, and performances that made me forget why I was so hesitant in the first place. Scrolling through fan edits and live clips, I couldnât 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 someoneâs soul, no matter how much they tried to hide. I couldnât 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. "Iâll do it."
"Wait, what? Youâre serious?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"Yes, but on one condition."
"Name it."
"No one finds out who I am. If my identity leaks, Iâm out."
Minji exhaled sharply. "Weâll make sure of it. Iâll talk to the higher-ups and confirm everything. Thank you, Y/N. This is the right decision."
I wasnât sure if it was the right decision, but it was the one Iâd 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 heâd see the clause about not sharing my identity, find it too ridiculous, and decide the collaboration wasnât worth it.
But no.
He signed it.
When Minji told me, I stared at her like sheâd grown a second head. "He signed it?"
"Yeah," she said, looking just as surprised. "No arguments, no complaints. Honestly, I thought heâd push back, but he didnât."
I leaned back in my chair, letting out a long breath. "This guy⌠Heâs full of surprises."
"Donât get your hopes up," Minji warned. "Just because he signed doesnât mean this will be smooth sailing."
"I know," I muttered. But in the back of my mind, I couldnât help but wonder. How different was the man behind the screen, the one whose music Iâd 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.
"Heâs 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. "Youâre 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⌠Youâre Producer K?"
I gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Thatâs me."
"Youâre kidding," he said, then immediately looked apologetic. "I mean, sorry, I justâuhâ"
"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 youâd be, you knowâŚ"
"A guy," I finished for him, crossing my arms.
He laughed awkwardly. "Well, yeah. I mean, your music has this⌠vibe. Itâs not what Iâd expect fromâ" He cut himself off again, realizing he wasnât helping.
"From a woman?" I challenged, though there was no malice in my tone.
"Not what I meant!" Jihoon exclaimed, waving his hands. "Itâs justâŚforget it. Iâm sorry. I wasnât trying to offend you."
Minji chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "Donât worry. She gets that a lot."
I didnât 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, letâs get going. Sugaâs 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, "Iâm curious. How long have you been producing?"
"About six years," I replied.
"Wow, and youâre already working with Suga," he said, genuinely impressed. "Thatâs not something just anyone gets to do."
"Iâm aware," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "Itâs a privilege."
He nodded. "Have you been a fan of his music for a while?"
I hesitated. "I respect his work. Heâs incredibly talented."
Jihoon grinned knowingly. "Youâre downplaying it, huh? Thatâs fine. Most people get nervous meeting him for the first time. Donât worry, heâs actually a lot nicer than people think."
Minji let out a quiet laugh beside me. "I donât think nervousness is the issue here."
Jihoon glanced between us, confused but wisely decided not to press further.
*** Pulling up to HYBEâs towering building was intimidating, to say the least. Iâd 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 couldnât shake the paranoia of being recognized. Jihoon led us through the back entrance, avoiding the main lobby and elevators filled with staff and trainees. "Weâre heading straight to the studio," he explained. "Heâs 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 Iâll 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."
Yoongiâs frown deepened as he crossed his arms. "Youâre joking, right?"
I stepped forward, meeting his gaze head-on. "Last time I checked, Iâm not a joke."
His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "Youâre not what I expected."
"Good," I said, setting my laptop on the table. "Letâs 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 didnât exactly⌠scream âfeminine touch.â If anything, I thought youâd 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 Yoongiâs 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. Iâm just saying your music has this raw, almost aggressive energy. Itâs impressive. I just didnât picture..." He motioned vaguely toward me. "...this."
Minji quickly interjected, "Alright, weâll leave you two to it. Jihoon and I have some things to take care of."
"Waitâ" I started, but Minji grabbed Jihoon by the sleeve and dragged him toward the door.
"Youâll 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 Iâm here because someone in your company thought you needed âhelp.â"
He shrugged, moving to his chair and spinning it lazily before sitting down. "Help isnât the word Iâd use. But yeah, I wasnât exactly thrilled about this arrangement."
"Trust me," I said flatly, "neither was I."
That earned a low chuckle from him. "At least weâre on the same page."
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my irritation in check. Iâd dealt with condescending colleagues before, but Yoongiâs nonchalant attitude was already grating on my nerves. How different was he from the Yoongi Iâd seen in interviews or fan videos? This guy wasnât the soft-spoken, thoughtful artist fans adored. He was sharp, blunt, and entirely too smug.
"Letâs just get to work," I said, pulling out my laptop and external drive. "You have lyrics, right? Show me what youâve got."
Yoongi grabbed a notebook from the desk and slid it across the table. "Here. Three tracks Iâm stuck on. The lyrics are solid, but I canât 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.
"Whatâs the vibe youâre 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, letâs try something."
Opening my laptop, I connected it to the studioâs 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, thatâs 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. "Thatâs better."
"Glad I could meet your standards," I said dryly.
He chuckled again, the sound low and almost teasing. "Relax. Iâm not here to make this harder than it has to be."
"Couldâve 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 didnât hold back his opinions, which made working with him both frustrating and oddly invigorating.
As the hours passed, we fell into a rhythm. Heâd point out what wasnât working, Iâd offer a solution, and weâd tweak it until we found something we both liked. By the time we wrapped up for the day, weâd 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."
"Letâs hope tomorrowâs just as productive," I said, saving the project file.
He smirked, standing up and grabbing his notebook. "Weâll see. Youâre not as bad as I thought youâd be."
"Gee, thanks," I said, rolling my eyes. "Youâre 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 couldnât 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. "Itâs 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, Yoongiâs phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, frowned, and stood up. "I need to take this. Keep working. Iâll 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 Yoongiâs voice from around the corner. I paused, not wanting to interrupt, but something about his tone made me linger.
"...So yeah, Jihoon, I didnât know she was a girl," he was saying.
I froze, my pulse quickening.
"I mean, if Iâd known that was the case, maybe I wouldâve pushed back harder at the beginning. Told them I didnât need the help. Sheâs okay and talented, sure, but there are other producers out there who couldâve 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 didnât 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 Iâd 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 hadnât 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 didnât seem convinced, but he didnât press the issue. "Alright. Letâs 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 itâs missing something. Maybe we shouldâ"
"Add another layer?" I interrupted. "I know. Already on it."
Yoongi blinked at me, surprised by my tone. "Whatâs with the attitude?"
"Nothing," I said quickly, not meeting his gaze.
"Doesnât seem like nothing," he said, leaning back in his chair. "If youâve got something to say, just say it."
I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening around the mouse. "I donât have anything to say, Yoongi. Letâs 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 didnât go unnoticed by him.
"Look," he said after a long silence, his voice softer but still firm, "if somethingâs bothering you, itâs better to air it out now. Weâre 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 youâre acting like I kicked your dog."
I hesitated, torn between calling him out and keeping what Iâd heard to myself. In the end, I shook my head. "Itâs nothing. Letâs just focus on the music."
He didnât 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 didnât comment again. But as I left the studio that evening, I couldnât shake the sting of his words. He might think I was talented, but apparently, that wasnât 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 cafĂŠ, 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. "Howâs it going with Yoongi? Are you two getting along?"
I scoffed, stirring my drink with unnecessary aggression. "Getting along? Not even close. Heâs impossible."
Minji raised an eyebrow. "Impossible how? Isnât he just... quiet and focused?"
"Quiet? Sure. Focused? Definitely. But itâs like working with a brick wall that also has an opinion on everything. Heâs a perfectionist to the point where itâs unbearable. We made progress on a track, a full weekâs worth of progress, and on Friday, he decided he didnât like it and scrapped the whole thing. Weâre 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 wasnât bad. It was good, really good, actually. But it wasnât perfect by his standards. He nit-picks every little thing, and donât even get me started on his work ethic. The man doesnât stop. I get it, heâs Yoongi, heâs 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 wasnât going to be easy. Heâs got a reputation for a reason. But isnât it a good challenge? Youâre 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, heâs... cold, demanding, and so stubborn."
Minji chuckled. "Sounds like heâs met his match."
I rolled my eyes but couldnât help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Oh, please. If heâs met his match, he doesnât realize it. He probably just sees me as another producer he has to tolerate."
"Thatâs not true," Minji said, shaking her head. "Youâre talented, Y/N. Heâll see it eventually."
I sighed, taking a long sip of my coffee. "I hope so, because right now, it feels like weâre just butting heads. He questions everything I do. And donât even get me started on his attitude. Heâs so... smug sometimes."
"Smug how?"
"Likeâugh!" I gestured vaguely, trying to find the words. "Itâs the way he looks at me, like heâs constantly judging whether Iâm good enough to be there. He doesnât say it outright, but I can tell heâs thinking it. And it drives me insane."
Minji laughed, leaning back in her chair. "Youâve 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. "Youâre impossible."
Minji grinned, nudging my arm. "You know, maybe this is good for you. A little friction can spark creativity. And who knows? Maybe heâs just testing you."
"Testing me?" I repeated, giving her a sceptical look.
"Yeah. Like, seeing how far youâre willing to push yourself. Maybe heâs trying to figure you out."
"Or maybe heâs just a workaholic control freak," I muttered.
Minji laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Point taken. But donât let him get under your skin too much. Youâve got this, Y/N. And who knows? By the end of three months, maybe youâll 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 isnât strong enough," Yoongi said on Tuesday, frowning at the speakers.
"I think it works," I argued. "Itâs subtle, but it adds depth to the track."
"Subtle isnât what weâre 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, weâd managed to salvage some of the earlier work, only for Yoongi to suggest another round of revisions.
"Youâre kidding," I said, staring at him.
"Do I look like Iâm 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 couldnât deny that he was brilliant. Watching him work was like witnessing a master at his craft, every decision precise, every movement deliberate. But that didnât mean I liked him. And I certainly wasnât 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 toâ"
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. "Iâm 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. "Waitâwho are you? Why is there⌠a girl in here?"
I frowned, crossing my arms. "Whatâs that supposed to mean? Girls arenât allowed in studios now?"
His hands shot up defensively, and he chuckled nervously. "No, no! Thatâs not what I meant! Itâs just⌠Yoongi didnât mention working with someone new today. And youâre clearly not Jihoon."
"Clearly," I said dryly.
He laughed again, but this time it sounded more genuine. "Okay, let me start over. Iâm Hoseok, but you probably know me as J-Hope."
Ah, then it clicked , of course it was J-Hope. His sunny demeanour didnât match the grumpy energy Yoongi radiated, though, which was a refreshing change.
"Nice to meet you," I said, offering a polite nod. "Iâm Y/N."
Hoseokâs expression didnât change for a moment as if he were trying to process something. Then he grinned, leaning slightly closer like heâd just discovered something exciting.
"Wait a second," he said, his tone playfully suspicious. "Iâm not even supposed to be here, you know. I heard Yoongi was working with the producer K who doesnât even disclose their identity, but I just couldnât 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. "Thatâs why Yoongi didnât even say anything when I begged for details! He just said, âThereâs an NDA in placeâ 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. "Youâre good. Like, really good. Iâve been following your work, but I never wouldâve guessed you were⌠Well, you!"
I chuckled, shaking my head. "Is that a compliment or a subtle way of saying I donât look the part?"
"No, no, definitely a compliment," he said quickly, waving his hands. "Itâs just⌠Yoongiâs been extra secretive about this whole thing. And now I see why."
"Yeah, well," I said, gesturing vaguely around the room, "heâs not exactly a ray of sunshine to work with."
Hoseok laughed loudly, his shoulders shaking. "Trust me, I know. But if youâre still here, that means youâre tougher than most. Or really patient."
"Or both," I muttered under my breath.
Hoseokâs grin widened, and he gave me a mock salute. "Well, Kâer, Y/Nâitâs 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 wouldnât work with you if you werenât talented. Heâs picky about these things. So if heâs giving you a hard time, itâs probably because he knows youâre good enough to keep up with him."
I blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. "Thatâs⌠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 youâre in good hands."
Yoongiâs gaze shifted to me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of somethingâannoyance? Curiosity? It was hard to tell.
"Donât you have your own schedule to worry about?" Yoongi asked, walking over to his desk.
"Iâm on a break," Hoseok replied cheerfully. "And besides, I wanted to meet your mystery producer. You couldâve mentioned sheâs not a guy, by the way."
Yoongiâs jaw tightened slightly, but he didnât respond. Instead, he focused on the stack of notes in front of him, clearly dismissing the conversation.
"Well," Hoseok said, standing up and stretching, "Iâll 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.
"Youâve 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 donât let him distract you. Weâve got work to do."
"Wouldnât dream of it," I said, turning back to my laptop with a hint of sarcasm.
Yoongi didnât 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 couldnât help but think about what Hoseok had said. Maybe Yoongiâs high standards werenât 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 didnât escape me, he wasnât 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 yesterdayâs interaction with Hoseok. Yoongi didnât 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.
âDidnât you want your identity a secret?â His voice was cold, almost accusatory.
I froze.
âExcuse me?â I asked, trying to hide the annoyance creeping up my neck.
âTalking to Hoseok yesterday," he continued, now looking at me with an unreadable expression. "The whole 'I canât 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.
âI never said I was âcomfortableâ with it,â I replied. âIâm just doing my job. And I donât owe you an explanation about my personal decisionsâ.
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 couldnât 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.
âLetâs just get to work,â I said, my tone clipped, trying to deflect from the awkwardness of his question. âYou said you wanted to tweak the second verse.â
âYeah," he muttered, still not meeting my gaze, "but now Iâm wondering if I even want to keep collaborating with someone who canât keep things private.â
There it was again. That little jab. He wasnât even trying to hide it. I gritted my teeth, my patience thinning.
âIâve been working in this industry for years, Yoongi,â I said, fighting to keep my composure. âLong before this project. I know whatâs at stake. Donât lecture me about privacy.â
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.
âRight,â he said, standing up and walking toward the soundboard. âLetâs get this over with.â
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. Iâd 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.
âYouâre not what I thought youâd be,â he muttered, half to himself.
I raised an eyebrow. âOh? And what did you expect?â
He gave me a sideways glance, not quite meeting my eyes.
âI donât know,â he said slowly. âMaybe someone more... calculated. Or quieter.â
âIs that so?â I shot back, my voice laced with sarcasm. âBecause I thought you liked chaos in your music.â
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.
âYouâre leaving?â he asked, voice cool, as though he didnât care.
âYeah. Iâm going to grab something to eat,â 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 wasnât 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 companyâs 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 shouldnât 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 weâd been working on it for two weeks, and I wasnât 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 didnât notice Hoseok standing in front of me until he waved his hand in front of my face.
âY/N?â He raised an eyebrow, looking amused.
I jumped a little, then glanced up at him. âOh, hey, Hoseok. Didnât see you there.â
He slid into the seat across from me, still grinning like he knew something I didnât. Hoseok leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning me curiously. âSo, howâs it going? Heâs not making it too hard for you, is he?â
I almost snorted at the question. âHard? Thatâs an understatement. But yeah, Iâm surviving. Weâre getting somewhere.â
He raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. âI didnât think youâd be the type to get along with Yoongi so easily. Heâs a bit... stubborn, right?â
I shrugged, taking a bite of my food to avoid answering too directly.
âYouâd be surprised what I can tolerate,â I said, feeling defensive for some reason.
Hoseok tilted his head, his gaze sharp. âI guess so. But you know, itâs funny.â
I looked up from my food, confused. âWhatâs funny?â
Hoseok smirked. âI didnât think youâd be the type to be such a fan of Yoongiâs music.â
I blinked, unsure if I heard him right. âWhat do you mean?â
Hoseok just pointed at my phone on the table, where Iâd left it open to a playlist of Yoongiâs songs.
I froze, then quickly reached to hide it, but it was too late. Hoseokâs grin widened.
âYou know, I really didnât expect that,â he said, leaning in a little closer, his tone teasing. âI mean, I always knew Yoongiâs music was good, but seeing you listen to it like that... I got to admit, Iâm curious what you think of it.â
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. âIâm just... trying to learn more about him, okay? Itâs part of the job.â
âSure, sure,â Hoseok said, still grinning. âI mean, I get it. Heâs got a certain... appeal. But hey, donât let it distract you too much. Heâs not the easiest person to get close to.â
âYeah, Iâve noticed,â I muttered, returning to my food, trying to act like I wasnât the least bit fazed.
Hoseok studied me for a moment, then leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression.
âWell, if you want my advice...â He grinned again, his eyes mischievous. âTry not to fall for the music and the man, yeah?â
I choked slightly on my food, coughing. âWhat?!â
Hoseok laughed, clearly enjoying my reaction. âIâm just saying, Y/N, donât get too swept up in it all. Yoongiâs a complicated guy. Heâs not someone whoâll make things easy.â
I scowled, but there was a small part of me that couldnât help but appreciate Hoseokâs frankness. âIâm not falling for anything, Hoseok. Iâm just here to do my job.â
Hoseok just winked and stood up. âWhatever you say. But if you do need to talk about him... Iâm always around.â
Hoseok paused, about to turn around before he shot me a sly grin over his shoulder. âActually⌠I donât know if youâre comfortable with all this yet, so you donât have to if you donât want to. But Iâm known for throwing some pretty epic parties around here,â he said, his tone playful. âIâm throwing one at the company soon, gathering the staff, and some of the BTS members will be there too.â
I raised an eyebrow, confused at where this was going. âA party?â
âYeah, and I can introduce you as the âAssistant of Producer K,â so you wonât have to expose your identity if youâre worried about that. Itâll 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.â He smirked, his gaze lingering on me as if he could see through the walls Iâd built up. âYou can bring a plus-one too, if you want.â
It was tempting, especially with the idea of getting out of this studio for a while. Plus, Hoseok seemed genuine, and I didnât want to just keep hiding away in my little corner of the world.
Still, I was cautious. This wasnât my scene, and I wasnât 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.
âIâll think about it,â I said, trying to sound neutral.
Hoseok grinned, clearly satisfied with my answer. âTake your time. You know where to find me if you decide.â
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. Iâd think about it later. I finished eating in silence, trying to push all the thoughts about Hoseokâs offer out of my head. It wasnât 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 couldnât 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 couldnât help but feel a strange sense of dĂŠjĂ vu. It was like Iâd just left, but already it felt like Iâd 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. Didnât he ever leave this place?
Yoongi looked up from his meal, barely acknowledging me as I entered. "Youâre 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."
âOf course,â 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. âThatâs the problem, isnât it? You keep rushing through everything, thinking you can just âmove onâ from one song to the next. But this isnât a race, Yoongi.â
He looked at me sharply, his brows furrowing. "I'm not rushing anything. We need to get this done before the deadline, and you canât expect me to just waste time on something that isnât working."
I stared at him, my patience thinning. âYouâre not even open to trying something new. Every idea I suggest gets shot down, but youâre so attached to this âperfectâ vision of yours. Well, guess what? Perfect doesnât exist.â
Yoongi set his bowl down, the chopsticks clinking against the edge. âSo what, you think Iâm not doing my best?â His eyes narrowed, and the room suddenly felt smaller. âYou think I donât care about the quality?â
I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. âItâs not about that, Yoongi. Youâre too set in your ways. You think your way is the only way, but this is a collaboration. I canât just keep following your orders. Iâm not your assistant.â
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."
âThen stop treating me like one,â I snapped, feeling my annoyance rise. "Iâm not here just to cater to your ideas. If weâre 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. "Weâll figure it out. But donât expect everything to happen overnight."
âI donât,â I replied dryly. "But I expect respect, which is something you seem to be lacking in."
He didnât 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. Iâm thinking about going."
Yoongiâs head snapped up at the mention of Hoseokâs name, and I caught the flash of something in his eyesâa 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.
âHoseok?â he repeated, almost like he couldnât believe it. âWhatâs he got to do with you going to a party?â
"I donât know," I said, shrugging. "Maybe Iâll 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 isnât you."
Yoongi didnât 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.
âYouâre really not going to let this go, are you?â he asked, his voice low.
âI donât know,â I replied, leaning forward on my elbows. âYouâve been pretty hard to work with lately. Maybe a break is exactly what I need.â
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. âI didnât ask you not to take a break. Iâm just... trying to get this done.â
I tilted my head, studying him for a moment. "Fine. Just let me know when youâre 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 meâmaybe frustration, maybe curiosityâmade me turn back.
âBy the way,â I said, walking back to Yoongiâs desk. âCould you give me Hoseokâs number? I might need it for the party.â
Yoongi froze for a second, his fingers stopping mid-air as if Iâd just thrown him off balance. His eyes narrowed, and for a second, he didnât 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 didnât 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. âHere. But if you think Iâm going to chase you to the party... youâre wrong.â
I took the paper, glancing at it before shoving it into my pocket. âThanks. Iâll make sure not to expect you there.â
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 itâs at the company building, right? What time should I be there?
The response was almost immediate, Hoseokâs usual energy practically jumping out of the screen.
Hoseok: Yep! Itâs at the company building. Weâll start around 7 PM, but feel free to come anytime after that. You know how these things go. And donât worry, Iâll make sure youâre introduced properly as âProd Kâs assistantâ so no one will know who you really are. Itâll 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. Iâll be there. Can I bring my friend Minji? Sheâd love to come.
Hoseok: Of course! Bring whoever you want. Itâs all about having a good time. Iâm 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 didnât 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, Yoongiâs 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, Iâm 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 donât go overboard, okay? Letâs keep it chill.
Minji: You know I can't do âchillâ when it comes to parties!
I couldnât help but laugh at that. Minji was always up for an adventure. I knew sheâd be bouncing off the walls all weekend in preparation. I didnât 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 weâd made some real progress. The first song was done. It wasnât 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 wasnât 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.
âYeah, we did,â I said, unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips. "Itâs... good."
Yoongi paused, eyes locked on mine for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I guess you donât completely suck at this after all."
I raised an eyebrow, playing along. "Iâm glad to know youâre impressed."
We both laughed softly, the tension that had been hanging between us for weeks finally easing. It was a strange feeling, one I wasnât used to with him, but I couldnât deny it. It felt... nice. Like weâd 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. "Iâll see you on Monday, then. Weâll tackle the next one."
I blinked, taken aback for a second. Monday? Just like that, the professional distance came back. I hadnât 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. Heâs 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 didnât 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 wasnât going to happen. He was Yoongi, professional, distant Yoongi. He wasnât 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 couldnât shake the feeling that something had shifted, but I couldnât 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.
âFinally, a party!â she exclaimed, leaning back and stretching like sheâd just run a marathon. âWeâve been cooped up with that brooding genius for weeks. We need this.â
I rolled my eyes, laying a sleek black turtleneck dress over the back of the chair. âItâs not âweâ. Iâm the one stuck with him in the studio.â
Minji snorted. âYou say that like Iâm not the one dealing with your constant texts complaining about how annoying he is. âMinji, heâs impossible. Minji, heâs a perfectionist. Minji, heâs so irritatinglyâââ
âOkay, okay,â I interrupted, throwing a pillow at her. âI get it.â
She caught the pillow with a grin. âAdmit it, though. Youâre starting to like working with him, arenât you?â
âLike is a strong word,â I muttered, holding up a dark green dress and then discarding it. âWe finally finished one song yesterday. Thatâs it.â
âBut youâre not denying it.â She smirked, standing up to rummage through the pile of clothes Iâd pulled out. âOoh, this oneâs cute.â
She held up a sequined gold dress, and I shook my head immediately. âToo flashy. Iâm not trying to stand out. Just look professional and approachable.â
Minji rolled her eyes. âYou know this is a party, right? Not a corporate meeting?â
âStill. I want to keep a low profile,â 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. âWhat about this?â
Minji tilted her head, considering. âItâs very you. Chic, understated, mysterious. And Yoongiâs probably going to notice you in it.â
I groaned. âNot everything is about Yoongi!â
Minji raised an eyebrow, smirking as she flopped onto the couch. âOh, really? If itâs not about Yoongi, then why are you quoting him like heâs living rent-free in your head?â
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. âBecause itâs relevant! When I told him Hoseok invited me, Yoongi literally said, âBut if you think Iâm going to chase you to the party... youâre wrong.â And yesterday, after we finished the song, he ended with, âSee you Monday.ââ I huffed. âHe couldnât have been clearer about not showing up.â
Minji snorted. âWow. He really went out of his way to make sure you knew, huh?â
âExactly.â I tossed the dress onto the bed. âSo, can we drop this whole âYoongi might surprise you at the partyâ thing? Itâs not happening.â
Minji held up her hands in mock surrender. âAlright, alright. No Yoongi talk. But honestly, he sounds so extra about it. Like, whatâs his deal? Youâre the one who didnât even want to be there with him in the first place.â
âExactly!â I said again, throwing my hands up. âI donât 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 donât have deadlines hanging over my head for one evening.â
Minji smirked knowingly but didnât 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. âWhat about this for me? It screams âIâm the fun friend.ââ
I laughed, shaking my head. âYou donât need a dress to say that. Everyone already knows.â
***
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. âOkay, so, final thoughts: what if Yoongi does show up, despite everything he said?â
I shot her a withering look. âThen Iâll eat my words. But thatâs not happening.â
Minji grinned as we headed out the door. âWeâll see.â
*** 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.
âWelcome, welcome!â Hoseok beamed, his smile as bright as the room itself. âYou made it! I was starting to think youâd ditch last minute.â
Minji laughed. âNot with you hosting, J-hope. She couldnât say no.â
I shot her a quick glare but turned to Hoseok with a polite smile. âThanks for inviting us.â
As we exchanged pleasantries, a small group approached him, each handing over neatly wrapped gifts or gift bags.
âHappy birthday, Hobi!â one of them exclaimed, pulling him into a quick hug before leaving the gift with him.
I blinked, taken aback. âWait... birthday?â I turned to Hoseok, brows furrowed. âIs this... your birthday party?â
Hoseok gave me a sheepish grin. âWell, yeah. Kind of.â
I stared at him, stunned. âYou didnât tell me it was your birthday!â
âOf course, I didnât,â he replied, laughing. âIf I told you, you wouldnât have come. Admit it!â
I opened my mouth to protest, then paused, realizing he wasnât entirely wrong. ââŚOkay, fair. But now I feel terrible. I didnât bring you anything.â
He waved it off with a casual flick of his hand. âDonât even worry about it. Your presence is enough of a gift.â
Minji rolled her eyes playfully. âWow, smooth.â
I ignored her, offering Hoseok a tentative smile. âWell, if thatâs the case, I owe you dinner. My treat. Birthday special.â
Hoseokâs grin widened, and he gave me a mock bow. âIâll hold you to that.â As the party carried on, my mind wandered, unbidden, to Yoongi. If it was Hoseokâs birthday, then surely Yoongi would be here, right? They were bandmates, practically brothers. Despite everything heâd said, it felt impossible that he wouldnât show up to celebrate.
Right?
Hoseok, catching my distracted expression, nudged me lightly. âCome on, let me introduce you to the guys.â
As Hoseok led me through the crowd, I tried to shake off the lingering thoughts about Yoongi. I couldnât help myself, though; the idea that he wasnât here, despite everything, gnawed at me. Was he really just going to stay out of sight, like heâd 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 themâBTSâwas something I wasnât 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 Kâs work. You must also be a pretty big deal if youâre 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 Hoseokâs 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 didnât spot him immediately.
"Minji," I whispered, trying to keep my voice low, "Do you think Yoongiâs 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 heâs coming, heâll show up eventually. For now, just enjoy the party. Youâve earned it."
I sighed and nodded, trying to push the thoughts of Yoongi aside. There was no point in stressing over something I couldnât control.
As the introductions continued, Hoseok pulled me into a more private corner of the room, away from the group for a moment. "Youâre doing great," he said with a genuine smile. "I know this might feel like a lot, but youâre handling it well. The others are just excited to meet you. Theyâve heard a lot about producer K."
"Thanks," I replied, a little surprised at his sudden encouragement. "Iâm 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 donât 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. "Whatâs up, guys?" he said with a smile.
Hoseok grinned and gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, you! This is Y/N, Producer Kâs assistant. Youâve heard a lot about her, right?"
Jungkook looked at me, his expression slightly puzzled at first before breaking into a smile. "Ah, yeah, Iâve 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/Nâthe only member you havenât met yet is Jin. Heâs in the military, so itâs just the rest of us holding down the fort tonight."
I nodded, trying to mask my surprise. "Ah, I didnât 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. Weâre all proud of him, of course. We just miss him, thatâs all."
Jungkook nodded in agreement. "Itâs been a while, but weâll manage. Heâll 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 youâve 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, itâs been good. Just a little overwhelming."
"Totally understandable," Jungkook said, giving me a reassuring smile. "But donât worry. Itâs 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. "Iâll 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... Whereâs 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 havenât seen him since."
I felt a strange mix of disappointment and... relief? I wasnât sure anymore. Maybe it was better this way, but somehow, a part of me couldnât 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 couldnât 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, Iâm going to head somewhere quiet for a bit," I said, my voice a little unsteady. "I just need to lay down, get myself together. Iâll be back in a bit, okay?"
She shot me a playful grin, still bouncing to the beat. "Take care of yourself, girl! Iâll 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 Iâd 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 Iâd 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 donât 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. "Iâm 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, Iâll 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, Yoongiâs 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 couldnât move, couldnât 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 didnât touch me.
His breath was warm against the back of my neck, his presence so tangible that it almost felt suffocating. I couldnât 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 couldnât quite place.
But Yoongi didnât 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 firmââ...stay.â There was no hesitation in his tone, as though he had made up his mind about this. About me.
I didnât turn to face him. I couldnât. But I could hear the subtle shift in his tone. It wasnât just the frustration from beforeâit 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?"
Yoongiâs 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 didnât tell you to leave."
His words were unexpected. I hadnât 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 didnât 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 Iâm 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.
Yoongiâs face faltered. His eyes softened.
"I didnât 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. Thatâs why⌠if I had known you were a woman, I probably wouldnât have agreed to work with you. I didnât 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 hadnât truly processed them until now. Not in that context. I could feel my breath catch in my throat. I didnât 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 didnât seem to notice me. "Yoongi! Whereâs Y/N? She was looking out for you earlier, and then she just disappeared on me."
I couldnât 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 didnât look back. I just needed to get away, to breathe, to think.
But as I walked away, I couldnât stop the images of Yoongiâs eyes on me, his breath on my skin. What had just happened? I wasnât 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 couldnât 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 Iâm 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. Iâll 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 didnât realize I had been holding.
Minji glanced at me, her eyes practically sparkling with mischief as she read me like an open book. âWow. 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. "Youâre 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 didnât want me to go. And then, he... he said some things. I donât know. Things about me being a woman, about my privacy... It just felt like it was all crashing down in one moment."
Minjiâs 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 didnât deny it. He said... he said that he knows Iâm talented and that he wouldnât have worked with me if he knew I was a girl because it couldâve blown my cover. I... I didnât know what to think."
Minji stared at me, processing everything Iâd just said. "Wow. Thatâs a lot. But it sounds like he really didnât want to hurt you, Y/N. I mean, he doesnât want to blow your cover, and heâs not the type to just say stuff for no reason. I think he mightâve been trying to protect you in his own way."
I shook my head, still not fully understanding it all. "Maybe. But it doesnât make it easier. Heâs so confusing, Minji. One minute, heâs mad at me, then weâre... closer than I thought. I donât even know if I want to deal with it."
Minji placed a hand on mine, her expression softening. "Youâre allowed to be confused. I get it. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a good thing. Heâs not the only one with walls up, you know? Youâve got yours too."
I sighed, leaning back again. "Yeah, but this... this is different. Heâs not supposed to make me feel like this."
Minji didnât say anything at first, but then she shrugged slightly. "Look, I canât tell you what to do. But whatever happens, youâll figure it out. You always do."
Her words were comforting, even though I wasnât 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 didnât 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 couldnât 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. Iâd told Minji last night that I wouldnât 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 Iâd left behind. I thought about texting Minji again, but I didnât want to be that person who overanalysed everything. Iâd 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 Yoongiâs eyes flicker briefly in my direction, but he didnât acknowledge me right away. That was fine. No need for anything weird to happen today. I wasnât going to let it.
âMorning,â 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 wasnât that we were talking more, it was just that Yoongi didnât 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?"
âYeah, itâs done,â 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 wasnât gone completely, but it was much more subtle now.
He didnât respond immediately, just tapped a few keys on the keyboard before nodding. âAlright. Letâs hear it.â
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, Yoongiâs brow furrowed slightly, but he didnât 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. âNot bad.â
I couldnât help but feel a small relief wash over me. "Not bad" from Yoongi was a compliment, even if it didnât sound like one. At least he hadnât outright criticized it.
âThanks,â I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel my nerves creeping back up again. âAnything you want me to change?â
Yoongi scratched his chin thoughtfully. âItâs a little too clean. Add some grit, something to make it stand out more. We need it to hit harder.â
I nodded, taking mental notes. âGot it. Iâll work on that.â
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 hadnât 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. âIâm going to grab a coffee. You want anything?â
I blinked, surprised. Heâd never offered to get me anything before, not like this. His tone was casual, though, like it was no big deal.
âIâll take an iced coffee,â I said, half-smiling at the unexpected gesture.
Yoongi didnât say anything, just nodded and walked out of the studio. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I let out a breath I hadnât realized I was holding. It wasnât 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 wasnât imagining it, there was definitely something different today. But I wasnât 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 wasnât 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.
âSee you tomorrow,â I said casually, ready to leave the studio.
Yoongi gave me a small nod, his focus not wavering. âYeah, see you.â
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, Iâm free. Whatâs up?
Y/N: I told you I owe you dinner. Want to grab some barbecue tonight?
Hoseok: Haha, of course I didnât forget! Even Taehyung reminded me about it last night after you left! So yeah, sure, letâs do it. When and where?
Y/N: How about at 7 at that popular spot in Gangnam?
Hoseok: Perfect! Iâll see you there. Iâll be starving by the time we meet!
Y/N: Same here. Iâm ready to eat my weight in meat.
Hoseok: Haha, Iâm 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. "Iâve 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?â
I shrugged, forcing a smile. "Yeah, everythingâs fine," I said, though the words didnât feel entirely true. "We finished the first song. Two more to go, and then weâll be done."
Hoseok didnât seem convinced. He nodded and took a sip of his drink before continuing. "Well, thatâs good. Iâm glad to hear youâre making progress. But, uh... are you sure everythingâs okay with him? You know... since youâve been working really closely together."
I looked down at my hands for a moment, gathering my thoughts. "Itâs fine, Hoseok. Really. Just... we have our days, you know?"
He raised an eyebrow but didnât 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 weâd known each other for years instead of just a month.
At one point, he pulled out his phone. "Hey, Iâd 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. "Iâm really proud of it so far, but Iâd 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. "Itâs got such a great vibe. Itâs... itâs got that perfect energy."
He grinned, clearly pleased with the feedback. "Thanks. Iâm hoping itâs going to be a hit. But, you know, itâs not finished yet. Still got a bit of work to do."
"Well, Iâd be happy to help with anything you need," I said, my tone sincere. "I think youâre on the right track. I can already picture it in a club."
"Yeah? Youâre 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. "Iâm just saying... if youâre up for itâŚ"
"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 weâd eaten our fill and were lounging in our seats, Hoseok pulled out his phone again. "Come on, letâs 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. "Youâre 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. Youâre a lot of fun to hang out with."
I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. "Of course. Iâm glad we did this. Itâs been way too long since Iâve 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 couldnât help but feel a sense of contentment. It had been a good night, and it felt like Iâd finally had a chance to breathe again. The pressure Iâd 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. "Itâs 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. Iâll let you have your moment." He watched me pay, his expression softening into something more genuine. "But next time, Iâm the one picking the place and bill."
"Deal," I said, with a smirk. "But only if itâs something equally as good as tonight."
"Haha, Iâll 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, Yoongiâs feedback became sharper, his tone more clipped.
âCan you take this seriously?â he snapped suddenly after I made a suggestion about the arrangement.
I looked up, startled. âI am taking this seriously. Whatâs going on with you today? You seemed fine yesterday.â
âNothingâs going on,â he said curtly, not looking at me. His fingers tapped at the keyboard with more force than necessary. âYou just need to focus more on the job youâre supposed to do.â
I frowned, confused by his sudden change in attitude. âWeâre making progress,â I said cautiously, trying to keep my voice calm. âIâm confident weâll meet the deadline.â
Yoongi spun his chair to face me, his eyes narrowing. âIf 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.â
His words hit like a slap. I blinked, completely taken aback. âHow do you even know about the dinner?â
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. âHe posted it on Kakao Talk. All the guys were talking about it in the group chat.â
I froze, trying to process what he was saying. Of course Hoseok had shared it, but it was a perfectly innocent dinner, and heâd been excited about it. Still, I felt a strange pang of guilt under Yoongiâs intense gaze.
âI invited him because I felt bad about going to his birthday party without bringing a gift,â I explained, my voice steady but defensive. âI just wanted to make up for it.â
Yoongiâs eyes stayed locked on mine, unreadable. âItâs interesting,â he said coolly, âhow close you are with him. Iâm the one you work with every day. You donât see us going to dinner, do you?â
I opened my mouth to respond but hesitated, unsure of what to say. Before I could gather my thoughts, Yoongi waved a hand dismissively. âNever mind. Letâs just get back to work.â
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. Yoongiâs usual calm, measured feedback was replaced with sharp, almost impatient remarks. It wasnât just the work, something else was clearly bothering him, but I couldnât 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.
âWhatâs going on?â I asked, breaking the tense silence.
âNothing,â he said shortly, not meeting my eyes. âLetâs cut this short today.â
âYoongiââ I started, but he was already slinging his bag over his shoulder.
âIâll see you tomorrow,â 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 couldnât understand why.
As I packed up my things, my mind kept circling back to his words, to the way heâd looked at me. You donât 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 wasnât going to let Yoongiâs mood derail the progress we were making, or my own peace of mind. I had a job to do, and I wasnât 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 wasnât 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.
âAh, shit,â he muttered, glancing at the clock. âItâs late,â rubbing the back of his neck. âWe should stop here for today. Itâs good progress.â
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. âAre you okay?â
âYeah,â I said quickly. âI think Iâm just a little dizzy. Now that I think about it⌠I didnât even eat lunch.â
Without a word, he reached for my wrist and tugged gently. âLetâs go.â
âWait, what?â I asked, caught off guard. âGo where?â
âTo eat,â 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. âYou donât have to do this. Iâll grab something on the way home.â
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 driverâs 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.
âAbout yesterday,â he started, his voice softer than Iâd ever heard it.
I glanced up, momentarily stunned. He wasnât looking at me; instead, his gaze was fixed on his plate, as if the words were hard to push out.
âI was out of line,â 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.
âI took a lot of things out on you,â 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. âThings that werenât your fault. And for that, Iâm sorry.â
The sincerity in his voice made my breath catch. This wasnât the stoic, sharp-tongued producer Iâd been working with for weeks. This was Yoongi stripped of his usual defences, and it threw me off balance.
âYou... Youâre apologizing?â I finally said, a mix of disbelief and teasing slipping into my tone.
His lips twitched into something that wasnât quite a smile. âYeah. Donât make a big deal out of it.â
âI mean, how can I not?â I said, leaning back in my chair, folding my arms in mock astonishment. âMin Yoongi admitting heâs wrong? I didnât think Iâd live to see the day.â
He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. âDonât get used to it.â
Despite his attempt at brushing it off, I could tell the apology mattered to him. He wasnât the type to say things he didnât mean, and the effort behind his words wasnât lost on me.
âLook,â he continued after a moment, his voice steadying. âYesterday... I just have been under a lot of pressure, and I let it get to me. That wasnât fair to you. Youâve been working hard, and I shouldâve recognized that.â
âThank you,â I said, my voice softer now. âThat means a lot.â
I couldnât 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 wasnât 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 wasnât as closed off as Iâd assumed. Maybe there was more to him than Iâd ever expected.
As we stepped outside the restaurant, the crisp night air greeted us. "Hey, you canât drive now since youâve 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."
Yoongiâs expression shifted, and he immediately shook his head. "No," he said, his voice firm. "Iâll handle it. Iâm 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. âItâs getting cold,â 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. âOh, you didnât have to do that,â I said softly.
He waved it off. âItâs fine. Iâm not cold.â
I tilted my head, sceptical. âReally? Your hands must be freezing,â I said, blowing warm air over my own hands and rubbing them together in a futile attempt to warm them.
Yoongiâs 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 didnât 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.
âJihoonâs here,â 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.
âThanks for coming,â Yoongi said, handing him the keys to his car.
âNo problem,â Jihoon replied with a grin. âYou guys look like you had a good night.â
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 Yoongiâs 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. âFocus on something else, anything else,â 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.
âBye,â he said simply, his voice even but low enough to make my stomach flip. âSee you tomorrow.â
I managed a small smile. âOkay. Bye.â
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.
âOh no.â 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: Itâs 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. âDonât overthink it.â
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 itâs 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 albumâs done."
Hoseok leaned against the doorframe, his expression softening slightly. "Damn, itâs hard to believe weâre almost there." His eyes flickered toward Yoongi, then back at me. "Iâm excited, but... also a little nervous. You know, with everything happening soon."
I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Whatâs 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. "Iâm 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, youâre leaving already?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could think.
Hoseok smiled gently, his eyes a little softer than usual. "Yeah. Itâs going to happen soon. So..." He leaned forward, his tone turning playful but with an undercurrent of something more serious. "Iâm going to use that to guilt-trip you two into hanging out with me tomorrow night. Iâm hosting a little get-together at my place. Come along, since youâve worked hard on this album, you deserve a break. You know you want to. Letâs 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. Itâs 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, weâre done with the second track, so it wouldnât hurt to let loose for a night."
Yoongi looked hesitant for a moment, but Hoseok wasnât backing down. "Come on, itâs 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. Iâll come, Hoseok. You donât need to keep trying to guilt-trip us." Yoongi also nodded.
Hoseokâs face lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Yes! Thatâs what Iâm talking about. You wonât regret it. Iâm inviting a few people, and weâll 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 donât 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, thatâs all. Weâre all so busy, and before you know it, Iâll 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, weâre in. What time should we be there?" I asked, already feeling a little more at ease about it.
"7 PM. Donât be late," Hoseok said with a wink. "Iâm going to make sure thereâs 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 couldnât 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 didnât know how often Iâd get moments like these, where things felt normal, light and easy.
"Guess weâre going to Hoseokâs," 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 Yoongiâs eye.
"Guess thatâs 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 weâd gotten along this well, and I wasnât 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.â "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 Hoseokâs party. I kept it simple, a pair of jeans and a loose top. Around 7 PM, I made my way to Hoseokâs 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 wasnât 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.
âY/N! Come join us, we were just talking about the new choreography for a music video,â he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
âOh? What is it about this choreography?â I asked, raising an eyebrow.
Taehyung leaned in with a mischievous grin. âWeâre learning this really complicated move that involves, like, spinning and flipping, but it looks ridiculous when we try it,â he said, laughing.
Jimin jumped in. âTaehyungâs over-exaggerating, itâs not that bad. But weâre definitely working on something new for the next video, and itâs going to be fun.â
âYeah, weâre going to have to rehearse a lot,â Jungkook added with a playful smirk. âTaehyung might need extra practice though,â he teased.
I chuckled. âIâm sure youâll all manage. You guys are pros, after all.â
Taehyung pouted but then grinned again. âYeah, but you should see us try. We look like a bunch of drunk chickens. Maybe weâll film it for behind-the-scenes footage.â
âPlease do, Iâd love to see that,â 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, âAlright, everyone, I think itâs time for a drinking game! Whoâs in? Itâs going to be fun, I promise!â
Jimin immediately jumped up, grinning. âIâm in! Letâs do this!â
âCount me in too,â Taehyung said, raising his hand. âIâm ready to win this game.â
I glanced at Jungkook, who gave a playful nod. âLetâs go. This should be interesting.â
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 couldnât 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 âcouple momentâ 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. Letâs make this quick, yeah?"
We took our shot in sync, laughing after, and I couldnât help but notice the way Hoseokâs 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 âofficial couple.â 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 wasnât drinking either. His gaze was locked on Hoseok and me, and there was a strange tension in his expression. He wasnât judging, but he wasnât 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 wasnât drinking, and he had simply said, âNot feeling like it tonight.â There was something about his tone that made me want to ask more, but I didnât push it. He wasnât the type to open up unless he was ready.
"Alright, Y/N, itâs 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 Yoongiâs eyes briefly flicker towards us. He didnât look away, but he didnât 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, âGuess weâre really the perfect couple, huh?â
I smirked, playing along. âYeah, looks like Iâm stuck with you, Hobi.â
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 couldnât shake the feeling that Yoongiâs 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.
âHey, Hobi,â I said, offering him a warm smile. âI think Iâm going to head out now. Iâve got work tomorrow.â
Hoseok turned to me with a disappointed but understanding expression. âAww, already? Well, it was really fun having you here. You sure you donât want me to come with you?â
I shook my head, grateful for the offer but knowing he had a lot of guests to attend to. âNah, you stay and enjoy. Iâll just grab a taxi. Iâll be fine.â
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.
âIâm leaving. Iâll take Y/N with me,â 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. âIâll see you soon, okay? Thanks for everything tonight.â
Hoseok smiled back, still a little surprised by Yoongiâs sudden intervention, but he nodded. âAlright, take care. See you soon.â
I didnât give him a chance to say anything else before I quickly made my way toward the door, following Yoongi. I couldnât help but feel a little flustered. What just happened? Why did Yoongi suddenly decide to take me home?
âYoongi, wait up!â 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. âYoongi⌠you didnât have to do this, you knowâŚâ
He didnât look at me as he continued walking, but his voice was calm. âItâs fine. Youâre not going to take a taxi alone this late. Itâs safer this way.â
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 Yoongiâs 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 wasnât 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.
âThanks,â I said softly, already preparing to say my goodbyes as I stepped out.
But before I could, Yoongi spoke up, his tone surprisingly serious. âActually⌠Can I have my jacket back?â
I blinked in confusion, not entirely sure Iâd heard him right. âSeriously?â I asked, laughing a little at the unexpected request. âYouâre really asking for it back now?â
He glanced at me with a small shrug, his eyes hiding whatever thoughts were going through his mind. âItâs cold,â he said simply.
I let out a sigh. âOkay, follow me. I took it from the dry cleaners today, and I was planning on bringing it to you tomorrow.â
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.
âSo, you and Hobi, huh?â
I paused for a second, confused by the sudden shift in the conversation. âWhat about me and Hobi?â
âWell, all the dinners, the flirting today with the love shots⌠is there anything I should know about?â His gaze was steady, but I could see something flicker in his eyes.
I shook my head, trying to keep my tone light. âNo, weâre just friends. Heâs actually a nice person who respects me and my work.â
Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just me overthinking things, but Yoongiâs next words caught me off guard. âBut I thought these past few days we were on good terms as well.â
I felt a little defensive at that. âBut Iâm not working with Hobi. Iâm not under a contract with him.â
Yoongi didnât seem satisfied. âBesides all that, I still felt like we could be more than just coworkers.â
I blinked, not sure if I understood him right. âWhat? Do you want us to be friends?â I joked, trying to deflect the tension.
Yoongiâs eyes narrowed slightly, but I continued âDo you even hear yourself right now? If I had told Min Yoongi two months ago that heâd be asking me to be friends, he wouldâve laughed in my face.â
Yoongiâs expression darkened for a moment. âHell no, I donât want to be friends with you.â
I crossed my arms, trying to hide the sudden heat rising to my cheeks. âPff, then I donât want to be friends with you either,â I shot back, scoffing. âBesides, youâre 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.â
Yoongiâs eyes flickered with irritation. âIâm not sulking because you are friends with him, I am because you are close to a guy thatâs not me.â His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it.
âWhat?â I asked, genuinely confused.
Yoongi took a step closer, his expression darkening. âLetâs cut the crap. Youâre telling me that after everything thatâs been happening these past two months, the tension, the lingering touches⌠you never felt anything?â His eyes were locked onto mine, searching for something in them.
My breath hitched in my throat, but before I could respond, he continued. âAnd after what happened at Hobiâs birthday party⌠you didnât move away from me. Hell, you were practically begging me to kiss you with the way you were looking at me. Donât tell me you werenât thinking about it too.â
I froze, my mind racing, trying to process his words. I hadnât 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.
âWhat? I donât know what youâre talking about,â I stammered, stepping back slightly, trying to play it cool, but my heart was pounding in my chest. Yoongiâs gaze was intense, his expression unreadable, and I couldnât help but feel exposed under the weight of his words. Was he serious? Was I imagining all of this? I didnât want to admit it, but everything he said was starting to make sense, whether I liked it or not.
Yoongi didnât seem satisfied with my denial. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine with a new intensity. âOh really?â he murmured, his voice low and steady, but there was a hint of something sharper in it now. âThen tell me to stop.â
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⌠didnât react. I couldnât. 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 couldnât 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.
âIâ maybe I misunderstood,â 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.
Yoongiâs eyes flicked to the ground for a second, and he muttered a curse under his breath. âFuckâŚIâm sorry⌠I actually thoughtâŚâ 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 couldnât let him walk away thinking he had made a mistake. I couldnât 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 hadnât 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 didnât quite make sense yet. I took a step back, trying to catch my breath, still processing everything that had just happened. "Whatâs 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 didnât 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 wasnât 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 wasnât rushed, but full of something more than just desire.
Yoongiâs 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 didnât 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 didnât pull away, didnât 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 couldnât deny it anymore.
"Iâ" 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.
Yoongiâs eyes softened, just a little. He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine once more, but this time, it wasnât 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. Yoongiâs voice was low and dripping with desire as he whispered, âGood, because Iâve been dying to know how you tasteâŚâ
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.
âWaitâŚâ I whispered, my voice shaky. Gathering what little confidence I had, I added, âItâs only fair you lose a piece of clothing too.â
His eyebrow quirked up in amusement. âDesperate to see me naked already, Y/N?â he teased.
âHuh, youâre the one who just claimed youâve been dying to know how Iââ
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.
âThere. Happy now?â he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.
This man. Such a tease.
âMuch better,â I quipped with a smirk of my own.
âNow, let me finish what I started,â he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. âLet you experience my famous tongue technology...âŚâ 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.
âWho callsââ 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 didnât 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.
âYoongi,â I managed to whisper, my voice shaky and strained, but he didnât 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.
âYoongiâŚâ 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. âThat was to answer your question,â he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. He ran his tongue slowly over his lips, collecting anything heâd missed, and the sight alone sent another wave of heat through me.
I couldnât let him have the upper hand, not entirely. Tugging at his hair, I directed him back between my thighs. âLess talking,â I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, âmore doing.â
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.
Yoongiâs 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.
âYoongi,â I gasped, my voice breaking as my body tensed beneath his touch. âI think Iâm gonnaââ
âCum on my mouth, baby,â 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 didnât 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.
âYou taste better than I imagined,â he murmured, and my cheeks flushed at his confession. How many times had this man fantasized about this? It wasnât like I hadnât 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. âY/N⌠you donât have to. Just becauseââ
âI want to,â I interrupted, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest. His breath escaped in a shaky exhale at my words.
âBesides,â I teased, leaning in closer, my lips brushing against his ear, âlet me show you what other sounds these hands can produce.â
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.
âY/N⌠donât tease me,â he groaned, his voice thick with need.
âMe? Tease you?â 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. âY/NâŚâ 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.
âY/NâŚâ 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, âRelax.â 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.
âFuckâŚâ 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.
âYouâre driving me crazy,â he muttered, his voice rough and breathless.
âGood,â I teased, leaning in to kiss his collarbone, my lips trailing over the sharp lines of his neck. âThatâs the idea.â
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.
âY/N,â 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. âIâmââ
âI know,â I cut him off softly, my hand never slowing.
His half-lidded eyes met mine, his skin glistening with sweat. âWhereâŚ?â he managed to ask, his voice barely audible.
I didnât 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 couldnât get enough.
When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against my shoulder, his voice soft but filled with satisfaction. âFuck, youâre incredible.â Yoongiâs hand trailed lazily across my skin, finding the thin strap of my bra under my shirt. âNext time,â he murmured, his voice low and teasing, âIâll make sure youâre not wearing anything at all.â
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. âAs much as I love this view,â he teased, casting a lingering look at me sprawled on the sofa now, âwe might want to at least partially dress before someone accidentally walks in.â Rolling my eyes, even though I lived alone, I reached down to grab my panties, slipping them on with a quick movement. âHappy now?â I quipped, arching an eyebrow as he smirked at me.
âNot entirely,â 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.
âAnd why is that?â 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.
âBecause, Iâve been messing up so far,â he said, his voice soft but firm, â but Iâm not letting you go away this time.â
I blinked, startled by the quiet sincerity in his tone. It wasnât just a playful remark; it felt like a promise, one that made my heart flutter and my chest tighten all at once.
âYouâre stuck with me now, Y/N,â he added, resting his chin on the top of my head. âHope you can handle that.â
I couldnât help but smile, burying my face against his chest to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. âWeâll see,â 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 Yoongiâs 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 surrealâlike 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 couldnât stop the questions from flooding my mind, each one louder and more insistent than the last. For me, it hadnât 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 shouldâve 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 Minjiâs name on the screen. Great, this better not be about work, I thought as I pressed the phone to my ear.
âHello?â I said curtly.
âY/N, are you okay?â Minjiâs tone was brisk but edged with concern.
âWhat do you mean?â I asked, more annoyed than curious.
Minji sighed heavily on the other end. âThatâs good. Youâre fine. I was worried for a second. Didnât you hear? Someone raided HYBE last night. A crazy fan broke in and they believe they were trying to expose Sugaâs album.â
âWhat?â I froze, my heart skipping a beat as her words sank in.
âYeah, itâs all over the news this morning. Securityâs gone into overdrive,â Minji continued. âAnyway, just wanted to check if you were caught up in any of it.â
âI have to go,â I said abruptly, hanging up before she could respond.
My mind raced. If HYBE had been raided and rumours about Yoongiâs 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 hadnât noticed me yet, too absorbed in his conversation.
âPlease make sure theyâre caught and thoroughly questioned about what they saw,â he said, his tone firm but composed. Whoever he was speaking to replied, but I couldnât make out the words.
Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. âYeah, I know we had contracts here. Honestly, I donât care about the album, itâs going to get released soon anyway. What matters is that Producer Kâs information stays protected. Make sure no sensitive details leak, okay?â He paused to listen again. âAlright. Call me as soon as you have any updates.â
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.
âHey,â I said, breaking the silence. âWhatâs going on?â
Yoongiâs 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.
âSomeone broke into HYBE last night,â he began, his voice steady but laced with frustration. âThey managed to get into a secure area. Luckily, nothing was taken, at least nothing physical, but thereâs still a risk of leaks.â
I blinked, processing his words. âSo⌠this morningââ
He cut me off with a sheepish smile. âShit, Iâm sorry. I shouldâve woken you up, but you looked so peaceful, and I didnât want to disturb you. When I got the call, I panicked. I didnât 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 weâre okay. Nothing seems to have been compromised.â
My chest loosened at his explanation, relief washing over me. âSo⌠you didnât leave because you regretted it?â My voice came out quieter than I intended. âIt felt like⌠maybe you didnât care about anything that happened yesterday.â
Yoongiâs eyes widened, and he stepped closer to me, closing the distance between us in just a few strides. âAhh, baby,â he said, his tone filled with disbelief. âAre you kidding me? How could I ever regret it?â
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.
âYoongi!â I squealed, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck.
âYouâre stuck with me now,â 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.
âAnd donât even think about doubting me again,â 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 producerâs table, the one weâd 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. âLooks like weâre making more music, Producer K,â 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.
âYou taste soo good,â 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.
âAre you going to fuck me or not?â 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. âYes, right here on this table,â he murmured, his voice deep and full of promise. âIâm going to make you feel so good, baby.â
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 didnât 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.
âYour skin is so soft,â 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. âYouâre perfect,â 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. âPleaseâŚâ 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.
âYoongi!â I cried out, my hands gripping his shoulders in frustration. Yoongi chuckled softly at my frustration, his deep voice resonating in the quiet studio. âPatience, baby,â he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth. âI want to savour this.â
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.
âPleaseâŚâ I whimpered again, my voice trembling.
âGod, youâre so needy,â 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. âAre you okay?â he asked softly, his gaze searching mine.
âYes,â I breathed, nodding. âI need you, Yoongi⌠all of you.â
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.
âYou feel so good,â 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.
âYoongiâŚâ 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. âThatâs it, baby. Let me hear you.â
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.
âIâm close,â I managed to gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pressed my forehead against his.
âNot so fastâŚâ 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.
âYoongi, I think Iââ
âLeave it on,â 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.
âYoongi,â I moaned, my voice trembling. âIâm going toââ
âMe too,â 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.
âFuck,â 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. Yoongiâs hand slid up my back, his touch gentle now as he leaned down to press a soft kiss between my shoulders.
âYouâre perfect,â 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. âYouâre pretty perfect yourself,â I replied breathlessly.
His lips quirked into a smirk as he helped me straighten up, his hands still lingering on my waist. âYou keep driving me crazy when thereâs work to be done,â he said, his voice still low, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
âWork?â 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 recordingâŚ"
Yoongi's gaze followed mine to the screen.
I stifled a laugh, trying to process the situation. "We... we didnât justâ"
"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. "Thatâs... 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 didnât mean to! What ifâwhat if someone listens to that? You have to delete itâŚ"
Yoongi leaned back in his chair, still chuckling. "Relax, Iâm pretty sure the only one whoâs ever going to hear that is you... and maybe me, when Iâm in need of some... inspiration."
I shot him a mock glare. "Youâre terrible."
But the laughter between us continued, as if weâd 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 whoâs 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-Hopeâs 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 couldnât. 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. "Youâre going to see him off right?"
"Of course," Yoongi replied, his voice warm but heavy with the realization that things were changing. "Heâs my brother. Iâm 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 canât."
"I know," Yoongi murmured, squeezing my hand. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Itâs just... itâs tough for both of us, huh?"
I nodded again, my chest tight. "Yeah. Itâs not just about J-Hope going. Itâs 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. Whatâs going on?"
I looked up and forced a grin, trying to act casual. "Nothing, justâ"
J-Hope walked over with a playful glint in his eyes, crossed his arms. "You know, Iâve always seen the tension between you two," he said with a teasing smirk. "Thatâs 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-Hopeâs words. "Really? You were the one pushing her?"
I laughed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Well, it worked, didnât 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 Iâm gone, make sure you both take care of yourselves. Yoongi, I know youâll 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. Weâve got your back. Always."
J-Hope smiled at us both, his eyes a mixture of gratitude and affection. "I know. Thanks, guys. Iâll 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 couldnât 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 Yoongiâs voice came through again. It was softer this time, almost like he wasnât sure if he should say the words that were coming.
âThis last song is a very last-minute addition to the album,â he began, his tone low and a little more introspective. âMaking this album have a total of 10 tracks. I felt like this album was missing something... and this track summarizes everything thatâs been going on with me lately. Itâs called SDL.â
I froze, heart pounding in my chest. I hadnât 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 couldnât 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 wasnât just a trackâit was a message. A message that had left me reeling, and I wasnât 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 wasnât 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 whatâs 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... Iâm your inspiration?"
He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yes. You know Iâm not great with my feelings, and better than anyone, you understand how hard it is for me to express myself. With everything thatâs 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."
âWhy didnât you play it for me before? In private?â I asked, my voice soft but laced with curiosity.
âI wanted it to be a surprise, like a big romantic gesture that only we would recognize,â he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. âI felt like I needed to redeem myself for how I acted at the start. To be honest, we were so good together that Iâm sure we couldâve finished those tracks in less than a month. But I kept being a jerk, nit-picking everything just so weâd 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 wasnât ready to let that go so easily.â
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 Yoongiâs. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if I were trying to tell him everything I couldnât put into words. It was a kiss full of everything: love, apology, understanding, and a promise for more. We didnât 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.
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I really love this prompt, so I had to write something.
after the death of Jackie's lovely grandparents, his family got the estate and their cat. It was all fine and dandy as they started to move in, most things being as they were when his grandparents had lived there. The antique furniture was somehow in perfect condition, not a single scratch from the cat.
Jackie's room was going to be in the attic, so he started to clean out all the old junk. Sorting through stuff that would be worth money and old trash, keeping the antique and the yard sale pile separate. He found some old family photos and portates, setting them aside for later, most likely just planning to throw them away after getting photos of his grandparents.
After a while his parents called him down for dinner. on his way down he nearly tripped over the cat, causing it to meow up at him, it had such a tiny and kitten like mewl. He picked up the fluffy calico and headed to the kitchen. "What was the cats name again?" He asked as the cat jumped from his arms and sat down by its bowl. "I dont remember, it might've just been chat. You can rename her if you want." His mother said as she put together a meal from what they had at the moment. "That's a boy cat," He lifted the calico up by its sides. "See, he has balls." His father laughed at that but his mother didn't find it as funny. "Jackie, I dont want to see a cats genitals before I'm about to eat." The cat wiggled out of his grip, then he sat down to eat with his family.
After dinner he had almost forgotten about the pictures until he tripped over a box of them, making them scatter. With a sigh he began to pick them up, notice a cat in a few of them. A lot of them. Old ones. At first he thought it was just another calico cat, maybe an ancestor of the current cat. But then he noticed over the decades worth of photos, that the patterns stayed the same. Always the same.
He quickly checked the back of the photos, the ones that included the cats name all had him as Sasha. Same pattern. Same name. Same cat.
He rushed downstairs with the photos to show his family, almost tripping over the cat again, but this time he swiftly ran past instead of picking him up.
When he got to his family he frantically told them about the cat as they sat on the couch, they did not look concerned at all. Not one bit. They laughed it off and told him to get ready for bed. When the cat rubbed against his legs he jumped and whisper yelled "I know your secret." Before he ran off again.
He closed the attic door and locked it. Ignoring the meows and scratching that followed a few minutes later; he curled up in his bed and tried to sleep, hoping that this was just a bad dream.
When he woke up the photos in his hand were gone. Maybe it was just a dream after all. As he sat up with a yawn he spotted the cat, sitting at the edge of his mattress. Just a dream. Please? "Hey... S-sasha, that's not actually your name though, that had to have just been a dream... Right Sasha?" The cat meowed in response to his words. He quickly leapt up and ran for the door, it was still locked. It couldn't have been a dream. How did the cat get up there? How was it alive? He heard it's small feet patter forward and he quickly unlocked the door before running downstairs.
He spent his whole day avoiding that cat, spending most of it with his mother as he helped her clean up the house a bit.
The cat kept following him, somehow getting into locked rooms and watching him from windows when he was outside.
He couldn't run forever, and he watched in dread as the cat slowly approached hid bed when he finally had to sleep. He wanted to run, to scream, to do something, but he had stayed awake and avoidant for two days and he couldn't keep his eyes open, no matter how scared he was. He felt paralyzed as his eyes slid shut and he felt something else get on his bed. "Shhh, no one has to know. Let's keep this a secret, ok boy?" What felt like a hand touched his face, two fingers prying one of his eyes open. "Right?" The figer in front of him was still rather small and surprisingly humanoid, it was just a bit smaller than him. Sashas hair was long and fluffy; it was patched with browns and blacks, with streaks of white. His skin was similar. His eyes were still big and cold brown.
He managed a small nod, then Sasha let go and got off the bed as Jackie quickly fell asleep, more likely from magic than exhaustion at this point.
(Sasha btw. I had to draw him. Might draw Jackie next.)
I had to sit down and think about how I would make a person calico. I actually really like it. might render it later.
I need to stop drawing feminine men though...
Your grandparent passes and your parents inherit the palatial estate as well as the care for its cat. After going through several family records you realize the cat has been inherited throughout the generations. You try telling others but they forget. Now it keeps trying to be alone with you.
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plot ââ tasked with interviewing actor drew starkey about his latest movie, you unintentionally steal the spotlight, leaving him blushing and lost for words under your mesmerizing gaze.
content ââ reader being toooo pretty that drew is just like woah, drew being so observant ugh love him, reader not even trying to get his attention at all but ure just so alluring to him
authors note ââ yea FUCK my series even tho i made that poll tbh im just so unmotivated. i saw this pic of drew n had some ideas for this lil oneshot of reader interviewing him post-premiere or something and him literally falling in love n reader noticing the little things n he becomes soheart eyes for u omg
you were a little nervous, to say the least. it was supposed to be a one-on-one interview, which somehow felt more intense than group ones with an entire cast. at least in those, the attention wasnât entirely on you. but now? now it was just you and drew starkey, a handful of questions, and an awkwardly large camera crew standing just out of frame, watching everything. no pressure, right?
your boss had insisted that this interview focus on drewâs performance in his latest film. fair enough, but it also meant no backupâno costar to bounce off of or share the spotlight. it felt intimate in a way you werenât entirely comfortable with, no matter how many times youâd done this. at the end of the day, it was just you sitting across from a celebrity while everyone else quietly judged your ability to hold a conversation.
you had almost turned this job down when you first started, not because of the nerves (though there were plenty) but because of the sheer vulnerability of it. still, the exposure wasnât bad, and the paycheck? even better.
as you stepped into the room, clipboard in hand, the tension in your chest tightened just a bit. drew starkey, an actor you were only somewhat familiar with, sat casually in his chair. outer banks, hellraiser, the other zoeyâyouâd done your homework, skimming through his projects like your career depended on it. because, well, it kind of did. and he was . . . well, better looking in person, if that was even possible. the kind of face that made you forget you had questions to ask in the first place.
meanwhile, drew had been at this for hours. interviews were basically part of the job, but after a while, they all blended together. same questions, same conversations, just with different faces. he was tired but not miserable, holding onto the thought of dinner plans with some friends later that night.
interviews werenât badâhe liked the connection when it happened, like the guy he was first interviewed by had laughed when he cracked a jokeâbut there was only so much charm drew could muster after a full day of talking about himself and the same film.
when you walked into the room, he barely glanced up at first. another assistant, probably, or someone from the crew running around to keep things moving. he didnât pay much attention until you stopped right in front of him, introducing yourself and the network you worked for, arm extended for a handshake.
his gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, he forgot how to move, but he pulled himself together quickly, or at least he hoped it looked that way. he shook your hand, smiling the kind of easy, practiced smile heâd perfected over the years, but there was something a little shaky in his voice when he said, ânice to meet you.â
he sat back down, reminding himself to focus. you were a professional. he was a professional. this was just another interview. but it was hard to ignore the way his heart picked up every time you looked at him like thatâfocused, curious, maybe even a little nervous yourself. he wasnât sure what it was about you, but for the first time that day, he couldnât wait for the next question.
his hand went to his earlobe almost instinctively, a nervous habit he hadnât really noticed until now. yeah, you were . . . stunning, in the kind of way that made him feel like he should stand up straighter or check his hair. if someone had told him you were a celebrity, he wouldnât have questioned it. but the fact that you were here to interview him? that just felt unfair.
but the interview was smooth, the kind heâd done a hundred times before. the questions were predictable again, circling around the same themes: his character, the challenges of filming, the energy on set. drew answered easily, slipping into that familiar rhythm, but every so often, his focus waveredânot on the questions, but on you.
you glanced down at your list, scanning it for the next prompt, and then back up at him with those eyes. god, those eyes. drew swore they could make anyone feel like they were the only person in the room, even though he knew there were at least ten crew members just beyond the cameras.
he noticed it, thoughâhow bored you seemed, even if you were too professional to let it show. your smile was polite, your tone unwavering, but every now and then, you hesitated just slightly before asking him a question, like you were already tired of the script youâd been given.
and then there was him, barely able to hold eye contact. it was almost embarrassing when he caught himself smiling at you, just a small, almost shy curve of his lips, but it was enough for you to pause, tilting your head slightly as if you were studying him.
"are you okay?" you asked softly, your own lips quirking into a smile that practically knocked the wind out of him.
it was such a simple exchange, but drew could feel the heat creeping up his neck. âyeah. yeah, iâm . . . awesome,â he managed, clearing his throat and looking away for half a second before his eyes found their way back to yours. he had to play it off, had to stay professional, but the way you smiled back at him, like his answer had made your day a little brighter? it felt like a win. still, he reminded himself: there was only so much time left. you were on a clock, and he couldnât afford to waste it, even if you made it almost too easy to get distracted.
you just laughed, accepting his answer, but the moment lingered. your smile lingered. and the questions rolled on, one after another. nothing groundbreaking, but you kept it light, adding just enough to make it feel like a conversation. drew appreciated that. but eventually, after a particularly shared laughâhe couldnât even remember what the joke had beenâhe leaned in slightly, his voice carrying a hint of playful curiosity.
âokay, so what did you think about the movie?â he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. it caught you off guard; he could tell by the way your posture shifted, your pen stilling over your notes.
and then you started talking.
at first, it was simpleâa few observations, some praise for the direction, the performances. but the more you went on, the more animated you became, your voice lifting slightly, your words flowing effortlessly. you dove deep, unraveling moments and emotions from the film like youâd been holding them in since the premiere. drew leaned back, one hand resting against his chin as he watched you, utterly mesmerized.
you talked about the subtlety of his character, how his guarded exterior felt like a shield hiding something raw and vulnerable. you mentioned the tension between the charactersâthe way their connection felt like a push-and-pull dance neither could fully commit to but couldnât walk away from either. you dissected the music, the cinematography, how it all wove together like a symphony of yearning and restraint.
and the way you talked about his performance . . .
you didnât gush, which he appreciated, but your words were thoughtful, specific. you spoke about his quiet expressions, the way he held so much in his body languageâthe hesitation in his glances, the way his character seemed to pull back just when you thought heâd lean in. it was like youâd been watching with a magnifying glass, picking apart moments even he hadnât considered.
he couldnât stop himself from grinning. not just because you liked the movie, though that didnât hurt, but because it was you. you, sitting across from him, completely unaware of how captivating you looked while tearing apart his work in the best possible way. if someone had asked him to focus on anything other than the way you gestured, your fingers brushing lightly against the edge of your clipboard, or the way your lips curved when you spoke, he wouldâve failed miserably.
drew just sat there, watching you, and he couldnât help but smile. you werenât just prettyâyou were sharp, insightful, and clearly so much more than the routine questions your clipboard suggested.
âyouâre good at this,â he said when you finally paused for a breath, and he meant it. but he couldnât help the slight teasing edge in his tone, the way his smile softened just a little as his eyes met yours again.
#drew#drew starkey#drew starkey x you#drew starkey smut#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey fic#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey imagine#drew x you#drew blurb#drew smut#drew fic#drew imagine#drew fanfic#drew fanfiction
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⼠keep on cominâ back
babydaddy!toji x fem!reader
the reason he keeps on comin back.
tags: dilf toji, explicit language, dirty talking, creaming, squirting, mentions of breeding, missionary, riding, creampie, nipple play, spanking, etc.
note: shoutout to oomf who said toji keeps coming back to me, you the inspo for this.
âWhat are you doing here? Itâs not my weekâhi megs, mimi!â you diverted your attention from your baby daddy to your adopted son and your daughter, hugging their small bodies; before letting them inside of your house.
Turning back around to block him from getting in, you bring up your question again. âWhat are you doing here? Donât think youâre getting any, last time was a mistake.â
âLast time we almost gave those two another sibling and I didnât hear you complaining when you were screaming my name and scratching my back up, while i made you cum back to back.â You bit your lip as he helped you remember the last time he unexpectedly came over, which led to you having multiple mind blowing orgasms that night; and a pregnancy scare.
âwell thatâs never gonna happen again. now are you gonna answer me?â you stared at his green eyes, arms folded over one anotherâunconsciously pushing your boobs up through your black beater.
âmegumiâs supposed to be having a sleepover with his best friend, yuuji, at our place, but the plumbingâs backed up for like a good week. so, he asked could we do it at mommyâs house. plus, mimi said she missed her mommy.â you cooed and looked back at your daughter and step-son, watching them play with one another.
and before you could open your mouth up to ask a follow up question, toji beat you to the punch.
âtried to find somewhere else for me to go. but, there wasnât any hotels available. and i think it would be great for the kids to have both parents under one roof. what do ya think?â he asked and you sighed, before moving aside to let him in.
âbags are in the truck,â he smiled and kissed your cheek, turning on his heel to grab their things from his car.
being in an on again and off again relationship with each other was took a toll on you both, but it was also tough for the kids. they couldnât understand why mommy and daddy arenât together, however it was moments like this they were happy to have. and deep down inside, you both felt the same.
Toji returned with their bags and made his way up their stairs to the kids room, and the guest bedroom, with mimi hot on his tail. While the two of them got situated upstairs, megumi followed you into the kitchen to help you with tonightâs meal. You giggled as you watched him put on his mini apron before stepping onto his stool to watch you clean some meat for dinner.
Megumi watched with an intent stare as you moved with ease, learning from you while you cooked. âmommy? do you love dad?â
his question caught you by surprise and you nearly sliced your finger off. âyes, but not as much as i love you,â he giggled when you ruffled his raven locks before focusing back on the meal. although megumiâs mom died when he was a baby, you still loved him like he was your own. and truth be told, you really did love toji; no matter how many times he annoyed you.
âso, then why arenât you guys married? my friend yuuji said that his dad said if two people love each, they should marry each other. plus, i saw this shiny ring in dadâs room at the other houseââ
you eyes were wide. a fucking ring? thereâs no wayâmaybe heâs got someone else in mindâŚright?
��mmâŚi donât know. hey, you wanna have that sleepover still? go get the house phone and Iâll call yuujiâs dad.â you nervously laughed and watched him leave, before sighing out.
thereâs no way, right?
â
the next couple of hours flew by, your mind was practically a blurâstill caught up on the fact that toji has a ring and that he could possibly propose to you.
even though you guys broke up on good terms, parts of you missed him. real bad. you missed having him in your arms at night. missed his scent being all over you. missed him being with you and the kids. missed having him so deep inside of you almost every night.
and the reason the two of you broke up was because of him. he pushed you away, pushed you away from his heart.
yuuji came over and was having a ball with your kids, before the three of them crashed for the night, finally allowing you to have some time for yourself. you lounged on your plush brown couch, glass of wine in your hand as you caught up with one of your favorite shows, when tojiâs deep voice echoed through your ears.
âknew I would find you here. what are ya watching?â
âuhh supernaturalâŚ.toji can i ask you a question?â
âya just did,â he chuckled and ducked when you hit him in the head with a throw pillow. âyou know what i meant.â he nodded and you sipped some more of your wine before turning to look at him, your heart beating out of your chest; while you felt a heartbeat elsewhere.
âthe ring you have, is that for me?â there was pause and his eyes caught yours. and before he could open his mouth, you spoke once more.
âmegâs told me you had it. do you really wanna marry me? do you thinkââ your nervous rambling was caught off by his lips. the scar on his upper lip rubbing smoothly against yours, making you moan out. and when he pulled away, you whimpered; yearning for more.
âgotta teach him to keep secrets. damn big mouth.â he teased megumi and you gave him a slight kick, giggling at him, before he pulled you onto his lapâyour plush thighs melting against his waist.
âbut, yeah. âm gonna marry you. make you mine and pump you full of my babies,â his last comment sent shivers up your spine and you could feel your panties moisten with arousal. the tension was overwhelming and you couldnât take it anymore. you crawled off his lap and swiftly pulled his dark grey sweatpants down to his knees, making his fat cock spring to life; before you immediately wrapped your plump lips around his head.
toji sucked in some air and tangled his thick fingers in your hair, pulling it while you worked your way down his dick. his cock was coated with your salvia, dripping down from his angry red tipâto the top of his balls, before you scooped it up and rubbed it all over him.
he was in pure bliss. basking in the sheer pleasure you were giving him. his jaw clenching as you made a sloppy messy on him, trying to suppress the moans that wanted to slip; until you swirled against his frenulum & teased his tip, making him loudly groan out.
you released him with a âpopâ sound echoing, your small hands jerking him off while you maintained eye contact with him, âshhh donât wanna wake them up. now do we?â the look on his face sent a jolt of electricity up your spine and to your aching cunt, causing a switch to flip inside of you.
he watched you quickly pull your panties down, your slick sticking to the fabric, webs of your arousal following; before you squatted down onto his lap once more. âneed you inside. need you to cum deep inside of me.â
you whined when you pushed him in, walls immediately stretching out and wrapping around him. this is what he missed. this is why he kept coming backâŚ..well, one of the reasons.
his hands met your hips and helped guide you up and down on his dick, tip pressing into your cervix every once and a while. it didnât take long for the moans to flow out freely from your mouth as you continued to bounce, stuffing you. and soon, you became even more gushy, cunt squelching while cream started form around his baseâsticking to your skin while you moved.
âfuck youâre so tight. missed this pussy,â his hands collide with your ass, the fat rippling from the impact. he gripped the globes of your ass, loving the soft fat, before resting his hands on one of your cheeks.
everything about this felt sooo good. the noises you created and the touches he was giving you, was sheer bliss and you could feel an orgasm approaching. toji could feel you clenching down on him repeatedly and he groaned at the sensation. with his free hand he pulled the sleeves to your beater downâpushing it down a littleâbefore putting one of your plump mounds into his mouth.
the warm, wet feeling of his mouth made you throw your head back; still enduring the workout of bouncing on his fat cock.
he didnât know how he was able to last this long inside of you, especially with how long itâs been since the last time and the unbelievable head you gave him. but, he was nearing his end too.
you could feel his hands move to your waist, before your back met the soft plushness of the couch and your legs were planted at his sides. now, his cock was nestled deep inside of your tummy, hitting your spot each time he thrusted.
toji reached underneath your thighs and pulled out your wet sticky underwear, putting it into your mouth to muffle the lewd noises that left your lips. your eyes was rolling back into your head as he fucked an orgasm out of you. well, that is until he pulled you by your hair; forcing you to watch him fuck everything out of you.
âlook at the mess yer makinâshit! cum for me mamasâ
oh the mess you made.
specks of white blurred your vision as you stomach caved in and a stream of clear fluid splashed out, drenching his black t-shirt and the cushions underneath. you had reached nirvana, but the pleasure didnât stop there.
tojiâs grip on your hair tightened while he pounded your cunt sillyâsplitting you open, pumping thick white ropes of his seed inside of you.
unable to formulate any words, he just smashed his lips onto yours; hands around your neck as the two of you shared the best orgasms of your lives.
this was it. this is exactly what you wanted. what he needed. why he kept coming back.
he sat back, catching his breath while you started to come back to reality, staring at you with pure love. âguess we gotta order a new crib. hm?â
#dad toji#dilf toji x y/n#dilf toji x reader#baby daddy toji#dilf toji#toji is a dilf#jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji x you#toji x reader#jjk toji smut#dilf toji smut#jjk smut#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro smut
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PLEASE ELABORATE PELASE
Shout out to you and the anon who wrote this:
[Please elaborate about consensual intox play with Sammy, I miss my masochistic guard dog of a boy <3]
For enabling me-
-
[ (consensual) Drugging, Submissive Yan, mentions of alcohol and weed]
He plays it off as a passing thought- A reoccurring fantasy he knows will haunt him until he hears your opinion on the idea.
"I don't really drink... Everyone I've drank with says I'm a lightweight which some think is funny due to how tall I am.. One beer is enough to get me tipsy.."
Sammy bites his lip hard enough to make them bleed- It's so embarrassing, almost humiliating to speak about his desires aloud. You're the only person he'd ever want to play them put with, so it's better out than in.
"Would you ever be interested in... using me while I'm under the influence?"
There's nothing Sammy yearns for more than being under your complete control. Eyelids drooping as you inch closer, encouraging him to take just one more sip. His fingers unable to properly suction to the glass as his weight slumps against the couch, motor skills lose to a battle he had no hope of winning as whatever you gave him hits his system.
"Having a little trouble, Sam? It's okay, I'll take good care of you. Why don't I help you get out of that stuffy sweater? You're burning up, sweet boy-"
Teasing him more, strip him bare and ravage him to your heart's content. Call him useless, useless without you there to pick up the pieces. He can't do a thing without you in this state - so hopelessly dependant as his lips struggle to form the sentences needed to beg you for all you can give.
All this, but with a Stoner Darling instead-
Sammy writhing in anticipation waiting for the edibles Darling gave him to kick in. Watching them take a puff from their smoking method of choice, wishing they'd force it down his throat in the next breath. Poking fun at him for being so out of his mind from one heavy hit when it takes a trained professional like them several to be as totaled as Sam is. They'd never do that to him, but a man can dream-
"Out like a light, already? We're gonna have to build up that tolerance of yours a bit, Sam. Think you can take another kiss?.... Haha, what am I even asking for? I know you can, Sammy..."
Sammy and Darling having a cute date together with consent established prior- Sam's hanging onto their every word, wondering when they'll make their move when he suddenly begins to feel the effects of whatever they slipped into his drink without him noticing. Darling smiles and laughs like nothings out of the ordinary as they drag their flustered, slurring boyfriend back to the car-
I'm feral for this man.
#Sammy my oc#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yandere headcanons#yandere scenarios#yandere blurb#yandere insert#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere#yandere oc#sub yandere#suggestive#yandere smut
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I don't think I have one currently but I had one in middle school. A bully of mine made it on Facebook and blamed me for his parents divorce and ruining his home life.
After our first incident, my mom met up with his parents and had chats about coming together or something. Not directly angry or anything or getting mad at them but hoping to positively affect each other and his mom & my mom became friends.
After the second/third interaction, my mom noticed my bully walk back into the school with just his father and decide we should go in to. We go into the principal office after them and witness the father lying up a storm on behalf of his son, saying that I'M bullying HIS son (For reference, I'm a scrawny kid at this moment who hasn't hit his growth spurt at this time, literally smallest kid in the school while my bully is the tallest, bulky and a boxer) and then claims my mom went to their car and was physically threatening them.
We stayed silent and just let him continue until the lady in the office interrupted to ask him if the group behind him was who he was talking about, bringing us to his attention. Our parents started getting into a yelling argument, so did me and his son and in the heat of the moment his son screamed at me "You act like I'm the only one that bullies you", my mom screamed "hold it! I'm not the only one who caught what he just said right? " and the school staff members confirmed they heard what he said too. All of a sudden, the father starts backpedaling and talking about his son getting violent and arguing with him at home too. Now the father is agreeing that his son hasn't been acting right now that he can't deny it.
Afterwards, my mom called his mom to tell him what happened and she was furious and embarrassed about what happened and even got a call from the school about it too.
I had no more interactions with this specific bully afterwards irl and he eventually stopped going to our school but the rest of this I learned from the Facebook group he created, dedicated to hating me after searching my own name online; after this event his parents started fighting a lot and eventually divorced one another. His mother was disappointed in both him and his dad so he had a long punishment from her too with a lot of his devices taken away, her got kicked out of karate (forgot to mention that we both took karate at the same place, I had stopped going a bit prior to this but remembered this, he was a purple belt and I was blue but we sparred once and he was very violent, my mom contacted the dojo about him using it to bully kids so they kicked him out), post divorce his parents were now both single income and moved to different areas so he could no longer attend the same school he once attended and both parents no longer had the extra income they had before to spend on gifts for him or just high quality items in general. Him having to go to a different school also meant he was separated from a lot of the friends he had made.
He considered all of this to have been my fault, that I ruined his life and then made this group not just to vent but to also recruit people still at the school to get revenge in his absence. I actually did get bullied a lot afterwards but I don't think it had anything to do with him, I think it was more related to exploitation of the schools new weird "no tolerance policy" where everyone gets punished in an altercation (yes that includes the victim in the altercation) and the school also expelled students who got suspended 3 times so it created an environment where bullies can all bully a specific kid and not get in trouble because the kid getting bullied would stop seeking help to avoid getting expelled themselves when they got punished along with whoever was bullying them.
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lace-y đ (sam winchester x reader)
âł you were alone in the bunker with sam and having a movie night with him... while wearing a really pretty white, lace-y lingerie set and one of his oversized tees. what could go wrong!
âł cw: nsfw (MINORS DNI!!), smut, fem/afab!reader, fingering, reader is e@ten out, little bit of praise (and this is my first time writing nsfw so maybe that should be its own warning!)
You pushed the door of the bunker open, letting the cold night air whip through your hair before stepping into the warmth and sighing with relief. Sam followed close behind you, closing and locking the door as you made your way down the stairs. You and him were coming back from a hunt alone, since Dean and Cas were busy with their own side mission. You didnât mind at all- it gave you more solo time with your favorite person. As you reached the bottom of the stairwell, you tossed your bag and keys to the table, noting how your belongings nearly knocked over one of the beer bottles Dean left out. You made a mental note to clean up⌠tomorrow. You were too spent to do it tonight.Â
The two of you made your way to Samâs room. You had your own room, of course- the bunker has, like, 84 of them after all- but you had agreed to watch some Netflix together after getting back as a little reward for your efforts. As you got into his room, you smiled. His room always felt so cozy. After he moved in, he slowly made himself at home⌠a couple books piled on his desk, a few posters from his favorite movies, and a whole lot of flannels on a rack that you liked to occasionally steal from. In all fairness, thereâs no way he needs all of them. But there he was- shedding his Carhart jacket off just to reveal yet another flannel, this one a nice burgundy color. He threw the jacket onto a nearby armchair and watched as you did the same with yours, now in a long sleeve shirt and jeans. It wasnât exactly the cutest outfit, but you couldnât wear your cute outfits out on hunts where you needed to actually be able to bend over or get dirty. You did note some stains on your outfit, and you wanted nothing more then to change into something cleaner and comfier, but your PJs were all the way in your roomâŚ
âHey Sam, do you have a shirt I could borrow?â You asked as he settled into bed, leaning against the bed frame.
âUhhh yeah, theyâre in the second drawer down, take whatever you want.â He smiled before pulling out his phone. You thanked him and went into his wooden dresser to find a shirt. He had a lot of plain white tees for layering, but when you dug a bit deeper you found some of his older stuff. You grinned when you landed on a gray Stanford shirt, and you pulled it out. Sam was tall enough where any of his shirts fit you like a dress. Without much thinking, you started tugging your own shirt off over your head right in front of him. Sam noticed it and tried not to stare- bless his heart, he really did try- but he couldnât help but notice the lace white bra you had on. He felt his face heat up and he felt bad for staring, his eyes darting back to his phone as you pulled his oversized shirt over yourself and discarded your pants. After you were all adjusted, you climbed into the bed with him and grabbed the remote off the bedside table.Â
âWhat do you wanna watch?â You asked, already beginning to scroll through movies. You were sitting fairly close, curled up beside him with your thighs just inches away from touching his.Â
âUhhhâŚâ He trailed off, trying to compose himself.Â
âYouâre never helpful with this, you know.â You rolled your eyes but smiled. You landed on some cheesy horror movie with a god-awful cover and clicked on it. You always found those types of horror movies ironic, given your job as a hunter. Some horribly CGIâd ghost haunting a B-list actress who runs away in heels and trips over herself like every seven seconds⌠sometimes it felt more like a parody movie.
âInteresting choice.â He quipped as the movie began. You laughed and looked over at him, your head resting against one of the propped up pillows.Â
âHey, if you have a problem with it, then your indecisive ass can change it.â You said. He shook his head silently and leaned back a little bit more.
âNo, itâs perfect.â He said. You smiled and returned your gaze to the TV as the camera slowly zoomed out on a dilapidated house in the middle of a forest. You both watched in silence, occasionally scoffing at the horrible effects and dialogue. As the movie went on, you both slowly got more comfortable. At some point, you adjusted and ended up with your right thigh touching his leg. He pretended to not notice, but when you lifted your arms to stretch about 20 minutes into the film, your (or rather, his) shirt rode up a bit and the slightest bit of lace peeked through on your inner thigh. Where there were endless comments and critiques from the two of you before, you noticed he started to go silent, and his eyes were glued to the TV like he would be stricken down on the spot if he dared to look away.Â
Your little comments went unnoticed, and you couldnât help but wonder if something was wrong. After another 10 minutes of painful silence, you finally tugged on his arm a bit to get his attention.Â
His eyes flicked in your direction before returning back to the TV. âYeah?â
âIs something up?â You asked, trying to get even a little bit of eye contact. He made a slight frown and shook his head, eyes still watching the shitty flick in front of him.Â
âM-m.â He hummed, hands moving to fidget with the hem of his comforter. You furrowed your brows and reached for the remote, pausing the movie.
âI donât believe you.â You responded. He just kept staring straight, trying to think of something to say.Â
âHey, can you look at me?â You asked, just a bit frustrated as he seemed to have an aversion to turning to face you.Â
He took a small breath before turning his head, eyes immediately darting to your bare thighs before dragging up to your face.
Oh. Oh.Â
âOh uhm⌠Sorry.â You said sheepishly, now embarrassed. You tried to move your hand to pull the shirt down, but his hand caught yours. You looked up to him in confusion.
He held it there wordlessly, and you could see something change in his eyes. Where he was avoidant and cold before, there was a sort of glint in his pupils, and his attention couldnât be further away from the TV now. You felt your face flush, and you bit the inside of your cheek, attempting to make the tension dissipate. You saw him glance at your cherry glossed lips, and you almost laughed because he obviously wanted to make a move but was stuck like a deer in headlights.
You moved in slowly until your lips connected, feeling him nearly jolt at the contact. You lingered there for a few seconds before pulling back.Â
âIs this okay?â You asked quietly, making sure he was comfortable. He nodded slowly, and this time he leaned forward, connecting your lips again. His hand that once had an iron grip on yours now moved to your cheek, holding you gently in place. You couldnât help but smile into the kiss as his calloused hand moved across your jaw. Youâre not sure why you decided to go with the white lace lingerie this morning, but youâre so grateful you did- it saved you from a whole lot more of silent pining. The kiss deepened, and as it got more passionate you slowly moved so that you were straddling his lap, never breaking your connection. His hand dropped from your face and as you pulled away you saw him go still, feeling him harden beneath you.Â
It wasnât that he was ravenous... but there was a sudden sense of desperation as he kissed you again on the lips, and you couldnât help slowly grinding across his middle. He let out a soft groan before his lips slowly moved to your jaw, then your neck. That shy boy from just seconds ago was gone. You threw your head back a bit, giving him more access. He moved his lips all around your neck, occasionally sucking on your sensitive skin. You felt every sense heighten- his mouth marking your neck, the friction between your thin panties and thick denim, his rough fingers starting to pull at the material of your shirtâŚ
Speaking of which, he lifted the shirt over your head, quickly breaking away from your neck to pull the fabric over your face. As he threw the shirt behind you, his eyes roamed over your body. He could finally see the full set of thin lace white lingerie adorned with small satin bows, the underwear riding up your sides as your legs straddled his. His racing thoughts stilled, and he just sat there looking at you like if he moved, heâd lose his perfect view. When you shifted forward a bit, his trance was broken, and the sensation caused him to immediately attach his lips back on to yours. Your small whimpers fueled his hunger, and he gently pushed forwards, sending you backwards so that your head was hitting the mattress behind you. He was now hovering over you, still kissing you and softly pulling at your glossy lips with his teeth. His lips moved slowly down your face, onto your neck where he kissed a few of his marks from earlier, across your chest between your cupped breasts, down your tummy and ghosting just above where your underwear covered you. You looked down to see his face just above your core, looking into your eyes with caution, silently asking for permission. Your short nod was all he needed, and he gently looped his fingers around the waistband and pulled the panties off and down your legs. You felt your heart race when he gently pushed your soft thighs apart, baring yourself in a way that might have felt embarrassing if he wasnât practically drooling at the sight.
He ignored his urges and started slowly, kissing up your plush thigh. The sensation of him just inches away from where you needed him most, blended with his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin was driving you crazy. You needed something, now.Â
âSam..â You whimpered, voice shaking with anticipation.Â
âYeah, sweetheart?â He looked up with lust-blown eyes, cheek resting on your left thigh.
âPleaseâŚâ You begged weakly, squirming a bit.
You didnât have to voice what you wanted. He smiled sweetly at you before moving to your core, gently pushing his tongue past your folds. You gasped and your hands clumsily fumbled around the sheets until they landed on the back of his head, fingers hooking into his soft hair. He lapped at your clit, and you wondered how the hell his brother got all the credit for being a âpussy magnetâ when he was eating you out like a damn professional. His breath fanned over your hot, wet core, causing you to grip his chestnut hair tighter. He groaned, causing vibrations that only added to your intense pleasure.
âFuckâŚâ You hissed, hips slightly rolling. One of the hands that was currently holding your thighs apart slowly moved upward towards your waist in an attempt to keep you (relatively) in place. His tongue, slick with your arousal, was driving you crazy, and your soft moans and whimpers made him work even faster until you were nearing the edge.Â
Then you felt one of his hands trail up your thigh, and two long fingers gently prodded at your entrance. You gasped at the feeling as they gathered arousal and slipped effortlessly inside you, his tongue still working at your puffy clit. You were blissed out, softly moaning his name as he worked his impossibly long fingers in and out of you. Your breaths got short and your hips rutted up, and he knew you were close. He pulled his mouth off your core, but kept his fingers at a steady pace, looking up at you for the first time in a while as your hand dropped off the back of his head and onto his shoulder, gripping for dear life.
âThatâs it pretty girl, I got you.â He praised, using his free hand to rub gentle circles into your waist. As his pace quickened, you whined his name and felt the pressure in your lower half snap, moaning as you climaxed. Your eyes shut closed, and your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. He slowly pulled his fingers out as you were still coming down, and the hand that wasnât coated in slick was reaching up to brush your hair out of your face.
âYou okay hon?â He asked, climbing up to kiss you on the forehead. Your face was completely flush, and your hair was a bit of a mess from writhing around on the pillow. You looked up into his eyes and smiled at his gentleness, and you nodded slowly.Â
âFelt really good..â You mumbled, still somewhat incoherent as you recovered. He smiled back and kissed you gently.
âYou look so cute in white, you knowâŚâ
âł a/n: hiii! this is my first time writing nsfw so please be gentle w me :,) i have no idea what i'm doing even though my tumblr history would say otherwise... anyways i have a bit of free time between now and finals- send requests! thank u for reading lovelies <3
#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester#sam winchester smut#supernatural one shot#supernatural x reader#spn sam winchester#sam winchester suggestive#sam winchester one shot#supernatural
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Liminal Jason part 3
For those of you that saw the blip earlier, when I tried to post this but it broke cause it was too long, here is the real thing. Masterpost for earlier parts.
Sorry again. And slight tw for panic attack
Jason woke up slowly, taking in his surroundings as he adjusted to being awake. It was quiet, and a little humid. He was on a bed, could feel the sheets beneath him, and he wasnât restrained at all. There was a moment of confusion, because when you wake up after being attacked like that you usually end up dead or a hostage. There was a creeping realization dawning in the back of his mind. He didnât want to acknowledge it. He opened his eyes, not wanting his suspicions to be true. But he was in a holding cell in the cave, and he realized what must have happened. Then he was pissed.Â
He let out a growl, pushing to sit up on the bed. He thought they were doing better. He thought his family trusted him again. His growl was angry, foreboding, telling of the danger and anger in his thoughts. But his head was pounding from the sedative. They knew he hated needles. Hated drugs. Why would they do this to him, trick him like this when they knew how he felt about it. The haze in his head, making his thoughts heavy, and doing nothing but reminding him of all the harm drugs have done to the people around him. He stopped growling, hoping the quiet would help. Much less angry, the clouds in his head starting to make him sad and breathless. He hopes the effects wear off soon. He canât focus. There is something important that he is missing. He is forgetting something, the spiral of his thoughts and emotions starting to lean towards hysteria. Heâs alone. Trapped and alone, mind heavy with fog. He canât think, why is he stuck here? His breath starts coming faster, increasing while his heart starts to race. He tries to keep quiet, and calm down. A whimper escapes him as he finds a corner and slides down the wall. Then he heard a keen. Close, probably coming from one of the other cells. The sound cuts through the haze. Important, a strike of clarity hitting him with a pulse as he remembers the kid. There was a kid with him.Â
Danny. Jason hears him call out again, a sharp keen of panic-confusion, and Jason needs to help him. Jason stumbles up, leaning on the wall for support. He heads towards the door, but he was familiar with how the cells worked. He reached it and of course it was locked. He attempted to manually override, but the pad inside the cell was locked down. The cell can only be opened once someone on the inside clears whoever is inside it. Created for instances where one of them has been incapacitated by a new strain of fear gas, or a new Ivy concoction. To hold someone until an antidote can be created. There was no getting out of here before the other came by.Â
Hopefully, theyâre on their way now, seeing him awake on the cameras. Jason has some choice words to be had about his situation, angry seething inside him as the panic from earlier recedes.Â
Danny lets out another keen, breathy and biting and Jason hears him start to panic. Jason still has to do what he can. He canât reach him, but he can try and calm him down. Theyâre in this together, and Jason is going to do whatever he can for the kid. He let out a rumble, steady and calm in response to Dannyâs cries. His rumble is filled with annoyance, but still said okay-here-safe.Â
Danny is silent for a moment before he hums back a confused-trust. Itâs closer, louder, like Danny has moved to be right on the other side of the wall from Jason. This kid, who just had his world destroyed, came here alone and afraid, and he trusts Jason. Screw yelling at the Bats. Danny needs him, and priority one is getting Danny to a place he can feel safe.Â
A soft churring sound leaves Jason, sweet and caring, and Jason hopes the kid knows that he is going to do everything he can for him. Then Jason hears Danny let out a short purr, a quiet susurration, that ends as quickly as it starts. Jason is stunned by how much faith Danny is putting in him. How much Jason cares for this boy he just met.Â
The bats can pry this boy out from his cold, dead hands.
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