#I didn’t mean for this to happen I swear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreamwritesimagines · 12 hours

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [21] - Heirs

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: Calmness is a facade.

Word Count: 2500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

“I can’t believe I have nothing to wear.”

“You do realize that you’re standing in a dressing room with - I don’t know, a thousand dresses surrounding you?”

You threw your head back before turning to look at Bucky who was still in bed, with his back against the fluffy pillows while he read something on his phone.

“Well fine, I have nothing to wear for tonight!” you said. “Not that I give a shit about this dinner, but a bunch of people will be there, so I can’t just show up in anything.”

“Why didn’t you buy something beforehand?”

“Becca offered to take me shopping but I said no.”

He looked up from his phone, a worried expression crossing his handsome features.

“Charm,” he said. “Come here.”

You tilted your head. “Why?”

“I’ll feel your forehead, are you sick?”

You rolled your eyes at him and turned back to shuffle through the hangers again while he chuckled.

“I just have other stuff in mind,” you muttered. “Like how my father has been involving Ian more in the business ever since I had that meeting with Steve.”

“It doesn’t matter how much he tries to involve him, no one takes Ian seriously.”

“No one takes me seriously either.”

“People take you seriously,” he told you and you bit inside your cheek, then stepped out of the dressing room to lean back on the frame.

“Did Clifford say anything?” you asked. “Was it HYDRA or just him?”

“Looks like just him,” Bucky said. “I’m glad you brought it up by the way, because I have a question.”

You hummed as he sat up straighter in bed and you tried not to gawk at his muscular chest. The prick was used to sleeping half naked, -a human furnace, as much as you could tell- so every single morning and night you had to remind yourself that it was just a business deal, and you weren’t supposed to ogle business deals and their sculpted bodies.

As hot as they were.

“Why did you let me know?”

“He would’ve shot you otherwise.”

“I thought you’d want that.”

You made a face. “Of course I would not, you idiot.”

Bucky raised his brows before lifting your pillow to show you the small knife you had under it, and before you could protest, he lifted his own pillow so that you could see his own knife under it. You shrugged your shoulders.

“That doesn’t mean anything!” you exclaimed. “Other than the fact that we’re a cautious couple. Mine is there just in case.”

“In case you want to stab me in my sleep?”

“In case anyone wants to stab us in our sleep,” you said, your face burning. “Why is yours there?”

“A habit at this point.” he admitted. “Same with the guns under the bed.”

“Ah, I almost forgot about them,” you mused and he tilted his head.

“So you don’t want me killed?”

“No, I’d have to wear black.”

He blinked a couple of times. “Sorry?”

“I can’t pull off black dresses, ask Becca.”

He heaved a sigh. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Charm.”

You let out a small laugh.

“I happen to think we make a good team,” you said, leaning on your hip and a smile curled his lips, making you narrow your eyes at him.

“If you make an innuendo Bucky, I swear—”

“I won’t,” he said, holding up his hands. “I promise. So you didn’t let them shoot me because we make a good team?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “That’s one of the contributing factors.”

“What are the other factors?” he asked, hope shining in his blue eyes and you arched a brow.

“My carnal desires for you,” you deadpanned with the most monotone voice you could muster. “Take me Bucky. Rip off my clothes and claim me right here right now like you’re a knight and I’m a princess and we've been yearning for each other despite our kingdoms being enemies.”

“Incredibly seductive,” he pointed out. “Does your dirty talk always include historical tropes?”

“Yeah, always,” you said and turned around to shuffle through the hangers again, pulling out a dress only to toss it aside. You could hear his chuckle and you bit back a smile, frowning at yourself.

“No seriously,” he said and you grinned.

“My dirty talk sometimes also includes—”

“No not that,” he cut you off. “What’s the other contributing factor?”

You clicked your tongue, making yourself busy with yet another dress. The truthful response would be that you had grown quite fond of his presence against your better judgement, but there was no way you could tell him that.

This was a business deal, nothing more.

“Why do you want to know?” you asked back before stepping out of the dressing room to hold the dress over your body. “Is this pretty?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t even look at it!”

“You’ll look gorgeous no matter what you wear,” he stated as if it was the absolute truth and you pulled back slightly, narrowing your eyes to see whether he was joking but he looked very genuine. “You do realize that if they killed me, you’d have the right to—”

“To take over your family business and become the boss yes,” you said. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t want to be just another boss in this town, I want the business with my last name on it.”

“But does it matter?”

“It does,” you said. “Ian is the one who wants power and power only. I need the legacy as well, and I need—” you paused for a moment, shaking your head. “I need it to be mine.”

He offered you a soft smile.

“What’s mine is yours, Charm.”

A warmth spread through your chest, sending a pleasant tingling underneath your skin and you stared at him for a couple of seconds in complete silence before biting back a smile and turning around to walk back into the dressing room.

“Fine,” you said. “This dress it is.”

Neither you nor Bucky were strangers to being dragged to a dinner with other families once in every three months but this was the first time you and he were attending it with the rest of the families. This was also the first time you were sitting at the Barnes table rather than your father’s, and you tried not to go over to your father’s table to hear what he and Ian were talking about.

You and Becca never sat at your own tables anyway, but it was still quite symbolic.

George and Winnifred seemed to have moved past the argument from earlier, and Bucky played along even if you weren’t ready to do the same yet so you, Becca and Sarah went by the bar after the food was served and you’d had your dinner.

“Y/N?”

You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at Sarah. “Hm?”

“Stop worrying about that,” she told you with a nod to your father’s table and you took a sip of your wine before looking around the room. Bucky was by the corner, talking to Sam and Steve while Natasha and Tony seemed to be in a deep discussion by Clint’s table.

“I’m not,” you lied through your teeth as you stole a look Ian who motioned at Ryan to come closer, then muttered something to him to make him nod. “I’m just…he’s still angry at me for trying to get involved.”

“Well, good thing there’s nothing he can do about it,” Becca said and you huffed out, motioning at the bartender for another cocktail.

“He barely said hi to me.”

“Well, your father is dramatic and so is mine,” Becca stated. “We’re used to that.”

“What did Bucky do with the guy who tried to shoot him?” Sarah asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Killed him,” you said. “After he made sure to get as much information as possible.”

“Not HYDRA?” Becca asked with her brows furrowed and you shook your head.

“No,” you said. “Doesn’t seem like it at least.”

“I don’t buy it,” Sarah said. “It has to be related.”

“Well if he was an agent of HYDRA, he took it to his grave,” you muttered when the bartender put your drink in front of you. “But I agree. Especially lately, they’re attacking everywhere and everyone.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh, desserts!” Becca said as she caught the sight of waiters walking around the tables. “Let’s have dessert! Sarah?”

“I have to talk to Sam but I’ll drop by your table,” she said and you nodded, then walked with Becca to the Barnes table, still holding your drink. Bucky turned his head when he saw you out of the corner of his eye, then made his way to your table and sat down right beside you.

“Everything alright?” George asked him and he nodded.

“Yeah.”

“What were you guys talking about?” you asked him quietly and Bucky heaved a sigh.

“Well, I need to find another person for the shipment issue after…you know?”

“Killing the guy?” Becca said helpfully and Bucky nodded.

“Sam does have a candidate in mind.”

“Who?”

“A new player,” Bucky said. “She’s supposed to be incredibly good at what she does, Sam is very impressed by her.”

“And her background?”

“Has been checked three times,” Bucky said and you all turned your heads when the chatter among the restaurant ceased and you raised your brows when you saw your father standing up.

“What’s going on?” you asked Bucky who shook his head.

“I have no idea,” he muttered and your father cleared his throat, then smiled at the completely quiet restaurant.

“Hello everyone,” he said. “I know that we’re all enjoying our desserts and drinks, but now that everyone is here, I’d like to make a short speech. Not to worry, I’m not going to take too much of your time, the dessert looks too good for that.”

Polite chuckles rose from different tables and your father heaved a sigh while Bucky reached out to squeeze your hand with his vibranium one, as if sensing your sudden discomfort.

“I find myself treasuring these quarterly dinners as I grow older,” he said. “Getting old in our line of work is a privilege, which…George agrees with me I’m sure.”

George chuckled. “Still younger than you Arthur!”

Your father waved a hand in the air while people laughed.

“I do hope that everyone in this restaurant gets to have this privilege,” he said. “And I must admit, I’m not ready to retire like George even though he is younger than me,” he said with a grin, coaxing chuckles out of people again. “There’s no harm in thinking about the future.”

You blinked a couple of times while Bucky sat up straighter, his body high on alert. Your father’s gaze fell on you and he swallowed thickly, then turned to the rest of the people in the room.

“That’s why I’m very happy to put some rumors to rest and announce that I chose Ian as my heir.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you let out a breath, gawking at him. Becca gasped beside you while most of the restaurant started clapping and Bucky squeezed your hand again before leaning in.

“Calm down,” he murmured to you. “It’s fine Charm, we already have a plan. This changes nothing.”

You were trying so hard to keep your expression calm that you had to bite at your tongue to focus. The rage shot through you like lightning, a hot tingling spreading from the top of your head down to your fingertips and you clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to take a breath through your nose. You could see that Steve, Sam, Natasha and Clint were among those who weren’t clapping for Ian, and Ryan shot you an apologetic smile while Ian stood up, your father patting him on the back.

Calm.

You had to stay calm.

“Thank you, uncle,” he said with a proud smile on his face before turning to the crowd. “Well I won’t keep you guys long either, don’t worry.”

You dug your fingernails into your palm, trying to swallow the lump in your throat while keeping your gaze on him.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Ian said. “To my uncle, who has been a father to me for the majority of my life, who has guided me and taught me everything. I will not fail you.”

Breathe.

In and out.

“And of course, to Y/N,” Ian turned to you. “My dearest cousin who chose love as her path rather than business. I hope that both of us will be very happy with our choices and responsibilities.”

Motherfucker.

It was a well-crafted lie, you had to admit, so much that you couldn’t even make sure that Ian had come up with it. Not only was he taunting you, but he was also doing it in a way that every single boss, every single player in this restaurant would think you were just a love-struck girl who wasn’t interested in the business.

Just another mob wife.

“And I’d like to hear what she has to say,” Ian said, smiling at you. “Y/N?”

Bucky looked like he was two seconds away from pulling out his gun but you took a shaky breath, then stood up and forced yourself to smile at the room while Ian sat down.

“Well I guess you have no excuse left Ian, we need to teach you how to fight,” you told him, drawing out chuckles from around the room and Ian’s smile faltered for a moment before he raised his glass at you.

“Um…” you gulped down and stole a look at your father. “I think I was ten when I realized that I actually wasn’t the firstborn, the business was. Me and Becca used to joke about it.”

Bucky drummed his fingertips on the table.

“And my mom used to say that when you’re a good parent, you want your children to do better than you,” you said, making your father swallow thickly. “That’s the ultimate goal, she would say. Happier, more successful, you name it. She would say that’s the thing that would make a parent most proud.”

Ian narrowed his eyes, looking between your father and you, and you grabbed your glass to raise it.

“So, father,” you said, looking him dead in the eye. “I’m very sure that the person who takes over will be so successful that the only thing everyone will talk about is how much better it got after you.”

Sarah leaned her fist on her lips to hide her laugh while your father stared at you, then nodded slowly, gritting his teeth before smiling at you.

“Enjoy the dessert!” you told the room and people clapped as you sat down. Bucky was still glaring daggers at your father and you took a huge sip of your drink while Becca leaned in closer to you.

“Let the war begin, I guess?” she murmured and you let out a breath, then clicked your tongue.

“Yeah,” you muttered as you shot your father a calm smile. “Let the war begin.”

131 notes · View notes

raya-hunter01 · 1 day

Text

Not My Sister's Keeper Pt 1 & 2

Roman X OC(Kara)

Jey Uso X OC (Tia)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; sex, fluff, couple arguing, Jealousy, infidelity, pregnancy

Roamn’s wife recently left medical school and returned home to save her marriage and travel with him on the road. Upon her return, she finds out things are not what they seem. Her sister is pregnant by her best friend Jey Uso, who is also Roman’s cousin, and her husband is acting suspicious.

What happens when a conversation overhead on a baby monitor blows her world apart?

This first chapter. I posted the ending of the chapter for the seven-sentence challenge.

Pensacola, Fl

Roman's House

Kara's POV

“What’s wrong baby?” I asked my husband Roman as he seemed to be zoning in and out.

“Nothin, I just heard you talking to Terry this morning and I know you miss your friends out there in Boston. I feel like I forced your hand, and I don’t want you to regret your decision to come home.

“Why would I do that, I missed you too and we both agreed on it.”

“Kara, I’m gone so much, and I don’t want you to look back and regret coming back. I should have made it a priority to come out more to see you,” Roman said as I caressed his face.

“Babe, I could never regret coming back. I did this for us and our family that we’re building. That means more to me than medical school. I can go back when your schedule is lighter,” I reassured him as he sighed.

“I just hate you had to leave, but I promise within the next two years my schedule will be lighter, and we can get a house out there so you can finish school. You have my word, I promise,” Roman said making me smile at the thought of us getting a house in Boston so I could continue school.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” I whispered as our lips met in a passionate kiss.

The past year had been hard on us, previously I had been traveling with Roman on the road. I loved it and I even had a job that allowed me to work from home. Still with the perfect schedule I longed for more, so I accepted a scholarship to continue my education in studying medicine at Harvard Medical school.

At first, Roman was supportive and even stood up to my family about me moving to Boston but then the distance began to cause a heavy strain on our marriage.

We would argue more, he became distant almost resentful that I wasn’t on the road with him anymore or at least in Pensacola waiting for him to come home.

I didn’t see why he just couldn’t be happy and come see me more. That last argument we had when I was in Boston was an eye opener, I was going to lose my husband if we couldn’t find a solution.

-----

Four months Earlier

Boston Massachusetts

Kara’s Condo

“We’re going to have to make a decision, because this isn’t working babe,” Roman said as I felt my heart drop as we calmed down from our weekly facetime sex session.

“So, what are you saying? Like get a divorce? Are you seeing someone ele.”

“Kara, I would never, I’m just sayin’ this is getting to be too much.”

“Why can’t you just come out here more on your off days like we agreed. I mean we started off good then all of sudden visits became few and far in between,” I said as Roman frowned sitting up in bed pulling the comforter over his waist.

“I know what we agreed, but I got more stuff on my plate now baby. I can’t help that and then I have stuff to take care of things here in Pensacola when I’m off,” Roman said as I nodded in understanding wiping my tears as he looked at me sadly.

Ugh, Facetime was not the way I wanted to discuss this. We needed to talk in person.

“I swear I’m not saying this to make you cry, baby. Please don’t cry, I’m sorry, ok,” Roman pleaded as I tried to gather myself, sitting up and grabbing my phone.

“No, you have a right to say how you feel, and I understand it,” I whispered as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Kara, I’m just frustrated and miss you so fuckin’ much. We gotta work something out because I can’t take much more of this, especially coming home to an empty house” he whispered as I wiped my tears.

“I miss you too……. We’ll figure something out….I promise.”

The rest as they say is history, a few days later I left medical school behind and surprised Roman by joining him on the road and never went back to school.

Being back on the road with him and in our routine felt good. I knew I was where I belonged, and I felt safe wrapped up in his arms, but I also knew deep in my gut something was wrong, I just didn’t know what.

I couldn’t worry about that today though, it was an important day for Jey and my sister.

“We need to get dressed, babe,” I said stealing one last kiss as Roman caressed my stomach.

“A’ight but I’m ready for this to be over so we can come home and work on our own family,” he whispered in my neck as I blushed.

I truly did love this man and I couldn’t wait to have babies and more babies with him.

------

Tia’s Baby Shower

Kara’s POV

“How are you feeling, sis?”

“I’m feeling very loved,” Tia said rubbing her stomach as I smiled. “We do love you, especially Jey,” I said as Tia looked around nervously.

“Yea, I love my child’s father too,” she said rubbing her stomach, her use of the words felt almost like she was trying to hint about something.

I already knew Jey was the father so what was that about?

Looking at her it seems she in nervous but somewhat happy so I shrugged off her words.

“I can’t thank you enough for this, Kara. It really means a lot to me,” Tia said as I gave her a hug trying to overcome the tension behind us.

“Hey, stop thanking me, I just wanted to throw you my big sister a baby shower. I mean my niece is on the way,” I said as she laughed but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

The dynamics of my family at times could be explosive at times, my parents though married seemed to be just tolerating each other.

For most of our lives my sister and I never got along, and my poor baby brother was always stuck in the middle of it.

I think the relationship with Jey is a dig at me if I’m being honest. She knew I used to have a crush on him but we both agreed we didn’t want to cross the line and jeopardize our friendship.

Tia acted like she couldn’t stand Jey for all these years and then all of a sudden, she took an interest in him about ten months ago. Then a couple weeks later announces she’s pregnant with his baby.

I think myy sister’s pregnancy was actually the boost I think we all needed to try to be a somewhat functioning family.

I would say today was a success as our family and friends got together to celebrate the pending arrival of my niece.

“Bae, I’m heading to Gram's to get her gifts,” Jey said sticking his head around the corner as Roman walked around him.

“Go ahead, Uce, I’ll help Tia put everything in the nursery,” he said as Tia avoided making eye contact with Jey and was looking at my husband with a smile.

“Oh, that would be nice, my sister is so lucky to have you,” she said as Roman looked nervous, rubbing the back of his neck.

What the hell is going on?

“Uh, well it’s my pleasure to help. I mean we are family after all.”

Trying to shake off the awkwardness, I decided to change the subject. “I guess ya’ll can start and I’ll put my pots back in the car, then help ya’ll,” I said as Roman shook his head.

“Nah, I got it, you did enough today. This will only take a second. You can go ahead, and head home, I’ll will meet you there,” he said giving me a hug as I smiled.

Roman was always so caring and loving. His soft lips against mine made me excited for what was to come later.

“I’ll see you at home,” I whispered against his lip he nodded.

“I Can’t wait to get home and take this dress off-”

Tia cleared her throat as I blushed. “Sorry, I’ll see you in the morning, Tia.”

“I’ll call you later, and thanks for lending Roman to do this heavy lifting,” she joked as I saw Roman was seemingly in another world, avoiding her gaze.

Roman’s POV

“Always Ms. Perfect, I know I’m better than her,” I heard Tia mumble under her breath.

I felt my anger rising as Tia slick threw shots at Kara under her breath. Matter of fact, she had been throwing shots all day.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” I yelled as soon as Kara left, causing Tia to smirk.

“What are you talking about, I don’t have a problem, baby,” she chuckled as I snarled.

“First off, I ain’t your baby and you know what you been doing all day to Kara.

“Oh, God forbid anyone upsets Kara. Oh, you so concerned about her now, but you damn sure wasn'’t when you were fuckin’ me,” she hissed stalking off upstairs as I growled snatching a few gifts off the table and following her.

“Look, I fucked up, and we slept together a few times. Stop trying to make it seem like it was some big love affair. I love Kara and that will never change I said as we walked into the nursery.

“A fuck up is one time, we slept together I know at least six times stop trying to lessen the blow of your actions and own it. I came on to you, and you took everything I had to give,’ Tia said smirking at my uneasiness.

“Look, I love my wife-”

“Yet, you were fucking me…. Her sister, and your cousin’s girlfriend.

“Ok, now that’s bullshit in itself, now you wanna act high and mighty. You only got with Jey to cover yo’ ass; he thinks he got you pregnant off of a one-night stand.”

“I wanted and still want to be with you, but you want her! What was I supposed to do!” Tia yelled, frustrating me even more.

“Not bring other people into this shit and play with their feelings!”

“I ain’t playin’ with his feelings, I do love Jey,” she said as I scoffed at the bullshit she was spewing.

“Don’t do that shit Roman, we both agreed it was best if he and I raised the baby. You want to be with Kara, right?”

“No, you decided that shit, all by yourself and Jey doesn’t deserve this no more than Kara does!” I shouted trying to get my point across.

“So, what are you sayin? You got a conscious now!” Tia hissed as I growled.

“I’m sayin’ that I’m over this shit, and I’m telling Kara!”

“You really ready to risk losing everything now?! We both Know Kara will leave you if she finds out.

“I have to tell her-”

“Look, I’m trying to compromise here. Just give me stipend and be a loving uncle to this baby. I promise you can see her whenever you like or say the word and we can be a family together.”

“I’m not her uncle, I’m her father, and even if I lose everything, we aren’t going to be together, Tia. We can co-parent,” I said laying it all out on the line.

“I’ve accepted that, why do you think I’m with Jey. Now you wanna fuck that up for me,” Tia whispered as I felt even more guilty.

We shouldn’t even be discussing this shit now, but it was like we couldn’t stop. It had been a long time since we had been able to talk alone besides on the phone when Kara or Jey weren’t around.

----

Kara’s POV

“Damn, how the hell did I leave my purse?” I muttered walking back inside my sister’s living room, retrieving it.

“You know Kara means the world to me,” I heard Roman say as I smiled picking up the baby monitor, listening to him talk to my sister as they put away some of her baby shower gifts in the nursery; “And I love Jey, that’s why neither one of them can find out you’re the father of this baby.

The silence after Tia's statement defining.

"F-Father," I gasped in shock trying to catch my breath as I waited to hear Roman deny Tia's claim, but it didn't come...Just silence.

I couldn’t breathe, it was as if those words seemed to be stuck on repeat in my mind and it wouldn't stop. “You’re the father of this baby.”

My eyes widened in horror as I lost my footing, collapsing onto the floor, looking at the baby monitor's red lights flashing.

Roman was the father of my sister’s baby.

“Jey is going to find out sooner or later and so is Kara. They ain’t dumb!” Roman hissed as I felt like I wanted to vomit, my breathing shallow as I tried to process what was happening.

“Aye, Tia, I’m back!” I heard Jey yell as I snapped out of the daze I was stuck in and ran out the back door, trying to avoid him.

Jey’s POV

"Tia, I said i'm back!" I shouted looking around the living room, seeing alot of the gifts still around the living room.

“I see that you are,” Tia said appearing at the top of the stairs, as I frowned at her nervousness.

“Why you look so nervous?" I asked sitting down her gift from my grandmother.

“Roman, Jey’s back!” she yelled, ignoring my question as I heard her voice echo.

“What the hell was that?” I asked as Tia smiled, coming downstairs.

“It’s one of the baby monitors, mama turned it on earlier to show us how it worked. The other one is in the nursery, that’s the echo you heard.” she said as I nodded in understanding.

“Oh, that’s cool we need that for when we need some alone time so we can still hear lil mama in her room,” I said as she laughed.

“You are so silly,” she whispered as I looked around for Kara. “Kara still here? I need to talk to her about something, I saw her car out front,” I said as Tia shook her head.

“No, Roman sent her home, matter fact she should be there by now,” Tia said walking over to look out the front door.

“Bae, I’m telling you, I saw her car just a second ago.”

“Are you sure it was her car, it’s not there now,” Tia said as I frowned. “Many times, I done rode in that car, I know my best friend’s car Tia,” I said annoyed at her assumption that I didn’t know what I saw.

“Maybe she had forgot something,” Tia said as I tried to shake the feeling, she was hiding something as Roman finally joined us downstairs.

“Since you back Jey, I’mma head out. Kara is waiting for me at home,” Roman said as I smiled.

“Uce, ya’ll probably will get home at the same time. I just saw her car parked out front,” I said as Roman’s smile dropped.

“Huh, Kara left bout thirty minutes ago,” Roman said looking at his watch as I shrugged my shoulders.

Nah, try five minutes ago, give or take," I said as Tia looked worried.

“Was her car where she parked earlier?” Roman asked as I shook my head.

“No, she was parked out by the street.”

Roman seemed to go white as a ghost and Tia began pacing.

“Uh, I’ll leave ya’ll alone, I need to get home,” Roman said as I followed him to the door. He seemed to be antsy and dare, I say scared.

“Let me me walk you out, Uce.”

“Nah, I’ll see you later fam, I got it,” Roman said walking to his truck as I closed the door.

Damn what had him spooked?

Kara’s POV

I knew I couldn’t go home, if I did, I would kill him…I really would kill him. I parked down the street from my parents and then made my way to their guest house. I didn’t want anyone to see me, not right now.

I was falling apart and needed time to think, this couldn’t be happening it seemed like the minute I closed the door the dam broke as I screamed breaking down in tears sliding down the wall.

“Why him?” I cried overwhelmed by the betrayal of my husband and my sister. The darkness surrounding me, only visible light was from my phone as Roman and Tia had been blowing my phone up.

Not knowing or caring which one it was I accepted the call just wanting the ringing to stop.

“Sis, is that you? Roman has been trying to call you, he’s worried, you weren’t home when he got-.”

Ending the call without saying a word, I thew the phone hard as I could against the mirror on my parents’ wall. Almost feeling a sense of satisfaction as it shattered into tiny pieces just like my heart had .

“Sis?” I laughed at the gall wiping my tears… “You ain’t no sister of mine,” I whispered, my heart straining against my chest as I tried to control my breathing.

Every look, nervous movements and awkward exchanges between them played over and over in my mind.

“Sweetie, are you ok? I saw you come back her and I heard a crash,” my mom said coming into the guesthouse, turning on the lights as I scurried to the corner pulling my knees to my chest whipping my tears.

“I’m fine mama, can you please leave,” I whispered as she gasped at my current state.

“Bill! Get in here!” my mother yelled as I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about it; I knew if I did the tears would come harder.

“Mama, I just want to be alone, please,” I sniffed as she came over to me. “Who hurt you baby?” she whispered kneeling down, taking me in her arms as I sobbed my heart out.

“What the hell is going on?!” my father bellowed coming in seeing my mother and I on the floor, locked in a comforting embrace and the glass on the floor.

“Don’t freak her out, calm down Bill, we don’t even know what’s wrong.”

“Well, something fuckin’ happened Rebecca, and I want to know what it is. She in here breaking mirrors and hysterical,” he said as mother sighed pulling out her phone.

“Maybe Tia can tell me, let me call her-”

“Don’t! Don’t ever call her asking her nothing about me!” I screamed hysterically as my mother looked at me in shock.

I jerked away, her touch scorching my skin. Hurrying to my feet, trying to make my exit, but my dad stood in the way.

“This is not like you sweetie. What happened?” my mom asked, rubbing my shoulders as my father and her tried to calm me down.

“Kara, what is going on baby, did something happen between you and your sister?”

“Dad, please just drop it, ok,” I pleaded retrieving my phone, and wiping my tears.

“Let’s give her a little space to breathe Bill,” my mom whispered as I felt myself losing it slowly but surely.

Hearing a car pull in the driveway I went back into flight or fight mode. “Dad, please move, I need to go,” I pleaded as he stood steadfast, unmovable.

“Baby I can’t let you drive like this, let’s just sit down and talk” he suggested as I shook my head.

“I don’t feel like talking daddy,” I said as my mom sighed.

“Dad?! Mom?! We’re here to pick up the crib!” I heard Tia shout my blood ran cold.

The crib we slept in as kids….That crib?

“We’re in here baby,” my mom called out as I cringed as Tia and Jey in came in the guesthouse.

“Aye, you ok Kara?” Jey asked taking in my appearance. I didn’t even care how I looked right now; my eyes were focused on Tia who looked scared to death.

“Maybe we should come back Jey,” she whispered trying to get a feel of what was going on.

“No, I’m good, come in,” I said as she sighed in relief, thinking her secret was still safe.

“Mom, dad, can you leave? I need to talk Tia,” I said as my dad looked between us unsure of my request but threw his hands up.

“Fine, let’s go up to the main house Rebecca and let the girls talk.”

“I think we should stay Bill; something is wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong mama,” Tia said as I nodded my head in agreement.

“It’s right as rain,” I added as my dad sighed.

“Least she’s willing to talk to Tia, let’s let them talk,” he said ushering my mom out of the room.

“What did you do Tia?” my mom asked as Tia lowered her head in shame as dad closed the door behind them.

“Do you need me to leave Kara?” Jey asked as I shook my head no.

“No, it involves you just as much as it does me,” I whispered as he caressed my shoulder.

“What happened baby girl?” he asked as I looked at Tia trying to see if she would confess but she just stood there as if nothing was wrong.

Jey had to know, I know it wasn’t my place, but he needed to know.

“Girl, you had Roman worried and so was I when he told me you weren’t home. I’m so glad you were here and safe. We thought something had happened to you,” she said as I chuckled at her weak attempt to change the subject.

“Oh, I’m fine….I just needed some time to process some stuff. The problem with that is I only ended up having more questions and I know you know the answers,” I whispered as Jey looked at me confused.

“Questions about what Kara?” Jey asked, looking between Tia and I, picking up on undeniable tension.

“Jey, can you leave Kara and I alone to ta-”

“Jey, stay because I know you’re going to want to know the answers to these questions too.”

"Jey, please leave us,” Tia whispered.

"When were you going to tell me that not only has you been FUCKING my husband, but you're carrying his baby?" I asked calmly as Tia gripped the counter trying to steady herself.

You could hear a pin drop as Jey looked at Tia for any sign of truth to my words.

“Wh…W..What are you talking about Kara?” Tia stuttered as I scoffed at the deer caught in the headlights look on her face.

“Tia, what is Kara talking about?” Jey asked, my heart truly went out to my best friend. He deserved the world, but he always chose the wrong ones to love.

“I don’t know Jey, she isn’t thinking clearly,” Tia said as I rolled my eyes.

“Tia! Words of advice, when you are confessing your dirt and playing God with someone else’s life, make sure the baby monitors aren’t on, projecting your conversations throughout the fuckin’ house, dumb ass!” I hissed as she covered her mouth in shock.

“Ok, let’s calm down lau pele, talk to me, because you ain’t makin’ no sense right now,” Jey said gently pulling me to him.

“I’m sorry Jey, but that isn’t your baby,” I whispered as Tia began sobbing.

“Jey, I can explain-”

“Logan is my daughter, what you sayin to me’?” he asked, looking between Tia and I, his eyes full of tears.

“Tell him…For once in your miserable life, tell the truth,” I said truly done with the lies.

“Jey, Just listen-”

“Is she mine?” Jey whispered walking closer to Tia as she began to figet wrapping her arms around herself.

“Jey, please, baby-”

“Is she mine, damn it!" Jey screamed as I jumped at the anger and hurt in his voice.

"No!...She’s Roman’s” she whimpered as Jey trembled with anger.

“I am so sorry,” I whispered as he pinched his nose trying to stop his tears from falling but to no avail and began pacing.

“It ain’t yo’ fault Kara…. I shoulda' known betta right? He asked, my heart breaking for him.

“I…..I didn’t mean for it to happen, Kara was gone, Roman and I were spending more time together on the road and it just happened.”

“So, in other words when I was gone, you made a move on him,” I said as she sighed.

“Look you left him, and he needed somebody.”

“How could you do that to Kara?” Jey said as Tia wiped her tears.

“Cause she’s willing…Willing to bed flop with anything that moves and I fuckin’ hate you for it Tia,” I cried wanting to give her this work but I knew I couldn’t.

“I tried to make it right-”

“Oh, that’s right, you slept with me and then told me I got you pregnant,” Jey said as I cringed at how he described it, but it was true.

“Where did you do it?” I asked as Tia subconsciously rubbed her belly.

“Don’t do this Kara?” Tia whispered as I scoffed.

“In my house?.....In my bed?” I asked with a whimper as she shook her head.

“No! As much as things haven’t always been good between us, I would never do that,” she cried as I tried to piece together their intimate moments.

“His bus?” I whispered as she nodded. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, now we were getting somewhere.

“The first night of the UK tour when I couldn’t reach him, he was with you wasn’t he?” I asked as she dropped her head in shame.

“That night you left the show early proclaiming you were sick,” Jey added as she nodded.

“Oh my god I’m going to be sick,” I whispered.

“I swear it’s over, Roman loves you and only you. That’s why we did this!” Tia cried as Jey exploded flipping the couch and storming outta the house.

“Jey! Don’t leave!" Tia cried as I grabbed my keys preparing to leave as well. I had heard and seen enough.

“Actions have consequences Tia. That was one of them, a good man walking out of your life….A new life about to be born," I said pointing at her stomach.

"Kara-"

"Your dead to me,” I whispered, heading for the door as she jumped in front of me.

“Kara, just listen-”

“Don’t call…Don’t text…Don’t come by my home… I never want to see you again,” I said as she gasped, falling against me and grunting in pain.

"Get off of me Tia!" I shouted as she held onto me to steady herself, but I didn't push her away.

“Kara, my water just broke” she cried as I looked down seeing at the small puddle at her feet.

Are you serious right now? This cannot be happening.....

Taglist:

@reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl @theninthwonder @mya2real @justazzi @whatdoeseverybodywant @reignsboy19 wooahmiri alichesmi pytbgeezy @ superpietom

@truefant4sy @yana3sworld amandairene88

111 notes · View notes

mochalate · 3 days

Text

[4] new notification! [end]

msby!atsumuxreader || w/c: 1.3k Is this how it ends?

[<-chapter 3] ||[start from intro][masterlist]

The box sits in front of Atsumu, unopened.

And behind them, on the other side of Atsumu’s small kitchen table, is you.

(Atsumu hasn't quite managed to shake off the spirit of his mother, and so you’ve got a steaming mug of tea in front of you. The mug was a gift from one of his younger cousins, and it says best big brother ever, in a ring of pretty flowers. Not the words you ever want to see next to the girl you’re interested in, and kind-of-sort-of friends with. It felt dangerous.)

He can see the hazy suggestion of cookies through the translucent plastic. They look like chocolate chip, and it feels like a chocolate chip kind of moment. But he’s worried he’s got it all wrong. He’s scared to take the lid off and find out that they’re just raisin bran.

So he waits for you to offer him one.

You take another sip. The words on the mug float in front of his eyes like a threat from the universe. Atsumu desperately tries to recall if your birthday is before or after his.

Then you open your mouth to speak.

Alarm bells go off inside Atsumu’s head.

You’re like a brother to me.

Also, I’m seeing your brother.

“... told me about those pictures going around.”

Atsumu realises you’re saying something else entirely.

“Huh?”

“Oh, you didn’t see?”

Atsumu has seen. “No— I, uh, did ya want me to do somethin’ about it? Post for people to quit sharin’ them?” He asks, with a sinking heart.

It’s the exact opposite of what the publicist told him to do, but if you asked, he’d do it.

If you want privacy with Osamu, he’d do his best to make sure you have it; even if it killed him to know and not know at the same time.

You sigh. “She said to just let it pass. And she’s the professional, I think we should listen.”

There’s silence again.

Atsumu can’t take it anymore. “Are ya datin’ Samu? I mean, genuinely?”

Your eyes widen in shock. “No! Why would you think that?”

“The pictures—”

“Why would you believe the pictures? Osamu is my friend.”

A weight is lifted off his shoulders. “I don’t believe them, but if there was anythin’ to them, I didn’t want to come between—”

You have a strange expression on your face, somewhere in between looking like you’re stopping yourself from crying, but also fighting off a smile.

(It’s impressive, really. Atsumu would give anything to be able to take a picture of it.)

“Why would you have come between, Atsumu?” You sound as if you already know the answer.

Atsumu realises you still need him to say it. “Because— because I like ya.”

As soon as he says it, it feels like the moment after a serve, where the ball is so close to the net there’s no way he can tell if it’s going to go over or not. If it will just fall. The moment stretches into an eternity.

And then the smile wins the battle on your face, and Atsumu swears he can see the flowers on your mug blooming and twirling.

“I like you too.”

You look so hopeful, so relieved, Atsumu can’t help but feel a little guilty. “It’ll happen again.”

“What will?” You brows are knit in confusion.

“The pictures, the harassment. People say some real mean shi— stuff.” He takes a deep breath. “You’d be better of datin’ anyone else.”

Your smile falters. “Are you saying you don’t want to—”

“No! I do. I want to date ya,” Atsumu says, reaching for your hand. “But I don’t want ya to regret it. I don’t want ya to end up hatin’ me.”

“Atsumu—”

“Did ya see what they were sayin’? Under those pictures?”

There’s a flash of pain across your face. Atsumu's heart twists.

“I— I did.”

“It’ll keep happenin’. Maybe not about this, but they’ll always find somethin’ to rag on about. Can ya really live with? Knowin’ that’s happening every day?” Atsumu swallows nervously. “I’m just sayin’... think on it.”

You anxiously squeeze his hand, head bowed.

You don’t say anything.

r/relationship_advice • 1 hour ago

u/fattytuna95

FINAL UPDATE: I want to ask out my twin brother's girlfriend.

I thought I owed everyone a conclusion to this whole thing.

A couple of you DMed me to ask how it went. I left you hanging, so first of all, sorry about that.

It didn’t go well.

Yeah, that’s right. It didn’t.

I know I set it up like some kinda romcom eleventh hour, running through the airport type of scene; but it didn’t work out like one.

I don’t know what else to say.

She’s not dating my brother, and she does like me, but we talked it out like adults (thank you for the advice, u/unicornpoodle lol) but realistically it would be a lot of stress and trouble for something we’re not all that sure about; so we decided to keep our relationship formal.

I feel alright, I suppose. I just feel bad that I might have made my brother and her’s friendship awkward.

I think that’s it.

Thanks again, for sticking with me.

Bye.

↑ 254 ↓ •••

u/msbygirlie_13 • 30 minutes ago

oh nooooo :(

i don't know what to say, i'm so sorry. :(

please check your inbox, i sent you a giftcard code for onigiri miya. small consolation.

↑ 205 ↓ •••

u/fattytuna95 • 20 minutes ago omfg, you didn't have to do that!! thank you though. ↑ 100 ↓ •••

u/guiltyassassin_ • 30 minutes ago

You tried, man. That's all any of us can do. Go drinking with your buddies and forget about it.

Might even meet someone there lol

↑ 150 ↓ •••

u/fattytuna95 • 20 minutes ago I'm doing pretty okay actually. Not really in a drink my sorrows away kind of mood. ↑ 83 ↓ •••

u/unicornpoodle • 10 minutes ago

So uh, I think I might have come off pretty rude and heartless this whole time. But I never wanted you to actually feel bad. I want to say sorry about that. And sorry it didn't work out. You seem like a cool dude even if you're kind of dramatic. Thanks for the shoutout. Better luck next time. And there will be a next time, don't worry.

And you're handling this really well, congratulations.

↑ 55 ↓ •••

u/fattytuna95 • just now lol you're a pretty cool dude too. thanks. ↑ 24 ↓ •••

“So you’re scammin’ people on the internet now?” Osamu scoffs. “Just straight up lyin’ for sympathy donations?”

“I only did it because the Jackals’ publicist told me to!” Atsumu cries. “Someone sent my post to her. She glared at me all scary after I fessed up.”

“Still a scam,” Osamu says, deadpan.

“Do ya want me to pay or not?” Atsumu scoffs. “Ya know I’m not givin’ ya cash. Take the giftcard.”

“What if I throw ya out instead? That’s what I usually do to people who don’t pay.”

Atsumu rests his elbows on the shop counter, and gives Osamu the most charming smile you’ve ever seen.

“Ya wouldn’t do that to me in front of my girlfriend.”

The word makes your face heat up like you’re still in highschool. You make an embarrassed noise and try to hide your face, but Atsumu’s still got one of your hands in his. He turns that charming smile toward you, and you really think that thing should be classified as a weapon.

“Don’t you look shy. Do ya have a crush on me, or something?”

“Atsumu!” you squeal.

Osamu just groans. “I’ll take the damn code if ya stop flirtin’ in front of me. I think I’m gonna be sick.”

Atsumu slings an arm around your shoulder and laughs triumphantly, as Osamu rolls his eyes and heads back into Onigiri Miya’s kitchen.

Once he’s gone, you playfully smack Atsumu’s hand. “I can’t believe you didn’t turn down the giftcard.”

“Who am I to deny someone the opportunity for a good deed?” He winks at you. “Don’t ya know those come back to ya ten fold? Sometimes in the form of winnin’ a season ticket giveaway.”

“So you’re saying those are rigged.”

Atsumu sighs. “Yer as bad as Samu.”

You just giggle, and rise on your toes to peck his cheek.

Did Atsumu get you with that last post? 🤭🤭 Dont miss -> [bonus chapter ft. Osamu] [new notification- end notes]

please leave a like/reblog/reply/send me an ask if you enjoyed! <3 divider @/cafekitsune

#miya atsumu fluff #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #my fic

56 notes · View notes

jrow · 6 hours

Text

May Prompts (19)

Day 18 here. Start from the beginning here.

Weather

They are talking about the bloody weather.

Sure, he is legitimately thrilled to be outside for the first time in days (even if he is stuck in a wheelchair) and it is unseasonably warm. But still, the weather hardly warrants 10 minutes of conversation. He knows that he and Molly are both avoiding having what might be a slightly uncomfortable conversation. It is so very British.

He sighs and looks at Molly, who is still talking about how Toby loves lying in the sun. Enough is enough.

“Molly,” he interrupts, “do you know if I gave Sherlock his birthday gift? Do you know if he opened it?” There is no point in beating around the bush.

Her shoulders tighten a bit but she lets out a sigh. It’s like she’s both relieved and anxious that they are having this conversation. “You definitely gave it to him. I guess you don’t remember but you were … determined when you went over there that night.” She smiles sadly. “It was about time, if you ask me.”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t remember getting to Baker Street but … yeah, determined is the right word. I remember feeling that.” He closes his eyes. “Sherlock hasn’t said anything.”

Molly scooches down the bench so she’s closer to him. “He hasn’t opened it,” she stage whispers. She looks around the hospital garden as if making sure no one’s listening. “I popped by Baker Street yesterday—Mrs. Hudson let me in. I wasn’t snooping, I swear! Sherlock borrowed a few files from me last week and I needed them back. I didn’t have the heart to ask him to get them so I just did it myself.” She leans closer. “And your gift was still unwrapped on the coffee table.”

He rubs his hand over his face. “Okay, that answers one question. But why hasn’t he mentioned it at least? Even in his recounting of what happened that night?”

“John,” she says, reaching out and touching his leg. “He’s terrified. And, quite frankly, he has other things on his mind.”

“He feels guilty. It’s obvious.”

“Yes. Incredibly obvious.” She chuckles. “He feels guilty about your fall. You know how he can be. Somehow his silly little brain has decided it’s his fault. I suppose he thinks he should have caught you.”

She makes a good point, but he can’t help but worry it’s something else. “It could be about the gift, though. What if he deduced what’s in the box and feels guilty that he doesn’t want the same.”

She looks to the sky and sighs. “Boys,” she says quietly as if to herself before turning her gaze back towards him. “That’s stupid, John,” she says bluntly.

John leans back, a bit offended. “Come on, you know Sherlock can deduce anything.”

“Not about you!” she says, raising her hands in the air. “You’re his blindspot.” She puts her hands down and takes a deep breath. “And do you really think he’d spend time deducing a birthday gift while you were lying in a hospital bed? I saw him that morning, John. He was a mess. Kept it together on all things Rosie but all in all a mess. He’s not feeling guilty because he thinks he needs to let you down easy.”

John feels slightly chastised but also better. Molly isn’t lying about this. She believes what she’s saying. That’s the best he can hope for.

“Thanks, Molly,” he says, leaning forward to put a hand on her shoulder. “For everything.”

“I’m happy to help. I keep offering to do more with Rosie, but Sherlock refuses. At some point I do want to actually see her when she’s awake!”

He laughs. That all sounds about right.

She shrugs. “You know, I’m not sure Sherlock will get it anyways. When he opens the gift, I mean. You are trusting that present to explain quite a lot. Most people would just see it for what it is. A bit extravagant maybe, but that’s it.”

“He’ll take one look and put the pieces together.”

“Blind spot, John. And then you’ll be forced to use your words. Heaven forbid.”

“He’ll know, Molly.” He takes a breath. “I was determined. I am trying to get that determination back. And … I’m not good with words.”

“You two are a pair in that regard.” She shakes her head and then stands up. “Come on, let’s get back.”

@keirgreeneyes @raina-at @totallysilvergirl @meetinginsamarra @jolieblack @phoenix27884 @friday411 @calaisreno @quimerasyutopias @lisbeth-kk @safedistancefrombeingsmart @momma2boys @helloliriels @dapetty

Let me know if you want to be added or removed 😊

#johnlock #wip #may prompts 2024

45 notes · View notes

h-didanart · 1 day

Text

Ok so— I’ve had this au idea floating around my brain for a while now, and I wanted to get more art for it done but couldn’t find the time, so, here you guys go—

(Do be warned, this whole concept is like a big criticism of the ‘Bloodmoon can be redeemed by reprogramming’ stance, if you have that stance, cool, you do you, we can have a civilized discussion about it if you want to, just don’t be surprised if you read this and hate it, because if you have that stance and read this, I assure you, you’ll hate this)

Bloodmoon II centered au, yes? After the Takeover they kinda stop being a villain because they refuse to be forced into a role and they’ve always been put as the villain, or something, look they’re stubborn and spiteful that’s the only thing I could come up with. And in this au they didn’t kill KC, so they go live with KC. Cut to 2024 and Eclipse III, Eclipse decides that he too is done with being the villain and also goes live with KC (and Bloodmoon), and these developments are good for the Celestial family, but they are still very suspicious of both eclipse themed bots, constantly wondering if they’re truly not evil anymore, questioning their choices, wondering if they should just take the chance to kill them, even KC questions them a bit. All this talk about what it would take for them to be redeemed and be accepted by everyone seemingly gets to Bloodmoon.

So one weekend, KC and the others drop by because Eclipse and Bloodmoon have an announcement or something. KC and the Celestials talk a bit while the others set whatever they’re doing up. While doing this they’re probably still making snide comments about Bloodmoon and Eclipse being so easily accepted back, which KC doesn’t like and shuts down.

And then Eclipse grabs everyone’s attention, and he explains that Bloodmoon had asked him to reprogram them.

Immediately KC is like “what the fuck do you mean by that?!” And Eclipse is like “I’m not done talking”

So he tells everyone that Bloodmoon took their criticisms rather harshly and decided to fully turn good by getting rid of the whole murder and blood thing. This leaves everyone shocked because why the hell would Bloodmoon ever do that? As they’re shocked, Eclipse walks back to the computer Bloodmoon’s plugged at and keeps explaining that the change will set in about a week in case they don’t like it, but it should all be fine since this is what everyone had asked for.

And then he looks at the screen.

And then he swears out loud.

By then, Solar, Moon, and KC were running towards him. Eclipse is kinda freaking out, the two nerd buddies are trying to look over to see what’s wrong, and KC stands worriedly next to Bloodmoon (who’s turned off) Eclipse lets out a groan of exasperation and turns to the others, and he tells them that something went wrong and there’s a chance Bloodmoon’s memory banks might be corrupted (basically they get amnesia)

This freaks them all out even more, they are questioning Eclipse’s morals over doing this, their own fault for having pushed the twins, even wondering if a truly clean slate would actually be beneficial to the twins because of all that has happened.

And amongst the chaos, Bloodmoon wakes up. So starts a week of the Celestials and KC having to look after an amnesiac Bloodmoon who doesn’t act like Bloodmoon.

But it should all be fine, this is what everyone had asked for.

Isn’t it?

#sun and moon show #tsams #the sun and moon show #sams au #Sams au idea #sams bloodmoon #tsams bloodmoon #sams eclipse #tsams eclipse #sams kc #DadCode behavior #rambles #can you tell who my favorite is yet?#I’ve put a lot of thought into this one for literally no reason at all #do you guys see my vision #or do you absolutely hate it?#it’s fine if you do #I’m open to discussions about Bloodmoon if you wish to talk #wait— wait HOLD ON I FORGOT A DETAIL——

33 notes · View notes

pastshadows · 2 days

Text

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 15: Home

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 7K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.]

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [Implied/attempted sexual assault: Chapter 7]. Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions. Panic attacks. Anxiety.

The day is cloudy, obscuring most of the sky, with brief breaks where the clouds crack to let through cerulean rivers and dapples of sunlight. The flames in the fireplace flicker and dance in the breeze coming in off the Great Harbour.

You flip through another book on vampire covens in Waterdeep. So far, Gale has procured an impressive amount of information, but most of the texts are outdated. You’ve searched crypts and ancient mausoleums and scouted every location mentioned with Shadowheart, but they’ve all been long abandoned dead ends.

“I brought you lunch.” Shadowheart smiles, nudging the door closed with her hip. “Before you turn your nose up, I made it.”

“Thanks. Already sick of Gale’s cooking?”

Shadowheart’s nose wrinkles, and she smirks slyly but refrains from answering. The gleam in her eye tells you all you need to know. She nods toward the book in your lap. “Anything?”

“No,” you say with a shake of your head. "According to these, most vampire covens in Waterdeep don’t last. They’re either eradicated by something or vanish."

“You’re thinking this is the work of the Vampire Lord we’re looking for?”

You nod. “Astarion said vampires are territorial. If other covens have tried to make a home in Waterdeep for decades, even centuries, and none have survived, I think whoever we’re looking for predates all of it.”

“That’s disconcerting.” Shadowheart’s brows furrow, but she sheds her trepidation easily. “We’ll figure it out. We always do. Gale and I sent letters to the others to see if anyone could come and help.”

“If they are able to come, Gale’s going to have a lot of mouths to feed.”

“And Astarion is going to have to answer for his foolish disappearance.” Shadowheart scoffs with a frown. “I still have half a mind to—“

“Shadowheart." You cut Shadowheart off as nicely as you can while still sounding assertive. "I know you mean well, and I love you for being so protective, but what happened between Astarion and me is our business. He had his reasons, and maybe I didn’t understand them at the time, but I do now. Furthermore, I understand him better.”

“You cannot be serious.” Shadowheart retorts sourly. “I swear that man could thrust a dagger through your heart, and you would still find a way to exonerate him with your dying breath.”

She’s not wrong.

“Please give him the benefit of the doubt.” You swallow the irritation and try pacifying it with the knowledge that her prickliness is her way of showing you she cares. “You must keep in mind that he’s never experienced a relationship before, and he’s still learning who he is as a free man. Some of the blame falls on me too. It might have been prudent to allow him to decide if he wanted to live alone for a while before we moved in together. I might have pushed him too fast.”

“He could have at least told you he was leaving.” She snorts. “Coward.”

“That’s enough,” you growl in a warning that you’ve reached your limit of her tartness. You take a deep breath. “None of us can fathom what he’s been through and the scars he carries. He deserves our understanding, not our expectations of what we think he should have done.”

“Fine, ugh, fine,” she replies coolly. Her expression softens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I’m sorry I ruined your vacation. I know you came to see the House of the Moon, not possibly die helping me fight another vampire.”

“Do you want to know a secret?” She giggles gleefully with a broad smile. “Retirement has gotten rather boring. I may not have chosen another Vampire Lord as our next foe, but at least we have experience with this particular enemy.”

“Hells below.” You laugh. “I thought I was the only one who found all this lounging around in safety utterly dull!”

“I hear you and Astarion haven’t been doing much lounging around since he returned.” Shadowheart waggles her brows with a sly, bright grin.

If you were a more bashful person, your cheeks would be heating, but Shadowheart became your best friend during your travels, and you don’t need to be shy with her.

“Oh,” you smirk smugly, “about that. You may want to reconsider moving your room to the upper floors of the tower with Gale, or I suspect you’ll never get any rest.”

“You are downright uncivilized, Kamena!” Shadowheart dissolves into a fit of laughter. “I think I will survive. It’s not like you two were exactly quiet in camp, and I’d rather keep a close eye on Hecat.”

“She’s still here?” Your brows furrow. “I was rather hoping she would take her leave after the whole vampire thing.”

“Me too. Instead, she seems rather keen to help. I haven’t decided yet if she’s an idiot or up to something.”

You rub your tired eyes. Your nightmares have returned with ferocity, and Astarion has had to wake you up several times every night lately. “We will watch her closely.”

“You mean you’re going to watch her closely around Astarion?” Shadowheart giggles, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “I saw that at breakfast the other day. She could not stop gawking at him!”

“I know!” You grunt with an exasperated huff. “I could veritably see her undressing him with her eyes. The woman is lucky I didn’t pluck them out with my fork!”

Shadowheart takes your hand in hers. “Astarion’s heart is yours. It has been since he met you. You have no reason to be worried.”

“I am not worried about him. I trust him.” You groan and try to push away the little green monster that seems to infect your very essence. You’ve always been a jealous person, although you prefer to call it territorial. Though this is a little much, even for you, “I’m worried about her.”

“If she lays a hand on him, he will likely cut it off before she can blink.” Shadowheart cajoles, obviously trying to reassure you.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “He won’t have time to before I make her spontaneously combust.”

Shadowheart leans in close, whispering, “You don’t need to worry, Kamena. You’re much prettier than she is.”

You both laugh until your eyes are watery and your cheeks are sore. Shadowheart sits with you, reading a different text and making notes. The words on the page start to blur before your tired eyes.

“Go rest.” Shadowheart nudges you awake. You didn’t even realize you had slipped into your trance until she roused you. “The books aren’t going anywhere.”

“Yes.” You nod with a yawn. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Descending the spiral staircase to the lower floor of the manor, Astarion’s voice draws you to the grand sitting room, where he’s chatting with Hecat. For some reason, you don't enter the room and decide to eavesdrop on the conversation. Astarion will undeniably know you’re there, but Hecat wouldn’t have heard you.

What does she say to him when I am not around?

She asks him questions regarding his vampirism. It makes you uncomfortable, though you cannot put your finger on why. Astarion seems unruffled by her interrogation. In truth, they are rather innocent . She asks simple things like what blood tastes like, if he can eat food, and what it tastes like to him, among other pointless inquiries. Her line of questioning is much like what you imagine a child’s would be.

“Can I see your fangs?” Hecat asks with a chortle.

You smother the urge to stomp into the room and tell her that he’s not a spectacle for her viewing pleasure. You did ask the same thing once, but that was at least after you agreed to be his meal. Gods. If she asks him to bite her, you will surely lose your shit.

Taking a deep breath, you enter the room as nonchalantly as you can, feigning surprise to even see her.

“Afternoon, dragon girl!” She chimes happily. “Your friend and I are getting to know each other a little better. I’ve never seen a vampire that’s not a bloodthirsty maniac.”

Hecat makes a point to emphasize the word friend with all the subtly of a neon sign flashing in a dark hallway, and it makes you fume like a kettle left unattended over an open flame. You can feel the pressure building up to a deafening whistle in your ears, and you’re ready to blow your lid off in frustration.

“Then you don’t really know my friend very well.” You retort with a curt smile, and you’re proud that you manage to keep the bitterness out of your intonation. “He’s just very selective about his meals.”

Astarion cocks his head at you, smirking with a low chuckle. “She is correct. All vampires are bloodthirsty maniacs. I just happen to be a picky, bloodthirsty maniac."

Hecat regards you thoughtfully, and her eyes land on the telltale puncture wounds on your neck that are still in the process of healing. She laughs, looking at Astarion. “By picky, I assume you mean you prefer blood that’s spiced with a hint of draconic fire?”

Your hand shoots up to your neck, the pads of your fingers running over the scabbed skin.

Astarion seems rather bemused by the entire conversation. “I do indeed enjoy spicy food. The hotter, the better.”

“I’m from the Hells.” Hecat remarks confidently with a wolfish grin. “You can’t get much hotter than me.”

The fire in the hearth discharges with a sonorous crack. Embers and sparks eject from the fireplace, making both Hecat and Astarion jump. You have never been more tempted to show her that, though she may hail from the Hells themselves, nothing is hotter than the Hellfire of an angry dragon. You’re not sure if she’s trying to irk you or is just terribly stupid.

Probably a combination of both.

“Excuse us.” Astarion’s drawls as if nothing is amiss, taking your hand, but you don't take your glowering eyes off the Tiefling until she yields, and her eyes snap away in deference.

Astarion virtually drags you away from the interaction before you can decide if murdering this woman might be worth any further trouble it would bring to your doorstep.

You follow him reluctantly back to your room. Before he can lecture you or comment, you blurt out hastily. “Pack some clothes and your things. We’re going to get away from here for a couple of days.”

“We’re leaving?” Astarion quirks a brow at you. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, given the predicament we find ourselves in?”

“It’s only a couple of days.” You sigh, sitting on the bed, letting your head drop into your hands. “I’m tired, and I need a break. I spoke to Gale about it already. He’s positive they will manage without their fearless leader. If you would rather stay, you don’t have to come.”

“Stay here? With them? Alone? Hardly.” He scoffs, clicking his tongue. “A worse fate than even the kennels. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Gods. I hate surprises.” Astarion groans with a cheeky grin. “It’s rarely anything good. Surprise! You’re a vampire. Suprise! You’ve been tadpoled and might burst like a boil into a grotesque squid at any moment. Surprise! That sweet, demented old crone is indeed a hag.”

“I think you’ll like this one, petal.” You tut, smirking back. “If you don’t, feel free to kill me.”

“Hmm.” Astarion taps his lips with his finger. “That’s very tempting. I’m almost convinced. Alright, deal. Lead on.”

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this,” Astarion groans, bringing the dapple-grey gelding beside your mare.

“Stop being testy.” You giggle at the frown he shoots you. “You seem to know what you’re doing.”

“I am centuries old,” he scoffs, jutting his chin into the air cavalierly. “I did not once say I couldn’t ride. I said I do not like the beasts. Horrid creatures.”

“I do forget how positively ancient you are. Did horses even exist all those long years ago, or Gods forbid, did you have to walk everywhere?”

“Ha-ha!” Astarion’s says sarcastically, curling his lips into a scowl. “You are so very funny, my dear. Where in the Hells are you taking me?”

“Follow and find out!”

Easing your mare into a gallop, the horses easily soar over the terrain on the outskirts of Baldur's Gate. The night is clear, and the stars shine brightly, their raw celestial energy dotting the sky like grains of sugar.

Despite Astarion’s plain distaste for horses, you can’t help but admire the way he looks in the saddle: confident, refined, and mouth-watering. The wind’s fingers flow through Astarion’s typically perfectly coiffed hair, mussing it up handsomely, and the silver moonlight plays between the rolling waves, casting an ethereal luminance across his porcelain skin.

Spotting the pathway, surrounded by a dense forest, you rein the horses into a walk through the narrow pass. The canopy of the towering trees filters out the beams of the moon’s waxen rays, so you cast Light. It makes eerie shadows dance around the thick trunks like restless spirits, their ghostly tendrils writhing around in the dark like tentacles, and you’re surprised to find yourself increasingly unnerved by the sight.

Your heart flutters around your chest like a scared bird in a cage as your eyes dart and track the serendipitous, playing shades. Your mind plays out memories you would rather forget, and you find your palms tingling as you seize the Weave reflexively.

Mind flayers and their slithering tentacles. Tadpoles squirming behind your eye.

The hungry shadows of Shar’s curse twisting their vines into you and sapping your life.

Good Gods. That abomination, Kar'niss.

Intellect devourers. The Netherbrain. The Emperor.

The feel of countless fangs of feral spawn, wild with hunger, piercing your skin in the Underdark.

Aldous. The sound of fabric ripping when he wrenched at your robe.

Prison. The crack and pop of breaking ribs.

“Hey.” You jump when Astarion’s hand touches your forearm. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you quickly brush away the wetness strung upon your lashes.

“Pass me the reins of your horse.” Astarion instructs.

You do so mindlessly, staring into the penumbra obscuring the land between sagging boughs, as you continue to spiral through a tornado of every terrible thing that’s happened to you.

Astarion halts both of your horses, bringing his as close to yours as he can in the limited space. He ties the reins to his saddle and scoots himself back. “Come on, love.” Astarion leans over and folds an arm around your waist. “Slide over here.”

Wrapping your arm around his neck, you carefully ease over to Astarion’s steed with your back pressed tightly to his chest. He keeps an arm fixed around your trembling body.

“I am here, sweetheart.” Astarion murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours. “You can talk or not, but I am here.”

Astarion continues along the trail, humming a soothing tune that you don’t recognize. Every time the horse's hoofs snap a twig or thud off a rock, you cannot help but flinch. It’s not like you to be spooked so easily. You’re not fearless, but Gods, you’re far from this coward currently swallowing the urge to weep in Astarion’s arms at every unexpected sound.

You squeeze your eyes closed so the darkness stops staring back at you. Screaming inside your head, you try to quell the onslaught of thoughts, but it’s hard to forget your past when it’s written into the scars on your psyche. Some wounds never seem to heal and bleed again at the slightest provocation.

You want it to stop.

You want to drink until you can’t remember your name.

You want to beg Astarion to touch you, drain you, or both until you're numb.

You do not care how, as long as it fucking stops.

“Kamena…” Astarion trails off, and your eyes spring open, broken from your descent into madness. His eyes widen with recognition, and he gasps, “Hells. Are we where I think we are?”

“We are home."

Even with the dust covers removed from the furniture that remains and the fire spitting and popping in the brick fireplace, your cottage looks sparse and empty, devoid of all the belongings that made it look like home. The fine threads of dusty cobwebs hang in all of the corners. It makes you smile, warming your heart, when it’s the first thing Astarion attends to, listening attentively, his expression frozen in concentration.

“Well?”

“Oh, darling,” he feigns solemnity, looking gravely serious. “There are spiders everywhere. Millions of them, hiding in every nook and cranny, just waiting for you to fall into your trance so they can crawl all over you.”

Astarion takes quick, silent steps, grabbing you by the waist and crawling his fingers gently up your arm, laughing boyishly at the way you cringe, shudder, and try to twist away.

“Astarion!” You squeak, swatting him in the chest playfully while he giggles at you. “This is no joking matter! You know I will burn this place to the ground around me.”

“Perhaps,” he smirks, jutting his hip out confidently, “but you won’t burn it down around me, especially not with the sun out.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” you smirk, letting liquid-like flames swirl around the two of you, and letting them ebb out. “I just might if you don’t tell me the truth!”

“Go ahead,” he challenges, pretending to yawn and lying down on the bed with his hands behind his head. He smirks boldly. “You’ve dropped a building on me before. How much worse can it be?”

“Are you going to hold that against me for the rest of our lives?” You groan, climbing onto the bed. Astarion pats his lap with an enticing grin, and you straddle him. “You were very enthusiastic in your approval to yank the weapon out of the device, you know.”

“I wanted to see what would happen. What can I say?” Astarion laughs, sitting upright, ghosting his lips over yours. “You should have known better than to listen to me of all people.”

“You’re the thief! I figured you already had it all planned out, Rogue.”

“Interesting that you thought I was a details person when I much preferred to sow blood and chaos wherever we went.” Astarion taps your nose with each word he tuts at you. “Not very astute of you, Sorceress.”

“Gods above,” you snort, galled, and stick your nose in the air. “We just got home, and I already want to break up with you.”

“And here I was thinking we were just very special friends.” Astarion muses flippantly, tilting his head and looking askance. “What do you think Tiefling blood tastes like? Brimstone? Smoke? Char?”

You spring up, staring at him with an icy scowl, your lips pressed together firmly. Astarion’s brows raise and curve, wrinkling his forehead in puzzlement as he scrutinizes you. It makes you want to hide, and you fold your arms around yourself to strangle the diffidence making bile rise into your throat.

“Maybe you should ask her for a nibble if you’re so goddamn curious, friend.”

Astarion’s mouth drops open at the choler braided into your voice. “What in the bloody Hells is going on with you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you swallow thickly.

“The Hells you don’t.” Astarion snaps. “If it’s alright with you, I would like to skip this part of the argument where you try to convince me nothing is wrong. I am not a fool.”

The bilious bubble bursts, and you shout, “Then stop acting like one! You allowed Hecat to pester you all about your vampirism like it was an ordinary thing for someone to do! You hid it from me when we met, but you seemed more than happy to humour her, even while she gawked at you like she was lost at sea and you were driftwood to cling to!

“Good fucking Gods. Grow up!” Astarion booms with bared fangs, making his expression severe, bordering on frightening . It’s not often you’ve seen him so angry, especially with you. “You have always had a jealous streak. I find it quite endearing most of the time, but this magnitude is new even for you, and it’s decidedly not cute.”

He’s right, and you know it, but that fact does nothing to assuage the indignation. Your eyes jump around the cottage. There are so many happy memories that now have a vinegary tartness after being pickled by heartbreak.

The bed you laid on for days with that damn letter weaved between your fingers.

The window you sat in front of at night, drunk and dazed, hoping beyond hope that he would appear between the trees.

His favourite lounge, where you spent days curled up crying until your eyes were sore.

And so many more.

You thought coming back here was a good idea. It was the last place you remembered feeling truly happy and whole. Now all you see are the reminders of a life that could have been if only you had been wise enough to catch the signs of him withdrawing.

I wish we could go back to a time before it was too late.

Now it's you who needs to withdraw, because this is all you're good at now. Isn’t it? Running away from your problems and fears.

You are afraid to fall because if your fire is extinguished, you’re unsure if it will ever burn again. Your soul is too indurated with heartbreak. You will have nothing left but to stand in the ashes of who you used to be.

“Get away from the door,” you say despondently.

Astarion steps toward you to stop you, but you open the door and stand in the streaming sunlight so he can’t touch you.

“Where are you going?” Astarion sighs, easing his tense posture and shying away from the sun.

It makes your heart clench in your chest to see him so afraid of something he used to love, and now you’re using it as a weapon to shield yourself from him.

What is wrong with me?

“To go grow up.” You spit harshly and disappear out the door, slamming it behind you.

Astarion listens as the sound of pounding hoofs races off until he can’t hear it any longer. He combs his fingers through his hair, scraping his fingernails over his scalp, while looking around the cottage that he used to call home.

Ever since he left, he’s dreamed of returning, where his memories are full of her smiling face, joyful, feathery laughter, peace, and safety, but now that he’s here, it feels like a bleak reminder of the life they could have had.

It’s empty, quiet, and dark without her. Kamena has always been the fire that banishes the shadows. Her smile warmed these cold walls, and her laugh threaded the air with sweet life.

Fuck.

He sits on the floor with his back pressed up against the bed and takes a deep breath. His eyes wander and focus on a crack in the ceiling, and he lets his mind drift back to the conversation. Before he left, usually, their quarrels ended with a swift recovery and reconciliation. They hardly ever turned into escalated disagreements.

And she never ran.

Astarion's head drops into his hands, and he winces at the recollection of his own gruff voice telling her to grow up. He admonished her when he should have been trying to figure out why her reaction to the Tiefling’s brainless queries was so uncharacteristically intense.

His mind races as he delves into the depths of his memories, seeking clues to explain Kamena’s fragile security.

Well, at least she was generous with her blood tonight, Astarion thinks, as his fingers part and find her folds slick with arousal. If nothing else, he got a meal out of it.

Astarion’s eyes stay open, even while their tongues dance, staring blankly at the pattern of the tree bark in the distance. He does not need to focus much as his finessed fingers fall into a perfectly choreographed rhythm engineered by how her thighs shake, her breath hitches in her throat, and the sighs that slip from her lips.

He will have her coming undone for him in no time, and then he will take her again, perhaps from behind.

It’s always easier when they don’t look at him.

Gods. The only being that has treated him like a person in the last two centuries, and he’s still playing the rake, but this is all he knows - all he’s good for. He needs her help and protection, so he might as well make himself useful.

His mind is clapped back into reality rapidly when he realizes her moaning has stopped, her body is still, and their lips are no longer locked in a kiss.

Shit.

He glances down, and she’s staring at him thoughtfully. “Is everything okay, Astarion?”

He reels to think of some beguiling response. He weaves together words like spider silk in the deep, purring timbre he knows will current her away in the river of his verse. “Apologies. I was just getting lost in the bewitching melody of your moans.”

It’s half-assed, admittedly, but he thinks that should do it.

It does not, in fact, do it, and he does not like that she doesn’t look entirely convinced. She stares at him as if she’s undressing his mind, unbuttoning his thoughts with those eyes that could swallow whole universes.

It’s... unnerving.

He doubles down on his ministrations to distract her. Moving forward to the next act in this play, and eases two fingers into her, pressing upward to find that pad of sensitive flesh that should send her spiralling into pleasure.

This one is more observant than his usual fanfare and far more clever. He will have to be mindful.

Astarion barely registers when she tumbles into her orgasm, spasming around his fingers and crying out his name. He should say something. They usually like it when he says something.

He leans down, kissing up the column of her neck, skin flushed under his lips. He whispers, letting his lips brush up against the shell of her ear. “Gods. You’re beautiful, darling.”

Unoriginal perhaps, rehearsed to oblivion, but par for the course of this performance.

At least she is truly a vision with her doe-eyes, heavily lidded, sparkling as if flecked with moonstones. Her long hair waving upon the ground, and the pale light glints off her prismatic scales cherubically.

He lets himself admire the arc of her waist and the curve of her hips. It helps when they are attractive. He’s seen many seductive bodies, but hers is different somehow. It’s enchanting... inviting even.

He settles between her thighs, hands splayed on the loamy ground, to brace himself, and he eases his cock into her aching core. Gods. She’s tight, and it makes him sigh out a hissing breath.

He pumps into her at an easy pace until her body adjusts, and then autopilot takes over as he descends into the recesses of his mind, floating out of his body and away from what he’s partaking in.

It’s not that it doesn’t feel good. In fact, he’s rather confounded to find that, despite his mind trying to separate itself from his body, he keeps being dragged back, overwhelmed by a sudden surge of pleasure.

She feels... good. Hells below, really, truly, good.

This is... different. Her body flush against his, her tightness so wet, warm, and disconcertingly sublime.

“Astarion,” she breathes as her hand gently comes to his cheek, bringing him back into his body, and his eyes snap open to meet hers. “Show me what you want and what you like, not what you think I want.”

His hips stutter for a moment, processing the request. When’s the last time someone cared about what he wanted or liked? Hells. What does he like? He’s usually so focused on providing other people with their fantasies that he hasn’t bothered to consider what he likes in centuries.

"I... I don’t know,” he murmurs shakily. A revelation cracks into him — something he’s never done, never been allowed to do, never had the agency to do. Another first . “I want to taste your blood as you come for me.”

She smiles, nodding her assent, and Astarion’s hips snap erratically, changing the depth and pace of his thrusts until he finds one that has him squeezing his eyes shut, enraptured in his own bliss.

She whimpers his name as she nears her climax, lolling her head to the side to give him access. His name in her breathy whimpers sends shivers down his spine.

He bites, pulling her blood into his mouth and letting it sit on his tongue. He can taste the spice and fire of her desire, a beautiful harmony that makes him groan. His hand grabs her hip so he can plunge into her deeper and fuck her harder into their combined euphoria.

She crests, fingers curling into his hair as she clenches around him. Her blood floods with a new flavour in her nirvana. It tastes like dawn, hope, and... home?

His orgasm takes him by surprise when it charges through him. His cock twitches as he spills himself into her with a grunt against her throat.

When he lays down beside her, she makes no move to touch him or get closer, and he’s beside himself to find he’s disappointed with the lack of intimacy. When he looks over, she’s once again observing him, gentle yet contemplative.

“What is it, my sweet? Already looking for round two?”

“You weren’t all there tonight.” She whispers, looking up at the stars.

Fuck.

He’s a master performer, able to improvise and fabricate on a dime, but he cannot think of a single cunning explanation to reply with.

Why, oh why, couldn’t it have been the gullible Tiefling or braggart Wizard leading this group of godsdamned misfits?

He catches the hoofbeats long before they approach the cottage. When Kamena opens the door, sunlight no longer spills through the gap. She doesn’t speak as she curls herself around him, her head on his chest, taking a deep breath. He wraps her in a tight embrace, kissing her hair and pressing his cheek against her forehead.

Astarion closes his eyes and revels in her warmth before he speaks. “I spoke out of turn today.”

“Ugh. Stop being so nice to me.”

Kamena shucks off her robe, disappearing into the bedroom, and returns attired in one of his shirts. The red tunic is too large for her, with the hem rippling about her thighs, putting her long, shapely legs on display for him.

She smirks at him as he feigns irritation, crossing his arms and jutting his chin up. “Did you not bring your own bloody clothing?”

She descends into a chair by the fire, curling her legs up under her, and whispers. “It makes me feel close to you. When you left, it was one of the few things I had left.”

Her answer takes him aback. He had expected a clever retort, not such raw vulnerability.

“You still doubt my commitment to you,” he states, rummaging his fingers through his hair. “I can hardly blame you. Our relationship didn’t exactly start or end candidly. If I would have opened up instead of running out on you-”

“Should have, could have, would have,” she shrugs. “You had your reasons, and I'm not much better, it seems. Gods. I’m a mess.”

“Perhaps, but you’re my mess.” He purrs, crouching and hooking her chin with his finger to guide her gaze to his. “I want you, Kamena. I always wanted you, even when I didn’t know what I wanted.”

“Hecat.” The shakiness in her voice makes every one of his bones ache as her eyes begin to well up. “I should not have overreacted. I just… You don’t understand how hard it is to watch everyone covet you like you’re a prize to be won. I hate it. It makes my blood run hot, and sometimes I just don’t recognize it for what it is - insecurity.”

“The Tiefling is just another fool in a long line of idiots who sees how positively beautiful I am, but their interest goes no deeper than flesh. You are the only one who ever saw me and took the time to get to know me, even when I was being an insufferable prick.”

Kamena hiccups out a laugh. “I just really want to burn her eyes out of her skull.”

“HA!” He giggles, kissing her forehead. “That’s my girl. Not to worry. Dear Shadowheart is right. If she touches me, I will cut her hand off swiftly.”

“You heard that, did you?”

“Of course.” He smirks, leading her to the bed and giving her a playful shove. “I hear everything that goes on in that tower.”

“Am I more attractive than the Tiefling?” She pouts adorably with a sassy undertone.

“Digging for shallow praise, are we?” Astarion chuckles. “Alright. I’ll bite. Let me see. If an angel fell for every time I thought of you, the heavens would be empty.”

She giggles – sparkly and beautiful and bright. Home suddenly doesn’t feel so desolate.

“You can do better than that,” she teases.

“Hmm... What about this one? Even in the astral plane, where gravity is fickle, I would still fall for you.”

“Oh, Gods above.” She laughs until her eyes shine. Astarion leans down and kisses the single teardrop creeping out of the corner of her eye. “One more.”

“Another?” He looks deeply into her eyes, which gleam brightly as if laced with flame, shining with every beautiful shade of her being. He grins at the memory, and this time, when he says it, it does not sadden him. “I love you, Solicallor.”

“I love you, too, Aerasumé,” she says, running her fingers through his hair and tousling it playfully. “You’re cute.”

“Bad girl,” he purrs. “Retribution is required.”

She warns, “Don’t do it!”

“Don’t do what, love? This?”

Astarion tickles her until she is fighting for breath between her laughter, squirming under him as he pins her with his body, and pleading for forgiveness.

“That was rude!” She sucks in heavy breaths. “You better watch your back, Astarion. I’m going to strike when you least expect it.”

“I await the day you’re spritely enough to catch me.”

Astarion moulds his lips to hers, basking in the warmth that radiates across his cool skin. He nips her lower lip impatiently when she doesn’t part her lips for him. If miracles have a taste, he’s positive they would taste like her. He places chaste kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

She looks at him lustily, batting her long lashes. “What are you doing?”

“Well,” he rucks up her shirt, placing a kiss on her stomach. He grins. “We find ourselves alone, truly and completely alone, in the middle of nowhere. Honestly, darling, do I have to spell it out for you? I want to make you scream while I make love to you in our home, in our bed.”

She stares at him with her wide doe-eyes shining brightly as if scattered with dewdrops. “Be mine, Astarion.” She whispers.

“I have never not been yours, Kamena.” Astarion murmurs between kisses, inhaling the scent of her.

She pushes his shirt over his shoulders, and he throws it off hastily. Astarion cups her breast, thumb rubbing over the hard peak of her nipple. She moans, and every breathy little noise and pound of her hectic heartbeat is a symphony to his ears. He rolls her sensitive peaks between his thumb and forefinger. She sucks in a sharp, wavering breath, and his cock twitches, rock hard and eager against his trousers.

Her hands run reverently up his sides to his chest, letting the pads of her fingers ghost over his nipples, making him shudder with a groan. Every place her lips meet his skin radiates vitality, as if she’s breathing life into him with every kiss. The fabric of his breeches strained against him is far too restricting, and he kicks them off, freeing his erection.

Astarion slips his hand between her legs, sliding his fingers into her wetness, swirling them around the border of her achy pearl, and she arches into him. Her tepid breath tickles his skin as she muffles her cries against his shoulder.

“Gods,” he pants, and is surprised to find himself breathing so heavily. “Don’t hold back. It’s just us. Scream for me, my love.”

Her eyelashes flutter as she cries out, and he cannot help it; he fucking moans with her. Every sound emanating from her makes his yearning flood him in an intense upsurge, making his cock twitch and beg for attention. He’s not sure he’s ever been this aroused, this openly intimate, with no hint of the shadows that have constrained him before.

He desires her like a magnet clings to its polar opposite, impossible to sever and hopelessly drawn to the very core of its existence.

Astarion eases two fingers into her, pumping them slowly deeper and deeper while he sucks her tender rosebuds, wresting whimpers and moans from her full lips. Once her body has adjusted, he hooks his fingers just so, finding and stroking her most sensitive spot. He adjusts the pressure until he finds one that makes her breath catch and has her moaning, unbridled and wanton.

“O—oh,” she whimpers; her eyes squeezed closed, tugging at the bedsheets. “Hells. A-f-fuck—Astarion.”

Gods. He loves that sound; his name a prayer upon her lips.

He could undo her like this, but Hells, he craves the taste of her lust. Astarion licks and kisses her stomach as he continues to thrust his fingers into her sensually. She blinks slowly and watches him crawl down her body with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

Astarion snaps his eyes to hers, kissing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and then pushes her leg, spreading her for him. He pants shakily, opening his mouth and pressing his tongue against her clit.

He groans gutturally under his own rampant desire as he laps up her sweet arousal. She squirms and whimpers with every lick of his tongue, every pump of his fingers, and he can’t help but wrap his hand around his throbbing cock and stroke himself.

Her fingers twist into his hair, and he closes his eyes as he savours her. Astarion takes his time working her to her climax until her thighs start to tremble, her moans come between uneven breaths, and a flush blooms over her skin.

Astarion’s fingers continue to rub that perfect spot inside her. His lips close around her swollen clit. He sucks gently, flits, and flutters his tongue in the way he knows will send her cascading into ecstasy.

Her body convulses, thighs trembling on either side of him as she succumbs to her climax. He indulges himself, watching her come, watching her lose herself in blinding sensations.

He’s not sure he’s ever seen anything so godsdamned spellbinding and arousing.

But he’s not quite done with her yet. He angles his fingers, pulses his tongue, and watches her ride out every wave of pleasure, drinking in her nonsensical whimpers. Only when she’s gasping for breath and shaking does he let up.

“You, my love, are a delectable treat.” He purrs, crawling up her flushed body until he’s holding himself above her. “In so many more ways than one.”

“Show me,” she stammers between irregular breaths.

He kisses her intimately, his tongue still coated in her rapture, exploring her mouth. Kamena carves her curves into every contour of his body, pressing her heated skin to his.

This is the way he remembers her - unapologetic, unafraid, and passionate.

Astarion grasps her hips, pulling her toward him, and runs his aching cock through her seam. “S-shit,” he stutters at the exquisite sensation.

He watches raptly as his cock sinks into her, swallowed in tight warmth, his girth stretching her. They fit together too perfectly to be anything other than made for each other.

He thrusts slowly, deeply, and intensely. Every moan he liberates from her is echoed with his own. They are both a mess of desiring hands, deep, intimate kisses, and promises of devotion and love.

She folds her arms around his neck, pulling herself flush to him, her breasts heaving against his chest. He leans back, sitting on his ankles with her in his lap and her legs around his waist. He plunges deeper, grinding into her, and she clenches, squeezing him as his length massages her ridges.

She is like supping on dawn’s fire, the way she lights up just for him is the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

Bliss escalates and flows, surging between them, and she melts into him. He laces his fingers into her hair, and her body tenses at the threshold of her release, every muscle quivering against him. She whines into his mouth, and he increases the pace of his thrusts, bringing her higher, higher, higher.

His own breathing is ragged and uneven; his body taut and veiled with sweat. Every thrust draws a panting whimper from his lips. He kisses her deeply, devout and passionate, as he throws her over the edge.

Her sex is still spasming around him as he bucks his hips into her, his forehead pressed to hers and her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Every erratic pump of his hips is met with another shockwave running through her, stimulating his sensitive head, and he cries out loudly as his own release takes hold, a swelling wave of fire blazing through him with an intensity he’s never known.

He grinds his hips while his cock pulses deeply inside her, filling her completely.

Time seems to stop as they sit together in this everlasting serenity, holding each other closely, bodies trembling in the aftermath.

Marry me.

The thought comes unbidden to him. In his confusion, he does not dare speak it aloud. An idea spurred on by a moment of passion, surely.

Once her heart rate has returned to a steady pace, he nuzzles her, nose to nose, and she giggles, light, airy, and happy. He would give anything to keep her here in this moment where she is weightless and worry-free.

He kisses her once more, gentle and cherishing. She looks up at him, and he gazes back at her. There is no need for words. Their eyes have a secret language that only their souls are fluent in.

Good Gods. Marry me.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 astarion #astarion x you #astarion x mc #astarion #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #astarion romance #baldurs gate astarion #shadows of the past

43 notes · View notes

kookslastbutton · 7 hours

Text

Those Eyes Chico ༓ myg (m) | chapter two

✑ Summary: As the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

pairing: idol!yoongi x plus size!poc!reader

genre/AU: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, coworkers2friends2lovers, winter setting, forbidden love

word count: 6.1k+

warnings: This chapter in particular is written from Yoongi's perspective, oc is 28, Yoon is 30, oc is not originally from South Korea, oc has light brown eyes, swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of body shaming by Hybe executive, bestie!tae is wonderful support 🥹, light fighting between members (literally crack), Namjoon has a little crush, Oc being a total boss at work bc she is amazing at her job, and cute & meaningful Yoon and OC interactions that make them finally start bonding (a little flirty too, hehe) 😉

now playing: Sweet Dreams by The Last Shadow Puppets

a/n: CHAPTR TWO IS HERE! GOD...the slow burn exists outside the series too with me not updating for two months. I'm sorry guys but TYSM for your patience! I'm VERY excited to release this chapter bc I think Yoon & Oc are super cute, hehe. Okay anyway, this series is dedicated to my wonderfully crazy friend and sorta beta, Gloom @theuselessdaydreamingidiot, and to all our fellow Yoon lovers bc we miss our sweet man SO MUCH 🥺 Enjoy! 🥰 Also huge thank you to @itaeewon for designing this beautiful series header! Love it!!

Series Masterlist | next chapter >>

Yoongi stands with his hands placed loosely on his hip, chest heaving as he attempts to catch his breath. The seven of them had been practicing choreography for their new RUN BTS song nonstop when Jimin called for a much-needed, fifteen-minute break. There’s a part of him that’s thanking the younger for it and another that’s wishing he hadn’t, as every moment left alone with his thoughts is spent decoding his last encounter with you at the cafeteria.

Why had you made such a beeline for the exit the moment he was waved over by his member?

You also completely ignored his attempts to greet you on your way out. He only stopped by the cafeteria to slip an orange in his pocket before returning to his studio. He didn’t mean to intrude or incite that you had to leave with his sudden presence.

Taehyung assured him that you merely left to tend to work matters, which he’d typically sum as hyper-fixation with one’s work as he’s prone to do the same, but this felt different at its core. Your behavior seemed more intentional than that. The last thing he wants to do is misread the whole situation, but he must’ve done or said something to cause your uneasiness.

“Hyung, how did the album meeting go this morning?” A clear voice comes from Yoongi's left as his fellow band member, Namjoon, strides next to him, water bottle clenched in his fist. Like himself, large droplets of sweat dots around the man’s brow. The minor interruption shakes Yoongi out of his slightly dazed state.

“Went well.” He takes a big swish of his own water before screwing the cap back on. “We reviewed everything in three hours and the album looks better than I anticipated. There are a couple of promotional strategies that still need finalizing, but I’m pretty confident about it overall.”

“That’s great, man. __-nim’s been doing good work with TXT for the last few years, so she’s definitely suited for the job. I thought about requesting her help to promote Indigo but the timing of it all didn’t work.” Namjoon’s voice drops an octave at the last part, as if remorseful for more than a missed professional opportunity.

“Ah, maybe your next album hyung,” Jimin suddenly chimes in, slapping the taller man on the shoulder from the side. “I have a feeling you and __-nim would work well together. Think about it, you’re both natural born leaders and you’re smart too. I bet __ -nim has as high of an IQ as you.”

Namjoon’s cheeks flush with the faintest tint of rose as Jimin flashes a knowingly cheeky grin. Yoongi, of course, witnesses the entire exchange, the slightest part of him feeling uprooted by the thought of his band member and new marketing manager suddenly hitting it off. He decides not to comment on the matter, choosing to remain in ignorance instead. This is all speculation, right?

Now that they’re all on the subject of his album though, it gets him thinking that maybe he’s been too narrow viewed regarding the reason for your off putting behavior at lunch.

D-Day’s release has become a consuming priority lately, with everyone involved worked to the bone. Aside from himself, you’ve been bearing the brunt of it. He’s appreciative of course, considering the album holds a deep sense of meaning to him, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it to be perfect. A little pushback during the first proposal is natural, yet he did get more resistant toward ideas during this morning’s meeting than anticipated. Perhaps some of his nitpicking was unnecessary, adding to your already heavy load.

Yoongi’s head feels worse the longer he entertains the possibility. He doesn’t want to make the first time working together a complete whirlwind, especially this early. A strong, healthy partnership starts with trust, safety, and mutual respect. The same philosophy can be applied to relationships of varying natures. That reminds him—since when did Taehyung and you become so close? He’s been ruminating over it all afternoon, like a jigsaw puzzle he can’t solve.

It’s odd how little he knows.

“I heard someone mention __-nim over here. I want in.” A small grumble leaves Yoongi’s lips as Jungkook pushes next to him, displeased by how tiny his space bubble has gotten due to the huddle his members have formed around him. Just why the hell is everyone so interested in his new marketing director? That's what he wants to know.

“Can you introduce me to her sometime hyung?" Jungkook pleads. "I’m thinking about releasing an album in the next year and it’d be great if you could hook us up…yknow?”

Oh, Yoongi knows. He knows exactly what this young buck is insinuating, but it isn’t mating season yet and even if it were he will do no such thing as to “hook them up”. Besides, his conscience tells him that you wouldn't be interested in the company of a younger man anyway—not that your dating life is any of his business or anything.

“Get in line Jungkookie, behind Namjoon. He needs her for his album first.” Jimin squeezes down on Namjoon’s muscular shoulders with both hands, shaking him just enough to hype him up. His hands are removed seconds later when he’s told to knock it off.

“That’s enough about this, okay? I’m pretty sure Yoongi-hyung is the only one who actually needs __-nim right now because, in case you dumbasses have forgotten, D-Day is set to release in April,” Namjoon scolds the two with a commanding tone. Jungkook, per usual, remains persistent in his original request and keeps his full attention on Yoongi.

“Anyway hyung, as I was saying, I know your album takes priority so I’m in no hurry to meet her. I can be pretty patient as you know-“

“Heh, that’s a lie.”

“Shove it Jimin, no one’s talking to you.” Jungkook’s eyebrows scrunch together as Jimin snorts helplessly next to Namjoon.

“You shove it Kook,” Jimin counters. “And stop trying to date __-nim! Find your own woman!”

“I’m not trying to date her! She's my noona for gods sake! Do you think I’m oblivious to how the public reacts to idols dating? Also, __-nim is a Hybe employee, not an idol. I can only imagine the type of scandal the media would spin it as.”

“Right, we all know you actually just want to take her to your bed instead,” Jimin interrupts for the umpteenth time. “Our handsome leader, on the other hand, is interested in her professional abilities. We can learn a lot from him.”

“Why are you always trying to start a fight with me Jimin? Is it because I can take you, now that I've been building up more muscle?” Jungkook’s accusations earn him nothing more than a sea of eye-rolls until Jimin lunges himself towards him, puffing out his chest the best he can to size him up.

Namjoon rubs his face with a hand, a clear visual display of his exhaustion. He’s been moderating these stupid squabbles for nine years now. “Alright very mature, biggest boy band in the world and this is what it’s come to? Amazing, congrats to everyone for winning the award for most-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Seokjin interjects, effortlessly shouting over everyone while waving his hands. “My brothers…why are we fighting over here like a couple of peacocks? We are all beautiful in our own, individual ways. Mine, for example, is my handsome face.”

“For the love of god hyung, we’re trying to settle something. Go take your inspirational pep talk elsewhere!” Jungkook bends his knees, swooping down to throw Jimin over his shoulder but he misses when the man starts tickling him ruthlessly.

“St-ah-stop it Jimin!"

“You stop it, you frickin’ brat! Trying to take advantage of our hyungs for your own selfish gain.” Jimin then slaps Jungkook on the ass which does not go unappreciated as Hoseok cackles from the other side of the room. Up until this point, he’s been scrolling on his phone, completely unbothered by the chaos. As Hoseok nears the action, Jungkook delivers a swift kick to Jimin’s rear end.

“Ow, what the fuck Kook?!” Jimin tries soothing the sting by massaging it with his hands. “You little prick!”

“Oh come on, I barely hit you. Gaining sympathy points won’t help this time, plus I see you trying to hide a grin. You think this shit is funny. You’re sick you know that?”

Jimin makes a move to return the kick to his youngest member but ends up hitting a far taller, and leaner subject instead. Taehyung, who just returned from the bathroom, throws a hand over his abdomen and grunts from the sudden impact.

“What is—shit Jimin that really hurt!” Taehyung’s baritone voice echoes off the walls as he winces from the pain. He takes a few deep breaths, then viciously eyes the two brawlers followed by the rest of the room. “What the hell is going on? I heard you all talking about __-nim from the hallway. Yoongi-hyung here is trying to kick off his album and tour, which we are supposed to be celebrating over drinks this Friday, but here you are arguing with each other and who has the biggest dick. Well, you can all put it away because as __-nim’s best friend, and number one wingman, only I’m allowed to set her up with someone and it won’t be with any of you! Sorry hyung…” he looks at Namjoon who appears to have brushed the comment off.

As soon as Taehyung ceases his mini-speech, eery silence sets in. Hoseok is the first to dare say a word.

“Uh, so what’s this about being her best friend Tae?”

“Yeah, I had no idea either.” Jimin quirks his head to the side, awaiting the details.

“Same,” Namjoon adds in a short breath.

“What happened to us, man?” Jungkook pouts at Taehyung, a total 180 from moments ago when he was in an unsolicited sparring match with Jimin. “You used to share everything with me. Now you’re holding out on me. Since when did you and __-nim start hanging out?”

Yoongi’s ears perk up for the first time since all the commotion began, curious to hear Taehyung’s response. He only recently discovered the blossoming friendship hours ago and even then, it was a brief inside look.

“I didn’t think to mention it but yeah, we started talking since her first day at Hybe. I bumped into her on the way into work, early morning for both of us. I expected her to be a bit on the reserved side, considering she was a new hire, but she was quite friendly. The more we talked, the more I felt like I knew her as if a childhood best friend I’d reconnected with.” Pausing, he wets his lips before continuing. “We share a lot of our meals together now, like our lunches during the weekday. Her food tastes amazing by the way. I think she missed her calling as a chef but it’s more than food— it’s a love language, a labor of love.”

“Wow, you two sure are connected,” Hoseok speaks first again, seeing the rest of his members working to process the new bit of info.

“Platonically, yes.”

“This’ll be good for Yoongi-hyung and his album then! No bad blood exists here!” Hoseok shifts his gaze between Taehyung and Yoongi, pleased with the outcome. The older of the two remains speechless, yet it’s far from a dazed expression. Yoongi is instead deep in thought, the wheels turning in his head.

So maybe it’s true that birds of a feather flock together, he hums to himself. The two of you seem to be social butterflies with a vase full of commonalities. He, on the other hand, prefers his solitude. That’s not to say he’s a hermit or anything though. Hybe hosts a company-wide New Year’s Eve party every single year and he’s made his best effort to attend them all. He mainly mingles with his members, but he still makes sure to small talk with other coworkers. Come to think of it, did he even see you at last year’s New Year’s Eve party?

He can’t remember much from the night except Seokjin scolding him for not wishing him a happy birthday the minute the clock struck midnight. He was a bit tipsy at that point. Taehyung disappeared soon after to make his usual rounds, stopping to chat with everyone in his path. Maybe he took off to talk to you during that time.

Okay, he really needs to stop thinking about you.

"Just to confirm, is everyone still on for Friday night to celebrate D-Day?" Jimin pipes. "I booked us a good place to have some food and drinks.

Taehyung nods, "I am, as long as it's not the same place we saw our CFO and his much younger date feeding each other. I couldn't eat for the rest of that night."

Jungkook fakes a gag before replying. "I'm sorry but does anyone know how is he still working here? Guy creeps me out."

"I swear, I couldn't agree more. Just yesterday he made an egregiously body-shaming comment toward __-nim to someone else on the board. She kept a brave front when she told me, but I'm damn tempted to get him removed from his position myself!" Taehyung's nostrils flare as he shares his frustration, fingers digging into his hips.

Yoongi takes a final chug of his water before abruptly tossing the bottle on the floor. A sharp crack resounds through the space, instantly commanding the authority of the room. “Fifteen minutes is over,” he gruffs. “It might be twenty minutes with all the bickering earlier. We don't have time to be talking about this anymore.”

“Come on now," Hoseok says. "Didn't you hear what Taehyung said? Our CFO really is a class-A jerk. I feel so bad that __-nim has to put up with his bullshit, she doesn't deserve it." His eyes frantically search the room, hoping to rally support.

"Don't worry about that asshole," Yoongi assures, "I'll handle it." He strides over to his choreographed position on the dance floor as if a leader in his own right, the rest of the members following in his steps.

"Just don't kill him, hyung," Namjoon says, resting a hand on the older's shoulder from behind. Yoongi merely snorts lightly in reply.

Yoongi is dead tired, his feet feeling heavier the minute he stands from his studio chair. He could have left hours ago, but here it is nearly 9:30 at night, and he's only just leaving the office.

As he shuffles down the hallway towards the elevator, he notices the eerie silence. It's thick, almost palpable. There's not a soul left in the building this late at night. When the elevator doors open, he leans casually against the metal rail, closes his eyes, and mentally retraces his day.

Overall, it was a decent day, he thinks, productive at best. Skipping dinner to work on his album tracks was an easy decision, but he might be paying for it now given the intense growling of his stomach. Despite his songs being considered perfect by his members, he can't help but tweak each one a final time. It's as if his gut tells him there's still a piece missing from the whole.

All at once, the elevator comes to a sudden stop. Yoongi's eyes shoot open, anticipation flooding his senses. Is someone still here? He listens intently, straining to hear any sound over the faint hum of the elevator. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, the elevator doors slide open to reveal an empty, dimly lit hallway. It's the 16th floor. He hesitates for a second, peering into the shadows, but there’s no sign of anyone. Strange.

Just as the elevator doors begin to close, Yoongi hears a distant, unmistakable voice. "Please hold the door!" you plead, your voice strained with urgency. He responds immediately, stretching out an arm to block the door. "Thank you so much," you say, slipping in beside him, your bag thrown over your shoulder.

Yoongi watches as you enter, curiosity in his eyes. It seems you were of like mind tonight, working late and likely burdened by the extra work he caused for you. The feeling of tension is as clear as it was yesterday, lingering as a reminder of the unspoken discomfort between you both.

But then again, there's that issue Taehyung mentioned, looming in his thoughts. He hadn't realized you overheard the horrendous comment his CFO made about you. No wonder you hurried away from him like a bat out of hell yesterday; you knew he knew. He wouldn't dare shine a light on the situation and risk embarrassing you further; no one needs to relive such a belittling experience. Yet, he's wrestling with the right words to say.

"Heading home, Min PD-nim?" You surprise him by speaking first, voice firm with a touch of gentleness.

Yoongi allows a faint smile to tug at the corners of his lips, hoping it'll relieve some tension. "I am, it's been quite a day. What about you?"

You nod, shifting the bag on your shoulder. "Same here. Just had to wrap up a few things before heading out."

He hesitates for a moment, noting how you speak as if it were only a few minutes past five or six in the evening. "I understand. I was working in my studio up until now. I should be back up there tomorrow too," he says, then chuckles lightly, "Sometimes I feel like I should just live up there."

You return the subtle laugh and smile softly at him, your light brown eyes catching his dark ones. It feels like the same prolonged gaze you shared upon first meeting, yet now, it's somehow become easier; perhaps a hint of familiarity.

"By the way," he continues, seizing the opportunity, "feel free to call me Yoongi-ssi. I'm not that formal in case you didn't know." He playfully gestures to his casual attire; tan cargo pants, grey plaid button-down, and sneakers.

You seem hesitant towards the request at first, evident from your delayed response. "Are you sure?" you choke. "I don't want to over step my boundaries."

"There's no need to worry about that," he assures. "We're on equal level aren't we? If we're going to be working side by side for the next eight months give or take, I want us to feel comfortable with each other. Please, call me Yoongi-ssi."

"Okay, I might need some time to get used to that," you say, head nodding, "I'll try calling you Yoongi-ssi from now on."

"There's one other thing too," he pauses, "since we'll be working on D-Day's promotion from start to finish, I'll have many of my own opinions. It's a natural instinct for me, but I don't want to be a hinderance. I don't want anyone else giving you issues either, so I'd like to hear your full thoughts on matters, especially when it comes to important decisions."

"That means a lot Yoongi-ssi, thank you. I'm very grateful that you'd allow me to be a part of this and I'd very much like us to have an equal partnership. This is your album though, so I want to make sure it gets the recognition it deserves in the way you'd prefer."

Yoongi glances at the floor numbers displayed to the right of the elevator doors. Any second now and you'll reach the lobby. He wouldn't mind talking longer, but letting you both get a decent night's sleep is the far better idea at this point.

"I trust that D-Day is in the right hands with you, __ssi," he replies. "It's why I recommended that we work together to promote it in the first place. Bang PD was also confident in the idea. We don't doubt your expertise for a second." He pauses when the elevator doors slide open and allows you to be the first to exit. "Have a good night, okay?"

For the first time, you reciprocate the wish with a full, illuminating smile. It's not a professional one, Yoongi notes, its a real one—as genuine and sincere as his words. He takes it as a sign that the tides may finally be turning for the better. "You too," he hears you say before you push through the large revolving doors and step into the cool night air.

In the evenings that follow, Yoongi finds himself back in his studio as promised, a glass of whiskey in hand. He ultimately decided that if he was going to be here until all hours of the night, he might as well have a cold beverage to keep him company.

As he leans back in his chair, swirling the dark amber liquor in his glass, his mind inadvertently wanders to you. Were you downstairs again? Were you here with him? It would seem that given your unexpected late-night encounter in the elevator, the validity of the idea wouldn't be all that wild or far-fetched.

With each passing minute, as the clock inches closer to the late hours, he finds himself circling back to the same thought. It's as if the possibility of running into you has become a highlight of his night.

Just then, a deep and familiar voice interrupts. "Burning the midnight oil again, hyung?"

Startled, Yoongi looks up to see Taehyung standing in the doorway, a sympathetic smile on his face. Despite it being almost 9 at night, his younger member is nothing short of flawless in appearance.

"Yeah, working on my tracks," Yoongi replies, offering a small smile in return. "What are you doing here?"

Taehyung steps further into the room, hand tucked in his pocket. "I wanted to stay late to keep __-nim company, but I'm not sure how much longer she plans on staying tonight. I was on my way out when I figured I'd stop by to see you too."

"Well, thanks for thinking of me. Want a drink?" He offers, nodding towards the nearby whiskey bottle.

"No, thanks," Taehyung declines politely, shaking his head. "I'll let you enjoy your whiskey in peace. Although, __-nim might take you up on that same offer one of these days. She has a strong taste for it, as you do. Anyway, I'm heading out. Don't overdo it with your music, hyung, they're already perfect."

Once Taehyung leaves the studio, Yoongi's previous string of thoughts return to him tenfold.

So you really are here, he muses, and you happen to like the same throat-burning alcohol. Should he venture downstairs and offer a drink? No, that would probably be too much, and he wouldn't want to interrupt you. Maybe if Taehyung were accompanying him, but not alone; he doesn't share enough rapport with you to merit such a spontaneous drop-in yet.

No, he takes another sip of his whiskey, he'll see you tomorrow morning instead; during your morning meeting. But that gets him thinking—he's still yet to decide on whether or not he'll make an appearance on Fallon's show. He’d done it with his members numerous times, but this would be the first time doing it alone. His album would indeed benefit from the exposure, though.

"Damn it," he curses, raising from his seat. "I work my ass off. I work my ass off for it all!" He then sits back down, finishing off the rest of his whiskey in one gulp, the burn soothing his frustration momentarily. With a resigned sigh, he turns his attention back to his music. "Damn it, I guess I'll do it."

If it weren't for his phone notification reminding him of his 10 am meeting on Friday, Yoongi would have missed it entirely. Normally, he never forgets important events, but several late nights in the studio had predictably caught up with him. He feels extremely sleep-deprived today, his memory more prone to blanking than usual. Waking up with a throbbing headache at 5 am, which hasn't dimmed in the slightest, doesn’t help either. Nonetheless, with only ten minutes to spare, Yoongi has no choice but to pull himself together and head downstairs to the conference room.

"Good morning, Min PD-nim," you greet him as he walks through the door. "We're about to start."

Yoongi drags out a chair and takes a seat. You look nice today, he notes quietly to himself. He makes sure to send a small smile your way before returning the warm greeting. "Good morning __-ssi," he says. "I told you we can speak informally didn't I?"

He waits for your response, easily tuning out the startled reactions from the rest of the team. Most high-ranking officials in the organization expected to be addressed formally by those in lower positions, but here he was, openly requesting you to speak as equals. It was almost unheard of during work hours. He was Min Yoongi, after all.

"Right, of course," you reply, "You'll have to excuse me, Yoongi-ssi. It slipped my mind for a moment."

Yoongi watches as you shuffle a few papers in your hand before continuing. "To get us started, I thought we'd discuss the decision to schedule a spot on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon. Will we be proceeding with this?"

"After mauling it over I think it's a good idea for the album. Do we have an idea of when this would happen?"

"Ideally after the album releases and around the time the U.S. tour begins April 26th. I say we aim for early May. Given Fallon's show's high demand, we'll need to get a jump on this as soon as we can." You shift your attention to your digital marketing and promotions team. "So-hyun, can you reach out to the producers and see what strings we can pull?"

She nods, scribbling a quick note on her writing pad. "We'll reach out today. I'll let you know as soon as we get a response."

"Excellent, thank you. I'm glad to hear you're on board with this Yoongi-ssi. It'll be a great way to promote D-Day and attract a global audience. The more smartly we utilize our resources, the better your album will be positioned in the current market." You take a brief pause to flip through your notes again. "Speaking of resources, we'll need to start booking magazine shoots and interviews. I'm proposing we run cover pages with Marie Claire Korea and Vogue Japan."

Yoongi would be taken aback by the flood of ideas and schedules you're firing at him, all within the first fifteen minutes, if he weren't already aware of your level of competency. This is exactly why he chose you, he hums to himself, your preparedness is impressive, but not surprising.

"I presume this will take place next year?" he asks. "During their spring issues?"

"Absolutely. We'll submit inquiries soon to get the ball rolling, but having the shoots completed now would be premature. Plus, it'll take some time before there are any openings with the companies. I think we should be consistent with tour dates and have Marie Claire go out in May and Vogue ready in August of next year."

"Okay, I'm fine with all that but we'll need to have something exciting released now, don't we? I know I start my weekly lives tonight, but shouldn't there be something more we can do?"

"I agree," you reply. "That's why I wanted to propose a brand new idea that came to me a couple of nights ago while I was drafting promotional content. Anytime idols release a new album or music, it gets published on YouTube, right?"

He nods, curious on where you're heading. "Right."

"Why don't we start a talk show with you as the host Yoongi-ssi? It can allow your fans to see another side of you, as well as the general public. We can invite your BTS members as guests where you can discuss music or past challenges that you've had to overcome—the choice is yours. To make it more interesting for viewers, you can have these frank conversations over a glass of whiskey or soju."

"I like the idea," he says, weighing it in his mind. "What would the timeline look like for this?"

"If we move forward with the idea, I suggest December 5th and we continue it for a max of two months. I know that only leaves us with just under two weeks to get started, but creating the set shouldn't take more an a day or a day and a half. We can also easily shoot a 30 to 60-minute video in an afternoon and publish it on YouTube the following week. Of course, a preview of the show will need to go out beforehand."

"Would we be able to invite other guests to the show? Outside of my members, I mean."

"Yes, feel free to invite whoever you'd like. We can start with the member for the first several episodes but ultimately, welcoming a variety of guests from the same or differing industries would be the goal."

"If I may." A member of the social media team suddenly joins the discussion, "I think Kim Namjoon-nim might be a good person to feature first since Indigo releases December 2nd."

Yoongi nods in agreement. "I can ask him."

"That would be fantastic, actually. If his availability is limited, we could have him guest star for the second or third episode instead," you add. "Hoseok released Jack in the Box this summer so we could have him be the first guest as well."

"Do we have a name yet?"

"Suchwita," you answer without hesitation. "It's a play on words with Daechwita."

"Suchwita..." Yoongi repeats, "Time to get drunk." He chuckles at the last few words, amusing the room, but you remain contemplative.

"How about Suchwita...time to drink with Suga, instead? It's simple and has a slight whimsical nature."

"Sure, let's use that," he answers, noticing that you've already begun jotting down the idea. "Yours is better."

Despite the adrenaline from the productive meeting with you and your team, Yoongi still feels the weight of his sleepless nights bearing down on him. His headache remains relentless and he is in dire need of a moment to himself. Once the team disperses, he slips his phone into his pocket and makes his way outside. The crisp, early morning air should offer him some relief, along with the pack of cigarettes tucked in his pocket.

When he reaches the building's designated smoking area, Yoongi takes out a cigarette and lights it, taking a deep drag as he leans against the cool brick wall. As he exhales, watching the smoke dissipate into the clear sky, his thoughts drift back to the meeting. The idea of hosting a talk show, "Suchwita...time to drink with Suga," still lingers in his mind. It’s an intriguing concept, and he can already envision the relaxed, candid conversations that could come from it.

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching on the ground nearby.

"Oh, Yoongi-ssi," you say with alarm, obviously startled by his presence. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll come back lat-"

"There's no need for that. Join me if you'd like." Yoongi watches as you hesitate to accept his offer, your feet already positioned to head back inside the building. "Seriously, there's plenty of room, and no matter what they'll tell you, I don't bite."

He allows himself to smirk as you carefully move beside him, only stopping when there is at least two feet of space between you both.

"Thanks," you say, pulling out your own pack of cigarettes and lighting one. "I needed a break too."

"Rough morning?"

"Just busy," you reply, leaning against the wall next to him. "But the meeting went well. We should be able to get the ball rolling now that we have a more finalized plan. I'm glad you liked the idea of starting Suchwita, by the way."

"I do," Yoongi says, nodding. "It has a lot of potential and I'm sure Namjoon will be more than happy to help us out. He's a natural at this kind of stuff. I guess it's why he's our band leader."

"You know you're good at all of this too, don't you, Yoongi-ssi?" You pause, taking a puff of your cigarette. "Even when you have a lot on your mind and a packed schedule, you have a knack for making people feel at ease. It's why I think producing Suchwita will be such a great way to connect with fans and other artists—you'll be the host."

He chuckles, appreciative of the remark. "You really think that? That I make people feel at ease? It's not what a lot of people assume."

"Nah," you reply, tilting your head up toward the clouds. "They're just on the outside looking in. Those who know you, who are around you and talk to you, will agree that you're a pretty calming presence."

"Well, I think we're not so different then." Yoongi shifts his eyes to your face, still looking up at the sky, and smiles softly. "So, what made you come to BigHit? Didn't you say you worked for Atlantic Records? That's a pretty good gig."

"Yeah, it was. I learned a lot there, and man, I was thrilled when I got offered the job as a brand manager. I've always loved music, ever since I was a kid. I could connect so intimately with the lyrics. Music is one of the few things that could soothe me during rough times, and it still does today. I'm sure you can understand."

Yoongi nods, intent on listening to your every word, intrigued by your story.

"Anyway, sorry about getting long-winded here" you chuckle. "I ultimately decided to move on when Bang PD reached out and offered me the marketing manager position for TXT. It gave me the chance to be a more integral part of bringing music to individuals who need it most. It's like we say, 'music for art and healing.' I'd never had the opportunity to manage a completely new set of musicians before either, let alone a group. Plus, being on the global marketing team? I couldn't turn it down."

"It makes sense why you joined us then, and I have to say, it's a blessing you did too. Music is a way of communication for me, a way I can best express my story. That includes my past, present, and hopefully future. After hearing all you shared, I don't think there's anyone else I'd trust with handling my album promos." Yoongi pauses a moment, unsure if he should ask the next thing on his mind. "How come we never met before? I mean really meet and talk?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure myself. But things have a way of falling into place when the time is right, I suppose." You're now looking at him, the intensity of your gaze mirrors his own. A gentle breeze tousles a few strands of your hair and for a split moment, Yoongi begins to understand what Taehyung meant earlier when he said it feels like he's known you his whole life, like a childhood friend he'd reconnected with. While it may not be to that extent for himself, there's a comforting warmth emanating from you that leaves him feeling strangely tranquil.

"Given the circumstances, I feel like we should have at least met through Taehyung by now," he slips out. "Or even at a company-sponsored event."

"Why, do you like me that much, Yoongi-ssi? After five days of working together?" Your playful tease catches him off guard, revealing a side of you he hadn't seen before. It's kind of cute-wait, what?

"I-"

"Sorry," you quickly interject, feeling the need to backtrack. "I shouldn't have said it like that."

"Don't worry, there's no need for apologies. And to answer your question, I like you enough." He hopes you can hear the tease in his own tone as he responds.

You both lapse into a comfortable silence for the next few minutes, the only sounds being the distant hum of traffic and the occasional chirp of a bird. He finds all of it soothing in a way he can't quite explain.

After a few minutes, you turn to him, your expression thoughtful. "You know, if you ever need to talk or just need a break, I'm here. We're teammates now."

Yoongi looks at you, his tired eyes softening with gratitude. "Thanks, __-ssi."

You give him a reassuring smile before pushing off the wall. "I'll let you finish your cigarette. See you later? And by later, I likely mean at 9 or 10 pm in our company elevator."

"Yeah, see you later," he laughs, watching as you walk back toward the building. He takes one last inhale, extinguishing the cigarette and letting the remaining smoke escape his lips slowly.

Yeah, he likes you just enough.

a/n: Hope you enjoyed it! Lmk what you think 🥰

Tags:

@jksjx @junecat18 @babystarcandyjk97 @mygssibal @unoriginal-username15432 @vikibangtann @coffeedepressionsoup @jjkluver7 @p34rluv @tannieflix @kingofbodyrolls @butterymin @waitaminswife @mygssibal @rkivved-girl @parapiop7 @betysotelo18 @mimisweaterpaws @wobblewobble822 @a-gayish-unicorn @constancelayon @idkreallys-blog @juju-227592 @urlovelily @itsmina29 @jub-jub @cerulean1riz @rinkud

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

#yoongi angst #yoongi fluff #yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfics #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #bts smut #bts scenarios #fic:thoseeyeschico #kookslastbutton

30 notes · View notes