#maybe they DO get a couple hours of sleep and manage to escape

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirting skills part 8.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

“So... King’s anniversary’s coronation. Are you coming?” Erwin casually dropped the question without a clear addressee, or at least in Levi’s opinion, as he played with a pen while waiting for the early morning meeting to end. He had only slept a very counted number of hours. 

But as the silence reigned, it made him raise his attention, fearing that the question was directed at him. And indeed, it was. Erwin was looking at him. 

“Are you coming?” Erwin insisted. “I don’t think I’ve to remind you how important this event is.” 

Escaping the intense blue eyes, Levi pretended to be interested in anything else inside the room. “I... I’m rather busy. I’ve got a lot of delayed paperwork I should work on over the weekend.” 

The commander looked exhausted as he stared back at him, the invitation slowly dropping onto the table. “I’m sure your boss, me, wouldn’t mind you presenting your work a couple of days later.” 

“You don’t know my boss.” 

Erwin sighed loudly and put away the letter with the invitation. “You know, very influential and powerful people attend these events. It would be great for the Scouts’ economy if you could go and land us some donations.” 

He passed his plus-one invitation to Hange so they could try to get some donations for their titan investigations. Levi fought the urge to roll his eyes as Erwin’s speech was so frequent and repeated, like a mother angry at returning home to find the dishes not cleaned. 

“You know that me and influential filthy pigs don’t get along.” 

“Hey, I’ve been part of the Scouts longer, and he gets his own invitation while I get a plus-one?” The brunette complained. 

“’Cause you’re not Humanity’s strongest?” Levi asked back with a raised eyebrow. “If you want it, I’ll gladly give you that stupid invitation.” 

“Ugh, since that title landed you a date with that nurse of yours, you’ve gotten cocky about it,” Hange pointed out playfully, intending to get on Levi’s last nerve. 

Erwin chuckled as Levi squinted his eyes. “She didn’t go out with me because of it.” 

“Not even you believe that,” unlikely of him, Erwin joined in on the joke, making Levi roll his eyes and frown deeply. 

“You two are just so fucking jealous. When was the last time any of your titles or medals got you a chick?” 

The other two’s silence spoke volumes as they searched for a proper comeback. 

He began to notice the small changes, like when they met again in a hallway. She greeted him first over Erwin and, very important detail, she still called him “captain,” but Levi swore it had an underlying sexy accent to it... or at least that’s what he liked to believe. 

The first rule in the animal world is to land her interest; the second one? Maintain it. That means marking territory. This time subtly, he was not committing the same mistake twice. 

How many hours was Levi sleeping to manage getting his paperwork done, his work as a captain, and trying to pay her as many visits as he could when he was over at the Capital for meetings? None, but at least he made sure a good couple of the MPs, who also walked around the hospital trying to land a nurse girlfriend, would think twice before approaching her. 

“You want scones? It was my day for buying supplies for the staff room,” she commented while moving around, preparing tea. Levi was there doing paperwork he brought with him. Balancing both of their schedules wasn’t particularly easy, and perhaps that’s why their second date was just going to be a little after-work dinner. 

‘Maybe... it’s my moment to casually imply that I don’t have a sweet tooth.’ 

“I don’t like sweet stuff, actually.” 

‘...great, just great.’ 

The confusion was all over her face as she turned around. “Oh...” she softly frowned as she gave it a deeper thought, “...but I gifted you a cake.” 

“Yeah.” 

Lips pressed together as she stared at him. “You could just tell me.” 

‘Yeah well, the time I tried to just tell ya, you got angry at me for a good fucking time, so perhaps it wasn’t the best idea.’ 

How many times had he seen the same picture he had right in front of him, only separated by a couple of steps? Eyes rolling and clicking his tongue, finding it so idiotic that it was even annoying. The only sort of speech he could come up with for his own defense was that “he wasn’t in service,” and usually they were. 

Yes, they. Military police members walking around downtown without the jackets of the uniform on, but instead, the green unicorn swinging as any of their girls walked around with them on their shoulders. 

There she was, the wings of freedom adorning her back. The sleeves weren’t on, just the shoulder pads casually resting on hers, preventing it from falling but not secured enough. ‘It’s like too cold... but too warm for my coat,’ she had mentioned as they exited the building, doing honor to the season where taking the winter coat early in the morning is a good idea but, by afternoon, it hangs on your arm. 

“Here,” he had said, and before he knew it, he was seeing her walking slightly ahead of him with the jackets contrasting against her doveish uniform. 

Marking territory, isn’t it all about that? Especially at the Capital, where all the MPs are looking at them as if they were the most absurd of all couples or perhaps it’s just plain jealousy. 

“You’re going to love them! The food is so good, and the portions are huge,” she commented behind him as she guided him through streets it was rather obvious she knew better than him. As the sky turned coral, with days getting longer, the golden hour only helped highlight how cute he found her like that. 

‘I’ve become what I swore to destroy...’ 

“I’m asking for a small one because if I eat too much, I am gonna fall asleep, and today I’ve got night service,” she commented, looking at the options at the street stand. 

‘Thank god her suggestion wasn’t some stupidly fancy shop at Mitras that would force me to eat plain rice for the rest of the month.’ 

“You work tonight?” he commented back as he decided what to eat. 

“Yes, there are a lot of mothers who reported feeling contractions. I may be working all night,” she replied before pointing, “If you like spicy, those sauces are great.” 

He handed the money to the owner as he received both options and passed hers forward with his left hand. 

“Thank you~” she sang, smiling back at him. 

“You’re welcome,” he muttered as he put away the change back in his wallet. 

‘Havin’ a girlfriend is expensive.’ 

He felt the tug from his arm as she gripped his hand and began to guide him. “Come on, I know a good spot at the park,” she said enthusiastically as she hand-hold dragged him. 

Her hand felt stupidly soft against his, he thought, and delicate as if the absurd feeling of breaking it crossed his mind. 

‘...but 100% worth it.’ 

He let her drag him, mostly because she could hardly even dream of moving him if he refused, but if she wished to get him somewhere, he would just let her have it. 

‘I’ve to give it to them... the Capital is full of classist snob jerks, but the places are fucking nice,’ he thought, recalling how the downtown closer to the Scouts’ facility at  

Wall Rose always smelled like horse dung, the little poor town always looked a bit grey, and there wasn’t much to do there. In contrast, the huge park with well-kept green grass, flowers, kids with expensive uniforms, statues, and decorated benches like the one they were sitting on marked a difference, especially since that place received the early spring sun directly. 

‘There go my taxes.’ 

“MH-” she hummed, passing down a bite from her meal, “You want to taste mine?” 

Pushing her option in his direction for him to take a bite, Levi checked their surroundings and felt the shame of perhaps someone seeing him doing that, but he soon began to suspect that keeping a relationship would require him to start doing a lot of embarrassing stuff. He took one bite and hummed in agreement. 

Swallowing, he said with his usual monotone voice, “Wanna taste mine?” 

As she bent forward to take a bite, Levi forced himself to look away as perhaps there were too many kids around to even think it. 

‘Why when she offers it, it’s cute, and when I do it, I sound like a fucking pervert?’ 

“Mhhm, very good, I like yours. It’s more creamy!” 

‘...stop it, please.’ 

As they ate, he asked, “Do you like kids?” 

She turned around, confused, almost shocked. “Fuck—no. I didn’t mean it like that,” Levi quickly realized how odd that sounded. “I mean, the Midwife path is hard, so you must like kids a lot.” 

‘I mean if you want to reply to the other question, it’s also valid... I like kids very fucking much, let me know when you’re willing to start practicing,’ he thought. 

“Ah!” she exclaimed, understanding he referred to their previous conversation about her prospects of work tonight. “I became an orphan very young; both of my parents were very old when they decided to have me, so they passed away before I finished my studies. And midwifery is a very necessary but judged profession. Most of my coworkers can’t do it because their husbands or fathers think it’s inappropriate for a girl to be around strangers’ houses in the middle of the night.” 

“So... since I’ve nobody to tell me what I can or can’t do, I decided I should do it,” she replied to him. “This is a good time to tell you, I guess, that I’m not dropping my career.” 

Levi shook his head. “I don’t mind it.” 

“That’s why I went to Erwin’s office the other time,” she commented, making Levi frown, recalling the scene. “He was helping me write a project to present to the higher ranks.” 

Her enthusiasm dropped slightly. “But... they didn’t accept it. I felt so bad.” 

“Ah, that was why you were all weeping when we returned from the expedition?” he dropped the detail, but mostly because the idea was still lingering in his head. 

One hand covered her mouth, and then she blushed. “Ah! You saw that?! So embarrassing,” she said, giving a subtle little hit on his arm playfully. “Why didn’t those morons accept it?” 

She shrugged with a soft sigh. “They said something about the government resources not being enough for that proposal.” 

“Tch, they have money for their stupid events but not for this? What did you propose?” 

“Ugh... mh.hmp,” she seemed reluctant to reply and hummed incoherently. “I... don’t want to offend you.” 

Levi frowned deeply but raised a single eyebrow as a silent question. 

“It was about doing campaigns of pre-natal check-ups on the underground pregnant women. Sometimes they have difficult pregnancies, and the lucky ones are dragged up here if they have some connections when the situation is already unsalvageable. The pre-natal non-permanent posts are all around the walls except there... but, well, I told you their resolution,” she scratched the side of her neck nervously as she explained.  

“Probably because we will have to bring security to go, and MPs do not want to participate.” 

“Why would that offend me?” Levi spat out the question as her nervousness appeared ridiculous. 

“Oh well... I thought that perhaps it’s a sensitive topic for you, and I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” 

“I’m not that soft,” Levi replied quietly, but he felt completely different. He knew she was kind-hearted, but it warmed him that, despite the idea not reaching far, at least there were people trying to change something. “You should keep trying until those assholes listen to you.” 

She hummed positively. “You could try to change their minds,” she suggested between chuckles. 

Levi scoffed. “Talk to Erwin; he’s the one who doesn’t allow me to beat their asses.” 

‘Everything is going so well... it’s suspicious.’ 

“Oh! Careful!” she said, catching his attention before she ran her finger through his chin and then sucked it clean. “You’re going to dirty your shirt’s neck.” 

‘... just let me fuck you already, I’m on my knees.’ 

“I was thinking...” she started, turning around to look at him, doll eyes and a cheeky smile. “Maybe we could hang out this upcoming weekend. The celebrations for the king’s coronation will be ongoing all night all around the walls. I thought that maybe we could stroll around too.” 

Levi was already sweating cold; she was taking the initiative, inviting him out... there was only one issue. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice?” 

“Ehm—” 

‘Think of an excuse, you asshole.’ 

“I... I actually have to stay at my place that weekend,” he said, but his last words were quickly followed by a soft pout, puppy eyes, and a subtle “Ow,” from her. Levi wasn’t usually a person to give excuses or unnecessarily explain himself. 

‘Oh shit, it’s not that I don’t want to—it’s just that—’ 

“I had this stupid invitation to the higher-ranks party whatsoever and—” 

‘And I’m kinda escaping my responsibility of attending that shitty party that’s why—oh... oh no,’ he thought. 

Her eyes began to shine, and the smile returned to her features. “Oh my god, you’re going to the official party?” 

‘No... no I wasn’t going—that’s the whole point,’ he thought. 

“I always wanted to go to one of those,” she said with a dreamy stare, her voice subtle and soft, almost begging but not quite. 

‘No, for fuck’s sake, don’t look at me like that.’ 

— 

“These are the preparations for the upcoming week, and I’ve already reviewed your paperwork, and they seem alright,” Erwin reorganized the piles of paper in front of him quickly for the other soldier. 

Slender fingers picked it up, returning to the door’s direction, yet the pace was rather odd, and the fingers tapped the new papers with uneasiness. Erwin didn’t pay it much mind as he returned to filling out the multiple letters he needed to get ready so they would be sent first thing the upcoming morning. Spreading dust over the black ink so it would dry quicker, his movements were controlled yet rushed. 

“So... I was wondering... do you still have that invitation?” 

Those words made the blond freeze up mid-movement. He slowly looked up at Levi, who was standing in the middle of his office. Each second that passed, announced by the clock, changed the Commander’s expression from confused to angry as his thick eyebrows drew together. 

Straightening up but not saying a word, his fingers intertwined. “Tell me, Levi... how many years have you worked with the scouts?” 

“Tch,” Levi switched his weight from one leg to the other, arms crossing on top of his chest. Levi rolled his eyes, annoyed, “What does that even matter? Five.” 

“Ah, yes, I see,” Erwin muttered as if he didn’t already know the answer. “And how many balls, parties, and official events have you been invited to?” 

The Captain had a feeling where this was going and only frowned deeply. “Many... all of them.” 

“Yes, that’s correct,” the blond confirmed slowly as if the information needed to sink in. “You see, I’m asking because it seems like I must be losing my memory... because I can’t recall a single damn time you went to any of those events without me having to coerce you into it.” 

“When I don’t go to those shitty events, it’s about me not supporting the scouts. When I decide to fucking go, it’s also an issue?” 

“No, no, no, no,” Erwin clicked his tongue repeatedly, “You didn’t decide to go... she wants to go, isn’t it?” 

Silence. Reigning silence. 

“Are you making me a jealousy scene?” Levi raised an eyebrow, confused. 

“No, I just can’t believe that as your boss and friend, I’ve begged you all this time to go to those events, and you’re going because a girl—my friend—asked you to. You’re so henpecked it should give you secondhand embarrassment.” 

“Fine! Yes, yes, I’m doing it for her. Happy?” Levi replied, offended. “In a week and a half, we’re leaving for an expedition, and I’ve not even seen a shitty ankle! Fucking excuse me for trying to get laid before I risk my life out there with one of your suicidal plans! Maybe I should get out of here and ask Mike what type of stupid bullshit you did to get Marie’s attention.” 

The battle of stares was over when, reluctantly, Erwin pulled out the invitation from his drawer and handed it over, “Here, thank you for reconsidering it.” 

“You’re welcome... I’m in favor of the plans for the upcoming expedition, by the way,” Levi walked back to the desk to pick up the letter and replied as he took the piece of paper with him. 

“Glad to hear.” 

And the two of them carried on with their responsibilities as if neither of them had ever mentioned anything. 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[monarchberrysblog]

Giving miguel backscratches. Idk saw requests open and i just had to. Theres a spot he just cant reach. Also miguel giving backscratches sounds awesome, dudes got killer nails. Tho maybe his nails would hurt idk

𝔰𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰

Miguel O’Hara x GN! Reader

Summary: Your man loves some good back scratches.

Content Warning ⚠️: none lmao

Word Count: 837 words 😋

Author’s Note: Yes. I would DIE to give this man back stretched and for his talons to tear at my flesh and—

This isn't proofread, and mostly wrote this having the reader no pronouns and gender-neutral terms (if there are any)

To my readers who love their baby girls (men who have emotional trauma and baggage), this is for you 💌

The gentle pitter-patter of the cool rainwater created a soft, soothing melody that danced against the glass window. Its rhythmic beat was reminiscent of the delicate tapping of fingertips on a hollow, wooden desk, providing a sense of calm that embraced anyone in its embrace—a three-wick candle flickers from nearby, creating a cozy ambiance. The cozy smell of clean linen immediately filled the space while in a queen-sized bed, someone squirmed underneath the soft blankets and shoved some throw pillows away from them.

Slowly emerging from the sherpa blankets surrounding you, a big yawn escaped before you rubbed your eyes and looked around your room. It was the same old, same old—the cozy blankets and pillows, with a couple of plushies accompanying your bed.

Sighing in defeat, you tucked yourself back into the blankets and looked at the flickering candle. “When is he coming home…?”

The colorful hues of tangy orange, yellow, and red filled the space immediately.

As you lay in bed, lost in your thoughts, a deep sigh echoes through the silent room, drawing your attention. Slowly raising your head from under the covers, you glimpse Miguel's entrance. His tired yet friendly eyes meet yours, and a faint smile spreads across his lips, revealing a sense of relief upon seeing you awake.

“Hola…” He sighed, slowly making his way to your dresser, and dug around for his sweats that he always left behind. You let out another yawn before nodding your head.

The tangy colors that filled the room vanished as you looked over to see Miguel in his Spiderman suit still and slipped into his sweatpants. “Lyla, turn off the suit.” The unbodied AI responded quickly as his suit was deactivated immediately.

Miguel flopped onto your bed with a suddenness that startled you. The impact of his body caused a few of the plushies and decorative pillows to tumble to the floor while you bounced slightly from the force of his literal collapse onto the bed. “Hey,” You cooed to him before you placed your hand on his back, feeling his taut muscles underneath the pads of your fingers. A simple grunt from your partner was a good indicator that the man had a long day and wanted nothing to do but sleep and relax.

“Can you move your hand upwards?” Miguel grumbles to you, face-planted onto your pillows. Slowly, you moved your hand up and massaged the taut muscle. “No, cariño. Don't massage it. Can you scratch that spot?” You hummed to him in response and lightly scratched at the irritated spot. “How is that?” You whispered to him. He only grumbled in response, causing you to chuckle.

If Miguel wanted to, he could sleep through a tornado if he wanted to. The inconsistent sleep schedules were always a concern; however, the man managed to get seven hours of sleep per day, surprisingly. It was at an unhealthy consistency, but this was the first time in two weeks you had seen him on your bed, collapsed on top of plushies and pillows.

Miguel let out a contented sigh as your fingernails scratched his muscles, leaving an invigorating sensation in their wake. "Yes, thank you, cariño," he murmured, his voice low and sultry. He could feel his body responding to your touch, the muscles twitching beneath your fingertips. "Add a bit more force," he groaned, his voice muffled by the fox plushie he held tightly in his embrace.

You complied with his request, scratching a bit more aggressively, your fingernails kneading his flesh expertly. He let out a deep moan of pleasure, lost in the sensation. "There...move to the left, please," he pleaded, his voice thick with desire. You hummed in response, your fingers working their magic, as you inched to the left.

"A little bit more," he urged, his voice growing more urgent. You complied, your fingers dancing across his skin, sending shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath, completely lost in the moment.

"Alright, that's enough," he breathed out heavily. You instinctively hummed in acknowledgment before gently massaging the reddened and irritated area, which offered him a sense of relief. "How are we doing?" You turned to face Miguel, draping the soft and cozy blanket over him to provide some much-needed warmth.

As his hand moved towards your thigh, you could feel your heart racing with anticipation. You felt a firm grip on the soft muscle of your thigh, his nails digging into your supple and warm flesh. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as you placed your hand on top of his, letting him know that he should be careful. The tips of his talons lightly punctured your thighs, with the talon in his thumb lightly drawing a puncture wound, drawing a trickle of blood. “Easy there…” You cooed to him, rubbing your thumb against his knuckles. The talons on the pads of his thumb retracted like a cat, and immediately felt his calloused touch.

“Everything is great now that I'm here…”

[btnclmrttn]

"Just another morning" (Saitama/Reader)

[absolutely sick. ill. famished for this man. No plot just a drabble]

Saitama' is whiney and clingy when he's sleepy...

~~~~

Media and the lot alike make waking up seem so peaceful sometimes. It can be, especially when accompanied by your partner. Little moments of unspoken sweetness and all the whatnot, except when you have to piss as badly as you do.

By the dark of the room and what the clock beside you says, there's a couple of hours before Saitama's usual alarm goes off. If you make it quick, you can lie in bed longer and fall back asleep. Or take that moment to make something out of a quiet moment like this. Maybe.

Saitama barely has his arm around you in his sleeping position. You don't even know how he manages to end up so crooked sometimes. Practically diagonal on the futon. That arm only works as a guideline for not getting shoved off. As you sit up, you slowly try to unwrap yourself from his loose hold. Some days he's a light sleeper, some days not so much...just gotta be careful.

He catches you the second you think you're in the clear. He's quick to wrap his arm around you again and gently guide you back into his arms.

He croaks out a sound of disagreement to your escape attempt in your ear as he spoons you close to him. Goosebumps spread across your neck as his deep breathing of your scent warms it and a sigh of contentment when the haze of you fills him.

"I just gotta pee real quick," you tell him as you turn your head to look at him. His eyes open a bit. He hums as if he thinks about it before closing his eyes again.

"Uh-uh."

"Please?"

"Mm…"

Saitama pulls you closer and lifts a leg over yours to secure the comfy position.

"It's not healthy to hold it when you gotta go...and I gotta go." 

Your last escape attempt is making it about health. It always gets to him.

A long, dramatic whine sounds from his lips before he huffs and rolls off of you.

"Go pee and come back," he groans sleepily.

Once you scoot away a safe distance, you respond with a bit of a jest, "Such a baby…"

"Hurry up…" he whines again, "I'm cold."

You roll your eyes while chuckling at his dramatics as you enter the restroom.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🦇

Eddie wakes up to The Upside Down destroying itself. He manages to escape, but there's a catch...he is now a bat. You (Dustin's sister) take him in and Eddie desperately tries to find a way to get back to his human self.

Little bits of angst and some fluff. Bat Eddie for a little bit 🦇 protective Eddie.

❤️

One minute Eddie was sure he was dying. In fact, he's pretty sure he was dead for a while because when he woke up, it was to find the pain from being ripped apart by demobats, to be gone.

Eddie would have assumed he was in heaven, at peace. Until he opened his eyes fully and concluded that he was still in The Upside Down and the hellhole was tearing itself apart.

He doesn't know how he managed to escape the destruction, but he did; truth be told, he passed out a couple of times and when he was roused from his stupor by loud voices.

"You can't pick that thing up. It might have rabies!" Now that the voice was familiar, it sounded like Robin with someone he didn't recognise. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a sort of chittering sound.

Shit... now Eddie has had an insane few hours; he woke up after being dead for god knows how long, passed out, and escaped an interdimensional hellscape only to pass out again, so it isn't his fault that he's just now noticed that he's not human.

No, he's a fucking bat. One of those nasty little shits who caused him to bleed out in Dustin's arms. Oh shit, Dustin. He had to see Dustin. Eddie begins to squeak again until you pick him up.

"It isn't one of those creepy demobats, Robin; it's smaller and kinda cute. Those things were freaky and had too many claws and teeth. Look, It's injured, I have gloves on and just want to check that it's okay and yes I'll try to hide it from Dustin, I know my brother though and he'll suss me out within minutes"

Wait a minute... You were Henderson's sister? He remembers Dustin telling him about you once or twice. He knew you were a senior when Dustin was a Freshman, but he'd never met you. He had been curious for ages, though, and now the two of you had finally met.

"Yeah, alright, just keep its teeth away from me, yeah?" Eddie squeaks; oh, Steve was here too? He would smirk if he could; he hadn't known Steve long, what with dying and all, but it was a joy to fluster the previous king of Hawkins.

He wonders if Big Boy has finally talked it out with Wheeler? If he could change back into human form, then he'd ask, but as of yet, Eddie doesn't know how to do that.

He feels like his thoughts are going a mile a minute; he wants to find his Uncle Wayne and let him know that he's okay, but that is impossible to do now. At least he would have shelter with the Hendersons until he turned back into a human.

Whenever he turned back that is.

❤️

Dustin is at eye level with Eddie, gazing at him reproachfully. Eddie squeaks, trying to convey who he is; he even manages a half-hearted fly over to Dustin's Hellfire shirt and chitters away at you and Dustin praying that you both understand. He's still weak, though, and it tires him quickly.

"I couldn't leave him out there, I understand if you don't want him in the house Dusty, I could take him to Steve's or to Robin's and look after him there," you say to your brother gently, he's still not coping well with Eddie's death and you don't want anything to set him back further.

You wish you could have met Eddie, sure you knew of him around school but your paths never crossed that much. Not enough for you to be properly introduced to him... and now it was too late.

It would have been nice to know the person who your brother adored so much.

"S'kay, he's kinda cute. Nothing like those freaky little shits we've had to fight. I think he might just be a normal bat? Everything from The Upside Down is dust now so we don't have to worry"

Eddie closes his eyes, growing sleepy. He's now cocooned in soft blankets in a little box and figures maybe he will get some sleep and figure out how to turn back to human once he's had a good rest. Your fingers gently rub his head and he chitters softly, it's nice.

The next thing Eddie knows he's waking up to sobbing and startles when he realises it's Dustin who's made his way to your room, he's crying on your shoulder and Eddie's heart restricts painfully at the pain in Dustin's voice.

"I miss Eddie, I just want him back. It's not fair that he had to die" Eddie watches you soothe Dustin as best as you can but you're teary too and Eddie finds that this hurts his heart just as much as Dustin hurting.

He barely knows you but he finds himself wondering how you got involved in this mess with The Upside Down? How long exactly has Eddie been dead?

Eyes sweeping over the room, he finds a calendar with the date on it. November 30th 1986.

Eight months. He's been gone just over six months. Fuck. There's a sinking feeling that only grows stronger as he watches Dustin cry.

Dustin in pain makes Eddie's heart ache and he's determined to get back to his human self even more now.

❤️

For a few days, Eddie lays low and naps as much as he can. His injured wing is healing faster than he thought, but no matter how many times he tries to turn back into his human self, it doesn't work.

Then there have been attempts to help you and Dustin realise that he is Eddie. Though realistically there isn't much he can do, he gravitates towards the heavy metal CDs and the D&D figures in Dustin's room, but that doesn't help much.

He nibbles on the fruit and finishes the lot in minutes. Shit, if Uncle Wayne could see him willingly eat fruit... the old man would laugh his ass off. Ideas for his next attempt to reveal himself run through his mind as he watches you read on the bed and squeaks to get your attention.

You grin as you make your way over to him, "You're lucky you're cute. You're so noisy; I don't know how Mom hasn't found you yet, especially with Tews on the prowl" You gently pat his little head, then groan as the doorbell rings.

All is silent for a few seconds then he hears arguing at the front door and pauses eating. Since he's feeling a lot better, he manages to fly out of your room to see what's happening.

Paul Davids is at your door, Eddie remembers him as one of Jason's friends. Which makes Eddie ponder what happened to Carver during the earthquake? Maybe that's something he can find out whenever he turns back into a human.

Judging from the argument you're having with Paul, it's about you turning him down for a date. Eddie watches and feels a growing sense of irritation aimed at the douchebag.

Dustin appears at the doorway and Eddie squeaks to get Dustin's attention. *Douchebag alert, huh dude?* well, that's what he would say if Dustin could understand him and Dustin nodded along like he did.

"Tell me about it, total douchebag" Paul glares at Dustin but you push him out the door before he can say anything. Eddie flies over to you and perches himself on your shoulder.

"What the fuck? Is that a bat?" Paul gawks at him and you scowl, attempting to close the door.

"None of your business, Now leave me the hell alone. I'm not interested so I don't know why you keep showing up" Eddie stills when Paul's eyes flash and he grabs your arm which causes you to yelp.

The anger that's been slowly building explodes; Paul is saying something else, but Eddie can't hear him; one minute, he's flying around the butthead and squeaking furiously, and then the next, he blacks out for a few seconds. When he comes too he's in his own body for the first time in days.

"Did you not hear her, or do I need to knock some sense into you, asshole?" he snaps; Paul goes as white as a sheet and runs away from the door, screeching. "Ghost! Ghost!"

He's human again. Thank fuck, he's never been so happy to be in his own body.

Silence engulfs the hallway, Dustin is staring at him in shock. It's your reaction that startles him. You shriek and nearly brain Eddie with a lamp which he narrowly avoids.

"What the fuck. I swear if this is some beyond-the-grave shit from Vecna I will personally kick his Grinch-looking ass back to hell" Eddie snorts at your description then ducks another attack by the lamp.

"No, shit. It's me. It's Eddie. I was the bat; I woke up in The Upside Down and escaped its destruction, passed out a few times and woke up to find out that I was a fucking bat"

Dustin stirs from his shock and whispers Eddie's name, Eddie nods gently and holds his arms out so Dustin runs into them, his whole body is shaking as he cries into Eddie's shoulder.

"You..you were dead; you died in my arms, Eddie", he sobs, and Eddie fights back his own tears. Instead, he peers over at you and smiles impishly.

"Not going to knock me out with that lamp are you princess?" you slowly put the lamp down while mouthing princess to yourself.

"Never told me your sister was beautiful but deadly, Henderson", he jokes to Dustin, who makes a face; it stops the tears, and he groans.

"Dude, that's my sister. Gross" You meet his gaze and he notices you now look a bit flustered.

"I better call Steve and Hopper and figure out what we are going to do now", Eddie winces, yeah he's figuring he will still have to lay low; there would still be people who thought he was a murderer, even with all the shit that had happened in Hawkins.

"Wait a second... I thought Hopper died last year?" you and Dustin exchange looks and Dustin pats his shoulder.

"Come on buddy, you need to wash up. I'll ask Steve to bring some extra clothes for you. I'll fill you in about Hopper"

Once Eddie is showered he finds clothes that Steve has brought over and dresses as quickly as he can, trying his hardest not to look at the scars that litter his body. He's lucky to be alive so he can deal with some particularly gnarly scarring.

There's so much he has to do, but until his name is cleared, he can't exactly waltz back home to Uncle Wayne, well unless Hopper can clear him. Dustin reassured Eddie that Hop would think of something.

Then another thought occurs to him, shit is the trailer even there anymore? He can't remember much after escaping from The Upside Down, he's so lost in thought that he doesn't hear you come in.

"Hey, you okay Eddie?" you stop mid-sentence and look away from him, suddenly shy. Flushed Eddie pulls on the plain black T-shirt Steve gave him.

"Do they still hurt?" you ask worriedly and he shakes his head. It was more phantom pain than anything else, and the memories. He shudders.

"The memories are the worst part. I can deal with anything else, it's uh...just those moments of sheer terror when I knew I was going to die, the feeling of those things tearing into me" he chokes back a sob and you hurry to him taking his hand and squeezing it tightly.

"It's okay. You're here, you survived. Vecna, everything in The Upside Down is gone. There's nothing to be afraid of now. We're going to get your name cleared, and we can all move on from this shit, not have to worry about constantly being in danger all the time" the two of you settle on the bed; Eddie is still holding your hand; it's a nice feeling, really nice.

"How the hell did you get involved in this shit?" It's something he's been curious about for a while.

"Oh, I've known something was wrong with this town for a while, ever since Will disappeared, everything that happened after that. I always had the suspicion that Dustin was involved and last year confirmed it. I kept waiting for something else to go down, and then Vecna happened... after you died, it was bad, Eddie, really bad. Apocalypse bad"

Shit... Dustin barges into the room and zeros in on you and Eddie holding hands, he rolls his eyes.

"Okay, I'm just so happy you're back, man, that I'm not going to mention you holding hands with my sister...yet. Now come on Hopper and Steve are waiting" Eddie chuckles and stands up, kissing your hand before he goes, mostly just to wind up Dustin.

"Dude...we really need to talk about your tone" he ruffles Dustin's hair and then makes his way to the longue.

Time to face the music. Steve's jaw drops when Eddie walks in, and he swears, "Shit, Eddie dude...if I had any idea you were alive, then I would have never left you down in that shit hole" Eddie shrugs and pats Steve on the shoulder.

"I did die; I just came back to life in some freaky Upside Down twist. Anyway, you miss me, big boy?" He bats his eyes at Steve, who blushes; it was fun to fluster him.

Hopper approaches him and smiles gruffly.

"Okay, kid, let's start on getting you cleared, yeah?"

❤️

For the last few weeks, Eddie has been getting to know you. You were quick-witted, funny and beautiful. He had been trying hard not to fall for you but it was a losing battle. Steve teased him relentlessly whenever Eddie would blush in your presence.

You were a Wiz at D&D having passed on all your knowledge to Dustin and when you told him that you had even seen the legend that was Ozzy Osbourne himself on stage, Eddie nearly fell of his seat with excitement.

"Dude, you hid the perfect woman from me all this time?" He moans to Dustin who gags.

"Nope, if you're going to ask out my sister, then please don't turn into one of those cheesy, lovey-dovey couples", Dustin begs him, and Eddie only winks in acknowledgement.

His name is cleared thanks to Hopper and he can just focus on the fact he was given a second chance at life. Mostly he's been spending his time with you, Dustin, Nance, Steve and Robin.

There was a tearful reunion with Wayne before Eddie was shipped off to one of those government hospitals just to make sure that his bites didn't have lasting effects, you know, besides being able to turn into a bat.

He managed to graduate, though he thinks the school was just happy to get rid of him; Hellfire Club was also back in session and hosted at Steve's place once a week. You had joined and had Eddie wrapped around your finger from the first session; he wasn't ashamed to admit it, either.

Eddie smiles shyly at you when you kiss his cheek in greeting; the two of you begin discussing scenarios for the latest campaign while Dustin argues with Steve about what movie to put on for the weekly movie night.

One major thing was on Eddie's mind, he wanted to ask you out. Maybe after surviving death by fucked up bats, he will have the courage to finally ask you soon? He has a sneaking suspicion that you'll say yes.

Two hours later, he finds that suspicion to be true, and Dustin, half disgusted/half pleased, begs Eddie to please refrain from kissing you where he can see it.

Just for that, Eddie plans to kiss you all the time just to gross the little butthead out.

🤭

❤️🦇

[ditzyredrobin]

Tim Drake (The Spleen-Less Wonder)

My second Bad Things Happen square in as many days because I can’t control myself. 😅

Prompt: Bundled Up in Blankets

-

“Jason, put me down, now!” Tim snaps, trying to wrestle his way out of the blanket burrito he is currently rolled into. He’s currently slung over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and pissed.

Well, beyond pissed.

Pissed doesn’t even begin to encapsulate the raging fury he’s currently feeling, being carried around like an oversized toddler. He kicks hard at Jason’s chest with his slippered feet, trying to gain some leverage to escape.

Jason isn’t even phased at his wriggling and kicking, he just keeps walking up the driveway. “What did I tell you, kid? Fuck around and find out.”

“It’s not that big a deal, seriously. It’s just a cold.”

It was. He hadn’t even broken 101 degrees yet which was barely even a fever and a total win in his book. If he was careful and took his antibiotics (which he had been, there was a timer set in his phone and everything) it would go away in no time.

“Like I said, you fucked around and now you’re going to find out. You could have stayed home but nooo. Tim Drake, the spleen-less fucking wonder, decided tonight was as good a night as any to hit the streets, never mind the sleet and windchill.” Jason mocks deadpan, renewing his grip. “Suck it up, buttercup. You did this to yourself. Deal with it.”

Tim rolls his eyes, “It’s Wayne.”

Jason pushes right through the front door to the manor without knocking. “What is?”

“My name. It’s not Drake, it’s Wayne.”

When he had been adopted, he’d officially become a Wayne. When he had taken over as CEO of Wayne enterprises after Batman had been lost in time, it only renewed that belief. He was a Wayne through and through and if the tabloids caught wind of his being carted around by strange men, he was going to have to send his publicist an apology bouquet again. And maybe a bottle of wine.

As much as Damian may have been opposed to it, he was a Wayne.

“Always a dramatic little shit,” Jason muttered under his breath. “Look, I don’t give a fuck if you’re a Drake or a Wayne or something else entirely. What I do give a fuck about is someone ruining the lead I’ve been working for over a month because he decided not to stay in bed like he was supposed to.”

“And I’m the one being dramatic?”

“Yeah, you are. You know, I’m really glad you’re finally taking the time to self reflect. You should try journaling or some shit when you’re feeling big feelings instead of passing out and nearly braining yourself.”

Really, it hadn’t been that bad. He just needed a minute to sit and then he would have been fine. If Jason hadn’t overreacted, he would not have almost lost his lead.

“I did not. I’m fine. Now can you put me down?”

“You passed right the fuck out, Replacement. That sounds pretty bad to me.” Jason says but doesn’t budge.

“Did not.”

“Did to.”

Tim groans, giving one last weak kick. This was getting him nowhere fast other than wanting his bed. The DayQuil and Red Bull were starting to wear off and the drowsiness was setting in again to bone deep exhaustion. The kind that makes him want to curl up for the next 24 hours and just sleep.

Not an option, unfortunately. He had a board meeting in just over six hours. If he manages to go to bed right now, he should still have time to get in a couple of hours of sleep before he needs to get ready.

“Bruce! Get out here and take care of your belongings.” Jason calls into the otherwise silent manor. It was just after six am meaning Bruce wouldn’t have been in bed for very long.

Tim grimaced at the way Jason’s voice echoed through the halls. If Jason’s complete disregard for the alarm didn’t wake him up, his shouting definitely did. “You really don’t have to do this.” He beds quietly, like that would help matters at all.

One could hope.

“Like hell I don’t.” Jason’s snaps back and opens his mouth like he’s going to yell again when Bruce comes running around the corner.

His eyes are panicked and he’s dressed in a robe, the tie is caddywhampus, and honest to god fuzzy bunny slippers. “Jay, what's wrong?” It takes him a long moment to process what he’s holding. “Is that-?”

“Yours.” Jason finishes, meeting Bruce half way. Without warning, he dumps Tim unceremoniously off his shoulders, earning him an indignant squawk.

If it had been anyone other than Bruce, Tim would have worried, bundled up so tight, he couldn’t stop himself before he hit the ground. But this was Bruce after all.

He caught Tim swiftly before he hit the ground, cradling to his chest. “Tim? What’s going on?”

Jason rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “Next time, take care of your little birds, or I’m not giving them back. We don’t have any more mishaps do we?”

Bruce grimaces, tightening his grip on Tim, pulling him in just a little closer. “What happened? I thought he was supposed to be in bed last night.”

“He’s here too, you know.” Tim uttered but neither Bruce or Jason didn’t acknowledge him.

“Apparently someone failed to tell him that because one minute he was being an annoying little shit and the next he tried to pass the fuck out in the middle of an op. One I’ve been working for months, mind you.” Jason says. “All I know is if he fucks up like that again, it’ll be on your head. Capeesh?”

Bruce nods solemnly, looking pained. “Thank you for bringing him home.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.” Jason says, trying to sound annoyed but there was a fondness in his voice. “Seriously, don’t mention it. Just do better. The kid is an idiot with the self preservation skills of a wet paper bag.”

Bruce sighs, “I’ll make sure he’s taken care of.” And in a small voice adds, “You know you can stay too. You’re welcome home anytime, Jaylad. Alfred misses you, I miss you.”

“You know this isn’t my home, Bruce. I only came back for the kid.” Jason turns back to the door.

���Maybe so but Alfred is making pot roast on Sunday.”

Jason freezes for a moment. “I’ll…think about it.”

Bruce smiles softly, “I look forward to it. Goodnight, son.”

Jason waves him off and leaves, closing the front door behind him, muttering under his breath. Something about Tim and Bruce not being his dad and roast beef sandwiches.

With Jason gone, the entirety of Bruce’s attention is turned to Tim, examining him with big, blue eyes and a kicked-puppy look. “Did you really almost faint? Be honest with me.”

Tim looks away, feeling his cheeks flush. “Maybe? It really wasn’t that bad. I’m just tired.”

Bruce sighs again (because his sons will be the death of him) and starts towards the cave. “You could have gotten seriously injured if Jason wasn’t there.”

“I know.”

He did. There was just so much to do, he didn’t have time to sit down and rest like a civilian. Crime was an ever present entity—if he didn’t help, people were injured and bodies of the innocent filled the morgues. The bodies of good people with lives and hopes and families and dreams.

What use was he if he couldn’t help?

“Do you, Tim? What would’ve happened if you were by yourself? What if your cold gets worse or turns into pneumonia again?”

“I know,” he says again in a small voice.

He really, truly did, but crime stopped for no one.

Bruce’s sighs exasperated, “You’re benched and staying here until you’re better where Alfred and I can monitor you.”

No, no, no, no, no! He can’t—he won’t.

“You can’t, please, I can’t.” Tim begs.

“You can and you will. I will also be handling the board meeting that mysteriously disappeared from my calendar.” Bruce says, giving him a knowing look.

Tim grimaces, “You noticed?”

“I noticed.” Bruce confirms.

He’s Batman. Of course he noticed.

“And there’s no way I can convince you to change your mind?”

Bruce shakes his head, carrying him not back up the stairs to his room, but the clock and the cave. “Not a chance, bud.”

There was no escaping now, not when Bruce’s mind was made up. If they were heading to the cave, where Alfred must have already been waiting, no doubt with an endless supply of warm blankets and IV fluids. He was sure there would be chicken soup later when it was closer to any normal person's time of day.

Tim leans his head back against Bruce—his father’s—shoulder, letting his eyes shut. “I’m sorry.” It’s a small thing but Bruce hears him and hugs him a little closer.

“I know you are. Let’s get you to bed and later we’ll have a long conversation about self care and boundaries, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, already half asleep. He didn’t want to but it was unavoidable. Now he would focus on the gentle sway as he walked, the thrum of his heart in his chest. “Hey dad?”

“Hm? What's up, champ?”

“I love you.”

Bruce chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of his hair. “I love you, too.”

[writingsbymo-mo]

I'm not Alcoholic

Drunk!Rindou x Reader

Contains: fluff, drunken shenanigans, Ran being a worried older brother as he should

Summary: you got off late from work, head to the convenience store near your apartment. What you didn't expect was the surprise you'd have when you get home.

"Sigh...another night of cup noodles. Least they had my favorite tonight."

You were finally on your way home from work, having to take some overtime to finish up a few things. Just another typical day. You were glad you had the next couple days off to rest instead of slaving away with minimal pay. "I need to find a new job," you sighed, clutching your bag from the combini, strolling briskly to your apartment.

As soon as you approached the building, you opened your bag, digging your keys out with a minor struggle but you managed to find them. "Phew, now I don't have to break a window....eeeh, nevermind." You shook your head, arriving at your door when you dropped your bag and keys in a panic. "R-Rindou!"

You scrambled over to him, reaching out to touch his forehead. He was hot to the touch, face flushed crimson when you noticed a subtle sweet smell coming from his breaths. Ah, of course.

Arms suddenly wrapped around you, pulling you against his heater of a body, slurring his speech as he said your name. "Mmmine...."

"Rin!" You squeaked. A rush of warmth blossomed in your cheeks. You tried wriggling your way out of his hold but of course, his firm arms were too strong to move even in his current state. "C-can we go inside please?"

His arms slumped as soft snores left his lips. Somehow, it's like he understood...maybe? Doesn't matter. You stood up quickly, grabbing your keys and unlocked the door. "Rin....Rindou...pst, Rindou," you shook his shoulder, mumbling his name. His eyes cracked open, hiccupping and smiling at you. "Shoo pretty."

You smiled and shook your head, hoisting him up from under his shoulder, "thanks Rin, let's get you inside and something to drink, ok?"

He stumbled and swayed, giving you a hard time keeping your balance, walking him to the couch. You set him down, lifting his legs onto the cushions. "I'll go get you some water. Rin," you turned around and muttered under your breath, "and give Ran a quick text. Bet he's worried sick."

With a glass in hand, you filled it up with cold water. 'I should get him something to eat too,' You thought, 'guess I'll be making two cup noodles.'

While you let the water heat up, you stepped back into the living space and nearly dropped the glass. "R-RINDOU?!"

"Wwhaaat?" He whined. His arms were folded across his chest as he stretched his legs out on the couch in splits....with nothing on, giving you a full view of himself.

"W-why did you take your clothes off?" You placed the glass on the table next to the couch.

"Tooo *hic* waaarm..."

"I'll get the fan," you picked the glass back up, handing it to him, "this will help you in the meantime." You smiled, kissing him atop his head.

Soon, he began to feel better. His snores filled the room as you placed a blanket over him. You didn't have the mental capacity to think about explaining why he's naked under the covers. That's a problem for tomorrow you. With quiet steps, you got into bed and fell asleep.

A few hours into the night, you were woken up to something pressing into your back. Something warm. Something that smelled subtly like sandalwood. "R-Rindou," you croaked through your tired and dry throat. "What are you doing in here?" He grumbled into your ear, nuzzling into your neck as his hot breath sent tingles down your spine. You sighed in defeat. You knew he wouldn't wake up in this state nor could you escape his grasp. All you could do now is try to fall back to sleep. "Goodnight Rin. Please don't scream when you wake up..."

Bright rays of the morning sun illuminated your room. You cracked your eyes open and yawned with the stretch of your limbs. A deep, tired groan entered your ears as Rindou stirred awake. "Fuck...," he lifted his head, gripping his forehead.

"Need something for that hangover?"

He jolted back, eyes wide as his mouth hung open. "H-how did—WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?!!"

"You stripped them off when you got too hot...they're uh...still in the other room..." you blushed and looked away, twiddling your thumbs. "Do you usually do that when you're drunk?"

He sighed, running his hands through his hair. "It's not the first time it's happened...did I—"

"No, you just went to sleep. Don't worry. Actually...I did find you outside my door when I got home. You scared me, Rin! I was worried you got sick or maybe Ran got mad at you over something..." you looked down with a small pout, releasing a heavy sigh, "just glad you're safe."

Rindou placed his hand on the back of your head, pulling you against his bare chest. "Sorry, love," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. You hummed, closing your eyes as you basked in his warmth. "Oh, when you head back...um...you kind of owe Ran for keeping him up almost all night..."

"Fuck.......better get the usual...."

"Sorry, Rin..."

-------------

Ring....ring.....

Ran: —is Rindou there?!

You: Yeah...he uh...fell asleep at my door...and is now on the couch.

Ran: Sigh...that little shit...he owes me for keeping me up this late...

You: Haha, yeah. Knew you'd be worried.

Ran: ...yeah...at least I know he's safe and I don't have to bail him out.

You: Oh! Uhhhh....does Rin usually...strip when he gets drunk?

Ran: I'm starting to believe that's a yes.

You: Ummm, and what's that supposed to mean, Ran?

Ran: I've only seen this happen a couple times when he's shitfaced drunk. Woke me up playing his mixes and found him jamming in commando...

Yiu: pffft ahahha! Oh...my god...he didn’t!

Ran: Oh, he fucking did. Threw a pillow in his face and told him to go the fuck to sleep!

You tried to hold in your laughter but to no avail, you cackled into the phone.

You: That's fucking hilarious! But anyway, I'll tell him you owe him when he wakes up. See ya.

Ran: Mmhmm.

Click

"Sorry Rin but it looks like you'll be making a stop before you head home tomorrow..."

[delayed-affection]

if u feel comfortable writing about it could you maybe write and imagine about joe burrow and him being their for his girlfriend whiles she’s struggling with a depressive episode thank u in advance 🤍

Help

Oneshots Navigation

Joe Burrow x reader

Warnings: depression

Word count: 1.1k

It comes in waves, one day you’re fine and happy but the next you want nothing more than to just be gone.

You’ve done everything that they’ve said to do; you’ve gone to therapy, taken the pills they’ve prescribed you, tried to get back into the things you’ve loved before but nothing has worked.

You’ve managed to live life without breaking down in front of everyone, in front of Joe.

He knows about your struggles with your mental health but there’s only so much that he can do for something he can’t control and knows so little about.

He’s seen the days where you struggle to get up and do the simple things in life and it kills him to see you like that. He just doesn’t know what to do when it gets like that.

And today was one of those days, you managed to pull yourself out of bed and to work but it was the hardest thing to do.

All you wanted to do was go home and rot away, hoping that tomorrow will be better, that you won’t have to bully and force yourself out of bed.

But it wasn’t, it was worse.

You woke up today feeling like absolute shit. A wave of fatigue and exhaustion hit upon waking, washing over you like a cold and heavy blanket as your eyes open.

The mere thought of getting out of bed is almost too much to bare right now, every muscle in your body feeling like a lead weight.

There's no motivation here, just a deep-rooted desire to fall back asleep and go back to the peace and comfort of dreams.

You wrap yourself up in the blanket lying in bed, the room is pitch black with the only light coming from your phone that lights up every once in a while with a notification.

You haven’t gotten up since you opened your eyes, however they weren’t open for long. You force yourself back to sleep, wanting nothing more than to be in an unconscious state.

You wake up a couple hours later and feel way worse.

You felt completely lethargic and mentally wiped, and you couldn't think of anything that could stir them out of this state.

Feeling like a zombie, just going through the motions and barely functioning at a most basic level. You felt like you were just existing, not truly living. Everything seemed pointless, and you couldn't find the energy or desire to do anything at all.

You begrudgingly sit up, trying to fight off the feeling that's been weighing you down. You don't have the energy to do much else but try to cope with your feelings.

You sit there on your bed, feeling overwhelmed by the sense of hopelessness that has consumed you. It feels like nothing will change and you’re just waiting around for things to magically get better.

You find yourself spiraling deeper and deeper into a dark hole of despair and there seems to be no way out.

You lie back down with a huff, feeling completely defeated. Wishing it would just go away and you could finally be happy.

But it doesn't look like that's going to happen any time soon. Closing your eyes and you try to block out the world, hoping that maybe things will be different.

You know deep down that nothing will change. You are stuck in this state and have no idea how to escape it. You just feel hopeless and resigned to your fate.

You can hear the front door open and close, Joe is home. Laying there silently, you listen to the sound of his footsteps coming closer to the room.

You feel anxious and nervous, unsure of how you should act when he walks in. Should you just keep pretending like you’re asleep, but you also know that you need to face him.

You’re afraid that he'll be angry or disappointed with your lack of motivation to do anything.

The bedroom door opens, and Joe walks in cautiously. He can tell by your breath and movement that you’re awake, but he decides to act as if he doesn't know that and gently sits down next to you on the bed.

He doesn't say anything at first, just gives you a comforting pat on the shoulder letting you know that he's here. He knows that it can be difficult to communicate when you’re in this state, but he wants to let you know that he cares and supports you.

You feel your heart melt a bit at his gesture and you can't help but lean into him slightly, seeking comfort from his closeness. Feeling slightly embarrassed and guilty for not having the energy to do much lately.

You can’t help but feel like you’re letting him down by not being more productive or active. You’re glad he's understanding and patient, but you feel like you’re being a burden on him and that you should try harder.

Hearing you start to cry, he immediately holds you close. He lets you cry without trying to stop the tears or make you feel bad about them. He just holds you gently, letting you let it all out and offering a strong and secure presence.

He reassures you that it's okay to cry, and he just wants you to feel better. He's there for you and he's not going anywhere, no matter how bad things get.

He wants you to know that you’re not alone, and he's there to support and love you no matter what.

He continues to hold you until the crying subsides, feeling you calming down as he does so. Once your tears have stopped, he pulls you close again and strokes your hair lovingly.

He wants to make you feel better, and he knows that sometimes you just need physical reassurance and comfort to feel more at ease. He just wants to be there for you and make you feel like everything will be okay.

You begin to relax in his arms and feel a bit better.

"Everything's going to be okay, baby, I'm here for you." He whispers placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You sigh as you lean into him, letting your mind go blank.

He continues to whisper to you, "I love you and I'll always be by your side, no matter what."

He keeps whispering these words of encouragement and love, and you can feel your spirits starting to lift.

It feels good to have his comforting presence so close to you, and you feel supported and reassured by his kindness. He continues to hold you close as you breathes out a deep breath and relax.

You feel safe and supported by his love, and your stress and anxiety slowly begins to fade away.

You start to feel better, way better than you did before, and you’re grateful that you has someone so understanding and supportive like him.

[justwonder113]

Head over heels - Lee Know pt2

First part here (Can be read as a standalone)

Warning: Cursing(I can't help it). mentions of drinking. The reader is overthinking in the beginning but the end is fluffy. Minho is a menace and I love him for it. I can't think of anything else please tell me if I missed anything. Reader is gender neutral.

Word count - 1.4k

Masterlist

A/N- Hey lovelies, I'm back with the continuation of the previous Minho drabble. I wasn't thinking of writing the second part but I got inspired so here we are. I really hope you'll like it. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. I'd love to hear what you guys think. Thank you for all the love and support you give me, it really means so much to me. Please take care of yourselves, love you all so much!! <3 <3

The one and only sun, the sourse of light and basically all life on earth was sometimes a huge dick. Like what do you mean you're brutally waking someone up from their sweet slumber on 8 am on sunday? That's just evil. Do you know what they were up to all night? Maybe they need their much needed rest. Talk about inconsiderate.

Grumbling curses at the bright rays of sunshine which felt like you were being poked in your eyeballs you turned to your side, trying to escape them. You furrowed your face into your pillow hoping to fall back asleep. But you couldn't. Because you realized couple of things. First of all your so called pillow was clearly breathing. Second of all the familiar comforting smell clearly belonged to your best friend. Third, how the fuck was Minho's chest so firm yet so soft?

Hold on, hold on. Why were you sharing a bed with Minho? Normally whenever he slept over he opted for using the guest bedroom or the couch if he was too lazy to get up. It was rare of you to share a bed. Wait did you do something?

You tried to recall the events of the last night. You were at the club. Minho got a bit drunk, you went to get him some water. Some deuchbag tried to hit on you but Minho scared him off. You got to your apartment. You asked him to help with detangling your Chains and you two made out for hours, you talked in between and some time into talking about some random stuff Minho fell asleep.

You made out wit your best friend! What were you thinking?! You're clearly into him, you have been for a while, but what about him? Okay you knew Minho wouldn't just kiss you out of nowhere but still! You have been extra flirty lately but he hasn't given you a hint or a clue that he romantically likes you like that. Maybe it was just a spur of moment thing. Let's say he wanted to test things out. Maybe he wanted to test if he liked you like that? Oh god, what if he regreted it? What if you ruined everything. Oh God, what if this messed up your friendship. You couldn't live without him in your life. Maybe it was an overdramtic announcement but he was too dear for you. He was the reason you believed in suolmated be it platonic or romantic. God you shouldn't have indulged in kissing him when you knew he was still a bit tipsy. But he was so close tho and his lips looked so pretty and kissable... Oh what the hell?

The hands tightening around you stopped your train of thoughts. Great you woke him up now. You were mad at the damn sun for waking you up and now you were the one to wake him up? Great job.

Minho's groggy yet soft morning voice startled you. "I can physically feel you overthinking. It's too early, go to sleep."

"But Minho." You cringed at yourself at how whiny your voice sounded. Minho opened his eyes to give you an unimpressed look. He wrapped his hands more tightly and brought you even closer. You both loved and hated how at peace you felt whenever you were around him. Being between his harm made every cell in your body relax, except your heart, which felt like it would burst any second. When did you even manage to fall so hard for him?

"Do you like me?" The suddenness of his question startled you. You couldn't with him sometimes.

Unimpressed with the lack of answer Minho opened his eyes and full on glared at you. Normally you would laugh it off or try to make him well not upset but now all you could think about was how could a human look so breathtaking first thing in the morning. With messy hair and slightly dark circles from the few hours of sleep he got. He was like a walking renaissance painting what the hell? Minho was about to let go of you when you started talking. Well you had to say something.

"It pisses me off how pretty you look first thing in the morning."

You blinked at you once, then twice then rolled his eyes. His hand came up to your cheek and you thought that maybe it was one of those rare moments when he was sweet and affectionate, but no, you were proven wrong when he slightly pulled on the skin of your cheek.

"First of all, I'm always pretty. Second of all I could say the same to you." He let go of your skin and now slightly grazed your soft skin. "Third of all you're getting distracted sweetheart." This smooth fucker. You could feel your face start to heat up.

"You have never called me sweetheart."

"Hm, do you not like it?" Minho mused and looked at you with eyes full of mischief. The fucker knew he was getting you all flustered up.

"I didn't say I didn't like it."

"You're cute." Why was he so keen on teasing you today?

"Shut up!" - You couldn't help but groan. You didn't fully appreciate how flustered he made you feel.

The smirk on his face grew even wider if that was possible."Make me!"

If he thought that you wouldn't retaliate! You looked at him with challenging eyes. "I just might!"

"So you do like me." He said so casually while playing with strand of your hair you were taken aback for a second. God you hated how your heart basically did a backflip at his soft voice.

"You're infurating." You wanted to hide your face now, you knew this little asshole was having the time of his life watching you get this flustered.

"And you're not denying." Why would you? He knew you liked him.

"One fact doesn't exclude the other smartass!"

"So you're admitting it." How was he so casual about it?

"Maybe I am. What are you going to do about it?" You challenged him. Proud of yourself when you saw that your comment got to him and suprised him for a second.

"Then, I am going to kiss you senseless like you're pretty butt deserves to. And I'm going to take you some place fancy for our first date." To make his point across he even took your hand and softly kissed it.

"Aww you think my butt is pretty." This was the only response you could muster up. At this point you were amazed how was your heart still working.

"Well of course I think my partner's butt is pretty." Did he just say what you thought he did?

"Partner?" You couldn't hide your surprise as well as your hopefulness.

"Bold of you to assume You have any way out of this relationship." What a romantic. Why was he so him?

You decided to tease him a little, after all that's all he did all morning. "What if I'm tired of you?"

"You can always sit the fuck down." Again, so romantic.

"What if there's no chair?" Based on the smirk on Minho's face you knew he was going to make it dirty. "Okay never mind, I got it. Okay, what if we lose chemistry?"

"I have seen breaking bad, we will cook something up."

"Okay you're clearly quoting that one tiktok I sent you."

Minho glared at you for a second. "Doesn't mean I'm not being genuine."

"What if your cats hate me?" Minho rolled his eyes at you.

"They love you and you know it."

"Yeah, I'm way too adorable for them to not love me. Okay what if..." Minho didn't let you finish.

"No what if's. I love you and it's clear you feel the same. I knew what I was doing when I kissed you last night and I know what I'm doing right now. You're mine and I'm going to treat you like a royalty until you let me. Don't overthink your pretty mind now. Let's just cuddle for a while and then I will take you out for the fanciest breakfast ever." Again not really romantic but the butterflies in your stomach still decided to have a French revolution in your tummy.

"I still hate you"

"Whatever you say sunshine." He leaned in and sealed his lips with yours.

[shuuuuush]

I NEED YOU [Sharky]

Summary: 24-hour challenge without Y/N. Simple right? Not for Sharky.

Warnings: none

A/N: This was actually going to be the can I kiss you yet fic, but then I had the other idea, and now here we are 😭 if u want, consider this the alternative for that fic.

*** ***

*** ***

"I hate this already."

Sharky groaned as he was supposed to make a video for his channel. The beta squad members give him a 24 hour challenge to complete and if he completes it, they give him £200.

But what he didn't know was that they all agreed to give him the same challenge. 24 hours without you.

When they told him about the challenge, the look on his face said it all. The boys knew he would lose this challenge and they would gain £200. Their evil smirks convinced Sharky that he would probably lose the money. But he would try anyway.

"Seriously? You do realise this is physically impossible. I contact her on a daily basis." Sharky admitted, after they told him about the challenge.

"Exactly! Meaning easy money for us. Or extra money for you if you do manage to complete it. But we all know you won't." Niko laughed as he had a clear evil plan ahead.

Determined to prove them wrong as he can't lose at his own video, he agreed to the challenge. AJ started explaining the rules to him.

"Ok Sharks, this challenge means no Y/N at ALL for 24 hours. No texts, calls, visiting her, hugs, kisses, all that crap etc. You have to survive 24 hours, got it?" As Aj explained it Sharky was already on his phone trying to text you one last time before it started but then Chunkz snatched his phone out of his hand.

"Nope, no phones, Sharky." Chunkz did his famous laugh, and he could tell they were all having fun with this.

"Wait, so does Y/N know about this challenge?" Sharky asked, and when he saw all their faces, he knew the answer before they replied, causing an eye roll from the Somali.

"Nope." The four all laughed, finding it funny how they'll be able to see their friend in misery for 24 hours.

Sharky sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "You're gonna make me lose my relationship, you know?"

.

.

.

The beta squad boys had taken turns to stay with Sharky and watch him to make sure he doesn't contact you in any way. Or try and escape to visit you.

The first hour, Sharky was fine. "Living life" according to his own words, technically this wasn't the normal amount of time he survives without seeing you.

Walking around the house, munching, playing football with Kenny (even if Kenny wasn't the best at football) as he was the first one over watching him. Doing anything to get his mind off the challenge and make it like a normal day.

Forwarding to the 3rd hour, Niko now was in charge over Sharky and decided to make things a bit more fun compared to the normal routine.

He messed around with Sharky, pretending to call your number to make plans to hang out with everyone but Sharky. Almost grabbing the phone from Niko, he suddenly remembered the challenge and retracted his hand. Laughing in victory Niko teased Sharky as he told him,

"Ohh almost lost the challenge there Sharks!"

"Shut up."

Slightly slouching over in defeat and stomping annoyed back to his room. Maybe a couple of winks will help pass the time, he thought. Not on Niko's watch. He made sure that sleeping was no option to pass time as it was sort of "breaking the rules."

Even though Aj wasn't meant to be helping over to watch Sharky at this hour, since Niko was still in charge, he helped Niko prank Sharky to see if he would lose the challenge. They put a voice recording of your voice from a previous video in one of the rooms.

Aj snickered as he press play on the recorder, hearing your voice throughout the rooms, Sharky stood up. It sounded like you were talking to someone and he almost left his room as quick as possible until he caught Niko and Aj laughing behind the camera.

Rolling his eyes, he said, "I see what you guys were trying to do, you were trying to trick me into going to find her huh? Yeah no."

Seeing as though their plan didn't work, they decided to show Sharky what it was anyway to cure his curiosity. And they went into one of the rooms, and it had the voice recorder with a picture of you on it. That picture was framed and taken from Sharkys desk.

As he looked at your picture, Sharky scratched the back of his neck. Yeah, this challenge is starting to get harder.

Chunkz was watching him now. It had been 5 hours into the challenge currently, and for Sharky, 5 hours is painstakingly long.

They were both in the sitting room, on separate couches though. Taking the camera and focusing it on himself, he spoke quietly so as not to let Chunkz hear him.

"Ok so far, I'll be honest I've done well but I can't take it anymore. 5 hours is too long."

He looked back to make sure Chunkz wasn't listening, he had headphones on and was scrolling through his phone. Sharky was slightly thankful Chunkz really couldn't care less about the challenge as much as Niko and Aj.

"I'm gonna try and sneak out now, hopefully I'll be able to do this." He winked at the camera and slowly got up giving it back to the camera man and walking towards Chunkz as an idea formed in his head.

"Hey man, I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick." Sharky told him, trying to not to look too suspicious.

"Yeah ok, just don't spend the whole video in there." Chunkz replied, waving him off but not taking his eyes off his screen.

Now was Sharkys chance, obviously he couldn't take the camera with him and his phone was still with Chunkz. So he was on his own now.

Going to the bathroom and closing the door, he climbed up the window of the bathroom and out the side of the house. Good thing he brought his car keys because he was about to his car that was parked on the side of the road.

Getting into his car, he thought about the challenge. Losing 200 pounds because he couldn't be away from you for 24 hours? Yeah, he was about to fail that challenge anyway. He needed you right now.

Starting the car and heading down to your house, he was desperate to be in your arms. 5 damn hours he had to suffer without you, he couldn't take it any longer.

Knocking at your door, he took a deep breath. Hopefully, you were at home right now. Hearing the jingling of keys unlocking the door, his worries ceased when he saw your face as you opened the door. He ran up to embrace you in a hug, and he sighed in relief and contentment.

You were confused but hugged him back, slowly closing the door while you were there.

"Sharky, why didn't you answer any of my texts? I was gonna head to your house to see if you wanted to get something to eat together." You asked, still hugging him as you layed your head on his shoulder.

"I was doing a stupid challenge the boys made me do. But it's over now, I'm here with you." He mumbled, closing his eyes as he felt comfortable in your embrace.

Letting go, but still holding his hands, you asked, "What was the challenge about?"

"24 hours without you."

You almost laughed. Of course, they would make Sharky do a challenge like this. You knew they thought that he would fail it, too.

"Well, did you make it?"

"I made it only 5 hours in." Hearing your laughter, he pouted, "Hey! 5 hours is long damn time Y/N."

"And what was the forfeit?" You asked, shaking your head with a small chuckle. You were glad he loved you so much that he didn't want to be away from you for so long.

"£200." He said, annoyed, looking away as he knew that the account money would definitely be gone. "Now, can I kiss you? It's been too long."

"5 hours is not that long but su-"

He didn't care about your answer because he was going to kiss you regardless, and the second he did, you melted into it.

Suddenly, you both heard a knock on the door, and you pulled away, heading towards the door to open it. And you were met with four familiar faces.

"Sharky!" Niko yelled, "You lost the challenge you schmuck, can't even stay away for a day, huh?"

You laughed at Nikos' reaction, and Sharky just placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. The rest of the boys teased Sharky for failing so quickly, but of course, they had to say hello to you and tell you about what a loser Sharky is and how he failed that challenge so badly. (They were joking, but still)

"Alright, alright, that's enough. Get on out of here." Sharky rushed towards the door, got the £200 out of his pocket, and threw it at the lot. They laughed in victory as he just shut the door.

You also laughed and went up to hold him in your arms again.

"You know we could have used that £200 pound for something Sharky, I wouldn't have minded."

He pulled out of your embrace and held your face with both of his hands, looking directly into your eyes,

"I don't need £200. I need you."

Taglist: @b4tasquad, @p3drii , @n1kodl, @elora-k, @slutforpablogavi, @enhacolor

[profoundbondfanfic]

Hi there!

I have been looking in vain for fics with Non-verbal Dean or Castiel. I've read a couple but haven't been able to find anymore and the tagging system only seems to give me junk results not actually related to that.

Thank in advance for your help!

Hey! Here are a few fics we could think of:

All Cats Are Gray After Dark by squirrelofcelestialintent (Explicit, 19k words)

1992, NYC. Dean is a Gulf War veteran working in the grimiest ER in the city, and he’s holding his life together. Kind of? Maybe. But he’s got secrets. No one at work knows that he’s not physically mute due to a war injury, but rather selectively mute from way back in the day, because that is almost impossible to explain. Nobody but Sam knows he’s a rare, male Omega, and the discovery of that secret was why he got kicked out of the army. And nobody, absolutely nobody, knows that he occasionally sneaks out to have anonymous sex with men. Until he meets Castiel freaking Novack - anonymous hook up turned new boss - who in less than a month manages to find out all three.

Casicorn by everandanon (Explicit, 56k words)

When Detective Dean Winchester suddenly finds himself with a new roommate, a mysterious man who doesn’t speak but seems to somehow be connected to the department’s recent vigilante problem, he has no idea what he’s in for. The guy doesn’t know how to work a TV, brush his teeth, or even take a shower, and he stares at Dean all the goddamn time. Not to mention he insists on sleeping in Dean’s bed. While Dean is in it! Weird, right? Except the longer Cas sticks around, the less Dean starts to mind; the more he kind of dreads Cas leaving for good, actually, even though nobody really knows who Cas is or where he came from. And then, one night, Dean happens to witness their vigilante firsthand and realizes he knows Cas even less than he thought . . . (Loosely inspired by The Little Mermaid)

Finding You In Every Sign by casblackfeathers (Explicit, 99k words)

Castiel was content with the constant flow of his life. He had his brother Gabriel, had his coffee shop and the weekly book club meetings as well as a small but solid group of friends. If there was one thing his hateful family had taught him, it was how fast things could go wrong if he let too many variables shape his life. So when he met Dean, a gradual regular at his shop, Castiel knew he was trouble, because Dean was like a comet, beautiful but beyond reach. Ever since his father died, there wasn’t a single constant in Dean’s life. Moving on, never stopping, never getting attached to one thing for too long had made him a drifter for the past seven years. Being the only hearing person in his family hadn’t been easy with a father like John Winchester, so as soon as Dean saw an escape, he took it. Settling down to open his flower shop was anything but easy, especially when he met the elusive deaf owner of the coffee shop next door. The more he discovered about Cas, the louder the voice in the back of his head whispered that maybe Castiel was the person finally worth staying for. And maybe, just maybe, Dean was willing to listen now.

Hear You Me by through_shadows_falling (Explicit, 84k words)

Castiel is a college graduate stuck in two dead-end, part-time jobs. Oh, and he’s Deaf…which to his oldest brother Michael makes him something to constantly fret over. It’s not Castiel’s fault that he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, right? Not like it’s Michael’s business anyways. Enter Dean Winchester. A chance encounter with the man has the power to change Castiel’s life - and in the end, maybe, just maybe, it will help him finally understand and accept who he is and what he’s meant to do.

i saw the light by LoversAntiquities (Mature, 14k words)

“Sam, you gotta hear about this ghost story I found the other day,” Susanne says over the speakerphone, just as loud as she has been for the last half hour. For the most part, Castiel ignores her—or tries—and concentrates on the beads dangling from between his fingers, centerpiece pressed to his forehead. Praying doesn’t work, but some mornings, when the coffee doesn’t get him going and the walls feel more like a prison than a home, he sits at the library table and whispers empty words into the crucifix, like Jesus can ease the festering ache in his chest. He can’t—no one else can either.

late july by thanks_tacos (Explicit, 26k words)

'I would like to take in your most abused one,' Castiel says, looking at the rows of doors in the yellow corridor. 'Give him a good home.' After his accident, Castiel needs someone to help him around the small brick house he lives in and the bookstore he owns. So, he adopts Dean; an omega who barely survived being dumped in a ditch and left for dead. Dean doesn't talk, but that's fine; they learn to live together in the quaint, rainy city surrounded by a green forest. Castiel just wants to give Dean a peaceful life he deserves, and maybe also - become his mate?

Looking for a Sign by emwebb17 (Mature, 70k words)

Dean can't figure out why the hot guy on the train is ignoring him…that is until he realizes that the man is profoundly deaf. After an unpleasant misunderstanding, the two become friends. It isn't long before Dean wants more, but Castiel sticks steadfastly to his rule about not dating hearing people. When Dean starts to date other people to try to get over him, Castiel starts to wonder if maybe Dean is the exception to the rule.

No Words by Ltleflrt (Explicit, 112k words)

On the run from his very powerful family, Castiel does his best to get lost. Because if he doesn’t know where he is, his brothers won’t be able to find him very easily either. He ends up in Silverton, a small mountain town nestled deep within the Rocky Mountains where he meets Dean Winchester, a very beautiful and very grumpy omega.

sunflower by unicornpoe (Teen and up, 4k)

Castiel comes home on a Sunday.

Still Waters Run Deep by thisisapaige (Explicit, 41k words)

In the darkest depths of the ocean, sealed into the ma'lak box with Chuck trapped behind the Mark, Castiel loses the battle against God's rage. When Sam and Dean find Castiel on a dark patch of highway— the Mark missing and his grace weak— he cannot speak. It rains. It rains and it rains and it rains. It is a Great Flood. In order to stop God, save the world, and resolve the issues simmering between them for years, Castiel and Dean need to communicate. Perhaps they should build an ark instead.

The Hanged Man by orphan_account (Mature, 87k words)

After Park Ranger Cas Novak saves a mysterious stranger named Dean from an attempted murder in the woods, he finds himself drawn into the man's secretive life. Someone tried to kill Dean, but he's not telling who. In fact, he's barely speaking at all. If he's going to have any hope of helping Dean, Cas will have to convince the man to trust him — all while trying not to fall in love with him along the way.

We also have a mute tag with more fics like these. Also if you search for 'selectively mute dean' or 'mute dean' (or cas if you prefer cas) on ao3 you might get lucky as well.

[aziraphales-library]

hello!! i love you all so much (platonic) and appreciate the work you do. do you have any recs where one/both of the ineffable husbands/wives is getting out of a relationship and goes to the other for comfort and maybe realizes they've been in love with them the whole time? thanks so much <333333

Here are some break-up friends-to-lovers fics for you...

I'm All Yours by FeralTuxedo (E)

Anthony J. Crowley knew he looked like a walking mid-life crisis. The tight jeans, half-up bun and sunglasses positively screamed ‘I left my wife for the babysitter and bought a vintage car just to feel alive again.’ In an adaptation of his life, he’d be played by Hugh Grant. He looked like a divorcee desperate for action, and it didn’t help that he was currently standing outside a nightclub surrounded by drunk twenty-year-olds. But Crowley wasn’t here for a good time tonight. He was on a rescue mission. Crowley has been rescuing his friend Aziraphale over and over again for a decade. Hopelessly in love, ready to jump at a moment’s notice when he was needed. When Aziraphale finally breaks up with his partner, Crowley is there to help him through what’s looking to be one hell of a mid-life crisis. Things could finally change. If he manages not to mess it up again. A human AU with a whole forest’s worth of pining squeezed into a single day.

…And They Were Roommates by Mimsynims (E)

“You know… I just remembered that Richard and I were going away for a few days next month.” Something devious came over him. “Richard paid for it, but the booking is in my name.” Crowley quickly caught on to what he was getting at. “Ooh, I see. That’s convenient.” He grinned. “For us." When Aziraphale's boyfriend Richard (Dick) breaks up with him, he and his roommate Crowley hijacks an intended couples' vacation and uses it for themselves. Lines that had started to blur even before their trip gets even more blurry - which perhaps isn't the best thing when both are hiding a crush on the other (and communication isn't their strong suit).

Ezra at the Wedding by tenandi (E)

Ezra's ex is moving on but he's determined to stop the wedding. With his handsome neighbor masquerading as his new love interest, will he win back his true love and rewrite the happy ending he deserves? - Crowley was leaning against the doorframe, obviously hungover and running on about two hours of sleep. A ripped t-shirt hung off one shoulder over a pair of boxers with devil ducks printed all over them. To top it all off, he was wearing black velvet slippers embroidered with his monogram. In any other instance, Ezra would have laughed but he was too busy being wrapped up in his anguish. “What do you want, Crowley?” Ezra fumed. “I am having a moment here!”

You are HoMe (Half of Me) by angelsnuffbox (T)

Aziraphale had gotten dumped, plain and simple. But that small detail wasn’t nearly as important as all the things that happened after he’d gotten dumped - such as coming to a few realisations about his best friend of sixteen years.

Hooped Earrings by OfEden (E)

After 29 years Azira comes out. While her family and ex boyfriend don't support her, her life long best friend is there by her side every step of the way.

Crawling Back To You by madrabbitwrites (NR)

College-age Aziraphale pushed his closest friend away and moved out of town with his married Literature professor in a panicked attempt at escaping his family’s rampant homophobia. Years later, devastated by a dreadful break-up, he’s returned to his small hometown to live with his brother and attempt to heal his broken heart (and broken life, if he were being honest with himself). What he didn’t count on was his old friend Crawley- now calling himself Crowley and looking dashing as ever- to have returned as well. Crawley’s wounds from their last argument are deep and Aziraphale may never be able to regain what they once had, but he’d certainly like to try. The two of them need to have an actual conversation, but that’s not really how these plots go, is it?

- Mod D

[alexawynters]

Scarlet Whispers pt. 1

Gif not mine

A/N: Title subject to change, not sure how I feel about it. This is my first published fic here so pls be gentle. Also I'm terrible at summaries.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader

Trigger warnings (let me know if I forgot to tag anything): Mentions of past child abuse, ongoing adult child abuse, stalking, horror, dubcon, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, gaslighting, angst, smut. There will be bits of fluff tho.

Rating: M. Minors DNI

Summary: For the most part swap Vision with mutant Y/N whose powers were enhanced by the Mind stone embedded in her forehead courtesy of Hydra. Takes place post Multiverse of Madness, only instead of trying to kill America Chavez, Wanda taught the teen how to control her powers and in doing so, learned how said powers worked herself, becoming able to copy them.

With her newfound powers, Wanda searches the multiverse for her lost spouse and children. She discovers a universe where Y/N exists but she and their sons do not. This aligns with her plans, allowing her to avoid dealing with another version of herself. Using her powers, Wanda intends to make Y/N love her in an attempt to rebuild their family. Whether she does so willingly, or the Scarlet Witch makes her, both are acceptable to Wanda.

Masterlist here

Chapter One

A silent scream escapes your lips as you gasp for breath. Another nightmare. Damn, that's the third one this week, and it's only Monday. Weary, you wipe the sweat from your forehead and head to the bathroom to splash water on your face. It's finals week, and you have an exam in a few hours. A quick glance at the clock shows that it's already 3AM and you groan. Maybe you can manage to get a couple more hours of sleep before the rest of the night slips away.

Lately, for some unknown reason, your troubled mind has been subjecting you to night terrors that make you question your entire reality. These nightmares have been unusually realistic, and you frequently experience more than one per night. At times, you are haunted by so many consecutive nightmares, causing your friends to wonder if you are getting any sleep at all.

The sound of your footsteps padding across the floor is the only thing you hear as you walk from your bedroom to the adjoining bathroom to wash your face. You don't bother turning on the lights since you have a nightlight in the bathroom. You've never been a fan of the pitch black darkness in the bathroom, but the bright overhead lights give you a migraine at the best of times. As a result, your bathroom is mostly covered in shadows, usually just enough for you to do what you need to do and then go back to bed. However, tonight is different. As you accidentally glance up at your reflection, your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you see a pair of glowing red eyes staring back at you from behind, causing your heart to race.

As you spin around, you raise a fist to defend yourself against the intruder, only to realize that you are alone in your bathroom. You turn back to your mirror and find yourself alone once again. It must have been remnants of the nightmare. In a hurry, you turn on the faucet's cold water tap, run your hands under it, and splash your face. Although hesitant to fully look away from your reflection for fear of the 'intruder' returning, you still want to wipe the sweat from your clammy face.

It was just a bad dream. However realistic, it wasn’t actually real. Shaking it off, you quickly close the bathroom door and head back to bed, intent on getting as much of your remaining night’s sleep as you can before your exam tomorrow. Or rather, later today. 

A few hours later, you find yourself in your usual study spot at the university. The library is your safe haven, and it's definitely your favorite place to be. Even if you didn't have to study (which you absolutely did - you were so far behind if you had any hope of graduating with honors, you needed to spend every available moment here), you would often be found here simply reading a book. Your friends and professors are well aware of your voracious appetite for reading, so if anyone ever wonders where to find you, the answer is likely to be here.

Your first exam was in an hour, and you were cramming every last bit of knowledge you could before taking said exam. You needed the highest grade possible. Your future, your escape, depended on it. It could be argued that this desperation was why you initially didn't notice the sound of children's voices reverberating through the library. While the library was usually empty, it was not uncommon for adult students to bring their children with them to study when their own childcare plans fell through. It was inconvenient, but you tried to be considerate and simply tuning it out. Another day, another distraction, and you didn't have time for it.

Eventually, the disruptive sound became impossible to ignore, and despite your desire to not be rude, you needed to focus and get your work done. With more force than strictly necessary, you slammed your book shut, preparing to find a quieter place to study. However, just as you were about to stand up, two twin boys, around ten years old, came running down the library hall, filled with laughter and giggles, heading straight towards you. Your eyes widened as you realized they had no intention of changing their course - they were definitely going to collide with you.

Opening your arms to catch them, and hopefully prevent all of you from careening onto the ground, you found yourself asking “Hey what’s all this? Where’s your mother, you guys?”

The boys looked at you, confused. “What are you talking about, Momma?”

Your eyes turned the size of saucers. “Momma”? That was new. Someone must be playing a trick on you. How ~delightful~ you thought, annoyed. As if you weren’t already stressed out enough, someone had roped in a couple of kids to play a game of fuck around and find out. Well, whomever had put them up to this, when you found them, they were about to find out. 

The library's main door swung open, revealing the presence of an incredibly beautiful woman you estimated to be in her mid thirties, with fiery red hair and the most mesmerizing emerald eyes you had ever seen. Her appearance headed straight towards you left you speechless, immediately taking all the wind out of your sails. Oh well, you were always more bark than bite, you supposed. If you thought her looks were stunning, though, they paled in comparison to the melodic sound of her angelic voice.

“Billy, Tommy, come here boys!”

"Mommy!" the twins shouted at the same time before running into her arms. Part of you wanted to scold them for clearly breaking the library's code of conduct, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it when all three of them just looked so happy. You couldn't explain why your heart clenched at the sight of them either, but for some reason, now that the initial surprise had faded, you were soothed by their presence.

You observe their interaction, not wanting to interrupt their intimate moment. Your heart ached at how comfortable the family appeared to be with one another. Once the stunning woman appears reassured about her children’s well-being, she instructs them to go play and shooing them away before redirecting her attention towards you. You feel a pleasant tightening in your chest as her warm gaze focuses on you.

Even though the children have clearly disrupted your valuable study time, you find yourself dismissing it as if it were insignificant. "Oh, it's no problem, I understand how children can be." You don't, you have never had a sibling nor a child of your own, and you have never babysat a day in your life. 

"It's just that they missed you so much, darling," she whispered, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

“Huh?”

She takes a step closer, invading your personal space, and begins adjusting your shirt. One of the buttons had come undone at some point, and she seems determined to fix it. Part of you wants to point out that she, a complete stranger, should not be in your personal space, let alone touching your clothing. And what did she mean by saying that her children "missed" you? You didn't know them. You didn't even know her. Warning bells start ringing in your head, as you are pretty sure this is the plot of some horror movie. You should leave. This is not a level of crazy you can deal with right now. 

"The boys missed you, Detka. It's been a long time since you've been home, so we decided to come see you!" The woman finally finishes fixing your shirt and looks up at you. Though there is warmth in her expression, there's also a hint of madness, her once green eyes tinged with red.

“I-ah… that’s great, and all but I uhh.. I have an exam coming up, I need to get going.”

“Going?”

The warmth in the woman's voice is gone, replaced by a raspy iciness that sends a chill down your spine.

"My love, the only place you need to go is home, with us, your family."

You turn to face the woman and immediately regret it. Standing before you is no longer the woman in mom jeans and a plaid shirt. Instead, she appears to be dressed in some expensive sorceress cosplay that you estimate would cost thousands of dollars to create or purchase. When... when could she have possibly changed? Just a second ago she was dressed like a normal person, right?

Slowly, you take in the sight of her. Not only has her outfit changed, but her overall appearance as well. Her cheeks hollowed, the sockets of her eyes are sunken as if she hasn't slept in weeks, and her eyes are a glowing crimson. The same shade from your nightmares.

This isn’t real. This is another nightmare. One you need to wake up from. 

“Oh absolutely fucking not.” You whisper, as you turn and run.

Unbeknownst to you, the Scarlet Witch allows you to flee. With a flick of her wrist, she could have immobilized you, could have compelled you to accompany her, whether willingly or not, but she chooses not to. The pursuit begins, and she intends to enjoy herself. You will succumb to her, and do so quite prettily. She starts walking down the hallway after you, taking her time. After all, now that she has found you, she has all the time in the world to play with you.

Grace has never been a quality that you possess. In fact, you remember a song your mother made up when you were a child specifically to remind you just how graceless you were. Not that it helps you now, as your brain never finds the appropriate time to recall useless facts. Cursing your ineptitude, you rush out of the library as fast as your legs can carry you.

 Moments later, you’re throwing yourself into every door along the hall, however, none of them open. What is wrong with this place? Why is everything locked? You don't remember the university being so fond of locking everything, but then again, you only go to about the same four places. Variety might be the spice of life, but your stomach (anxiety) prefers a milder taste.

As you run, you hear the clicking of the woman's heels, hot on your trail. Or is she really hot on your trail? It sounds as if... you tilt your head, listening. She's walking? You think to yourself that surely you can outrun a woman walking in heels. Surely. (Your asthma would suggest otherwise). Abandoning yet another locked door, you rush further down the hallway. Maybe you don't need to outrun her or find a room to hide in; after all, barricading yourself would only delay the inevitable. Your goal is to reach civilization, to find other people. Speaking of which, where is everyone? Usually, this wing of the university is bustling with activity at this hour.

Exhausted, you pause to catch your breath, hands resting on your knees, hoping that you have managed to buy yourself some time. Unfortunately, your hopes are dashed as her low, raspy voice fills the corridors, humming what sounds like a lullaby in an unfamiliar language. The eerie sound sends chills down your spine, making it painfully clear that luck is not on your side. Where could she be? She is not next to you, nor ahead, yet her voice continues to echo, sounding almost...

Almost the same moment you realize the source of the danger, a hand reaches through the mirror from behind you and grabs your shirt with an unnatural strength. You scream loudly, hoping to alert someone in the building for help, but no one comes to your aid. "What the- LET GO OF ME!" You forcefully pull your shirt from her grip, tearing it in the process, and hastily retreat down the hallway.

To your horror, you see the woman's arm brace against the wall and begin to pull herself out through the mirror. You scramble to your feet, desperate to flee once again, with only one thought repeating in your mind: "What the fuck?!" None of this could be real.

"Y/N," a low voice said in a saccharine tone. "Where do you think you're going? Don't you know that I will always find you? I have crossed thousands of universes to find you, and now that I have you, I will never let you go." In any other context, this would probably be incredibly sweet. Currently however, it only fuels your fear, sending you into a blind panic. You have to escape whatever the hell this is.

Navigating through corridor after corridor you eventually  spot one of your classmates at the end, entering the exact exam room you needed to be in that morning. It's a desperate situation, but maybe they can buy you some time while you make your escape through a window or something. It’s not a brave thought, you’re not proud of it, but survival instincts have already kicked in. 

You quickly catch up to your classmate, despite initially being so much farther behind, managing to slide into the room just after them. The proctor promptly closes the door behind you. You're breathing heavily, and in your haste, you embarrassingly just slid into the backside of your classmate, with your shirt heavily torn. You must look ridiculous, but unsurprisingly no one questions you about it, your classmate simply looking miffed and whispering an insult as they move out of your personal space. The situation would be comical if you hadn't just been running for your life.

It’s fine. This is fine. Everything’s fine. 

Steadying your breathing, you make your way to the back of the classroom, nearest the window and stare apprehensively at the door. You’re expecting any second now for that woman to come barging in, but she doesn’t, and now here you are ready for your exam. Wow you must really be losing it. Stress induced hallucinations, that has to be it.

Although you were hesitant to simply continue with your day, the world doesn't wait for anyone. Whether you actively participated or not, your proctor would still grade your exam, which your future still depended on. You made an effort to push the hallucination from your mind and concentrate on the information you had retained for the exam, aiming to achieve the highest score possible.

Once you have completed the exam, you hand it in and cautiously enter the hallway. The grades wouldn't be posted until the end of the term, but you were confident enough in your answers to believe that you had earned at least an A. Whether it was an A+ or A- was still uncertain, but you were hoping for the former. So focused were you on your test that you had almost forgotten about the incident earlier that morning. For a moment, you wondered if you should visit the university's nurse. Although she was not an actual doctor, it was a free service, and perhaps she could recommend something. On the other hand, at worst, she would suggest getting more sleep, and at best, she would advise you to see a doctor, which you couldn't afford. Not to mention the argument your parents would start regarding the doctor’s bill (as if they were above opening your mail). Perhaps not. 

You had no more exams for the day, so it was time to go home. There were chores to do for your parents, and then you had to study for tomorrow's exam. If you were lucky, you could finish everything early and get a few extra hours of sleep, hopefully avoiding another hallucination like today. Rubbing the exhaustion from your face, you head towards the bus stop. It was early enough that the bus should arrive within the next fifteen minutes, and you would be home in about an hour. Everything was going according to plan. Tomorrow was going to be a great day, you just had a feeling.

Once on the bus, your exhaustion started to overwhelm you, your headphones doing little to drown out the ambient noise. Before long, you were fast asleep. Even if you were awake, you probably wouldn't have noticed the viridian eyes in the reflection of the bus window watching over you. Unlike before, these eyes didn't appear to be of malicious intent. If anything, they seemed to observe you with care and empathy. If the volume of your headphones spontaneously happened to outweigh that of the alarm you had set for yourself to awaken you for your stop, that was just a coincidence.

A/N 2: sorry but the writers of the M.o.M. butchered her character just to have her shoehorned into a villain role so Strange would have an adversary already established in the MCU as a powerful magic user - I'm still salty about it. However Ms. Olsen's performance was phenomenal. Anyway lmk if this is absolutely trash or if you wanna maybe read more? I have a couple of chapters pre-written but not the entire thing.

Many thanks to my editors @flowers-shouldnt-die, and Brooke for helping me through this and providing valuable feedback! Especially @flowers-shouldnt-die for her assistance with translations in helping me learn both Hungarian and Russian for this. Wouldn't have made it this far in the story without you :3

[specialagentlokitty]

Aizawa x reader - a heroes spirit

I have a request for Aizawa if that's alright. Maybe where R is a vigilante that's been running around the city taking down criminal organization's or something like that and Aizawa is sent after them to find out why they are doing this so maybe it ends in a fight and he has to use his quirk to stop R? So when the R tells why they are doing this is maybe revenge for a close family member that died? - Anon💜

Running down the street, you took a sharp turn, sliding into the crowd of people, weaving in and out of them all as the hero that was chasing you tried to grab you.

You knew Hawks was above you relaying your every move to them as well, so you had to get somewhere he wasn’t going to be able to follow, and you had to be quick about it.

Eyes searching around, saw the mall nearby and ran straight towards there, if you could get in there, you could loose them all in some shops, so that’s what you did.

You stepped aside as you ran, and you pulled your hood up a little tighter, diving into an even larger crowd, then following a group into a shop.

You hung about in there for a while, looking around, and you found a different jacket from yours, so you walked over to the cashier, handing over cash for the jacket.

“Keep the change, is there a changing room?”

“Uh… no, I’m sorry.”

You nodded your head, and you looked out the entrance where a few heroes were looking for you in all the shops.

“Is there a restroom I could use?”

“Well, I’m not supposed to but I guess since you’ve already brought the jacket, yeah. Here.”

The boy led you to the back, and opened the door for you, letting you slip inside where you hung above for a minute, changing your jacket.

You finally came out, having left your old jacket hidden behind a couple of boxes in there, and you bowed your head to the boy before leaving.

Slipping back out into the public you slowly walked around this time, only stopped when Best Jeanist approached.

“Excuse me, have you see this person running around?”

He showed you his phone, showing you a photo they’d managed to get off you a few days prior, but they couldn’t see your face.

“No sir, I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright, thank you.”

He asked another group who looked at the photo.

“Hey it’s the vigilante that’s all over the news. I don’t get why you can’t leave them be, they’re hunting villains, saving people. Basically a hero.” The man said.

You huffed quietly as you carried on walking.

This was the problem with people, while the majority view you as some sort of heroes because you were wiping out villains, a small percentage of the population saw you as a villain.

You didn’t want to be called either.

You never actually killed the villains you went after, you simply rendered them unconscious, dragging them to the nearest hero or police station.

When you took down a whole organisation you would call the heroes and police to your location when you were done.

You made your way back home, aiming to get some sleep before you went out again, but you only managed to get a couple of hours.

Getting showered, you changed into a different jacket, putting on a disposable face mask and made your way out of your apartment.

You kept to alleyways, lingering in the know that’s where a villain would most likely show up, but you also kept an ear out for any trouble.

“Tracker, put your hands up.”

You paused, slowly turning around to face the hero who was stood at the end of the alley.

You didn’t recognise him, but you did recognise his voice from the radio and when you tried to bring out your claws you noticed that you couldn’t, and you frowned heavily.

“I have no business with heroes.”

“You should’ve thought about that before you became a vigilante.”

His scarf surged forward, and you barely dodged it, but you noticed you could bring out your claws, so his quirk must be to take yours, but there was a limit.

Digging your claws into the building, you hauled yourself up onto the fire escape, running up the stairs.

“Stop!”

He chased after you, his scarf grabbing your leg and tripping you, rolling over you swiped at it, cutting your leg free.

Standing up you turned to look at him and he charged, aiming to hit you and you deflected him with your arm.

You ducked under him, turning around to keep an eye on him.

You had to do something about him if you wanted to get free, but he wasn’t a villain.

He seemed to notice your hesitation to hit him back, and you blocked his attack you kept your hands away from him.

Your claws shimmered, as if they were coated in something, and they didn’t know if the poison you were using to temporarily paralyse the villains was on a weapon or if it was your quirk.

Now he realised it was your quirk, so he had to wait for the right time to erase it.

You grabbed his arm as he lunged for you again, and you threw him behind you, not realising how close you were to the edge.

When you saw him tumbling to the edge you dived forward, grabbing his arm, bracing your hand against the ledge, digging your claws into the side.

With your help, he got back up, and while he was climbing up he erased your quirk, trapping you with his scarf.

You did try for a minute to get out, but even with your quirk you were stuck, your hands were unable to reach, and you sighed heavily, sitting down on the ground.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“You didn’t know who you were fighting but you still rushed to help me?”

You gave a small shrug.

“I know you’re not a villain, a villain wouldn’t have told me to put my hands up. I’ve seen you a few times with the other heroes.”

He studied you, crouching down, resting his arms on his knees.

“Eraser head. I’ve been sent to ask you some questions and bring you down to the station.”

“Ah, Aizawa. I’ve seen you on the news recently talking about your students.”

“You keep up to date with everything, don’t you?”

You nodded your head.

“What’s your quirk?”

You refused to answer this one.

“What’s your name?”

Again, this was a question that you chose to ignore.

“Why’re you taking down villains?”

“Because they took my brother from me.”

Aizawa wasn’t expecting you to answer this question to either, so he was slightly shocked when you did without hesitation.

“Who?”

“Some low level thug, got him from behind and used him as a hostage, hurt him really badly and the heroes tried to help him but he never made it.”

Aizawa slowly nodded his head.

“Is that why you don’t attack heroes?”

“You’re doing the same thing I am, you just have more rules to go about when doing it.”

“You’re a criminal too you know.”

“Am I? I never attacked first, you know that. Which means technically I was acting in self defence, I’ve not actually broken any laws, you know that.”

“You attacked me.”

“I never actually laid a hand on you, therefore I never attacked you.”

Aizawa sighed heavily because he knew you were right, they’d take you down the the station and the most that’ll happen is a reprimand for you using your quirk without the correct forms.

They’d seen the footage of your fights, and you always waited to be attacked first before attacking, instead you settled for taunting the villains into attacking you.

You’d spent a lot of time researching all of this, even if they did decide to take you to court, the trail wouldn’t be a long one, maybe a small amount of time in prison at most.

You sighed softly.

“I’m not a bad person eraser head, I’ve never once hurt somebody who didn’t deserve it. I’ve never raised my hands to a hero or civilian.”

Aizawa placed his hands on his knees, pushing himself up so he could stand.

“You’re using your quirk when you shouldn’t be, if you wanted to take down villains you should’ve become a hero.”

“I tried.”

He looked down at you.

“I tried to be a hero once, before my brother died, but I wasn’t good enough. I have my claws and my poison, that’s it. I didn’t have the speed or the strength or the flashy quirk. I’m just an ordinary person who has a small amount of power. That’s it.”

“That doesn’t mean you have a right to become a vigilante.”

“What would you do if your only family was killed?”

“Leave it to the heroes.”

You scoffed a little bit, looking away from him.

“Yeah, it’s easy to say that until it happens. Then you’re left wondering maybe if you were stronger or faster could you have protected them.”

“You were there?”

You slowly nodded your head.

“I watched my brother die in the arms of a hero.”

You clenched your jaw.

“I should’ve been better…”

Aizawa could tell you had a lot of self hatred, you hated yourself for what happened, you hated the villains for what happened as well.

You didn’t blame the heroes, you knew they had tired their best to help and save your brother, instead you burdened the blame of your brothers death for who knows how long.

In a way he understood, he burdened that same kind of pain, but it didn’t mean he could let you justify your actions.

If you really were a villain yourself you’d be trying to break free, cursing heroes, trying to hurt him, but you weren’t.

Even knowing he could manipulate his scarf and that he would’ve been fine when he fell, you still ran back to help him.

You had all the makings to have been an amazing hero, and yet you took a different route.

He looked at his phone as it buzzed, then he looked back to you.

“Maybe you can get your chance.” He said.

You looked up at him.

“They’re offering an alternative, if you were to pass the heroes exam, you could become a hero.”

“They’re listening?”

He nodded his head, putting his phone back into his pocket.

“Well Tracker? The choice is yours.”

You didn’t reply to him and he sighed heavily, walking back over, crouching in front of you.

“I don’t condone what you’ve been doing, frankly I think it’s stupid as hell. But, you’ve got the makings to be a hero, you always had, that need to protect people, the desire to justice. You’ve just been going about it the wrong way. The hero commission want you to fight with us, help us keep the streets save, and save people like your brother.”

“I’d never pass the heroes exam anyways.”

“If a group of teenagers can pass so can you.”

You looked away from him.

“Why do you care? I’m just another unruly quirk user, right?”

He shrugged a little bit.

“Your choice, but no matter what you choose they’re not going to give up, they will ask you again.”

You sighed heavily, looking at the other heroes that were standing on the roof opposite you, just waiting for you to make a move.

“You can be a hero, in your brother’s name.” He said quietly.

You turned back to the pro hero, slowly nodding your head.

“Okay.”

He stood up, pulling his phone out of his pocket, walking away while he made a phone call before coming back a few minutes later, holding up some cuffs.

“Just a precaution.”

He cuffed you then released you from the scarf you were trapped in.

You didn’t want to stop fighting, so if being chained down by the rules that heroes followed meant that you could keep fighting then that’s what you would do.

You didn’t care what rules you had to follow, you wanted justice for everybody who couldn’t get it themselves, you wanted this world to be a better place

[kitsunefox1108]

Self aware! Cloud Strife x Fem! Reader

you are angel?

You took a deep breath as you returned home. It's been a hard day and all you can think about is getting some rest and playing your favorite game.

At first you lay on the bed, having a little sleep. After about 40 minutes, was already doing what you wanted.

sitting down, you turned on your computer/console and waited.

all day you thought about it, and finally there was an opportunity to spend time as you wanted. You were very attracted to the plot of Final Fantasy, because of which you often thought about what would happen next during a break from something. What is Cloud's background? Who is Sephiroth, who constantly appears in his life? What is Aerith hiding? And much more that you might be asking as a question as a franchise newbie.

when your gaming device was launched, you inserted the game disc and started playing.

that's the best couple of hours of your life before bed.

you passed the moment where there was a championship in strength. (I hope I was able to describe correctly) where Cloud and Aeris fought against other teams. You noticed Cloud's very intense look during idle animations, which was not there before. It seemed odd, but anyway, what's the difference? new animation, that's all.

But the problem was that Cloud was just staring at you intently. He saw you, but knew that you were not around. You are… roughly speaking, intangible. He can see you and hear your voice, but not interact. Exactly the same as you … only to manage him. If it can be called at least some kind of interaction.

Cloud was tired, tense, and just…afraid he'd gone crazy. He wasn't supposed to see you, right? But he constantly feels that you control him .. in some strange and incomprehensible way for him.

you decide to take a break for a couple of minutes, stretching the muscles that have pinched you, while you have been sitting in an almost motionless position for three hours. A small moan of pain escaped your mouth as you tried to relieve the pain and pressure in your shoulders. The blond looked at you all the time, and understood that you still really could control him. After all, when you released the gamepad / keyboard, it did not move. And he couldn't do it.

Cloud then began to worry about how long this would take. Why are you in control of his life? Is he in something unreal? Non-existent? Why is this happening to him? He couldn't think of a reasonable explanation.

when you started to pass further, the blond wanted to sigh heavily but could not. He was annoyed that he was limited in his actions, even if he understood that he was being controlled. However, he tired of being a doll in someone's hands …

and now… the Sector 7 slums are starting to fall apart. Lavina's partners die, more precisely Biggs and Jessie. You, like Tifa, cry because you really feel sorry for the characters, even if they are not real. The truth is that you were confused.. Cloud did not show any emotions at all. Just a little confusion and tension, but no more .. there was no visible sadness, maybe regret. Some kind of sympathy for the same Tifa, who finds it hard to accept the death of her partners.

You couldn't even imagine what was going on in Cloud's head at that moment...

a couple more hours and it's time for you to finish, because you need to get ready for bed, because of tomorrow's business.

you're about to take out the disc and turn off the console/computer when all of a sudden you have a little game freeze. You tensed up a little, but decided not to pay much attention. Honey, it's your error…

Cloud has gained access to your system, and now he wants to take a closer look at his existence, and your life.

( if you like this fanfiction, i might to make a second part. )

[pearlywritings]

I don’t want you to think, I don’t want you to worry

synopsis: Lately you’ve been very busy preparing for the examination to take the Akademiya professor position, and it leaves you incredibly stressed. All you need is a concerned boyfriend with a perfect way to distress.

pairing: Kaveh x fem!reader

tw: smut, oral, a lot of praise, a bit of dumbification I suppose, established relationship

word count: 3.3k+ words

a/n: Kaveh and reader are somewhere between late twenties and very early thirties.

Letters leap across the fully written scroll and your head starts hurting from how much of the words there are and how little free space there is. And when your gaze wanders to the side and in a blur makes out dozens of the similar scrolls sprawled all over your table, a frustrated groan on the verge of a whine escapes your throat.

You'll kill Alhaitham one day for convincing you to take an examination for the Vahumana professor position. But how could you resist and fight the prideful feeling rising in your chest when the Alhaitham, the man who rarely spares any praise, complimented and pointed out so many of your skills and vast knowledge, suitable for the position of such high prestige and importance. You truly were flattered, especially by his words that the Akademyia needs some reformation and even Lesser Lord Kusanali eagerly approves it… Could you really lose the opportunity and fail your Archon?

Now you think that you could, after a week of studying like a first-course student in anticipation for their very first exam. You should've denied him. For god's sake, you are the Dastur already and just one examination away from being recognized not only as a professor, but as the Herbad as well - not many achieved this in their late twenties, your multiple works are cited and analyzed during lectures, a couple even coming as close as being called fundamental, yet here you are, exhausting yourself over preparation materials, having little idea what will await you during the examination (no one knows, Alhaitham wouldn't tell and you wouldn't ask).

First few days were quite alright, but at this point you are slowly losing your sanity. Coffee doesn't work, green tea doesn't work, energetic drinks Dehya recommended you do not work… Even a relaxing almost half an hour long shower didn't help you. You can only brush your still a little bit wet hair back not to drip water on the scrolls, and sigh in frustration. You don't remember when the beautiful grandfather clock on your left counted midnight. It must be hours, but you have no desire to check - this discovery will only put you in a greater state of misery. Oh how you wish to be in bed now, surrounded by warmth and quickly drifting to sleep.

You will yourself to focus your droopy eyes back on the text, trying to grasp the last of the topic you are on. That's when you hear the shuffling behind your study's door. Ears catch the sounds of the footsteps passing by your door and going to the kitchen. Mm, looks like you are not the only one awake, but the other person at least has more chances to catch sleep today.

Ever since Kaveh moved in with you, finally convinced that you do not think of him as a burden and that no, you don't think it'd be him using you for his own benefits, he has managed to save more money and get very close to fully paying off the debt. This fixed his working hours and he stopped going all nighters like, well, you are doing right now, actually getting enough rest and energy to work on his projects' blueprints.

Why is he awake right now though? You have no idea and your brain refuses to even care, maybe it's just for a glass of water?

You change your sitting position for the hundredth time.

Only to almost jump when a voice reeking with discontent enters the room.

"Are you at it again?"

Tired eyes meet the red-wine ones of a man who always looks like he is about to give you a piece of his mind. And he totally is.

"As you can see," you want to sound sarcastic, but you are too worn out for this and have absolutely no desire to argue with the boyfriend that cares and really does a lot to lessen this weight you (and Alhaitham) have dumped upon your shoulders.

"Now I might sound hypocritic- not like I care, but you need to go to bed. Now."

His words settle in your brain, but become completely overshadowed by the picture your eyes are witnessing. Your gorgeous lover looks so ethereal. Blond silky hair is a bit messy, not held by clips, yet it only adds to his natural charm; ruby eyes glint beautifully as he steps closer to your table; strong arms cross on his bared chest, and you just can't help but ogle at how his muscles move. The only thing that spoils the visage is a deep scowl on his face.

"I can't. Not yet, pretty," you softly murmur, reaching for the scrolls to roll some of them. "See, I just have a small topic to review and that's it-"

"And for how long have you been on this topic?" An elegant arch of his brow and your face falls, telling him enough.

"Knew it."

The embarrassed expression appearing on your face and eyes casted downwards do not escape his sharp gaze. He might be just out of bed, but his profession taught him early on how to be observant and attentive to details. Kaveh sighs and resumes his walking to you.

You hear him stop by your side, nervously fidgeting with a scroll still tightly clutched in your hands. You feel slightly ashamed right now, for two reasons. First is quite easy to guess - getting caught in this state right after you nagged your boyfriend for months to start leading a healthier lifestyle and stop working till the latest hours of the night (sometimes well into the morning). And second is from feeling the weight of his gaze on you and understanding that he is worried and you are the reason for that (though you do both share the desire to kick Alhaitham's ass, since partially it’s his fault too).

But all the thoughts are wiped out of your mind when long fingers grab your chin and lift your head, tilting it back. The flash of gold, the gleam of red, and the next moment his soft lips are on yours. You melt. Fingers relax and you hear something bump your leg and then fall with a knock on the floor. Though Kaveh is quick to steal your attention, catching your hand and squeezing it, breaking the kiss just for a moment to breathe and then kissing you again. The room starts spinning.

"Kaveh…" you meekly whisper in between rushed and hot kisses, feeling your heart flutter by the way he stares deep into your eyes, before pressing his lips to your jaw.

"Come to bed with me," he urges you again, thumb rubbing over your knuckles, brushing back and forth, while more pecks are placed on your rosy cheeks.

"But-" is silenced with another kiss. Sweet whimpers form in your throat and your lover is happy to swallow them, releasing your hand and reaching for the back of your chair instead. You gasp when the piece of furniture is yanked and dragged farther from the table, giving him enough room to get in-between.

The man relishes the hazy look in your eyes, as you are looking up at him, knowing just what he is doing to you. Hovering, with palms planted on the armrests and leaning in. Oh, he loves how your gaze flickers from his face to his chest and back, which means he is actually distracting you and effectively so.

"What was that?" A smooth chuckle sends a jolt through your body and suddenly there is a tingling sensation in your core. "A 'but'-something? No, no, my lovebird, I need you to stop rationalizing everything. I want you to stop thinking. Yeah, that's right, just no thoughts and no worries about those stupid examinations. And," his gaze slides down and stops on the belt of a bathrobe you've put on after the shower, not caring to dress properly, "I might know just how to help you. Tell me, lovebird," he leans even closer, noses almost touching and lips brushing just briefly, "are you wearing anything under this?"

You swallow a lump in your throat and fidget in your seat. The excitement rising in your system becomes quite obvious.

"Ah, no, I figured-"

"Good… Means it'll be easier for me," and the next thing he does makes blood rush to your cheeks. He draws himself back and, kicking the fallen scroll somewhere to the side, drops onto his knees before you. Strong arms flex when he moves the chair closer and you jolt forward from the sudden motion, grabbing his shoulder to steady yourself.

“No, no, my love, I need you to lean back,” his hand is gentle, pressing flatly against your chest, and pushing you back against the chair. You bite your lip, when long elegant fingers hook the hem of it, and teasingly tug to the side, then the other half. The material slides down your shoulders, baring your collarbones and not falling further only due to the plumpness of your heaving chest. Kaveh absolutely loves the view before him - if he was to build a temple in your honor, he’d capture this state of yours in one of the staining glasses. He leans closer.

Your head tilts back, when his hot lips press between your soft mounds.

“Mmm… You are so beautiful… I can’t believe this smart, and sweet and gorgeous woman is mine,” he slightly turns his head and sucks on the left breast.

“Kave- aah!” You whimper, arching into him, the material threatening to slip and bare more of you. Your legs twitch and wrap around his torso, urging him to press even closer to you. Archons, you were so caught up in your preparation, that you completely ignored your body’s urges, no wonder it's reacting to his igniting touches like this. When was the last time you let your lover have you under him like this, squirming and moaning?

“Uh-uh-uh,” he clicks his tongue, palm sliding up your hip, and burying itself under the lower half of the bathrobe, grabbing your curve. “I can clearly sense you are still thinking, and I don’t want it. Come on, baby, the faster you let me wipe all thoughts out of your head, the faster we’ll be in bed enjoying that nice sleep you’ve been pestering me with for almost a year.”

“I was worried for you- mmh!” The blond-haired tempter makes use of his free hand, groping your barely clothed right breast, brushing his thumb over the stiff nipple. The teasing touch and the pressure it provides through the thin material sends another jolt right to your cunt and your legs clench even harder in an attempt to close your thighs and rub them, failing to do so with his body in-between.

“I know you did, and I am worried for you now too. You are exhausting yourself. But don’t worry, I am here to help you relax and give yourself a break. Now, before I start executing my plan to make your mind numb, why don’t you untie this knot for me?”

Through the settling fog in your head, you will yourself to concentrate on what he requires of you. If before you still had that tiny slither of understanding that you are not done with the topic yet, now it’s right out of the window. Because how can you fight, when Kaveh looks at you like this?

So your fingers reach to the loose knot, twisting and pulling it, until two ends of the belt are held separately in your hands. The kiss your boyfriend presses to the inside of your wrist makes you shiver.

“Good girl…” He murmurs in a sultry voice, and you almost whimper from two words alone. He takes your hands and let them rest on the armrests, while he is all too happy to finally open the robe and leave you completely bare to him. And the sharp inhale he takes when he does it? You feel how you are leaking.

“Archons, you are so beautiful. I love everything about you,” a tiny moan escapes your throat, when he straightens more, reaching for your neck, sliding his naked torso right between your trembling thighs. “I love the way your neck meets your shoulders…” There is instantly a kiss right in the crook where your neck descends in your shoulder. “And here, these pretty collarbones,” he trails his kisses lower. “I love the curve of your breasts, mmm,” more kisses are spared for your tender flesh, “and your hard nipple too,” he gives it a slow lick, dragging his wet muscle over the stiff bud, and you moan again. “Oh, but I can't forget about the other one. I have to play with both of them equally, can’t show favorites, right?” 

Before you can even answer his mouth envelopes your other nipple and gives it a soft suck, and then one more, and one more, and-

To his delight your consciousness is slowly slipping into pleasure. Good, he hums in content, switching back to the previously saliva-coated bud, - means you’ll indeed fall asleep in a bed tonight, and not crouched in your chair over the working desk.

You gasp when he grabs your legs right under your knees and forces them away from his body, spreading them and then quickly placing them on his shoulders. Oh heavens, your face heats, as you realize what this position is. Your pussy should be on full display for him right now. 

It turns you on even more.

“Mmm, someone’s getting wiggly,” he chuckles, sensually kissing the insides of your thighs. “That’s my pretty girl, so excited and accepting of everything I am giving her. Why don’t you play with your tits, while I am eating this gorgeous wet pussy out, mm? I want you to toy with yourself, while my face is buried right in your heat, can you do it for me?”

“What..? I- oooh, yes, I-I can… Please.”

Shit, and here the man was trying not to get a boner pleasing you. But, he has to remind himself, your pleasure is his top priority right now.

Before you can even touch your chest, his tongue is already lapping on your wet entrance. You flush up to your ears, when Kaveh moans in your sex, kissing, and sucking, and slurping, making obscene noises with how messy he is devouring you.

“That’s it, ah, that’s my lovebird. Yeah, just take my tongue, mhm, feel like it’s filling you, mmm… You like it, right?”

"Yes-!" You grab your breasts, arching even more in his awaiting mouth, only to scream when he harshly sucks on your clit.

"Mmm, so good, so pretty…" He mumbles in your pussy, giving your bundle of nerves another suck and releasing it with a wet pop. Next he presses the tip of his tongue into it, teasing with fast strokes, making you squirm in your seat. And your thighs trying to clamp around his head - Archons, he loves your thighs. He wants more.

The slurping sounds reach your ears and go straight to your core, walls clenching around nothing, and Kaveh quickly deduces it.

"How about a finger baby, m? A finger in your tight wet cunt while I am marking these pretty thighs? Oh? Can't answer? Good."

You want to, you really do, but when one digit enters you and feels right at home, snug between your walls, words have no way to form. You can only moan and pant, as your lover kisses and sucks on the tender skin of your inner thighs, all the while mercilessly fingering you. You want to tell him you love him, you appreciate him, you want more of him, but you can only look at him with pleading eyes. And when he lifts his burning gaze and your eyes meet? You know he can read all of it behind the haze in your glazed over orbs.

"I love you too, lovebird," he murmurs, planting another kiss on your thigh, "love you so much. That's why I am making sure you are going to rest, yeah? Gotta make you cum," another finger slips inside and you have to break eye contact, throwing your head back, when he curls them against that delicious spot inside, "gotta force the stress out of your system, can't have my love so tired and worried."

"Ka… veh…" You manage through your lovely moans, and the man curses right against your swollen clit. He can't help it, when the only thought on your mind is him. Oh, how much he adores you. Maybe it's not the most logical thought to have when you are knuckles deep in your woman's cunt, tongue toying with her clit, but he suddenly returns to the thought of marrying you. Once you settle in your new position, when he says 'goodbye' to that debt of his and can purchase you the prettiest ring… To ask you the question he's been meaning to for years, but then having to put the event aside due to one financial obstacle. Yeah, that sounds so right. Something about eating his wife out to help her distress makes him lose his mind and practically suffocate himself between your thighs, crashing his head. You are so close, you must be so damn close.

"Come on, cum for me, love. Cum for me, cum, cum cum-"

"KavEH-!"

When you scream and roll your eyes back, the man takes his fingers out and stuffs you with his tongue instead. Long lashes flutter and eyelids slide close as he tongue-fucks you through your earth-crashing orgasm, feasting on your juices and inhaling such a familiar scent of your natural musk. It truly feels like it’s been so long, maybe he should take you to bed like this more often. Say, every day until you pass that stupid examination as a starter. Yeah, that's perfect.

The blond takes a breath sharply when your legs relax, no longer sandwiching his head between them and stifles a couple of coughs, having no desire to worry you with his well-being. After all it is about you, he'd hate to steal the center of attention even for a second.

Going limp, you close your eyes and try to regulate your breathing. Your chest is heaving and your consciousness is slowly returning to the body. You can feel soft kisses trailing over your stomach and up to your chest, lingering on your wildly beating heart, soothing it with tender murmurs, nose nudging against the sweat-covered skin.

Kaveh is as breathless as you are, and you spend a few moments like this - pressed close, with limbs loosely wrapped around each other. You feel so contently exhausted and the warmth of your lover's body against yours provides additional comfort you've been secretly yearning for.

His palms press into the small of your back, slowly caressing, while your fingers bury in his silky locks, running through them, massaging his scalp almost absentmindedly, and Kaveh smiles in your chest, satisfied with your clearly relaxed state.

“Love?” You softly call for him, and the man hums, lifting his head to face you. Archons, the dreamy look suits you so magnificently. “Thank you. You caring for me really means a lot.”

He smiles widely, drawing his body back and carefully putting one foot on the floor, pushing his palms against the armrests and slowly getting on both feet, straightening and rolling shoulders. The legs feel a little bit stiff and he can feel numbness spreading, but he chooses to ignore it. Leaning in again instead, he places a sweet kiss on your slightly swollen lips. There is still some of your essence coating his, making a tiny flame flicker in your lower stomach.

“Of course, my lovebird,” he nudges his nose against yours, hands rubbing your shoulders to work a little on the knots you got there from your ever-sitting position. “It’s nice to see the crease between your eyebrows disappear along with the overall exhaustion practically written all over your face.”

You do not fight the smile when he says those kind words. And he is right - you feel so much better.

“So…” he muses, drawing the bathrobe up your arms and over your shoulders. “Can I take you to bed now?”

To that you chuckle, reaching your limbs to wrap around him.

“Well… Wasn’t that the initial plan?”

[magicshopaholic]

A Night of Firsts

Summary: Yoongi spends the night in the studio with the last person he wants to be with. Seokjin prepares for an important dinner.

Pairing: Seokjin x OC, Yoongi x OC (different OCs)

Genre: Best friends, coworkers; mild humour, banter, awkwardness, tension, angst

Word count: 12.8 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, alcohol, smoking, mentions of pregnancy and sex

A/N: Tried something here (read: this isn't regular angst; it's cool angst). Takes place a couple of months after New Year’s Eve Eve. Banner by the lovely @hobeemin - thank you, Beezy <3

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @confessionsofamarshlily @purpleseoul7

Listen to: "black sun" by death cab for cutie

seokjin masterlist | yoongi masterlist | main masterlist

“That was good.”

Yoongi’s voice takes on an encouraging lilt that sounds rather unfamiliar - to Miso at least. She turns and gives him a blank look, just enough to convey her acknowledgement of his tone.  

The young idol in the recording booth stutters a thank you, while Yoongi returns Miso’s glance with a slight raise of the eyebrows.

Miso struggles not to roll her eyes and speaks into the mic, pausing the track. “Yeah - but try it again, a little calmer and relaxed this time?”

The idol - his name escapes her - nods and repeats the line, his clear soprano ringing through the speakers. “How was that?” he asks expectantly.

She forces a smile onto her face with remarkable ease. “So good.” Keeping the expression frozen on her face, she turns off the mic and tilts her head towards Yoongi. “You see that was exactly the same as before, right?” she mutters.

Yoongi purses his lips to suppress a smile; once in a while, when Miso’s snark and sarcasm isn’t directed at him, she can actually be funny.

“He just needs some time,” he replies and turns on the mic again. “That was better, Jungwon,” he says to the idol, whose eyes seem to mist over at the compliment. “Let’s do one more take for comparison. This time, can you go a little higher at the end? It’ll sound more playful, natural. Yeah? Okay, let’s go.”

Jungwon sings the same line again, and even Miso can’t help but raise her eyebrows at the improvement. 

“Damn,” she mutters, giving him a thumbs up from behind the plexiglass. “What superpower is that?”

“Practical feedback,” supplies Yoongi, giving Jungwon a rare smile of approval. “You tell them what to do instead of what you want. Makes a world of difference.”

“Huh.” Miso nods, apparently impressed. “Guess it’s a good thing I got assigned to you. You may have a lot to teach me.”

“I don’t think this assignment is going to last that long,” he quips, giving her an innocent shrug as she smiles widely in response to his sarcasm.

“Um, hyung,” stutters Jungwon from inside. “I’m - I’m getting a call from my manager, so can I - can I -”

“Yeah, of course.” Yoongi shakes his head slightly as the door to the studio swings shut. “He needs to relax,” he mutters.

“That was the feedback I gave him. Wasn’t applicable enough, apparently,” adds Miso, swinging slightly in her chair. “Shall we listen to what we have so far?”

Yoongi motions for her to play it and leans back in his swivelling chair, crossing his fingers on his stomach and closing his eyes. The audio plays, nearly three hours worth of Jungwon’s hard work and almost a day’s of their own in production. Miso is equally silent until the track ends and for a few moments after, until Yoongi winces slightly.

“It’s not our best work,” he admits, sighing. “Maybe it’ll be better once we get that bridge arrangement from Donghyuk. He should send it over in a bit.”

“Can’t we just ask him how long it’ll take?” she asks, already reaching for her phone. “If it’s going to take all night, the least we can do is get some sleep before working on it in the morning.” She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “God, I hope it takes all night.”

“You would think,” he says, stretching and rolling his chair closer to the controls, “but we need to mix the whole thing tonight. Marketing wants a sample in the morning so they can decide whether or not it can go in the soundtrack package of the group’s video game.”

Miso is quiet for a moment. “In that case, it can’t get done fast enough. I’m going to go next door and follow up with Donghyuk.” 

“Be my guest,” he mutters, putting on a pair of headphones.

She’s about to leave when she stops and turns, the door half open. “Maybe we can sweet talk Marketing into giving us an extension. What was that manager’s name again? Seulgi?”

—

“Wait, what’s his girlfriend’s name again? Seulgi?”

Nari shrugs noncommittally as the elevator pings and opens up on Seokjin’s floor. They step out into the dim lighting, Nari’s heart jerking uncomfortably with every beat. The closer she gets to this dinner, the more it feels like a terrible idea. 

But Seokjin proposed it - a double date - and she had no choice, especially when he offered it at a high school reunion, surrounded by their hometown and their old friends. It was Seokjin’s way of extending an olive branch. That far away from their everyday lives, it felt easier to talk to each other again, even forget for a moment how messed up everything was between them. It was a glimpse of their old friendship and Nari did what was necessary to hold on to it, which included saying yes to dinner with Seokjin and his new girlfriend.

A few feet away from his apartment, she halts. “Jason,” she begins, turning to him. Tall and freshly showered, in a black button-down with the sleeves folded halfway up his forearms, it occurs to her suddenly just how much she owes him for accompanying her tonight.

He tilts his head slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just… thank you for this. I know it’s probably a little awkward because it’s technically a double date and you and I aren’t…” She trails off and is relieved to see him shrug easily. “But I’m glad you’re here. I owe you.” She doesn’t know how to word the fact that she’s glad there will be one person in her corner tonight, but from the knowing nod he gives her, he might just know.

Jason squints for a moment and pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “It’s no big deal. Honestly, from what you’re telling me, I may be the only person for whom this night won’t be awkward,” he points out. “And besides, anything to get out of the hospital tonight. If I have to listen to Heejin brag one more time about the cool bone graft surgery she stole from me, I might throw a shoe at her head.”

Nari pauses. “So… you’re saying I’m doing you a favour as much as you’re doing me one?”

“Probably not as big, but, yeah.”

“Works for me.” Exhaling and forcing a smile, she begins walking again, this time not stopping until she’s actually in front of Seokjin’s door. She rings the doorbell, when Jason suddenly swears under his breath. “What?”

“Damn it, I forgot my inhaler in the car.” He pats his pockets. “I’ll be back in one minute, okay?” Patting her shoulder and ignoring her frantic shaking of the head, he jogs down the corridor and presses the elevator button, stepping in just as the front door opens.

“Hey.” Seokjin gives her a small smile and steps aside, motioning for her to enter. Nari steps inside, the familiarity of the hall making her nervous. “Where’s Jason?”

“Um, he forgot something in the car. He should be up in a minute.”

“Oh. Okay.” Seokjin shuts the door, their shoulders brushing momentarily. He’s in black, too, the collar of his shirt open and the hollow of his neck exposed. He’s in slacks, though, and barefoot, something oddly and heartbreakingly domestic about it.

Nari slips off her shoes and follows him inside, somewhat regretting her decision to wear make-up tonight and trying to remember the last time she was in this house. It looks exactly the same, except for minor differences. She sets her bag inside by one of the chairs and is about to sit on the sofa out of habit, but stops herself at the last minute.

“This is for you,” she says, suddenly remembering. Retrieving a bottle of red wine from her tote bag, she hands it to him.

“Wow, thank you.” Seokjin nods and briefly skims the label. “That’s really nice.” He walks over to the open kitchen and places the bottle on the island where plates, cutlery and napkins are neatly stacked, ready for use. Pausing, he turns to her again.

“Do you want a drink?”

“I’m on call.”

Seokjin falls silent and nods. It occurs to Nari that he may have wanted a drink, but was trying to be polite. She considers asking for a glass of wine anyway when he speaks.

“Is Jason alright?”

“What? Yeah, I guess.” She shrugs. “We parked a little way down the street. Where’s, uh…”

Seokjin’s eyes shutter over slightly. “Seulgi.”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

“Stuck in traffic. She should be here any minute.”

Silence again. Nari half-wishes she’d declined this dinner - or accepted the drink. Neither of those options would even come close to fixing anything, but they might have made this particular moment less unpleasant or completely non-existent.

“Thanks for coming.” Seokjin tries again. “I was a little afraid you might decide not to.”

“I said I would, didn’t I?”

There’s a moment where they hold each other’s gaze and she thinks he’s about to retort. She almost wants him to, not wanting to be the only one making this night uncomfortable. But then he simply nods once and looks away, slipping his hands in his pocket.

Nari swallows, already feeling a trickle of shame creeping up her throat at that jab. “The food smells great,” she ventures, and the smell wafting from the kitchen instantly seems stronger.

Seokjin cracks a smile. “Thanks. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, definitely. Kind of skipped lunch, so…”

He looks like he’s about to ask, but visibly changes tacks. “It’s bulgogi and japchae,” he states.

“Sounds good.” The awkward silence this time feels like a physical attack so she continues with reckless abandon. “By the way, you didn’t - you didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she stammers, gesturing to the kitchen. “We could’ve just ordered in.”

“Oh, it was no problem,” he says immediately, shaking his head. “Unless… do you want to order in? We - we can, if you want -”

“No, no, of course not -”

“It’s really okay -”

Mercifully, the doorbell rings just then and both Seokjin and Nari break off abruptly. Exchanging a gaze of pure panic and a mutual relief, Seokjin moves past her to get to the door.

—

Meanwhile, Yoongi is hanging on to his last vestiges of patience. 

“Jungwon,” he says deliberately into the mic, “it’s not a contest. Okay? It’s a song about freedom. You’re not a trainee anymore and you’re not going to get cut at the end of the night.” Giving him an encouraging nod, he takes his finger off the button and sits back in the chair. 

“Trainwreck,” mutters Miso, sounding as annoyed as he feels. 

“Don’t,” he warns her quietly. “We can’t have him getting discouraged right now. He needs to finish recording this tonight.”

“Discouraged?” She frowns at him, looking slightly incredulous. “I think we passed discouraged a while ago. He looks like he’s about to burst into tears. You have maybe… twenty minutes before that bomb goes off.”

She’s right, Yoongi realises with some dread. “Jungwon!” he calls into the mic. “You’re doing great!”

Next to him, Miso snorts. “Dude, that convinced no one.”

“Not helping,” he hisses. “You know what, Jungwon? Take five. Go get a coffee and come back, and we’ll take it from the top.”

The young idol lowers his head, looking crestfallen, and slowly trudges out of the studio. 

Yoongi watches him leave before turning to Miso. “You know, you could try and help him through this.”

She raises her eyebrows. “And what is this exactly?”

“The - the process. Encourage him a little bit, make him feel like he belongs here. He’s just a kid.”

“A - he’s twenty-two,” she corrects him, looking unimpressed. “And I’m sorry, okay? I’m not his therapist - it’s not my job to hold his hand. My job was to mix the instrumentals and come up with a complete arrangement, which is what I spent all day doing,” she reminds him. “I gave you six options and at least one of them is decent.”

Unfortunately, Yoongi cannot argue with this, for she did provide him with a range of choices for the final mixing session. They’re better than decent; in fact, he’s having trouble choosing between two of them. She’s not a prodigy, but she’s talented - and is coming alarmingly close to churning out the kind of music he genuinely approves of.

But he isn’t about to admit any of this to her. Compliments with Miso are like navigating a field of landmines: take one wrong step and the dynamic between them is instantly changed.

“Working with the singer is also part of this job,” he tells her instead. “So is encouraging them and getting the best out of them. Or they’ll do a subpar job of it and your precious arrangements won’t matter because the finished song will suck.”

Miso sighs. “Fine. Let him come back and I’ll try to coddle him through the process. Just… stop pretending he’s a child.”

“You have no idea what he’s had to go through to get here,” he argues. “He was a trainee for four years. It’s absolute hell. The ones who are lucky enough to debut come out with more armour than you’ll know.”

“Seriously? Armour?”

Yoongi doesn’t respond, his cheeks heating up slightly. It’s something he never realised he did, saying things that sounded more dramatic than he intended. But Miso noticed, and picked up on it. It was one of many quirks in each other that they noted and leveraged, and this one annoyed him just as much as the others.

“Yes, armour,” he repeats, opening up one of Miso’s arrangement files from earlier today.

“Is it armour that’s keeping him here -” She checks her phone, “- three hours longer than he was meant to be?”

“It is, actually. It’s called hard work and sacrifice.”

The insult in his tone doesn’t escape her. “And obviously, I have no concept of either of those things,” she says sarcastically.

“Your words, not mine.”

“So that is what you’re saying.”

Yoongi finally turns to her, giving her a look. “Wasn’t that a limited edition Range Rover I saw dropping you off this morning?”

It’s Miso’s turn to flush, but she doesn’t look away. “I fail to see what business that is of yours,” she says coldly.

“People who get dropped off to work in their father’s fancy cars aren’t known for things like sacrifice, is all.” He adjusts a few settings and plays the track again but at low volume. It’s the third option Miso sent him earlier today; he overlays the audio on it and they listen to Jungwon’s latest attempt.

They’re silent for a minute and a half while the music plays, possibly the longest ninety seconds of Yoongi’s life.

“Well,” says Miso finally, when the track ends abruptly, “I think that’s enough sacrifice for one night. I think I need a smoke. You know, to let all of that armoured talent wash over my privileged self,” she adds dryly, getting up. “If you can take a break from Jungwon’s masterpiece for a minute, you’re welcome to join me.”

Yoongi doesn’t answer her, staring sullenly at the rubbish recording they have so far. It’s going to be a long night, and his options right now are attempting to salvage a second-rate audio sample or hanging out one on one with Kang Miso.

The answer comes surprisingly simply to him.

“Hey, wait up,” he says a moment later, pushing his chair back and standing up, feeling his knees stretch. “I could use a smoke, too.”

—

It’s only been an hour and yet, it feels like one of the longest nights of Seokjin’s life. He can’t tell exactly what’s wrong, though - other than everything. 

Seulgi and Jason arrived together, giving him and Nari some respite from the painful awkwardness that seems to have replaced two decades of friendship. After the initial ten minutes which consisted of introductions, typical small talk and serving of drinks, he was forced to acknowledge the lack of talking points in common between two doctors and two people in entertainment.

Jason, for his part, seems to be the only person keeping the conversation going with ease. Seokjin suspects Nari would have filled him in somewhat on the situation, but he can’t imagine what she would have said exactly. My best friend that you met that I slept with and told my mom was a no-go from the dating angle but still asked if he had feelings for me and got upset when he lied and then had a pregnancy scare with followed by months of tense conversation is inviting us to dinner with the girlfriend he met when he was supposed to meet me at a party?

It seems far too wordy, even for Nari. She seems to be cordial enough to Seulgi, though, whom Seokjin can’t thank enough for being so graceful even after a long day of arguing with producers, only to end the day having dinner with her boyfriend and the best friend he hooked up with.

“Oh, Jason,” she says, after a brief recalling of the discussion she had earlier today with Yoongi and his abrasive assistant producer, “your glass is empty. Do you want a refill?”

“Sure, thanks,” he replies, smiling and moving to stand up from his place on the sofa. But Seulgi motions for him to stay, already gliding towards the kitchen island where the opened bottle of wine is placed and bringing it back. “Thank you,” he repeats when she pours him a generous serving.

“You’re welcome. Nari?” She looks over at Nari, who’s said about eight words in the last hour. “Are you sure I can’t get you a drink? Even a small one?”

Nari pauses for a moment before answering, her facial muscles moving in what could be the beginning of a forced smile, but doesn’t reach all the way. “Like I said, I’m on call,” she says. Then, in a slightly lower voice, she adds, “Just like I was twenty minutes ago.”

Seulgi pokes her tongue into her cheek and her gaze falls slightly. She looks like she’s about to say something but finally decides not to, straightening up and placing the bottle on a coaster on the coffee table. 

Seokjin stares at Nari. “It can be non-alcoholic. Ginger ale or… lemonade or something?”

She gives him the briefest of glances. “I’m really okay.”

There’s another terse silence during which Seokjin resists the urge to close his eyes and sigh. He stares into his own glass of wine, the same one he’d started the night with. Much as he’d like to drown his annoyance in alcohol, he’s honestly a little afraid of what he might say if he drinks too much, and the last thing he needs is for this night to become any more uncomfortable.

“Uh, Seokjin,” begins Jason, making him look up. “Nari tells me you cook. The food smells great, by the way.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s true,” he responds, nodding a little too hard. “In fact - shall we eat? If everyone’s hungry?”

There’s an awkward chorus of yeses and of courses as everyone gets to their feet and shuffles towards the dining table, a simple and elegant eight-seater adjacent to the kitchen. Seokjin stops at the kitchen and begins gathering the various serving dishes when someone approaches him.

“Need a hand?” Jason offers good-naturedly.

“Uh… yeah, sure. Thanks.”

They begin assembling cutlery and Seokjin turns on the stove for a few seconds to heat the food. It occurs to him that Nari and Seulgi are alone at the table; it makes him vaguely anxious.

Almost as if Jason is reading his mind, he speaks, forcing Seokjin out of his reverie.

“By the way, thanks for having us over.” He waits until Seokjin looks at him. “Obviously, the food looks amazing and… Seulgi seems great.”

“Thanks.” Seokjin nods, feeling an unexpected gratitude towards him. “She is. And… glad you guys could make it. I know you work a lot.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Nari’s best friend, right?” He half-chuckles, sounding a bit uncomfortable now. “Also, she’s not… she - she’s been working really long hours lately. Lost a patient yesterday… I’m guessing she hasn’t got a lot of sleep.”

It takes Seokjin a moment to realise this information is meant to be an explanation for Nari’s behaviour tonight, meaning he isn’t imagining it. He turns off the stove but doesn’t move, wondering how he’s supposed to respond to this. He gives Jason a sideways glance.

When he’d invited Nari to dinner, he hadn’t quite known what the status of her relationship with Jason was. In an effort to not pry, he’d simply said you can bring Jason, too, if you want. Evidently, she did, and while Seokjin can’t help but be glad about it, it still gives him no indication as to whether they’re actually together, although it seems fairly likely.

He wonders if he’ll ever be able to ask Nari about it, before remembering it’s none of his business.

Seokjin clears his throat. “It’s… it’s okay. I get it.”

Jason nods, looking rather like he wants to ask something but apparently thinks the better of it. “Nice shirt,” he remarks, a joking lilt to his tone.

Seokjin looks down to look at his black shirt before noticing Jason wearing the exact same thing. He cracks a smile, a real smile, and his face feels slightly better.

“You, too.”

When they arrive at the table, it’s to see Nari and Seulgi on opposite seats at the table, the head left conspicuously vacant. Nari is on her phone, while Seulgi seems to be nursing what’s left of her drink, gulping down the last sip when she sees him and Jason.

“Oh, thank God! I mean… looks great.”

Seokjin catches her eye and they share a look of amusement at her slip of tongue. He and Jason set the food on the table and take their seats next to their respective dates. 

“I think we can serve ourselves,” says Seulgi, picking up the bowl of beef and offering it to Jason. “Nari, do you want to start with the meat?”

“I’ll start with the noodles,” she says instead, barely looking at Seulgi and reaching straight for the bowl filled to the brim with noodles.

“I’ll have the meat,” murmurs Seokjin, taking the bowl from his girlfriend. He touches her hand meaningfully as she passes it to him and ladles some into her bowl before moving to his own.

Everyone serves themselves in relative silence, with only mutters about passing dishes around. 

“Oh, wow!” Jason exclaims and everyone jumps slightly. He points enthusiastically to the food with his chopsticks and nods at Seokjin appreciatively. “This is excellent.”

Seokjin smiles back and nods. “Thanks, I’m glad you like it. Are the scallions chopped appropriately this time?” he asks Seulgi, a little teasingly, referring to an inside joke.

She laughs and pats his shoulder. “They’re perfect.”

He grins and looks diagonally across at Nari, who’s sweeping a mouthful of japchae into her mouth. “Nari?” he prompts after a moment.

Nari waits to swallow before looking up at him, her face slowly relaxing into the first genuine smile of the night. “It’s really good,” she agrees softly.

His chest suddenly feeling lighter, Seokjin smiles back and nods. Maybe Jason was right - maybe she was actually just tired and hungry, for now that she’s eating, she seems to be marginally more participative. It’s still Seulgi and Jason carrying the conversation like champions, with Seokjin joining in occasionally, but Nari is at least listening and chuckling on cue, which is a decided improvement from where they began.

Maybe it’s his imagination, but the entire mood of the night improves after that. Jason seems relieved as well; he responds to Nari encouragingly and - Seokjin notes with a twinge of envy he didn’t expect - with an indulgence that can only come with extensive familiarity.

In theory, it increases the likelihood of them being a couple. However - and Seokjin has absolutely no way to back this up except that he knows Nari - he doesn’t think they actually are together. There’s smiling, quiet laughing, shared looks and amused nodding, all of which could indicate a relationship but could also be signs of a really good friendship, for weren’t all of these things that he and Nari did as well, for years?

“Hey.” Seulgi nudges him. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says immediately, squeezing her knee. He tries not to read too much into the lingering look she gives him before turning away, and resolves to focus on more appropriate topics.

It works for a while; Jason tells them all about a fellow resident who irritates the life out of him, complete with a mimicry of her which, if Nari’s reaction is anything to go by, is completely accurate.

“She sounds like a nightmare,” comments Seulgi, shaking her head sympathetically.

“She’s actually not that bad,” disagrees Nari, slapping Jason’s shoulder lightly. “You made her look bad in the skills lab last week when she was just trying to ask a question.”

“And I apologised,” he reminds her. “I let her get a full night’s sleep, even when the ER was flooded with all those pesky, cool surgeries,” he adds with a straight face.

Nari snorts while Seokjin lets out a low whistle. “Wow. You guys are cutthroat.”

Jason shrugs. “Part of the job. I’m sure your jobs are, too, no? Dealing with fame can’t be easy - I would presume,” he adds quickly.

“Not as much as you’d think. Seulgi actually deals with artists and producers,” he tells them, gesturing to her. “That’s cutthroat.”

Seulgi chuckles. “I wouldn’t say cutthroat, but some of them can be a pain for sure.”

“Oh, hey, how did your meeting with Yoongi and his team go?”

“Oh, that.” She sighs and shakes her head. “They managed to talk themselves into a day’s extension for one of the demos.”

“Yoongi asked for an extension?”

“No, his assistant producer did. Kang Chanel,” she states with another sigh. “It’s literally impossible to win a negotiation with her. The last time we tried, that meeting got extended by hours - and we still couldn’t come to a compromise.”

“Damn,” remarks Jason, nodding. “Can’t imagine that. Negotiation is my worst fear - well, Nari’s worst fear for sure,” he adds with a grin at her.

“Yeah, that wasn’t a great night. But it looked up a little after that,” adds Seulgi, smiling at Seokjin. “Remember? It was raining and traffic was backed up fully on the route to my apartment so I came over here? He made me homemade jajjangmyeon,” she tells them. “It was the first thing I’d eaten in - what, twelve hours? And it actually felt like coming home. I mean, you know now that he’s pretty good in the kitchen,” she adds, gesturing to the food on the table.

It takes Seokjin a second to realise that Nari’s gaze is on him; when he looks up and meets her eyes, it’s like being hit by a bus. There’s more meaning in that one look than she’s acknowledged all night and even though she looks away after a moment, her gaze falling to her lap, Seokjin can hear the word echoing between them like a chant. Jajjangmyeon.

Jason laughs at Seulgi’s anecdote, and Seokjin is too preoccupied to realise that Seulgi doesn’t quite respond to it. He’s still looking at Nari, who seems to be done with dinner.

“Um,” she murmurs, taking the napkin off her lap and placing it on her table. “Do you mind if I use the ladies’ room?” Barely waiting for his nod from the corner of her eye, she stands up and walks away. There’s a moment when she’s about to enter his bedroom, presumably out of habit, before abruptly changing directions and going down the hall.

“Actually, I really need to check on this patient, too,” says Jason apologetically. “Do you mind if I -” He picks up his phone.

“No, not at all.” Seokjin watches him leave the dining area and head into the balcony, sliding the door shut behind him.

“Okay, what is going on?” Seulgi asks immediately, her voice low and level.

“What?”

“Something is happening,” she elaborates, twisting in her chair slightly to face him. “There’s a vibe, from… everyone,” she explains, and Seokjin suspects she’s diplomatically avoided using Nari’s name. “It’s like something has happened or is happening… and everybody is in on it but me.”

Seokjin shakes his head slowly. “I - no. I mean, yeah, it was awkward in the beginning -” He looks back surreptitiously in the direction of the guest bathroom to make sure there’s no one there. “But it’s getting better, right?”

Seulgi observes him, a slight frown on her forehead. “What happened between you and Nari?” she asks plainly.

He shrugs. “Nothing. I mean - apart from what I told you.”

“You hooked up.”

“Yeah.”

She continues looking at him, but he can’t detect any suspicion in her tone. “That’s it? You didn’t date?”

“God, no,” he answers immediately. “Never even came close. We - we hooked up a couple of times but… we never really ventured down the dating territory,” he clarifies, realising a moment later that he’s not even lying.

She sighs, biting her lip. “Then what is it? Did I say something? Does she have a problem with me?” she asks, dropping all attempts at keeping her concerns general. “I don’t - I can’t tell. Or is it Jason?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, although he does have an inkling. But it’s too conceited a possibility for him to entertain. “You haven’t done anything,” he assures her.

Seulgi nods slowly. “You’re absolutely sure nothing else happened between you two? Are you guys fighting?”

“We -” Seokjin sighs, for it’s the question of the hour. “I have no idea. It’s a bit awkward right now, I know. It’s complicated.” He pauses, wondering where to begin. “We hooked up, it was fine for a while, then that party happened where you lent me the wrist brace… oh, then I snapped at her at my brother’s wedding - but we resolved that…” He’s just thinking out loud at this point, frowning and pressing a finger to his mouth. “Then we had that pregnancy scare and then I was supposed to meet her at this fundraiser - I guess she’s still mad about that… but we were fine at the reunion last month, too, so I don’t -”

“Wait. Back up.” Seulgi interrupts him. “You guys had a pregnancy scare?”

“Um, yeah,” he answers, a little uneasily. “It was… we were stupid - but I swear, it’s the only time I’ve ever not used a condom, if that’s what you’re -”

“And it was after your brother’s wedding? Didn’t your brother get married, like… six months ago?”

Seokjin hesitates. “Uh… something like that.” When she doesn’t say anything, just frowns deeper as though just realising something, he feels his heart start to race uncomfortably. “Seulgi, what -”

“You thought she was pregnant?”

“But she wasn’t,” he clarifies, still sure he’s missing something. “It was genuinely just a scare.” 

“Pregnancy scares aren’t just scares,” she disagrees, looking a bit incredulous now. “They’re - they’re terrifying. And you two -” She touches her fingers to her temples. “Oh, my God,” she whispers. “You thought she was pregnant…”

“Seulgi -”

But before Seokjin can continue, the balcony door slides open with a sound and Jason returns. A second later, the bathroom door unlocks and Nari appears, running a hand through her hair.

Seokjin chances a glance at Seulgi, who’s staring at her plate, still looking troubled. With his heart sinking slightly, he looks around the table and forces a smile.

“Dessert, anyone?”

—

“Wow.” Yoongi sits back and raises his eyebrows.  

“I know.” Miso nods, albeit sounding less surprised. “That was actually good. Tonight may not be a complete waste after all.”

“Was that better?” Minji, the featured artist, asks from inside the recording booth. Next to her, Jungwon looks daringly hopeful.

“Much better,” says Yoongi into the mic, giving them a thumbs up. 

“Great.” Minji gives them a satisfied smile and hooks her headphones on the mic. Next to her Jungwon follows suit. “Does that mean we can take five?”

“Sure,” says Yoongi, too relieved to deny them anything right now. “Come back quick, though. I want to listen to the last version together and make any changes, if needed.”

Both the artists nod and duck out, leaving him alone with Miso.

“Thank God,” he sighs, stretching in his chair and running his hands over his face. “I think I could cry,” he adds dryly.

Miso frowns, looking amused. “It wasn’t that good. But a definite improvement. We can work with it now, at least.”

Yoongi nods as she rolls her chair closer to the controls and starts layering the recording over the instrumentals. “Try starting it half a second after the beat,” he advises, watching as she nods and obliges. They listen to it in silence and she turns briefly to give him an appreciative nod.

“Sounds good.”

“Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Jesus, it’s eleven pm. Can you think how much sooner we could’ve had this track if we’d scheduled Minji to come in earlier?”

“Wouldn’t matter because Donghyuk is still going to take all night,” she reminds him, her eyes focused on the laptop screen.

“Yeah, but we could’ve had more time to experiment with the track.” He shakes his head. “Anyway. Lesson learnt. Minji is our secret weapon to get the talent out of Jungwon.”

To his surprise, Miso chuckles. “Is she ever.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“What?” When he doesn’t answer, Miso twists her shoulders to look at him. “Wait, are you serious?”

Yoongi starts to feel a familiar annoyance brewing at her superior tone but tries to keep it at bay, at least until they’re done with their work. He frowns mildly back at her, as though he doesn’t quite care what she’s getting at.

“Serious about what?”

“Minji, Min Suga. You think she inspired some hidden talent out of Jungwon? In the recording booth?” She chuckles again and turns back to the laptop. “Dude, they’re totally screwing.”

Yoongi stays frozen in his chair for a few moments while Miso continues mixing the track, with disjointed sounds emanating from the speakers every few seconds.

“Okay,” she says, sitting back slightly. “I think we have a rudimentary version at least for Donghyuk.”

“What do you mean they’re screwing?”

Miso turns around blankly, as though already having forgotten what they were talking about.

“They’re… having relations?” she ventures, before shrugging and going back to the laptop. “I don’t know, what do you think screwing means?”

“They’re - no.” Yoongi scoffs but it comes out more like a choke. “You have no way of knowing that.”

“Really? You think Minji tutored Jungwon out of the goodness of her heart?”

“Yes,” he says forcefully. “She debuted five years before him. And we all mentor our juniors.”

“And sometimes, some of you sleep with them, too.” Miso shakes her head, still adjusting the track. “What’s the big deal, anyway? It wouldn’t be the first time someone hooked up with a coworker.”

“Yeah, but -“ Yoongi breaks off, for she’s right, but he’d sooner dunk his laptop into a fountain than admit that to her. “I still don’t think so. They were singing a love song; they were meant to sound like they were in love.”

Miso snickers. “I didn’t say anything about love,” she reminds him wryly, before tilting her head at the screen. “Can we try adding a synth kind of sound in this segment here?”

“Uh, sure, go for it,” he says distractedly. “I think you’re wrong, though. I don’t think they’re hooking up.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t look at him. “I’m pretty sure they are. I could tell by the way they were looking at each other.”

Yoongi squints at her. “You could tell by a look?” he asks incredulously. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I am. That’s how I figured out my mother was sleeping with my twenty-two year old maths tutor.” When he doesn’t respond, she turns to him. “What?”

“You know, a lot of your stories would be more impactful with fewer details,” he informs her, just as the door to the studio opens and Jungwon and Minji enter, holding cups of coffee and looking fresh and energetic.

Yoongi chalks it down to caffeine. “Okay,” he exclaims, clapping his hands. “Are we ready to work on the track?” Without waiting for a response, he pulls the laptop to him and clicks on Miso’s completed version. “Listen carefully and tell me what you think,” he tells them.

“Sure,” says Minji, scooching a bit on the sofa so Jungwon can join her. “Hit it.”

Pointedly ignoring Miso’s knowing look, Yoongi plays the track. Both their voices flow out of the speakers, filling the recording booth for everyone to listen and provide their feedback. As the session goes on and Minji stops him here and there to give her inputs, Jungwon adds on to it, Yoongi discusses it and Miso silently observes and speaks only when spoken to, Yoongi feels his mood start to sour slightly.

An hour and forty minutes later, after several rounds of inputs and rough editing, Minji and Jungwon take their leave. With much more work in front of them, Yoongi watches them pack up a little sullenly, sighing deeply when the door closes.

“I hate this,” he mutters, before dropping his head back and groaning.

“Why?” Miso frowns. “That was actually productive. Minji had some good thoughts.”

“No, I hate that - that you’re right,” he says tightly, before sighing again. “They’re definitely hooking up.”

It takes her a moment to realise what he’s said and she laughs quietly. “What convinced you?”

“Just… the way they were around each other. He’s hanging on to her every word,” he adds, disgruntled. 

“Yeah, it’s nauseating to watch. But she’s making him more of a collaborator than just a puppet who sings,” she points out fairly.

Yoongi glances sideways at Miso, the irony of this statement not lost on him. 

“What?”

“You weren’t much of a collaborator right now, if we’re really going there.”

Miso stares at him, her face betraying nothing. “What are you talking about?”

“Please,” he mutters, turning back to his laptop but not really looking at anything. “You said maybe five words that whole session.”

“I was taking notes. And I’ll be translating every single one of them into edits. The good ones anyway,” she adds wryly.

“That’s not what I mean,” he says, more patiently than he feels, for not only is this his job, it might just be the hardest part of his job. 

She swivels her chair around to face him. “What do you mean, Min Suga?”

He doesn’t take the bait. “There’s more to being a producer than just mixing good tracks. You’re the creator of the song - you’re literally producing it. Collaborating with the artists is part of that process.”

Miso’s eyes flicker and she looks down at her lap, her jaw hardening slightly. “Is it so hard for you to pay me a compliment without tacking on a bunch of things I’m doing wrong?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “What?”

“You can just say my track was good. It won’t kill you.”

It might, he thinks. “Fine. Your track was good,” he admits honestly. “It was like something I would’ve made a few years into my role as a producer. You have an experimental mindset.”

She looks a little taken aback, as though she hadn’t quite expected him to be so blunt about it. The corner of her mouth twitches and she looks at her lap again before looking up. 

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“Jesus. No.”

She pauses before nodding stiffly. “Thank you,” she says nonchalantly, turning her chair back around to face the laptop.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows, staring at her side profile. Her skin, already pale, looks translucent under the white light from the recording booth. He sees her glance at him out of the corner of her eye.

“And… point taken on the other thing.”

It’s as good as it’s going to get, he decides. He shifts in his chair to get into a more comfortable position as she starts editing the music. 

“We’re going to have to bring in Jungwon to redo this whole section,” states Yoongi a little while later, shaking his head at the same fifteen second segment they’ve been playing over and over again. “He sounds like he’s drugged.”

Miso chortles. “You may have to bring in his girlfriend, too, if you want anything useful to come out of him.”

He clicks his tongue in disgust. “Don’t remind me.”

“Oh, lighten up. They’re young, they’re working all the time,” she reasons. “It’s natural.”

“It’s unprofessional.”

“Really? You’ve never hooked up with a coworker?” she asks sceptically.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I haven’t. Not as a senior and definitely not as a rookie,” he adds, shaking his head. “He needs to focus on his work.”

Miso frowns. “Weren’t you the one that was on my case a little while ago about being too hard on him? And now you’re doing a one-eighty over something that, honestly, is none of your business.”

“How is it not my business?” he argues. “He’s underperforming unless she’s around, they took two very unnecessary breaks in the middle of our editing session, and they left before actually listening to the finished version,” he lists, holding up his fingers. “This is Jungwon’s first solo, in his first year of debut. It’s ridiculous.”

Yoongi can sense her curiosity at his outburst and he wishes he’d kept his mouth shut. But it’s late, the food they’ve ordered is still on its way, and Donghyuk doesn’t seem to be any closer to finishing his arrangement so they can call it a night.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little uptight?”

He bristles. “No. I don’t. But I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Oh, of course not, because I have no concept of professionalism,” she says sarcastically. “Let me just add that to the list of things I lack.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Way to make this about you.”

“Aren’t you making Jungwon’s personal life about you?”

He flushes again but rallies, giving her an extremely unimpressed look. “Everybody’s entitled to a personal life. Just don’t mix it with a professional one.”

“Interesting,” she says, finally leaning away from the laptop and he feels an instant sense of foreboding. “That lady from Marketing that we had a meeting with today, Seulgi - isn’t she dating an idol? I’m pretty sure I know his name,” she says, frowning deeply and snapping her fingers, pretending to remember before her forehead clears. “But I definitely know what group he’s in.”

A faint smirk flashes across her face, and Yoongi finds it insufferable. “Seokjin and Seulgi don’t actually work together. And his dating life is none of my business.”

“But wouldn’t that make you a hypocrite? What?” she asks when he groans loudly. “Afraid you’re losing an argument?”

“No,” he states forcefully, glaring at her. “I’m just pissed that it becomes an argument! Why can’t a conversation with you ever be easy? Why can’t it just be a conversation instead of turning into a fucking argument every time?”

“It takes two to turn something into an argument,” she points out, her eyes narrowed.

“Sure. But all due respect,” he caveats, “and no offence - I still have friends and allies in this company who are capable of small talk without constantly exerting their brains and superiority, which leads me to believe that you might be the problem here. And you know what?” he continues, cutting her off. “If I’m that argumentative, why don’t you just switch to another producer?”

“Because I got assigned to you, Min Suga,” she retorts. “That’s how it works. And as long as we’re talking about friends and allies - has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want friends who can’t make small talk without exerting their brains?” She huffs and turns back to the laptop. “It might explain why you’re the only person here I actually talk to.”

“Oh, that’s by choice?”

“Shocking, isn’t it?” When Yoongi doesn’t respond, she lets out a half-chuckle without humour. “What? Nothing to say to that?”

“No,” he answers, a little uncomfortable at this sudden change in direction. “Except… well, this might be the first compliment you’ve ever paid me.”

“Yeah, well, don’t go throwing any parades about it.”

A terse silence follows, broken only by the sound of the laptop keys and the random clips from the song. Yoongi glances at her with a mixture of confusion, inadequacy and frustration, her lips pursed and her eyes darting around the screen. The navy blue sleeves of her long-sleeved t-shirt almost reach her knuckles, her wrists thin and fragile against the table. 

Yoongi wonders how she’s surviving wearing it despite the heat in the studio, especially with a grey t-shirt over it, unless it’s her way of winning one over the heat.

He decides to chalk down this awkward end to their conversation to hunger. Still, it feels odd not to reciprocate it. He clears his throat, noting how the sound doesn’t make her flinch at all.

“You are not… unintelligent,” he ventures cautiously.

“I know that,” she replies casually, and Yoongi gives up. They continue working in silence for a few minutes, the silence still awkward but less tense. Something continues to bother him, though, their dialogue having come to a rather abrupt and unsatisfying end.

“I don’t actually care if they’re hooking up,” he says after a moment, in a low voice. “You’re right; it’s none of my business.”

Miso doesn’t respond, but spares him the briefest of glances, which tells him she’s listening.

“I was living paycheck to paycheck,” he murmurs, biting his lip. “I was delivering food and battling privileged rappers wearing designer crap at night to make money. Then I started training and the company I was training with had no money. Me and the guys, including Seulgi’s boyfriend, worked our arses off to debut and grow the company…” 

Yoongi trails off when the silence suddenly feels a little louder, and he realises he can no longer hear the keyboard of the laptop.

“Anyway,” he says flatly. “Call me conceited but I’m attached to this company. I feel I was part of building it and I feel like I’m a part of growing it. I don’t like people getting in the way of that,” he finishes in a murmur, a little embarrassed at his confession.

Miso doesn’t respond immediately, eventually exhaling softly. “You could’ve just told me that. You wouldn’t have had to exert your brain at all.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

—

“Nari, hang on a minute.”

For a moment, Seokjin thinks she’s going to ignore him, but at the last moment she slowly halts just outside his front door. Jason, a few paces ahead of her, also stops, but something on Seokjin’s face seems to tip him off about what’s coming and he clears his throat.

“I’ll go bring the car around,” he tells Nari, before turning to him. “Thanks for having us over. Dinner was great.”

“Thanks. Glad you could make it.” They shake hands and Jason leaves. Seokjin waits until the elevator door closes before turning to Nari, but she beats him to it.

“Are you?” she asks wryly. “Glad he could make it?”

“Yes,” he answers honestly, not elaborating, for Jason remained the least stressful person all night, himself included. But he doesn’t feel the need to explain this to her. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, arms folded across her chest, and Seokjin pauses. There is a lot he wants to say but he needs to play this just right, or it can go down an unnecessary rabbit hole he’s not sure he has the energy for right now.

“Nari,” he begins, then pauses again. “Do you… do you have something you want to say to me?” 

He tries his best to make it sound as less confrontational as he can, keeping his voice calm, hearing the genuine underlying desperation that he didn’t even need to consciously add. By the way Nari’s eyes flicker slightly, he can tell she’s caught it, too.

She hitches her handbag higher on her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “Anything you want to say. Anything you want to ask. Anything you want to talk about, or - or clear up…” He purses his lip. “I can still tell when you’re upset. And I don’t want you to be.”

“I’m not upset,” she says automatically. “And it isn’t your problem, even if I am.”

Seokjin bites his lip and nods slowly. “You’re not upset,” he repeats for confirmation.

“No. Do I have any reason to be?”

“I don’t know. But if you’re not, then I don’t understand why you’ve been so annoyed all night,” he points out. “You barely spoke, you barely ate, you didn’t even touch the dessert that Seulgi brought -”

“I’m sorry if I hurt her feelings by not eating the store-bought dessert she picked up on her way back from work.”

Something jolts in Seokjin’s heart; for a moment, the woman in front of him is unrecognisable as Nari. “She was trying to be nice,” he says softly but firmly. “She’s been nice to you all night but you haven’t returned any of it.”

Nari scoffs. “She wasn’t being nice. She was reminding me - very subtly, I might add - where she stands and where I stand.”

He blinks. “I’m sorry - what? What does any of that mean?”

“She’s your girlfriend,” she explains slowly, like she’s doing so to a child, “and I’m not. I am a girl, though. But she’s your girlfriend. And she was reminding me of that. Not at first,” she admits. “But during dinner? And especially after dessert? That’s what she  was doing.”

Seokjin finds himself lost for words. The fact that the tension hit an all-time high after dessert is beyond dispute; everyone apart from Jason seemed to have given up any semblance of remaining diplomacy, with sentences becoming shorter and words getting more clipped, until a stretch of three-minute silence passed and Jason suggested he and Nari make a move.

Seulgi had definitely run out of patience by this point, choosing to speak much more sparingly. There were uncomfortable silences and lingering looks and sideways glances, all in response to statements that seemed completely innocuous. But he can’t imagine he would’ve missed something this blatant.

Suddenly feeling terribly tired, he shakes his head. “She wasn’t - I mean, why would she do that?”

Nari observes him for a moment, as though trying to work out whether he’s faking ignorance. Finally, she shrugs. “I don’t know. But I know women better than you do.”

Seokjin senses this discussion is getting away from him. “I - okay. Honestly, I have no idea what to say to that. I thought she was just being nice - and you admitted it, too, that she was being nice in the beginning.”

“I guess.”

“But you weren’t being nice to her at all,” he points out. “Can you blame her for giving up eventually? She was being welcoming because she knows you’re my best friend,” he says, noting the shadow that crosses her face at those words. “But you gave her nothing. Why? What did she ever do to you?”

Nari looks at the ground again and taps the toe of her shoe on the ground, and for a moment Seokjin wonders if he’s made a breakthrough. “Nothing, I suppose,” she admits in a small voice. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be taking it out on her.”

Seokjin almost sighs in relief; now they’re getting somewhere. “Taking what out on her? Nari, are you angry with me? If you are, just tell me. We’ll talk about it, fight about it -” He breaks off, shaking his head. “I’m sorry about the night of the fundraiser. I really am - I should’ve called or - or -”

She’s looking up at him now and it’s impossible to decipher what she’s thinking. Seokjin is faced with the sudden urge to hold her by the shoulders and make her continue meeting his gaze. He slips his hands into his pockets for good measure.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “But… come on, if you’re angry about something, is this really the way to go about it? Passive-aggressive digs at dinner?”

Nari shakes her head, a bit disbelieving. “Did you really think a dinner would solve all our problems?”

“I’m not even sure what our problems are!” he exclaims in frustration. “That’s why I wanted to talk about them! And for the record, I didn’t think a single dinner would solve anything, but I thought it would be a good start. I thought we could make it through one night - or at very least, fake it like grown ups,” he mutters, disappointed in everything, including himself.

She swallows and takes a step back, and it feels like a chasm. “Guess I’m not grown up enough for that yet,” she says finally, meeting his gaze with seeming difficulty. “But I’m glad you found someone who is.”

“Don’t make this about her.” He tries to firm but it sounds more pleading than anything. “If you have a problem with me, tell me. Or there’s no point to any of this.”

“That’s the thing, though,” she says, and there’s an air of finality to it. “There’s no point talking about the problem because it’s not going to change anything.”

Seokjin has nothing to say to that. Instead, he watches Nari turn around and leave, his heart sinking.

Nari doesn’t stop until she’s out of the building and inside Jason’s car. He’s parked across the street, tactfully keeping his distance, no doubt due to the heart-to-heart he thinks she’s having with her best friend.

Best friend. The words feel like rote; she doesn’t know if they’re quite true right now, but she knows for sure that they’re not untrue. It’s both sad and comforting.

“Everything okay?” Jason asks lightly as she straps herself in.

“Totally,” she mutters, busying herself with the buckle, her hair covering most of her face. “Are you going back to the hospital?”

“Well, no one’s called me. I was thinking about taking advantage of it,” he tells her. “Stay in. Catch up on some sleep.” He starts the car. “Do you want to head back or pick some ice cream on the way? You didn’t eat dessert,” he reminds her, his tone still light.

Nari nods absently. It’s starting to drizzle slightly; just a light spray, not even enough to warrant the wipers. She glances up at Seokjin’s building, at the lights in the apartments on the top floor. 

She’s not sure if one of them is his, or if his apartment even faces this side of the street. But she pictures him anyway, silent and annoyed at her, cleaning up his kitchen along with Seulgi. 

Her throat burns a little and she recognises the onset of her emotions finally creeping up on her - starting with shame.

She can’t afford it, though. There’s only one thing she does when this happens, when she’s overwhelmed, when it’s all just too much. There’s only one place she goes, one place she’s ever gone. But that place is no longer available to her.

Swallowing everything before it has a chance to hit the surface, she turns to Jason.

“Actually,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear, “can we go back to your place?”

—

Seokjin trudges back into his apartment once it’s clear Nari isn’t coming back. He’s not sure what he was hoping for; perhaps a change of heart, or her annoyance getting the better of her - anything to move this painful stalemate along.

He rubs his eyes and heads to the dining area to help Seulgi, who’s putting the wine away.

“That went well,” he says tiredly, leaning backwards against the table. He needs sleep.

“Didn’t it?” Seulgi mutters in reply.

Seokjin frowns a little belatedly, wondering if he’s imagining the bite in her response. He tries again. “Do you need some help?”

“I got it.”

“Okay, hang on,” he says, unable to believe it. “Are you angry with me, too?”

She starts folding the placemats, not meeting his gaze. “Why would you say that?”

He scoffs loudly. “Seriously? How did I manage to piss both of you off tonight?”

Seulgi chucks an unfolded placemat on the table and finally looks up at him, glaring with a hand on her hip. “Not that I don’t love being lumped together with your… ex… sex friend, but I was doing my best.”

“I know! That’s what I was -”

“But you ambushed me!” she interrupts, looking upset. “With your - with all your history together. You told me about it in the middle of dinner with her - God, Seokjin, what the hell was that?”

“What are you talking about?” he exclaims. “I told you we hooked up, before I ever invited her to dinner.”

“Yeah, and the way you said it made it sound like you made out once when you were twenty,” she snaps. “Not that it was happening recently enough for it to still be awkward. Not to mention a pregnancy scare that happened less than a year ago?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Seulgi opens her mouth but then closes it, as though unable to decide what to say. Eventually she closes her eyes and turns away slightly.

“I’m sorry if you felt ambushed,” he ventures uneasily. “But that wasn’t my intention. I just didn’t want to get into something that wasn’t relevant to this -“

“But how is it not relevant?” she interrupts him again. “She’s your lifelong best friend, but not a completely platonic one. And then you invite her over, she’s totally weird with me the whole time, and that’s when you choose to tell me you guys slept together? Of course I felt ambushed, Seokjin! And then I got defensive and - God, I was such a bitch,” she mutters, dropping her face into her hands.

This is unexpected. “Wait, what? No, you weren’t.”

“Yes, I was. Towards the end, I totally was,” she insists. “I was taken off guard, I was on edge and I went into fight or flight mode. Or… girlfriend-faced-with-boyfriend’s-ex-fling mode,” she finishes, shaking her head and looking embarrassed.

Seokjin wracks his brain, wondering if two glasses of wine were possibly enough for him to not notice something both Nari and Seulgi seemed to have observed and reacted to.

“She was never a fling,” he says weakly, but Seulgi doesn’t even seem to hear him.

“And then you tell me there was a pregnancy scare,” she continues after a moment. “In the middle of dinner, just when we’re -“

“What is it with you and the pregnancy scare?” he exclaims in frustration. “It was eighteen hours of tension and that’s it! It lasted less time than a flu!”

“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “What did you do when you thought she was pregnant?”

“I freaked out,” he says immediately. “A lot.”

“That’s not - okay, what did you say to her when you thought she was pregnant?” Seulgi amends, sounding as though it’s taking everything in her to remain patient.

“I…” Seokjin hesitates; this isn’t a situation he wants to relive. “I told her I’d be there for her. Of course I did, Seulgi,” he says quickly when she doesn’t respond. “It was the decent thing to do - you can’t be mad at me for trying to be a good guy.”

But Seulgi shakes her head slightly, and it’s clear that this isn’t her problem. She isn’t meeting his eyes; her gaze is somewhere near his elbow. 

“You can’t… intend honestly to be there for her for the rest of her life,” she begins slowly, as though choosing every word carefully, “and then the next day, just… not feel that anymore.”

There’s a few moments of silence while Seokjin processes this. He can’t fathom how this evening got so far away from him, and he has absolutely no idea where it can possibly end.

“Look, that situation was… it was very stressful, okay? For both of us,” he explains, taking a step closer. “I don’t - I don’t know what I’m supposed to have done. I did mean what I said to her then. But it doesn’t have a bearing on how I feel now, for you.”

Seulgi gives him a small nod, still not looking at him.

“I know it’s awkward between Nari and me now and - and I need to figure that out. But if you’re worried that there’s something going on with us - there isn’t.”

She exhales and after what feels like many, many moment, she drags her gaze to meet his. “She’s your best friend,” she states softly.

“Yeah. And you’re my girlfriend.”

“That… doesn’t matter,” she mutters under her breath, shaking her head and looking at the floor again. He’s sure he wasn’t meant to hear that but he did, and his heart sinks. “Not in the way that you think,” she adds, slightly louder now.

Seokjin has no response to this. He feels exhausted, cornered and frustrated all at once and he sighs, rubbing his eyes and leaning backwards against a chair.

“I can’t change the past, Seulgi,” he says tiredly. “I don’t know what you want me to do right now.”

“Nothing,” she answers, sounding slightly surprised at this question. “I know you can’t change anything. I just wish you’d told me,” she says after a moment. “Before I sat down to dinner with her.”

He nods, but words of apology don’t come to him at the moment. “Can we just head to - where are you going?” He follows her to the living room where she picks up her handbag, the designer logo glinting dimly. 

“I’m going back to my apartment,” she murmurs, shuffling past him to get to her shoes: sleek high heels. Even after a whole day, she looks perfectly presentable, as though ready for a meeting. 

“I thought -“ But Seokjin doesn’t finish the sentence.

“I know,” she murmurs, sounding a bit apologetic for the first time. “But I just need to… I need to go home. Take a shower, go to bed.”

He nods silently, placing his hands on his hips and looking at the ground. He’s suddenly aware of how huge his apartment is for one person only.

“The bulgogi was great,” she says after a moment. She waits until he glances at her, nodding once more. When he doesn’t say anything, she turns around and opens the door, stepping out and leaving him alone.

—

When the elevator pings and the doors open, there’s a moment when neither of them make a move to enter first. Yoongi opens his mouth but Miso beats him to it.

“Don’t say ‘ladies first’,” she warns him.

He freezes before rolling his eyes. “I was going to say ‘elders first’,” he says, a little smug. He expects her to take offence but she chuckles instead, sounding a bit surprised.

“You don’t care a jot that I’m older than you,” she says dryly, stepping in with him right behind her, and pressing the button.

“On the contrary.” Yoongi leans against the back of the elevator as the doors close. “You’re the one who told me on your first day that under no circumstances was I to call you noona.”

“I also didn’t ask you to call me Miso.”

“No, you asked me to call you Chanel,” he remembers, a little wondrously. It feels a little strange to believe that was less than a year ago; it feels like forever that she’s been in his orbit, the frequent and regular dose of unexpected conflict he never asked for.

“That’s right, Min Suga.”

“You still want to be credited as Kang Chanel?”

“Just Chanel. No Kang.”

Yoongi nods as the elevator begins moving smoothly. They don’t say anything for a few seconds, standing a couple of feet away from each other. Miso isn’t leaning, though; she’s slouching slightly, and her bony shoulders are visible through her t-shirt. A jacket hangs on the strap of her bag, the Burberry tag visibly at the back of the neck.

“Will I -” She stops abruptly. She turns slightly to look at him, a bit nervously before looking back ahead. “Are you sure I’ll be credited?”

Yoongi frowns. “Why wouldn’t you?”

She shrugs nonchalantly, but her slender fingers tighten around the strap of her bag. “You know. In case there’s a conflict of interest or something?”

“Right.” His eyes flicker to the designer tag on her hoodie again. It was on the sofa in the studio, he remembers, discarded casually with her bag placed on top of it. He watches her run a hand through her shoulder-length hair, not even seeming like she cares about the answer.

“Your dad’s a shareholder,” he says. She doesn’t turn, but he notices her stiffen, her dark eyes darting in his direction. “And you’re an employee of the same company. There’s no conflict of interest. It doesn’t matter how you got the job,” he adds after a moment.

Miso simply nods and says nothing. Yoongi tries to look away, but he can’t. There’s something different in the way she asked him that question, something almost doubtful, or hesitant. It makes him uncomfortable, the feeling of his resentment and annoyance with her wavering. It feels as though she’s disturbed the dynamic, and this is not a side of her he wanted revealed ever.

All of a sudden, the elevator jerks and the lights flicker before turning off, leaving them in pitch darkness.

“What the hell -”

“Don’t panic.” Yoongi hears himself say the words without realising it. He feels a movement next to him and immediately reaches out and grabs something, hearing her gasp just as the lights flicker back on. He notices his fingers grasping her forearm and lets go at once, feeling his face heat up.

Just as abruptly as the elevator had stopped, it begins descending again, quiet and smooth. Yoongi can hear his heartbeat in his teeth but he isn’t sure why; darkness has never been something that scared him. 

“Oh, the button -” Miso points at the pane, where all the buttons seem to have reset when the power went out. Both of them reach for it together and when Yoongi retrieves his hand, he feels a tug and realises the edge of her sleeve has caught on his watch.

“Sorry, I’ll just -”

“No, it’s okay -”

She tugs her hand back the same moment that he slips his watch out of the loose thread it’s stuck on and in the split second that her sleeve gets pulled back, Yoongi catches a glimpse of something on her wrist before she pushes it back down.

It’s only a flash but it stands out against her pale skin, a discoloured mark of some kind. For a moment he thinks it could be a bracelet, but there’s no indent visible through her sleeve.

“Donghyuk really came through, huh?” Miso says, but it sounds slightly forced.

Yoongi hesitates but then clears his throat. “Yeah. This way we get the entire morning off. We don’t need to be in by… two, at least.”

“Are you sure? I can come earlier, too, if you want. Maybe Donghyuk could use the help.”

“He’ll manage. Take the time,” he suggests, stretching his neck. “Rejuvenate.”

She waves a hand. “Overrated. I really don’t mind, though.”

“Noted. But Donghyuk will be fine.”

“I’m just saying -”

“My God, I have literally never had to convince anybody this hard to take a day off,” he interrupts, the tiredness of the day finally catching up to him. “Can’t you just…?”

“Fine. Just offering.”

The elevator doors open and Yoongi waits a moment for her to step out before following her. They head out outside the building into the chilly air; he exhales and wonders if he can risk a cigarette right now.

“Don’t.” Miso’s voice almost blends in with the wind. She’s giving him a knowing look while pulling on her hoodie, her bag placed on the ground by her feet. “You almost got caught smoking outside once.”

He really hates it when she’s right. “It’s one-thirty in the morning,” he argues instead.

She shrugs. “Your call. But if you smoke, you’ll have to share.”

“I don’t mind sharing.” As if to prove it, he slips his pack out of his pocket and offers one to her along with the lighter. They light their cigarettes one by one and smoke in silence, in a rare moment of peace together.

He notices the cigarette in between her long, pale fingers. The sleeves of her t-shirt and hoodie cover her knuckles, making the remaining part of her hand look white against the dark hoodie. 

“Good work today,” he says after a minute, when he’s almost done with his cigarette. 

The muscles in Miso’s face seem to relax a bit, but she still doesn’t smile.

“You’re giving me a compliment?”

“Only if you take it without a fuss.”

“Such a low opinion of me,” she laments, dropping the butt of her cigarette on the ground and crushing it. She looks up to see Yoongi raising his eyebrows and holds his gaze for a moment before picking up the stub and throwing it in a bin behind her.

“By the way,” she begins, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “that thing I told you about my mom earlier? I was - I was joking. You know that right?”

Yoongi struggles for a moment to remember what she’s talking about, rewinding the night back to their argument about Jungwon and Minji. His gaze locks on her slowly once he remembers, but he makes no other motion.

“I mean… I made that up. To make a point.” She bites her lip before shrugging. “It’s just… she’s a socialite and the last thing I need is for some false rumour about her to start spreading.” She crosses her arms across her chest.

He doesn’t respond for a few moments but eventually nods. “M-hm.” He waits until she looks away before putting out his stub and throwing it in the same bin.

They step out of the courtyard after that and out of the Big Hit gates, the air cold and the streets deserted. Yoongi shivers slightly and spots his car in the building parking lot next door. 

“Well… goodnight, then.” Miso loosens her fingers from the strap of her bag in a gesture of farewell and turns around when Yoongi remembers something.

“Do you need a ride home?”

She turns around, looking far more surprised than he thinks is necessary. “Um… no. Why?”

He shrugs, thinking privately that he’s never quite had to justify this question to a girl before. “It’s the middle of the night? And I know where you live.”

“Oh.” She pauses but then shakes her head. “That’s okay, though. Thanks.”

Yoongi doesn’t know what possesses him to ask again. “Are you sure? My car isn’t a limited edition Range Rover; it’s just a regular Range Rover, but it’s not bad.”

Miso cracks a smile and it takes him a bit by surprise. “Thanks, but… my car is here.” She points with her hand in a pocket of her hoodie to the handful of cars parked at the end of the street. To be sure, he spots a sleek black hood, rather similar to his own, at the beginning of the row.

“You called your driver at one-thirty?” He tries to keep the judgement out of his voice. “Wait, when did you even call him?”

“I didn’t. He’s been here since nine pm.” She looks away awkwardly, presumably guessing where his mind is at. 

“He’s been here almost five hours?”

“Yeah.” Her eyes flicker up to meet his. “My dad… prefers to know my whereabouts,” she confesses slowly. “So the car waits for as long as I need.”

The wind seems louder somehow. Yoongi brings up Kang Jaesung’s face in his mind from months ago, in the midst of suited men in a lounge in his sprawling mansion, scotch in hand and a sharp, chiselled face. He glances at the limited edition Range Rover again, noting the tinted windows this time.

“Anyway.” Miso breaks the silence. “Goodnight, Min Suga.”

“Yeah,” he mutters as she walks away. He waits until her driver opens the door for her, she steps in and the car drives away, before turning around and heading to the parking lot.

—

Yoongi reaches the dorm at five minutes past two. There’s silence when he opens the front door, which he appreciates, but when he enters the living room he sees he’s not alone.

“Darkness, please.” Seokjin groans, muffled by a cushion on his face, lying along the length of the sofa with one leg dangling off.

“Jesus,” mutters Yoongi, a bit startled. “Hyung, what - what are you doing?”

Seokjin groans again and slowly sits up, wincing like an old man before slouching again and closing his eyes. “Isn’t it obvious, Yoongi?” He gestures vaguely at his surroundings, including an almost empty bottle of wine on the centre table. When Yoongi simply shrugs, he clicks his tongue impatiently. “I’m wallowing.”

Yoongi nods after a moment, dropping his bag on a chair and joining him on the sofa. “How’s it going?”

“Not bad.” Seokjin pauses. “You look happy.”

He stares. “I do?”

“Well, satisfied,” amends Seokjin. “Like you do when you’ve made some significant progress.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess I did. What about you?” He changes the subject. “I thought you had some big night planned at your place.”

Seokjin scoffs but it comes out more like a choke. “Oh, yeah. My best friend and my girlfriend are both mad at me for opposite reasons. And also sort of the same reason,” he adds, frowning. “Who knows right now. Anyway, it was too depressing staying there tonight. And the kids and I have a shoot tomorrow morning anyway, so…” He shakes his head and falls silent.

Yoongi nods, knowing he’s not required to say anything. 

A few moments later, Seokjin speaks again. “I brought some bulgogi and japchae. It’s in the kitchen.”

Not needing to be told twice, Yoongi immediately makes a beeline for the kitchen and returns a few minutes later with a microwaved plate of food and two sets of chopsticks. “I’m good,” mutters Seokjin, waving a hand when Yoongi offers him some.

They don’t speak again until after he’s done eating, wolfing down the food with scarcely a breath in between.

“Wow,” comments Seokjin. “It wasn’t that good.”

“Guess I was hungrier than I thought,” he replies, placing the plate on the coffee table and leaning back on the sofa, closing his eyes and sighing contentedly. “Thanks, hyung.”

“You’re welcome.” 

There’s a few more moments of comfortable silence. Yoongi considers asking Seokjin if he wants to talk but stops himself, knowing he will if he wants to. 

“Did you finish the track then?”

Eyes still closed, he raises his eyebrows. “No, not yet. Donghyuk’s going to mix the final version and we’ll check it out tomorrow.”

“You haven’t finished it?” Seokjin sounds confused. “I thought you said you’d made progress.”

It takes Yoongi a moment to realise what he’s talking about. “Oh… I did. It got a lot farther than I anticipated. It’s been a while since I’ve worked with a rookie,” he says, and Seokjin nods knowingly. “But I think Miso and I got most of it done.”

“Kang Miso.” Seokjin half-chuckles. “I heard she gave Seulgi a bit of a hard time today.”

“Sorry about that,” he says automatically, wondering a moment later why he’s apologising on her behalf but then remembering she is his assistant producer. “She can be a bit of a pill. But I think we’re coming to a middle ground of sorts, hopefully.”

“Sounds like progress to me. Quite the opposite of my night.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond, his thoughts drifting. Miso’s face right before she’d left swims to the forefront of his mind. Thin and pale, with the thick open hoodie engulfing her, there was something that had changed in her body language. He’d thought about it the whole drive, unable to put his finger on it. 

He thinks about the flash of colour he’d seen on her wrist, her strangely uncomfortable way of asking if she would be credited on the song she’d worked on with him every step of the way.

Something clicks but he isn’t sure what it is. Maybe it’s progress, but he doesn’t overthink it. Reaching for his phone automatically, he opens their chat and types on instinct.

Min Yoongi [02:25] Just remembered. Need to create a demo for the remixes. Should start ASAP - studio, 10 am tomorrow.

Her response comes a short while later, just as Yoongi is getting ready for bed.

Kang Chanel [02:40] As you command, Min Suga. See you then.

—

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