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aelinad · 2 days ago

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The Missing Track - Min Yoongi One-Shot

Pairing: !Idol Yoongi x ! producer f. reader

Genre: explicit romance (smut) !! MINORS DNI !! 🔞

Word count: ~ 30k

Summary: Suga of BTS is on the edge, racing against the clock to finish his solo album. With just three songs left to complete and a looming deadline, he's struggling to find inspiration. In a last-minute move, his company pairs him with the highly secretive Producer K, a renowned but elusive figure in the music industry. Everyone assumes Producer K is a male, but when Suga meets the mysterious producer, he's shocked to discover that K is actually a talented and confident woman. As they collaborate, the line between professional and personal begins to blur. Their chemistry is undeniable, but with a ticking clock and the pressure to deliver, can they finish the album on time? Or will their growing connection derail everything they've worked for? Secrets, passion, and music. Can Suga keep his focus, or will Producer K. change everything?

!! Warnings !!: vaginal sex, protected sex, oral sex, slow burn, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, jealousy

A/N: I miss these two already!! 🥺 This story was highly influenced by me having Yoongi's SDL and Reed Wonder's The machine on repeat. Hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I did writing it! Let me know your thoughts 💕.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The soft hum of equipment filled the studio, punctuated by the click-clack of Yoongi's keyboard. His desk was a mess of coffee cups, scribbled notes, and sheet music—proof of hours spent chasing inspiration that eluded him.

"Hyung," a staff member, Jihoon, said cautiously, standing near the doorway. "I think we need to talk about your album. Specifically, the last tracks you’re stuck on."

Yoongi swivelled his chair, eyebrows knitting together. "I'm not stuck," he said sharply. "I just need time."

"You have three months before the release date," Jihoon reminded him. "And right now, three of the songs don’t have melodies. You’ve been staring at the lyrics for weeks."

Yoongi sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "I’m working on it."

Jihoon hesitated, holding back a smirk. "The team suggested bringing in another producer."

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed. "I don’t need help. This is my album. I’ve handled everything myself before, haven’t I?"

"This time, we’re short on time," Jihoon countered. "And we’re talking about Prod. K. He’s incredible! The guy with the minimalist beats and genre-blending compositions. Even you’ve praised his work."

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "I praised the music, not the person. And I don’t work with strangers, especially ones I’ve never even met."

"It’s non-negotiable, hyung." Jihoon sighed. "The higher-ups already agreed. We’re bringing him in to collaborate."

"Bringing him in?" Yoongi repeated, his tone laced with sarcasm. "I’ve never even seen his face. For all I know, he could be some arrogant newbie."

Jihoon smirked, his gaze flickering with amusement Yoongi didn’t appreciate. "Lets not judge, just wait until you meet him."

Yoongi grumbled, turning back to his monitor. "Fine. But don’t expect me to make this easy for him. And when he leaves because I’m too ‘difficult,’ you can tell the higher-ups they were wrong."

~~ Y/N POV ~~ "Are you out of your mind?!" I hissed, pacing the small office where my team had dropped the bombshell of the century. "To collaborate with Suga of BTS in person? Sure, it’s an honor, but that’s a no from me. If my identity gets leaked, the fact that I’m a woman, working with him in some tiny studio, any sasaeng will have me on their hit list before I even step out the door."

My manager, Minji, leaned back in her chair, arms crossed but eyes pleading. "Y/N, listen. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. His songs are streamed millions of times. You can’t just brush this off."

"I’m not brushing it off," I shot back. "I respect his work, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not willing to risk it. There are plenty of artists who would kill to have me on their projects just by sending them my demo, and they’re happy to communicate with me online without ever knowing who I am. Why him? Why now? Why like this?"

Minji sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It’s not just about you. The label needs this. We’re in a tight spot financially, and this contract is massive. Do you know how much they’re offering?"

I didn’t want to hear the number. Money had never been my motivator, but the way Minji’s face softened told me it was enough to make a difference, not just for me but for my entire team. I groaned, dropping into a chair and crossing my arms. "Why can’t anyone hear my opinion? I don’t want to do this. I’m not just some faceless entity, you know."

"You’re not," Minji said gently. "But you also know how much this could elevate your career. Three songs, Y/N. That’s all they’re asking for. Just three."

Her words echoed in my head, the weight of them pulling me in two directions. Logic screamed to take the job, but fear—fear of exposure, of judgment—held me back.

"Fine," I said finally, hating how small my voice sounded. "I’ll think about it."

*** That night, I found myself on an unintentional deep dive into Min Yoongi’s a.k.a SUGA a.k.a AGUST D world. It started innocently enough: a quick search to refresh my memory of his discography. But then one song led to another, and another, until I was buried in hours of music he’d produced, lyrics he’d written, and performances that made me forget why I was so hesitant in the first place. Scrolling through fan edits and live clips, I couldn’t help but be charmed. There was a reason people adored him, not just for his talent, but for the quiet charisma that seeped through the screen. His easy confidence, the way he handled himself on stage and in interviews, was magnetic.

"Focus," I muttered to myself, shaking off the distraction. But the deeper I went into his work, the harder it was to ignore his genius.

His music was haunting, intricate, and raw. The kind of art that pulled you into someone’s soul, no matter how much they tried to hide. I couldn’t help but wonder how someone with this much expertise got stuck?

By the time dawn broke, I called Minji. "Minji," I said the moment she answered, her voice still groggy. "I’ll do it."

"Wait, what? You’re serious?" she asked, clearly surprised.

"Yes, but on one condition."

"Name it."

"No one finds out who I am. If my identity leaks, I’m out."

Minji exhaled sharply. "We’ll make sure of it. I’ll talk to the higher-ups and confirm everything. Thank you, Y/N. This is the right decision."

I wasn’t sure if it was the right decision, but it was the one I’d made. The next couple of days blurred into a whirlwind of paperwork. Contracts, NDAs, and endless signatures filled my time, the reality of the collaboration sinking in more and more with each passing document. Ironically, a small part of me hoped that Min Yoongi would refuse to sign the NDA. Maybe he’d see the clause about not sharing my identity, find it too ridiculous, and decide the collaboration wasn’t worth it.

But no.

He signed it.

When Minji told me, I stared at her like she’d grown a second head. "He signed it?"

"Yeah," she said, looking just as surprised. "No arguments, no complaints. Honestly, I thought he’d push back, but he didn’t."

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a long breath. "This guy… He’s full of surprises."

"Don’t get your hopes up," Minji warned. "Just because he signed doesn’t mean this will be smooth sailing."

"I know," I muttered. But in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder. How different was the man behind the screen, the one whose music I’d admired for a while, from the person I was about to meet?

*** A few days later, everything was finalized. Minji and I were contacted by Jihoon, one of the team members who worked closely with Suga.

"He’s coming to pick us up personally?" I asked Minji, eyebrows raised as I adjusted my headphones around my neck.

"Apparently," Minji replied, glancing at her phone. "Guess he wants to make sure we actually show up."

When Jihoon arrived, he was younger than I expected, his energy warm and casual. He greeted Minji with a polite bow and a bright smile, then turned to me. For a moment, his expression faltered, his eyes darting behind me like he was waiting for someone else to appear.

"Uh… Hi," he said, looking between Minji and me. "You’re both here for Suga, right?"

"Yes," Minji answered smoothly. "This is K." She gestured toward me.

Jihoon blinked, confusion written all over his face. "Wait… You’re Producer K?"

I gave him a tight-lipped smile. "That’s me."

"You’re kidding," he said, then immediately looked apologetic. "I mean, sorry, I just—uh—"

"You were expecting someone else?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Kind of, yeah," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. "No offense, but I thought you’d be, you know…"

"A guy," I finished for him, crossing my arms.

He laughed awkwardly. "Well, yeah. I mean, your music has this… vibe. It’s not what I’d expect from—" He cut himself off again, realizing he wasn’t helping.

"From a woman?" I challenged, though there was no malice in my tone.

"Not what I meant!" Jihoon exclaimed, waving his hands. "It’s just…forget it. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to offend you."

Minji chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "Don’t worry. She gets that a lot."

I didn’t hold it against him. The entire point of my stage name was to avoid this kind of reaction, but moments like these reminded me why I kept my identity under wraps. Jihoon composed himself quickly and gestured toward the sleek black van parked nearby. "Anyway, let’s get going. Suga’s waiting for us at HYBE."

*** The drive to HYBE was surprisingly pleasant. Jihoon was chatty, making an effort to ease the awkwardness of our initial interaction.

"So," he began, glancing at me through the rear-view mirror, "I’m curious. How long have you been producing?"

"About six years," I replied.

"Wow, and you’re already working with Suga," he said, genuinely impressed. "That’s not something just anyone gets to do."

"I’m aware," I said, keeping my tone neutral. "It’s a privilege."

He nodded. "Have you been a fan of his music for a while?"

I hesitated. "I respect his work. He’s incredibly talented."

Jihoon grinned knowingly. "You’re downplaying it, huh? That’s fine. Most people get nervous meeting him for the first time. Don’t worry, he’s actually a lot nicer than people think."

Minji let out a quiet laugh beside me. "I don’t think nervousness is the issue here."

Jihoon glanced between us, confused but wisely decided not to press further.

*** Pulling up to HYBE’s towering building was intimidating, to say the least. I’d seen pictures online, of course, but being there in person was a different experience.

"Here we are," Jihoon announced as he parked the van.

As we stepped out, I adjusted my hoodie, making sure it covered my face as much as possible. Even with the NDA in place, I couldn’t shake the paranoia of being recognized. Jihoon led us through the back entrance, avoiding the main lobby and elevators filled with staff and trainees. "We’re heading straight to the studio," he explained. "He’s already there."

The walk felt longer than it probably was, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. When we finally reached the studio, Jihoon paused at the door, turning to us.

"Ready?" he asked.

"As I’ll ever be," I replied, tightening my grip on my laptop case.

He opened the door, and there he was, Min Yoongi, sitting in front of a massive console, his back to us.

He turned at the sound of the door, his expression neutral as he stood to greet us. His gaze swept over Minji first, then landed on me. For a moment, he said nothing, his sharp eyes scanning me from head to toe. Then he frowned, looking at Jihoon.

"This is K?" he asked, his tone sceptical.

Jihoon winced. "Uh, yeah. This is K."

Yoongi’s frown deepened as he crossed his arms. "You’re joking, right?"

I stepped forward, meeting his gaze head-on. "Last time I checked, I’m not a joke."

His eyes narrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "You’re not what I expected."

"Good," I said, setting my laptop on the table. "Let’s get started." Yoongi smirked, leaning against the edge of the console, arms crossed. His sharp gaze never left me as he added, "I have to say, your previous work didn’t exactly… scream ‘feminine touch.’ If anything, I thought you’d walk in here with a beard and flannel shirt."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

Jihoon coughed awkwardly, stepping back as if distancing himself from Yoongi’s comment. Minji shot him a warning look, but I could see the corners of her mouth twitching like she was trying not to laugh.

Yoongi raised a hand, his smirk widening. "No offense. I’m just saying your music has this raw, almost aggressive energy. It’s impressive. I just didn’t picture..." He motioned vaguely toward me. "...this."

Minji quickly interjected, "Alright, we’ll leave you two to it. Jihoon and I have some things to take care of."

"Wait—" I started, but Minji grabbed Jihoon by the sleeve and dragged him toward the door.

"You’ll be fine," she called over her shoulder. "Just... play nice, both of you."

The door shut with a soft click, and I was left staring at Yoongi, who looked far too amused for my liking.

"Let me guess," I said, narrowing my eyes. "You think this whole thing is a waste of time, right? That I’m here because someone in your company thought you needed ‘help.’"

He shrugged, moving to his chair and spinning it lazily before sitting down. "Help isn’t the word I’d use. But yeah, I wasn’t exactly thrilled about this arrangement."

"Trust me," I said flatly, "neither was I."

That earned a low chuckle from him. "At least we’re on the same page."

I took a deep breath, trying to keep my irritation in check. I’d dealt with condescending colleagues before, but Yoongi’s nonchalant attitude was already grating on my nerves. How different was he from the Yoongi I’d seen in interviews or fan videos? This guy wasn’t the soft-spoken, thoughtful artist fans adored. He was sharp, blunt, and entirely too smug.

"Let’s just get to work," I said, pulling out my laptop and external drive. "You have lyrics, right? Show me what you’ve got."

Yoongi grabbed a notebook from the desk and slid it across the table. "Here. Three tracks I’m stuck on. The lyrics are solid, but I can’t find the right sound to match them."

I flipped through the pages, skimming the lines. His handwriting was neat but compact, and the lyrics were, as expected, incredible. Emotionally raw, introspective, and layered with meaning. They demanded a melody that could do them justice.

"What’s the vibe you’re going for?" I asked, keeping my tone professional.

Yoongi tapped his fingers on the desk, his expression thoughtful. "Something atmospheric. A mix of minimalistic and haunting, but with enough depth to make it feel powerful. Think piano-driven but layered with electronic textures. I want it to hit hard emotionally but not overwhelm the lyrics."

I nodded, already forming ideas in my head. "Okay, let’s try something."

Opening my laptop, I connected it to the studio’s system and pulled up my digital audio workstation. I started layering a simple chord progression on the piano, experimenting with minor chords to create the moody tone he wanted. Yoongi watched silently for a moment before leaning forward. "No, that’s too soft. It needs more tension."

I adjusted the progression, adding a dissonant note to the second chord. "Better?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Now bring in a low synth pad to fill it out."

I worked quickly, adding the synth and tweaking the sound to give it a subtle pulse. The room filled with the beginnings of a melody, and for a moment, the tension between us eased as we both focused on the music.

"Not bad," Yoongi muttered, almost to himself. "But it still feels... flat."

I bit back a retort, reminding myself that this was his music. "What do you suggest?"

He leaned back, closing his eyes as he listened. "The transition between the first and second chords needs more weight. Maybe a reversed sample or a swell to build anticipation."

I nodded, grabbing a sample from my library and reversing it. After a few adjustments, I played it back. The swell added a subtle but impactful build to the transition.

Yoongi opened his eyes and smiled faintly. "That’s better."

"Glad I could meet your standards," I said dryly.

He chuckled again, the sound low and almost teasing. "Relax. I’m not here to make this harder than it has to be."

"Could’ve fooled me," I muttered under my breath, earning another amused glance from him.

Despite his initial scepticism, Yoongi was a perfectionist, and that part of him was something I could respect. He pushed for the smallest details, catching nuances that most producers might overlook. But he also didn’t hold back his opinions, which made working with him both frustrating and oddly invigorating.

As the hours passed, we fell into a rhythm. He’d point out what wasn’t working, I’d offer a solution, and we’d tweak it until we found something we both liked. By the time we wrapped up for the day, we’d made significant progress on the first track. The rough demo already had a haunting, melancholic energy that complemented his lyrics perfectly. Yoongi leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "Not bad for our first day."

"Let’s hope tomorrow’s just as productive," I said, saving the project file.

He smirked, standing up and grabbing his notebook. "We’ll see. You’re not as bad as I thought you’d be."

"Gee, thanks," I said, rolling my eyes. "You’re a real charmer."

"Only when I want to be," he shot back, heading for the door.

As he left, I let out a long breath, leaning back in my chair. Working with him was exhausting, but I couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling under my frustration. For all his arrogance, Yoongi was undeniably talented, and I found myself looking forward to the challenge of working with him. *** The next morning, Yoongi and I sat in the studio reviewing the progress from the day before. The demo played softly in the background, and while it sounded promising, there were a few sections that felt off.

"We need to rework this transition," Yoongi said, pointing at the waveform on the screen. "It’s too abrupt. It needs more build-up."

I nodded, fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Agreed. Maybe adding a soft vocal sample or layering the synth more would smooth it out."

"Try it," he said, leaning back in his chair with a thoughtful expression.

As I adjusted the track, Yoongi’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, frowned, and stood up. "I need to take this. Keep working. I’ll be back."

He left the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind him. I sighed and refocused on the track, tweaking the layers as the melody slowly started to evolve. But after about twenty minutes, I decided to take a break. My coffee from earlier had caught up with me, and I needed to find the bathroom.

Stepping into the hallway, I started down the corridor when I heard Yoongi’s voice from around the corner. I paused, not wanting to interrupt, but something about his tone made me linger.

"...So yeah, Jihoon, I didn’t know she was a girl," he was saying.

I froze, my pulse quickening.

"I mean, if I’d known that was the case, maybe I would’ve pushed back harder at the beginning. Told them I didn’t need the help. She’s okay and talented, sure, but there are other producers out there who could’ve done this just as well."

My stomach twisted. Was that really what he thought of me? I took a step back, the faint creak of my shoe on the floor startling me. Afraid he might notice, I turned and quickly walked the other way, heading toward the nearest staircase to find another bathroom. I didn’t want to hear anything else.

After finally finding a bathroom and giving myself a moment to cool down, I headed back to the studio. I was determined not to let Yoongi know I’d overheard him, but my annoyance simmered beneath the surface. When I stepped back into the room, he was already there, seated casually at the console like he hadn’t just dismissed my abilities a few minutes ago.

"Done with your break?" he asked, not looking up as he scrolled through the project file.

"Yeah," I replied shortly, taking my seat across from him.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing at me briefly. "You okay? You sound... off."

"Just tired," I said, forcing a neutral tone.

He didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t press the issue. "Alright. Let’s pick up where we left off."

We dove back into the work, but my responses to his suggestions were clipped.

"That transition is too smooth," he said at one point. "It needs more contrast."

"Fine," I replied curtly, adjusting the settings without looking at him.

A few minutes later, he frowned at another section. "This part feels like it’s missing something. Maybe we should—"

"Add another layer?" I interrupted. "I know. Already on it."

Yoongi blinked at me, surprised by my tone. "What’s with the attitude?"

"Nothing," I said quickly, not meeting his gaze.

"Doesn’t seem like nothing," he said, leaning back in his chair. "If you’ve got something to say, just say it."

I clenched my jaw, my fingers tightening around the mouse. "I don’t have anything to say, Yoongi. Let’s just get this done, okay?"

His eyes narrowed slightly, and for a moment, I thought he might push further. But then he shrugged, turning back to the monitor. "Whatever you say."

The tension in the room was palpable, and it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

"Look," he said after a long silence, his voice softer but still firm, "if something’s bothering you, it’s better to air it out now. We’re supposed to be a team, remember?"

I laughed humourlessly. "Team? Right."

Yoongi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Okay, what did I do? You were fine this morning, and now you’re acting like I kicked your dog."

I hesitated, torn between calling him out and keeping what I’d heard to myself. In the end, I shook my head. "It’s nothing. Let’s just focus on the music."

He didn’t look convinced, but he let it drop, his focus returning to the track. For the rest of the session, I kept my replies short, my tone professional but distant. If he noticed, he didn’t comment again. But as I left the studio that evening, I couldn’t shake the sting of his words. He might think I was talented, but apparently, that wasn’t enough.

*** Sunday was a rare blessing, my day off, a chance to breathe away from the suffocating confines of the studio and Min Yoongi. The contract was clear: three months to collaborate on three tracks for his upcoming album. That deadline loomed over every interaction, and yet, the past week had felt like a year.

I sat across from Minji at our favourite café, the smell of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the faint hum of chatter around us. She was nursing her caramel latte, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern.

"Okay, spill," she said, leaning forward. "How’s it going with Yoongi? Are you two getting along?"

I scoffed, stirring my drink with unnecessary aggression. "Getting along? Not even close. He’s impossible."

Minji raised an eyebrow. "Impossible how? Isn’t he just... quiet and focused?"

"Quiet? Sure. Focused? Definitely. But it’s like working with a brick wall that also has an opinion on everything. He’s a perfectionist to the point where it’s unbearable. We made progress on a track, a full week’s worth of progress, and on Friday, he decided he didn’t like it and scrapped the whole thing. We’re starting from scratch tomorrow."

Her eyes widened. "He threw it all away? After a week? Was it really that bad?"

I shook my head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "No, it wasn’t bad. It was good, really good, actually. But it wasn’t perfect by his standards. He nit-picks every little thing, and don’t even get me started on his work ethic. The man doesn’t stop. I get it, he’s Yoongi, he’s supposed to be this genius producer or whatever. But does he have to be so infuriating?"

Minji smiled sympathetically, sipping her latte. "Well, you knew this wasn’t going to be easy. He’s got a reputation for a reason. But isn’t it a good challenge? You’re working with one of the best."

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. "I thought it would be different, you know? I had this idea of him in my head. This brilliant, creative artist who would respect me as a collaborator. Instead, he’s... cold, demanding, and so stubborn."

Minji chuckled. "Sounds like he’s met his match."

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Oh, please. If he’s met his match, he doesn’t realize it. He probably just sees me as another producer he has to tolerate."

"That’s not true," Minji said, shaking her head. "You’re talented, Y/N. He’ll see it eventually."

I sighed, taking a long sip of my coffee. "I hope so, because right now, it feels like we’re just butting heads. He questions everything I do. And don’t even get me started on his attitude. He’s so... smug sometimes."

"Smug how?"

"Like—ugh!" I gestured vaguely, trying to find the words. "It’s the way he looks at me, like he’s constantly judging whether I’m good enough to be there. He doesn’t say it outright, but I can tell he’s thinking it. And it drives me insane."

Minji laughed, leaning back in her chair. "You’ve got it bad, huh?"

"Bad?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Bad as in annoyed? Yes. Bad as in anything else? Absolutely not."

"Sure," she said, her tone teasing.

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "You’re impossible."

Minji grinned, nudging my arm. "You know, maybe this is good for you. A little friction can spark creativity. And who knows? Maybe he’s just testing you."

"Testing me?" I repeated, giving her a sceptical look.

"Yeah. Like, seeing how far you’re willing to push yourself. Maybe he’s trying to figure you out."

"Or maybe he’s just a workaholic control freak," I muttered.

Minji laughed, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. Point taken. But don’t let him get under your skin too much. You’ve got this, Y/N. And who knows? By the end of three months, maybe you’ll even like him."

I snorted. "Not a chance."

But as much as I hated to admit it, her words stuck with me.

*** The following week was no easier than the first. Yoongi and I worked tirelessly in the studio, bouncing ideas off each other, experimenting with melodies, and layering sounds. For every step forward, there seemed to be two steps back.

"This bassline isn’t strong enough," Yoongi said on Tuesday, frowning at the speakers.

"I think it works," I argued. "It’s subtle, but it adds depth to the track."

"Subtle isn’t what we’re going for," he countered.

"And what are we going for, exactly?" I asked, crossing my arms.

He gave me a look, the corner of his mouth twitching like he was holding back a smirk. "Something better than this."

I wanted to throw my notebook at him.

By Wednesday, we’d managed to salvage some of the earlier work, only for Yoongi to suggest another round of revisions.

"You’re kidding," I said, staring at him.

"Do I look like I’m kidding?" he replied, completely serious.

"Do you ever smile?" I shot back.

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

The tension between us was constant, a tug-of-war where neither of us was willing to back down. And yet, beneath the frustration, there was a strange kind of rhythm to our interactions. As much as I disliked him, I couldn’t deny that he was brilliant. Watching him work was like witnessing a master at his craft, every decision precise, every movement deliberate. But that didn’t mean I liked him. And I certainly wasn’t going to let him know just how much I respected his talent.

*** The afternoon sun filtered through the blinds of the studio, casting soft golden stripes across the equipment. I was at the workstation, tweaking some samples on my laptop while Yoongi stepped out for a meeting, or whatever it was he disappeared to.

The door opened suddenly, and I assumed it was him coming back. "Did you finally decide to—"

I froze mid-sentence as someone entirely different walked in. The man was tall, with a warm smile and an unmistakable energy that lit up the room. His eyes scanned the studio until they landed on me, his confusion immediately evident.

"Uh… hi?" he said, his smile faltering slightly. "I’m looking for Yoongi. Did I walk into the wrong room? I am pretty sure this is the right one though..." he started scratching the top of his head, clearly confused.

"No, this is the right place," I replied, standing awkwardly. "He just stepped out for a bit."

His eyebrows shot up, and he pointed at me with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "Wait—who are you? Why is there… a girl in here?"

I frowned, crossing my arms. "What’s that supposed to mean? Girls aren’t allowed in studios now?"

His hands shot up defensively, and he chuckled nervously. "No, no! That’s not what I meant! It’s just… Yoongi didn’t mention working with someone new today. And you’re clearly not Jihoon."

"Clearly," I said dryly.

He laughed again, but this time it sounded more genuine. "Okay, let me start over. I’m Hoseok, but you probably know me as J-Hope."

Ah, then it clicked , of course it was J-Hope. His sunny demeanour didn’t match the grumpy energy Yoongi radiated, though, which was a refreshing change.

"Nice to meet you," I said, offering a polite nod. "I’m Y/N."

Hoseok’s expression didn’t change for a moment as if he were trying to process something. Then he grinned, leaning slightly closer like he’d just discovered something exciting.

"Wait a second," he said, his tone playfully suspicious. "I’m not even supposed to be here, you know. I heard Yoongi was working with the producer K who doesn’t even disclose their identity, but I just couldn’t resist. I love the music that K has done, so I had to come meet him. Will sign an NDA and everything."

I felt a twinge of amusement at his enthusiasm but kept my expression neutral. Something told me it was okay for him to know. "Well, congratulations. You just met… him."

Hoseok blinked, and then his jaw dropped dramatically as he pointed at me. "No way!"

"Way," I said, trying not to laugh.

His hand flew to his chest as if he were clutching imaginary pearls. "That’s why Yoongi didn’t even say anything when I begged for details! He just said, ‘There’s an NDA in place’ and refused to elaborate."

"Pretty much," I replied with a shrug.

Hoseok stared at me for a beat longer before a wide grin spread across his face. "You’re good. Like, really good. I’ve been following your work, but I never would’ve guessed you were… Well, you!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Is that a compliment or a subtle way of saying I don’t look the part?"

"No, no, definitely a compliment," he said quickly, waving his hands. "It’s just… Yoongi’s been extra secretive about this whole thing. And now I see why."

"Yeah, well," I said, gesturing vaguely around the room, "he’s not exactly a ray of sunshine to work with."

Hoseok laughed loudly, his shoulders shaking. "Trust me, I know. But if you’re still here, that means you’re tougher than most. Or really patient."

"Or both," I muttered under my breath.

Hoseok’s grin widened, and he gave me a mock salute. "Well, K—er, Y/N—it’s an honor to meet you. Seriously. Your work speaks for itself."

He continued, a small smile playing on his lips. "Trust me, when I say this, Yoongi wouldn’t work with you if you weren’t talented. He’s picky about these things. So if he’s giving you a hard time, it’s probably because he knows you’re good enough to keep up with him."

I blinked, caught off guard by the compliment. "That’s… nice of you to say."

"Just calling it like I see it," he said with a shrug.

Before I could respond, the door opened again, and Yoongi walked in. His eyes flicked between me and Hoseok, his expression unreadable.

"What are you doing here?" he asked Hoseok, his tone laced with mild irritation.

Hoseok grinned, completely unfazed. "Came by to check on you, of course. But I see you’re in good hands."

Yoongi’s gaze shifted to me, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—annoyance? Curiosity? It was hard to tell.

"Don’t you have your own schedule to worry about?" Yoongi asked, walking over to his desk.

"I’m on a break," Hoseok replied cheerfully. "And besides, I wanted to meet your mystery producer. You could’ve mentioned she’s not a guy, by the way."

Yoongi’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on the stack of notes in front of him, clearly dismissing the conversation.

"Well," Hoseok said, standing up and stretching, "I’ll leave you two to it. Nice meeting you, Y/N."

"Nice meeting you too," I said, watching as he strolled out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Yoongi and me alone again.

"You’ve been busy making friends," he said, not looking up from his papers.

"Is that a problem?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Just don’t let him distract you. We’ve got work to do."

"Wouldn’t dream of it," I said, turning back to my laptop with a hint of sarcasm.

Yoongi didn’t push further, but I could feel his gaze linger on me for a moment before he returned to his papers. But as I settled back into the project, I couldn’t help but think about what Hoseok had said. Maybe Yoongi’s high standards weren’t a bad thing. Maybe, just maybe, they were proof that he saw something in me worth pushing for. *** The next day, I walked into the studio, ready to dive into the work, but there was something off in the air. Yoongi was sitting at his desk, staring at his screen, tapping his pen rhythmically on the surface. It was a subtle change, but it didn’t escape me, he wasn’t his usual, calm and collected self.

I sat down at my workstation, glancing over at him. He was clearly deep in thought, but there was an edge to his silence today that felt... different. More charged. I wondered if it had anything to do with yesterday’s interaction with Hoseok. Yoongi didn’t acknowledge my arrival, which was typical, but today his lack of response felt unusually pointed. After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke without looking up.

“Didn’t you want your identity a secret?” His voice was cold, almost accusatory.

I froze.

“Excuse me?” I asked, trying to hide the annoyance creeping up my neck.

“Talking to Hoseok yesterday," he continued, now looking at me with an unreadable expression. "The whole 'I can’t reveal my identity' thing. So why are you suddenly so comfortable with him knowing?"

I felt a flash of irritation surge through me, but I kept my voice level.

“I never said I was ‘comfortable’ with it,” I replied. “I’m just doing my job. And I don’t owe you an explanation about my personal decisions”.

He narrowed his eyes, as if trying to read between the lines, but said nothing more. The tension hung heavy in the room as he returned to his screen, though his fingers seemed to hesitate over the keys. I couldn’t help but scoff under my breath. What did he think? That I just decided to throw away years of carefully cultivated anonymity for fun? Minji had already alerted me that J-hope had also signed the NDA. I glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Let’s just get to work,” I said, my tone clipped, trying to deflect from the awkwardness of his question. “You said you wanted to tweak the second verse.”

“Yeah," he muttered, still not meeting my gaze, "but now I’m wondering if I even want to keep collaborating with someone who can’t keep things private.”

There it was again. That little jab. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. I gritted my teeth, my patience thinning.

“I’ve been working in this industry for years, Yoongi,” I said, fighting to keep my composure. “Long before this project. I know what’s at stake. Don’t lecture me about privacy.”

He finally glanced up, his eyes meeting mine. There was a flicker of something, was it guilt? But he quickly masked it with his usual indifference.

“Right,” he said, standing up and walking toward the soundboard. “Let’s get this over with.”

The rest of the session passed with both of us avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Despite the friction, we did manage to make some progress. I’d never admit it aloud, but Yoongi was damn good at what he did. Even when he was being insufferable. After a while, he took a deep breath, rubbing his temples like he was trying to stave off a headache.

“You’re not what I thought you’d be,” he muttered, half to himself.

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what did you expect?”

He gave me a sideways glance, not quite meeting my eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Maybe someone more... calculated. Or quieter.”

“Is that so?” I shot back, my voice laced with sarcasm. “Because I thought you liked chaos in your music.”

He smirked at that, but the tension still lingered between us, thick and unresolved.

As the day wore on, we continued to push through, though it was clear neither of us was really in the mood for any small talk or the usual banter. The chemistry that had started to form in previous days was gone, replaced by an almost uncomfortable distance. I finally stood up to stretch, my back aching from sitting for so long. Yoongi glanced at me, his expression unreadable.

“You’re leaving?” he asked, voice cool, as though he didn’t care.

“Yeah. I’m going to grab something to eat,” I replied curtly, gathering my things.

Halfway through gathering my things, for a split second, I thought I saw Yoongi open his mouth as if he was about to say something. Maybe it was the exhaustion on his face or just the weird tension between us, but for a brief second, I thought, just maybe, he was going to offer to grab something to eat with me. Instead, he just turned away, his back to me as he focused on his work. I blinked, swallowing the unexpected disappointment that bubbled up. What was I even expecting? It wasn’t like we were friends. Shaking off the weird feeling, I grabbed my bag and left the studio, the door clicking shut behind me.

*** Once I got to the company’s cafeteria, I was finally able to relax. The soft buzz of voices and clinking silverware was a welcome break from the tension in the studio. I grabbed a tray and found a seat by the window, trying my best to shove aside any thoughts of Yoongi.

He was a talented producer, no doubt, but the way he treated me was... irritating. I shouldn’t have expected anything different. This was business, not friendship, and I had no time to be distracted by someone who probably saw me as just another collaborator, nothing more.

I opened my notebook and jotted down a few ideas for the next two songs we still needed to work on. The first song was nearly done, but we’d been working on it for two weeks, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It was slow progress, and I could already feel the deadline creeping closer.

I was so deep in thought, sketching out some melodies, that I didn’t notice Hoseok standing in front of me until he waved his hand in front of my face.

“Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow, looking amused.

I jumped a little, then glanced up at him. “Oh, hey, Hoseok. Didn’t see you there.”

He slid into the seat across from me, still grinning like he knew something I didn’t. Hoseok leaned back in his chair, his eyes scanning me curiously. “So, how’s it going? He’s not making it too hard for you, is he?”

I almost snorted at the question. “Hard? That’s an understatement. But yeah, I’m surviving. We’re getting somewhere.”

He raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to get along with Yoongi so easily. He’s a bit... stubborn, right?”

I shrugged, taking a bite of my food to avoid answering too directly.

“You’d be surprised what I can tolerate,” I said, feeling defensive for some reason.

Hoseok tilted his head, his gaze sharp. “I guess so. But you know, it’s funny.”

I looked up from my food, confused. “What’s funny?”

Hoseok smirked. “I didn’t think you’d be the type to be such a fan of Yoongi’s music.”

I blinked, unsure if I heard him right. “What do you mean?”

Hoseok just pointed at my phone on the table, where I’d left it open to a playlist of Yoongi’s songs.

I froze, then quickly reached to hide it, but it was too late. Hoseok’s grin widened.

“You know, I really didn’t expect that,” he said, leaning in a little closer, his tone teasing. “I mean, I always knew Yoongi’s music was good, but seeing you listen to it like that... I got to admit, I’m curious what you think of it.”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “I’m just... trying to learn more about him, okay? It’s part of the job.”

“Sure, sure,” Hoseok said, still grinning. “I mean, I get it. He’s got a certain... appeal. But hey, don’t let it distract you too much. He’s not the easiest person to get close to.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I muttered, returning to my food, trying to act like I wasn’t the least bit fazed.

Hoseok studied me for a moment, then leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression.

“Well, if you want my advice...” He grinned again, his eyes mischievous. “Try not to fall for the music and the man, yeah?”

I choked slightly on my food, coughing. “What?!”

Hoseok laughed, clearly enjoying my reaction. “I’m just saying, Y/N, don’t get too swept up in it all. Yoongi’s a complicated guy. He’s not someone who’ll make things easy.”

I scowled, but there was a small part of me that couldn’t help but appreciate Hoseok’s frankness. “I’m not falling for anything, Hoseok. I’m just here to do my job.”

Hoseok just winked and stood up. “Whatever you say. But if you do need to talk about him... I’m always around.”

Hoseok paused, about to turn around before he shot me a sly grin over his shoulder. “Actually… I don’t know if you’re comfortable with all this yet, so you don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’m known for throwing some pretty epic parties around here,” he said, his tone playful. “I’m throwing one at the company soon, gathering the staff, and some of the BTS members will be there too.”

I raised an eyebrow, confused at where this was going. “A party?”

“Yeah, and I can introduce you as the ‘Assistant of Producer K,’ so you won’t have to expose your identity if you’re worried about that. It’ll be low-key, just a way for you to get used to the vibe here. Who knows? You might even get a chance to chat with Yoongi... outside of the studio.” He smirked, his gaze lingering on me as if he could see through the walls I’d built up. “You can bring a plus-one too, if you want.”

It was tempting, especially with the idea of getting out of this studio for a while. Plus, Hoseok seemed genuine, and I didn’t want to just keep hiding away in my little corner of the world.

Still, I was cautious. This wasn’t my scene, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to step into the spotlight, especially if it meant running into Yoongi in a setting like that. The thought of it made my stomach flip.

“I’ll think about it,” I said, trying to sound neutral.

Hoseok grinned, clearly satisfied with my answer. “Take your time. You know where to find me if you decide.”

With that, he left, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I sat there for a moment, turning the invitation over in my head. A party? An opportunity to get used to the vibes, meet people, and possibly see Yoongi in a completely different light. It could be good for me to step out of my shell, get out of my head for a bit. But... was I ready for that?

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts aside for now. There was no need to make decisions in a rush. I’d think about it later. I finished eating in silence, trying to push all the thoughts about Hoseok’s offer out of my head. It wasn’t like me to just drop everything for a party, but something about the idea of getting out of the studio, meeting people, and maybe getting a chance to see Yoongi in a less... tense environment intrigued me. But I couldn’t focus on that now.

I stood up, pushing my tray toward the dirty dish bin, and made my way back to the studio. As I walked through the hallway, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of déjà vu. It was like I’d just left, but already it felt like I’d been away too long. The faint hum of the studio's equipment reached my ears before I even stepped through the door.

When I entered, the first thing I noticed was Yoongi, still at his spot, but now with a bowl of noodles in front of him. The faint smell of the broth hit me, and I couldn't help but cringe. Didn’t he ever leave this place?

Yoongi looked up from his meal, barely acknowledging me as I entered. "You’re back," he muttered, his voice a little muffled by a mouthful of noodles.

"Yeah," I said, letting the door close behind me. "Still working, I see."

“Of course,” he replied, the tone in his voice sounding almost too casual. "The faster we finish this, the sooner we can move on to the next track."

I dropped my bag onto the table and pulled my chair out. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? You keep rushing through everything, thinking you can just ‘move on’ from one song to the next. But this isn’t a race, Yoongi.”

He looked at me sharply, his brows furrowing. "I'm not rushing anything. We need to get this done before the deadline, and you can’t expect me to just waste time on something that isn’t working."

I stared at him, my patience thinning. “You’re not even open to trying something new. Every idea I suggest gets shot down, but you’re so attached to this ‘perfect’ vision of yours. Well, guess what? Perfect doesn’t exist.”

Yoongi set his bowl down, the chopsticks clinking against the edge. “So what, you think I’m not doing my best?” His eyes narrowed, and the room suddenly felt smaller. “You think I don’t care about the quality?”

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. “It’s not about that, Yoongi. You’re too set in your ways. You think your way is the only way, but this is a collaboration. I can’t just keep following your orders. I’m not your assistant.”

He let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his forehead, like I was the last thing he needed in his life right now. "I never said you were my assistant."

“Then stop treating me like one,” I snapped, feeling my annoyance rise. "I’m not here just to cater to your ideas. If we’re working together, we need to meet in the middle."

The silence stretched between us for a few long moments. Then Yoongi glanced away, exhaling sharply as if trying to push back his own frustration. "Fine," he muttered. "We’ll figure it out. But don’t expect everything to happen overnight."

“I don’t,” I replied dryly. "But I expect respect, which is something you seem to be lacking in."

He didn’t answer right away, just went back to staring at his noodles. For a moment, I thought it might be best to just call it a day and leave, but something about the lingering tension kept me rooted to the spot.

"By the way," I said, the words leaving my mouth before I could second-guess myself. "Hoseok invited me to a party. At the company. I’m thinking about going."

Yoongi’s head snapped up at the mention of Hoseok’s name, and I caught the flash of something in his eyes—a mix of surprise, confusion. It was hard to tell. But whatever it was, it was there, even if he quickly masked it with a smirk.

“Hoseok?” he repeated, almost like he couldn’t believe it. “What’s he got to do with you going to a party?”

"I don’t know," I said, shrugging. "Maybe I’ll go. I might need a break from the studio. Get out of here for a bit. And who knows? It might be nice to talk to someone who isn’t you."

Yoongi didn’t seem pleased with that, but he said nothing. Instead, he shifted in his chair and looked at the screen in front of him, ignoring me completely.

“You’re really not going to let this go, are you?” he asked, his voice low.

“I don’t know,” I replied, leaning forward on my elbows. “You’ve been pretty hard to work with lately. Maybe a break is exactly what I need.”

Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask you not to take a break. I’m just... trying to get this done.”

I tilted my head, studying him for a moment. "Fine. Just let me know when you’re ready to actually collaborate. You can stop being so defensive for two seconds."

There was another tense silence before I stood up to leave the room. But as I reached for the door, something inside me—maybe frustration, maybe curiosity—made me turn back.

“By the way,” I said, walking back to Yoongi’s desk. “Could you give me Hoseok’s number? I might need it for the party.”

Yoongi froze for a second, his fingers stopping mid-air as if I’d just thrown him off balance. His eyes narrowed, and for a second, he didn’t say anything.

"Why would you need that?" he finally asked, voice tight.

"Because I need to respond to him if I am showing up or not," I replied, my tone sharp.

Yoongi glared at me but didn’t say anything else, a muscle in his jaw twitching. After a beat, he reluctantly scribbled something down on a piece of paper and slid it toward me. “Here. But if you think I’m going to chase you to the party... you’re wrong.”

I took the paper, glancing at it before shoving it into my pocket. “Thanks. I’ll make sure not to expect you there.”

Without another word, I turned and left, my mind buzzing with more questions than answers. What was going on with Yoongi? And, most importantly... Why did his attitude bother me more than I cared to admit? *** I grabbed my phone, fingers hovering over the screen before I hit send. The past few days had been a blur of studio time and late-night meals. I needed something to break the routine. So, Thursday evening I finally decided to take Hoseok up on his offer.

Y/N: Hey Hoseok, it's Y/N! I just wanted to double-check the party details again. You said it’s at the company building, right? What time should I be there?

The response was almost immediate, Hoseok’s usual energy practically jumping out of the screen.

Hoseok: Yep! It’s at the company building. We’ll start around 7 PM, but feel free to come anytime after that. You know how these things go. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re introduced properly as “Prod K’s assistant” so no one will know who you really are. It’ll be low-key, promise!

I let out a relieved sigh. That sounded like exactly what I needed … low-key, no expectations, just a chance to escape the studio for a bit.

Y/N: Thanks, that sounds perfect. I’ll be there. Can I bring my friend Minji? She’d love to come.

Hoseok: Of course! Bring whoever you want. It’s all about having a good time. I’m looking forward to seeing you there!

I grinned at the message, feeling a little lighter. At least for one night, I could just focus on having fun and not worry about my identity or working with Yoongi.

Putting my phone down, I leaned back in my chair, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. The whole idea of going to a party sounded so... normal, so different from the chaos I had been drowning in lately. The studio, Yoongi’s sharp comments, and the constant pressure to produce. Maybe this would be a good chance to just... breathe.

I glanced over at the calendar on my desk, mentally counting the days. The next day, I texted Minji.

Y/N: Hey, I’m going to that party Hoseok invited me to on Sunday. Want to come with me?

Minji: YES YES YES YES. This is going to be so fun! Who else is going?

Y/N: Apparently, all the BTS members will be there too.

Minji: Wait, like ALL of them? Are you serious? We need to plan our outfits then.

Y/N: Just don’t go overboard, okay? Let’s keep it chill.

Minji: You know I can't do “chill” when it comes to parties!

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. Minji was always up for an adventure. I knew she’d be bouncing off the walls all weekend in preparation. I didn’t mind though. If anyone could pull me out of my head and get me excited for something, it was her.

When Saturday evening arrived, the studio was buzzing with an unexpected energy. After three weeks of near-constant back-and-forth, I finally felt like we’d made some real progress. The first song was done. It wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as we could get in such a short time, and for the first time in a while, I felt the weight lift off my shoulders.

I glanced at Yoongi, who had been hunched over his computer screen for hours, typing away at the final tweaks. His brow was furrowed in concentration, but when the last beat dropped into place, he sat back in his chair and let out a long, satisfied sigh.

"We did it," he said, turning his head to meet my eyes.

It wasn’t much, but there was a slight spark in his gaze. A hint of pride, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual indifference.

“Yeah, we did,” I said, unable to stop the small smile tugging at my lips. "It’s... good."

Yoongi paused, eyes locked on mine for a moment before a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I guess you don’t completely suck at this after all."

I raised an eyebrow, playing along. "I’m glad to know you’re impressed."

We both laughed softly, the tension that had been hanging between us for weeks finally easing. It was a strange feeling, one I wasn’t used to with him, but I couldn’t deny it. It felt... nice. Like we’d just hit a milestone together.

Yoongi extended his hand, and I hesitated for a split second before I went for it, my palm feeling warmer than usual. Our high-five was awkward, neither of us really knowing how to react. But in that brief moment, I realized how unusual it was for us to share something this... simple.

"Congratulations," I said, nodding toward the screen. "We actually did it."

"Yeah," Yoongi replied, his voice softer than I expected. "I’ll see you on Monday, then. We’ll tackle the next one."

I blinked, taken aback for a second. Monday? Just like that, the professional distance came back. I hadn’t expected him to say that so casually, but I guess it was what we were supposed to do: get the work done, pack up, and move on.

But for some reason, as I sat there in the quiet of the studio, a thought lingered. He’s really not coming to the party, huh?

I glanced over at him, but Yoongi was already packing up his things, seemingly focused on getting out of the studio as quickly as possible. He didn’t even look back at me as he gathered his notes and the leftover snacks we had both been snacking on throughout the day.

I stood up and grabbed my bag, deciding it was better to just let it go. No need to dwell on something that wasn’t going to happen. He was Yoongi, professional, distant Yoongi. He wasn’t someone who would show up to a party for fun.

"Alright," I said, the awkwardness settling back into my chest. "See you Monday, I guess."

Yoongi glanced over at me for a brief moment, nodding. "Yeah. See you."

As I left the studio, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted, but I couldn’t place what. Maybe it was just the relief of finally finishing the first song. Or maybe it was just the weird dynamic between us, the unexpected moments of quiet camaraderie that had popped up over the last few days.

But as I stepped out of the building, I realized how much I was looking forward to the party on Sunday. It was the break I needed. *** Sunday evening came faster than I expected. Minji showed up at my apartment just as I was pulling out a few potential outfits from my closet. She threw her bag on the couch and plopped herself down with a dramatic sigh.

“Finally, a party!” she exclaimed, leaning back and stretching like she’d just run a marathon. “We’ve been cooped up with that brooding genius for weeks. We need this.”

I rolled my eyes, laying a sleek black turtleneck dress over the back of the chair. “It’s not ‘we’. I’m the one stuck with him in the studio.”

Minji snorted. “You say that like I’m not the one dealing with your constant texts complaining about how annoying he is. ‘Minji, he’s impossible. Minji, he’s a perfectionist. Minji, he’s so irritatingly—’”

“Okay, okay,” I interrupted, throwing a pillow at her. “I get it.”

She caught the pillow with a grin. “Admit it, though. You’re starting to like working with him, aren’t you?”

“Like is a strong word,” I muttered, holding up a dark green dress and then discarding it. “We finally finished one song yesterday. That’s it.”

“But you’re not denying it.” She smirked, standing up to rummage through the pile of clothes I’d pulled out. “Ooh, this one’s cute.”

She held up a sequined gold dress, and I shook my head immediately. “Too flashy. I’m not trying to stand out. Just look professional and approachable.”

Minji rolled her eyes. “You know this is a party, right? Not a corporate meeting?”

“Still. I want to keep a low profile,” I said, picking up the black turtleneck dress. It was tight enough to show some curves but modest enough to feel professional, with long sleeves and a hemline that hit just above the knees. “What about this?”

Minji tilted her head, considering. “It’s very you. Chic, understated, mysterious. And Yoongi’s probably going to notice you in it.”

I groaned. “Not everything is about Yoongi!“

Minji raised an eyebrow, smirking as she flopped onto the couch. “Oh, really? If it’s not about Yoongi, then why are you quoting him like he’s living rent-free in your head?”

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms. “Because it’s relevant! When I told him Hoseok invited me, Yoongi literally said, ‘But if you think I’m going to chase you to the party... you’re wrong.’ And yesterday, after we finished the song, he ended with, ‘See you Monday.’” I huffed. “He couldn’t have been clearer about not showing up.”

Minji snorted. “Wow. He really went out of his way to make sure you knew, huh?”

“Exactly.” I tossed the dress onto the bed. “So, can we drop this whole ‘Yoongi might surprise you at the party’ thing? It’s not happening.”

Minji held up her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No Yoongi talk. But honestly, he sounds so extra about it. Like, what’s his deal? You’re the one who didn’t even want to be there with him in the first place.”

“Exactly!” I said again, throwing my hands up. “I don’t even care if he shows up or not. This is supposed to be my break. I just want to go, enjoy the night, and pretend I don’t have deadlines hanging over my head for one evening.”

Minji smirked knowingly but didn’t say anything more as she got up to sift through her own options for the party. After a moment, she held up a red dress with a dramatic neckline and sparkling details. “What about this for me? It screams ‘I’m the fun friend.’”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You don’t need a dress to say that. Everyone already knows.”

***

A little while later, we were both ready. Minji had gone with her glittery red dress, while I stuck to my black turtleneck one.

As we grabbed our things, Minji gave me a playful nudge. “Okay, so, final thoughts: what if Yoongi does show up, despite everything he said?”

I shot her a withering look. “Then I’ll eat my words. But that’s not happening.”

Minji grinned as we headed out the door. “We’ll see.”

*** The energy of the party was already palpable as Minji and I entered the venue. The music was loud enough to drown out any awkward thoughts, and the lighting cast a warm, celebratory glow. Before we could get our bearings, a familiar figure spotted us and made his way over with an enthusiastic wave.

“Welcome, welcome!” Hoseok beamed, his smile as bright as the room itself. “You made it! I was starting to think you’d ditch last minute.”

Minji laughed. “Not with you hosting, J-hope. She couldn’t say no.”

I shot her a quick glare but turned to Hoseok with a polite smile. “Thanks for inviting us.”

As we exchanged pleasantries, a small group approached him, each handing over neatly wrapped gifts or gift bags.

“Happy birthday, Hobi!” one of them exclaimed, pulling him into a quick hug before leaving the gift with him.

I blinked, taken aback. “Wait... birthday?” I turned to Hoseok, brows furrowed. “Is this... your birthday party?”

Hoseok gave me a sheepish grin. “Well, yeah. Kind of.”

I stared at him, stunned. “You didn’t tell me it was your birthday!”

“Of course, I didn’t,” he replied, laughing. “If I told you, you wouldn’t have come. Admit it!”

I opened my mouth to protest, then paused, realizing he wasn’t entirely wrong. “…Okay, fair. But now I feel terrible. I didn’t bring you anything.”

He waved it off with a casual flick of his hand. “Don’t even worry about it. Your presence is enough of a gift.”

Minji rolled her eyes playfully. “Wow, smooth.”

I ignored her, offering Hoseok a tentative smile. “Well, if that’s the case, I owe you dinner. My treat. Birthday special.”

Hoseok’s grin widened, and he gave me a mock bow. “I’ll hold you to that.” As the party carried on, my mind wandered, unbidden, to Yoongi. If it was Hoseok’s birthday, then surely Yoongi would be here, right? They were bandmates, practically brothers. Despite everything he’d said, it felt impossible that he wouldn’t show up to celebrate.

Right?

Hoseok, catching my distracted expression, nudged me lightly. “Come on, let me introduce you to the guys.”

As Hoseok led me through the crowd, I tried to shake off the lingering thoughts about Yoongi. I couldn’t help myself, though; the idea that he wasn’t here, despite everything, gnawed at me. Was he really just going to stay out of sight, like he’d said? Or had something else kept him away?

"Hey, over here," Hoseok called, his voice cutting through my thoughts as he pulled me toward the others. "Everyone, this is Y/N and Minji, the assistant and the manager of Producer K!"

The guys all turned to look, some with grins on their faces, others with more curious expressions. I gave a small wave, trying to maintain the composure I knew I needed for moments like this. Being around people like them—BTS—was something I wasn’t used to, but I was starting to adjust, or at least, I hoped I was.

"Y/N and Minji, huh? Nice to meet you," Jimin said first, flashing me a grin that lit up his whole face. "Hoseok's always talking about Producer K’s work. You must also be a pretty big deal if you’re working with him."

"Yeah, I've heard about his skills," Taehyung added, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Nice to meet some of the brains behind the scenes." He gave a slight bow, which I returned awkwardly.

"We've been hearing a lot about you guys," Namjoon said, his deep voice steady and reassuring. "It's nice to finally put a face to the names."

"Thanks," I replied, trying to keep the mood light. "We just do our part in the background."

They all nodded, seeming satisfied with my answer. But it was clear that Hoseok’s introduction had piqued their interest, and the attention felt overwhelming. I quickly shifted my gaze to see if Yoongi had come in yet, but the crowd was thick, and I didn’t spot him immediately.

"Minji," I whispered, trying to keep my voice low, "Do you think Yoongi’s coming?"

Minji raised an eyebrow. "Why? Are you hoping he does?"

I shot her a sharp look, but she just laughed, nudging me playfully. "Relax, Y/N. If he’s coming, he’ll show up eventually. For now, just enjoy the party. You’ve earned it."

I sighed and nodded, trying to push the thoughts of Yoongi aside. There was no point in stressing over something I couldn’t control.

As the introductions continued, Hoseok pulled me into a more private corner of the room, away from the group for a moment. "You’re doing great," he said with a genuine smile. "I know this might feel like a lot, but you’re handling it well. The others are just excited to meet you. They’ve heard a lot about producer K."

"Thanks," I replied, a little surprised at his sudden encouragement. "I’m just trying to keep a low profile, honestly."

"Yeah, I get it," Hoseok nodded knowingly. "You know, though, if you want to meet some more people, I can introduce you around. You don’t have to worry about your identity being exposed here. "

I just nodded, grateful for his understanding. But part of me was still wondering, was Yoongi going to show up? Or had I been right all along? Was he truly not interested in stepping outside of the studio for something like this?

At that moment, Jungkook stepped over to join us. "What’s up, guys?" he said with a smile.

Hoseok grinned and gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, you! This is Y/N, Producer K’s assistant. You’ve heard a lot about her, right?"

Jungkook looked at me, his expression slightly puzzled at first before breaking into a smile. "Ah, yeah, I’ve heard a little. Nice to meet you, Y/N." He gave a casual wave, but there was a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

"Nice to meet you too," I replied with a slight smile.

Jungkook seemed to sense the tension in the air, glancing between Hoseok and me. "So, Hyung, who else did you invite?"

Hoseok grinned, looking around the room. "A lot more people, but ah, yes, Y/N—the only member you haven’t met yet is Jin. He’s in the military, so it’s just the rest of us holding down the fort tonight."

I nodded, trying to mask my surprise. "Ah, I didn’t realize. That must be tough for you guys."

Hoseok shrugged, but there was a hint of something bittersweet in his eyes. "Yeah, but it is what it is. We’re all proud of him, of course. We just miss him, that’s all."

Jungkook nodded in agreement. "It’s been a while, but we’ll manage. He’ll be back before we know it."

I felt a pang of empathy for them, understanding how difficult it must be to have someone so important absent from events like this. But the conversation quickly shifted as Hoseok directed it back to me.

"So, Y/N, now that you’ve met the guys, are you having fun? No pressure, just curious." He raised an eyebrow, clearly looking for my reaction.

I forced a smile, trying to get out of my own head. "Yeah, it’s been good. Just a little overwhelming."

"Totally understandable," Jungkook said, giving me a reassuring smile. "But don’t worry. It’s just a party. No big deal."

I chuckled softly, grateful for the small bit of comfort. But my thoughts still drifted back to Yoongi. Would he really not show up?

Just then, I spotted Minji on the dance floor, looking like she was having the time of her life. Without a second thought, I nudged Hoseok. "I think I need to join her," I said, already pushing my way through the crowd.

"Go ahead," Hoseok replied with a grin. "I’ll be around if you need anything."

I made my way over to Minji, and we quickly fell into the rhythm of the music, letting the beat carry us away. The drinks were flowing, and before I knew it, the atmosphere shifted into a carefree, almost electric vibe. As more people showed up, the party grew livelier, and from time to time, some of the BTS members would come over and join us on the dance floor. It was fun, it was wild, but... my mind kept drifting back to Yoongi.

Unable to hold it in any longer, I pulled Hoseok aside when I caught him by the bar. "Hey, Hoseok... Where’s Yoongi?"

Hoseok glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, then shrugged. "Oh, he was here earlier, literally before you showed up. Now that you mention it, though, I haven’t seen him since."

I felt a strange mix of disappointment and... relief? I wasn’t sure anymore. Maybe it was better this way, but somehow, a part of me couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing from the night.

Minji and I were having a blast, drink after drink, dance after dance. The music, the energy, everything was a blur of fun. I couldn’t remember the last time I had let myself enjoy the moment so freely, and for a while, it was exactly what I needed. But after a few more songs, I started to feel a little dizzy, the world spinning just slightly out of focus.

"Minji, I’m going to head somewhere quiet for a bit," I said, my voice a little unsteady. "I just need to lay down, get myself together. I’ll be back in a bit, okay?"

She shot me a playful grin, still bouncing to the beat. "Take care of yourself, girl! I’ll be here if you need me!"

With that, I slipped away from the dance floor, trying to stay steady on my feet. I remembered the studio I’d worked for the past weeks had a cosy sofa tucked away in one of its corners. It was the perfect place to rest for a bit until the dizziness passed.

I made my way to the studio, feeling the coolness of the hallway against my skin. The noise of the party seemed to fade as I pushed open the door, the silence of the room a welcome contrast to the chaos outside. I sank onto the sofa, closing my eyes for a few moments, hoping to just let the room settle.

I was only half-aware of how long I’d been there when I heard the door creak open. My eyes fluttered open, and I instantly tensed. Had someone followed me in?

There, standing in the doorway, was Yoongi. He looked surprised to see me there, his eyebrows knitting together as he glanced around the room before fixing his gaze on me.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone still as clipped as ever.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "What are you doing here?" I shot back. "I thought you weren't even coming to the party."

His eyes narrowed for a moment, but then he seemed to shrug it off. "Well I did. But, I don’t exactly need to announce my presence to everyone." His voice was colder than usual.

I bit my lip, frustration rising in my chest. "Then why are you here, Yoongi? If you're so indifferent about the party, why are you hiding out here?"

His shoulders tensed slightly as he crossed his arms in front of him while standing next to the coach, his eyes not quite meeting mine. "Not hiding. Just... thinking." He sighed. "I could ask the same thing."

I crossed my arms too, feeling the heat of irritation flood my veins. "I’m just getting away from the noise for a bit, okay?"

He didn't seem convinced, his lips forming a faint, sarcastic smile. "Right. Just taking a break. From everything, including the party, in my studio huh?"

Before I could respond, the unease that had been building between us finally snapped thanks to the alcohol. I pushed past him, moving toward the door. "Fine, I’ll leave. You can have your privacy too, Yoongi."

I turned sharply, my frustration boiling over, and reached for the door. The cool metal handle felt solid beneath my fingers, offering a small comfort. But as soon as I used it to crack the door open, I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me. A hand shot out, and in one swift motion, Yoongi’s arm stretched across me, pushing the door shut and blocking my escape.

I froze, my pulse quickening as I felt the warmth of his body close behind me. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe for a moment, caught in the tension of his presence. His arm hovered just inches from my face, the muscles in his forearm flexing as he braced himself against the door. I could feel the faint shift of air from his movement, the pressure of his proximity filling the space between us. He was so close, but he didn’t touch me.

His breath was warm against the back of my neck, his presence so tangible that it almost felt suffocating. I couldn’t help but stiffen, the tension in the air thick and heavy. My hand, still gripping the door handle, trembled slightly, and I could feel my heart thudding in my chest.

"Let go," I muttered, my voice low, tight with a mix of anger and something else that I couldn’t quite place.

But Yoongi didn’t budge. He was silent for a long moment, his body pressed just behind mine, not quite touching, but close enough that I could feel his every movement, his breath still brushing over the back of my neck.

"No," he said, his voice soft but firm’’...stay.” There was no hesitation in his tone, as though he had made up his mind about this. About me.

I didn’t turn to face him. I couldn’t. But I could hear the subtle shift in his tone. It wasn’t just the frustration from before—it was something else now. Something quieter.

"Why?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, though my hands were still shaking, my fingers gripping the door handle as if it might ground me. "Why should I stay?"

Yoongi’s breath seemed to hitch at that, and he shifted slightly, his chest brushing against my back as he leaned in just enough for me to feel the weight of his presence. "Because," he started slowly, his voice almost a murmur, "I didn’t tell you to leave."

His words were unexpected. I hadn’t anticipated this, whatever it was, this softness in his tone, this tension building between us.

I could feel myself bristling and I turned around to face him. "Why should I listen? You didn’t even want to work with me in the first place. Why should I stay here with you now?"

"Who told you that?"

His voice, quieter now when his eye caught mine, but the words still stung. "I overheard you that day, talking to Jihoon on the phone, during the first week. You said you should've argued harder with your company to not work with me... and you said it was because I’m a woman."

I could feel my chest tighten as the words left my lips. The tension in the air thickened, and before I knew it, I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

Yoongi’s face faltered. His eyes softened.

"I didn’t say that." Yoongi's voice was quieter, almost apologetic now. "If you heard me properly that day... I said I knew you were talented. And I knew how much you value your privacy. I know this whole thing is risky for you. That’s why… if I had known you were a woman, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to work with you. I didn’t want to blow your cover or make you feel uncomfortable around me the whole time".

I blinked, my heart dropping. I felt like I had heard those words, but it was as if I hadn’t truly processed them until now. Not in that context. I could feel my breath catch in my throat. I didn’t know what to say. His words were so different from what I had thought. My mind was swirling, and before I could stop it, a few tears broke free and slid down my cheek.

Without a word, Yoongi stepped closer, his hand brushing my cheek gently, his thumb swiping away the tears while holding my face.

I froze, staring up at him, unsure of what was happening, but the proximity, his nearness, was overwhelming. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, and his touch was so soft it almost made my heart ache.

His eyes met mine again, searching, lingering. We were so close now. His breath mingled with mine as he looked down at me, and I could feel the heat between us.

"Can I..." He started, his voice low, almost hesitant, but before he could finish, the door suddenly jolted behind me.

I jumped, both of us stepping away instinctively, my heart racing. The air between Yoongi and me shattered in an instant.

It was Hoseok. He stepped inside, a playful grin on his face, but his eyes didn’t seem to notice me. "Yoongi! Where’s Y/N? She was looking out for you earlier, and then she just disappeared on me."

I couldn’t look at either of them. I just stood there, my back to the door, trying to breathe normally.

Hoseok stepped further into the room, a confused expression crossing his face as he noticed me and the way Yoongi was standing. He glanced between us, his gaze flicking back to Yoongi. "Everything good here?" he asked, sounding half-serious, half-playful.

I quickly moved, my cheeks flushed, and hurried out of the room, unable to handle the awkwardness any longer. Hoseok called after me, but I didn’t look back. I just needed to get away, to breathe, to think.

But as I walked away, I couldn’t stop the images of Yoongi’s eyes on me, his breath on my skin. What had just happened? I wasn’t sure, but my heart was pounding in my chest as I moved further from that room, from him. *** When I finally made it back to the party, I spotted Minji chatting away with Taehyung. She looked up and waved me over, her usual bright energy making her stand out. But I couldn’t shake the feeling from earlier. Yoongi's words, his actions. I knew I needed to leave.

"Minji," I said, cutting through the conversation. "We need to go." She blinked, surprised at the abruptness of my tone, but nodded without questioning me. I turned to Taehyung, who had been listening to Minji ramble on, with a smile on his face.

"Tell Hoseok I’m sorry, but I have to leave. I'll see him again soon," I said, my voice steady. "And remind him that I still owe him that dinner."

Taehyung raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He just gave me a knowing smile. "Alright, take care. I’ll let him know."

Minji and I made our way out of the venue, the lights of the party fading as we stepped into the cool night air. The moment we were in a taxi, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.

Minji glanced at me, her eyes practically sparkling with mischief as she read me like an open book. “Wow. So you did meet him. What happened? Tell me everything. Now."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "You’re relentless, you know that?"

Minji threw me a playful look. "You're not getting away with it. I need to know all the details. Was it awkward? Did he talk to you? What did he say? Was it... was it like, a moment?"

I groaned, leaning back against the headrest. "Honestly, it was... complicated." I paused, gathering my thoughts. "We had a bit of an argument, and then, out of nowhere, he blocked the door when I tried to leave. He didn’t want me to go. And then, he... he said some things. I don’t know. Things about me being a woman, about my privacy... It just felt like it was all crashing down in one moment."

Minji’s face shifted from excitement to concern. "Wait, what? He said what about your privacy?"

I sighed deeply, recalling the mix of emotions from that moment. "I told him I overheard him on the phone saying he didn't want to work with me because I was a woman. I was mad. And I think I was hurt, too. He didn’t deny it. He said... he said that he knows I’m talented and that he wouldn’t have worked with me if he knew I was a girl because it could’ve blown my cover. I... I didn’t know what to think."

Minji stared at me, processing everything I’d just said. "Wow. That’s a lot. But it sounds like he really didn’t want to hurt you, Y/N. I mean, he doesn’t want to blow your cover, and he’s not the type to just say stuff for no reason. I think he might’ve been trying to protect you in his own way."

I shook my head, still not fully understanding it all. "Maybe. But it doesn’t make it easier. He’s so confusing, Minji. One minute, he’s mad at me, then we’re... closer than I thought. I don’t even know if I want to deal with it."

Minji placed a hand on mine, her expression softening. "You’re allowed to be confused. I get it. But maybe, just maybe, this could be a good thing. He’s not the only one with walls up, you know? You’ve got yours too."

I sighed, leaning back again. "Yeah, but this... this is different. He’s not supposed to make me feel like this."

Minji didn’t say anything at first, but then she shrugged slightly. "Look, I can’t tell you what to do. But whatever happens, you’ll figure it out. You always do."

Her words were comforting, even though I wasn’t sure if I agreed. I wanted to know what Yoongi wanted from me, if anything. But for now, I had to focus on what came next.

***

The next morning, I woke up feeling like I was moving through a fog. I didn’t know if it was the alcohol from the night before or the confusion swirling around my thoughts, but I had to get up, get ready, and go to work. It was just another day. I was a professional, after all.

As I stared at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t help but think about everything that had happened between Yoongi and I the night before. The words, the tension, the way he blocked the door... It all felt like a surreal dream now. I quickly pushed those thoughts away, forcing myself to focus. I’d told Minji last night that I wouldn’t mention it again. That was the plan. I was going to walk in, act normal, and get through this day like nothing had happened. I had a job to do.

I dressed quickly, choosing something that felt both comfortable and professional, jeans and a simple blouse. Nothing too attention-grabbing. With one last look at myself in the mirror, I headed out.

The drive to the studio was quiet, my mind a little too preoccupied with what I’d left behind. I thought about texting Minji again, but I didn’t want to be that person who overanalysed everything. I’d deal with it.

The moment I stepped into the studio, I immediately spotted Yoongi, already seated at the desk, headphones on, his gaze focused on the screen in front of him. The familiar quiet hum of the place seemed to swallow up any lingering awkwardness between us.

I set my bag down on the sofa and made my way over to the desk, trying to appear as casual as possible. I could feel Yoongi’s eyes flicker briefly in my direction, but he didn’t acknowledge me right away. That was fine. No need for anything weird to happen today. I wasn’t going to let it.

“Morning,” I said, offering a neutral smile, willing myself to act as though last night had never even happened.

Yoongi just nodded, his expression still unreadable. "Morning."

I took my seat and opened my notebook, flipping through the pages as if the routine of it all would help settle the tension that had been gnawing at me since our confrontation the night before. The silence between us felt a little less suffocating, though. It wasn’t that we were talking more, it was just that Yoongi didn’t seem as harsh on his tone today. No biting comments yet, no sharp observations either.

He adjusted the volume on the speakers and clicked around on the computer for a few seconds before speaking again. "You finished that beat you were working on Saturday?"

“Yeah, it’s done,” I replied, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were focused on the screen, but I noticed there was a slight change in his demeanour. The tension from before, the coldness, seemed to have faded. It wasn’t gone completely, but it was much more subtle now.

He didn’t respond immediately, just tapped a few keys on the keyboard before nodding. “Alright. Let’s hear it.”

I slid the flash drive with the updated track across the table. Yoongi took it, plugged it into the system, and started the track without a word. The room filled with the sound of the beat I had been perfecting, and I waited, watching his reaction closely.

As the beat played, Yoongi’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t make any negative comments this time. He just let the track play all the way through, his eyes scanning the waveform on the screen, listening intently.

When the track ended, he leaned back in his chair, finally looking over at me. “Not bad.”

I couldn’t help but feel a small relief wash over me. "Not bad" from Yoongi was a compliment, even if it didn’t sound like one. At least he hadn’t outright criticized it.

“Thanks,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though I could feel my nerves creeping back up again. “Anything you want me to change?”

Yoongi scratched his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a little too clean. Add some grit, something to make it stand out more. We need it to hit harder.”

I nodded, taking mental notes. “Got it. I’ll work on that.”

It felt almost normal, the way we interacted. No lingering animosity, no mention of what had happened the night before.

As the session continued, the vibe between us remained steady, calm and professional, with just a touch of the underlying tension we hadn’t addressed. We worked for hours, tweaking the track here and there, going back and forth on the sound and rhythm until everything was just the way we wanted it.

At some point, Yoongi stood up and stretched, letting out a quiet sigh. “I’m going to grab a coffee. You want anything?”

I blinked, surprised. He’d never offered to get me anything before, not like this. His tone was casual, though, like it was no big deal.

“I’ll take an iced coffee,” I said, half-smiling at the unexpected gesture.

Yoongi didn’t say anything, just nodded and walked out of the studio. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. It wasn’t like everything was magically fixed, but there was something about this new, less tense dynamic that felt... better. More comfortable, even.

As I sat back in my chair, I tried to focus on the track again, but my mind kept drifting. What has changed between us? I knew I wasn’t imagining it, there was definitely something different today. But I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

When Yoongi came back with the coffee, we fell back into the routine of the session, but now, it felt almost easy. We were working smoothly, and I caught him glancing over at me once or twice, his eyes lingering a little longer than before.

Still, neither of us brought up what happened the night before. Not yet. Maybe it wasn’t the right time. Or maybe it was something neither of us wanted to revisit.

***

As the day came to a close, I packed up my things, feeling the weight of the day lifting off my shoulders. I had managed to get through the session with Yoongi without any more awkwardness, which was a small victory in itself. As I grabbed my bag, I looked over at Yoongi, who was already absorbed in his work again.

“See you tomorrow,” I said casually, ready to leave the studio.

Yoongi gave me a small nod, his focus not wavering. “Yeah, see you.”

I left the studio and stepped into the cool evening air, the city lights twinkling in the distance. I needed a distraction. Something to take my mind off everything that had happened with Yoongi.

I pulled out my phone and quickly sent a text to Hoseok.

Y/N: Hey, are you free tonight?

Hoseok: Yeah, I’m free. What’s up?

Y/N: I told you I owe you dinner. Want to grab some barbecue tonight?

Hoseok: Haha, of course I didn’t forget! Even Taehyung reminded me about it last night after you left! So yeah, sure, let’s do it. When and where?

Y/N: How about at 7 at that popular spot in Gangnam?

Hoseok: Perfect! I’ll see you there. I’ll be starving by the time we meet!

Y/N: Same here. I’m ready to eat my weight in meat.

Hoseok: Haha, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N!

Y/N: See you soon!

I smiled as I read our conversation. Hoseok had a way of lightening the mood, and the idea of spending the evening with him, laughing and eating good food, felt like the perfect way to unwind.

When I arrived at the restaurant, the smell of grilled meat hit me as soon as I stepped inside. I scanned the room for Hoseok and spotted him right away. He was sitting at a table near the back, looking up at me with a wide smile as always.

"Y/N!" he greeted me, standing up to wave as I approached.

"Helloo!" I said with a grin, taking my seat across from him.

He immediately grabbed the menu, flipping through it. "So, what are you in the mood for? Meat, meat, and more meat?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

"Definitely," I replied, laughing. "I’ve been craving barbecue all day."

We both ordered a few different cuts of meat, and as we waited for the grill to heat up, Hoseok leaned back in his chair, looking at me curiously.

"So, what happened last night?" he asked casually, the question catching me a bit off guard.

I hesitated for a second, my fingers tapping on the table. "What do you mean?" I asked, pretending not to understand what he was getting at.

"You know... I could tell something was a little off when you left the party, after i caught you with Yoongi at the studio.." Hoseok said, his tone soft but inquisitive. "Everything okay between you two?”

I shrugged, forcing a smile. "Yeah, everything’s fine," I said, though the words didn’t feel entirely true. "We finished the first song. Two more to go, and then we’ll be done."

Hoseok didn’t seem convinced. He nodded and took a sip of his drink before continuing. "Well, that’s good. I’m glad to hear you’re making progress. But, uh... are you sure everything’s okay with him? You know... since you’ve been working really closely together."

I looked down at my hands for a moment, gathering my thoughts. "It’s fine, Hoseok. Really. Just... we have our days, you know?"

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. "If you say so."

The food arrived, and the sizzling sounds of meat on the grill distracted us both for a moment. Hoseok was quick to start cooking, flipping the pieces of meat with ease. The smell was intoxicating, and I could already feel my stomach growling in anticipation.

We continued to eat, talk, and laugh, the mood light and easy. Hoseok was a great conversationalist. We talked about music, our favourite songs, and his plans for the future. It felt so natural, like we’d known each other for years instead of just a month.

At one point, he pulled out his phone. "Hey, I’d like you to hear something," he said, tapping away at the screen. A moment later, his phone was playing a new track, a smooth, upbeat melody that instantly grabbed my attention.

"This is one of my newer tracks," Hoseok said, watching me closely as the music played. "I’m really proud of it so far, but I’d love to hear your thoughts on it. What do you think?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the music wash over me. "This is really good, Hoseok," I said, smiling. "It’s got such a great vibe. It’s... it’s got that perfect energy."

He grinned, clearly pleased with the feedback. "Thanks. I’m hoping it’s going to be a hit. But, you know, it’s not finished yet. Still got a bit of work to do."

"Well, I’d be happy to help with anything you need," I said, my tone sincere. "I think you’re on the right track. I can already picture it in a club."

"Yeah? You’re the expert," he said, leaning back in his chair with a proud smile. "Maybe I should bring you on as a collaborator someday."

I raised my eyebrows at the suggestion. "Collaborator? That would be interesting."

Hoseok laughed, shaking his head. "I’m just saying... if you’re up for it…"

"Maybe," I teased, taking a sip of my drink.

As the night went on, we continued to enjoy the barbecue, the conversation flowing easily between us. It was a welcome distraction from the confusion that had been hanging over me lately. It was hard not to feel at ease around Hoseok. He was kind, funny, and genuine in a way that made me feel like I could let my guard down.

Eventually, after we’d eaten our fill and were lounging in our seats, Hoseok pulled out his phone again. "Come on, let’s take a photo," he suggested, grinning. "You know, for the memories."

I nodded with a smile and he grabbed his phone, opening the camera. We both leaned in, the grill between us, holding our drinks up like we were toasting. "Best birthday gift ever," Hoseok said dramatically as the picture snapped, before quickly typing something into his phone.

"Done!" he said proudly. "I posted it to my close friends on Kakao Talk. You know, just in case anyone wants to know how I spent my special days."

I laughed, shaking my head. "You’re crazy."

"I know," he said with a wink, taking another drink from his glass. "But seriously, Y/N, this has been fun. Thanks for asking me to come out tonight. You’re a lot of fun to hang out with."

I smiled, feeling a warmth in my chest. "Of course. I’m glad we did this. It’s been way too long since I’ve had a night like this myself."

"Same here," Hoseok said with a smile. "We should do it again sometime."

As the night wound down to an end, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. It had been a good night, and it felt like I’d finally had a chance to breathe again. The pressure I’d been carrying, the weight of my thoughts about Yoongi and everything that had happened, seemed to lighten a little as I had sat there across from Hoseok, laughing and eating with no other worries.

When the bill arrived, I was quick to grab it, remembering my promise. "It’s on me tonight," I said, pulling my card out before Hoseok could protest. I shook my head, giving him a playful look. "I owe you dinner, remember?"

He laughed, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll let you have your moment." He watched me pay, his expression softening into something more genuine. "But next time, I’m the one picking the place and bill."

"Deal," I said, with a smirk. "But only if it’s something equally as good as tonight."

"Haha, I’ll try," he replied, still laughing.

As we walked out of the restaurant, we decided that the evening had been a success, and that we would definitely plan another time to hang out. It was nice to have a real moment with him, away from all the stress and confusion, it had been exactly what I needed, an evening of laughter, food, and friendship. And for that, I was thankful. ***

The next day, I walked into the studio feeling lighter than I had in weeks. My relationship with Yoongi seemed to had softened after yesterday, and dinner with Hoseok had been a bright spot in an otherwise chaotic schedule. I was ready to tackle the second track with a fresh perspective.

As always, Yoongi was already in the studio when I arrived, sitting at the mixing desk, adjusting levels with his usual quiet focus. He acknowledged me with a small nod as I set up my things. His demeanour seemed normal at first, calm and business like.

We dove into the track, bouncing ideas back and forth. At first, everything felt fine, normal even. But as the hours ticked by, Yoongi’s feedback became sharper, his tone more clipped.

“Can you take this seriously?” he snapped suddenly after I made a suggestion about the arrangement.

I looked up, startled. “I am taking this seriously. What’s going on with you today? You seemed fine yesterday.”

“Nothing’s going on,” he said curtly, not looking at me. His fingers tapped at the keyboard with more force than necessary. “You just need to focus more on the job you’re supposed to do.”

I frowned, confused by his sudden change in attitude. “We’re making progress,” I said cautiously, trying to keep my voice calm. “I’m confident we’ll meet the deadline.”

Yoongi spun his chair to face me, his eyes narrowing. “If you really cared about the deadline, you would focus on the work instead of going out to dinner with Hoseok and wasting your energy there.”

His words hit like a slap. I blinked, completely taken aback. “How do you even know about the dinner?”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “He posted it on Kakao Talk. All the guys were talking about it in the group chat.”

I froze, trying to process what he was saying. Of course Hoseok had shared it, but it was a perfectly innocent dinner, and he’d been excited about it. Still, I felt a strange pang of guilt under Yoongi’s intense gaze.

“I invited him because I felt bad about going to his birthday party without bringing a gift,” I explained, my voice steady but defensive. “I just wanted to make up for it.”

Yoongi’s eyes stayed locked on mine, unreadable. “It’s interesting,” he said coolly, “how close you are with him. I’m the one you work with every day. You don’t see us going to dinner, do you?”

I opened my mouth to respond but hesitated, unsure of what to say. Before I could gather my thoughts, Yoongi waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. Let’s just get back to work.”

The room fell into an awkward silence. I stared at him for a moment longer, trying to make sense of his reaction, but his posture was closed off, his focus fully on the screen in front of him. With a frustrated sigh, I turned back to my notes and forced myself to concentrate on the task at hand.

The rest of the session felt strained. Yoongi’s usual calm, measured feedback was replaced with sharp, almost impatient remarks. It wasn’t just the work, something else was clearly bothering him, but I couldn’t figure out what.

Then, halfway through a take, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression tightening. Without a word, he stood and began gathering his things.

“What’s going on?” I asked, breaking the tense silence.

“Nothing,” he said shortly, not meeting my eyes. “Let’s cut this short today.”

“Yoongi—” I started, but he was already slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his tone final.

And just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone in the studio. I stared at the door for a long moment, my emotions a mix of confusion and frustration. Whatever had just happened felt personal, even though I couldn’t understand why.

As I packed up my things, my mind kept circling back to his words, to the way he’d looked at me. You don’t see us going to dinner, do you? What did that even mean? Why did it sound like he cared, like it bothered him?

Shaking my head, I gathered my bag and left the studio. No matter how much I wanted to make sense of it, I wasn’t going to let Yoongi’s mood derail the progress we were making, or my own peace of mind. I had a job to do, and I wasn’t about to let this strange tension get in the way.

*** The next day, Yoongi and I exchanged only a few words when I arrived at the studio. His mood seemed calmer than yesterday, though still a little distant. I decided not to push it.

We worked steadily through the day, both of us falling into the rhythm of our tasks. It wasn’t awkward, just focused, like two professionals determined to meet their goal. The hours passed in a blur of music, notes, and adjustments. By the time Yoongi looked up from the computer, his face was lit with mild surprise.

“Ah, shit,” he muttered, glancing at the clock. “It’s late,” rubbing the back of his neck. “We should stop here for today. It’s good progress.”

I nodded and stood up, but as soon as I tried to take a step, my legs wobbled beneath me. I reached out to steady myself against the desk, my vision spinning slightly.

Yoongi was already on his feet, stepping toward me with concern etched on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said quickly. “I think I’m just a little dizzy. Now that I think about it… I didn’t even eat lunch.”

Without a word, he reached for my wrist and tugged gently. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, what?” I asked, caught off guard. “Go where?”

“To eat,” he said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I tried to protest as he led me out of the studio and toward his car. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll grab something on the way home.”

Yoongi ignored me, opening the passenger door and gesturing for me to get in. Reluctantly, I slid into the seat, and he shut the door before walking around to the driver’s side.

The drive was quiet, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. I glanced at him a few times, wondering why he was going out of his way like this, but his expression was unreadable.

We arrived at a small, cosy restaurant tucked away in a quiet part of the city. Yoongi parked the car and got out without a word, waiting for me to follow.

Inside, the warm lighting and inviting atmosphere made me relax a little. We were seated at a corner table, and soon, the smell of grilled meat and savoury dishes filled the air.

“About yesterday,” he started, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.

I glanced up, momentarily stunned. He wasn’t looking at me; instead, his gaze was fixed on his plate, as if the words were hard to push out.

“I was out of line,” he admitted, exhaling sharply, almost like the confession itself was a weight lifted.

I blinked, my chopsticks hovering mid-air. Yoongi rarely, if ever, admitted fault. This was unexpected.

“I took a lot of things out on you,” he continued, his tone laced with a hint of self-reproach. His chopsticks moved idly, pushing food around on his plate as if it could somehow distract him from the vulnerability of the moment. “Things that weren’t your fault. And for that, I’m sorry.”

The sincerity in his voice made my breath catch. This wasn’t the stoic, sharp-tongued producer I’d been working with for weeks. This was Yoongi stripped of his usual defences, and it threw me off balance.

“You... You’re apologizing?” I finally said, a mix of disbelief and teasing slipping into my tone.

His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Yeah. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I mean, how can I not?” I said, leaning back in my chair, folding my arms in mock astonishment. “Min Yoongi admitting he’s wrong? I didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”

He let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Don’t get used to it.”

Despite his attempt at brushing it off, I could tell the apology mattered to him. He wasn’t the type to say things he didn’t mean, and the effort behind his words wasn’t lost on me.

“Look,” he continued after a moment, his voice steadying. “Yesterday... I just have been under a lot of pressure, and I let it get to me. That wasn’t fair to you. You’ve been working hard, and I should’ve recognized that.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice softer now. “That means a lot.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, the tension between us melting away. As the meal went on, we started to relax, trading small talk about work and life. Yoongi even ordered a bottle of wine, and soon we were sipping glasses of it, the conversation growing lighter.

For the first time, it felt like I was seeing a different side of him, one that wasn’t guarded or buried in his work. And for a moment, it was easy to forget the weight of the studio, the deadlines, and everything else that had been hanging over us.

By the end of the night, my cheeks ached from laughing, a rare, warm contentment spreading through me. Yoongi had surprised me, not just with his apology, but with the way he let his guard down, even if just a little. Maybe he wasn’t as closed off as I’d assumed. Maybe there was more to him than I’d ever expected.

As we stepped outside the restaurant, the crisp night air greeted us. "Hey, you can’t drive now since you’ve had a drink," I said, glancing at Yoongi. "Should we call a taxi or something? Or maybe Hobi? I saw his stories, he was bored at home, he could probably come pick us up."

Yoongi’s expression shifted, and he immediately shook his head. "No," he said, his voice firm. "I’ll handle it. I’m calling Jihoon." I raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment but let it slide. The warmth from the alcohol in my system faded quickly, leaving me shivering slightly in the cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stave off the chill.

Yoongi noticed. “It’s getting cold,” he said, almost to himself. Before I could respond, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it around my shoulders.

The unexpected gesture made me pause. The weight of the jacket and the faint scent of his cologne caught me off guard. I looked up at him, my eyes wide. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” I said softly.

He waved it off. “It’s fine. I’m not cold.”

I tilted my head, sceptical. “Really? Your hands must be freezing,” I said, blowing warm air over my own hands and rubbing them together in a futile attempt to warm them.

Yoongi’s eyes flicked to my hands, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he reached out, wrapping his hands gently over mine. The sudden warmth of his touch stopped me in my tracks.

His hands were warm, enveloping mine completely. I glanced up at him, startled. He didn’t say anything, his gaze locked on mine, intense yet unreadable. For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of us standing there, connected by something unspoken.

My breath hitched, the moment heavy with tension neither of us dared to break. But before it could go any further, the sound of a taxi pulling up snapped us back to reality.

“Jihoon’s here,” Yoongi said, his voice steady as he stepped back, letting my hands go.

I quickly pulled my hands behind my back, hiding the tingling warmth that lingered from his touch. Jihoon stepped out of the car, waving casually as he approached.

“Thanks for coming,” Yoongi said, handing him the keys to his car.

“No problem,” Jihoon replied with a grin. “You guys look like you had a good night.”

Yoongi nodded and gestured for me to get in the backseat. He opened the door for me, waiting until I was seated before climbing in beside me.

The ride was quiet, with Jihoon humming along to the radio in the front seat. I stared out the window, my thoughts swirling as I replayed the events of the night. The warmth of Yoongi’s jacket around my shoulders and the memory of his hands over mine lingered, leaving me more confused than ever.

Unable to resist, I flicked my gaze toward him. His profile was sharp in the dim light, the strong line of his jaw catching my attention. Why does he have to look like that? My eyes drifted downward, landing on his hands resting casually on his lap. Those veiny, capable hands that had so effortlessly wrapped around mine earlier.

My face grew warm as I recalled the moment, a rush of heat spreading through me. Embarrassed by my own thoughts, I quickly snapped my gaze back to the window, determined not to look at him again for the rest of the ride. ‘Focus on something else, anything else,’ I told myself, even as my heart stubbornly refused to settle. When we pulled up in front of my place, Jihoon parked smoothly, and Yoongi stepped out of the car before I could say anything. He stood there for a moment, looking composed as ever, his hands tucked casually into his pockets.

“Bye,” he said simply, his voice even but low enough to make my stomach flip. “See you tomorrow.”

I managed a small smile. “Okay. Bye.”

He watched me walk to my door, and when I turned back for a second, he was already getting back into the car. Jihoon gave a small wave before driving off, leaving me standing there, suddenly alone.

Once inside, I leaned against the door, the events of the evening replaying in my mind like a whirlwind. Dinner, the jacket, his hands over mine... It was all too much. I sighed, pulling the jacket off to hang it up, only to freeze mid-motion.

“Oh no.” My voice echoed in the quiet space. His jacket. I still had it.

I grabbed my phone, typing quickly.

Me: I just realized I still have your jacket. Did you guys leave already?

His reply came faster than I expected.

Yoongi: It’s fine. You can give it back another day.

I stared at the screen, his words making me bite my lip. For a moment, I debated responding, but what else was there to say? Sighing, I put my phone down and folded the jacket neatly. The faint scent of him lingered, a mix of something warm and clean, distinctly Yoongi.

I groaned softly, shaking my head. “Don’t overthink it.”

But as I walked away, I caught my reflection in the hallway mirror, my flushed cheeks betraying my effort to play it cool. ***

The next day, everything felt smoother. The tension from the past week seemed to have evaporated, leaving behind a productive atmosphere in the studio. Yoongi and I worked through the second track effortlessly, the beats and lyrics falling into place with surprising speed. By lunchtime, we had made significant progress, and the track was nearly perfect. Yoongi gave a brief nod of approval before leaning back in his chair.

"One more to go," he said, his tone casual, but I could tell he was feeling a sense of accomplishment too.

Just then, the door to the studio opened with a loud creak, and Hoseok walked in, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted us.

"Hey, look at you two," he said, his voice light. "I come in, and it’s all quiet. Something going on huh?"

Yoongi and I exchanged a glance. "The second track is done, so we're almost there. One more track, and the album’s done."

Hoseok leaned against the doorframe, his expression softening slightly. "Damn, it’s hard to believe we’re almost there." His eyes flickered toward Yoongi, then back at me. "I’m excited, but... also a little nervous. You know, with everything happening soon."

I raised an eyebrow, curious. "What’s going on? What are you talking about?"

Hoseok sighed dramatically, walking further into the room. "Well, since you two are now so close to wrapping up, I need to tell you something." He sat down on the edge of a nearby desk, his eyes locking on me. "I’m going to the military soon."

For a moment, there was silence as I processed the information. My stomach dropped slightly as the reality of it set in. "Wait, you’re leaving already?" I asked, the words slipping out before I could think.

Hoseok smiled gently, his eyes a little softer than usual. "Yeah. It’s going to happen soon. So..." He leaned forward, his tone turning playful but with an undercurrent of something more serious. "I’m going to use that to guilt-trip you two into hanging out with me tomorrow night. I’m hosting a little get-together at my place. Come along, since you’ve worked hard on this album, you deserve a break. You know you want to. Let’s have one last hurrah before I disappear for a while."

Yoongi, who had been silent until now, looked up with a raised eyebrow. "You really think you can just guilt-trip us into going out?"

Hoseok nodded with a sly grin. "Yup. It’s my last chance to make you guys hang out with me before I go. Please?" He looked at both of us, his expression softening, almost pleading.

Yoongi shot me a glance, and I shrugged. "I mean, we’re done with the second track, so it wouldn’t hurt to let loose for a night."

Yoongi looked hesitant for a moment, but Hoseok wasn’t backing down. "Come on, it’s just one night. You can relax and have some fun. Besides, you two need a break, right?"

I chuckled, the tension in the room starting to melt. "Alright, alright. I’ll come, Hoseok. You don’t need to keep trying to guilt-trip us." Yoongi also nodded.

Hoseok’s face lit up, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Yes! That’s what I’m talking about. You won’t regret it. I’m inviting a few people, and we’ll just hang out, eat, talk, maybe play some games."

Yoongi grunted, but there was no denying the slight curve of a smile on his lips. "Fine. One night. But don’t expect us to get drunk or anything."

Hoseok laughed, shaking his head. "Who said anything about getting drunk? I just want to spend some time together, that’s all. We’re all so busy, and before you know it, I’ll be gone."

He was right. As much as we all had our own things to focus on, this was a moment to come together before everything changed. And honestly, after working so hard on the album, I could use a little time to relax.

"Alright, we’re in. What time should we be there?" I asked, already feeling a little more at ease about it.

"7 PM. Don’t be late," Hoseok said with a wink. "I’m going to make sure there’s food, so just come hungry."

"Okay," I agreed, nodding. "See you tomorrow, then."

As Hoseok left the studio, I glanced over at Yoongi, who was already back to his work. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Despite everything, the day had been productive, and now we were going to take some time for ourselves. I didn’t know how often I’d get moments like these, where things felt normal, light and easy.

"Guess we’re going to Hoseok’s," I said, trying to keep things casual.

Yoongi gave a small nod, his expression unreadable as always, but there was a faint sense of relaxation in his posture. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered again, almost as if to convince himself.

***

The next day, Yoongi and I had somehow hit a streak, two days in a row of working together without any tension. We finished everything we had planned for the day, and as the evening rolled around, we were both in a surprisingly good mood.

As the last song for the day played out, I looked up from my computer and caught Yoongi’s eye.

"Guess that’s a wrap for today," I said, stretching out my arms. "See you at the party, yeah?"

Yoongi gave me a small nod, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, see you there."

I stood up to grab my things, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. It had been a long time since we’d gotten along this well, and I wasn’t going to overthink it. Tonight was supposed to be fun, a chance to relax.

"Try not to get too drunk," I teased lightly as I started toward the door.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "Could say the same thing to you.” "Uh-huh," I shot back, laughing as I left the room. "Sure."

As I walked out, I could feel the lightness in my step. For once, it felt like things were moving in the right direction. The night ahead felt full of possibilities, even if it was just hanging out with the rest of the team.

When I got home, I quickly changed into something casual, not wanting to overdo it for Hoseok’s party. I kept it simple, a pair of jeans and a loose top. Around 7 PM, I made my way to Hoseok’s place, and when I arrived, I found the others already there.

The atmosphere was warm and relaxed, the smell of food filling the air. The place was buzzing with laughter and easy conversation. I caught sight of Yoongi sitting at the corner of the room, his usual calm demeanour in place, but there was something different about him tonight. His hair was styled, and the black shirt he was wearing seemed to fit him just right, accentuating his broad shoulders. There was an easy confidence in his posture, and as I studied him for a moment, I realized he looked… hot.

I quickly averted my gaze, not wanting to get caught staring. The last thing I needed was to get all flustered over him again. I turned my attention to the rest of the room and spotted Hoseok in the middle of a conversation with a few other guests. He seemed to be doing his usual thing, laughing and talking animatedly, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to interrupt just yet.

Instead, I made my way over to where Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung were chatting near the food table. They were all mid-laugh when I approached, and Jungkook waved me over with a grin.

“Y/N! Come join us, we were just talking about the new choreography for a music video,” he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Oh? What is it about this choreography?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Taehyung leaned in with a mischievous grin. “We’re learning this really complicated move that involves, like, spinning and flipping, but it looks ridiculous when we try it,” he said, laughing.

Jimin jumped in. “Taehyung’s over-exaggerating, it’s not that bad. But we’re definitely working on something new for the next video, and it’s going to be fun.”

“Yeah, we’re going to have to rehearse a lot,” Jungkook added with a playful smirk. “Taehyung might need extra practice though,” he teased.

I chuckled. “I’m sure you’ll all manage. You guys are pros, after all.”

Taehyung pouted but then grinned again. “Yeah, but you should see us try. We look like a bunch of drunk chickens. Maybe we’ll film it for behind-the-scenes footage.”

“Please do, I’d love to see that,” I replied, laughing along with them.

As we were talking, I noticed Hoseok making his way over with a big smile on his face. He clapped his hands together and announced, “Alright, everyone, I think it’s time for a drinking game! Who’s in? It’s going to be fun, I promise!”

Jimin immediately jumped up, grinning. “I’m in! Let’s do this!”

“Count me in too,” Taehyung said, raising his hand. “I’m ready to win this game.”

I glanced at Jungkook, who gave a playful nod. “Let’s go. This should be interesting.”

With that, the four of us headed over to the designated table where the drinks were already set up. Hoseok was already grinning, ready to start the game, and I couldn’t help but feel a little excited about just having fun and not overthinking things.

The game started with some light-hearted activities, rapid-fire questions, and silly tasks that made everyone laugh. It was a great way to break the ice, and before long, we were all feeling more relaxed, enjoying the playful atmosphere.

Then, the game shifted into something a bit more daring: Love Shots. The concept was simple: when the bottle spun, it landed on a couple who had to take a shot together. The catch? You had to show the best “couple moment” before drinking.

I glanced around at everyone as the bottle spun, my heart racing a little at the thought of it landing on someone I knew. Of course, it landed on me and Hoseok first. He flashed me a grin that was as mischievous as it was charming.

"Well, looks like we're the first couple for the night, huh?" he said, winking.

I laughed and leaned in slightly. "Guess so. Let’s make this quick, yeah?"

We took our shot in sync, laughing after, and I couldn’t help but notice the way Hoseok’s eyes sparkled when he was having fun. It made me a little giddy.

The game continued, and once again, the bottle spun, this time landing on Hoseok and me again. A few people around the table groaned, teasing us about being the “official couple.” We just grinned at each other, ready for the next round.

I quickly glanced over at Yoongi, who had been quiet all night, sitting at the table but not participating. He wasn’t drinking either. His gaze was locked on Hoseok and me, and there was a strange tension in his expression. He wasn’t judging, but he wasn’t engaging either. It was hard to ignore, and I wondered if he was actually bothered by us being partnered up for the game.

Earlier, I had briefly talked to him when the game first started. I asked why he wasn’t drinking, and he had simply said, “Not feeling like it tonight.” There was something about his tone that made me want to ask more, but I didn’t push it. He wasn’t the type to open up unless he was ready.

"Alright, Y/N, it’s your turn again!" Taehyung called out, snapping me out of my thoughts.

The bottle spun again, and this time, it landed on Hoseok and me again. We both burst into laughter, but this time I noticed Yoongi’s eyes briefly flicker towards us. He didn’t look away, but he didn’t speak either. He just observed, his hands folded in front of him as the game carried on.

Hoseok, being a bit more playful, shot me a grin and said, “Guess we’re really the perfect couple, huh?”

I smirked, playing along. “Yeah, looks like I’m stuck with you, Hobi.”

We drank again, and I could feel the warmth of the alcohol creeping through me, loosening my nerves and making everything feel lighter. But despite the fun, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Yoongi’s quiet presence at the table was adding a certain weight to the game. His lack of participation made the contrast between us even more noticeable.

The game finally came to an end after what felt like hours of spinning bottles and laughing until our sides hurt. But as the night wore on, a lot of people were either passed out, waiting for their turn, or feeling too sleepy to continue. I noticed the energy in the room starting to wind down, and with work to do tomorrow, I figured it was best to leave.

I stood up, scanning the room for Hoseok. I spotted him laughing with a few of the other guests, his eyes bright and full of energy despite the late hour. I made my way over to him, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey, Hobi,” I said, offering him a warm smile. “I think I’m going to head out now. I’ve got work tomorrow.”

Hoseok turned to me with a disappointed but understanding expression. “Aww, already? Well, it was really fun having you here. You sure you don’t want me to come with you?”

I shook my head, grateful for the offer but knowing he had a lot of guests to attend to. “Nah, you stay and enjoy. I’ll just grab a taxi. I’ll be fine.”

Before Hoseok could respond, there was a shift in the air. Yoongi, who had been quiet all evening, stood up suddenly from his spot at the table. His voice was calm, but his words caught us both off guard.

“I’m leaving. I’ll take Y/N with me,” he said, tone firm but casual.

The room fell a bit quieter at his declaration. Hoseok blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Yoongi to step in. There was an unspoken tension as we all stood there for a moment, unsure of how to react.

I quickly turned to Hoseok, offering him one last smile. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Thanks for everything tonight.”

Hoseok smiled back, still a little surprised by Yoongi’s sudden intervention, but he nodded. “Alright, take care. See you soon.”

I didn’t give him a chance to say anything else before I quickly made my way toward the door, following Yoongi. I couldn’t help but feel a little flustered. What just happened? Why did Yoongi suddenly decide to take me home?

“Yoongi, wait up!” I called out, catching up to him as he made his way outside.

Yoongi was already ahead, his long strides purposeful. When I caught up with him, I hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Yoongi… you didn’t have to do this, you know…”

He didn’t look at me as he continued walking, but his voice was calm. “It’s fine. You’re not going to take a taxi alone this late. It’s safer this way.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but I stopped myself. There was something in the way he said it that made me not want to push back. Instead, I just followed him outside, the cool night air brushing against my skin as we made our way to the car.

I had no idea what this meant, or what was running through Yoongi’s mind, but for now, I was just grateful that he had decided to take me home.

The drive back home was quiet but comfortable, with only the hum of the car filling the space between us. It wasn’t awkward, though. There was something peaceful about it, something unspoken that made the silence feel easy.

When we arrived at my apartment block, Yoongi stepped out of the car first, walking around to open the door for me.

“Thanks,” I said softly, already preparing to say my goodbyes as I stepped out.

But before I could, Yoongi spoke up, his tone surprisingly serious. “Actually… Can I have my jacket back?”

I blinked in confusion, not entirely sure I’d heard him right. “Seriously?” I asked, laughing a little at the unexpected request. “You’re really asking for it back now?”

He glanced at me with a small shrug, his eyes hiding whatever thoughts were going through his mind. “It’s cold,” he said simply.

I let out a sigh. “Okay, follow me. I took it from the dry cleaners today, and I was planning on bringing it to you tomorrow.”

I stepped inside my apartment, Yoongi following and standing halfway between the living room and the corridor. I quickly scanned the room, searching for the bag with the jacket in it. The silence stretched on as I fumbled through a few things, but Yoongi broke it, his voice unexpectedly blunt.

“So, you and Hobi, huh?”

I paused for a second, confused by the sudden shift in the conversation. “What about me and Hobi?”

“Well, all the dinners, the flirting today with the love shots… is there anything I should know about?” His gaze was steady, but I could see something flicker in his eyes.

I shook my head, trying to keep my tone light. “No, we’re just friends. He’s actually a nice person who respects me and my work.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just me overthinking things, but Yoongi’s next words caught me off guard. “But I thought these past few days we were on good terms as well.”

I felt a little defensive at that. “But I’m not working with Hobi. I’m not under a contract with him.”

Yoongi didn’t seem satisfied. “Besides all that, I still felt like we could be more than just coworkers.”

I blinked, not sure if I understood him right. “What? Do you want us to be friends?” I joked, trying to deflect the tension.

Yoongi’s eyes narrowed slightly, but I continued “Do you even hear yourself right now? If I had told Min Yoongi two months ago that he’d be asking me to be friends, he would’ve laughed in my face.”

Yoongi’s expression darkened for a moment. “Hell no, I don’t want to be friends with you.”

I crossed my arms, trying to hide the sudden heat rising to my cheeks. “Pff, then I don’t want to be friends with you either,” I shot back, scoffing. “Besides, you’re the one who brought it up in the first place. You were the one sulking about me being friends with Hobi and not with you.”

Yoongi’s eyes flickered with irritation. “I’m not sulking because you are friends with him, I am because you are close to a guy that’s not me.” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it.

“What?” I asked, genuinely confused.

Yoongi took a step closer, his expression darkening. “Let’s cut the crap. You’re telling me that after everything that’s been happening these past two months, the tension, the lingering touches… you never felt anything?” His eyes were locked onto mine, searching for something in them.

My breath hitched in my throat, but before I could respond, he continued. “And after what happened at Hobi’s birthday party… you didn’t move away from me. Hell, you were practically begging me to kiss you with the way you were looking at me. Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking about it too.”

I froze, my mind racing, trying to process his words. I hadn’t expected him to bring up that night, let alone accuse me of anything. My pulse quickened as I searched his face, unsure of what to say. Yoongi watched me closely, waiting for my response, but all I could do was stare at him, caught in the web of his words.

“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered, stepping back slightly, trying to play it cool, but my heart was pounding in my chest. Yoongi’s gaze was intense, his expression unreadable, and I couldn’t help but feel exposed under the weight of his words. Was he serious? Was I imagining all of this? I didn’t want to admit it, but everything he said was starting to make sense, whether I liked it or not.

Yoongi didn’t seem satisfied with my denial. He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine with a new intensity. “Oh really?” he murmured, his voice low and steady, but there was a hint of something sharper in it now. “Then tell me to stop.”

Before I could process the situation, before I could even think about what to say, he was on me. His lips crashed into mine with a sudden force that caught me off guard. The kiss was hard, desperate, as if he was trying to prove something to both of us. His hands gripped my arms firmly, pulling me in closer.

For a few seconds, I froze, not sure how to respond. His lips moved against mine with an urgency that made my mind race, but my body just… didn’t react. I couldn’t. My heart was beating so fast, my thoughts tangled in confusion. Was this real? Was he really kissing me?

Yoongi pulled back suddenly, his hands dropping from my arms. He stepped away, his expression flickering with something I couldn’t quite place. His breathing was heavier now, and he seemed to be searching for something in my eyes, a sign, maybe, of whether or not I felt the same.

“I— maybe I misunderstood,” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice quieter, as if the weight of his actions was suddenly dawning on him.

His words trailed off into a shaky breath, and for a moment, it felt like the room held its breath, everything hanging in the air between us. I stood there, wide-eyed, my lips tingling from the kiss, not knowing how to process what had just happened.

Yoongi’s eyes flicked to the ground for a second, and he muttered a curse under his breath. “Fuck…I’m sorry… I actually thought…” He cut himself off, looking at me like he was trying to gauge my reaction, like he was waiting for me to say something, anything.

The silence between us stretched on, thick and heavy, and I could feel my chest tightening with every passing second. I couldn’t let him walk away thinking he had made a mistake. I couldn’t just stand there and let this moment slip away.

Without even thinking, I stepped forward, my hands shaking slightly, but I reached for him. I grabbed the front of his shirt, tugging him closer to me until there was no space left between us. My heart was still racing, but this time, there was no hesitation. I kissed him back, pressing my lips to his with the same urgency that he had given me.

Yoongi stiffened at first, but after a second, he responded, his hands coming up to cup my face as he kissed me back. This time, there was no hesitation, no second-guessing. His kiss was deep, full of everything he hadn’t said, all the things that had been building up between us. His lips moved against mine, his fingers threading into my hair as he pulled me closer, if that was even possible.

I could feel the heat of his body against mine, the way his heart seemed to be racing just as fast as mine. The world outside of us faded, and for the first time in a long time, all I could think about was him, Yoongi, and this moment we were sharing.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, I was left reeling. My mind was spinning, but there was something in the way Yoongi looked at me, something that made it all feel right, even if it didn’t quite make sense yet. I took a step back, trying to catch my breath, still processing everything that had just happened. "What’s happening?" I asked softly, my voice a little unsteady. "Are you sure tomorrow you're not just going to act like none of this happened?"

Yoongi didn’t say anything right away. He seemed to be weighing my words carefully, like he was searching for the right response.

Then, he took a slow step forward, closing the distance between us once more. His eyes were intense, but there was a softness in them now, something that made me feel like I wasn’t just some passing thought. "Nah," Yoongi finally spoke, his voice low and steady. "Let me show you how much I've been stopping myself from anything happening."

Before I could process his words, his hands were on me again, pulling me back toward him with an urgency that caught me off guard. He kissed me again, this time it wasn’t rushed, but full of something more than just desire.

Yoongi’s hands were gentle yet firm as he backed me toward the living room, the heat of his body practically radiating against mine. I could feel my pulse quicken with every step he took. When my backside finally met the armrest of the sofa, a shock of electricity shot through me, my heart hammering in my chest.

He didn’t give me a moment to breathe before his hands were on me again, this time lifting me effortlessly, laying me down onto the sofa. I gasped slightly as I landed, and Yoongi followed, his body pressing over mine, his presence suffocating in the best way.

His eyes never left mine, and the way he hovered above me, his weight just barely touching me, made my stomach twist with anticipation. "Are you gonna tell me to stop, Y/N?" Yoongi's voice was rough, but there was something almost challenging in it. He leaned in slightly, the tip of his nose grazing mine as he waited for my response. "Or are you actually gonna admit how much you want this? That this is actually happening."

I swallowed hard, my mind swirling with conflicting thoughts. I was caught between every instinct screaming at me to push him away, to stop this before it went any further, and another side of me that wanted to give in, to feel everything he was offering without hesitation.

His lips hovered just inches from mine, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, making my heart race. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I just looked at him, trying to understand what this all meant.

The silence between us was almost suffocating now, the tension thick as I weighed my next move. Yoongi didn’t pull away, didn’t pressure me further. He just waited, giving me space, but still holding me in place with that unyielding gaze of his.

For a moment, I thought I might choke on the words I wanted to say. But the truth was, I already knew. I couldn’t deny it anymore.

"I—" My voice faltered, and I quickly cleared my throat, suddenly feeling exposed. "I want this," I admitted, the words coming out breathlessly, almost as if they were ripped from me. It was scary, letting the truth hang in the air between us, but it felt... necessary.

Yoongi’s eyes softened, just a little. He leaned down, his lips brushing against mine once more, but this time, it wasn’t a question. It was an answer, his answer to everything we had left unsaid.

Despite the clothes still between us, I wrapped my legs around his body, pulling him closer, craving more of the intimacy building between us. Yoongi’s voice was low and dripping with desire as he whispered, “Good, because I’ve been dying to know how you taste…”

Smirking, he lowered himself further, letting his breath ghost over my pants. My heart raced as I gave him a silent nod, granting permission. Slowly, he unzipped them, his movements deliberate and teasing. My breath hitched as he slid my pants down my legs, throwing them on the floor. Just as he hooked a finger under my panties to remove them, I gently stopped his hand.

“Wait…” I whispered, my voice shaky. Gathering what little confidence I had, I added, “It’s only fair you lose a piece of clothing too.”

His eyebrow quirked up in amusement. “Desperate to see me naked already, Y/N?” he teased.

“Huh, you’re the one who just claimed you’ve been dying to know how I—”

Before I could finish, Yoongi silenced me with a kiss, his lips rough and insistent, leaving me breathless. His tongue swept against mine, teeth grazing in just the right way. When he finally pulled back to let us catch our breath, he reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it over his head. Smirking, he stood before me, his torso now bare, revealing his defined muscles despite the soft lines of his body.

“There. Happy now?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

This man. Such a tease.

“Much better,” I quipped with a smirk of my own.

“Now, let me finish what I started,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine. “Let you experience my famous tongue technology...…” His lips quirked into a mischievous smile as he lowered himself between my thighs, his hands trailing down to hook under the waistband of my panties. He slipped them down with tantalizing slowness, his fingers brushing against my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Who calls—” I started, but the words dissolved into a gasp as his tongue made its first bold stroke, fast and deliberate, over my folds. My head fell back against the sofa, a moan escaping before I could even think to stop it.

He didn’t give me time to recover. His tongue moved again, sweeping over me with precision, eliciting another sharp cry. Each stroke was firm, purposeful, and maddeningly good. My body arched into him, instinctively chasing the pleasure he so expertly provided.

“Yoongi,” I managed to whisper, my voice shaky and strained, but he didn’t respond, not with words at least. Instead, his lips and tongue continued their relentless exploration, the wet heat of his mouth driving me to the edge of reason.

My hands shot to his hair, my fingers tangling in the soft strands, pulling lightly, not to guide him, but to ground myself. His name fell from my lips in fragmented pleas, each one blending into the next. His low hum of approval vibrated against me, sending an electric shock straight to my core.

He reached for one of my knees, pushing it further aside to open me up to him completely. His grip was firm yet gentle, and the shift only deepened the intensity of his attention. His tongue flicked, swirled, and teased, hitting every spot that made my body tremble.

The room was thick with the sound of my ragged breathing and unrestrained moans. Each cry seemed to fuel him, urging him on as his pace quickened. I gripped his hair tighter, the sensation building with every stroke. A hand reached for his shoulder, my nails grazing the smooth heat of his skin.

“Yoongi…” I whimpered, my voice shaky and raw, a desperate plea in the form of his name.

He pulled back briefly, his lips glistening as he looked up at me with a devilish smirk. “That was to answer your question,” he said, his voice rough with satisfaction. He ran his tongue slowly over his lips, collecting anything he’d missed, and the sight alone sent another wave of heat through me.

I couldn’t let him have the upper hand, not entirely. Tugging at his hair, I directed him back between my thighs. “Less talking,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper, “more doing.”

He chuckled low, the sound vibrating against me as he dove back in without hesitation. This time, his movements were even more determined, his tongue working with an intensity that made me cry out. My body writhed against him, my breaths coming in sharp, shallow gasps as I clung to him, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through me.

Yoongi’s hands gripped my thighs firmly, keeping me in place as he worked his magic. His tongue alternated between long, teasing strokes and quick, precise flicks, sending me spiraling closer to the edge.

He was relentless, unyielding, and devastatingly good. Too good. If he could do this with just his tongue, the thought of what else he could do made my head spin. The heat pooling low in my belly grew hotter, tighter, until it felt like I might combust.

“Yoongi,” I gasped, my voice breaking as my body tensed beneath his touch. “I think I’m gonna—”

“Cum on my mouth, baby,” he murmured against me, his voice low and commanding, the vibrations sending me over the edge.

I shattered, my release hitting me like a tidal wave. My back arched, my head falling back as his name tore from my lips in a broken cry. My vision blurred, and for a moment, all I could feel was the overwhelming heat of pleasure washing over me.

He didn’t stop, his tongue continuing to lap at me, drawing out every last tremor until I was trembling beneath him. When he finally pulled back, his face was smug, his lips glistening as he swiped his tongue over them again.

“You taste better than I imagined,” he murmured, and my cheeks flushed at his confession. How many times had this man fantasized about this? It wasn’t like I hadn’t entertained some dirty thoughts over the past weeks, but hearing him say it out loud, so unabashedly, felt different.

Before I could reply, Yoongi leaned back up and kissed me passionately, sharing the taste of myself on his lips. The kiss was deep and consuming, his tongue sweeping over mine with deliberate slowness. Then he trailed wet kisses down to my neck, biting softly, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make a point. It was possessive in the most exciting way.

As he toyed with the hem of my shirt, I decided to turn the tables. My hands moved to the waistband of his pants undoing his zipper. He froze for a moment, his eyes wide, searching mine. “Y/N… you don’t have to. Just because—”

“I want to,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the nervous flutter in my chest. His breath escaped in a shaky exhale at my words.

“Besides,” I teased, leaning in closer, my lips brushing against his ear, “let me show you what other sounds these hands can produce.”

I bit my bottom lip as I pulled his pants down completely, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. My hand brushed over him, his length already hard and straining against the fabric. My fingers lightly grazed over him, stroking just enough to tease. Yoongi hissed, a mix of pleasure and frustration.

“Y/N… don’t tease me,” he groaned, his voice thick with need.

“Me? Tease you?” I feigned innocence, grinning up at him as my hand continued its slow, deliberate motions. He let out a shaky breath, his hips instinctively bucking toward my touch.

I leaned up to capture his lips again, all while my hand maintained its slow, torturous rhythm. “Y/N…” Yoongi moaned, the sound low and drawn out. With that, I tugged his boxers down, his cock springing free and slapping against his stomach. My hand wrapped around him, the heat and hardness startling me for a moment. Pre-cum was already dripping from his tip, and I swiped my thumb over it, spreading it along his length as he trembled beneath my touch.

His hips instinctively bucked forward, chasing the friction as a low groan escaped his lips. My fingers moved deliberately, starting with slow, measured strokes that made his thighs tense beneath me.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely above a whisper, a strained mixture of need and restraint.

I leaned forward, brushing a kiss along his jawline before murmuring, “Relax.” My breath was hot against his skin, and I could feel the shudder it sent through his body.

One hand worked up and down his length, my palm twisting slightly with each stroke, while the other cupped and teased his balls, massaging them gently. His body responded to every touch, his muscles taut and trembling as he fought to stay in control.

“Fuck…” he groaned, his brows furrowed, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his chest heaved with uneven breaths.

The intimacy of it all had my own heart racing, my body reacting to the sight of him unraveling beneath me. My hand picked up speed, stroking him faster and firmer, my thumb gliding over his sensitive tip with each pass.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, his voice rough and breathless.

“Good,” I teased, leaning in to kiss his collarbone, my lips trailing over the sharp lines of his neck. “That’s the idea.”

His hips lifted again, chasing the rhythm of my hand. His groans deepened, each one more desperate than the last. The sounds he made were intoxicating, sending heat pooling low in my belly.

“Y/N,” he gasped, his voice cracking slightly. One of his hands reached out, gripping my thigh tightly as though he needed something to anchor himself.

Yoongi eyes fluttered open, locking onto mine with a fiery intensity. “I’m—”

“I know,” I cut him off softly, my hand never slowing.

His half-lidded eyes met mine, his skin glistening with sweat. “Where…?” he managed to ask, his voice barely audible.

I didn’t answer with words. Instead, I went to my knees and opened my mouth, holding his gaze. His expression faltered for a split second, a mix of desperation and awe flashing across his face.

Yoongi adjusted slightly, taking his cock in his own hand, his body hovering over mine, and with a few more strokes, he spilled into my mouth. I took everything, swallowing it down as I maintained eye contact. His breathing was ragged, and I could feel the slight tremble in his legs as I kissed the tip of his cock, making sure nothing was left behind.

When it was over, he sank down, his body pressing against mine. His lips found mine again, kissing me deeply, as if he couldn’t get enough.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against my shoulder, his voice soft but filled with satisfaction. “Fuck, you’re incredible.” Yoongi’s hand trailed lazily across my skin, finding the thin strap of my bra under my shirt. “Next time,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “I’ll make sure you’re not wearing anything at all.”

He hooked a finger under the strap, pulling it slightly before letting it snap back against my skin with a soft smack. I gasped, half-laughing, and swatted at his chest, but he just grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

With a satisfied sigh, he stood up, stretching slightly before scanning the room. His pants and boxers lay crumpled on the floor a few steps away. “As much as I love this view,” he teased, casting a lingering look at me sprawled on the sofa now, “we might want to at least partially dress before someone accidentally walks in.” Rolling my eyes, even though I lived alone, I reached down to grab my panties, slipping them on with a quick movement. “Happy now?” I quipped, arching an eyebrow as he smirked at me.

“Not entirely,” he shot back smoothly, already heading to the smaller sofa across the room. He grabbed the folded blanket and returned to the larger couch where I laid, tossing it over us as he sat back down and pulled me toward him.

“And why is that?” I teased, arching a brow as I snuggled into his chest.

He smirked, his arms wrapping securely around me as he scooped me into a comfortable position against him. His warmth enveloped me, and I felt myself relaxing despite my teasing words.

“Because, I’ve been messing up so far,” he said, his voice soft but firm, “ but I’m not letting you go away this time.”

I blinked, startled by the quiet sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t just a playful remark; it felt like a promise, one that made my heart flutter and my chest tighten all at once.

“You’re stuck with me now, Y/N,” he added, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Hope you can handle that.”

I couldn’t help but smile, burying my face against his chest to hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. “We’ll see,” I replied softly, my voice muffled away.

For the first time in a long while, I felt safe. Wrapped in his arms, I allowed myself to close my eyes, lulled by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his embrace.

***

The next morning, I woke up to an unsettling emptiness. The warmth of Yoongi’s embrace from last night was gone, replaced by the coolness of the sofa beneath me. Disoriented, I blinked against the soft morning light streaming through the curtains. Everything about last night had felt surreal—like the universe had finally shifted into place. But now, as I sat up and looked around the room, it all felt like a dream.

My gaze darted to the floor, where his shirt had been tossed haphazardly, and the hallway where his shoes had been kicked off. They were gone. Every trace of him had vanished. A sinking feeling settled in my chest.

Did he regret this? Was it a mistake for him?

I couldn’t stop the questions from flooding my mind, each one louder and more insistent than the last. For me, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not even close. Last night had been a moment of pure, unfiltered connection, a night that felt like it had shattered every barrier between us.

But had it meant the same to him?

Frustration began to bubble up, mixed with a touch of anger. If he had regrets, he should’ve said something. Leaving like this? That was low.

Determined not to let him get away with it, I marched to my room, pulling on a fresh pair of jeans and a casual shirt. If he thought he could disappear without a word, he had another thing coming. The moment I was tugging on my shoes, ready to storm out and demand answers, my phone buzzed on the coffee table.

I snatched it up, my frustration spilling over as I saw Minji’s name on the screen. Great, this better not be about work, I thought as I pressed the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I said curtly.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Minji’s tone was brisk but edged with concern.

“What do you mean?” I asked, more annoyed than curious.

Minji sighed heavily on the other end. “That’s good. You’re fine. I was worried for a second. Didn’t you hear? Someone raided HYBE last night. A crazy fan broke in and they believe they were trying to expose Suga’s album.”

“What?” I froze, my heart skipping a beat as her words sank in.

“Yeah, it’s all over the news this morning. Security’s gone into overdrive,” Minji continued. “Anyway, just wanted to check if you were caught up in any of it.”

“I have to go,” I said abruptly, hanging up before she could respond.

My mind raced. If HYBE had been raided and rumours about Yoongi’s album were true, then that meant he must be there. I grabbed my car keys and drove as fast as I could, keeping just within the speed limits. My mind buzzed with thoughts about Yoongi and everything Minji had said. Twenty minutes later, I pulled up in front of HYBE.

I stepped inside, my pulse quickening as I made my way through the familiar halls. When I reached the studio, I stopped in my tracks. Yoongi was pacing back and forth, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. He hadn’t noticed me yet, too absorbed in his conversation.

“Please make sure they’re caught and thoroughly questioned about what they saw,” he said, his tone firm but composed. Whoever he was speaking to replied, but I couldn’t make out the words.

Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I know we had contracts here. Honestly, I don’t care about the album, it’s going to get released soon anyway. What matters is that Producer K’s information stays protected. Make sure no sensitive details leak, okay?” He paused to listen again. “Alright. Call me as soon as you have any updates.”

As he ended the call, his gaze finally landed on me. I was frozen in place, trying to process the past 24 hours, the intimacy, the sudden emptiness when I woke up, and now this chaos.

“Hey,” I said, breaking the silence. “What’s going on?”

Yoongi’s expression softened when he saw me, but the stress in his posture remained. He sighed and motioned for me to sit down, but I stayed standing, waiting for answers.

“Someone broke into HYBE last night,” he began, his voice steady but laced with frustration. “They managed to get into a secure area. Luckily, nothing was taken, at least nothing physical, but there’s still a risk of leaks.”

I blinked, processing his words. “So… this morning—”

He cut me off with a sheepish smile. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve woken you up, but you looked so peaceful, and I didn’t want to disturb you. When I got the call, I panicked. I didn’t even think, I just grabbed my stuff and rushed over here. I had to make sure everything was locked down. The NDAs, your information, everything. But I think we’re okay. Nothing seems to have been compromised.”

My chest loosened at his explanation, relief washing over me. “So… you didn’t leave because you regretted it?” My voice came out quieter than I intended. “It felt like… maybe you didn’t care about anything that happened yesterday.”

Yoongi’s eyes widened, and he stepped closer to me, closing the distance between us in just a few strides. “Ahh, baby,” he said, his tone filled with disbelief. “Are you kidding me? How could I ever regret it?”

He leaned down and brushed his lips against mine, soft and lingering. The kiss was brief, but the warmth of it stayed with me. As he pulled back, he smirked, a playful glint in his eyes. Without another word, he scooped me up effortlessly, his hands firm on my thighs as he lifted me.

“Yoongi!” I squealed, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck.

“You’re stuck with me now,” he teased, his smirk deepening as he carried me toward the door. My back pressed against it as he gently pushed me, one of his hands leaving my body just long enough to twist the lock. The soft click echoed in the quiet room. His eyes flickered with something darker, more intense, as he leaned in closer.

“And don’t even think about doubting me again,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

Before I could respond, Yoongi moved us again, carrying me to the producer’s table, the one we’d spent countless hours working on together. He placed me on top of it, the cold surface pressing against my thighs. My body shifted slightly, the edge of the keyboard beneath me accidentally activating a few buttons with soft clicks and beeps.

A mischievous smirk spread across his face as he leaned over me, caging me in with his arms on either side. “Looks like we’re making more music, Producer K,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with amusement.

Immediately his lips captured mine, soft and demanding all at once. The kiss deepened almost instantly, his hand threading into my hair to tilt my head for better access. I gasped against his mouth as his other hand slid down, gripping my waist firmly to keep me anchored to him.

The kiss was electric, slow, and yet so full of intensity it left me breathless. His tongue brushed against mine, coaxing me into a rhythm that made my heart race. My hands found their way to his shoulders, then slid up behind his neck, pulling him even closer.

Yoongi let out a low hum of approval, the sound vibrating against my lips. The tension in the room grew thicker with every passing second. His teeth grazed my bottom lip, tugging gently before he soothed it with another kiss.

“You taste soo good,” he whispered against my mouth, his breath warm and tantalizing. He kissed me again, harder this time, as though he was trying to erase any lingering doubts from my mind.

“Are you going to fuck me or not?” I asked, my voice laced with impatience and desire. Enough with the teasing, I wanted him, here and now.

A smirk played on his lips as he looked at me. “Yes, right here on this table,” he murmured, his voice deep and full of promise. “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby.”

Slowly he reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. His dark eyes lingered on me as he kept his promise from the night before. He leaned down, gently biting one of my bra straps and pulling it down with his teeth, the act equal parts sensual and possessive. Then his hand slid the other strap off my shoulder, his fingers brushing over my skin in a way that sent shivers racing down my spine.

His hands unclasped my bra, letting it fall away completely. The cool air of the room ghosted over my now-bare skin, goosebumps forming in its wake. His gaze was hungry, appreciative, as he took me in.

He didn’t waste a moment, cupping both of my breasts in his warm hands. His thumbs brushed over my nipples, teasing them until they hardened under his touch. Leaning in, he wrapped his lips around one, his tongue swirling and flicking while his other hand kneaded the other.

A soft moan escaped my lips as my hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. My legs around his waist instinctively pull his body closer and flush against mine. The hardness of his arousal pressed against my clothed core, teasing me further.

Yoongi groaned softly against my skin, his breath hot as he alternated between kissing and sucking on my sensitive flesh. After a moment, he pulled back slightly, his lips glistening as he grinned down at me.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. He stood upright and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it off in one smooth motion.

The sight of his toned chest and the way his muscles moved as he tossed the shirt aside made my breath hitch. My hands instinctively trailed over his bare skin, feeling the heat of him beneath my palms.

He proceeded to slide my pants down along with my panties in one smooth motion, leaving me bare beneath him. My cheeks flushed as I turned my head to the side, shying away from his gaze. The reality of the moment hit me, this was happening, in the studio no less. Something I had never done before, especially not with a co-worker. I had always been professional, keeping clear boundaries. But Yoongi? He was different. He was so much more.

Before my thoughts could spiral further, two of his fingers gently grasped my chin, tilting my face back toward him. His dark eyes softened as they met mine, a faint smile curling his lips. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with genuine adoration.

He leaned down and kissed me deeply, his lips moving against mine with a passion that made me forget all my worries. When he pulled away, I was left breathless, my body trembling.

Without breaking eye contact, he stepped back and slid his boxers down, his cock springing free in a way that had my stomach tightening with need. He reached into a nearby drawer, pulling out a condom. The sight of him, so confident and focused, made my mouth water.

I whimpered softly, my body arching toward him. “Please…” I whispered, my voice trembling with desperation.

Yoongi smirked at my plea as he rolled the condom over his length slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. He moved closer, his cock teasing my entrance as he pressed the tip against me, applying just enough pressure to drive me wild.

Then he pulled back, a devilish grin on his lips.

“Yoongi!” I cried out, my hands gripping his shoulders in frustration. Yoongi chuckled softly at my frustration, his deep voice resonating in the quiet studio. “Patience, baby,” he teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “I want to savour this.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, but my body was anything but patient. My legs tightened around his hips, trying to draw him closer. He gave in just a little, letting his tip press further against my entrance, his cock teasing me.

“Please…” I whimpered again, my voice trembling.

“God, you’re so needy,” he murmured, but there was no mockery in his tone, only a mixture of desire and affection. He pressed forward slightly, just enough to stretch me, and the sensation made my breath hitch.

He paused, his hand brushing over my cheek. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his gaze searching mine.

“Yes,” I breathed, nodding. “I need you, Yoongi… all of you.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. Slowly, he pushed into me, his cock filling me inch by inch. The sensation was overwhelming in the best way, an exquisite mix of pleasure and pressure that made me gasp. My nails dug into his shoulders as he slid himself fully inside me, both of us pausing to catch our breaths.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his head dropping to my shoulder. His lips brushed against my skin, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses as he began to move.

The first few thrusts were slow and deliberate, his hips rolling against mine in a rhythm that made me lose all sense of time and place. My moans filled the room, blending with the soft sounds of his breathless grunts and the quiet creak of the table beneath us.

“Yoongi…” I gasped, my hands sliding down to his waist to pull him closer. His movements grew more intense, each thrust hitting deeper, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me.

His hand slid down to my thigh, lifting it higher to change the angle, and the new position made me cry out. “That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.”

I clung to him, my body arching into his as the tension built to an unbearable peak. Every movement, every touch, was driving me closer to the edge. His name fell from my lips in a breathless chant, and I could feel his body tensing too, his control slipping with each passing second.

“I’m close,” I managed to gasp, my fingers tangling in his hair as I pressed my forehead against his.

“Not so fast…” he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. In one swift motion, he pulled out completely, leaving me trembling and desperate for more. He grabbed my hips, pulling me down and guiding me to turn around. His hand on my back guided me to lean forward, making my chest press against the cool surface of the studio desk. I tried to make myself stable, hands roaming over the desk for support when I accidentally hit a button on the keyboard that sounded like the recording audio one.

“Yoongi, I think I—”

“Leave it on,” he growled, his voice dripping with lust. His hands ran down my sides, gripping my hips firmly as he aligned himself behind me. Without another word, he thrust into me again, harder this time, making me cry out in surprise and pleasure.

The new angle was overwhelming, his movements fast and relentless, each thrust sending shockwaves through my body. My hands scrambled for something better to hold on to, finding the edge of the desk as I felt my climax building faster than ever before.

“Yoongi,” I moaned, my voice trembling. “I’m going to—”

“Me too,” he groaned, his pace quickening. His fingers tightened on my hips, pulling me back to meet every thrust.

The tension inside me snapped like a rubber band, and I shattered around him, a cry escaping my lips as waves of pleasure consumed me. His name fell from my lips in broken gasps, my body trembling with the force of my release.

“Fuck,” Yoongi hissed behind me, his movements growing erratic as he followed me over the edge. With a low groan, he stilled, his hands gripping me tightly as he emptied himself into the condom.

We stayed silent for a moment, both of us catching our breaths as the studio filled with the sound of our laboured breathing. Yoongi’s hand slid up my back, his touch gentle now as he leaned down to press a soft kiss between my shoulders.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice softer than before, filled with a mix of affection and satisfaction.

I turned my head slightly to glance at him, a small smile tugging at my lips despite the lingering haze of pleasure. “You’re pretty perfect yourself,” I replied breathlessly.

His lips quirked into a smirk as he helped me straighten up, his hands still lingering on my waist. “You keep driving me crazy when there’s work to be done,” he said, his voice still low, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Work?” I teased, arching an eyebrow.

We both laughed softly, the tension replaced by a comfortable warmth as we started dressing up together. After fixing ourselves up, Yoongi and I sat back at the desk, quietly adjusting to the shift from intimacy to professionalism.

A sudden realization hit me like a bolt of lightning. My eyes widened as I glanced at the screen. The red "REC" light was still blinking, the audio still rolling.

"Wait," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, but my heart was racing. "Yoongi... the recording…"

Yoongi's gaze followed mine to the screen.

I stifled a laugh, trying to process the situation. "We... we didn’t just—"

"We did," he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he reached for the mouse, clicking the stop button on the recording. The sudden silence felt almost louder than the chaos that had just unfolded.

There was a long pause before either of us spoke, and then Yoongi burst into a fit of laughter, the tension completely evaporating. "I can't believe you hit the record by accident," he said between chuckles, shaking his head. "That’s... that's going to be something to remember."

I shook my head, laughing despite the embarrassment that was slowly creeping in. "Oh my god, I didn’t mean to! What if—what if someone listens to that? You have to delete it…"

Yoongi leaned back in his chair, still chuckling. "Relax, I’m pretty sure the only one who’s ever going to hear that is you... and maybe me, when I’m in need of some... inspiration."

I shot him a mock glare. "You’re terrible."

But the laughter between us continued, as if we’d both just acknowledged the absurdity of it all. "Alright, alright," I said, regaining some composure. "So, do we actually erase it... or keep it as a very private memory?"

Yoongi eyed the screen for a moment, a playful glint in his eyes. "I think we keep it," he said with a smirk. "Just in case we ever need to prove who’s really in charge around here."

I raised an eyebrow, a challenge in my smile. "I still have to work with you..."

Yoongi leaned closer, his smirk widening. "We can always record something else to balance it out."

My face flushed again, but this time, it was the shared humour that made the tension feel lighter. The teasing, the jokes, the way we were able to slip back into this comfortable space of banter, it made the moment feel normal again. *** As time passed, Yoongi and I quietly navigated our secret relationship, keeping things low-key while indulging in countless late-night dates after work. Between stolen moments in the studio, quick getaways to his place, and intimate sessions that blurred the line between work and personal time, we found our rhythm. Every touch, every kiss, every fleeting glance became a quiet promise, a bond that only grew stronger despite the secrecy. The sexual tension between us was undeniable, and we gave into it time and time again, the boundaries between us disappearing with every heated exchange. April 17 arrived, and Yoongi and I were standing in J-Hope’s living room. It was a quiet evening before the storm of emotions that would come the next day, J-Hope was leaving for the military, and Yoongi was going to see him off tomorrow. As much as I wanted to be there for the farewell, I knew I couldn’t. Not yet. My identity had to still stay hidden, my relationship with Yoongi too, at least for now.

Yoongi caught my eye from across the room, a soft smile playing at his lips as he walked over to where I was standing by the window. "You okay?" he asked quietly, concern flickering in his gaze.

I forced a smile, trying to hide the tension I felt. "Yeah, just thinking about tomorrow," I said, glancing over at J-Hope, who was still chatting with some of the others in the room. "You’re going to see him off right?"

"Of course," Yoongi replied, his voice warm but heavy with the realization that things were changing. "He’s my brother. I’m not going to let him go without saying goodbye properly."

I nodded, feeling a pang of longing. "I wish I could be there, but... you know why I can’t."

"I know," Yoongi murmured, squeezing my hand. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "It’s just... it’s tough for both of us, huh?"

I nodded again, my chest tight. "Yeah. It’s not just about J-Hope going. It’s about the secrecy, the not being able to show anyone who we are... it gets exhausting."

Before Yoongi could respond, J-Hope called out from across the room, his voice teasing. "Yoongi, Y/N! You two are awfully quiet over there. What’s going on?"

I looked up and forced a grin, trying to act casual. "Nothing, just—"

J-Hope walked over with a playful glint in his eyes, crossed his arms. "You know, I’ve always seen the tension between you two," he said with a teasing smirk. "That’s why I kept pushing Y/N to hang out with me when Yoongi was around. I had to give him a little nudge."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by J-Hope’s words. "Really? You were the one pushing her?"

I laughed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "Well, it worked, didn’t it?"

J-Hope chuckled, but his smile softened as he looked between the two of us. "I get it now. You two are like an open secret. But listen," he continued, his tone more serious, "tomorrow, when I’m gone, make sure you both take care of yourselves. Yoongi, I know you’ll look after her. And Y/N, be good to him, alright?"

I nodded, the words heavy in my chest. "I will. You just... you just be safe, okay? Come back to us soon."

Yoongi echoed my sentiment, his voice steady and sincere. "Take care of yourself, man. We’ve got your back. Always."

J-Hope smiled at us both, his eyes a mixture of gratitude and affection. "I know. Thanks, guys. I’ll miss you both."

*** The next day, after Yoongi returned from seeing J-Hope off, we somehow managed to finish the last track just before the deadline. It felt like a weight lifted off our shoulders. The album, which had been months in the making, was finally ready, set to release on April 21st with nine tracks. It was a huge achievement, and that night, we celebrated in typical Yoongi fashion, with whiskey at his place, and, well, sex. The kind of passionate, no-holds-barred kind that made me forget about the stress of the last few months.

The following days leading up to the album release were a whirlwind. We couldn't spend much time together, since Yoongi had a full schedule of promotional activities. Meanwhile, I was at home, taking the rare opportunity to relax and mentally prepare for the next project Minji had set up for me. Life was moving quickly, and I knew the grind would start again soon.

That night, as I was settling into my evening routine, my phone buzzed with a notification. Yoongi's live stream was about to start. He had mentioned earlier that his company would have him livestream his full album for his fans to celebrate the release. I was excited, though admittedly a little nervous to hear how the tracks we worked on together sounded to the public.

I clicked on the stream and watched as Yoongi greeted his fans, his usual cool demeanor giving way to the warmth of being surrounded by people who admired his work. I listened closely as he played the first six songs, the ones he had worked on solo. Each track was a piece of his soul, his sound so distinct and raw. Then came the three songs we collaborated on, and I couldn’t help but smile. Hearing them in front of thousands of fans was surreal, but in a way, it felt like we were still connected. Every note, every lyric felt like a reflection of the quiet moments we shared, the time we spent creating together.

As the ninth track played, I expected the stream to wrap up, but then Yoongi’s voice came through again. It was softer this time, almost like he wasn’t sure if he should say the words that were coming.

“This last song is a very last-minute addition to the album,” he began, his tone low and a little more introspective. “Making this album have a total of 10 tracks. I felt like this album was missing something... and this track summarizes everything that’s been going on with me lately. It’s called SDL.”

I froze, heart pounding in my chest. I hadn’t known about this last-minute addition to the album. I thought everything had been finalized. But here he was, introducing a track that was somehow more personal than any of the others. My stomach tightened as the beat dropped, and the chorus rang out:

"Yeah, somebody does love

But I'm thinking 'bout you."

The lyrics hit me like a wave, each word carrying a weight that I couldn’t ignore. It felt so raw, so vulnerable. Before I could process it all, I grabbed my stuff and rushed out the door. I knew Yoongi would still be at HYBE, where the livestream was taking place. Without thinking twice, I jumped into my car, determined to get there. The song had caught me completely off guard, and I needed to see him. I needed to understand what this song really meant.

It wasn’t just a track—it was a message. A message that had left me reeling, and I wasn’t going to wait to figure it out. I arrived at HYBE, my heart still racing from the drive. As I stepped out, I caught sight of Jihoon leaving the building, and without thinking, I called out to him.

"Is Yoongi still here?"

"Yeah, last time I saw him, it was just a few minutes ago at the studio," Jihoon replied casually. I didn't even say goodbye as I ran inside toward the studio, my mind set on finding Yoongi. When I reached the door and pushed it open, I could tell it wasn’t the same as the first time we met, where his eyes had been skeptical and full of surprise. This time, when our eyes met, I saw something completely different, softness, warmth, and love.

I closed the door behind me and moved closer to him, my breath still catching up from the run.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Yoongi asked, his voice laced with concern. He came to me, his hands instinctively reaching up to fix my hair, his touch gentle as he noticed my flustered state.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. "That last song, I saw your live... where did that come from? I thought the album had only 9 tracks."

Yoongi paused, his hands lingering in my hair as he gave me a soft smile. "As I said on the live, that song is what’s been going on in my head these past couple of months."

I raised an eyebrow, still trying to piece it together. "So, you mean to tell me... I’m your inspiration?"

He nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. "Yes. You know I’m not great with my feelings, and better than anyone, you understand how hard it is for me to express myself. With everything that’s been going on between us lately… I thought this would be the clearest way to show you how I feel, the way we know best: through music."

“Why didn’t you play it for me before? In private?” I asked, my voice soft but laced with curiosity.

“I wanted it to be a surprise, like a big romantic gesture that only we would recognize,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. “I felt like I needed to redeem myself for how I acted at the start. To be honest, we were so good together that I’m sure we could’ve finished those tracks in less than a month. But I kept being a jerk, nit-picking everything just so we’d have to restart. It was selfish, but I wanted to steal every last minute with you. You walked into this studio and captured my heart and soul with everything you are, and I wasn’t ready to let that go so easily.”

His words hit me with full force, my heart pounding in my chest as the weight of his confession settled. I stepped closer, my emotions bubbling to the surface, and before I could think or say anything more, my lips found Yoongi’s. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if I were trying to tell him everything I couldn’t put into words. It was a kiss full of everything: love, apology, understanding, and a promise for more. We didn’t need more words, just the closeness, the music, and the quiet understanding between us. The kiss deepened, and in that moment, we both knew: this was just the beginning.

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hwaslayer · 2 days ago

Text

wildfire (cs) | seven.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 5.3k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, girlies we are lying straight through our teeth.. 😭, we also got door code privilege so we can talk to professor choi about neuroscience papers in private more often!! 😙, making out, a shower together ouweeee, blowjob, handjob, swallowing his cum, more cute affectionate moments, watching a movie together and being domestic af basicallllly

—a/n: i just wanna say tysm for being down bad for prof choi as much as i am <33 ily!! there will be a 7.5! & tsbut!yunho will make his debut soon.. 👀

—FLASHBACK

The walk back to your building isn't that bad, especially when most people aren't quite up and about just yet. San drops you off in the same residential area, watching through his rearview mirror as you make the trek back. When he sees you enter through the side door, he pulls off and drives around to the usual garage he parks at for the day.

You make it back to your studio unnoticed, slipping in with ease and heading straight to the shower to get ready for your day. The events from last night replay over and over again in your head and you can't help but smile to yourself knowing how well San took care of you.

You long for him.

After a good, long shower to soothe your body, you try your best to go about your morning as normal as possible. You quickly dry your hair and dab on some blush, mascara, brow gel, and lip gloss— keeping it light before throwing on some baggy straight jeans, an oversized crewneck and a pair of 530 New Balances. The moment you slide your laptop into your bag, Felix comes knocking on your door.

"Morning sunshine!" He smiles. "What time did you get back from lab last night?"

"Not too late. Sunwoo dropped me off before heading to his place." You give him a toothless smile, hoping he'd buy it. And he does.

"Oh, cool. Glad it didn't seem too bad and that he was there to accompany you." You sling the strap of your back over your shoulder, swinging your door shut before locking it. You follow Felix down the hall and head down to the dining hall to grab breakfast; except, you aren't hungry.

"Eunchae and Jurin are still asleep, huh?" You nod.

"Yeah, they won't get up for breakfast anyway." You laugh, knowing the two will probably get up right before class, giving themselves enough time to grab coffee on the way over at one of the cafes.

"Yeah, Jiung is fucking knocked out." You giggle. "Anyway, wonder what special they have for breakfast today."

"I'm actually not hungry."

"Not hungry? For breakfast?" Felix looks at you weirdly. "Since when? It's your favorite meal of the day."

"I dunno, I'm still full from last night. I ate pretty late." Felix shrugs.

"Well okay, then. I'm just gonna grab something real quick and eat it on the go."

"No, we can stay and eat. I'll probably just grab some fruit." Felix looks at you with a brow cocked up, watching as you fiddle with the strap of your bag.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He presses his hand to your forehead gently. "You're not feeling sick, are you?"

"No." You look at him with a small, reassuring smile. "I promise."

"Okay then." He shrugs, no longer questioning you about your appetite this morning even though the tiny change in mannerism is enough to have Felix wondering what's been going on with you. Maybe it's just a phase, maybe you are just overwhelmed like Jiung says.

He won't ask, though. He'll let you come to him if you need him.

At least, you look happy. There's a certain glow to you that he can't pinpoint.

—END

"School is awful." Jurin puts her head down to rest her eyes for a second. "I feel like I'm a robot, moving nonstop."

"Tell me about it." Felix yawns. "I have to TA in a few." Felix looks at his watch and hums. "Hm, I'll leave in like.. 5 minutes."

"You know, I actually enjoy TAing!" Eunchae pops a grape into her mouth.

"Honestly, I do too. It's pretty fun." You chime in, taking one of her grapes.

"Same, especially when the class knows how to interact. Otherwise, I kinda just stand there and look dumb." Jiung snorts. At this moment, your phone dings from an email. You furrow your brows when you notice it's coming in from the department, stating that your TA hours were gonna be split with Jeong Yunho's class.

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Hi Y/N, Hope this email finds you well! I'm emailing you to let you know there's been a change with your TA assignment. Half of your hours will be split between Professor Hsieh and Professor Jeong, effective immediately. Professor Jeong's TA needed to take leave for a family emergency and will not be returning for the remainder of the quarter. He should be emailing you soon to discuss a little further, but please feel free to reach out in the meantime if you have any questions or need any clarification. Thank you, Erika

"What's wrong?" Jiung looks at you as you read through the email.

"Uh. Speaking of TAing, I just got an email saying some of my hours are going to Professor Jeong's class. His TA needed to take leave for the rest of the quarter cause of a family emergency."

"Oh, damn. Hope they're okay." Jurin says. "Isn't that cool to be helping him now too, though?"

"Yeah, I guess." You lie because no, it's not. You'll obviously keep it civil and do what you need to do. But at the same time, you don't respect him the same way you used to. You don't care if you're biased over San— you just don't do that to people you claim to love. "It'll be interesting." There's a slight pause in conversation until Felix chimes in again.

"It'll be fun, I'm sure you'll learn new things from him just like you're doing with Professor Hsieh and Professor Choi." Your heart skips a beat thinking about San, and you realize you really need to keep yourself under wraps better before you slip up and start smiling like a fucking idiot around your friends.

And knowing them, they'd never leave it alone if you give them even the slightest hint of something going on.

"Mhm." Is all you manage to say.

"What're you guys doing this weekend?" Jiung squints at all of you. "Should we head out if you're all here?"

"I think I'm gonna be gone on Sunday during the day, but I'll be back later that evening." Jurin says.

"I'm gonna head home tonight and just hang out with my mom for the weekend." You poke at your salad before forking it and taking it a bite. You also avoid eye contact because it's a lie, and you won't be seeing your mom. You'll be at San's.

"Okay, so we aren't hanging out this weekend." Jiung snorts.

"Yeah, I think my cousin is gonna come down to visit and sleep over." Eunchae says. "We'll probably go out and head around."

"Just us boys again! We should throw a little kick-it at the apartment and keep it lowkey." Jiung adds, with Felix nodding. "Eunchae, you can bring your cousin if you guys aren't too tired."

"Yeah! We'll swing by if we have the energy." She turns to you. "What're you gonna be doing with your mom?"

"Just hanging out, relaxing." Jiung nods.

"Nice you're spending more time with your mom." You give him a toothless smile and quietly nod.

"Alright, I gotta head out. I might even be a little late." Felix laughs. "See ya'll for dinner later? Y/N if I don't see you before you go, please drive home safely and enjoy your weekend with your mom!"

"Thank you, Lix." You smile and tuck your things into your bag. "I should probably go too, actually. I should wrap things up sooner than later." Jurin, Eunchae and Jiung begin to pack their own things as well, waving their goodbyes as you all split to different ways; some going back to lab, to class, some going to the library to finish some assignments before the weekend rolls around so they don't have to worry about it.

You walk to the Harvey Center with a slight pout, unsure of how to feel being thrown into Yunho's class. Truthfully, it could be worse. You don't know what you'd do if you somehow had to work alongside of Iseul. You're still praying and hoping you don't ever have to collaborate with her, and this is probably all sorts of fucked up because it's based on your feelings for San. You can agree that they are both great professors— their work and contributions are widely known. You don't doubt that you'd learn something new from them. However, you just can't get past the idea that they did what they did to San. You can never fathom betrayal like that.

You sigh.

You can't wait to tell San about this.

As promised, Yunho emails you and asks if he can set up a time to talk and catch you up on everything that's been happening in class so far. He asks if he can see you before the day ends so that you're good to go by the time next week comes.

To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Hi Y/N, I think you might've received the email from Erika already about the change in your TA hours. Thank you in advance for your help, and I'm excited to have you onboard! Do you have some time before end of the day to quickly meet and go over the course? I can bring you up to date on where we're at. I'm on the east wing of the Harvey Center, room E122. Let me know what's good for you and I'll carve out the time. Thanks! Yunho

"You look unhappy." Sunwoo says as he plops down in the empty chair next to your desk, watching as you stare at the email through your laptop. "What's wrong?" You snap out of it and chuckle.

"Nothing." You pause. "Well actually, I'm short on time today so I might not get much done. I'll come in over the weekend if needed."

"Dude, it's fine. Take your weekends." He chuckles. "Why, though? Is everything okay?"

"Mhm. My TA hours are just getting rearranged."

"Oh, more or less?"

"Hm. I'm cutting down on Professor Hsieh's since she has two other TAs, and those hours will go to Professor Jeong instead."

"Oh, cool. That'll be a fun class! I've heard good things about it."

"Yeaaaah. I have to go meet him before the end of the day." You start typing your response to Yunho, letting him know 4:30pm was the best time for you— that way, you still have time to get through some of your work before heading out. Coincidentally, at this point, San walks into the office area, along with three other people. They're conversing in good spirits, and they make a turn towards your direction to head to the small conference room situated near your desk.

"Yo, what's up Professor Choi!" Sunwoo nods.

"Hey Sunwoo." He smiles at him before looking at you. "Y/N." He subtly licks his lips and smirks, returning his attention back to the group as if it never left. You almost forget about Yunho entirely.

He'll be the death of you.

"I'm going to work on some data analysis before I see him. I don't think I'll have time to slice and image today." Sunwoo shrugs.

"All good. We have time next week in between surgeries."

"Don't remind me." You smile at him playfully.

"Assuming you'll listen and take my advice about not coming in on the weekends unless absolutely necessary, what do you have planned?"

"Mm, just hang out with my mom. What about you?"

"One of my good friends is visiting so I'll be taking him around and letting him sleep on my couch." You snort.

"Sounds fun."

"Alright, I'm gonna finish some imaging from the slicing we did earlier in the week." You nod and wave. "Have fun at your meeting with Professor Jeong, and have a good weekend!"

"You too, Sunwoo." You give him a toothless smile before returning your attention to the data on your laptop. You spend a good few minutes typing out your analysis, only turning when you hear San's voice as he passes by. He gives you a small, tiny smile before returning his attention to the group, walking out of the basement to who knows where.

You continue to keep your head down, bouncing between small assignments and your data analysis up until the very end. When 4:20pm hits, you quickly pack up your things and head out, giving the basement one last look. San hasn't returned after leaving with the group, so you assume he's busy for the rest of the afternoon until he heads home. You let out a small sigh, power walking over to the east side of the building. You tap your badge and hold your breath, hoping the badge reader will turn green and pop the door open; which, to your luck, it does. You follow the room numbers until the end, finding Yunho's office in the corner towards the back end of the first floor. You press your ear to the door, making sure there isn't an ongoing meeting before you knock. Once it's clear, you give his door a good, hard three knocks, not even having to wait for Yunho to respond with a 'come in!'

"Hey!" Yunho smiles at you as you walk in, and you give him a simple, toothless smile. "Nice to see you again!" He's standing, just about to slip a book back onto the shelf next to him.

"Hi Professor Jeong. It's nice to see you again, too."

"Please, take a seat. I'm just kinda fiddling through books right now."

"Are you working on something in particular?" You gently set your bag down and watch as he grabs another book off of the shelf and sets it down on his desk. The book has different images of the mouse brain— the anatomy, from different angles.

"Ah, I'm just trying to make sense of some images, that's all." He smiles again at you. There's no denying that Yunho is also very attractive. He's charming in his own way, very witty and outgoing. You see him bouncing around campus pretty often, with or without Iseul in tow.

"I see."

"How's your day been?"

"It's been alright. Had two classes before I finished up work in San's—" You pause. "Professor Choi's lab."

"That's right, you're rotating in his lab this quarter?"

"Mhm."

"How's it been?"

"Amazing." You tilt your head and he nods.

"That's good. He's a good guy. If it's anybody you'll learn the most from, it's him."

"Yeah, I agree wholeheartedly." You chuckle to play it off a bit. "So.. I'm sorry to hear about your TA. I hope things are alright with them."

"Hope so, too. I'm just glad they're taking the time they need." He pulls out a copy of his syllabus and slides it over. "You're probably familiar with the format since Professor Hsieh follows a similar one. I usually do about 4 lectures and take care of finals at the end. I've got about three other professors doing guest lectures, and one of our postdocs handles the hands-on lab portion and some other classes." You skim the document. "My TAs usually handle journal club-led discussions. I'll pop in for a few if I can, but I let my TAs have the floor." You nod.

"Oh yeah, this is similar to Professor Hsieh's class. Shouldn't be too bad." You continue to flip through the syllabus.

"No. It shouldn't be." He chuckles. "I may need you to assist with one of my lectures and labs, too."

"Okay, no problem."

"I'll send you the journal club papers and add you to our discussion board. They'll submit assignments and post any questions there, and we can upload lecture or reading material there as well. You can set up office hours for however you'd like, whatever works easiest for you. Just let me know what day you decide to do it."

"Sounds good." You look at him, and he looks at you. You can see the way his brow subtly cocks up before he lets out a small laugh. He's probably unsure why it feels a little tense when trust, you're trying your hardest to not let it slip.

"Any questions? Feeling overwhelmed?"

"No, I'm—" The door suddenly swings open and it's Iseul. Her eyes land on you for a quick second before she diverts her attention back to her husband and apologizes for interrupting. "I'm good, I think we're all set here." You stand and grab your bag. "Thanks, Professor Jeong. I'll see you next week?" He nods.

"Alright, well feel free to reach out if anything comes up. Have a great weekend, Y/N."

"You too." You give him a short and curt bow before slipping past Iseul. You feel her eyes on you as you pass by, up until the very moment you slip out the door.

And finally, it feels like you can breathe.

"Is that your new TA?"

"Y/N, yes." He stands to give her a hug and kiss on the top of the head.

"She looks familiar."

"Well, she's in the bioengineering department and has rotated in Christopher's lab. She's in San's now."

"Hm." She hums. "Interesting." There's something about you that rubs her the wrong way and she's quick to trust her gut. It's not that she doesn't trust you around Yunho, no. But, she doesn't know you and something already feels weird.

"So, hungry? Where should we go for dinner?" He sits back down while Iseul leans against his cabinet behind him, scrolling through her phone.

"I'm feeling sushi tonight."

"That sounds good. Let me finish this up real quick and I'll get you out of here, okay?" He squeezes her hip before returning his attention back to the images on his screen.

After you meet with Yunho, you walk back straight to your studio to pack up for the weekend. You wash up and grab a few things, changing into comfier clothes per usual. When you leave, you shoot San a quick text, waving goodbye to a few friends you run into on your way out.

you: i'm about to head to your house!

san: sorry baby, just wrapping things up but i'll be there ASAP. feel free to get comfy and do whatever you need to do. code to the door is 9583.

you: waoow i have door code access now 🤭

san: lol you sure do, pretty girl. i'll see you soon, okay?

you: mmkay, hurry ☹️

San smiles to himself as he sets the phone down and powers through a few more tasks. When you get to San's house, you park off to the curb and head straight inside, hoping to avoid any confrontation with neighbors at this moment. You slip in and step out of your shoes, sighing a sigh of relief when you've made it safely. You head upstairs to drop your things, noticing San's bed fixed nicely. Rings spread across the drawer, cologne lightly lingering in the air.

You can't wait for him to get home.

You head back downstairs and turn on the tv for background noise, lighting up a candle on the island. You take a few moments to snack on some fruits before you [slowly] start prepping ingredients for dinner, scrolling through Instagram and getting lost in the social media rabbit hole. You lazily walk over to San's fridge and quickly skim the shelves to see if there's any ideas that'll pop up for dinner. He's got just enough groceries, but nothing too overwhelming. You walk over to the pantry, also taking your time to skim the shelves. The TV is unexpectedly playing a show on unsolved mysteries, which distracts you to a great extent as you hang out beneath the door frame of the pantry.

"Hm." You pull up random recipes in between glancing at the tv. It isn't long before you hear the garage door open, the soft, muffled audio creeping through the walls. San walks in shortly afterwards, airpod in one ear while taking a meeting on Zoom through his phone.

"Yeah, I know. I agree. Maybe they should work on it together and try a different approach? Have you asked Russ to try some computational analysis on their data?" Is all you hear him say as he walks into the kitchen with a smile on his face seeing you there. You reciprocate the smile and wrap your arms around his neck, waiting for the right moment to kiss him and welcome him home. "Mhm." He says before muting himself. "Hi baby."

"Hi." You tippy-toe to kiss him, allowing San to deepen the kiss despite his Zoom call still going on in the background. "San." You giggle in between, pointing at his phone.

"They don't need me right now." He chases after your lips, hands sliding from the small of your back down to your ass and giving it a good squeeze. You squeal, indulging in a few more seconds of kissing San— fingers tangled in the ends of his hair, gently biting onto his bottom lip and causing him to hiss in response just as you pull away.

"Go finish up your meeting."

"Tease." He mouths out before unmuting himself. "Yeah, I'm here. I hear you." He keeps his eyes on you with a small smirk. He points upstairs, mouthing out a quick 'i'll be in my office.' You nod, giving him one last peck on the lips before he disappears up the steps. You rummage through his fridge to grab those mushrooms, bokchoy, and tofu he had sitting around to whip up a quick udon stir fry. Before chopping up your ingredients, you let the udon sit in a hot water bath while you pop in some shrimp tempura you found in his freezer in the air fryer. Once the noodles are ready, you toss them in as you fry the vegetables, along with your wet ingredients— whipping everything up in a matter of 25 mins.

After his meeting, San quickly finishes some emails and follows up on a few pending items before calling it a day. He's trying to balance his time better now that you're around because the last thing he wants to do is make the same mistake again of unintentionally pushing someone he cares about away. And it's a little scarier this time, a little different, because San feels himself falling deep [and fast] for you. He doesn't wanna run you off or scare you in any way, and he surely doesn't want a repetition of his last, but he truly cares about you and wants this to work no matter how tough it might be.

He just wants you.

He sighs when the thoughts flood his head, locking his computer and setting his things aside. Since he hears you whipping up dinner, he heads to the room to change and quickly shower. He tosses his clothes into the laundry and steps in, leaving the bathroom door cracked open. When you head up the stairs after making dinner, you find San drenched underneath the piping hot water. Steam is rising out of the shower and into its surroundings, fogging up the mirrors. You watch for a few moments through his bathroom mirror— catching 'lil peeks and admiring his pretty, honey-dipped skin, wet black hair. You find the sudden urge to join him, to just be with him, and before you can even think twice, your feet are already taking you to San. You tread over in front of the shower door, San curiously looking at you with a small smile on his face. His eyes are glued to you while he watches you strip down in front of him, beautifully bare and raw. He pops the door open for you to step in, hands instantly coming to your waist to pull you flush against him.

"Wasn't expecting you to join."

"Thought we could save some water."

"Yeah?" He laughs. "I'm not mad about it." You tippy-toe to peck him on the lips. He doesn't let you go, though. He deepens the kiss, tongues fighting for dominance slowly, sensually. His hands are roaming all over your body, giving your breasts a good squeeze. You moan, the need, desire, to please San becomes overwhelming. He lets out a small sigh when he feels your hand wrap around his hard cock, his breathy moan causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. Your lips press chaste kisses down the column of his neck, tongue swiping across the surface before you gently nibble. You're careful not to leave any marks, softly sucking on the base of his neck, collarbone; just enough to make him feel a way without having the proof littered on his skin.

"Fuck, princess." He chokes out. "Feels so damn good already." You pick up the pace as you continue to stroke him, slowly crouching down to come eye level with his member— kissing and sucking away at his angry, red tip to start it off. Your tongue swipes from the base upwards, pressing tiny kisses across the surface. "Don't be such a tease." He pouts as he watches from above. You smirk, taking half of him inside your mouth. You work your hand at the same time you bob up and down, pulling back with a pop. The string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his tip drives him insane, his hand coming to the back of your head to slowly guide you down his length the next time you've stuffed your mouth full of him. "Doing so well, love. You can take all of me, yeah?" You nod. He feels you gag when he eases it all down your throat, causing San to groan a little louder— the tone echoing off the bathroom walls. He keeps his cock down your throat, determining on his own terms when he'll give you time to catch your breath, take a breather. When he pulls your head back, you look up at him with those doe-eyes. And it goes from one moment of sticking his cock back down your throat, to the next moment of you constantly bobbing your head; sucking him off so fucking well.

"Aw—fuck—" San hisses before moaning loudly. "So fucking sexy, baby. Made just for me." He breathes out. "Fuck, fuck— gonna cum—" It takes that one last moment of taking him fully before San keeps your head there as he shoots his cum down your throat. When he's finished, you slowly pull back and wipe at your mouth, throat feeling all sorts of sore and battered but you could careless.

As long as you made San feel good, that's all you wanted.

"Okay, maybe we need to finish up in here."

"Do we have to?" San smirks, hands rubbing at your waist. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Just wanted to make you feel good, Sannie." The nickname rolls of your lips so naturally San feels his heart soar. It just feels like you were meant to say it, like you're the only person on this Earth that is deserving of so. San doesn't even realize he's still smiling down at you until you kiss him on the lips tenderly and finally taking the lead with getting washed up.

When you get back downstairs, San still can't keep his hands off of you. You sit on the edge of the counter while San washes a few of his containers from lunch. After he finishes, he slots himself in between your legs, admiring you from where he stands. You wrap your arms around his neck while his hands are resting on your thighs. He presses cute, repeated kisses along your chin and jaw, causing you to giggle.

"So, I forgot to tell you. I got an email from the department today about my TA assignment."

"Is everything okay?"

"I think so."

"You think?"

"I, um." You look at San. "Some of my TA hours are going to Yunho. I had to meet with him really quickly earlier."

"Oh. That's cool, baby." You shake your head and he chuckles. "No?"

"No."

"Don't think about the things that happened. He's still a great professor and someone you'll learn a lot from." You scoff.

"Like what, how to be a bad, homewrecking bestfriend?"

"Baby." He smirks a bit and gently pokes your nose. "Don't do that."

"You're right, sorry." You roll your eyes playfully. "He is cool, I guess." He chuckles.

"Promise me you won't let your feelings get in the way, hm? Look at him as a professor, not from what you know about me." Truthfully, San is a little afraid that you'll be working closely with Yunho now. Not because he's insecure, no. But, working with Yunho meant there was a chance he'd learn more about you. And obviously San wouldn't hide your relationship if he didn't have to, for the sake of rules, policy, his lab, Namjoon even. The fear is stemming from his past, coming back to haunt him all over again. He doesn't trust either of them one bit.

"I should be looking at you as just a professor too, you know?" You tease.

"Oh yeah? Wonder what happened there."

"Kinda like you better like this, though." You giggle, allowing San to swoop you into his arms. You cling on, wrapping your legs and arms around him while he walks you to the couch and sits you on his lap.

"Damn, so the whole professor charm didn't do much?"

"Kidding." You laugh.

"Your laugh is so cute." San says, looking up to you all smitten. He rubs at your sides, kissing you sweetly before he's back to just smiling at you.

"What, no?"

"Yeah."

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"You're just so beautiful, that's all." You smile. "Hm, so. What do you wanna watch? What do you wanna do this weekend since I have you all to myself?"

"Well, we can watch something cute? Because I've been watching this and it's making my mind work overtime with all the possibilities." You look back at the TV and San chuckles.

"I thought you liked stuff like that, baby."

"I do, but tonight, I just wanna relax."

"Fair enough. I'll watch whatever movie you wanna watch."

"Even if its A Walk to Remember or The Notebook?" He nods, bottom lip poking out.

"I don't mind."

"Wow, you're a little too perfect." He laughs.

"Far from it, actually."

"And, I don't know. I'm down for whatever this weekend."

"I'll take you around some places away from here."

"Sounds good with me."

"Let's grab our dinner and watch a movie?" He kisses you once more before tapping you on the hip. "Thank you for making dinner, angel."

"Of course." You smile and hop off his lap. You fill your bowls with the udon stir fry and tempura you made, laughing and joking around mid-convo with San as you both walk back to the couch while he's telling you about his day. You pop on the classic Titanic, not really in the mood for anything else popping up on Netflix. San compliments you on dinner, smothering you in more kisses all over your face. You joke about how he didn't have much to work with, so maybe grocery shopping needed to go on your list for this weekend's festivities.

When you're done with dinner, San cleans up in the kitchen while you continue to watch away on the couch, answering to a few texts in between until San comes back to keep you company. Mid-movie, his phone dings, signaling a text coming through.

It's Jongho.

jongho: trying to play tennis this weekend? me and yeosang were thinking about going to the courts then hanging out at his house after.

jongho: chris is gonna be busy with his sister this weekend so he's out

jongho: and i asked mingi but i don't think he wants to play lol

san: sorry my guy! sounds fun but i'll be occupied with some things this weekend.

jongho: like what??

san: i'm just behind on a few things, needa wrap it up before the NAS conference.

jongho: hm ok, well the invite is there if things change!

san: thanks! have fun lol

And with that, San locks his phone and continues to watch the movie while your head is on his lap. He looks down at you and smiles a bit to himself, his hand coming down to thread through your hair and give you a gentle head massage. He feels a bit guilty for lying to Jongho, but at the same time, he doesn't.

He's content, he's happy.

Right now, things couldn't feel any more perfect and he'd be damned if he did anything to mess it up.

—read 7.5 here

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thespiffynerd @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world

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niceonejames7 · 1 day ago

Note

the sirius watermelon fic was SO CUTE I NEED A PART TWO OF THEM GETTING TOGETHER

watermelon pyjamas pt.2

sirius finally tells you how he feels. (the classic angry confession trope) part 1

words: 1.7k

genre: literally idiots™ to lovers, roommate!sirius, hurt/comfort(?), confession, lil angst, ends with fluff.

a/n: guys this is like my first ask. eeeek! thanks for requesting and reading<3

.....

“I’m an idiot”

“You're gonna have to elaborate."

“James, please."

Sirius wasn't sure if he would classify this as a bad day. Realising he's in love with you wasn't the worst thing that could happen to him, but hearing James gloat about how right he had been was.

He had managed to avoid you that evening, even the next day, internally panicking over what to do. But he was home in the evening, ignoring that stupid warm feeling in his chest when he saw your shoes in front of the door.

He entered the room, and sighed.

I'm fucked.

“Did you buy fruit themed pyjamas?" Sirius asked, his eyes moving over the cherry printed clothing. He was annoyed, not at you, mostly at himself. He couldn't find a single explanation why this affected him so much, but it did.

“I have watermelon, cherry, kiwi and peach.” You counted on your fingers.

“Wear the peach one tomorrow." Sirius grimaced at his too quick of a response, thankfully his face wasn't visible. He wasn't very proud of himself right now.

"I meant like- as a suggestion, that sounds cute, you know." He tries to explain himself, cringing on his own words.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, amused by his eagerness, “Do you want these? You seem to like them a lot." You asked cheekily.

Yeah, sure. That's exactly why I want you to wear these, Sirius though internally. His thoughts had involved you in his bed with the pants on, maybe off, but he kept that shamefully to himself.

The next couple of days felt torturous. Sirius felt like he had to physically restrain himself from reaching for you. Anytime you touch his shoulder, lean against him, huddle together on the couch, he overthought everything.

Every touch left him breathless, every look made it hard to breath. I need help.

You were distraught. For some reason, for the last few days, Sirius was acting weird. He had started pulling away from you, as if watching you from a distance. No ruffling your hair, no forehead kisses, no comfortable touches. It's not as if he owed you any affection, but he had stopped.

He knew.

He knew you had feelings for him. Even if he doesn't, which you desperately hope is the truth, he has a problem. You didn't know what to do. Everytime you thought to ask him something, he'd make up an excuse and leave. He definitely didn't want to talk to you.

Lily had suggested exactly as you predicted, the usual, you should talk to him, maybe he was just busy. And other times, she had been right, but not this time. All of this had led you to the inevitable decision, something you should have done long ago. Maybe if you had, this wouldn't have happened.

……

"I'm gonna move out, Lils.” You say into the phone,"What? Why?” Lily exclaimed, rather dramatically.

You sigh,"I can't live like this. He doesn't owe me anything. I shouldn't be expecting… things from him.”

There's a slight pause before you continue,"And I can't move on if I live with him. It's too painful, and too hard."

“Here's the real reason."

Lily felt like bashing her head against a wall. How can two people be so stupid at the same time? You two were perfect for each other, both too oblivious to see the obvious.

“Listen, I really think you should just tell him, even if you move out. He wouldn't stop being your friend, honey."

You hum as she says, but part of you knows you can't say it. You don't have the guts. You hear the familiar click of the door, Sirius is home.

“Lils, I've gotta go. I'll talk to you later." You hang up the phone, not listening to whatever she said at the end, too nervous to care.

Your hands are sweaty, and your hands are fidgeting constantly. Sirius comes in and can immediately sense your anxious energy,

“What happened, lovely?" He asks, his voice cooing as he moves over to you.

He's used to you busying yourself around the house, sometimes bobbing your head to music as you wash the dishes, or some other silly thing, he could go on.

“Sirius, we need to talk." You say quickly, your words too rushed, dreading this conversation.

Sirius' heart feels like it's going to lurch out.

Oh no.

He thinks that you know, somehow. That he had… he'd stopped saying it at a point. The impossibility of it all was a painful reminder. Now you're going to confront him. He's fucked.

“Okay…” He says, his voice too quiet now.

You rub your hands to pep yourself up, encouraging yourself to not lose track,

“I'm gonna move out."

The silence that takes over is one more overwhelming than any noise. Sirius is sure now, you definitely know. A dangerous dread spreads over his body, like a disease covering itself around him.

“It's not because of you, it's because of me." Sirius has the urge to scoff at the cliched statement, but his body feels too stiff, his eyes stuck on you.

But Sirius needed closure. So, whatever your feelings were, Sirius needed to hear why you're leaving.

“Why?" His voice is void of emotion. It breaks your heart.

A pitiful chuckle escaped you, “Sirius, you've made it clear you don't want me here."

Don't confront him. This wasn't the plan.

It wasn't. It wasn't even the reason you were moving out. But he was still your friend, he had still hurt your feelings. You were still mad at him, even though you had no right to be.

“What the hell do you mean?" Sirius asks, incredulous. How could he ever not want you here?

“We haven't talked properly in days. You answer me in singular words-"

Sirius cuts you off, feeling oddly defensive, even if what you were saying wasn't untrue,

“I've been busy-"

“Oh you've been busy before, Sirius. You never did this," You wave him off, but meeting his eyes, you say, “It's alright, I got the message, if you don't want me here-" Your voice rises despite your efforts as the conversation gets more heated,

"So what then? You're just gonna move out? Am I that terrible?” Sirius asks, sarcastically. Typical, you think. You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration,

"Sirius, I told you, this isn't about you,”

Right now, he isn't keen on listening to your reasoning. In his mind, it's all his fault. It's his fault that you have to leave. He's scrambling for explanations,

"Look, I'm sorry that I'm in love with you, alright? I couldn't help myself. Hell,” He laughs, pity and amusement lacing his words, “I didn't even know until a few weeks ago.”

Sirius felt like his world was falling apart. His heart has dared to love someone, and it backfired. He doesn't regret that he loves you, he couldn't. He had no control over that, ever. He was always going to be in love with you.

He only regrets that you found out, somehow. But he supposed that was also inevitable, you weren't daft.

“The point is,” His pleading eyes look at you, “It’s my problem to deal with, not yours.” His eyes are watching your face, you don't know what he might find, “Please, don't leave.”

A few moments pass, and it's as if the world is coming back to you. And one sentence rings in your head, distinct from any other sentence he's said.

I'm sorry that I'm in love with you.

“You what??” You ask, your voice full of incredulity. It feels like someone had hit you with a hammer, or pushed you off a cliff.

“I didn't want to be the guy who's your friend and then tells you he's in love with you, you know? I'm sorry that I love you, but you don't have to leave. If it matters, I will. You should stay here.” Sirius stammers out, his voice laced with pain and nervousness.

Your hands are wrapped under his, his hands clutching yours like they could stop you. They probably did stop you.

"You're in love with me?” You ask, your heart in your mouth, as if one word would be enough to tip you over.

“Please don't make me say it again." Sirius pleads, his eyes slightly watery.

Your eyes flick back and forth to both of his, searching for any kind of hesitance on his face, but it's plain. He's said those words like they were casual, as if they didn't just break your brain. There's nothing to say, or there are no words coming to your brain which are enough to convey your emotions.

A smile spreads across your lips and you bite your lips to conceal it undoing your hands from his to cradle his face,

“You’re in love with me.”

Sirius' pleading frown transforms to a confused one, and he nods, even if you hadn't asked it as a question this time.

You laugh, a watery laugh before you meet your lips to his, smiling too hard to kiss him properly.

Sirius feels like his body is on autopilot, his hands immediately cradling the back of your neck, his other one holding your wrist, his lips immediately responding to yours, as if it was all too natural.

In all his ‘foreseen’ outcomes, this hadn't been a possibility.

He smiles too, confusion still evident at the back of his mind, but he could only focus on the feeling of your lips on his, your hands holding his face.

His head tilts as he tries to get a better angle, desperate to know your tells and signs, his hand wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

You smile again, breaking the kiss but his lips chase you which makes you laugh more, and he hides his face in your shoulder, laughing along with you.

“You're in love with me," You say it quietly, as if you're confirming it to yourself, but he's too close by not to listen.

“And here I was, moving out because I wanted to get over you."

His head whips up, his face dumbstruck,

“What?"

“Mhmm." You bite your lips, and Sirius has half a mind to kiss you again.

“You're also in…." He trails off, his expression confused but you know exactly what he's asking,

“Sirius, I just kissed you."

“Yeah, but what if you just took pity-" You shut him up again, and he melts, exactly as you intended, moulding his body to yours, trying to get as close as he can. If this was your way to shut him up, he could get used to it.

"Wait, so you're not moving out right? Because-" And his words are cut off again, the same way from before.

He smiles against your lips, again, ecstatic. Giddy, even. Sirius could get used to this. Sirius could get used to kissing you as he arrives home.

All this because of fucking watermelon pyjamas.

#sirius black fluff #sirius black drabble #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black #sirius black angst #marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #padfoot

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 days ago

Note

maybe an insecure G!P donna x reader?

angie and reader have basically grown to be friends (bc reader has been working as donnas maid for a very long time) and angie brings up the idea of reader being with someone (a woman) with a penis and the reader gives an off reaction, so when reader comes onto donna, she sort of freaks and doesnt know what to do or say in response to readers advances.

(but it obviously ends good)

Yesss!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!!

Fears

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, maid! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, Donna being Donna, fluff

Word count: 8,124

Summary: Why? Why she hides her feelings?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

The silence, broken by the sound of cutlery, a dim light illuminating the table, that gloomy mansion... It could certainly seem that, like every night for some time now, you were having a romantic dinner with her. But even though all your senses, your feelings told you, whispered to you confirming that you were right, the reality was confusing and mysterious, as always.

There were no kisses, hugs or confessions; it was just you and her. It was a connection that was sometimes very visible and other times you couldn't even perceive.

You weren't a friend, a confidant, a lover, no. You were a maid looking for a way to stop being one, without finding a hidden corner, a secret passage to her feelings, to her heart.

Discreet, but at the same time endowed with a confusing joy for living, you spent the first years of your youth doing what all girls your age longed to do, looking for love. But your interests were far from those of a small majority, from what was expected of a villager, or rather, from what was the norm and not an exception.

Like the cliché of a romantic and dramatic novel, you fell in love with who you shouldn't have and you gave your first love to a stupid girl, thus becoming the worst mistake of your life.

Disappointment and deception were your first lessons, and you learned them too well. With a broken heart and a family on the brink of poverty, you decided to find a way to get away from it all. Being away from the village and at the same time earning some money seemed impossible.

Mother Miranda, the Lords, the Black Gods… they were your captors, the reminder that you would never get out of that place. The Duke, the village merchant, an entity somewhat kinder than the Gods or Mother Miranda seemed like a good solution to your problems.

For a 20-year-old girl like you, it wasn't difficult to aspire to any of the jobs that this extravagant man offered, but what you didn't know was that you wouldn't be an assistant or a merchant, but… a maid.

You were terrified, but you had to help your family. There was no time to think about fears, about what could happen, you simply accepted. Of course you would get away from the village, but the place you were going to was much worse than the memories of a failed love.

Nobody knew exactly who or what Donna Beneviento was. She was a Lord, descendant of the founders of the village, the youngest of her siblings, a doll maker... You didn't know anything else. You knew her mourning figure, the veil that covered her face, the sinister doll that always accompanied her, but the rest was just rumors.

They said she was a very sick, dangerous woman, who could make you suffer your worst nightmares without lifting a finger; they said that entering her territory was like death itself, a journey without return that no one could explain clearly. The reason? Just like the end of life, no one had ever returned to talk about it.

Barely speaking, she accepted your presence as a useful nuisance. You couldn’t hide your fear, the tremors of your body when you had her near. The rumors were present every day in your head and every night you wondered if it would be the last.

But time passed and nightmares didn’t haunt you. You couldn’t feel comfortable in her presence, in her elegant steps and glances through the black fabric, but you got used to it.

Donna was a strange woman, withdrawn, sick, and had no interest in you, in your presence or in your work, at least at first. Time was in your favor, as you began to stop shaking and accepted that you would continue to be in that place, that you wouldn’t disappear in that waterfall.

You did everything a maid did: clean, do the laundry, prepare your mistress a hot tea every afternoon... You did everything, except cook. You didn't know exactly why the lady in black was reticent in that regard, but you did know that you would never cook as well as she did.

Time again settled that strange coexistence, and conversations stopped being simple words or timid gestures, to let the words flow little by little. Of course, the attitude of the Angie doll was completely different from that of her owner, in fact, many times you prayed to the Gods for her to leave you alone.

Accustomed to your new life, you began to pass each of the challenges you set for yourself, knowing what to say to Donna to make her look at you or respond, and how to deal with that sinister puppet.

One afternoon, without warning, the lady in black pulled the veil from her face in front of you, leaving you pinned to an old chair. The people who said that a monster was hidden under that black cloth had never seen one in their lives. Donna was a truly beautiful woman, with a face damaged by selling her soul to the Gods.

Her face was damaged, yes, but not her beauty. Finally seeing the face of the mysterious woman laid the foundation for what was a chain of events that would continue until that very day.

She knew how to smile, she did it often. Her pale skin blushed with your compliments; her soft hands caressed yours from time to time, thinking you wouldn’t notice.

Your heart wasn’t oblivious to all of that, to those changes in your way of seeing things, in the way in which little by little, you began to see Donna.

That cowardly girl from the village abruptly left your thoughts, pushed by the constant image of the smile of the lady in black, by those timid and apparently innocent approaches. Denying it would be foolish; your heart had chosen, had chosen to fall in love with Donna Beneviento.

What could have been a new illusion in your life mutated unintentionally into a constant longing, into much more intentional approaches, into caresses that you began to provoke.

Donna seemed more than satisfied with your hands in hers, with a sweet smile, with a loving gaze staring into yours.

Again, it seemed like a love story worthy of a novel, but you should have already known that fiction was just that, fiction.

The tension was constant, the silences between you always seemed to precede a kiss, a confession, a confirmation that it was really happening, but it never did.

Donna, who at first seemed to want to get closer, moved further and further away. She seemed just as in love as you, but something told her to stop. When you were close to her, when you couldn't do anything but kiss her, she moved away with any stupid excuse.

Close, far, close, very close, and very far. She never said anything, never confessed the feelings you saw in her eye. You just settled for that special friendship, that tender relationship that maybe was just that.

The fear of misinterpreting things, of making a mistake and losing what it took you so long to achieve, made you deflate, but not give up.

If she was scared, if she needed you to wait for her to gain enough courage to tell you that you weren't fooling yourself, of course you would. You would wait for her until she was ready, whatever it took.

“It's delicious,” you said, blinking in pleasure at the food, earning her beautiful smile back with a slight nod.

“Grazie, (Y/N),” her hoarse voice replied. “But it's not the first time you've tried lasagna.”

“I know, but it's always delicious,” you said amused, shaking your head, searching your mind for the right way to stop silence from reigning again. “Someday I'd like to learn how to make it.”

Donna looked at you and smiled again, looking at you curiously.

“You... do you want me to teach you?” she asked in a cautious whisper, as if she didn't believe your words, as if deep down she knew that all you wanted was to hear her voice.

“Yes... well, if you want, of course,” you said, looking down to continue with dinner. “If you don't want to teach this clumsy maid how to cook...”

“No, no, no, um...” she said nervously, with the words coming out of her mouth with difficulty. “I didn't mean to seem rude. It's just that it surprised me. No one had ever asked me to teach them how to cook.”

“Well, I have,” you said jokingly, rolling your eyes adorably and making her nervous again, holding her gaze.

“Actually... I haven't gotten involved with many people so...” Donna murmured, wiping herself with a napkin. “I mean, with no one really and... Ugh...” she sighed nervously, looking down.

“Has no one ever told you that you cook wonderfully?” you asked curiously, to which she simply shook her head.

“I've always cooked for myself,” she explained. “You're the first person to try my dishes.”

“It's an honor,” you whispered, bowing shyly. “You're also the first person I've worked for as a maid, so it's a tie.”

“Yes,” she sighed, sipping some wine to hide her blush. “You're also very good at cleaning and… you leave clothes sparkling clean and…”

“The washing machine does that,” you joked, gesturing with your hand.

“Yes, but… I mean, you're a good maid and… Ugh, I better shut up,” Donna muttered, frowning.

“No, please, I like listening to you,” you said with a serious tone, making her smile discreetly.

“(Y/N), why did you decide to serve me?” she asked with a slightly different, distrustful voice. “I know your parents need the money but… Why me? You could have been more comfortable in the castle.”

“To be honest, the Duke offered me the job,” you whispered, with the demons of your past stalking you. “I'm not going to lie to you, Donna, at first I was a little scared with the idea of coming here and…”

“With me,” Donna added, with a hurt sigh and a dark look.

“Well, yes,” you said sincerely, drinking from your glass. “But I couldn't refuse, I… needed to get out of the village and if I tell you the truth, I never believed in rumors.”

“Did you need to get out of the village?” the lady asked curiously, arching her eyebrow. “Perché?”

“It's a long story,” you murmured, relaxing your expression. “I don't want to be boring by telling you about my misfortunes.”

“Oh, no, please, tell me,” Donna said, blinking curiously, with a look that you couldn't deny anything to. “I'd like to know.”

“Okay…” you sighed, taking a breath and turning your eyes away from hers. “Well, it turns out I fell in love with a girl from the village,” you began, remembering worse times.

Donna nodded impatiently, giving her full attention.

“I thought she was wonderful, the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen and, well, all those things you think about when you're in love,” you said, playing with the delicious food. “I'll just say that her family was very… traditional, they didn't look kindly on their little girl having anything to do with a poor girl like me, especially a with a girl.”

“I don't understand,” she said, shaking her head, not missing a detail of your sad story. “Why not?”

“Well, I guess there are people like that,” you sighed, controlling the sudden moisture in your eyes. “The issue wasn't what her family thought, I didn't care, but she did.”

“Oh,” Donna sighed, looking down, sensing the end of that story.

“Yes...” you said, shaking your head. “You know what? I thought love could overcome all that nonsense and prejudices. The truth is that knowing that wasn't the case was what hurt me the most.”

“Don't you believe in love?” the lady asked, innocently.

You couldn't help but smile, smile when you looked at her, seeing her bright eye giving off curiosity about what you felt about love.

“I thought I didn’t but... I was wrong,” you said, trying not to be too obvious.

“Have you found someone?” she asked abruptly, clenching her fists in a suspicious, nervous way. “Who?”

“I'm still not sure,” you whispered with melancholy, knowing that Donna would never, ever think that that someone was her. “I envy you.”

“Envy?” she asked, shaking her head with a strange look.

“You, the Lords,” you said, shrugging. “You aren’t judged, you can do whatever you want.”

“Um, well…” Donna murmured, frowning. “But that's not…”

“I wish Mother Miranda had adopted me too. It would be great to be completely free and also have powers. You're very lucky…”

“Lucky!?” the lady shrieked, hitting the table with her fist, scaring you with her abrupt attitude. “Lucky, you say?”

“That's the way I think,” you said confused, taking your hands off the table, noticing the trembling of her body. “You're a powerful woman, no one tells you what to do.”

“You have no idea, (Y/N),” Donna hissed, getting up slowly, threateningly. “You just talk nonsense. You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I'm sorry, have I offended you? I thought that…” you said nervously, fearing for the tranquility of that night.

“Would you sell your soul to the Gods to feel free? Do you realize what you're saying?” she asked in an accusatory tone, pointing at you with her finger.

“You did it,” you said strangely, crossing your arms.

“Yes,” she said coldly, leaning towards you. “I paid the consequences. You don't know what she did to me…”

“She offered you a gift, one more chance, eternal life, that sounds good to me,” you answered sincerely, a grave mistake, since the lady was increasingly nervous, her body trembling with anger.

“A gift…” she sighed, with a nervous laugh. “Look at me!” she shouted, pointing at the deformity of her face. “Do you think this is a gift!?”

“Donna…” you sighed, moving your hands to try to calm her down. “I've told you many times that it doesn't matter, you're beautiful and…”

“Sei una stupida…” the brunette hissed, clenching her teeth. “You don't know what it's like to look like this, you don't know what that gift did to me, what it did to my body…”

“Body? What's wrong with your body?” you asked confused, looking her up and down. “You have a beautiful body, what…?”

“Nothing, forget it,” she whispered, controlling her breathing and closing her eye.

“Donna, what…?” you asked, getting up and bringing your hand to rest on her arm.

“I said forget it,” the lady growled, pulling away from your hold with an annoyed gasp.

“But…”

“Forget it! Porca puttana! Lasciami!” she shrieked angrily, kicking the floor and turning with a sob, disappearing down the elevator hallway.

“Donna…” you sighed, frustrated by that argument, one that you had unintentionally provoked. “But what did I say?”

“Nonsense, as always,” a shrill voice said, the Angie doll, who approached you with a comical step.

The puppet was always jealous of your presence, at least for a while. Little by little you managed to gain her trust. Sometimes you wished you had that complicit friendship with the lady and not with that rebellious mix of porcelain and wood.

“I haven't said anything bad, right?” you asked curiously, letting yourself fall into the chair and resting your hand on your forehead. “I just wanted to praise her.”

“Praise her? Well, you're really bad at it, silly,” Angie mocked. “Anyway, I hope you haven't forgotten our game session tomorrow.”

“What? How can you be thinking about that?” you asked annoyed, while you looked at the hallway. “I screwed up things with Donna, again, help me.”

“Help yourself, silly maid,” the doll snapped at you, tilting her head. “You can start by keeping that mouth shut.”

“What did I say? Angie, do you know what she meant?” you insisted, looking for an explanation for the lady's behavior. “Look, I know Donna is embarrassed by her looks, but I thought she was over that and…”

“She wears a damn veil every time she leaves the house. Do you think she's over it?” the puppet hummed. “Um, lasagna…”

“Well, she doesn't wear it with me,” you muttered thoughtfully, staring into space. “I don't understand what that was about, I thought…”

“Stop thinking so many things, silly girl, and pick this up, I'll deal with your mess,” Angie said, patting your back and getting off the table, walking towards the elevator. “Big mouth!”

“Hey! But…” you protested, shaking your head and growling in frustration. “Damn…”

With no other options, knowing that it was going to be a rough night for your lady, you decided to obey the doll, which mysteriously seemed to be the more rational part of the lady when she lost her mind.

You were never allowed to deal with those horrible crises and psychotic attacks, but you were convinced that you would eventually be able to, although that night didn't seem like progress at all.

In silence, mulling over what your unforgivable mistake could have been, you did your maid's work, cleaning the dishes in the kitchen under a deathly silence, a silence that betrayed a distant sob coming from the lady in black's room.

You knew Angie was with her and that you shouldn't worry too much, but a second sob prevented you from going up to your room and caused your legs to move on their own towards the bedroom.

“A-A-Angie... I can't take it anymore...” you heard the lady sobbing, whom you could see through a crack.

Donna was at her dressing table, her head buried in her hands, faithfully accompanied by the only friend she ever had, and that wasn't you.

“Come on, come on, she didn't mean any harm,” the doll said while you listened. “She has no way of knowing that…”

“That's the problem, Angie,” the lady said, raising her head a little. “Cazzo… she doesn't…”

“Hey, hey, Donna, relax… I'm convinced that if you tell her…”

“I can't tell her! Don't you realize? She would never understand, she would leave and I would… be alone again…” Donna said, making you frown, not knowing what they were talking about, but sensing that it had something to do with you.

“Well, I think she would understand. She's nice, I'm sure…” the doll said, with a petulant tone.

“No!” Donna shrieked again, with a completely broken voice. “No, Angie, I can't keep her away from me, I... she...”

“You're almost as stupid as she is. That's nonsense, Donna,” Angie said, in a mocking, dangerous tone. “Let me take care of that.”

“Cosa? You?” the lady asked, shaking her head. “Angie, don't you even dare to...”

“Leave it to me, my dear Donna, we’re friends,” the doll said.

You didn't want to risk listening any further and you disappeared with a subtle step, wondering over and over again what was going on.

Fantasizing, tossing and turning in bed, you imagined what that secret could be. Logic and your hopeful heart whispered dangerous theories in your ear, whispered that maybe, just maybe, she had feelings for you and that the mere fact of acknowledging it was a torment for her.

The reasons? You didn't know. It could be because of her status as a Lord, because of the irrational fear of a relationship, or because she considered you a silly maid who couldn't feel the same.

It was definitely nonsense. You were madly in love with Donna, nothing could change your mind, but there was something you could do to change hers.

The shy and slightly submissive attitude you always had with her wasn’t going to serve to get results, you would have to be more direct, subtly force her to stop being afraid, to say something you already knew, that she knew. But you would have to be cautious and not take hasty steps.

Everything you thought or believed was pure conjecture from a stupid girl in love. One wrong step and everything would end. You would lose that wonderful woman, that woman you were longing to love.

“Donna,” you said the next morning, entering the workshop with an innocent smile, pretending that nothing had happened.

“Mm,” she murmured, focused on an almost finished doll, without looking at you.

“How pretty,” you whispered tenderly, looking over her shoulder at the creation.

The lady couldn't help but smile, handing you the doll so you could see it closer, satisfied by your compliments.

“It's almost finished,” she said with a distracted look as you gave it back to her. “Do you want something, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, well…” you said somewhat nervously, trying to search in your mind for the strategy you had already rehearsed. “Hey, I was thinking about yesterday…”

Donna lowered her gaze, suddenly tensing her whole body and breathing with difficulty.

“I don't want to talk, go away,” she said, with a dangerous hiss, moving away from your proximity.

“Oh, wow,” you sighed in a sad tone, pouting. “I thought you were excited to teach me how to make lasagna…”

“Mm?” she murmured again, frowning and looking at you briefly.

“Don't you remember? It seemed like you wanted to teach me,” you insisted, placing a hand on her shoulder, one that she glanced at, but didn't move away. “Well, if you're not in the mood, I won't bother you anymore.”

“Un attimo, (Y/N),” she interrupted, getting up from the chair when you were about to leave the place, playing nervously with her hands. “I-I'd like to teach you.”

“Great,” you said with a bright smile, putting your hands on your hips.

She smiled back, nervously nodding.

“Um… let me finish this and…” Donna sighed, with a different glint in her eye, one that betrayed interest, almost excitement.

“Hey, not at all!” Angie shrieked, also entering the workshop. “Don't you know what time it is, you silly, silly girl?” she asked, demanding an explanation.

“Well…” you said, glancing at the clock.

“It's playtime, silly maid! Have you forgotten?” Angie told you, insistently hitting your shin.

“Angie, Iasciala estare,” Donna sighed, glaring at the doll. “I'm going to teach her how to cook.”

“That's fine,” the doll said, nodding and walking towards her owner. “But first things first, Donna, she has to play with me.”

“Angie…” the lady growled, with visible impatience.

“No, um… it doesn't matter, Angie is right, playtime is sacred,” you said amused, with a childish tone, bringing a bold hand to the lady's cheek, which trembled with the contact. “That way you can finish that pretty doll…”

Donna blinked when she lost contact with your skin and opened her mouth to say something, but the words didn't seem to want to come out of her lips, so she just nodded, bringing her own hand to the place where yours rested.

You smiled satisfied, turning around and leaving a petrified lady behind you as you walked with Angie through the basement.

“Let's see…” Angie whispered, rummaging through an old drawer where she kept her favorite games.

Throughout that year, playing with the doll had been just another part of your routine. You couldn't deny that it was fun deep down, and as loud and irreverent as Angie was, you considered her something very, very close to a friend, a special one, of course.

“How about chess?” you suggested, taking out the board as you sat on the floor.

“No!” Angie shrieked, destroying your ears. “Cards, cards...”

“Cards again?” you asked, rolling your eyes as the doll pulled out a deck of cards.

“Yes, but not just any cards...” Angie murmured in a mysterious tone. “Let's play Angie poker.”

“Angie poker? You just made that up, didn't you?” you joked, laughing amusedly.

“Shut up, you silly, silly,” the doll protested, placing the deck in front of you.

“How do you play?” you asked while shuffling.

“It's like normal poker, but…” she explained, sitting on the floor.

“But,” you whispered in an intriguing, curious tone.

“If I win, you'll have to answer a question, whatever it is, and you'll have to tell me the truth,” the doll commented, making you frown.

“A question?” you asked, distrustful.

“Yes, silly, a question. If I win, I'll ask you a question and you'll answer honestly,” the puppet said again while you sighed, somewhat nervous.

“What if I win?” you asked, shaking your head.

“That's not going to happen,” Angie mocked, hitting the floor with one hand. “Come on, come on, deal.”

As expected, the doll didn't take long to win you over, no matter how hard you tried, you would have to answer her.

“Okay, you win,” you said, throwing your cards reluctantly and crossing your arms. “Come on, ask.”

“Mm, well...” Angie whispered, rubbing her hands. “First question, silly, silly, have you only been with girls?”

“It's an easy question,” you murmured thoughtfully. “I had some boyfriends when I was a teenager, but you could say that I have,” you answered without hesitation.

“Interesting,” Angie commented, studying your gaze. “Well, (Y/N), come on, another round.”

You laughed, arching your eyebrows at that fun game. Well, it wasn't so fun when you had defeat in front of you again.

“I have the same,” you protested at the doll's sinister laughter.

“Yeah, but my card is higher,” Angie mocked. “You lost again, silly, next question.”

“Ugh,” you complained, shaking your head. “Go.”

“Well… you said you had a boyfriend…” Angie murmured, with a more discreet tone than usual. “Have you ever touched a penis?”

“What?” you said, eyes wide, heart completely stopped. “Angie, what kind of question is that?”

“It's my question, answer it, loser,” Angie said, unfazed by what she had asked.

“Hey, that…” you whispered discreetly, looking around for more ears in the room. “That's none of your business, I'm not going to answer.”

“Coward, huh? Those are the rules, silly,” the doll said in a dark voice.

“No, not a chance,” you said, refusing flatly. “Ask something else.”

“No, I want you to answer that,” Angie said impatiently. “Come on… we're friends, friends talk about those things.”

“Angie, I don't think…” you whispered nervously, biting your tongue.

“Answer, maid, or I'll tell Donna that you think her lasagna is crap,” the puppet threatened, looking at her hands cockily. “You don't want that, do you?”

“Oh, you wouldn't dare…” you hissed, narrowing your eyes.

“Try,” the doll crooned, making you refuse again, which caused Angie to get up and walk past you. “Donna! Look what she said…!”

“Shh!” you hissed nervously, grabbing her arm and pulling her away. “Shut up, damn,” you growled, knowing you had nothing to do against her.

“Answer me,” she demanded again, freeing herself from your grip.

You growled again, squeezing your eyes tightly and rubbing them with your hand.

“Okay, okay,” you said in a discreet whisper. “I'm not going to give you a concrete answer. I just say that I experimented.”

“Oh…” Angie murmured, laughing amused. “Did you like it?”

“That's another question,” you said in a dark tone, wanting to throw the irreverent puppet into the fireplace.

“Oh, come on, you'll never win,” Angie said, leaning towards you. “You know it, look, I have all the aces.”

“Damn…” you swore. “Angie, what did I say about cheating?”

“Silly,” she mocked, making you hiss again and look away. “Come on, answer, did you like it?”

“I'm not going to answer that, what are these questions about?” you said annoyed and embarrassed.

“Curiosity,” Angie said dryly. “Come on, yes or no?”

“Ugh…” you sighed, wishing time would pass faster. “Well, it was different, but I never got as far as…”

“Would you like to do it again?” Angie asked, with a less mocking tone, as if she was serious.

“Okay, that's enough, I've played with you, now...” you said, getting up from the floor, ready to flee to Donna's company, to a shelter without Angie.

“Donna! (Y/N) doesn't like your lasagna at all!” the doll shrieked, making you grab her roughly, covering her moving mouth.

“Will you shut up? What's all this about?” you asked nervously, unable to put the pieces together in your mind, you wish you had done it before.

“If you don't answer, face the consequences,” she threatened again, making you twist your hands, imagining that between them, there was a wooden neck.

“You're...” you hissed, crossing your arms and giving up. “Well, no, Angie, I don't like boys.”

“I don't talk about stupid boys, silly,” the doll corrected, signaling you to sit back down.

Reluctantly, you obeyed, letting yourself fall to the floor.

“No? So what are you talking about?” you asked in a cold, annoyed and slightly embarrassed tone.

“You know…” Angie whispered, getting closer to your ear with a childish giggle. “Penises…”

“Ugh,” you said blushing and shaking your head.

“What if…? I don't know. If it wasn't a man, but a woman… would you like her penis?” she asked again, making you blush even more and raise your eyebrows.

“But, Angie, that's not possible, unless it's some kind of voluntary change, I once met someone who…” you explained, trying to find some rationality in that absurd conversation.

“I'm not talking about that, silly,” the doll said, interrupting you. “I'm talking to you about... well, what if it was an involuntary change?”

“Okay, I don't understand anything, what are you trying to tell me?” you asked, losing patience, finding multiple explanations in your head, some of which you didn't pay the attention they required.

“I mean, silly, silly... I'd like to know what you would think if... well, if you were in love with a woman, but she had a penis, not by her own will, but because of... the Cadou...”

“Cadou? What is that?” you asked.

“That doesn't matter now, silly, what matters is your answer,” Angie said, as if she had said something she shouldn't.

“You haven't asked any questions.”

“Because you don’t let me talk,” protested Angie. “Well, if you were in love with her, what would you do? Would you reject her just because she has a penis?”

“No, of course I wouldn’t. If I loved that woman I wouldn't care about anything else,” you answered from the heart, without even thinking about what it would imply, the meaning of those strange questions. “Seriously, what is Cadou?”

“I'm the one who asks the questions,” Angie said, with a slightly more nervous tone.

“They are very strange questions,” you said nervously, looking at the clock from time to time to end that torture.

“Don't be a whiner, come on, the last one,” the doll said, giving you a strong slap on the back. “And tell the truth, silly... I know when you lie to me.”

“How scary,”

“Shut up and answer: You love my Donna, don't you?” she asked in a low, kind tone, very different from the rest of her impertinent questions.

Of course you got nervous. The doll's statement was true, terribly correct, but you didn't know that she could even sense your feelings.

It was clear, the conversation from the night before was about you, but… if Angie wanted to know, why beat around the bush? Why such strange questions if that was what she really wanted to ask? It didn't make sense, no sense at all, unless…

“Gods, Angie, is it true? Does Donna have a…?” you asked, open-mouthed, blinking in confusion. “Gods, that's why…”

“Hey, that's not my question,” the doll protested. “I didn't say anything, do you hear me? You’re just drawing your stupid conclusions.”

“Angie, but, but, but how is that possible?” you asked curiously, stopping the doll from running away by grabbing her by the arms. “I don't understand anything.”

“I've already told you, silly, silly, when Mother Miranda adopted my Donna, her face isn't the only thing that changed,” the doll explained, then covering her mouth. “Oh, shit, I shouldn't have said that…”

“Hey, hey, wait, wait!” you said chasing Angie, who naturally ran away terrified by her mistake. “Hey, I do, I love her and I don't care about…!”

Your screams were of no use, as your mind was occupied with your thoughts. Suddenly, everything started to make sense.

The doll maker's insecurities went far beyond her face, and you had no idea. Slowly, memories of your encounters began to fall on you, encounters where Donna would always back away when your bodies got close.

It wasn't an easy issue to understand. Surely she did have feelings for you, but her insecurities were too big, how could she expect you to fall in love with her if she probably thought you wouldn't like her body?

Poor Donna, it must have been terrible for her to think that you would never love her, that all she could do was discreetly walk away when you pretended to do the opposite. How could she confess her feelings? She couldn't be hiding it from you forever and as long as you found out... well, she would think you would leave, that you would be disgusted.

The revelation was strange, yes, but it wasn't anything especially surprising in a place like that. You were totally honest with Angie, you didn't care at all. You loved her, with a scar, without a scar, with a penis or without it.

It was an important step to begin to understand her feelings, but your mind understood it as the last step, as the green signal that indicated you could run as much as you wanted, that the path was clear.

You had been wanting to declare your love for her for a long time, wanting to kiss her, to feel her. Surely that is why you decided to end the tension at that very moment, and act, to force her in a certain way to admit that she felt the same for you.

To do so you would need some improvised strategy, to rescue some of that extroverted and daring personality you once had and you knew was somewhere. In addition, you had a unique opportunity for it, a great cooking lesson.

“That's it... gently,” she indicated while you cut the dough to form some perfect lasagna sheets, with a tender smile and a subtle purr. “I know I can buy it ready-made, but I like to do it this way.”

“Mm, it's much better if you do it with your own hands, isn't it?” you asked as you shook the flour off. “I hope I'm a good student.”

“Of course you are,” Donna whispered, giving you a tender smile as she moved away from you a little, stirring the sauce. “But pasta isn't everything. The main thing for a good lasagna is the…”

The lady froze when you approached from behind, grabbing her waist to stand on tiptoe and look over her shoulder. She trembled, speechless, but she didn't move away, she didn't take your hands off her body, innocent hands with not so innocent intentions.

“Mm? What, Donna?” you asked in a honeyed voice, as she moved gracefully so your hands would move on their own, away from her.

“T-The sauce,” she said, looking away and nervously stirring the appetizing contents of the pan.

“Yeah, sure, the filling is the most important thing, isn't it?” you asked pretending to be distracted, making her blink again, nodding slowly.

“Y-Yes…” she sighed. “Look, come.”

You smiled more widely as the lady left you some space to stand next to her, pointing at the pan.

“Mm, it smells wonderful,” you sighed, getting a little closer, shamelessly invading her personal space, leaving her no room to back away. “Can I try it?”

She just nodded, watching how your body brushed against hers, how your breasts brushed her arm in an intentional movement, with the wooden spoon shaking in her hand.

“Here,” she whispered frowning and offering you the spoon.

“Can you give it to me?” you asked, blinking childishly, not looking away from her confused eye.

“Em… va bene,” she murmured, dipping the spoon into the sauce and bringing it to your mouth while you held her hands, moaning in pleasure at the taste of the meat.

“Delicious,” you whispered, licking your lips sensually and making poor Donna look away, nodding.

“Ti piace?” she asked, moving away again, pretending to look for something in a nearby cupboard.

“Mi piace, mi piace,” you answered amused, chasing her slowly, standing behind her again. “What are you looking for?”

“Um, spices, yes, spices,” she said nervously, rummaging through the drawers.

“Parsley? You've already put it, haven't you?” you asked, looking at the jar she picked up, turning her hand with yours and taking a step towards her body again, being terribly close.

“Yes, but, but…” Donna murmured, seeing how her defenses fell, how your proximity completely deactivated her, just as you expected. “It's just that…”

Without thinking twice, you acted, directly, forcefully, bringing your lips closer to hers, catching them in a sweet, but deep kiss, which made the lady in black drop the jar as your lips consumed hers.

You pulled away with a curious look, seeing how her eye was wide open and her jaw dropped. She wasn't able to say or do anything, it seemed like she had been paralyzed. You could take advantage of that.

“Donna, the parsley,” you said pointing to the floor and bending down in front of her to pick up the jar, going up slowly, very slowly. “Be more careful, it could have broken,” you whispered, with a smug smile, handing the parsley to the motionless lady and moving away to leave her alone, at least for a moment.

It was the best kiss of your life, but it was also one that got no response. You fought inside yourself not to kneel down and confess your love, not to repeat the wet actions of your lips again.

You decided to tone down the euphoria a bit and continue cooking as if nothing had happened. Donna was nervous, terribly nervous, but she tried by all means not to lose her composure.

That lunch was the most tense of your life.

Silence reigned as always, but the looks were different. A tender smile decorated your face as she watched you, trying to decipher your actions, the reason for that stolen, treacherous kiss.

She didn't say anything, but neither did you, at least until, after eating, you decided to continue with your approaches, taking advantage of the fact that the lady was trying to distract herself by reading on the sofa.

You sat very close to her, her dress brushing against yours and, comically, she cleared her throat, moving away a little, but being chased by you until she was cornered.

Suddenly Donna put her book aside and sighed, looking at you briefly and shaking her head.

“Why did you do it?” she asked with a hoarse voice, a nervous whisper.

“What?” you asked, pretending to be confused, playing seductively with your hair.

“You kissed me,” she murmured after a few seconds of silence, avoiding looking you in the eyes. “Why did you do it?”

“You didn’t like it?” you asked, pouting. “Because I think you did…”

“I asked first, (Y/N),” Donna said, in a stern tone, frowning as she clenched the fabric of the couch in her fists.

“I don't know, I wanted to know how your lips felt,” you purred, resting your head on your hand. “I've been wondering that for a long time.”

“So, so... what's your verdict?” the lady asked shyly, slowly falling into your trap.

“Mm, I don't know. Maybe I'll have to give you another one to check it out,” you joked, getting closer again while she laughed shyly, with an obvious blush on her cheeks. “Unless you didn't like it.”

“I...” Donna murmured, shaking her head and closing her eye tightly. “I-I wouldn't mind if you kissed me again.”

“Mm, okay,” you said amused, getting closer to her lips, kissing them softly, letting her hands caress your face while she experimented, caressing you with her lips in a tender, but shaky way.

“W-Wait, (Y/N),” she said, slowly moving away and brushing your hair away from your face. “We shouldn't do this.”

“Why?” you asked in a more serious tone, far from joking. “Donna, I'm tired of enduring this tension between us... I know you feel the same way as I do... You can't refuse to admit it.”

“You're my maid, and it's not right,” she said, crossing her arms with a nervous gasp, looking at you comically out of the corner of her eye.

“It's not because of that, and you know it,” you said, taking her hand and pulling it towards you. “Donna, why do you insist on hiding?”

“(Y/N), look, maybe, maybe you're right and maybe I'm... madly in love with you, but it can't be possible,” Donna finally acknowledged, squeezing your hand in hers. “Don't ask why, tesoro, just... just accept it, okay?”

“No, I don't accept it,” you said seriously, with a brusque tone. “Stop hiding, my love… I, listen, I…”

“You don't understand, you're not capable of understanding it,” she hissed, moving away from you and passing a hand over her forehead.

“Kiss me again, Donna, please…” you begged, pushing away her fears, confusing her again with a deep kiss, one that she returned as you noticed how a tear ran down her cheek.

It was a different kiss, wilder, deeper, one that silenced the voices in her mind, that fear she had of not being loved, those insecurities. Your hands went to her face, to her hair; they went down her body slowly, not giving her time to think about what you were doing.

She stopped, but only for an instant, before continuing with those panting, hungry kisses, while your hand rested on her leg, moving up little by little.

“Basta, basta,” the doll maker said pulling away and placing a hand on your wrist. “Don't go on, per favore,”she sighed, embarrassed.

“Donna, stop... being afraid,” you whispered, wiping away one of her tears, hissing at the brunette's grip on your wrist. “Listen to me, I know everything, I know why you hide, I know why you ran away from me when I came near, I know why you deny yourself the desire you have to love me…”

“What? How do you…? Ugh, cazzo…” she hissed, pulling away and getting up from the couch. -Angie, vieni qui!”

“Shh, it's okay, Donna,” you said, lowering her back onto the couch little by little while she trembled in embarrassment. “She just wanted to help you.”

“Help me? But you, you know it and…” she stammered, breathing heavily.

“I'm here, kissing you, don't you see, darling?” you asked, caressing her cheek, guiding her to look at you. “Donna, I don't care, I love you just the way you are.”

“It wasn't my fault, it wasn't my fault!” she screamed furiously, while you fought against her demons.

“Shh, I know, I know,” you whispered affectionately, nodding slowly. “I know, Donna…”

“I didn't want this to happen to me… I just wanted to have someone, a family… to stop being the crazy Donna Beneviento but… I, I became a… a mons…”

“No, don't even think about saying that,” you cut her off abruptly. “You're a wonderful woman, Donna, you really are and I… I love you, I love you and nothing can change that, nothing, do you hear me?”

“But I'm not what you're looking for,” she protested, shaking her head.

“Mm, do you even know what I'm looking for?” you asked amused, making her laugh shyly. “No, right? Then… let's stop fooling around, stop holding back, stop being afraid and let us to love each other.”

“(Y/N)…” Donna sighed, unable to stop your lips, which silenced hers again while your hand returned to the desired place, caressing her leg slowly, following the rhythm of her kisses.

“Shh, don't talk. Let our bodies do it,” you purred in her ear, pushing her chest gently so that her back rested on the couch.

Everything was already said, everything was clear, she loves you, you loved her, there was only one last thing left to do: an act of love, an act that would demonstrate the reality of your words, of your feelings.

Kisses began to calm the silence, small gasps replaced her complaints and fears and her hands lost control, wandering over your dress, grabbing your back, pulling you closer, much closer.

Your legs climbed over her hips as you fought the gasps, her wandering hands clawing, clinging to your clothes. Your mischievous hand moved up her leg, making her breathing quicken as you approached her shame.

You laughed on her lips as your fingers ran over her covered, but very noticeable erection. There was no doubt that she wanted it, that she wanted you in a wild way, you didn't know to what extent she did.

“You're beautiful,” you whispered to calm her nerves, to let the caresses on her dress not be uncomfortable, but quite the opposite.

She didn't answer, she looked at your hand with doubts, but it didn't take long for her to kiss you again, to stop thinking, to let herself be carried away by all those longed-for sensations. Not afraid to go fast, to quench the thirst for love that your body had throughout that year, you continued to stimulate her little by little, grabbing her gently, causing terribly erotic moans to vibrate on your lips.

“Wait,” the lady said, nervous and excited, when your hand went inside her skirt to free her shaft and expose it to you. “Wait…”

“Shh, allow me,” you said putting a finger on her lips while your hand did its job, freeing her hard erection, making you feel her hot skin between your fingers. “I know I'm going fast, but I can't hold back the desire to love you… Oh, wow, not bad,” you said amused, looking down while your hand made soft movements up and down.

“Don't look at it,” she complained, looking away, closing her eyes to avoid seeing your lustful actions.

“Donna, you're perfect, your whole body is perfect and I want it,” you said sweetly, knowing that she wouldn't be able to complete that impure act and freeing yourself from your own underwear, climbing a further on her body.

“(Y/N), I…” Donna said, enduring the pleasure of your fingers caressing the tip, of the soft and inexperienced movements you made to align her erection with your wet entrance.

“Shh…” you moaned again, letting the heat of her shaft pass to your entrance, to rub against it, to play cruelly with it until you lowered your body slowly, introducing it inside you and closing your eyes at the sensation.

“Oddio…” the lady moaned as she felt how she slid into you, how your walls, so unaccustomed to it, adapted as you lowered yourself more and more, until she was completely inside. “Così buono…”

“Mm,” you moaned, enduring that discomfort you felt at the intrusion, dancing slowly, very slowly on her hips. “Oh, Donna… it's just perfect.”

“Can you move? Please,” she asked you, trembling with the pleasure of feeling your warmth, of being inside you in a unique and special way.

You nodded once your body got completely used to it, going up and down, feeling how it slid, how the hands of the shy and insecure Donna traveled to your hips, marking the rhythm of your movements.

“Yes, Donna…” you moaned, feeling an overwhelming heat, pleasurable and unmatched sensations, dancing, going up, going down, squeezing her erection with your slippery walls, accompanying those obscene sounds with soft moans.

You had wanted to do something like that for a long time, wanting to give yourself completely to Donna, no matter how. The pleasure you felt was shocking, unbearable at a certain point, especially when the soft movements of her hips began to get out of control.

Her shaft throbbed inside you, calling, demanding a release that you complied with by pulling back, trembling, squeezing her inside you with a moan that was going to traumatize the elusive Angie.

“(Y/N), I can't… hold it…” Donna moaned, her nails digging into your skin, just before her own release erupted inside you, warming you up, covering you with the wet caress of her seed. “Oh, cazzo…”

“Wow, that was fast,” you joked, moving with her still inside you, giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

“I'm sorry, I…” she said, visibly embarrassed.

“Don't worry, Donna, I was saying it to me too. I think we've been hiding what we felt for a long time,” you replied, caressing her cheek

“Yes, we have…”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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inkedbydesire · 3 days ago

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Jealous (18+)

Jey Uso x Black Fem Reader

Warning: 18+ Content, SMUT, MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Summary: Everybody does it right? But no one ever wants to talk about it. And you damn sure don’t want to be caught doing it. Your boyfriend Joshua Fatu (aka Jey Uso) was supposed to be out of town (like always). His schedule as a Pro Wrestler kept him constantly traveling away from you. You two spent more time away from each other than you did together. But you never complained because to you, he was worth it. But you still had certain ........... needs. Most of the time you fought those needs until you were near him again but on a few other occasions, you allowed yourself to be consumed by them. And tonight was one of those nights. But what happens when Joshua comes home a day earlier than expected and finds you in your bed enjoying yourself...... without him.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I felt like showing Jey a little love. I apologize in advance for any grammar errors or typos.

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"I'm a liar sweetie. I cheat on niggas too. (I DO). You probably shouldn't trust me or I'll hurt your feelings boo. I don't wanna be here but my ex won't take me back so my broken ass is here small talking over apps."

You let out an audible laugh even though you'd already seen this scene over 100 times. But no matter how many times you've binged Insecure due to it being one of your comfort shows, Issa's antics never failed to put a smile on your face. You shook your head at her nonsense before averting your eyes to your phone. You picked it up in hopes to have received a message from your boyfriend whom you messaged over 30 minutes ago telling him how much you missed him. But sadly as you looked down at your screen, there was nothing. It was currently 1:05 am so you figured he was most likely sleeping in his hotel room after a long day of press and performing in his wrestling event.

This was a weekly occurrence for you guys so this routine was familiar. But being familiar with something doesn't make it any easier. You still missed him terribly when he was on the road. When you met Joshua over 6 months ago, he was very upfront about his lifestyle before things got serious. His career kept him constantly traveling to different cities almost weekly so it was hard for him to lay down a lasting foundation. This had been a problem for him in previous relationships. He told you that he didn't want to end up hurting anyone else or himself so he had sworn off relationships for a while. You two were only supposed to have had a situationship type of thing. It was just supposed to have been two people enjoying each other's company.

But real feelings always have a way of showing up uninvited. Before you knew it you two had fallen for each other. It took you by surprise the most because you never expected to fall so deeply for a man you met in a Waffle House on a drunken night out with your girls. After a long honest talk, you and Joshua decided to try at a relationship even with all of the obstacles you both knew would be in front of you.

But truthfully, the only real obstacle was time. That was something you were already privy to before going in so you never complained. But that didn't stop you from missing the hell out of him anytime he was away. The longing grew more intense when the sun was down and tonight was no different. You were laying here wide awake rewatching Insecure with nothing but Joshua Fatu on your mind. You craved him tonight in a way that was hard to ignore.

And boy did you try.

Maybe it was because you were ovulating due to your pending time of the month. Or maybe it was just because you loved him. But whatever it was it was unbearable.

Joshua would be back in town tomorrow and would be more than willing to satisfy your needs. You knew that. But tonight...... you just couldn't wait that long. Pushing aside your comforter you got out of bed and walked over to your dresser. You opened the drawer that contained your underwear and rummaged through it for a few seconds. It didn't take long for your fingers to wrap around what you were seeking. With your rose in your hand, you retreated to your bed and quickly climbed in.

God, please close your eyes you thought to yourself before reaching over to your nightstand and grabbing your MacBook. You needed a little help getting in the mood and you knew just what would do it.

You clicked around on your laptop before reaching the private folder you were looking for. You hit play on the file then placed your laptop beside you as you slid down onto your back.

"Why are we recording this" You heard your own voice coming from your laptop followed by the sound of you giggling.

"For fun ... for memories" Joshua's voice answered back.

Now, you weren't crazy enough to let any man get you on camera. That was one of your golden rules. But you did however mutually agree with Joshua to audio record a few of your steamy sessions. You thought it was harmless fun and now you were grateful you had them saved for moments like this since you weren't that into watching porn. You’d rather close your eyes and listen to one of your and Joshua's audios and mentally travel back to that moment.

As you heard the sound of you and Joshua kissing you pulled the oversized shirt, that oddly enough belonged to him, up and slid out of your panties. You kicked them the rest of the way off with your feet as you got more comfortable.

"I been waiting to taste you all damn day baby girl" you heard Joshua's voice say followed by the sound of him lapping up your juices. Your body shuddered at the memory of his talented tongue as you felt an urgent throb build between your inner thighs. You clicked on your rose while you pulled your legs apart. As you reached down to please yourself, for a fleeting moment you wished that Joshua was there.

But unbeknownst to you, he was only a few minutes from your apartment. In a rare turn of events, he was able to travel home a day earlier from his wrestling event than he had in mind. When he arrived back in the city nearly an hour ago, he dropped by his apartment, freshened up, and got right back on the road headed your way. He missed you fiercely and knew you had to be feeling the same way.

He wanted to call and tell you all about it but he thought surprising you with his sudden presence would be better since he rarely got the chance to do so. It pained him to ignore your message about missing him a little while ago but he didn't want to spoil the surprise. But he had a few ways in mind on how he would make it up to you.

Pulling into your apartment complex he quickly found his regular parking spot. He turned his engine off and then grabbed the duffle bag that contained a few day's worth of clothes knowing he would be staying with you for the next couple of days. He damn near jogged up to your apartment powered by his readiness to see you. When he got outside your door he put the code into the lockbox that contained your spare key. He used it to unlock your front door and then returned it to where he found it. He put his hand on your doorknob and quietly eased into your apartment locking the door behind him. He figured you might be asleep right now and only planned on waking you after he slid into your bed and wrapped you in his arms.

He dropped his duffel bag near your sofa and lightly walked towards your bedroom. As he neared your door he heard something that immediately made him stop in his tracks. He leaned his ear towards your slightly cracked door thinking that he was hearing things.

He listened for a few seconds.

No, he wasn't tripping. Those definitely were the sounds of your moans. He knew that like the lyrics of his favorite song.

Beyond curious he cautiously pushed your door open just a little further. Clearly, you were preoccupied and he didn't think you would notice and you didn't. He was able to gain a full view of your bed and what you were doing on it. You were so wrapped up in chasing your climax that the figure looking at you through the slit in your door went unseen. Through the glow of your tv and laptop, he watched your chest heave up and down and your legs shake as you pressed the rose he didn't even know you owned against your clit.

Joshua traveled so much that he figured you had to do something to hold yourself over until he got back but he never thought he'd be witnessing it. He listened to your moans as he watched your body jerk and twitch in a way he thought only he was capable of doing.

Despite the growing bulge in his pants that he had to reach down to adjust, he found that the sight filled him with unwarranted jealousy. Here he was rushing to get back to you and you didn't seem to be missing him at all. In fact, it looked like he was the last thing on your mind. He knew that it was selfish of him to expect you to wait for him to fulfill your sexual needs but part of him wished you did. If anyone or anything was going to make you shake and moan like that he only wanted it to be him. He felt like it was his job and right now you were giving it away.

As he kept his eyes on you he fought extremely hard against the urge to burst into your room to ruin your moment. He knew that you might be agitated or even mad but he would make it up to you by making you cum countless times like he was known to do. And that would set everything straight.

He hesitated for a long while but ultimately with reluctance decided against it.

Taking a step away from your door he waited until he heard the high-pitched moan of you cumming before he walked back towards your front door. Unlocking it again he grabbed the doorknob opening and closing it louder to get your attention. He had plans to bring up what he saw but not just yet.

Your eyes jolted open from your state of bliss at the sound. Still feeling the effects of your climax you sat up as quick as you could manage and reached over and clicked on the lamp beside your nightstand.

"IT'S ME." you surprisingly heard your boyfriend Joshua's voice yell. You were relieved because, for a split second there, you thought it was an intruder. Joshua was not supposed to be showing up to your apartment tonight.

The distance between your front door and bedroom wasn't that far so you had no time to find and put your panties back on. They were somewhere tangled in your comforter and sheets. But you did have time to slide your rose underneath your pillow, throw your comforter across your lap, and close your laptop before Joshua neared your door.

"Hey baby........ how are you here?" you asked him as he entered your room. You knew that he had one more night away from you so you were a little confused. But maybe there was a change in plans that you didn't know anything about.

But the hows became irrelevant as your heart swelled at the sight of the man you loved.

You wanted so badly to jump into his arms but your legs were still weak from what you were doing no longer than 5 minutes ago. You didn't want to risk wobbling or falling. That would definitely tip off to Joshua that you were in here up to no good. And you didn't want him to know that you were just in here masturbating. It seemed immature but you would be so ashamed if he found out.

You thanked God that he didn't show up to your apartment just a few minutes earlier or he would've caught you right in the middle of the act.

You pushed those thoughts aside as you watched him step out of the Nike slides he had on before walking over to your bed and standing there.

"You not happy to see me?" He asked you. The way it came out sounded like he had a little bit of an attitude. You were clueless on why he would have one with you so you ignored it and chalked it up to you over analyzing the situation because of what he almost caught you doing. And you knew he was most likely questioning your happiness to see him because you didn't dive into his arms like usual. On any other day, you would've been out of your bed meeting him in the living room.

"I'm always happy to see you, Josh." You answered him with a reassuring smile. You couldn't physically show him right now so you had to choose the right words.

"Umm ..... what you doing up this late though?" He asked you.

"Couldn't sleep." You responded.

"So what you been doing to pass the time?" He asked squinting his eyes at you a little.

"I've been watching Insecure..... like always" You answered him jokingly as you pointed towards your TV where Issa's crazy life was still playing out on your screen.

"That's all?" Joshua asked while raising his brows at you.

As your eyes remained locked on his you weirdly started to feel like you were under interrogation. You searched your brain but couldn't figure out what for. But it definitely seemed like Joshua was trying to get something out of you.

What though?

The only other thing you were doing before he showed up felt too personal and embarrassing to say out loud so you had no plans on disclosing it to him.

"Yep.... that's pretty much all," you replied to him lying while you shrugged your shoulders. Joshua stared at you for a moment longer before walking over to the side of the bed that you were on.

"That's funny 'cause that's not what I saw." He stated as he sat down near you. His words caused your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach but you had to keep your composure.

"And what did you see?" you asked him already feeling like you knew the answer but needing the confirmation before you started freaking out. Without immediately responding Joshua just looked into your eyes with a smirk and it all started making sense. You felt like you were being interrogated earlier because you were. Joshua already knew the answer to everything he was asking you because he already knew what you had been up to.

You wondered how in the hell did he know though ....

After a few seconds of shuffling things around in your brain, you put two and two together and figured Joshua must've come into your apartment a whole lot earlier than he made known. You were so consumed with pleasuring yourself that your apartment could've been on fire and you wouldn't have moved a muscle. So you damn sure didn't hear him entering your apartment or coming near your door. You noted to yourself that you needed to be more attentive the next time or at least tackle the basics like closing and locking your damn bedroom door. But you weren't expecting Joshua tonight so you didn't think you needed to be that cautious.

"I didn't even know you had one of those things," Joshua said bringing you out of your thoughts as he reached beside you and started running his hand over your comforter. When he didn't find what he was looking for there he then moved towards your pillows.

"Okay." you quickly said while grabbing his hand before it made contact with your rose. It clicked in your mind that that's what he was feeling around for.

"If you already knew what I was doing .... why you come in here like Inspector Gadget?" you asked him.

The thought of him seeing you in that intimate moment was sending waves of crippling embarrassment through you. Joshua was your boyfriend and had seen you in way more compromising positions but this whole ordeal was still awkward as hell to you. Discovering that something you thought you were doing in private wasn’t as hidden as you thought is a deeply embarrassing feeling.

But you still wanted to be mature about everything.

"I just wanted to see what you would say. No wonder you in here acting like you didn't miss me. You got me replaced." he said.

You searched his face for more amusement because he was clearly getting a kick out of all of this but to your surprise, he actually looked rather serious.

"Wait ... you accusing me of replacing you with an object?" You asked him after you two silently stared at each other for a few minutes. This realization overshadowed any embarrassment you felt about the situation. Now you understood why he seemed to have had an attitude with you when he first entered your room. He saw you with your rose and got jealous. It was taking everything in you not to laugh in his face.

"It's okay for you to enjoy yourself when I'm not here. I understand it. But I'm just saying you were enjoying yourself a little too much." He stated still serious as a heart attack which made it a lot harder to contain your laughter.

"Josh you're not being replaced." You chuckled as you placed your hand on his shoulder to reassure him not believing you actually had to do so. You couldn't believe that this was a conversation you two were actually having.

"I only pull it out when I miss you and I can't stand it anymore," you told him.

"I don't think you understand how badly I want you when you're not here Josh" you added with honesty as your eyes locked on each other's. Yeah, there were certain things you could do to try to pacify your desire for Joshua but nothing compared. So for him to feel a way about an object was bonkers to you. But at the same time, you found it kind of cute.

"I'm here now." Joshua responded to you.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" you asked him playfully as the atmosphere in the room shifted.

"Let me show you," he stated as he reached down grabbed your leg, and pulled you closer to him on the bed.

"My bad for coming in here tripping but it was because I missed you, baby girl." He admitted before leaning over and placing a small kiss on your forehead. You smiled at him as he moved down and pecked your nose before moving to your mouth. You two then fell into a kiss that had the passion of two people who hadn't seen each other in years rather than a few days. You relished in the moment knowing you had to make the most of any time you got with him. That was the basics of your relationship. Every single moment counted because he would be on the road again in the blink of an eye.

As Joshua's hands roamed all over your body he tilted his head down and planted soft kisses on your neck. As he tossed your comforter aside he moved back up to slip his tongue into your mouth.

A couple of intoxicating minutes later, Joshua broke the kiss by standing up leaving you needing way more from him. He then posted up on the side of your bed and you giggled as he reached down and pulled you by your ankle to position you in front of him. You then had the pleasure of watching him as he pulled off his hoodie and shirt all in one swift motion. As you took in how absolutely fine he was your inner thighs throbbed needily. Sometimes all it took was just looking at him to leave you soaking.

"Lay back for me Y/N." He requested and you eagerly did as you were told without any hesitation. You scooted up on your bed and laid back in front of him as he positioned himself between your legs. Staring down at you while running his tongue across his lips, he placed one of his hands on your thigh. He slowly trailed his hand up glazing your clit with his thumb which made your legs involuntarily jolt because you were still sensitive from what you were doing earlier. He ran his thumb up and down your clit teasing you for what felt like ages. It made your wetness grow but it also frustrated you. Then he left you feeling desperate and depraved again as he took his attention off of you for a split second to rid himself of his pants and boxers.

He held his dick in one of his hands while he pushed your legs further apart with the other as he repositioned himself. You sucked in a sharp breath as he ran the tip of his dick up and down your entrance coating it in your wetness. Again, he did that for what felt like ages while you laid there desperately needing more.

"Josh" you breathed out his name as he lifted his dick and tapped it down on your swollen clit.

"Please" you urged him as he repeated the same motion with more pressure making you squirm and reach down to grab hold of his wrist.

"Please what?" He asked you while flicking his eyes up to yours. You knew that he knew full well what you wanted but he loved to play this game. He loved to get you a position where you were practically begging for his dick before he gave it to you. And each time you would feed into his ego.

"Fuck me, Josh .... please" you begged with a pout giving him what you knew he was seeking. He smiled down at you and before you could say another word or prepare your self he suddenly gripped you by your hip and sank his full length into you. But you soon found out that Joshua wasn't done with playing with you yet as he pulled out of you and went back to teasing and tapping your clit with the tip of his dick. You laid there beyond frustrated but felt satisfied when he slipped into your wetness again.

"Fuck" you muttered lowly as he eased in and out of you slowly making your body shudder with every stroke.

"Feels good baby?" He asked you as he kept that same deliberate speed while his dick continuously glazed against your g-spot. You nodded at him as you gently bit down on your bottom lip.

"Say it," he told you as he slipped in and out of your wetness.

"It f-feels good Josh. It feels so fucking good." You expressed to him as you felt pleasure filled knots building in the pit of your stomach. Closing your eyes you focused on trying to hold off climaxing as you grew wetter for Joshua as his speed quickened. Your eyes only flew open again when you heard the familiar buzzing of your rose. You looked up at Joshua wondering when and how he managed to reach over and locate it without your knowledge. But you were so drunk on feeling him inside of you that your mind was completely preoccupied.

"W-what are you doing?" you were barely able to ask him as he didn't miss a beat fucking you. His still plunged in and out of your entrance as he held your rose in the hand he wasn't using to hold your legs apart.

"I wanna try something." He responded.

"Try wh-" you began to ask but were completely cut off by Joshua bringing your rose down onto your clit. Now you could handle your rose on its own but combined with Joshua's dick rocking in and out of you, you almost started seeing stars at the sensation.

"J-Josh ... wait ....oooh fuck ..." you moaned out as you reached down and attempted to push his hand away not being able to handle the pleasure. Your attempt failed miserably as Joshua didn't budge. He continued to pound in and out of you as he used your rose on your clit.

"I c-can't J-Josh" you whined out to him as your toes curled and your legs violently shook. You felt tears welling up as your breathing became shallow and your heartbeat accelerated.

"Yes you can ... you got it baby" Joshua encouraged you as he pounded deeper and deeper into your wetness. You tried to take it but the feeling was too powerful for you to comprehend causing your climax to hit you like a tidal wave out of nowhere. All kinds of profanities left your mouth as it felt like you were having an out of body experience.

Joshua was satisfied as he watched you lose yourself as you squirted cum all over his dick. That's when he knew he could use your rose to his advantage.

#jey uso #jey uso x black reader #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x y/n #jey uso x you #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso fic #jey uso smut #black writers

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glossdebut · 3 days ago

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PRICE OF FAME | MYG ★ CH. 2 TEASER

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: You were about ready to give up, your career nowhere near what you dreamed it’d be when you started at eighteen, bright-eyed and naive. Reality for you these past few years has consisted of pouting at a camera, ignoring whispers of your name at company events, and ensuring that the stupid, tiny designer purses they keep forcing on you can at least carry a flask. But now, you’re helping a friend in need. For the first time in a long time, it feels like you’re doing something worthwhile with your life. Too bad Min Yoongi, the newest thorn in your side, seems insistent on stopping you. 『 series masterlist 』

✧ TEASER WARNINGS: none!

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: ask and you shall receive! i still don't have a set drop date for this chapter, but i wanted to post this short teaser for y'all anyway since you've been waiting so patiently. i am so thankful for all of the love i'm getting for this series already!!! chapter one is almost at 500 notes which is SO insane. i get so stupidly giddy every time i receive a reply, reblog, or an ask about this series! feedback and interaction keep me writing and i am so looking forward to what all of you think of this teaser. reminder that you can track the tag 'glossdebut updates' to stay updated on drop dates/word counts/etc.!

P.S. just like with all of my teasers, wording is subject to change when the chapter actually comes out <3

✧ TEASER WORDCOUNT: 481 words

✧ STATUS: ongoing

Yoongi hasn’t touched a cigarette since he was twenty one years old.

He picked up the nasty habit at sixteen, when one of his friends doled out African Ice Jacks amongst the group, bragging that his hyung had bought the pack for him. As soon as the lighter was flicked on and the bittersweet taste of bubblegum and tobacco filled Yoongi’s lungs, he was hooked.

It was stupidly easy to get his hands on cigarettes before he was of legal age, even when his friend’s hyung couldn’t supply them for whatever reason. All of the adults around him smoked, including his parents.

It felt as though cigarettes were an extension of his hand, felt wrong when he didn’t have the option to light one up. During school hours, Yoongi’s fingers would twitch on his desk as he waited for his last class to end.

He was a fucking anxious, wound-up kid. Smoking was the only thing that helped, sometimes. If he had a shit day, at least he could have a cigarette.

When the band got signed, though, things changed. Despite the fact that the majority of the population in Korea smoked, celebrities were vilified for it in the media. For whatever fucking reason. Yoongi didn’t care much what the media had to say about him, but he reasoned that it would be pretty stupid to let his dream die over Ice Jacks. So he quit.

It was hard at first, but it’s been five years now. After so much time, it’s rare that cigarettes even cross his mind, even when others smoke around him.

Sitting across the table from you now, though, Yoongi’s fingers twitch just like they had when he was in grade school staring at a clock.

He and the band started frequenting Yoojung Sikdang long before there was any real hope for fame. It was their chosen spot after every practice. The ajumma who owns it knows their names, remembers their orders by heart. Over the years, the only part of the restaurant that’s changed is their autographed photos on the wall. They’ve celebrated every single milestone here, big or small, just the five of them. Alone.

Wrapping up their first world tour should be no different. It’s their biggest milestone yet, and all Yoongi wanted was to eat ssambap with his best friends. Remind himself that none of the fame matters as long as they still have this.

But here you are. Of course. Encroaching on everything Yoongi’s built, everything he holds dear to his heart.

The only time it’s ever been more than the five of them here was the night they signed their contract, accompanied by two label executives. Even if you’re allegedly riding Jeongguk’s dick, no way are you that fucking important.

Yoongi would laugh if he wasn’t so pissed off. You are such a fucking pest. He just can’t shake you off.

✧ TAGLIST: @jajabro @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap @ot72025 @ktownshizzle

@futuristicenemychaos @tea4sykes @sugainmybowl @namjoonsbuspass @wobblewobble822

@yoongiphoria @ohnothisnameisalreadytaken @this-most-assuredly-counts @sugafun @binniesbabe

@1800lxcifrrr @whoa-jo @amarawayne @kimsaerom @bangtangsworld @angellekookie

@jalexad @tarahardcore @valhallawhispers @chimmisbae @notsevenwithyou

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leavemetrappedinacage · 1 day ago

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EVERYTHING WAS A MISTAKE — i. cheater.

⤷ summary: Leaving home isn't hard, coming back to home is, you're determined to find your sister, but Gojo has many things to say to you.

⤷ pairing: yandere!satoru gojo x fem!vampire!reader.

⤷ warnings: angst, abuse (physical assault), a bit of gore, blood, abusive behavior, it's implied that Gojo has assaulted reader other times in the past, gaslighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of death, psychological violence (Gojo is manipulating the reader into thinking that everything is her fault), spoilers (JJK0).

⤷ more information about story: here.

⤷ notes: this chapter is a bit hard to read (it was hard to write too), if you are in an abusive relationship or have just come out of one reading it may cause triggers, so please stay safe. 🤍 (I forgot to post the chapter yesterday, sorry. 😭)

⤷ word count: 2867.

Human lives are bubbles floating on the surface of the water, fleeting, but the life of a vampire is perennial, like the Pinus longaeva, which will last for millennia if it is not uprooted. You let go of Satoru's clothes, to whom you were clinging tightly until recently. The words he said to you seem like a bad joke, but the part of you that knows him knows that he wouldn't lie about such a serious matter. A million possibilities run through your head and none of them seem right. Your older sister is the current head of the clan, she succeeded your mother after her death, she is also married to Satoru's older brother and is therefore part of the Gojo clan by marriage, no one in their right mind would harm her, unless they wanted to provoke a war that they would never win.

In the past, after you broke one of the clan's three taboos, your sister came to understand your side of the story, and although you confessed your sins out of your own mouth without showing remorse, she knew you well enough to know that you would never commit a crime of this proportion unless it was truly necessary, you were hot-headed, not a serial killer. However, there was a limit to her influence, your sister had to withdraw from the investigation not long after, the other investigators claimed there was a conflict of interest and personal motivations on her part because you belong to the same lineage, although you knew very well why they wouldn't allow her to investigate, you comforted her by saying it was all a mistake.

You accepted the death sentence so that her and her family's reputation wouldn't be tarnished by her crimes, but when you found out what they would do with your corpse after your death, you had no choice but to run away. You escaped from prison and left everything behind, so you would never see your family again and would forever be an outcast, but you knew that Gabi, your beloved sister, still had hope.

You fall to the ground on your knees, your heart breaks into a million pieces that you may never be able to put back together, the tears flow endlessly, but you don't make a sound. Your sister once told you: "One day, I will die, and you will be the last member of our family. And when that day comes, you'll miss me so bad when I'm gone, Y/N!" She said it laughing, you didn't care because she was the head of the clan, and just like your mother, she would die of old age with three children or more, but now those words blowing in the wind have taken on a new meaning, as if she knew deep down that it would happen. You put your hand on your chest and lean forward until your face touches the carpet, you open your mouth to scream, there's no strength left in you to do so, only a bitter taste of defeat in your mouth.

Satoru gets down on his knees in front of you and hugs you, you don't pull back because it's the only comfort you can have right now, you cling to him like you're clinging to your last thread of hope, you allow yourself to cry because it's the only thing you can do right now. He's never seen you react like this, you never cry, you didn't shed a single tear at your own mother's funeral, you were like a beacon in the middle of a stormy night, strong and resilient, no one has ever been able to shake you, so seeing you so vulnerable makes him feel he needs to protect you. He lifts your face with both hands and wipes the snot off with the sleeve of his shirt, you're a wreck, but you muster the strength to get up. Now with a clear head, you know you have to solve this problem, no matter what.

"I'm going to kill them all." You mutter, the glow you're carrying fades and gives way to a gloomy aura, you turn away from Satoru, you're planning how to kill these people, there are too many of them and only one of you, but you've been in a similar situation before, so you think it won't be a big problem. "Thanks for warning me, but I don't want you to meddle this time, it's a matter of fa-"

Satoru suddenly interrupts you. You don't have time to associate what happened right away, it was so fast, only then do you realize that he's hit you, you touch your cheek and it's hot and tingling, your ear is ringing as if a bell is inside your head, and it feels like one of your eyes has popped out of your skull because you're not seeing well. You're so bewildered that he has to hold you so that you don't fall to the ground again.

"I don't know what the hell you're thinking, but stop. Now." He gently grabs your face and presses down on your right eye with his thumb in order to put it back in place, and you stand there as if you were a doll being carefully repaired. "You're a hothead, aren't you? God! Are you thinking of killing someone else? I hope not, I don't want to have to do it again." He scolds you, he doesn't like the idea of having to hit you, but you always cross the line, it's so annoying. "If you make a single slip-up, everyone's efforts will be for nothing, your sister's life is at stake and we still don't know the intentions behind the kidnapping, so. Stop. Acting. Impulsively." He spoke slowly and nodded, waiting for you to agree. "Answer me."

"But-"

"Answer." Somehow his aura seemed to pressure you, it's always like this, he says he doesn't want to hit you, but if you keep doing things the way you want, he'll hit you again and again until you stop, you shrug and he sighs. "Y/N... answer me, I won't do it again, so be a good girl and say you won't do anything."

"I won't act on impulse, I promise."

"Yes, yes. I knew you were still a good girl." His tone of voice has changed, the pressure on his shoulders is also gone, he pushes back a lock of hair and kisses your forehead, it's almost as if he's someone else. "I'd love to spend some time with you here, but we have to go now."

"Now?" You hear a pop, Gloria and the children are still waiting for you, you can't leave without saying goodbye, you look around the room for the bread basket and find it completely ruined, you let out a breath of air through your nose. "I couldn't go and see any of you anyway."

"Who are you talking about?" Satoru grabs you from behind and buries his face in your neck, you're tense and stiff, it would be bad if he found out about Gloria, he's not the kind of person who tolerates jealousy. But fortunately he doesn't seem to know, he sees the basket of bread on the floor and remembers the children you greeted earlier. "I didn't know you liked children so much."

"Oh, yes, of course?! So you were stalking me at that time too?" He replies with a 'mhmm', you roll your eyes. "You're awful." You let out a dry, mirthless laugh. "Oh, I never had a chance, did I?"

"I'm glad you know your place." He's so overbearing and arrogant, yet if you had only half the power he has, you'd act like it too. "I'll help the children later if you behave yourself on the journey back."

"Really?" Your shoulders relax, you lean in to look at him, he nods in agreement and you're relieved, but everything has a price...

"But you'll owe me one." He whispers unassumingly. "Two, actually." He holds up two fingers, you choke. "Or have you forgotten that I'm going to have to take you in secret?"

"I thought you were going to give me up! I even thought I would need Suguru's help."

"Of course not!" He shouts, irritated, an icy chill shakes your body, you lower your head and he continues shouting. "What kind of monster do you think I am? I would never hurt you, Y/N. I... I... forget it." He pushes you away and massages his temples, then stops abruptly and runs his hand over his face as if he's just remembered something. "Oh, one more thing, Suguru is dead."

"WHAT?"

"I killed Suguru, he committed some crimes, but nothing compares to the fact that he hid you from me." Satoru lets out an infamous chuckle, you can't believe what he's just told you, but given the circumstances, you know he's not lying, the only person who knew your whereabouts was Suguru. "You remember when you abandoned me, don't you? Didn't you think about me? How I might feel?"

"You weren't the only one I left behind, and-" You start to speak, but he signals you to shut up and stop making excuses he doesn't want to hear.

"But as far as I know you haven't abandoned Suguru, have you?" You feel the air get heavy and Satoru's shadow covers you, he seems much bigger than you or you're feeling too small, you don't know, you go back and grope the tree, there's nowhere to run, you close your eyes and wait, maybe for the next slap or something worse. "He told me everything before he died... so we have a lot to talk about, Y/N."

Mistrust is like a deadly poison that eats away at you from the inside, it makes love grow cold, but it also gives birth to a weed called resentment. There's no fixing something that's been broken, when you put the pieces back together, the cracks and scars of the breakage will be there forever, it will break again if you fill it with water. There is no way to mend the heart of someone who has already been betrayed or abandoned.

Satoru look at you with a fake smile, the corners of his mouth are twitching, a bad sign, there's no escape for a change, there's only the two of you on this deserted house, even if there was someone here no one would come to save you, there's no place you can use to hide, but there's no way and no reason to hide when the Six Eyes are looking for you. You open your mouth, but give and accept that there is no other option but to stay quiet, he seems satisfied with your decision, the smile on his face widens.

"Satoru..."

"You cheated on me." He repeats with tears in his eyes.

"WAIT, WHAT? I never cheated on you." You choke, you don't know if he's making it up or Suguru said something that made him get it all wrong. "I don't think this is the time or the moment to talk about it."

"But I do." He retorts. "You disappeared for ten years, Y/N. DAMNED. TEN. YEARS!" He puts a lot of emphasis on that. "You didn't try to contact me during that time, you didn't even make an effort to make me try to understand your side, but..." He paused dramatically. "There was enough space for Suguru to continue in your life. Do you know how painful it was to find out from him that you'd been in contact and seeing each other for all those years?" He frowns and laughs like a maniac. "What about me, Y/N? I was alone in the dark for ten years. I had no news of you, I didn't know where you were, how you were or if you were even alive, but he knew because he told me before he died." He scratches the back of his neck and bites his lower lip. "You didn't even bother to break up with me."

"You turned your back on me first! You spent weeks ignoring me before everything happened and-"

"Because YOU were hiding things from ME!" He shouts and points at you accusingly. "I never knew your side because you didn't trust me enough to open up to me, your own boyfriend." He uses both hands to point at himself, the veins in his neck and forehead bulging, he's furious. "But Suguru knew, because you told him everything, didn't you? You even asked for help to escape."

You choke, you don't know if Suguru revealed all the details to him, but your mind goes blank like a blank canvas for lack of arguments, you can't retort, because what he's saying is the truth, at no point did you consider the possibility of trying to contact him, you didn't explain why you killed all those people in the first place, you just accepted the fact that he hated you and decided to walk away without saying a word. Who told you he hated you? Did he really think you were a monster? The fine line between what was true and what wasn't was so thin that you couldn't tell the difference anymore.

"I forgave you for killing those people and for running away, but this..." He points at you and for a portrait of you and Suguru on the bedside table, then makes a cutting sign with his hands, shaking his head frantically. "I'll never forgive that. Never."

"I'm sorry."

"It's too late to say you're sorry." Satoru reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black blindfold. "You never really loved me, did you? You loved him, I was just... an idiot. That's the truth. I was just a substitute for him."

You see the tears streaming down his face, he brushes them away with the back of his hand as if he doesn't want you to see him cry, you feel your stomach lurch, you don't have the courage to approach him, it's bad enough to know that everything that happened in the past was a big misunderstanding, to be abandoned and in a way betrayed, you can't measure his pain. And although you have your share of the blame for his suffering, he has to understand that you were on the run, many came after you to kill you, familiar faces, you have a lot of traumas to carry, and you don't want or need to carry the weight of this ill-fated relationship, but you can't help it.

"I expected a little loyalty from you. But you're one of them." Satoru refers to the fame of vampires and their multiple partners, but you're not like the others, you really only loved him, but he's so blinded by hatred that he can't see. You love him so much that you trusted him with your life. "You... you cheating bitch, I did everything for you, I... I even tried to forgive you for it, but then you started thinking about going after him? HAHAHA, I'm really stupid."

"I'm not a cheater. I've NEVER cheated on you." A lump forms in your throat, you can barely defend yourself against these unfounded accusations, based on jealousy and paranoia, you sniffle and wipe away tears that wanted to escape from your eyes. "I swear, I never did that, I-" 'love you' You continue the sentence mentally.

You endured everything in silence for fear of sharing the burden with someone else, because you are afraid to lose everyone, but you also believe that if you had been honest from the beginning, he would have understood you, and maybe your sister wouldn't have had to go through what you're going through now, but now it's too late to be honest.

"You just used me and are still using me for your own gain, you just want to ensure your sister's safety and leave. Like everyone else... I'm just a tool for you."

"That's not true, stop it."

The truth hurts, and he's telling the truth, from the beginning you thought of him as a tool to find your sister, but not everything is true, you also want to spend time with him, since finding him again has ignited something inside you, but you don't have the strength to go against him. You take a step forward and he moves away, you reach out to touch him and he rejects you, it's so painful that you'd rather he hit you, you grab his hand and he's so cold, so distant, as if an abyss were separating you. You open your mouth to beg for forgiveness once again, but you feel a stinging pain in your head and heart, a buzzing in your ears makes you dizzy and makes you scream hysterically, your nose and ears began to bleed non-stop.

"Y/N?" Satoru's voice becomes distant and his image blurs. "Y/N?! Are you all right?"

"I... I... I feel... so... sorry... I... will... tell you... everything..." Your vision suddenly darkens.

The last thing you hear is Satoru's voice shouting your name.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #yandere jjk #jjk gojo #yandere gojo x reader #satoru x you #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere x reader #yandere satoru x reader #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader

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v6quewrlds · 3 hours ago

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❝ borderline, j. burrow & t. higgins. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: working in and around the nfl for years, there aren't many people in the league who can knock you off your game. by some twist of fate, two of them show up together, hoping to lure you into their orbit.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: as requested by an anon <3 pls don't read if you're uncomfortable with this concept. didn't really know how to end this one so it's ambiguous lmao did this lowkey give me an idea for a pt 2? maybe. joe calls reader "sweetheart", tee calls reader "baby".

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, friends to lovers (?) the plural is intentional, threesome, fingering, eiffel tower but not really, blowjob, face fucking, cum eating, facial, somewhat dom!joe, switch!tee, pre-meditated threesome if you squint, praise kink.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x reader x tee higgins.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.8k.

You walked through the grand hotel lobby, your stilettos clicking against the marble floor. Your emerald green dress clung to your body like a glove, drawing the occasional admiring glance. You had looked forward to this wedding the entire season, eager to see your favorite players and closest friends all congregated in one place. As a sports journalist, you had become accustomed to the glitz and glamour of high-profile events, but this one felt different. It was personal.

The reception area was a flurry of activity as guests mingled and waitstaff glided around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and sparkling drinks. The scent of expensive perfumes and cologne hung in the air, mixed with the faint aroma of roasting meat from the nearby dining hall.

You spotted your close friend Bree chatting with a few other guests, her eyes lighting up when she caught sight of you. Bree waved you over, gesturing to the table you had been assigned. To your surprise, Joe Burrow and Tee Higgins, two of the Cincinnati Bengals' star players, were already seated at the table, sipping on their drinks and looking dapper in their tuxedos.

"Hey, y'all," you greeted them with a bright smile, placing your clutch on the table. "I didn't know you two were close to Amber and Dan."

Joe's smile was warm, but his sarcasm was as sharp as ever, his eyes crinkling as he took a sip of his whiskey. "To be honest, I'm not sure why I was invited. Maybe they felt sorry for me because I don't get out much." The admission drew chuckles from the rest of the table, but you knew him well enough to detect the hint of self-deprecating playfulness in his voice.

Tee spoke up next, his signature soft-spoken confidence unwavering even amidst the buzz of the crowded room. "I've known Amber since college, actually. Her sister dated my roommate." He leaned back in his seat, a glass of champagne in hand, his eyes lingering on your face as he took a sip. "You close with Daniel?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of pride as you thought of your career achievements. "Yeah, I've had some pretty memorable interviews with him. The sit-down I did with him after his knee injury helped me land my gig on First Take." You took a sip of your own drink, the cool liquid doing little to quell the heat rising in your cheeks as you weathered the intense gazes of the two athletes.

"How sweet," Joe said with a smirk, raising his glass of whiskey in a mock toast. "Is that why you swore he was league MVP last season?"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from your chest. "Okay, okay, I might have been a bit biased. But I owed him for that interview," you took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid sliding down your throat, your eyes dancing with mischief. "Were you jealous?"

Joe's smirk grew wider, his blue eyes flickered over to Tee's brown ones before moving back to find yours. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his hand landing casually on your thigh, sending a jolt of excitement through your body. You felt the heat rising from his palm through the thin fabric of your dress, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.

As if sensing it was his turn to flirt with you, Tee leaned closer, his hand ghosting against your shoulder as it fell over the back of your chair. "How's First Take going for you? Still holding your own against Stephen A?" His voice was a smooth rumble, and you couldn't help but smile, the tension easing a bit.

"I defended you guys last week, you know," you said with a smirk, swirling the ice in your drink. "Told him you're both underappreciated."

Joe's eyes lit up. "You did?" His hand fell heavier around your thigh as Tee's fingers traced lazy circles into your exposed skin, the warmth of their body heat seeping into your very soul. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

The words left his mouth casually, but you felt a flutter in your stomach. Tee's accompanying laugh did little to ease the tension that had suddenly thickened the air around the three of you.

The conversation grew more intimate, their touches lingering longer, the air around you crackling with unspoken desires. You felt the weight of their gazes on you, the way they studied your every move, every breath. It was like being the star of their own private show, and you found yourself playing up to their attention, your laughs a little louder, your movements a little more exaggerated.

Bree had long disappeared into the crowded dance floor, leaving you alone with Joe and Tee. Your conversation grew quieter, and more intimate, as you shared stories of your lives outside of football. You felt a strange connection with the two men, a bond that extended beyond the superficial. You tried your best to ignore the heat building between your legs as Joe's fingers traced patterns into your bare skin. Tee's thumb pressing into the pressure point at the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

The music grew louder, the rhythm pulsing through the floor and into your bodies. The lights grew dimmer, casting a seductive glow over the three of you. You found yourself leaning into Tee's touch, your eyes locked onto Joe's as he spoke about his most recent charity event for his foundation. His words cast a sharp contrast with the deep, soothing, seduction of his voice.

The conversation grew more flirty, Joe's hand sliding further up your thigh under the cover of the tablecloth. You gasped, trying to keep your cool, but the heat of his touch was like a brand on your skin. Tee noticed your reaction and leaned in, whispering something to Joe that made his eyes darken with desire.

"You good?" Tee asked, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. You nodded, your voice a little shaky. "Yeah, I'm okay." But you weren't okay; your nerves were on fire, the anticipation building like a storm in your chest.

The tension at the table grew so thick it was almost tangible, your eyes speaking volumes in the dimly lit room. When Joe leaned in closer, his breath a warm caress against your neck, you couldn't resist anymore. You turned to him, your eyes asking him a silent question, unwilling to potentially tip off a noisy guest to your newfound chemistry. Tee watched, his own desire evident in the way he licked his lips, his hand moving from your neck to squeeze your other thigh.

Recognizing the confirmation in Joe's eyes, your head turned to look at Tee, the same question in your eyes. He answered it with a smoldering gaze that left no room for doubt. "Come with us," he murmured, his voice a seductive invitation that sent a thrill through your body.

The three of you stood as one, the two men flanking your sides like bodyguards, guiding you through the sea of wedding guests. The music grew louder, the rhythm beckoning you to the dance floor, but you had other plans. Your heart raced as Joe's hand slid down your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your ass, while the back of Tee's hand brushed against yours. The electricity between you was undeniable, a current that could light up the entire hotel.

The three of you moved through the crowd, the warmth of your bodies pressing together, the heat of your desire almost too much to handle. When you reached the elevator, the tension was unbearable. Joe's hands pulled your back flush against his chest, making you gasp as his strong hands wandered across the material of your dress. Tee stood in front of you, his hand tipping your head back as he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was anything but casual. The doors closed, and the world outside was forgotten.

The elevator ride was a blur of hands and lips, the three of you exploring each other's bodies like you had been waiting for this moment your entire lives. Your dress was hiked up, Joe's hand slipping under your panties to feel the wetness that had pooled there. Tee's hand found your breasts, kneading them gently as Joe whispered sweet nothings into your ear. The ding of the elevator arriving at Tee's floor brought you back to reality with a jolt. You stumbled out into the hallway, breathless and desperate.

Tee fumbled with the keycard, the anticipation almost too much to bear. You giggled as Joe muttered low and bitter under his breath, "Take your time, buddy."

The door finally clicked open, and the three of you tumbled into the room, a whirlwind of lust and passion. The lights were dimmed, casting a seductive glow across the plush king-sized bed. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched the two men, both so powerful on the field, look at you with a hunger you hadn't seen before.

Joe took the lead, his eyes dark with desire as he approached you, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you against his firm chest. His kiss was demanding, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he could taste your thoughts, your fears, your desires. Tee's hands were on your shoulders, pushing the dress down your arms, exposing your bare breasts to the cool air. You gasped as Joe's mouth moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as his hands found your nipples, ghosting his fingertips over the peaks.

"Hold on," you said, placing a hand on Joe's wrist to still his movements. You took a deep breath, your eyes searching theirs for any sign of doubt. "Are you two sure that if I do this, there won't be some blonde chick harassing me on Instagram afterward?"

"You know we don't do drama. That's the last thing we need before the season," Joe assured you, his hands sliding up your arms to cup your shoulders. "We're just here to have a good time." His voice was a low purr, his gaze intense.

Tee stepped closer to you, a tattooed hand reaching up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "We promise, baby," he whispered, his eyes dark with lust. "This is just about us, right here, right now."

You searched their eyes, the room spinning with a mix of excitement and trepidation. You nodded slowly before speaking up again, "Okay, no pics, no videos, and this stays between the three of us. Agreed?"

"Scout's honor," Joe murmured, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you closer.

Tee leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, almost chaste kiss. The room felt electrified as your body responded instinctively, your hands moving to rest on his broad chest. You could feel Joe's erection pressing against your back, his breath hot against your neck as he watched the exchange. The heat of their bodies, the scent of your desire, and the promise of what was to come washed over you like a wave.

"You guys are playing with fire," you murmured against Tee's mouth, but the smirk that played on his lips told you he knew exactly what he was doing. He broke the kiss, a knowing look passing between the two men. You gasped, pushing back against Joe as his hands found your tits, his palms squeezing them roughly, thumbs brushing against your nipples through the fabric of your dress.

"We know," Joe whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "But sometimes, you've gotta risk getting burned." His hand slipped down to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, inch by torturous inch. The cool air of the room hit your bare back, making your skin pebble with goosebumps.

Tee stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to unbutton his shirt, his muscles rippling with every movement. You felt a rush of arousal as he revealed his sculpted chest, the ink on his skin telling a story of strength and resilience. He slid the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and you couldn't help but bite your lips in anticipation.

"You're so fuckin' sexy," Joe murmured, his hand slipping into your hair as he pulled you in for another kiss. You moaned into his mouth, feeling Tee's hands on your hips as he turned you to face him. The two men moved around you like a perfectly choreographed dance, each touch setting your skin on fire.

The two men took turns kissing you, each one's touch different yet equally electrifying. Joe's kisses were demanding, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that made your legs tremble. Tee's were soft and gentle, his lips brushing yours in a way that made you feel cherished. Your hands roamed over their broad chests, feeling the firmness of their muscles beneath the warm skin.

Tee stepped away, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you. "Damn, baby," he breathed, reaching out to trace the curves of your breasts. His thumbs brushed against your nipples, making them peak. Joe's hands slid down your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall away. The cool air made you gasp, your breasts bouncing slightly as you were exposed to them in nothing but the flimsy excuse for panties you had chosen for the night.

The tension in the room was thick, the anticipation almost a tangible force. You felt their eyes on you, the weight of their desire a heavy presence that made your knees weak. You stepped out of your heels, the impact of your bare feet on the carpeted floor leaving the football players towering over you.

"Get on the bed," Tee murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You obeyed, your legs feeling like jelly as you crawled onto the plush mattress. As you sat, perched and pretty, on the comforter, Joe began to undress, allowing Tee to make the first move.

Tee's eyes never left yours as he approached, his tuxedo jacket tossed aside and his bow tie undone. His large, strong hands reached for you, gripping your ankles and yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You felt the heat from his body as he leaned in, his warm breath fanning your face as he whispered, "You're so fucking beautiful."

His words sent a shiver through you as he pushed your thighs apart, revealing your damp panties. Joe stepped closer, his own pants undone, his erection straining against his boxer briefs. He reached out, sliding one finger along the lacy fabric before hooking his thumbs into the waistband and pulling them to the side, exposing you to their hungry gazes.

"Goddamn," Tee whispered, his eyes locked on your nakedness. Joe's dick grew harder in his briefs as he watched his friend's reaction, his own desire mirrored in the tightness of Tee's jaw. Your heart was racing, your chest rising and falling with anticipation. You felt a thrill run through you as you watched their reactions, your own anticipation reaching a fever pitch.

"Prettiest pussy you've ever seen, huh?" Joe said with a smirk, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of your bare skin. Tee nodded, unable to form coherent words as he stared.

You felt a warmth creep up your neck as you both took a moment to appreciate your body. You had always felt confident in your own skin, but the raw, carnivorous hunger in their expressions was something you had never experienced before. It was like they were really seeing you for the first time, and the thought of being desired by two such powerful, successful men was a heady aphrodisiac.

The room grew quiet, and the only sound was the rustle of clothes being removed. Your breathing grew shallow as Joe knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly peeled off your panties. Tee sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over your exposed flesh with a look that made you quiver with anticipation. You could see his cock, thick and hard, straining against his boxers.

"You're so beautiful," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your thigh. He placed a soft kiss to your inner thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. Tee leaned in, his warm breath caressing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his hand moving to cup your breast. You felt like you were in a dream, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in as Joe's tongue found your clit.

Their touches grew more urgent, more demanding, as they worked in tandem to bring you to the edge. Your hips began to rock, your body responding instinctively to the sensations they were creating. You felt Joe's hand slip between your legs, his fingers teasing your folds before sliding inside you, the feel of his thick digits stretching you and setting your body alight. Tee's mouth found yours, a heavy hand reaching to squeeze at the sides of your neck, your moans muffled by his kisses.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Joe's thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the expertise of a maestro conducting an orchestra of pleasure. Tee's tongue danced with yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. You felt yourself spiraling closer to the precipice, your body tightening around Joe's hand.

The room was a whirlwind of sensations: the scent of their cologne, the sound of fabric shifting, the feel of Joe's calloused hands on your skin. It was almost too much, and you were lost in a haze of pleasure when Tee broke away, leaving you gasping for air.

"Gonna come, baby?" Tee's question was a breathy murmur in your ear, his hand moving from your neck to cup your cheek as he watched your face contort with pleasure. You could only nod, unable to form words as Joe's fingers worked their magic.

Your eyes locked onto Tee's above you as you felt Joe's thumb press down hard on your clit, your body arching off the bed as your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you in an explosion of color and sensation. You moaned weakly, your pussy clenching around Joe's hand as you rode the peak, your nails digging into the mattress.

When you finally came down, Joe withdrew his hand, a smug smile on his face. As if sharing a sense of telepathy, the two men stood up simultaneously to remove their boxers, revealing their generous lengths. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight, your heart racing with excitement and nerves.

"Make some room for me," Tee said with a mischievous smile, sliding onto the bed behind you as you sat up. His hand traveled down your body, his thumb brushing the swollen bud of your clit before sliding two fingers inside you. You gasped as he began to pump them in and out, his touch gentle yet firm.

Joe, who had stepped up to the edge of the bed, watched with darkened eyes as Tee worked his magic. He nodded towards Tee's lap as your eyes fluttered open. "You gonna get on top, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. You licked your lips, nodding eagerly.

With a smile, you shuffled over to Tee, your eyes meeting his hooded browns. You straddled Tee's thighs, feeling his hardness beneath you. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you, his breathing heavy, before he leaned up and kissed you again, his tongue dancing with yours. You could feel Joe's eyes on the two of you, his gaze burning into your skin as you reached down to stroke Tee's dick before sinking down on it with a moan.

The feel of him filling you sent you both spiraling and you had to bite back a scream as you adjusted to his size. Tee's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as you began to ride him. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with your moans and gasps for air. You leaned back into Joe as he slotted behind you, his hands pressing blistering heat into your skin as he kissed your neck and whispered encouragement into your ear.

Tee pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes hooded with desire as he watched you take him in. He reached up, his hands finding your tits, and began to tease your nipples as you rode him. The sight of you bouncing on his dick, your pussy squeezing him with every move, had him on the edge of his seat, quite literally. You threw your head back, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moaned out Tee's name, feeling the heat of Joe's chest against your back.

Joe's hands began to wander, caressing your body as you moved in rhythm with Tee. His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles that had your pussy spasming around Tee's cock. Your moans grew louder, your body moving faster as Joe's touch grew more insistent. You felt Tee's cock thicken inside you, and you knew he was close.

"Fuck, Joe, you seein' this shit?" Tee's voice was strained, his eyes glazed with pleasure as he watched your body take his length. Joe's only response was a low, feral growl as he continued to tease your clit.

"Perfect fuckin' fit," Joe murmured, his own arousal clear as he lazily stroked himself in time with your rhythm.

Your breathing grew shallow, your eyes locked onto Tee's. You felt Joe's breath against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his fingers worked their magic. "I'm gonna cum," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

"Again?" Tee teased, brown eyes glittering with excitement as he watched your body tense with the approaching wave of pleasure. "I ain't complaining, but you're gonna wear me out." Your face grew hot as you felt the dual pressure of Tee inside you and Joe's thumb on your clit, pushing you to the edge.

"I can't help it," you panted, "you two are just too much."

Joe's chuckle was a dark promise against your ear. "We're just getting to the good part," he half promised, half teased, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

The room was a whirlwind of sensation: the slick slide of skin, the scent of arousal, the heat of two men surrounding you. Finally, you threw your head back again, your dark hair fanning out against Joe's pale shoulder as you came, your pussy clamping down on Tee's cock.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the orgasm ripped through you, drawn out by the feel of both Joe and Tee's hands on you. You barely registered Tee's cock slipping away from your heat, chuckling darkly as Joe watched your body spasm with pleasure. The quarterback muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Fuck me," and you felt a shyness creep over your cheeks, even in the throes of passion.

"Stand up for me, sweetheart," Joe finally murmured, his voice thick with desire. You complied, your legs shaky as Joe helped you to your feet. Tee leaned back on his elbows, his cock still throbbing against his stomach, glistening with your combined arousal.

Joe's hands slid around your waist, positioning you to face Tee. He whispered in her ear, "Suck his cock, baby. Make him feel good."

Your eyes widened, but the desire in Joe's voice and the way Tee's eyes lit up at the suggestion made your body respond immediately. You leaned over the edge of the bed as Tee scooted backward to allow room for your chest to rest on the sheets between his spread legs. Carefully, Tee swept your hair up into a crude ponytail, giving him an unobstructed view of your beautiful brown skin and the way your back arched with anticipation.

Your mouth hovered over Tee's cock, your breath warm against the sensitive flesh. His hands tangled in your hair, guiding you down as you took him in. Your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked him in deep, your eyes closing delicately as you moaned around the taste of your arousal coating his length.

Joe's hand trailed over your skin to squeeze at your ass, sliding his cock to nestle in your warm pearl. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he murmured, his voice a gruff rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You moaned around Tee's cock, the vibrations making him twitch with pleasure. Tee's grip tightened in your hair, guiding your movements as he guided your head up and down his length, his eyes tracing over your blissed-out expression.

Your bodies moved in harmony, a symphony of passion and desire that had been building since you first set eyes on each other that evening. The room was a whirlwind of sensations - Joe's calloused fingers digging into your skin, Tee's cock sliding in and out of your mouth, and the smell of your combined arousal. You felt like you were floating, weightless and free, as you gave in to the moment.

With a surge of energy, you lifted from Tee's dick, swirling your tongue around his mushroom tip with a self-indulgent smile. Joe's eyes lit up as he watched you, his own arousal evident as he continued thrusting into you. Tee's chest heaved as he took in the sight of you, his abs clenching with the effort to hold back.

"What the fuck?" Tee's eyes went wide with shock and arousal as he watched your teeth graze lightly over the most sensitive part of him, your eyes all innocent and pure as you gazed up at him. He didn't know what was happening, but his body was definitely on board. Your tongue flicked out, licking up the precum that beaded at the tip of his cock, making him grit his teeth in an attempt to keep from coming too soon.

Joe's breath was hot against your neck as he whispered, "Take him all the way in, baby," his hands on your hips pushing you down slightly. You obeyed, taking Tee deep into your mouth, the sound of your wetness as Joe fucked you from behind echoing through the room.

The sensation was overwhelming, the taste of Tee combined with the feeling of Joe's cock deep inside you making you moan around the head of Tee's dick. The vibrations sent his bottom lip between his teeth, his head dipping back with a strangled groan, nostrils flaring with concentration. You felt Joe's grip tighten, his thrusts growing more erratic as he approached his own climax. Tee's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your pussy clench around Joe's cock.

"Fuck," Tee hissed as your head bobbed up and down, your cheeks hollowing with each suck. The sight of your full lips stretched around his length and Joe's hand guiding you was more than he could handle. His own hand tightened in your hair, his hips jerking involuntarily.

"So good," you moaned around Tee's cock, your body trembling with the force of Joe's thrusts. Your third orgasm was building, a storm gathering on the horizon, ready to unleash its fury at any moment. Tee's hand stroked your cheek, the sweetness of his touch a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic need driving Joe.

"Good girl," Joe groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he watched you take Tee's cock deeper into your mouth. He could feel you tightening around him, your body begging for release. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen," the quarterback whispered, his voice thick with lust.

Tee's eyes rolled back, lost in the pleasure of your mouth. His hand on the back of your head grew more insistent, his hips bucking slightly as he approached climax. Your eyes watered, but you didn't pull away, your own pleasure building with every gag and moan you muffled around Tee's dick.

"Oh, shit," he moaned, his voice a deep, guttural sound that sent another shiver down your spine. You felt Joe's cock thicken even more inside you, his hips stuttering as he fought to hold back.

"Bet she dreamed about this, Tee," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck. You felt Tee's cock twitch in your mouth at the words, his eyes dark with desire.

"I know she did. Drooling all over my dick like this. Lookin' all pretty," Tee chuckled, his voice strained with arousal.

With that, Joe took over once again. He pulled you off Tee's cock, laughing out loud as his wide receiver shot him a sour look. "Joe," he groaned holding his hands up in protest, but Joe was having none of it.

You felt the warmth of Joe's breath on your neck as he leaned in to whisper, "Gonna look so much prettier with his cum all over your pretty face, gorgeous."

The thought sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you moaned out loud, closing your eyes as you tried to will yourself to hold off on your burgeoning orgasm. Tee's eyes widened as he caught onto Joe's words, a devious smirk playing on his lips.

The tension in the room grew palpable as Tee's hand on the back of your head grew firmer, guiding your movements. You felt his cock swell, the veins pulsing against your tongue. Your eyes watered as you took him deeper, your throat tightening around his shaft. The feeling of being used so thoroughly, by two men who had you pinned and writhing with pleasure, was intoxicating.

"Open that pretty mouth for me, baby," Tee urged softly, his voice thick with lust. You complied, presenting your tongue as Tee's cock slid out of your mouth, leaving a trail of precum. You watched as he stroked himself, his hand moving fast and sure.

"God, you're so fucking sexy," Joe murmured, his eyes locked onto the scene before him. You could feel his breath on your neck, his own arousal leaking into you. The anticipation was unbearable, the room seemingly closing in on you as Tee's strokes grew faster. You felt Joe's hand come down to rest on your lower back, hips stilling as Tee approached his climax.

"Gonna paint that pretty face, baby," Tee warned you, his voice tight with restraint. You nodded eagerly, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the first warm spurt of cum hit your cheek, sliding down to your chin. Tee groaned, his hand moving in fast jerks as he coated you in his release. When he was done, you opened your eyes to find Joe watching you, his own desire clear.

Joe's hand moved from your back to your face, his thumb brushing over your cum-covered cheek. "Taste it," he instructed, his voice a seductive growl. You obeyed, your kiss-swollen lips wrapping around the pad of his thumb, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, feeling the stickiness of Tee's release on your skin.

"You fuckin' liked that, didn't you?" Tee's voice was filled with a mix of pride and satisfaction as he watched you lick his cum off Joe's thumb. Your eyes sparkled with amusement as you nodded, a giggle bubbling out of you. The room was thick with the scent of your combined arousal, your hearts pounding in sync with the pulsing beat of the bass from the party below.

Joe's smile grew wicked. His grip on your hips tightened, his dick still buried deep inside you as he began to move again, slowly at first. You fully moaned out, any shyness completely forgotten as you felt Joe twitch inside you. The power play between them had you more turned on than you'd ever been.

Tee laughed as he finally began to recover from his orgasm. "Go 'head, baby, make Joey cum. I think he worked hard for it." He winked at you, who rolled your eyes playfully. The room was thick with lust, your heavy breathing echoing off the walls.

Joe leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Think he's right, sweetheart?" he questioned, his voice low and rough. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him begin to move again, his strokes deep and deliberate. You moaned around the taste of Tee's cum, the sound muffled by your head falling into the sheets.

"Fuck, yes," you managed to murmur, your hips rocking back to meet him. Joe's chuckle was deep and dark as he picked up his pace, his hands moving to squeeze your sides as he drove into you. Your eyes rolled back in your head, the feeling of being filled with Joe's cock and watching Tee's exhausted, satisfied face was overwhelming.

"Look at me, sweetheart," Joe demanded, his voice strained as he pulled you up against him. Your back arched as you opened your eyes to find his piercing blues staring down at you. "I wanna see your face when I come inside you."

Your eyes locked onto his, the intensity of his gaze setting your body ablaze. You could feel the muscles in your core tightening, your orgasm building with every stroke. Joe's grip on your hips grew fiercer, his movements punctuated by the slap of your bodies meeting. The head of his cock nudged your g-spot with precision, sending sparks through your body.

"Look at me," Joe repeated, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. You did as you were told, your eyes connecting in a silent agreement that this was more than just a casual fling. There was something deeper, something raw and primal that bound you two together in this moment.

The room seemed to spin around you as Joe's thrusts grew more erratic. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, the promise of his climax imminent. You leaned back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust as you threw your head back, your mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut. "I'm gonna cum again." The words were barely out of your mouth before you felt the warmth of Joe's release fill you up. He groaned, his hips bucking against you, his orgasm intense and powerful. Tee watched, his hand still around his cock, stroking slowly as he took in the sight of two of his close friends, lost in their shared passion.

Your body shuddered as the waves of pleasure washed over you, your hands slotting over Joe's as he trailed a hand up to squeeze at the sides of your neck, constricting your airways deliciously. Joe's cock continued to pulse inside you, painting your insides with his seed as your walls fluttered around him. The heady scent of sex filled the air, intoxicating and overwhelming. You felt Joe's grip on your hips ease, his breathing slowing as he pulled out.

Tee's eyes never left yours, his hand still moving languidly on his shaft. He looked up at Joe, a silent question in his gaze. Joe nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, and Tee moved in closer, his hand reaching for your chin. He turned your face to him, and you felt his kiss, soft and gentle, almost tender in contrast to the fiery passion you had just shared with Joe. It sent a refreshing wave of serenity over you, and you melted into it, your body still quivering from the aftershocks of your climax.

"You good?" Tee asked softly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. You nodded, your eyes flicking from Tee to Joe and back again, the gravity of what you had just done settling in. The room was quiet except for your synchronized breathing, and you could feel their eyes on you, watching your every move, every reaction, every twitch of your relaxing muscles.

You felt Joe's weight shift away from you, retreating to the bathroom to grab some washcloths. When he returned, he tossed one to Tee and used the other one to wipe you down gently, his touch surprisingly tender. You looked down at the mess you'd made off the bed, a mix of cum and sweat, and felt a strange sense of pride. These were two of the most eligible bachelors in the NFL, and here they were, sharing you like a treasure.

Your trio lay in a tangled heap of limbs, your breaths syncing as you all came down from the high of your shared experience. The tension of earlier was gone, replaced by a warm, contented silence. You felt a sense of belonging you hadn't known in a long time as Joe's hand trailed lazily across your back and Tee's arm draped over your waist. You were a unit now, bound by a secret that only the three of you knew.

As the reality of what had just transpired began to sink in, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement and a hint of nervousness. You looked between them, two men you had known for years, two men you had never thought of in this way until tonight.

"What the hell just happened?" you murmured, a giggle bubbling up from your chest.

Joe leaned in, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. "I think we just had the best sex of our lives," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. Tee's eyes twinkled with playfulness as he nodded in agreement. "All because of you, baby," he added, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your lips as the teammates reached over your body to dap each other up in shared accomplishment. A "My man," slipped through the quiet from Tee's lips, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. The sight of the two men celebrating their supposed victory, their friendship so clear even in the most intimate of moments, filled you with a strange sense of comfort.

"So, you two wanna explain why you're so good at this?" you teased, poking Joe in the ribs, the blonde squirming at your touch. "It's like you've practiced."

Joe's smirk grew wider. "I think this is pretty close to what we do on the field, you know? That QB-WR connection? We've got it down." His eyes twinkled as he leaned in closer to you. "We just knew what we wanted." His hand traveled down your side, sending a fresh wave of tingles across your skin.

"Once we figured out we both had feelings for you, we figured we could share," Tee whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "You're too much for just one of us to handle anyway." He chuckled, his hand sliding down your thigh. "It doesn't hurt that we make a pretty good team."

"And what would you two have done if I said no?" you asked, your voice revealing a hint of a challenge. You couldn't help the smirk that tugged at your lips as you watched the two men exchange glances, the unspoken communication between them almost comical in its synchronicity.

"I'd fuckin' kill him, he talked me into it," Tee said with a chuckle, reaching over you playfully jostle Joe. "But for real, we knew you'd be down."

Joe's expression grew serious. "We respect you too much to push you into anything." He brushed a lock of hair from your face. "We just wanted to be honest. Let you know how we feel."

You searched their faces, the gravity of their words sinking in. "I appreciate that," you said softly. "But what now? This isn't exactly something you tell people at work when they ask about your weekend."

Joe nodded. "We know. That's why it's just between us. What happens in this room, stays in this room." His thumb traced circles on your lower back, sending shivers up your spine. "But if you're into it, we could keep this going."

Tee leaned in, his voice a gentle rumble against your skin. "Just something casual. No strings, no drama. Just something between us three. We got each other's backs, always."

Your heart raced at the thought. It was risky, especially with your career in and around the league. But the connection you felt with Joe and Tee was undeniable, a potent cocktail of attraction and friendship that you hadn't experienced before. The thrill of secrecy only added to the allure.

"Okay," you said, your voice a hesitant whisper. "But only if we're all clear on the rules. No one outside this room can ever know. Ever."

Joe and Tee nodded solemnly, their eyes locked on yours. "You got it," Joe said, his thumb brushing over your plump lower lip. "Our lips are sealed."

This was fucking insane.

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nerdallwritey · 2 days ago

Text

About to Strike (Part 1)

***IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: ONCE AGAIN I've yapped too much and this chapter became longer than tumblr likes, so I've split it into two posts. It's the same drill as Cheeks All Flushed: The smut is in the other part if you'd rather skip shenanigans and Get To Business. And that's valid! Part 2 is here and also linked down below. Apologies! It IS all in one place on AO3 if you'd prefer that!

Summary: Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink. He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?” “Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira. Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well. “Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet. “You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms. OR The gang finally makes their way into the Shadow Cursed Lands.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 21.3k (This particular part is 10.7k) CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, oral (male receiving), hand job, vaginal fingering, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, protective Astarion, soft Astarion, whimpering Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), lots of party banter, AND JAHEIRA!! Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 and 2 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 6 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find the masterlist here.

a/n: SURPRISE! Part 6 is COMPLETE and she's A LOT. The back half is mainly smut and feelings and Astarion processing emotions a little which we LOVE to see. I hope to the gods that you guys find this to be a good followup to Worth the Peril, but I'm excited to FINALLY be in Act 2 and get into the big romantic scenes that happen there. Thank you all so much for sticking around and loving this goofy version of Astarion and his favorite bard :) You guys are the best and I adore and appreciate every single one of you! Please enjoy these silly little vignettes from the end of Act 1 and the start of Act 2! (Thank you as always to my beta @kermitwazowski for reading!) As a reminder, last time you got Mega Hurt in a fight and Astarion kind of took that personally.

Taglist: Moved to the comment section, since tumblr hates sharing fun with friends - please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!

“Would you relax?” you whispered sharply to the vampire currently brooding to your right.

“How can I be when this… ancient woman just tried to murder you?” Astarion threw a dramatic hand forward, gesturing to Jaheira, who was walking in front of you towards the Last Light Inn. You all had just arrived at the well lit sanctuary in the Shadow Cursed Lands, only to be interrogated by the High Harper, and vouched for by Mol, who’d managed to find her way here as well.

“I handled it,” you hissed. “It’s going to be okay.”

“While I admire your optimism, darling, I still don’t trust her.”

Karlach buzzed behind you, clearly in disbelief. “Mate, you must be joking. That’s the Jaheira!”

Astarion slowed his pace a bit to meet Karlach’s eye. “And, I take it, you know the old crone?”

“Astarion!” Wyll sounded surprised. “You’ve lived in Baldur’s Gate longer than I have! And you don’t know the tales they tell of Jaheira and her party of adventurers?”

Your crew of seven came to a halt in front of a moss covered fountain to gawk at the elf.

He clicked his tongue. “Mmm… that’d be a no.”

“He’s lying,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

“I am not!”

Gale lifted a quizzical eyebrow. “Come now, Astarion, surely you’ve heard passing tales of the heroes of Baldur’s Gate? Or perhaps read a book of their exploits?”

Lae’zel narrowed her eyes. “I do not know of this ‘Jah-hee-rah’ person. Her heroics must not be that impressive if I have never heard of her.”

“Nor I,” Halsin cut in.

“Yes, well, being freakish outsiders from the Astral Plane and the middle of the forest will deprive you of basic history lessons.” Astarion crossed his arms.

You snorted. “So what’s your excuse?” The others snickered.

Astarion placed an annoyed hand on his hip. “Did you all forget that I was kept as a slave for two hundred years of pure misery and torture?”

The group remained silent for a moment before you stepped forward to kiss his cheek. “You’re still not over that?”

He smirked. “Would you believe it’s taking me a little longer than one might expect?”

“Shame,” you pouted. Then you looked at Karlach who was angling her head around the fountain to track where Jaheira had gone. “You want to enlighten these three, Karlach?”

Karlach looked back at you all and her eyes lit up with glee. “Oh, yes please!” She rolled her shoulders and bounced on her feet as if she were preparing for battle, rather than recounting basic Baldur’s Gate history. She cleared her throat before she spoke. “Years ago - over a century-”

You turned to Astarion and caught his eye. A century! your expression seemed to say.

Astarion shrugged his shoulders up to his ears and unwrapped one of his crossed arms to hold dramatically in front of himself. So what?

You rolled your eyes. So you should have been there!

He narrowed his eyes and shook his head. I don’t know what to tell you.

You huffed some hair out of your eyes and tuned back in to what Karlach was saying.

“-Jaheira was part of a group that saved Baldur’s Gate from Seravok - a Bhaalspawn trying to plunge the city into war.”

Once again, you caught Astarion’s eye. “And you don’t recall any of this?”

He pursed his lips as the others turned to look at him. “Now that you mention it, I vaguely recall tensions being rather high around the city all those years ago.”

“Liar,” Shadowheart accused again. “It had to be more apparent than that. Why don’t you just admit you know who Jaheira is?”

Astarion’s response was venomous: “I was kept on a very tight leash, thank you, so apologies for not getting the names of the heroes who ‘saved’ the city that kept me enslaved for another hundred years.”

You approached him quietly and took his hand. He scowled at Shadowheart but wrenched his gaze away to look at you. His expression softened mildly.

“It’s okay,” you said gently. “I’m sure she would have come for you and your siblings had she known.”

“Yes, probably come to kill us for being abominations,” he muttered, but squeezed your hand anyway.

“Ah, don’t be like that, Astarion,” Wyll said cheerfully. “I’m sure she would have helped you! You’re quite fun once you get past all the prickly bits.”

“Gee, thanks,” Astarion said flatly.

Karlach took the awkward silence that followed as an opportunity to keep fangirling. “My mum used to tell us stories all about them - the legends who protected the city from evil. She said Jaheira was a powerful druid. Adamant. Tough.”

“Probably a good ally to have on our side,” you said. Your companions nodded in agreement.

“I’ve told myself those stories thousands of times since,” Karlach continued. “I never thought I’d meet Jaheira. She’s a hero, and I was always… some Outer City kid.”

“Well, excellent news, Karlach,” Gale said. “Given our circumstances and the path we currently find ourselves on, it’s quite possible that we might be considered heroes one day.”

“Chk,” Lae’zel scoffed. “We don’t even know what we’re up against yet. It is likely some of you will perish before we are able to slay this unknown enemy.”

Shadowheart rolled her eyes. “Charming as always, Lae’zel.”

“I am not charming. I am merely stating fact.”

Halsin cleared his throat. “Another druid you say, Karlach?”

Karlach grinned and nodded. “She’s the best! Can’t believe she wants to talk to us about working together. What a day!”

And what a day it had been.

Or, tenday, more like.

~~~~~

The day after you’d told Astarion’s sleeping form that you loved him, he’d been nothing but clingy.

You awoke to find him still curled tightly into your side, but now he was fully awake, his eyes wide and unblinking. It was unnerving.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

He blinked rapidly before an easy grin rested on his lips. “Just making sure you still have a pulse, darling.”

You snorted. “Checking on your food supply, I see.”

Astarion angled his head to nuzzle his nose along your throat before kissing your pulse point. “What can I say,” he murmured against your skin, “we vampires have two instincts, as we learned from that book yesterday: ‘feed and make little vampires.’” He scrunched his face into a silent roar, baring his fangs and forming one of his hands into a claw. He slashed it through the air playfully.

“Yes well, the latter probably won’t be happening for a little while,” you said, shifting to sit up, but wincing in pain over the wound in your torso.

Astarion was rolling off the pillows within seconds and coming around to help you sit up. His eyes were concerned, but he pouted and his voice was teasingly whiny when he said, “Pity.” He rested his forehead against your temple. “I do so miss being inside of you.”

You nearly choked on your own spit, which had him pulling away from you and laughing.

“Whatever,” you muttered, watching as Astarion pulled his shirt over his head.

“Hungry, my sweet?” he asked, still smiling.

“You’re really freaking me out,” you said, giving him a sideways look, “with how nice you’re being.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Fine. Starve.” With that, he exited your tent with a theatrical swoosh of the flaps that acted as a door.

You exhaled a disbelieving laugh, watching as the flaps swished back and forth before settling back into their closed position.

“SHE’S WHAT?!” you heard Karlach shriek, followed by loud, bounding footsteps approaching your tent.

Astarion called after her in annoyance, “Don’t bother her!”

“Soldier!” Karlach’s head and shoulders popped their way into your tent. “So happy you’re awake!”

“Hi Karlach,” you laughed. “I’d get up but-”

Karlach shook her head. “Don’t move a muscle. I’m sure Shadowheart and Halsin will want to change your bandages and pump you full of potions but… I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” you said. “Thank you for helping while I was unconscious.”

“You’d do the same for any of us,” she said earnestly, still on her hands and knees in the entrance of your tent.

You heard a dull thump outside that had Karlach yelping in surprise.

“Out,” came Astarion’s sour tone, his tongue putting extra emphasis on the “t.”

Karlach looked back over her shoulder and then over to you. “He kicked my boot, the bastard! Proper hard, too!”

“I’d do a lot worse if you weren’t a walking furnace.” Another thump informed you that he kicked Karlach’s boot again.

Rather than retreat, however, Karlach settled her elbows into the dirt and rested her head in her hands. “Ask nicely.” She met your eye with a mischievous grin.

You heard Astarion squawk incredulously. “Darling, tell her to move!”

Clearing your throat to keep from laughing, you said firmly, “Astarion. Be nice. That’s my dear friend, Karlach, you’re kicking.”

He muttered something you couldn’t make out, followed by a loud groan.

Through gritted teeth, he said, “Dear, sweet, Karlach-”

“Liking the sound of this,” Karlach nodded.

“-would you be so kind as to remove your humongous form from the entrance of my lovely bard’s tent?” It sounded as if the words were causing him physical pain.

Karlach looked back at you. “What do you think, Soldier?”

“He could probably do better,” you said with a smirk. But it was then that your stomach decided to growl loudly.

“Woof,” Karlach said.

You could practically hear Astarion’s eye roll. “You know, if you let me in, I could remedy that little problem you’re experiencing.”

Karlach slanted her mouth to the side. “He’s probably right, Gale left behind a bunch of-” she waggled her fingers, “-magic-y warm food for you before he, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, and Wyll headed out this morning.”

You cocked your head to the side. “And you didn’t go with them?”

“Are you kidding?” she asked. “And miss you possibly waking up?”

You smiled at her fondly. “That’s very sweet of you.”

“Besides, I don’t trust myself around all the explodey mushrooms down here.”

Astarion cleared his throat loudly.

“Alright, Fangs, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Karlach looked over her shoulder at him before looking back at you once more. “Let me know if you need anything. You know where to find me.” She pointed to her temple, referring to the tadpole connection, and winked. She crawled backwards on her hands and knees, purposely taking her time, before she fully exited the tent.

Astarion took her place instantly, crawling into the space with a plate of steaming scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, bread, and a pair of healing potions. He placed the entire thing on your lap, along with a fork, before settling onto the ground next to you.

You blinked at him. “Breakfast in bed?”

He scoffed. “It isn’t as if you can join us at the breakfast table.”

Smiling softly, you reached out a hand to cup his cheek. “Thank you, my love. This is very kind of you.”

He still scowled, but his face softened when he took your hand from his cheek and kissed your palm. “I expect the same kind of pampering in return if I’m ever to practically die as foolishly as you.”

You laughed before picking up the fork and stabbing some egg. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

~~~~~

And for the first few days, it did feel like pampering: Astarion staying by your side at all times - reading to you, laying with you, changing your bandages… He only ever left to feed himself. He refused your blood, citing that you needed it more than him, even though your bleeding had slowed to a halt by the third day.

It all felt very nice.

Until you felt well enough to get back on your feet.

The others had dutifully been wrapping things up in the Underdark; defeating monsters, freeing deep gnomes from their drow and duergar slavers, rescuing the halfling woman’s husband, and exploring an abandoned wizard’s tower and the temple to Shar, to name a few. Lae’zel had even gifted you a new longsword she’d found, Phalar Aluve - a sword with the ability to sing or shriek - claiming that this weapon would not have allowed you to be wounded as fatally, had you had it during the duergar battle in the decrepit village.

On the day they raided the Zhentarim cache Astarion had mentioned all those days ago, he’d remained dutifully by your side, much to your dismay and protests that you’d be fine without him for a few hours.

“Absolutely not,” he’d said, looking down his nose at you. “As if Halsin or Shadowheart could care for you as properly as I have.”

“You forget,” you’d responded, mildly annoyed, “that they’re the ones who taught you how to care for me.”

“And I’m the one who shall continue to care for you,” he huffed, finishing changing your bandages once again. By this time, you could sit up on your own with mild to no pain at all. You were perfectly capable of changing your own bandages, but Astarion had insisted on continuing to help you.

You supposed it was nice that he wanted to take care of you, given how much he usually hated being responsible for anything, but he was taking the job a bit too seriously.

Luckily, Karlach and Lae’zel had lugged some chests they’d been unable to open at the Zhentarim storeroom back to camp, allowing your beloved rogue to take part in the raid, despite not attending himself, and thus allowing you a moment of peace to roll off your pillows and put on fresh clothes without his help.

You emerged from your tent to look at the spoils from the storeroom, standing up straight and walking on your own. Astarion hadn’t noticed at first, too busy fiddling with the lock of a particularly large chest, but the commotion created by your companions forced him to look in your direction.

“You’re up!” Wyll exclaimed.

“Do you need any help?” Gale snapped the book he was reading closed.

“Give her some space,” Shadowheart said, assessing you with her eyes from a few feet away.

Astarion got up and hurried over to you. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You smiled at him reassuringly. “I promise I feel well enough to be out here. I just wanted some fresh, Underdark air.” You looked over his shoulder at one of the open chests. “Find anything good?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Nothing worth you getting out of bed for.” He looked you up and down and noticed your change of clothes. He sighed. “I could have helped-”

“I’m fine,” you maintained, placing your hands on his shoulders and looking him directly in the eyes.

Halsin approached the two of you and nodded approvingly. “It is good for her to be up and moving around. It’ll stretch the healing muscles and allow her to join the fray again much more quickly than if she stays in bed all day.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “Oh, what do you know?”

“Astarion,” Shadowheart said in warning. “If she says she’s okay, let’s believe her. I’m sure she’ll tell you if something’s wrong this time around, right?” She made pointed eye contact with you.

You held up your hand as if swearing an oath. “I promise.”

He watched you closely, narrowing his eyes and sniffing pompously. “Fine.”

He made no move to leave your side.

You rolled your eyes and walked over to the chest he’d been working on, the thieves’ tools still stuck inside the lock. You patted the top of the chest and said, “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

Astarion watched you carefully before he made his way back to the chest and sunk to his knees.

Not far off, Lae’zel was polishing her greatsword. “Does this mean you are well enough to accompany us to the crèche?”

“Well, I-”

“No,” said every other person at camp at once.

“Chk,” Lae’zel thrust her greatsword into the dirt in front of her. “Heal faster.”

“Trying my best,” you said with a shrug.

Lae’zel rolled her eyes and returned to assessing her greatsword.

“If you’re going to be up and about,” Shadowheart said, “you should probably start packing up your belongings for when we need to enter the Mountain Pass.”

“Augh!” you exclaimed loudly, clutching your side. Astarion was up immediately and you leaned your weight on him, throwing your arms around his neck for support. “So sorry, Shadowheart,” you said in a fake strained tone, “my wound… it prevents me… from hard labor…” You flopped fully into Astarion’s side, closing your eyes and sticking out your tongue as if you’d just perished on the spot.

“Oh good,” Astarion said blandly, “she’s finally dead and I can get on with my life.”

You kicked him.

“Uh huh,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. “Such a shame she’ll never be able to annoy us again.”

“I’ll haunt you forever…” you murmured, wobbling your voice like a ghost.

Shadowheart stepped forward and patted your arm. “I’ll ask for blessings from Lady Shar on behalf of your passing.”

“Thank you…” you murmured again.

Astarion bumped his hip into yours forcefully. “Would you get off of me?”

You pulled back and smiled at him. “See? I’m fine.”

He humphed and returned to unlocking the big chest, only to find it full of more thieves' tools. He sighed heavily and rested his forehead on the edge of the chest. You peered inside and laughed.

“Aw,” you said sympathetically and patted his shoulder. “I’m going to get some food.”

“Let me-”

“No,” you said firmly. “Keep going through your useless chests, my love. I’ll be right over here.” You walked over to the makeshift kitchen area Gale had set up.

Astarion watched you go, and you felt his protective eyes remain on you for the remainder of the night.

~~~~~

It was like that now: Astarion trying to do things for you while you insisted you could do them on your own.

It had bewildered you when he actually helped you pack for your trip back to the surface. He had little to pack of his own, given that he’d more or less lived in your tent throughout your stay in the Underdark. He was relentlessly cautious with you, insisting that Gale cast Fly on you so that you didn’t have to ascend the impossibly long ladder back up into the Goblin camp. And he rarely let you out of his sight, even when safely surrounded by your other companions.

The Mountain Pass was beautiful: bathed in what seemed like permanently golden light that had Astarion blooming in the sun’s glow once again. When your group accidentally stumbled into a hostile party of undead while looking for a place to camp, Astarion had taken your hand and pulled you behind him to shield you with his body.

“I can help!” you’d pleaded, watching your friends sling spells and swords at the skeletons.

“Let us handle this,” Astarion had growled, slashing his daggers through a ghoul that came a little too close to you for comfort. He kept you both to the outskirts of the fight.

Try as you might to help, Astarion held you back, glaring at you for drawing the attention of a ghast when you cast Thunder Wave in its direction. You gave him an apologetic smile before he fatally stabbed the ghast in the chest.

Bloodied and burnt out, you and your companions finally found a decent place to camp, close to the monastery that Lae’zel was sure housed the crèche. She took the lead on making a plan to enter the building and find the cure that had been promised to her all her life. You sat by the fire, listening idly to her plans, knowing full well that no one - except maybe Lae’zel herself - wanted you fighting so soon after your injury. You also knew that, should the cure be legitimate, your friends would happily accompany you back into the crèche where you could have the tadpole removed. You chose not to linger on the thought of your adventure possibly coming to an end so soon.

Unsurprisingly, Astarion sat by your side, mending a pair of pants. His knee was pressed lightly into your upper thigh as he hunched over the fabric to see his thread better.

“You could be doing that in my tent, you know,” you said quietly, watching his fingers nimbly weave the fabric back together with needle and thread. “It’s probably easier to see what you’re doing surrounded by candles from all sides than just this fire. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”

“I’m quite skilled at seeing in darkness, thank you,” he said, not looking over at you.

You exhaled softly and leaned your head on his shoulder, effectively stretching your right side, which housed your wound. He paused momentarily, then kept going.

“I’m okay,” you said softly, barely audible above the roaring fire and the heated discussion of possible battle strategy amongst your companions a few feet away. “I’m not going to get hurt like that again.”

Astarion sighed and halted his work on the pants. “You can’t promise that,” he said, sounding annoyed. He spoke his next words quickly, equal parts irritated and vulnerable: “You have no idea what’s coming and neither do I or any of us and I know you’re capable of protecting yourself but the least I can do right now is make sure you heal properly and don’t get hurt again because if I lost you… I wouldn’t know what to do.” He cleared his throat and looked back down at the fabric in his lap. “Or… whatever.”

You smiled softly and lifted your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. “I adore you.”

He exhaled an amused breath through his nose. “You’re fine, too.”

“Thank you for looking out for me.”

He sighed dramatically. “It’s been dreadful.”

You laughed. “I can’t even begin to imagine the sacrifices you’ve made.”

He brought his hands up to count on his fingers. “I’ve barely slept, I’ve been drinking animal plonk as opposed to your delicious vintage, I’ve hardly killed anything in the last few days, and I haven’t been able to sleep with you for just as long, if not longer.”

You were glad he wasn’t looking right at you, otherwise he’d surely see the flush on your cheeks. “You’ve been sleeping with me nearly every night.”

He nudged your unwounded side with his elbow. “You know what I mean.”

You smirked. “I miss you too,” you said. “And I’m sorry. You don’t need to be giving up all of that for me.”

He leaned his head on top of yours which had found its way back to his shoulder. “Just… heal, would you? You wretched thing.”

You reached your hand to rest on top of his knee. “You must be starving.”

“In more ways than one,” he growled teasingly in your ear.

“I’m serious.”

“As am I. But your blood stays off limits until I’m sure you’re done bleeding.”

You made a frustrated noise. “I haven’t bled in days, you stubborn leech. And you nearly killed me the first time you drank from me, so really, what’s the difference?”

“Yes, but we weren’t us back then. You were just some bard that I crash landed on a horrid beach with.”

“Hmm,” you hummed through pursed lips.

Now Astarion bent to kiss your cheek. “I’m just being extra careful, my sweet.” He moved his mouth to your ear. “And… it’ll be all the more exquisite when I finally taste you again.”

“Ah,” you said. “So you’re edging yourself.”

Astarion sputtered, “That’s not-” Then he smirked. “And what would you know about edging?”

You swallowed thickly. “Enough.”

He chuckled darkly. “Noted.”

It was quieter now, as your companions had dispersed to their own tents to prepare for tomorrow’s journey to the crèche.

Still, Astarion kept his voice down. “I have an important question for you though, my darling.”

“And what would that be?”

“Whose belongings should we peruse first tomorrow while everyone’s gone?”

~~~~~

The only interesting items you’d found while snooping around camp the next day were cheap erotic novels hidden among both Shadowheart’s and Wyll’s possessions.

Everyone, minus Halsin, who was sticking around the edge of camp planning a way through the Shadow Cursed Lands, had made their way to the crèche only a few hours before.

“‘The Salty Mermaid,’” you’d said, waggling your eyebrows at Astarion who was rifling through Wyll’s tent.

“You’ll never believe this, darling.” He turned to show you the same book, its illustrated cover even more worn than the copy you’d found in one of Shadowheart’s bags.

“Shut up,” you said, leaning forward to snatch the book from his hand and holding the copies side by side. Both depicted a shirtless man gazing into the eyes of a beautiful, topless mermaid, her torso turned tastefully away from view. Their mouths were parted slightly in anticipation of a steaming kiss, ocean mist spraying over them and the rock they were perched on in the middle of the ocean. Wyll’s copy looked as though it had been read dozens of times over the span of many years, while Shadowheart’s was newer and gave the impression that it had been opened frequently, given the way the cover refused to rest against the first page.

“This is outrageous,” Astarion said, sitting behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder to look at both books.

You turned your head to look at him. “Didn’t take those two for naughty book lovers?”

“What? Oh, no, everyone in this camp is a deeply sad, depraved creature, that’s not it.”

You snorted. “Okay, so what-”

“It’s that they didn’t think to include us in their little book club!” His hand gestured wildly between the covers. “You and I read all the time!”

“We don’t know they’re reading them together,” you pointed out. “Maybe it’s a coincidence.”

Astarion looked at you skeptically. “Do you really believe that?”

You thought for a moment. Honestly, you weren’t sure. Your nights had been occupied spending time with the man currently wrapped delicately around your midsection. You couldn’t be sure that your companions hadn’t started a book club without you. It brought a small smile to your face, imagining your friends bonding with each other without your help.

Astarion didn’t wait for you to answer. “Let’s at least see what all the fuss is about.” He leaned forward slightly, careful not to jostle your right side and took Wyll’s book from your hand. He flipped open to a random page as you set Shadowheart’s book on your lap. You leaned your head against his, which was still resting on your shoulder, and read along with him. He tilted his head slightly to read slowly and seductively in your ear.

“Fabian ran his calloused fingers along Allura’s scales. Her tail quivered in response.” He held out the “s,” as if hissing, and nipped at your ear.

You flinched in surprise and smacked him gently on the side of the head.

He chuckled and continued. “‘Taste me,’ Allura pleaded. Fabian smashed his lips against hers and their tongues twisted together like two eels in the Sword Sea.”

You barely withheld a laugh. “Trying to seduce me with eels again, I see.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes, rereading the passage in disbelief. “Oh, gods dammit.”

You nuzzled the side of his head with your own. “It’s working better this time,” you admitted.

“Oh?” Astarion pulled back and met you with a wicked grin.

You nodded and watched his mouth as he leaned in to kiss you before pulling back just out of his reach. He opened his eyes and gave you a puzzled expression.

“I didn’t say it worked completely.” You pushed his nose lightly to turn his face away from yours and back to the book in his hands.

“Why you-” He dropped the book unceremoniously and brought both his hands to your cheeks to kiss you firmly. You laughed against his mouth before giving in and opening up for him.

“Astarion,” came Halsin’s voice from a few yards away.

Astarion immediately disconnected the kiss and shot a deadly glare at the bear.

Halsin hadn’t been looking. Instead he’d been focusing down at what he was holding - a half carved piece of wood, something that was beginning to look like a rabbit. When he finally looked up, he halted in his tracks.

“My apologies,” he said, holding his hands up in a showing of peace, “I merely wanted to ask Astarion for a better knife. It appears my proper carving tools are lost somewhere within our wares.”

“Hi Halsin,” you said nonchalantly.

Halsin chuckled. “I didn’t mean to disturb your fun.”

“Fun? What fun? We never have fun.” You nudged Astarion who was still staring daggers at Halsin.

Astarion sighed and settled his chin back on your shoulder. “Relax, darling, I’m sure Halsin knows all about the kind of fun we have together.”

Halsin nodded. “Far be it from me to interrupt a spry couple preparing to partake in one of nature’s greatest gifts.”

“Ugh,” Astarion groaned in disgust and you felt your cheeks go red. “You make it sound awful.”

“It’s only natural-”

“Did you check our Traveler’s Chest for your carving tools?” you desperately tried to change the subject. “It’s possible one of us packed them in there by mistake.”

Halsin snapped his fingers. “Of course! And the Traveler’s Chest would be…”

You pointed in the direction of the chest, which was thankfully on the other side of camp.

Halsin followed your gaze and nodded again. “I shall investigate the chest. Sorry once again.” He started to leave the two of you but turned back around. “Remember to be careful of your wound.” He gestured to your right side and you absently held your hand to the tender area. “Nothing worse than an injury worsened in the throes of passion.”

“Goodbye, Halsin,” Astarion waved him off.

Halsin chuckled once more, then left the area. You and Astarion remained silent for a moment, watching him go.

You looked over at him. “Moment over?”

“So incredibly over,” Astarion lifted his chin from your shoulder and crawled around to sit next to you. “But the druid’s right. You’re still hurt.”

You huffed some hair out of your face. “And you’re still a drama queen.”

Astarion gasped and held a hand to his chest dramatically. “How dare you.”

“I’m fine!” you insisted. “Watch this!”

You stood and leaned your body to the left, stretching your right side and lifting your right arm over your head.

“See?”

Astarion cocked his head to the side. “Impressive. Now stretch the other way.”

You remained upright and ramrod straight. “I don’t want to.”

“Because…?”

“Because…” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, fuck you! You know why.”

“Because you’re still sore-”

“Yes, because I’m still sore.” You sat beside him again and muttered, “killjoy.”

Astarion stood and reached for your hands, holding them in both of his own. “Call me whatever names you like, it won’t change my mind.” He leaned forward and kissed you softly.

You frowned at him. “Asshole.”

Kiss. “Darling.”

“Bat brain.”

Kiss. “Beautiful.”

“Priss.”

Kiss. “My- hey.” He pulled himself back to look down his nose at you. “I’m not a priss, I’m simply surrounded by frumps. And Shadowheart.”

You scoffed and reached up to brush your hand through his curls, mussing them ever so slightly.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, pushing you away and reaching up to fix his hair.

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.

He glared back and rolled his eyes. “Did I not just call you ‘beautiful?’”

“One of your frequent pet names,” you waved him off playfully and went to pick up Shadowheart and Wyll’s discarded books. “It means next to nothing.”

Astarion turned to watch you. “That’s not true.”

You laughed. “You call everyone ‘darling.’”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

If he were still alive, you’d be able to feel his body heat as he stepped closer to you. He looked up towards the sky and moved his hands around as if searching for the correct words.

“‘Darling’ has always been a lovely blanket term of endearment for victims whose names I didn’t bother to learn but needed to entice.”

You stiffened, thrown off by his honest answer. “Oh.” He met your eye. “People like feeling seen, and ‘darling’ does the job quite nicely. Call it a habit now, I suppose.”

You smirked at him. “You know my name, right?”

He smiled sideways in return. “Who are you again?”

“Good answer.”

“Honestly though, darling,” he said, before shaking his head and saying your name instead. “‘Darling’ isn’t anything special to me, that’s true,” he placed his hands firmly on your upper arms, just below your shoulders, “but you are.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying but failing not to shrink under his intense gaze. “Another good answer.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. “Look at me, please.”

You met his eye again and saw his features soften.

“I’ve never called someone ‘beautiful’ and not meant it.”

You raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really. In all the times you had to seduce people, you never called someone you weren’t attracted to ‘beautiful’ just to make things go faster?”

Astarion rubbed absent minded circles into your arms with his thumbs. “In those instances, I preferred referring to them as, ‘striking.’”

You snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

“I could say ‘dead serious,’ but that would be atrocious, so I won’t.”

“‘Striking,’” you repeated, laughing a little at the vagueness of it. “I guess that could mean anything.”

Astarion nodded. “Exactly.” He shifted his hands up to your shoulders. “But you, my sweet, are exquisite.”

You smiled shyly. “I could say ‘aw shucks,’ but then you’d kill me, so I won’t.”

He pushed himself away from you again. “You are infuriating.”

Dropping the books once more, you reached for his wrist as he backed away. “No, no, I’m sorry,” you said as you brought his hand to your mouth to kiss his knuckles. “Tell me more about how beautiful I am.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before his features settled into a seductive grin. He reached forward and pulled you closer by the waist. His voice was low and flirtatious when he said, “I told you on that first night I had my way with you that you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” He shifted his head to nip at your ear, “I meant that.”

A shiver went through your body and you closed your eyes. “Really?”

Astarion scoffed. “I wouldn’t willingly attach myself to just anyone, darling.” He kissed your neck. “For one thing, there’s this gorgeous neck of yours.”

You let out an amused sigh. “Go on…”

“Your eyes,” he said, shifting up to bear his crimson gaze into yours, “they sparkle like anything. I can’t say I’ve ever seen eyes more lovely.” You blinked at him, unsure of what to say. He continued, “Especially when you’re laughing. Preferably at something clever I’ve said.”

That made you laugh. “You’re not always as clever as you think.”

He smiled back at you. “So long as I keep seeing that dazzling smile, I shall make a fool of myself.” After a beat, he clarified, “But only for you.”

If you weren’t careful, you might cry. “You sweet, stupid man.”

“Speaking of that smile; that mouth of yours. I could eat you right up.”

He bent to kiss you deeply but you pulled away to giggle. “And you have!”

“And I have,” he agreed, succeeding in kissing you this time.

Your mouth moved against his slowly, keeping in time with him, and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. As the kiss became more intense, his tongue licking into your mouth, your heart picked up speed, which sent Astarion groaning against your lips.

“That delicious heartbeat,” he said dreamily, breaking the kiss. “It’s as sweet as any song you’ve ever played, my love.”

Your eyes shot open as he brought his face down to your throat again to kiss your pulse point. Based on his body language and the sensual way he continually kissed your neck, you had a feeling he didn’t realize what he’d said. He kept talking.

“Your heartbeat means you're alive,” he placed a kiss on your collarbone. “And that you’re here,” a kiss to your chest. “With me,” a kiss atop your clothed left breast, above your pounding heart. “Not to mention it’s the source of my favorite meal,” he pulled back to look at you with a goofy grin that he quickly morphed into one of seduction. When he saw your bewildered expression, his face fell into one of concern. “What is it?”

You shook your head and blinked rapidly, attempting to keep your composure. “Astarion,” you said, your voice full of adoration, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What’s wrong?” His tone was instantly serious and stern. “Did something happen?” He inspected your right side as if you may have started bleeding again.

Laughter bubbled out of your chest at his sudden shift in demeanor. This man cared for you so deeply it almost hurt. And it was so blatantly obvious to everyone but himself.

“There’s nothing wrong, dummy,” you said, tapping the tip of his nose to bring his attention back to you.

He looked at you questioningly and saw nothing but affection in your eyes. “Then…” he leaned in closer, drawn in by the softness of your features, “what is it?”

You leaned in as well, watching his mouth and subconsciously wetting your lips in preparation for what you were about to say. “I…” you eyes began to close, “lo-”

“Tsk'va!”

You and Astarion froze, your mouths inches apart.

“That wasn’t you, was it?” he muttered.

You narrowed your eyes at him, swatting his cheek lightly and pulling away.

Lae’zel was standing not too far off, covered in blood, staring at the two of you with an intense ire that had you both nearly jumping away from each other. “You feeble wretches are delighting in intercourse whilst the Lich Queen lies to her kin about purification and I nearly lose my life as a result.”

Astarion straightened and looked at his nails, bored. “Oh, is that all?”

You gave him a look before stepping forward to offer comfort. “What happened?”

Lae’zel looked between you and Astarion before furrowing her brows and marching off to her tent. “She may yet purify me!” she called angrily, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than anyone.

The rest of your party stumbled into camp not far behind. They, too, were drenched in blood and looking worse for wear. You approached them immediately, Astarion reluctantly on your heels.

“Is everyone okay?” you quickly looked over everyone and didn’t note any major injuries.

“We’re alright,” Wyll assured and nodded to Shadowheart, “no thanks to Shadowheart.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she groaned. “Let’s see if we survive the night.” She gestured towards Lae’zel who was angrily shedding her armor and shrieking frustratedly with each discarded piece.

You looked back at the others and repeated, “What happened?”

“Our little dream visitor had some rather enlightening news for our githyanki friend,” Gale sighed, wiping his brow.

“Well hang on now,” Karlach said. “Her people, or rather, some random doctor lady, tried to kill her first!”

Wyll nodded solemnly. “Not to mention that fearsome god of hers threatened our lives.”

You inhaled sharply. Even Astarion looked surprised. “What?”

“Why do the gods favor you people?” Astarion crossed his arms. “They never answered me when I called.”

“Now, now, Astarion,” Gale said, “this was not a meeting on the most benevolent of terms.”

Astarion rolled his eyes. “So were you able to kill her or something? Is that why you’re all drenched in what smells like an absurd amount of gith blood?”

“Kill a god?” Wyll laughed lightly. “Be serious, Astarion.”

The vampire shrugged. “I don’t know what you lot are capable of, we just met.”

“‘Just met?!’” Shadowheart scoffed incredulously. “And you think you could have taken on a god? You and what? Those sharp teeth of yours?”

“If you’d like to see what they’re capable of, darling, you need only ask.” He flashed her a malicious grin.

“Astarion,” you caught his eye and shook your head slightly.

“If killing that overgrown creep were an option, I gladly would have taken it,” Karlach punched at her open palm. “I can’t stand bullies.”

Halsin now entered the fray. “Peace,” he said calmly. “Everyone should get cleaned up and inspected for injuries, then we can discuss the events of the créche.”

You turned to look for Lae’zel, but her tent was empty. You assumed she’d gotten a jumpstart on the cleaning process.

“Why is my book in the dirt?!” Shadowheart exclaimed. “Astarion!”

“I think it’s time I go for a hunt,” Astarion kissed you swiftly. “You can handle this, can’t you darling?” Then he took off at a brisk pace down the side of the mountain.

~~~~~

After Lae’zel and the others had cleaned themselves up and bandaged their shallow wounds, you’d all sat around the fire to discuss what had occurred at the crèche and what the dream visitor had told Lae’zel of Vlaakith’s deception towards the purification process.

That night, Kith’rak Voss and his group of rebel githyanki warriors had visited you and your companions, telling you all that the Astral Prism held the key to Vlaakith’s undoing. He’d also promised to explain more and provide help once you reached Baldur’s Gate.

“Why must they always be so cryptic,” Astarion had muttered to you from where you stood behind Lae’zel, allowing her to take the lead on this. “If the Prism is a source of unnamed power, then I think we have a right to know about it.” He pouted and you elbowed him lightly.

As you were preparing to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands the next day, Elminster appeared, bearing a message for Gale from Mystra.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you’d steamed after the old wizard left, “you’re not blowing yourself up, Gale. I won’t let you.”

“She’s right,” Astarion agreed. You turned and gave him a surprised look. He shrugged. “Sacrificing Gale to the Absolute is a waste of a perfectly good cult we could be controlling.” When you rolled your eyes, he amended, “And a waste of a perfectly good Gale, I suppose.”

“I am touched, Astarion,” Gale said before turning his attention back on you. “Let’s save such certainty about my fate for the moment such a decision is upon us. You may feel differently, once we know what we’re truly up against.”

Thus your party kept packing up in preparation to leave for the Shadow Cursed Lands, which Halsin had discovered an entrance to, not far from your camp.

Upon entering, the suffocating nature of the dark hit you instantly, and you felt a shift in your party the more you shuffled into the area.

Astarion held out an arm to stop you from going any further, away from the lit fire you’d found near the entrance. “Can you feel that?”

“You mean the impending sense of doom?” Karlach asked. “Yeah, I feel it.”

Astarion ignored her. “The dark, it’s… hungry. Best watch the shadows.”

Lae’zel scoffed. “How can darkness feel anything, let alone require sustenance?”

“That’s not-” Astarion sighed. “Oh, nevermind. Just… stay close to the light.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Wyll said, grabbing a torch from the lit fire near the entrance.

Shadowheart gazed into the distance, straining her eyes to see into the dark. “This place… there’s power in these shadows, I can sense it.”

Astarion snorted. “Shadowheart feeling one with the shadows. A little on the nose there, darling.”

Shadowheart shot him a deathly glare that had him look over at you for protection. You patted his shoulder in response.

“She’s right, though,” Gale agreed. “I’ve never seen such a concentration of shadow magic. We must forge on, but carefully. It will corrupt any who lack the power to control it.”

“Best get a move on, then,” Halsin siad, grabbing a torch in one hand and your party’s ox cart with the other.

Wyll took the lead with his torch, while the rest of you grabbed your own. You and Astarion brought up the rear as you all made your way through the darkness. He was uncharacteristically quiet as you went.

“Everything okay?” you asked him quietly, making sure the others wouldn’t be able to hear you.

Astarion’s eyes were darting around, on high alert, but he looked over at you when you reached for his free hand with your own. “It feels like we’re being watched,” he said, returning his eyes to scanning your surroundings. “Hunted, even. But there’s nothing out there,” he looked in your direction but was focusing on the darkness behind you, “only more darkness.”

You nodded, and joined him in scanning the surrounding area.

“I much prefer it when I’m the one prowling in the shadows, about to strike.”

“Ooh,” you said, shaking your voice as if telling a scary story, “scaaaary.”

Astarion looked at you with a scowl that you could see was concealing a laugh. “Sorry, did you want something?” He stepped closer to you, bringing his face inches away from yours. “Or just looking for a distraction?” He looked down at your lips.

“I-” you looked at his lips as well and watched as his mouth formed into a grin.

“Look alive, lovebirds,” Karlach turned back to face you two. “Movement up ahead.”

Instinctively, Astarion pulled you to him, shielding your right side with his body from possible attacks.

It was then that your party came across a group of Absolute worshippers, seeking passage across the Shadow Cursed Lands to Moonrise Towers with the help of a drider named Kar’niss, who brandished a magical lantern of some kind. You all played along, brandishing your True Soul statuses in order to gain favor and join the cultists on their journey deeper into the shadows. You even offered to play the Spider's Lyre, which Wyll had found and given to you in the Underdark, in order to summon the drider.

Astarion made it a point of keeping you close, despite the cultists giving you no trouble.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, bumping his hip with your own.

He scoffed. “Oh, so you trust the arachnid is totally sane and won’t turn on us at any given moment?”

“Well-” He made a good point. While Kar’niss had done nothing to prove he was an imminent danger to you, his words were erratic and he’d snapped at you earlier for offering to carry his lantern.

“Wait…” Kar’niss hissed suddenly, holding his lantern aloft in front of what appeared to be a long abandoned house. “Something’s wrong, Majesty.”

“He’s right,” Astarion said quietly, drawing his daggers, “I can sense blood pumping in that building.”

“Should we do something?” Wyll asked.

“Shhh,” Shadowheart hushed. “We don’t know where they are, exactly. Do you want them to spring out at us while they still have the element of surprise?”

“Not particularly,” said Wyll, just as Lae’zel said “Yes,” and drew her greatsword from her back.

“Who’s there?” Kar’niss called. “Show yourself!”

From within the house came a male voice, shouting, “Harpers, attack!”

“Harpers?” Karlach repeated.

The man continued yelling orders. “Kill the cultists… and get that lantern!”

“HERETICS!” Kar’niss shrieked. “VILLAINS IN THE DARK!”

“Soldier,” Karlach turned to you, a frantic look in her eyes, “Those are Harpers!”

Your own eyes widened. Harpers were known for protecting the innocent from evils across the realms. It made sense why they would want to attack cultists of the Absolute.

“Wait!” you shouted and ran forward as Astarion called your name, trying to stop you. “We can help!” You spoke to the man leading this gang of Harpers.

The man looked you up and down as Astarion approached you with his knives still drawn, ready to pounce. “Hurt her, and you die,” he growled, dropping into a low stance.

You exhaled. “Sorry about the guard dog.”

“Careful,” Astarion said lowly, “I bite.” He gnashed his teeth at the group of Harpers surveying you closely.

A woman with long curly hair stepped forward. “Prove we can trust you.”

You nodded and took your lute off your back,strumming a quick tune that had the deep purple magic of Shatter sparking at your fingertips. You turned back towards the cultists, who were now sandwiched between the Harpers and your party. You friends took the hint and drew their own weapons.

“What are they doing?” Kar’niss eclaimed. “We thought they were True Souls! Traitors! Heathens!”

“Darling, are you sure about this?” Astarion asked, watching you carefully, checking for any signs that you weren’t ready to fight.

You looked over at him and winked, casting a powerful Shatter that sent the cultists flying in every direction.

The battle that followed was thankfully not as bad as it could have been, thanks to the help from the Harpers. Astarion had remained by your side the whole time, maneuvering the two of you out of the way whenever an attack landed closeby. He dutifully shielded your right side, stabbing the hobgoblin rather brutally when he lunged at you.

When the battle ended and it was clear that no one had been injured too severely, you approached Kar’niss’ lantern and picked it up. Its chilly glow appeared to protect you all far better from the Shadow Curse than your long since discarded torches.

The male Harper who you’d pleaded to at the start of the battle now approached you. “Incredible magic,” he said, indicating the lantern. “I can feel the light lifting the shadows - even those within me.”

Astarion laughed quietly at his remark, and you kicked the vampire in the shin.

“Find us at the Last Light Inn,” the Harper said, pulling out a map and pointing to a small building by the river.

“Thank you,” you said, marking the location on your own map.

“Be safe,” he said with a nod. “And be brave. We expect no less. Thank you for your help.” With that, he and his other Harpers made their way deeper into the shadows, accompanied by their own torches.

“Could we not have gone with them?” Karlach asked.

“Probably had other Harperly duties to take care of,” Gale reasoned.

“We should probably start heading that way anyway,” you said. “My magic’s depleted and I could use some sleep.”

“Agreed,” Halsin said, stretching his arms above his head and grabbing the ox cart once again. “It will be a relief to rest these weary bones upon a mattress for once.”

“Hmm,” Shadowheart mused, “is grass not cutting it for you anymore?”

“Far from it,” Halsin said. “But even I can appreciate the pleasures of a warm bed every once in a while.”

~~~~~

“Unfortunately, there is only one room available,” Jaheira said flatly when you all entered the inn and approached her at her desk.

Astarion scoffed. “Didn’t you just say outside that there were beds, plural, if we needed rest?”

“It would seem I lied,” she said, looking through a book that you assumed showed current room assignments. “Oops.” She didn’t sound remorseful. “Looks like you’ll have to decide amongst yourselves who gets the room. The rest of you can make camp in the back. There’s plenty of room under Isobel’s light to keep you sheltered from the Curse.”

“Thank you, Jaheira!” Karlach said excitedly.

Jaheira smiled at Karlach’s enthusiasm and held out a goblet of wine to her. “Please,” she said, her tone suddenly very kind, “be welcome.” She handed a goblet to you as well. “Have a drink.”

“Oh my gods,” Karlach muttered, sharing an excited look with you.

“To your very good health,” Jaheira said, raising her own cup towards all of you.

Karlach was practically vibrating with excitement next to you.

“You’ll have to excuse my friend, Karlach,” you said with a smile. “She’s very excited to meet you.”

She giggled, embarrassed. “Tsh. Yeah.” Her face fell just then, as if realizing she wasn’t being formal enough with her hero. She stooped into a low bow. “I mean… It's an honor. M’lady.”

“I will gladly drink to your health as well, Karlach.” Jaheira’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

You raised your goblet to mimic Jaheira’s and went to take a sip, but were instead met with the back of Astarion’s hand. Your mouth crushed against his skin.

“You did not seriously just take a sip from a drink given to you by a stranger,” he said in horrified disbelief.

“I was trying to,” you offered Jaheira an apologetic smile. “I wasn’t expecting to kiss the back of your hand,” you said through clenched teeth.

Astarion took the goblet from you. “Give me that.”

Karlach had been just about to take a sip, but thought better of it and watched Astarion.

He sniffed the contents of the goblet. “Klauthgrass,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose.

“It doesn’t spoil the taste,” Jaheira offered, “if that’s what you’re wondering.”

Astarion rolled his eyes and shoved the goblet back into your hand, training his own hands above his sheathed daggers. “She’s trying to feed you a truth serum.”

“Astarion,” you said calmly, as if soothing a startled animal, “it’s okay.” You set the goblet down and reached for both of his hands, pulling them away from his daggers. “She just wants to protect her people. You can respect that, can’t you, my love?”

“Ah,” Jaheira nodded. “‘My love.’ It is admirable that the cub wants to protect his mate.”

“She’s not-” Astarion sputtered. “We’re just-” He groaned loudly. “I don’t trust you,” he pointed an accusatory finger at the Harper.

“Oh no,” her tone was flat again. “How ever shall I sleep tonight.”

Before Astarion could protest more, you took a sip of the drink.

He gasped. “Darling, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Building trust,” you said, smiling at Jaheira.

Her features echoed your own and she took a sip as well.

“Ah, what the hells,” Karlach said. “Bottoms up!” She downed her own goblet.

“You’re all idiots and I hope you die,” Astarion crossed his arms.

Shadowheart laughed. “Isn’t the whole reason you’re being so dramatic because your mate almost died?”

“Watch yourself, cleric,” his words were icy, but Shadowheart couldn’t contain her snort.

Jaheira took another sip. “Well over a century old and yet it hasn’t lost a hint of its flavor.”

“Let’s have a taste, then,” Wyll pushed his way forward and took the goblet from you.

“I must see for myself if Astarion’s suspicions are warranted,” Lae’zel took Karlach’s goblet, “and if the wine is as good as this woman says.”

“No, no,” Astarion said sarcastically, “let’s all partake in the poison! Shadowheart? Gale? Halsin? What’s stopping you?”

Shadowheart crossed her arms. “I’ve packed my own wine that I don’t plan on sharing with you all, thank you very much.”

Gale, meanwhile, appeared to be reading a book he’d found discarded somewhere in the bar. “Pardon? Is something the matter?”

Astarion rolled his eyes and turned to Halsin who held up his hands in surrender.

“I rarely imbibe, the stuff goes right to my head. I doubt anyone wants to see that.”

“Mmm, yes, save it.” Astarion turned back to you and the others. “So we’re all going to tell the truth now, that’s great. Go ahead, Jaheira, ask away.”

“There’s an air about you,” she said, addressing you instead of the seething vampire to your right. “Something… alien.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Astarion muttered.

“Answer me true and do not lie,” she didn’t flinch when Astarion scoffed, and pressed on. “The parasite is changing you, isn’t it?”

You could feel the effects of the serum willing your mouth to form a truthful answer. You let it. “It’s trying to change me. To win me over. But I’m resisting its temptations.”

Jaheira looked you up and down. “And you’re certain you will continue to resist?”

You nodded. “Yes.” The truth.

“Good,” you saw Jaheira’s shoulders relax. “I will take your word for it. And hold you to it, too.”

You looked over at Astarion, whose arms were still crossed. He scowled at Jaheira who turned to address him this time.

“I have every reason to be cautious.” She exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I’ve traced people like you.”

“Oh, have you.” Astarion rolled his eyes for what was likely the tenth time this evening.

Jaheira tilted her head. “People with parasites in their brains. All the way here from Baldur’s Gate.”

“A long journey, indeed,” Gale said.

Astarion laughed humorlessly. “Good of you to finally join us, Gale.”

Wyll cleared his throat. “And what of the city?”

Jaheira turned to him this time. “The cult of the Absolute is spreading through the Gate. Quietly, quickly, and with unsettling deliberation.”

“Gods…” Wyll breathed. “My father…” Gale patted his arm reassuringly.

“We tracked them to this ancient village,” Jaheira looked down at a map in front of her displaying the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands, and pointed to a village not far off, “only to be faced with a man we killed and buried over a century ago.”

“Who was - is - he?” you asked, furrowing your brow.

Jaheira paused briefly when she saw Karlach yawn. “General Ketheric Thorm. Remember that name. He’s the leader of the Absolutists.”

“How can we help?” you stepped forward, determined.

“Ugh,” Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose. “Really, my sweet, is now the time to be playing hero?”

“The vampire is right,” said Jaheira. “We can save this discussion for the morning.”

“Vampire?” Astarion repeated, laughing lightly. “What do you- I’m not-” he slumped. “What gave it away?”

She smirked. “Nearly everything about you. And I have experience with your kind.”

You and your companions snickered, and Astarion shot you all death glares.

“Yes well… it’s been such a delight chatting with you, Jaheira, but I think now’s the time to discuss the room situation.” Astarion turned around so that his back faced Jaheira, effectively cutting her out of the conversation.

She laughed. “When you decide who gets the room, it’s next to the bar, on the right.” Just as she was about to leave and take care of other matters, she turned back. “Do keep it down if it’s you two who get the room,” she gestured to you and Astarion. “The walls aren’t as thick here as you think they are. Those sitting around the bar will hear you and tell me all about it and I’d… prefer to remain in the dark if it’s all the same to you.”

“Jaheira!” Astarion scoffed. “What do you think of me?”

“Prove me wrong, vampling,” she winked at you and went on her way.

Shadowheart placed her hands on her hips. “Go on, Astarion. Make a case for why the two of you are in desperate need of the room.”

Astarion looked at his nails. “Well, darling, it’s just that we’ve had such little time to ourselves-”

Halsin interrupted. “I’m… going to set up camp outside. I yield my claim to the room and will gladly sleep under the stars. Or… I suppose there are no stars here. Regardless-” he turned on his heel and walked out the front door to reunite with your ox cart full of camp supplies.

“I’ll join him,” said Wyll.

“Right behind you,” Karlach agreed.

“Okay,” Gale looked around at those remaining. “That leaves four of us, considering you two as a unit.” He pointed between you and Astarion, the latter of which looked offended, but you grabbed his hand and squeezed it before he had a chance to argue.

Lae’zel adjusted her greatsword in her arms. “It is tradition among githyanki that those who performed best in battle should have the most comfortable sleeping chambers.”

Gale furrowed his brow. “Is that true? I’ve yet to read anything about that in my extended research on the githyanki people.”

Lae’zel shrugged.

Shadowheart spoke next. “It’s just that I drained so much of my magic healing everyone on the battlefield today. I think I deserve to sleep in comfort to replenish my power since we have no clue what tomorrow brings.” Then she quickly added, “Since we’re in her domain, I’d say it’s as if Lady Shar herself wills it.”

Astarion snorted. “Like hells she does.” He turned to Gale. “And what’s your excuse?”

“The knees,” Gale said, bending his knees for you all to hear an audible crack. “Too many nights on the ground will do no favors for one’s aching joints.”

You could see where this was going. There would be a constant back and forth until a loud argument inevitably broke out in the middle of the inn. You knew it was a bit devious, but you decided to get the jumpstart on ending the argument.

You took Astarion’s hand. “Come on, Astarion,” you said with a sigh, “we can rough it outside for another night.”

He didn’t budge. “You can’t be serious, darling.”

“I am serious- Oh.” you paused in trying to get Astarion to follow you and reached for your right side. “Ow,” you said slowly.

Astarion said your name, his voice laced with worry.

“Oh gods,” you blinked your eyes several times, tears filling your vision.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Astarion brushed hair out of your face and placed his hands on your cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you said shakily. “I suddenly got a sharp pain in my side. I think my wound may have opened again.”

“Oh for gods’ sakes,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes and held out her hand to scan you for injuries with her magic. “You know what, if it’s that important to you, you can have it.” With that, she left after the others.

“Are you alright?” Gale asked.

“I know what would make her feel better,” Astarion said, catching on to your ruse.

“Do not say the room,” Lae’zel glowered at him.

“The room,” Astarion said anyway.

“Chk,” she spat. “Fine. Have your precious alone time. But when they kick you out for pleasuring each other too loudly, I get the room in your stead.”

“Uh… if that’s the case, she can have it after you two.” Gale smiled painfully. “I shall concede as well. If only so I can grab some shut eye without your loud-”

“Ooowww,” you moaned.

“Good gods, man!” Astarion exclaimed, clutching you to his chest as if you were made of glass. “How can you think of sex at a time like this! My precious treasure is wounded!”

“I mean, Lae’zel alluded to it first-” Gale pointed to where Lae’zel had been standing, only to see that she had already left. “Ah. I guess I’ll take my leave as well.”

“Ow! Gods, it hurts!” you wailed. “Get out of here!” Astarion practically yelled at the wizard.

Gale sighed. “Goodnight you two.”

“Goodnight Gale!” you called after him sweetly.

When he turned back to look at you, you were limp in Astarion’s arms, one of your own arms thrown dramatically over your eyes.

“Now look what you’ve done!” It was Astarion’s turn to wail.

“Alright!” Gale turned and held up his hands in frustration. “I’m going!”

When he was finally gone, Astarion pulled you into him for a long, passionate kiss. “You are the perfect woman,” he breathed, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ll have to remind you of that the next time I annoy you,” you laughed and took his hand, leading him to the room.

Jaheira’s voice sounded from the second floor, “I would appreciate it if you did not yell while my Harpers and our guests are trying to sleep.” Despite her stern tone, her expression revealed mild amusement.

“Sorry, Jaheira,” you whispered loud enough for her to hear you from the railing she bent over.

“Good night, cubs.” She waved her hand and left you and Astarion to settle into your room.

~~~~~

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Unfortunately tumblr thought this piece was too long (WHOOPS!) so I had to split it into two parts. The second part can be found here.

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