#I had a specific joke in mind but I’m genuinely falling asleep so rip

[mvncesa]

I’m passing out but julian will fight @luteblooms in a park when I wake up

[songbirdsingingthings]

Common Sense - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

A/N: So I got this idea, ran with it, and then somehow 3,000+ words came out of it. Honestly, I’m kinda really proud with how it turned out and I hope y’all like it too.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3.1K

If there was ever a phrase that Shouto Todoroki hated, it would be ‘common sense’. What a weird phrase, he would think, because the use of common sense implies that it’s something that everyone should know, but in most cases, he didn’t. Unfortunately, that phrase left the lips of his friends quite often. He knows they mean no harm or ill will towards him, he was sure they would stop using the term if he ever mentioned how he felt about it, but he didn’t want to make them feel uncomfortable. The first time it started to get on his nerves was when he, Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka were at the mall on a rare weekday off.

“Wow, hey, look at that!” Uraraka had exclaimed, running as quickly as her feet could carry her over to a newly implemented little wishing well that had been placed in a small corner of the outdoor mall. Midoriya and Iida quickly followed her, but Shouto hung back.

“C’mon Todoroki, let’s go make a wish!” Midoriya urged, beckoning him over with a wave of his hand. Shouto followed him, albeit a little confused, over to the well.

“Does anybody have a quarter I could use? I forgot to bring change with me, I only have bills in my wallet.” Uraraka blushed, her expression a bit embarrassed.

“Of course!” Iida said, fishing two quarters out of his billfold, handing one to Uraraka and keeping the other for himself. Todoroki watched his three friends close their eyes and then flip their coins into the well, taking note at how they sank slowly into the water.

“Todoroki, aren’t you going to make a wish?” Midoriya questioned, a patient smile on his lips. The expression of confusion remained on Shouto’s face.

“What merit do coins have on wishes?” He asked, genuinely curious as to why his friends would technically throw away money in turn for a wish that would most likely be out of their reach or unrealistic. “Also, aren’t we using money to pay for things within the stores here? I thought that you were saving up for that new jacket, Uraraka.” He wondered, turning to look at the pink-cheeked girl. She just smiled and shook her head.

“Todoroki, a small little coin wouldn’t have much effect on my savings. Besides, it’s kinda common sense to enjoy the little things like this and not pay too much mind, right?” Iida and Midoriya nodded enthusiastically, nudging the red-and-white haired boy closer to the water-filled wishing well. He sighed and thought over Uraraka’s words. It’s kinda common sense to enjoy the little things? He thought as a quarter was forcibly put in his hands. He closed his eyes to humor his friends and dropped the coin in the well. He was then afterward given smiles and some reassuring pats, and as much as he knew his friends were making efforts to include him, he couldn’t help but feel a bit… coddled. He knew that as a child he was always shielded from the world, but was he really kept away from this much? Was he seriously hidden from such superficial subjects? He tried to ward away those questions that poked and prodded at his brain, but he couldn’t seem to shrug them off as he observed his friends dart in and out of multiple stores with shopping bags in their hands. Shouto ended up bringing nothing back to the dorm with him, except for a sudden slight contempt for a tiny little phrase.

The next circumstance was when he and Bakugou were at the remedial lessons. While Shouto wasn’t incredibly enthused about going through extra lessons in order to gain his provisional license, he understood why he needed to go and appreciated the effort and lengths that the teachers went to so that he could have another chance. Well, he, Bakugou, Inasa and a girl who just introduced herself as Camie to him and the explosive-quirked boy.

“So, who’s this smoldery looking two-toned boy?” She had chirped, her hand clutching the brim of her Shiketsu high cap. “You’re, like, super hot. I’m crazy siked to train with a babe like you!” Even Shouto had to admit to himself that this girl was coming onto him really strong - and not exactly in the most flattering way possible. She greeted Inasa briefly, but then dug into her pocket to grab her phone, holding it out in front of Shouto. “Seriously, can I, like, have your number?” Hesitantly, Shouto responded.

“Uhh, sure.” He replied, but made no effort to grab his own phone that was safely tucked away in his blazer pocket. He found her interactions with others to be quite shallow in the way that she really gave no information about herself. Camie tended to project more onto others, he figured. As he and Bakugou walked to the changing room specifically set aside for UA students, Shouto noticed the look of disapproval on the blonde’s face. Shouto just quirked an eyebrow at him, knowing that he didn’t need a vocal cue to get Bakugou to start talking.

“You seriously agreed to give your number to that chick at the drop of the hat? Do you not have any standards, Icyhot?” He growled, Bakugou’s signature scowl now adorning face. 

“What do you mean? I just assumed she would need it in case of emergencies.” Shouto explained. With a roll of his eyes and a look that conveyed Bakugou wanted to rip his own hair out, the blonde glared at him.

“YOU DON’T JUST GIVE A NUMBER TO A GIRL YOU JUST MET! GET TO KNOW HER OR SOMETHING YOU HALF-AND-HALF BASTARD! IT’S JUST COMMON SENSE!” Shouto was used to Bakugou’s outbursts and never took any of what he said personally, but now that was the second time the phrase common sense was used at his expense… and it irked him. Shouto’s eyes narrowed as he watched Bakugou trudge and stomp his way through the door and into the changing room. And, not unlike the first time he heard it, the saying ‘common sense’ left a foul taste in his mouth.

Finally, the most recent time he heard it, was from the person he probably despised the most. His own father. Shouto was visiting his home - which happened rarely and the time he spent there was brief - to speak with and catch up with his sister, Fuyumi. Unfortunately, just as he was about to leave, the number two Pro-Hero walked through the door.

“Shouto, you’re home!” He bellowed, a grin plastered under his flaming mustache. Shouto frowned and narrowed his eyes as he navigated around the stocky man, making his way out of the door. He adjusted the strap of his shoulder bag after it was jostled by unintentionally brushing roughly past his father, but a heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him in his tracks. With narrowed eyes and a frown-turned-grimace on his face, he turned around to face the fire-quirked man.

“Do you have something to say or will you let me be on my way?” Shouto glared, making Endeavor bristle.

“Yes, Shouto, I have something to say indeed!” The flames on his body seemed to grow larger, proving another example of a concept Shouto recently learned in class: direct variation. “You haven’t bothered to return any of my calls or my text messages to you regarding personal training! It’s no wonder you didn’t pass your provisional licensing exam!” Flames emitted from his father’s body out of rage, and as much as Shouto tried not to let it out, a small wisp left his left side.

“I’m not interested, and I’ve told you as such.” Shouto grits out, resuming his previous pathing of making his way out of his childhood home. 

“You respond to your father when he reaches out to you! IT IS COMMON SENSE!” Endeavor shouts, causing Shouto’s body to go rigid. He clenches his jaw and twists around. His father saying that hated term was the last straw for him.

“IT IS NOT COMMON SENSE IN RELATION TO YOU!” Shouto barks out, frost and flames growing on their respective sides. And, with that, Shouto finally leaves the metal gates of his home, slamming them behind himself as he left. He cringed a bit at the loud clanging noise it left behind, but he was too furious to really care. He did feel bad for his classmates as they saw him enter the doors of the dorm building with a scowl almost comparable to Bakugou’s, not even sparing them a word as he left them in the common room and shut himself up in his dorm.

At the current moment, Shouto is shifting somewhat uncomfortably on one of the many cushions that were dotted around the main floor common room. It was late in the evening, but the energy coming from the Class 1A dorms was much larger due to it being a Friday night. After a particularly hard week at school, Mina Ashido and Eijirou Kirishima had proposed the idea of a Class 1A slumber party in the main room and that everyone had to come. There were no exceptions to this rule, they explained - even a glaring Bakugou was nestled into the corner of the room with a weighted blanket on top of him and a pillow. It was truly a wonder that he hadn’t tried to escape or fall asleep yet, but the rest of the class didn’t dare to ask him. Denki had tried it earlier and was greeted with a small explosion to the face and a few very choice words spat at him. This was a first for the red-and-white haired boy - never had he had a sleepover, much less a slumber party, so the pillow fights and truth-or-dare games that were being played were more or less foreign concepts to him. However, here was one thing he did know. It was that he found a sense of peace when looking at you. As a strong and powerful hero-in-training, he had always kept an eye on you in training to try and better prepare himself for an attack. But recently, he noticed that his gaze always gravitated to you whenever he was in the classroom or in the dining room. Whether it was the sun shining on your Y/H/C hair or the smile that sprouted from your lips whenever someone cracked a joke, he found them much more interesting since they were coming from you. Before long, the two of you had developed a solid friendship that involved everything - from studying together in the library to going on late night soba runs, he found you to be a much needed source of support in his life. What he didn’t realize would happen, though, was heat creeping up onto his cheeks when you locked eyes with him. You did nothing to make him feel embarrassed - just offered him a kind smile and began to make your way over to him, but the blush on his cheeks was unrelenting. He even tried to activate his right side in the hopes of cancelling it out, but to no avail. Thankfully to him, you didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s getting kinda crazy in here, huh.” You say, trying to spark up a conversation between you and him. Shouto, not finding any words, merely nodded his head. “It’s fine to be overwhelmed,” you continued, “I remember the first time I had a sleepover when I was nine years old. I had to call my parents to pick me up early because I felt like it was too suffocating,” you laugh, poking fun at your younger self’s obseredity. This cracked a small smile on Shouto’s lips. “Tell me if you need an excuse to get out of here - I have several stored up in here from previous uncomfortable situations.” You say, pointing a finger up to your temple.

“I think Bakugou would benefit from that,” Shouto muses as both of your gazes flicker over to the sulking blonde. The sound of your laughter does wonders to soothe the antsy feeling he had previously in his chest.

“Okay, well, us girls are going to get ready for bed in my room! We’ll be back any minute, so no need to worry!” Mina announces, sending a smile to the boys as the girls got up one by one and grabbed their pajamas. You gave Shouto a smile and a pat on the shoulder before standing up. You stretched your arms above your head due to the ache that was ever prominent from the endless days of training finally catching up to you. 

“Alright, I’ll be back soon. Save me a good spot?” You ask, backpedaling slowly so that your face was still turned towards Shouto. With a small smile, he nodded.

“Sure thing.” With a quick thumbs up and a little spring in your step, you spun around to quickly follow the rest of your female classmates. As soon as the door was shut, Denki had motioned for all of the guys to come to the middle of the room. Shouto, figuring that they were just going to talk about how they should figure out sleeping arrangements, shuffled closer as well. Oh, how wrong he was.

“So, now that the girls are gone for a bit, I gotta know. Who do you guys think the prettiest or, my preferred adjective, hottest girl in class is?” Immediately, Shouto’s eyes widened at the subject of conversation and how unabashedly forward he was. The red-and-white haired boy was even more shocked when the rest of the guys started talking.

“Well, we all have to admit that Momo is very pretty.” Sero says, earning nods from around the room.

“I think I know who Midoriya is gonna say,” teased Denki, nudging the green-haired boy’s side with his elbow.

“I-I don’t really know what you guys are on about?” Midoriya said, his voice octaves higher than normal. Snickers erupted from the boys as they all - even Shouto unconsciously - came to the same conclusion that Midoriya was thinking of a certain pink-cheeked brunette.

“I think that Hagakure is pretty.” A small voice peeped. All heads turned to face Ojirou who had a shy smile on his face. The next few minutes of conversations were filled with the boys commenting on how pretty the girls were in their class, going from Tsu to Mina, and then to Jirou.

“We all know you have the hots for Jirou, Denki, you don’t need to hide it.” Sero said, a mischievous grin laced across his face. The electric blonde’s jaw opened and closed like a fish before quickly changing the subject.

“W-well how about L/N?” He said, trying to get his nerves to dissipate. At her name being voiced, Shouto’s head perked up and, before he could stop the words from his mouth, he spoke.

“That’s just common sense.” The room went quiet as soon as Shouto’s words were spoken, all eyes on him. He couldn’t believe himself. That phrase, the one that irked him so much, he actually used. As much as he wanted to cringe at the use of it, he couldn’t help but understand why he used it. He had looked up the exact meaning of the phrase online before, and every site he found yielded the same results; a practical judgement concerning everyday matters. If someone were to lack common sense, then that person would usually be regarded as a simpleton or unintelligent. Well, Shouto couldn’t help but agree that if people had thought of Y/N as anything but gorgeous, then they were definitely lacking common sense.

“Uh, care to elaborate?” Kirishima asked, trying to prompt the red-and-white haired boy to spill his inside feelings that were usually never exposed to the rest of the group. Normally, Shouto would’ve put that iron gate back up around his mind and heart, but like a dam bursting and overflowing with water, he couldn’t help but let his drowning thoughts of Y/N consume his better judgement.

“It’s common sense that she’s pretty because she encapsulates everything it means to be as such.” The boys all leaned in closer to hear more, but were interrupted by a door swinging open.

“Okay, we’re back! Now, what movie should we watch? I’m kinda partial to Game Night, but am open to suggestions.” Mina chirps. The boys quickly dispersed from the middle of the room and back to their original spots. Shouto tried to find his bearings as quickly as possible since you were making your way back over to him.

“Hey! Sorry we took so long, Hagakure brought up the subject of Hawks and the girls just kinda latched onto talking about him and wouldn’t let go,” you joked, rolling your eyes playfully and settling down next to him. “Thanks for the spot by the way, it’ll be kinda cool sleeping next to each other!” Shouto looked down to where he had left your pillow and blankets and swallowed.

“Oh, uh, yes.” He said. That’s when he finally got a solid look at you. Dressed in soft-looking shorts and an oversized crewneck, you looked as cozy as could be. It was like a warm hug embraced his heart as he watched you shimmy under your blanket, shifting around to find the most comfortable position in order to watch the movie.

“So, what movie do you wanna watch?” You asked, offering him a giddy smile. Shouto’s smile grew larger as he too began to crawl under his blanket.

“I’m not sure, but I’m sure whatever the others decide on will be a suitable choice.” He said. You nodded in return. In the end, the class decided on a random rom-com they found while scrolling through one of the various streaming services the UA campus TVs provided. The overhead lights of the common room were turned off, so only the blue-ish light emitting from the TV made your faces visible to each other.

“Umm, Shouto?” You whispered. Shouto turned his gaze away from the movie and onto your face. With an expression that showed he was listening, he encouraged you to continue your thoughts. “I just wanted to thank you for your compliment earlier, I… I thought it was super sweet.” Shouto’s mind ran a rerun of the day, trying to think of the specific compliment he had given you, until he arrived on the one he indirectly gave you just an hour earlier. His eyes widened and his heart began to beat more quickly as you nudged your way closer to him. “I think it’s common sense that you’re pretty, too.” Shouto drew a shaky breath as your nose brushed against his.

“May I…?” He asked, his voice so trembly that he couldn’t create a full sentence. Thankfully, though, you seemed to understand.

“Mhm” You hummed, meeting him halfway. It was perfect. Slow and sweet, showing how he was truly savoring the experience. A hesitant hand made its way up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across it. While the rest of the class was indeed there, this moment was incredibly private to the both of you. Just you, Shouto, and the common sense shared between you two that you were irrevocably and incandescently in love with each other.

[jishyucks]

Liar, Truther ‣ lmh

‣ genre: sorta f2l, fluff

‣ wc: 7.2k {dialogue heavy}

‣ summary: Your secret admirer’s plans are ruined when someone else claims to be who they’re not… you’re not aware of this

series m.list

The Cute Barista

i.

Somehow, it calms you down watching Minho make coffee. The way his eyes would naturally widen and how he’d bite his bottom lip when he focused on his mini project… it all intrigued you. If he messed up, he would let out a quiet tsk that he thought only he heard, but in reality, that one part of the coffee shop could hear it. You found it cute, how much genuine passion he put into simply making coffee or drinks in general. It was rare to see it in a person. 

When he looked up after finishing his task, you turned your head sharply back to your work, secretly hoping that he hadn’t seen you staring at him as he did his job. It’s not like he didn’t know you and you were being a stalker. You both talked to each other all the time, you even knew where each other lived, but still being caught staring at him would probably be the most embarrassing thing in the world.

Minho rounded the counter, your ordered coffee in one hand and a food item in the other. He approached your table and smiled, “For Miss Y/N, your usual with the hearts and a chocolate chip muffin.” 

You looked up at his warm eyes with a surprised expression, “Thanks for the coffee Minho… but I didn’t order this.” You pushed the muffin away from you and to Minho. 

He shook his head and pushed it back to you, “I know you didn’t, but I take orders from my customers and they specifically told me to give it to you when you come in.” Minho snorted quietly at your defeated look. You groaned and pulled the muffin towards you and stared at it like it was some foreign object. 

For the past few weeks, a secret admirer had been leaving you free items for when you came in. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful for free food, because who wouldn’t want that? It was more so because you didn’t know the person and there was no way you were able to repay them or thank them personally without knowing who they were. You felt like you were just taking the food and doing nothing else about it and you hated that.

You remember the first time you received a food item. You thought it was part of some reward thing at the cafe that you knew nothing about. It only occurred to you that someone had been buying you this stuff when Minho straight up explained to you the whole situation when you asked (more like forced) him to tell you.

“Tell them I say thank you,” you mutter with a pout on your lips. Minho gives you a warm smile before turning around to get back to work. He stopped in his tracks when you called him back, “Minho.” A questioning look filled his face. His eyebrow was raised and his hands rested naturally on his hips. 

“Can you tell me who it is?” 

For a second, Minho was actually at a loss of a perfect reply. Should he tell you who it is or keep it a secret? It wouldn’t be exciting if he told you who it was this way right? 

“It’s a secret.” He smirked and winked teasingly before heading back to his spot behind the counter. You were left slightly annoyed, though you did understand why he chose to not tell you. If you had been in the spot of your admirer, you would’ve wanted it to be a complete secret too. 

Sneaking another glance at Minho, a small tiny bit of your heart hoped that Minho was your secret admirer.

ii.

It was a funny sight seeing Minho being bombarded by a group of girls who only came to this specific little cafe for him. He was waving off the pieces of paper obviously ripped randomly from a loose leaf, a kind yet awkward smile occupying his face. By the looks of his mouth, it looked like he was repeating words, which was inaudible from the place you sat at. 

Once he had finally gently rejected the phone numbers of girls. A satisfied expression took over the distraught look as he jumped over the counter and made his way towards you. 

“You look extra dead today,” Minho slipped into the seat in front of you, leaning back to relax. He was on his fifteen, it was obvious by the fact he was still wearing his apron around his waist. 

You peaked up at him through the hair sitting over your arm and sighed, “Tell me something I don’t know.” Sitting up you offered him a small smile, “How was your day?”

He shrugged and let his head fall back, almost hitting the chair behind his, “Boring. Today was boring.” He reached for the window next to him, gliding his finger across the unbothered condensation to draw a cat. 

“Boring how?” You had abandoned the books in front of you and followed his finger with your eyes, watching as he started drawing a family of cats. That was probably the most adorable thing you’ve seen in ages.

“It just wasn’t the same today, aside from those girls,” he shrugged, “Also my lecture couldn’t have been any more boring. My professor has that monotone voice that can lull someone to sleep.” He sat back up properly, looking back at you instead of the frosty window. 

“I’m guessing you fell asleep,” you laughed quietly. You wanted to ask him why he didn’t give at least one of those girls a chance, but he quickly interrupted your thoughts, causing you to easily forget about it.

“You guessed right,” he said proudly, “Not that I wanted to sleep, though. I tried my best to stay awake  but my head started doing that thing where it just jerks down and I just let it be. It is what it is.”

You both let out low laughs so that none of you would disturb the rest of the cafe. He glanced down at his watch and sighed, “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye.”

You let out a sigh similar to Minho’s as he walked back behind the counter, helping out Hongjoong who was beginning to juggle a few more drinks than he could handle. 

Not even ten minutes later, Minho had returned to your table, a ginger molasses cookie sitting snugly in a cute paper bag in hand. He slid it gently on top of your books, making sure you could see it.

“Again?” Your eyes brightened up at the sight of the cookie. It looked freshly baked, and just by tapping it with your fingertip, it was still soft.

Minho laughed and nodded, “Disappointed?”

“Not at all,” you shook your head and picked up the treat, taking in the scent, “You know my deal.”

Before he returned to the counter, he patted your shoulder, “I know. I make sure he knows you’re grateful.”

iii.

The half eaten cookie was sitting on your bedside table. You wanted to savour it a bit more. Plus, it could help you channel the depths of your brain on who your secret admirer could be. 

You remembered Minho stating that your admirer was a he, so that made it easier to pick out who they could be. 

You skipped over Minho as one of the possibilities. Part of you just simply didn’t want to get your hopes up. Then the other part of you was thinking that it obviously couldn’t be Minho. He was the deliverer. The messenger, you could say. How stupid could Minho be for him to be both your secret admirer and the deliverer? 

Pretty stupid, you think. 

Then you thought about his coworkers. The ones you only ever interacted with and saw all the time were Hongjoong and Jungwoo. And as far as you knew, they both were either already taken or way too busy to even keep up with a relationship. 

Your mind wandered over to the other people at the cafe. A few of them were familiar to you, seeing them on campus or in a class a couple times.  A handful of them, the regulars, you just memorized their faces and their voices due to the amount of times they’ve been at the cafe. At the top of your head you mentally put them down on a list even if some of their names were unknown to you. 

You wondered if that person always was in the cafe the same time as you were or if they just paid beforehand and told Minho to give the food item to you when you came in. 

Then your mind, as much as you told it not to, shifted towards the idea that maybe it was Minho. You laughed out a bit, covering your mouth with your forearm. Maybe you were pretty stupid for thinking that. Out of all the girls that gawked over him at the cafe, him choosing you would be the funniest joke known to man. It’s impossible. 

As if you were physically writing in a notepad, you flipped the page full of the potential admirers and at the top of the page wrote ‘Reasons it could be Minho.’ This was partly just a way to joke about it, easing the tension you created within yourself. But then you also wanted to see the actual possibility of it being Minho. With this, you were literally digging your own grave. It was like you unconsciously wanted to get your hopes up. Even if you knew there was a chance of getting hurt at the end, you continued anyway. 

One: He’s the only one I actually have had a conversation with in the cafe. Then your mind contradicted itself and the idea that an admirer didn’t need to be someone you’ve talked to. 

Two: Is it a coincidence that the treats were often my favourites? But then again, maybe your admirer just noticed that you always get those specific pastries. 

Three: His reactions when he hands me them are suspicious. Then maybe Minho feels nothing for me and loves being the wingman for your admirer. Minho did seem to be the kind to love romantic films… maybe he just loved watching the one he was a part of in real life. 

Four: Only Minho gives me them. Never any Hongjoong or Jungwoo… was that also a coincidence? Nothing to defend that one.

Though that last reason was kind of a reach, you pushed your brain to star it. That was the reason that maybe, maybe, Minho was actually your secret admirer. 

iv. 

You entered the cafe craving your afternoon caffeine. It was quieter than usual and less people occupied the tables. Only two other people sat down and Hongjoong was the only employee who was behind the counter. 

“Y/N!” He greeted as he slithered his way towards the cashier, “The usual?” 

You nodded and let your head drift towards the back of the store. Hongjoong chuckled quietly, “He’s not here today if you’re looking for Minho.” 

Panicking you use your hands to wave off his possible accusations and laugh sheepishly, “No no, it’s not like that. I just had a question for him.” You couldn’t help but feel heat creeping up your cheeks. If only you could reach over and punch the blonde headed boy for that. 

“What is it?” Once the satisfying beep sounded from the machine, you followed him to the end of the counter and leaned against the waiting area by the coffee machines. 

You hesitated for a bit before making up your mind. If your admirer did ask Minho to send you the gifts then maybe Hongjoong has seen him too, “I wanted to ask him who’s been giving me those freebies.” 

A smirk crept up onto Hongjoong’s face, hands busy with making coffee. His smirk transitioned into a small smile, one in which you could basically read that he knew of the person. 

“Spill,” you begged. A pout had naturally overtook your face, eyes growing big in hopes it’d fool Hongjoong into revealing who it was. 

“You know I can’t tell you, right?” He gave you a brief ‘are you kidding me?’ look before he went back to working. 

“What do you mean you can’t tell me?” 

“It’s a secret,” he shrugged, pouting his own lips, “Why do you want to know anyways?” His reply reminded you of Minho’s reply when you asked him yourself. Secret. 

“I wanna make up for all the stuff they’re giving me,” you watched as Hongjoong effortlessly poured the beverage into a glass mug before he slid it gently over to you, “Can’t you give me a hint?” Your voice slightly echoed in the cafe. Either that or you were just thinking things. 

The boy stood back and rested his hands on his hips. Head lifting, he furrowed his eyebrows and hummed, “Hmm, let me think…” 

You leaned forward as if he were about to tell you a deep secret, eager to gain knowledge that could possibly help eliminate some of the potentials on your mental list. 

“He…” Hongjoong mirrored your figure, bending down against the counter. He glanced around, acting like people were close enough to hear before he spoke quietly, “Goes to this cafe.”

You gasped and flicked his finger lightly, “No shit.”

Bursting out laughing, he pushed himself off of the counter to stand back up, winking, “You should’ve seen your face!... I told you, it’s a secret. I’d tell you if I could but I’m loyal.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes, “Okay Kim Hongjoong, whatever you say… thanks for the drink by the way.” He was still in a fit of laughter when you turned to sit at your usual table. 

You laid out the things you needed to finish, making sure you didn’t knock over the beverage at the end of the table. With long hours ahead of you, you needed every drop that was sitting in that cup… and maybe a few refills too. 

The world around you was willingly blocked out as you had your earphones plugged in and playing loud. You weren’t aware of the volume, but the people who were sitting in the cafe probably heard the heavy parts of the song. You didn’t care, it put you in the zone. Being fueled with caffeine and being placed in a different atmosphere other than the stuffy air of your apartment, these factors really did help motivate you to work. 

If it hadn’t been for the silence in between the songs, you wouldn’t have noticed the stranger sitting in front of you, trying to get your attention. Startled, you tugged roughly at the chord of your earphones and smiled sheepishly, “Oh I’m sorry, how long have you been there for?” 

You really had no idea how in the hell this boy placed himself there without your knowledge. It made you wonder how easy it would have been for kidnappers to just take you, or for someone to fish out some money from your bag. 

“Not long,” he shyly smiled, “I’m Minjun.” The longer you stared at him, the more you recognized him as someone from one of your classes. You probably took one glance at him and never again. Not on purpose, though. 

“Y/N,” you nodded your head, fingers not leaving the surface of your laptop, “Um… may I ask why you came here?” 

Minjun’s eyes twinkled, remembering why he hauled himself there in the first place, “I – uh – overheard you talking to him,” He pointed over at Hongjoong who was preoccupied with something entertaining on his phone, “About an admirer.” 

He had suddenly stolen all your attention, reeling it in like it was a fish. You nodded. He noticed your eyes light up as well, “Yeah. It’s been frustrating for me, not knowing who it is.”

Was I really speaking that loud? Damn. 

“What if I told you it was me?” Minjun had one of those smiles that begged for attention. It was that beautiful and he knew it by the way he smiled at you. 

Oh. 

It wasn’t a disappointed ‘oh.’ Sure a small part of you had hoped for Minho to be telling you this, but you weren’t disappointed that it’s Minjun. It was better that it was him than a complete stranger. 

“Is it really?” You feel the corners of your mouth being pulled up gently. All those little items of food, the way they made your heart flutter, the thought put into it… it was all Minjun? 

He nodded bashfully, “I was going to tell you later on but from how frustrated you sounded, I guess it’d be better sooner than later.”

“H-how can I make it up to you?” You blurted, “I’m really thankful for all those gifts.” 

“A date? With me?” He suggested. Minjun played his own game of thumb war out of nervousness, waiting for your answer. 

A certain boy lingered at the back of your head, reminding you that he existed. But then Minjun still held that sweet smile on his and you were recalled that you wanted to make it up to him. If he wanted a date, then why not? 

“That would be nice.”

v.

Minho dropped off your usual and a mini croissant along with it. You couldn’t help but smile at the treat. You thought that upon revealing himself, Minjun would’ve stopped giving you the treats, but you were wrong. 

The barista sat across from you, letting out a loud groan to express the feeling of finally getting to sit down after hours of working, “Long time no see.” He was slumped down in the chair, eyes struggling to stay open as he watched you work. 

“It’s only been a week or so,” you laughed, shaking your head at his exaggeration. You continued to write whatever nonsense it was on your paper, not bothering to look at the exhausted look on Minho’s face.

He shrugged, “Feels like it. What have you been up to anyway?” Leaning over, he snooped at your work, humming in pretend fascination. 

“School,” you reply monotonically. You didn’t feel like telling Minho about Minjun. The presence of the croissant was enough to let you know that Minjun had probably told you himself. 

“I see,” he continued to look over your notes, leaning in closer to watch you jot down some definitions. Feeling his breath against your head, you raise your head out of curiosity, bumping your head hard against his forehead. Minho jumped back, holding his hand against his forehead, in turn, you hold the crown of your head. 

“Oh shit I’m sorry!” you gasped. You leaned forward to get a proper look of him, alarmed at the sudden incident. If your head hurt as much as it did now, you wondered how his forehead felt. 

“It’s okay,” he chuckled lightly, rubbing it in circles, “It was an accident.” His eyes were squeezed tight and lips pressed together into a thin line. 

“You sure you're okay? You look like you’re in pain,” You continued to look at him, concerned. 

“I swear I–“ 

“Hey Y/N!” 

Looking up at the entrance of the cafe, your attention turns to Minjun who’s waving at you, smile lighting up the room. He was slowly making his way towards your table, eyes drawn to Minho’s hunched figure. 

Once he got to your table, Minho finally noticed the presence of someone else, eyes trailing from Minjun’s shoes to his face. He couldn’t hide his confusion, face twisting into an expression neither you or Minjun noticed, “Hey, I missed you after class earlier.”

“Sorry, I was in a hurry. I’ll wait for you next time,” you grinned. 

Minho couldn’t help but regret not prolonging his pain. It was like you had suddenly forgotten about the incident not even thirty seconds ago. To him it seemed like all your attention was on this new boy. 

“Gotta get back,” he whispered to you. 

“I’ll talk to you later?” 

He did a tiny salut, standing up and excusing himself from both you and Minjun. Taking this opportunity, Minjun slid into the same seat, fixing his stuff alongside yours. 

“Who is that?” Minho hopped smoothly over the counter, taking his place beside Jungwoo who had his mind set on fixing a drink for a customer. Minho was only asking because you’ve never brought a guy in with you. You were always alone. 

Jungwoo shrugged, bending down slightly to get to eye level with the cup, “I’ve seen him a few times. Don’t know who he is though.” Scraping some out of place foam off of the top, he placed the drink gently in front of the customer who had been waiting patiently.

Moving his eyes towards the both of you, he kept the direction of his head down at the cashier, pretending to count the non-existent money in his hand. 

“Don’t worry about him,” Jungwoo couldn’t help but laugh at how his friend was acting. Like a protective, almost jealous boyfriend, though Minho wasn’t aware of his actions, “What if they’re just partners for a project or something?”

Partners for a project looking like that? Pfft. Minho glared at his co-worker, waving him off, annoyed, “I’m not worrying abo–”

Jungwoo eyed Minho with a soft yet threatening expression. It looked like he was reading any thought that seemed to appear in Minho’s head, “He’s not going to ruin your plan, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“How do you know that?” 

“I just know,” Jungwoo urged, “This is just a sign you should tell Y/N that you’re that admirer she keeps asking about. It won’t hurt, you know. What if she chooses you over him?”

Jungwoo had a point. But for some reason, the presence of this other boy threatened Minho. He was even more afraid to ask you out compared to when he hadn’t crossed paths with you.

vi.

“Hello?” You tapped the back end of your pencil against your notebook, staring out at the street full of busy people. 

“Y/N!” Minjun greeted through the phone. 

You smiled, “What’s up? Why’d you call?”

“Wanna eat out tonight? It’s a Friday and I know you worked hard this week.”

Preferring some good food instead of the repetitive instant ramen, you accepted Minjun’s invite and quickly ended the call to get home to fix yourself up. 

Standing up, you didn’t notice that someone had been standing behind you, causing you to stumble clumsily over their feet. 

“Woah there,” Minho laughed. He caught your wrist to steady you, “Where are you going in such a hurry?” You had noticed that his apron wasn’t tied around his waist and he had a jacket sitting over his shoulders, “Home. You scared me!”

“Home? I’ll walk you.” He picked up the remaining books on the table and handed them to you for you to place in your bag, “My shift is done.” He waited for your answer as you zipped your bag up and swung it over your shoulder.

“Sure, I’d appreciate that,” you smiled. He gestured for you to lead the way, trailing behind you not long after. Once out of the cafe, he quickened his pace to walk next to you, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets and away from the late winter air. 

“So why were you actually in a hurry?” He looked down at you, “That excited to sleep or something?”

You chose not to look back at him, afraid to complete the eye contact, but you hummed and smiled, “Nope, I’m going out.”

Minho held himself back from asking any more questions. Instead he settled with a, “Oh that’s cool.” In the back of his mind, he could guess that you were going out with that guy he saw the other day. 

“Yeah, I’m happy. Only time I’m out of the house is at school or the cafe,” you skipped a bit in your step and tightened your grip on your bag’s straps out of slight excitement. 

Minho didn’t reply. It wasn’t like he wasn’t happy for you if you were dating that guy, he was just drowning at the thoughts drenching his head. Didn’t you like your secret admirer? Even if you didn’t like him, didn’t you at least wanted to have that special spot open for your admirer? It didn’t make sense. It’s like this other boy came out of nowhere and interfered with his play. 

A poke at his side interrupted his train of thought, causing him to jump dangerously close to the curb. Laughing, you held him from going any further, “I meant to catch your attention not almost kill you!”

Minho looked down at your hand holding his forearm gently, “You almost did!”

You let out another fit of laughter and let go of him, “You looked deep in thought and I couldn’t help but ask what’s got your face to look like this.” Planting yourself into one spot on the street, you fix your face into one identical to Minho’s. 

“I don’t look like that when I’m thinking,” he gasped, slapping his cheeks as if it would keep it from distorting that way. 

You raised a brow, “Aha, that’s what you think but in actuality, you do. My eyes are witnesses.” Your apartment building crawled closer and closer and with each step you began to forget about your dinner with Minjun. 

“Then this is what you look like when you’re focused,” Minho mocks. He pulls at his cheeks and sticks out his tongue ever-so-slightly out of the corner of his mouth. 

“So I look like roadkill when I’m focusing.”

No you look cute when you’re focused. “Yup,” he tapped at your temple, “That studying is helping after all.” 

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head as you laugh, mood slowly declining at the arrival at your apartment building, “Bye Minho, thanks for walking me home.” You make your way towards the front door. 

“I-I’ll see you later?” he quickly blurted. 

You grinned and turned to him at the front steps of your building. Under the setting sun, the light bounced softly off of Minho’s cheekbones, eyes slightly squinted. He waved like a young child, jacket hanging loosely from his shoulder and hair being thrown around by the subtle wind in the air. Something from this simple sight made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy. It was a weird feeling but you liked it. 

You really did wish that he was your secret admirer.

You grinned and waved back, “See you later.”

vii.

“So… how did you think of doing that whole secret admirer thing for me?” All secret admirers have their motives. Whether really cheesy or sweet, to something as simple as ‘you just really caught my attention,’ all answers were worth a listen. And you wanted to hear Minjun’s reason. 

Taking a bite out of his food, you didn’t notice the look of slight panic from his face as his eyes darted around the restaurant to conjure up a reason. 

“I…” he jabbed his fork a few handful of times into his pasta as he used his head to think, “I didn’t realize how much I liked you until I started to see you often between the cafe and school. I guess I was too shy to talk to you so I guess I just used this way to win your attention.”

You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks heat up at his explanation. He did that just for your attention? Judging by the person Minjun was, he didn’t need to spend all that money on you, “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything… it’s just nice to tell you how I felt,” he offers you a genuine smile before taking another bite of his food. 

“Actually I have one request,” you were afraid to ask him. You had no idea if he’d be offended by it or not, but it wasn’t hard to do it. He hummed in response, mouth still full of food, “Would it be okay for you to stop giving me the treats? It’s not that I’m not grateful for them, which I am and I’m sure the baristas at the cafe let you know that, but I feel bad because you keep on spending the money for me when I have no idea how I’m supposed to give back all the time.”

By the end of your request, Minjun finished his bite, “If that’s what you want,” he gulps, “But that won’t stop me from giving you one once in a while.” 

You rolled your eyes playfully and took a bite of your own food. Quickly chowing it down, you questioned him again, “How did you know what pastries I liked? There was not one I didn’t like.”

A bystander would have the right to call you oblivious when you didn’t notice the blank look on Minjun’s face. He was unable to think of an answer quick, losing control of his expressions even in front of you. 

“Lucky guess,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his water, “Maybe I’m psychic.”

You pinned a loose grin onto your face. Even when you tried to do so, the smile didn’t reach your eyes. The answer wasn’t one you were expecting. You tried to let it fly past your head, not wanting to ruin the moment between you and Minjun. But it didn’t mean you’d forget about his answer forever. 

viii.

Even with your specific request to Minjun about the free food items he’d be giving you, every time you chose to hang and study in the cafe, you received a pastry that you hadn’t paid for. Like always, Minho made sure each and every one of the pastries were warm, placing it gently on the last little space left on your table among your things. 

You were genuinely thankful for the constant present being gifted to, but you wished that Minjun really did listen to your request. It wasn’t hard to stop sending the message-less ‘pastry grams.’ And it wasn’t like you guys don’t see each other at all. In fact, you were able to see him every other day during class and in the cafe about twice a week. 

Minho hissed quietly when he feels hot water come in contact with the skin of his hands. He pulled his arm closer to his body and fanned it as if it would help the pain subside. 

“And that’s why you need to pay attention when working,” Hongjoong slid to his side and started cleaning up the mess Minho made on the counter. 

Squinting at his hand, he noticed how the scorching water had left a red imprint on his hand, “I was.” He picked up the coffee cup and dropped it into the sink, grabbing another one to start again. 

“Having your eyes planted on the couple isn’t being focused,” Hongjoong leaned against the counter and chuckled at the sight of his friend’s distraught face. 

Minho glared at him, “Don’t call them a couple. That’s gross.” 

“They seem like it though,” Hongjoong pouted in a way that was ‘all knowing.’ This expression was wiped clean off of his face when Minho sent him a glare that could probably kill a person if he tried, “I’m joking! I thought your secret admirer plan was working.”

Minho frowned at the thought of his failing plot, turning away from Hongjoong, “I thought it was too. But apparently Y/N likes face to face interaction more than those stupid ass pastries.” 

Hongjoong gasped, “Jungwoo did you hear that?”

Jungwoo crashed through the back door, causing it to swing way off of its route, “Hear what?”

Hongjoong reached for Minho’s elbow, pulling the self-doubting boy towards him, “He called his treats plan stupid!” 

This time, Jungwoo gasped, “Don’t say that! You know damn well it was working.”

Minho shrugged, “If you call that working then yeah sure.” He jutted his head towards you and Minjun and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Hongjoong was about to speak up, only to be interrupted by the sound of an impatient customer clearing his throat at the register. 

Minho couldn’t help but blame himself for holding off asking you out and being the coward he was. If he had been brave enough to ask out in the first place, then maybe you wouldn’t have been sitting across from Minjun in the first place. 

He let the fake smile fall from his face and turned towards the customer, “What would you like for today?” 

ix.

“Bye Jungwoo.” Minho was about to hop over the counter like always, only he was stopped by Jungwoo holding him down by his wrist, “Wait where are you going?” 

The cafe was close to empty, the only customers inside were you and Minjun helping each other study for an upcoming exam. The sky outside was nearing pitch black, the beautiful light blue being pushed down by the darker shade. 

“Home. Where else?” raising a brow at his friend, he waited for a reply. He had a pack of ramen waiting for him at home and the faster he got home, the sooner he could cook and eat it. 

“But you haven’t given Y/N that,” Jungwoo pointed to a slice of banana bread sitting with the other cafe baked goods. 

“What’s the use if he’s here,” Minho reasoned, “It’s okay, I’ll just do it–”

“I’ll give it to her when you leave,” Jungwoo offered, “I know what you’re thinking.” Minho grinned, and glanced between you and the banana bread as Jungwoo laid a hand on his shoulder to assure him. He knew Minho was afraid to answer him so he took his silence as a green light.

Minho bid him another goodbye before turning to the door.

While you looked down at your notes, you spotted Minho making his way to the door at the corner of your eye. You had no idea if you should look up or not. He hadn’t come up to you to talk like how he usually would. You couldn’t help but think that he was mad at you for something. Or maybe he just wasn’t having it at all lately. 

Nevertheless, you fought the thoughts at the back of your head and still looked up to smile at him, waving at him. You caught Minho’s eye and he turned, allowing a wide smile to show up on his face. His wave was brief, but not long after, he pulled the cafe door open and left without a single word. Your smile faltered into a subtly baffled look, confused at his behaviour. You knew that if Minho had something on his mind, he’d choose to tell you.

“We can finish this one last topic and then we can leave,” Minjun yawned, “I’m getting really tired.”

“That sounds good,” you agreed, flipping your book’s page. Even if your mind should be trained on the bolded words of your textbook, you still couldn’t wave off Minho from lingering at the back of your head.

Halfway down the page, Jungwoo had gone up to your table, a smile stretched upon his face, “Sorry, I’m just here to–” He put down a nicely wrapped slice of banana bread by your hand, patting it gently as he did, “Give this to you. From your admirer.”

“Ah, thanks Jungwoo,” you said. He nodded and walked back to the counter to begin cleaning up. You turned to Minjun who kept his eyes between the lines of the notes, “Minjun, I told you that you don’t need to give me these anymore.” The cafe was so quiet that your voice had accidentally come out louder than you intended, catching the attention of today’s messenger boy easily. 

Jungwoo didn’t know how to react at first. He was caught off guard by the miscommunication and the mistake you had made. 

“What?” Jungwoo left the dirty rag at the counter, inching closer to you by the second, “Him? Give you these?” At realization, Minjun’s eyes widened, unable to speak up.

“Minjun’s my secret admirer… h-he told me two weeks ago,” you quickly explained to Jungwoo, forcing ourselves a nervous laugh. The look on Jungwoo’s face was one you’ve never seen before and it scared you. You’ve always known him as the angel of the three, Hongjoong being the cheeky boy, and Minho was one you liked to call heartthrob because of how he was with other women. But this Jungwoo, he looked like an angry puppy. 

“No… you’ve got it wrong,” he retorted stiffly, “He’s not your admirer.”

When your gaze fell upon Minjun, he avoided eye contact, “Minjun is this true?” Your heart was beating fast. And not in a good way. Mixing up with fatigue, confusion, and the realization of probably being lied to hurt your chest and you didn’t know what to say. 

“Y-yes,” Minjun whispered, “But I can explain… I truly do like you and I… found this as my opportunity to get to you. I’m really sorry and–”

“So you ruined someone else’ opportunity, which they worked hard for, just so you can make a move on me?” You were angry, though you chose not to raise your voice. He nodded.

“Selfish. No offense, Minjun, but that’s a dick move. I don’t like liars,” you begin to clean your stuff up, “I can’t believe I’ve been sticking around you for the past few weeks.”

“I-I know I was being stupid, and I’m truly sorry,” he apologized, “Please forgive me.”

“You know what? I should’ve known you were lying when you couldn’t give me a proper reason on how you knew which pastries I liked,” you stood up and looked down at him, “ ‘Lucky guess’? What kind of fucking answer is that? I’m sorry but I don’t want to be around someone like you. Goodbye.”

Pulling Jungwoo out of the cafe, tears brimming your eyes out of frustration, you turned to him and questioned, “Who is it?” There was a hint of desperation in your eyes that you didn’t mean to add. At this point you wanted to meet the person who truly worked hard to win you heart. 

“I think you already know it is… you just keep doubting yourself,” Jungwoo replied sneakily. The smirk on his was taunting and it actually somewhat scared you into thinking. It was Minho. 

“Minho?”

Jungwoo exaggerated a shrug, pouting, “Oh, I don’t know…” And with that Jungwoo confirmed it was the boy who your heart actually suspected this entire time. Lee Minho.

Thanking Jungwoo, you flew towards the direction of Minho’s house, not even minding the weight of your bag as you sprinted for your life. This whole time it had been Minho. It explained everything. How, aside from today, he had given you them himself. How he’d smiled a certain way when you received the treats. How he knew which ones were your favourite. It’s not because of a lucky guess… it was all because he knew you well like how you knew him well. You were glad it was him. 

You caught your breath before you rang the doorbell, trying to find the words to say. Your mind was alphabet soup. Words and letters all jumbled up. It could take you much longer than you wished to think of what to say. 

Before you could even think of at least a decent thing to blurt out, Minho opened the door, the smell of freshly cooked ramen drifting out the doorway.

“Y/N?” He blinked a few times to make sure you were real, “What are you doing here? Come in.”

You followed him inside, still not letting a word come out of your mouth. You figured it would be better to be sure of what you were going to say to this oblivious barista. He didn’t know why you were there. But you did. 

He gestured for you to sit down as he went straight for the stove, stirring the ramen slowly. “I’m here because,” you start quietly. You searched around the room, still unsure of what to say. When your eyes fell upon the bag at your feet, a lightbulb had lit up in your untidy brain, “I’m here because of… of this!” You slid the slice of banana bread onto his table and nodded, “Yeah, because of this.”

Minho laughed, “Because of banana bread? You know I don’t bake those myself right?” He reached for a bowl in his cupboard and looked back at you, “Do you want some ramen?”

“Just a little bit please,” You started playing with the slice of food, “I’m not here to complain about the bread.” You tried to muster up all the energy in your body to finally get to the point. The past fifteen minutes have been a rollercoaster ride. This was the second drop. 

“Then why are you here?” Minho seemed to have lost all of his brain cells, completely forgetting the conversation he had with Jungwoo before he left for home. 

“I’m here because I know you’re the one giving me this,” you hold up the bread, “And all the other ones before it.”

Minho choked, dropping the empty glass bowl in his hand. Crashing to the ground, he let out a shit before he went straight for a broom and dustpan. You make your way over to him, helping him out.

“H-how did you find out?” He continued to sweep the floor, making sure no glass shards were left behind. It was also an excuse to not look at you, afraid to make eye contact. What if you didn’t like him back and this was your way to reject him?

“Minjun… he pretended to be you,” you stood over him, silently asking for him to finally look at you, “He said he was the one giving me the pastries, and I believed him even when I had a hint of doubt in my heart.” 

Minho didn’t know what to say, so you took this as a chance to continue talking.

“I just found out now that he’s been lying… and Jungwoo, he didn’t tell me it was you but he… hinted it was.”

Finally Minho stood up. This time it was him that was towering over the other. His cheeks a tint of red, unknown to you if it was from bending down or the secrets being revealed. 

“Are you disappointed that it’s me?” His voice grew frail and you wanted to just throw your arms around him and tell him you weren’t. 

But you stopped yourself, “No. Of course not! I’m… I’m actually relieved that it’s you.” The bashful smile that slowly revealed itself on Minho’s face caused your heart to flutter. He bowed his head as it grew wider by the second. It was like he couldn’t keep his emotions in.

“S-so you like me back?” 

You took a step closer, making sure eye contact was complete between the two of you. You grabbed his hands and brought your lips to his firmly before pulling back. 

“How’s that for an answer?” He didn’t reply, “Minho?”

Minho stood in shock for a few moments, unable to take his eyes off of you. He held a hand up to his lips, tips of his ears turning beet red. Once reality kicked back in, he leaned forward himself and pressed his lips against yours the same way you did. 

After he pulled away he beamed, “So… Ramen?”

a/n: Please leave a like if you enjoyed this!

[julia-highstorms]

Tom x Julia - NSFW ALPHABET

A/N: For this NSFW ABC, I decided doing things a bit differently… Tom and Julia themselves will be answering it!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Rating: +18 (NSFW. If you'd like to not be tagged on this type of content, tell me! If you'd like to be tagged on my Tom x F!MC fanfics, tell me!)

Word count: +2,500

Interviewer: Hello, and thanks for agreeing on answering this… uh, quiz. It’s a very intimate and explicit interview, so if you two could go on details, the better.

Tom: How intimate?! What do you mean explicit?! Julia, to what did you drag me onto?!

Julia: Thanks for having us! And relax, Tom, it’ll be fun! Okay, let’s do this! What’s the name of the quiz again?

I (with a smirk): "NSFW Alphabet"

*Tom immediately blushes*

T (murmuring): Oh my god, I’m having a bad feeling about this…

I: Alright, let’s begin: A = Aftercare. What are you like after sex? What do you do after steamy time? Fall asleep? Pillowtalk? Go for another round?

J: We just cuddle and talk. We're not the type to fall asleep, so we usually go grab something to eat…

T: Yeah, all that exercise always leaves me starving.

I: Oh, and what do you usually eat?

T and J (in unison): Pancakes

J: We make them together. It's a cool pastime, you know? Cooking together. You know a lot about the other person… Like, how messy Tom is in the kitchen.

T: In my defense, that bag of flour was already open! When we're too lazy we just order pizza, though.

I: Next letter… B = Body part. What's your favourite part of your partner’s body?

*Julia and Tom share a look, their eyes roaming each other's body and they both blush at the same time*

T: You go first. You're the one who brought us here.

J (rolls her eyes, avoiding making eye contact with Tom): It's weird. You'll find it stupid.

I: We won't. Take your time.

*Julia takes a deep breath and starts speaking again*

J: It might sound a bit weird, but--

T: Oh my God, is that my di--

J: No! I mean, I like it too, but… uh, it's not that thing! I mean, it's not my favorite thing! *Julia's cheeks turn pinker and pinker as she gets more tongue tied. Tom looks confused and the interviewer has to bite back a laugh* Uh, I really like this little tummy that shows up when you sit. *she confesses in a really, really low voice*

T: What?! Tummy?

J: Y-yeah… I actually am not a fan of ripped off bodies. They don't look natural to me. And that little tummy is… adorable.

T: Then maybe I should start drinking more beer. Because I got this tummy definitely from beer.

J: Absolutely not. You're insufferable when you're drunk.

I: What happens when you get drunk?

J: He starts telling these stupid jokes, but can't finish them because he's already laughing at it. And he laughs at literally anything. And he got this really loud laughter.

T: Hey, those jokes are gold! And you just turn into this killing machine when you're drunk! *Tom turns to the interviewer* Last time we went to a karaoke we got kicked out of there because she started picking up on fights with everybody!

J: Of course, no one knew how to sing decently there!

I: What about you, Tom? What is your favorite part of your girlfriend's body?

*Both the interviewer and Julia look at him expectantly, while his face flushes slightly*

T: I… really like her hips.

J: You mean my butt.

T: No! It really is your hips! They're... soft.

J: Ah, this is why you're always literally grabbing them! And looking at my butt! You perv--

T: Uh, what's the next question? *he takes a sip on the bottle of water that the interviewer offered to them before*

I: C = Cum. *Tom almost chokes on his water* Anything related to it.

T: Uh, what do you want to know about it? It happens, yeah. I make her cum and she makes me cum. This is what is supposed to happen, right? Isn't it?

J: Breathe, Tom.

*He takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Julia chuckles softly*

J: Yeah, we love making each other cum. Tom won't admit it out loud, but he loses his mind when I swallow it.

T: Oh my god, Julia…

J: I can see it on your face, babe.

I: Onto next letter… oh, this one is nice! D = Dirty Secret. What is a dirty secret of yours?

T: Uh… our first time was in a photo booth. And I got pictures of when Julia almost literally attacked me.

J: Shut up, you got into it very fast. And Tom is the biggest softie™ ever, but he might go rough… if I ask nicely. Right, Tom? *she smirks at him, trailing a finger down his arm, seductively and he has to shuffle away from her. Julia laughs*

I: Oh, how rough?

J: Hm, I guess I still have some marks here… *attempts to lift her t-shirt up, but Tom interrupts her*

T (with his face bright red): What's our next letter?! E?!

I: Exactly, E = Experience. How experienced are you? Do you know what they’re doing?

T: I've had like zero experience before Julia. She taught me everything I know.

J: And Tom's a fast and very eager learner. *she bumps her shoulder playfully on his and he ducks his head, a shy grin on his lips* I've had a few previous relationships, but Tom definitely is my first love and serious partner. But I thought you had a girlfriend in high school?

T: I had a girlfriend during sophomore year for three weeks, until I got fed up of her calling me 'senpai' all the time. I had some crushes after it, but they never developed to something more, until I met you.

J: Aww… I love you, Tomoichi Sato.

T: I love you too, Julia Vance.

I (smiling at them): This is all very sweet, but shall we continue on our interview? F = Favourite Position. I guess no further explanation is needed.

T: We never talked about it before, but… I love when she rides me... And when she takes control.

J (pretends to be shocked): Gasp! Oh, really?

T (shoves her from her chair, making her laugh loudly): Jerk!

J: Yeah, I'm pretty sure everyone knows who's the sub in this relationship. *chuckles* I like when you get behind me, Tom...

T (genuinely surprised): For real? *Julia nods, smiling sheepishly*

J: I don't know, it's so exciting to me. Because in a sense I don't know what, or more specifically, when it'll happen, you know? Since I can't see your face. Does it make sense? It doesn't matter if we're standing or lying down; that's the position that gives me more pleasure.

I: Woo, are you feeling the air getting hot and bothered in here? I certainly am. Alright, next one: G = Goofy. Are you more serious on the moment or more humorous?

J: If we aren't being goofy, then you bet something’s wrong.

I: Yeah, I can feel it. H = Hair. How well groomed are you?

J: I keep it trimmed.

T: Same. None just feels… unnatural? I don't know.

I: Okay, what about I = Intimacy? How are you during the moment? We're talking on the romantic aspect.

T: To be honest, intimacy is everything. Without it, we can't be ourselves with one another. I've never felt as connected to someone as I feel with Julia.

J: Yeah, and sex definitely helps bringing us even more closer.

T: Having sex without intimacy is just a weird concept to me.

I: J = Jack Off. Anything about masturbation.

T: Hmm… I confess I started masturbating a whole lot more after meeting her. Especially when we're apart because we almost literally live on the other side of the country from each other. And the longing sometimes is just too much.

J: We might even do some… hmm… very explicit video calls sometimes… Right, Tom?

T: Yeah, I always have to lock my door, because Andy has no sense of privacy and enters my room whenever he wants, usually to borrow a game. *Julia bursts out in laughter*

J: And when we’re finally together, we both love stimulating and pleasing each other.

T: Yeah, Julia has this really cute face when she is close to come.

I: Ooh… K = Kink. Any kink, you two?

T: Is dirty talking a kink?

J: C'mon Tom, we both know you like a light BSDM.

*Tom blushes furiously*

T: Nothing too rough, though! I can't stand pain.

J: Yeah, you're a big baby.

T: Julia loves getting it on in public spaces.

J: And you never can say no.

I (chuckling softly): Okay, L = Location. Got any favourite places to do the do?

T: I'll be honest, nothing is better than doing it on a comfortable surface like a bed or a couch.

J: Taking a shower together is nice too and saves water!

I: That's true. Now, tell me about M = Motivation. What turns you on? What gets you going?

J: I lose my mind whenever Tom gets this frown, like when he's playing a particular tough level or when beating monsters. That night when you showed up with that baseball bat and killed those lake monsters, I swear, I almost took my clothes off right there. I just didn't because Parker and Danni were there too.

T (laughing): Oh yeah, I can get pretty sexy when fighting for our lives. I guess my biggest motivator (and indicator that I'm doing something right) is when Julia calls my name while… I don't know, just her can make me feel this way when she says it.

J: Like this, Tom…? *she purrs into his ear before pecking on his neck and the boy's face turns red immediately* And if you want to turn Tomoichi Sato on, just kiss his neck. That is his most sensitive area.

I: What about turn offs? Something you wouldn't do? A N = NO?

J: I am completely against mixing food with sex. That would be so anti hygienic. Hell no.

T: The idea of inflicting pain is just awful to me.

I: O = Oral. Who prefers giving? And receiving? Who got better skills?

T: I'm much more a giver than Julia.

J: Because you're so eager to please me. And I ain't rejecting if you want to give. Of course I prefer receiving. Tom's skills are on point. He knows exactly what to do and how I like it. I taught him right. *she winks*

I: Interesting, very interesting… How's your P = Pace? Are you fast and rough? Or more slow and sensual?

T: I guess it depends on our mood, what we feel like doing in the moment. We like experimenting, learning what each other enjoys more.

J: We usually start slow and picks up speed from there.

I: What are your opinions on Q = Quickies rather than proper sex? How often do you do it?

J: Quickies are great to release some stress and when we just can’t hold back anymore, but don’t have enough time (which can happen pretty often).

T: ...Though proper sex is unbeatable.

I: And do you take R = Risks?

T: I mean, we've done it in public spaces with people around more than I'd like to admit.

J: But we always use protection. I make sure he wears a condom. I ain't taking that risk.

I: Alright, we're finishing it, guys! Just hang in there a bit more. Tell me about your S = Stamina. How many rounds can they go for, how long do you last, etc.

*They share a look*

T: I don't know, I would say we're average?

J: Sometimes we can go for 2 to 3 rounds… And we last just enough to usually come together (sometimes he lasts longer, sometimes I last longer…) and that is fantastic.

I: T = Toy. Do you own any toys? If yes, do you use them? On each other or on yourself?

J: My best friend thought it would be hilarious giving me a fucking dildo a few years ago. *Julia rolls her eyes annoyedly* I had to keep it safe so my parents or Elliot wouldn't find it. Though I confess it became rather useful after I met Tom and, you know, we started this long distance relationship thing. We use it only on me, because I don't think it's safe or hygienic to use this type of stuff on more than one person.

T: We use some ties sometimes. It's nice.

J: 'It's nice'. Oh my god, look at your face! *bursts in giggles*

I: U = Unfair. How much you like to tease.

T: Jeez, Julia is so unfair! She likes sitting on my lap when I'm playing, or grinding on me and… Yeah, you got the picture. She's teasing me literally all the time.

J: Well, I can't help it if you make me horny! Just by standing there! Looking adorable and sexy all the time!

I: Let's talk about V = Volume. How loud you are? What sounds do you make?

*Tom giggles*

T: Julia can get… very loud. Like, very. It's good though, because I know I'm doing it right.

J (with her cheeks flushed): Good for you and your ego, because, uh, poor Andy. I bet that other time he heard me.

T: Who wouldn't?

*He avoids a punch from hers*

J: Anyway, yeah, I definitely am the loudest. Though Tom makes all these whimpers and moans.

T: Which turn you on even more.

J: Yeah, they're so cute and, uh, sexy.

I: This is the second time you call him cute and sexy.

J: I mean, haven't you seen him?! *she points to her boyfriend, who chuckles*

T: Thanks for being my number #1 fan, Julia. It's reciprocated. *he kisses her forehead and she rests her head on his shoulder, sighing contently*

I: Okay, W = Wild Card. You can tell me anything. Something you never told each other. Is there something you'd like to try? Anything.

*Tom ducks his head, a bit embarrassed*

J: What?

T: You know… Since you usually wear more loose clothes, the first time I saw you completely naked, I was... surprised to know that you actually have breasts.

*Julia bursts out in laughter*

J: Oh, this is why you kept staring at and touching my breasts with so much interest! I'm loving this interview, so many revelations!

I: Since we're talking about sizes… X = X-ray. Tell us what's going on behind all these clothes!

T: Uh… I'm average? Nothing special in here.

J: Well, since we're already talking about my breasts, I wear 32C.

I: Y = Yearning. How high is your sex drive?

T: I'd say average again? It depends on the day and on our mood.

J: Yes, sometimes we’ll want to bang until we both pass out. *chuckles* There are days that we just want to cuddle and watch some TV. Though I can say for sure it got a bit higher since we started dating.

I: Alright, final letter! Z = Zzz. How quickly do you fall asleep after sex?

T: We actually don’t usually fall asleep afterwards. Although I feel physically tired, my mind is wide awake.

J: Me too. Like we said in the beginning of this interview, we end up talking. Or grabbing something to eat!

Tagging: @littlecrookedheart @pixelburied @mysticgayralsei @breaumonts @abbiebishops @madhattterusagi @noahpologiste @samira-yazdi @mysteli @indiacater @indescribablechoices @emomoustache @choices-fanatic @edgydepressedchoicesthot @violarobics @withoutanyconfidence @tiz-rex @priya-trash @alicegma @thequeenchoices

[bold]

Grocery Shopping - Ch. 1

Read it on AO3!

Chapter Summary: Evan Hansen can't sleep, and somehow this is cause for many, many problems.

Notes: hi im writing thos boys. first time ever posting a deh fic here we go!!! its sincerely three (eventually).  this chapter is Very kleinsen but i promise sincerely three is coming. (tw for arguments and aggression and panic attacks and stuff. prolly mentions of suicide/self harm in the future, but not in this chapter)

It always felt weird for Evan sit in the grocery store break room and wait for Jared. No one was in the store at 12 A.M. No one worked the night shift but Jared, and Evan knew that, so he'd sneak into the staff break room with the key Jared (very illegally) provided him with in case of emergencies. Emergencies, Evan had decided, could be considered anything causing Evan so much distress that he needed face-to-face consolation.

At 10 P.M., Evan was having trouble falling asleep. At 11 P.M., Evan decided he wasn't going to sleep that night. Within the next half hour, he was pulling a jacket over his pajamas and trudging out to his mom's pathetic excuse for a minivan. If he wasn't going to sleep, he could at least spend the next few hours with his best friend.

The break room felt so eerie with no one but Evan occupying it. Circular, grey tables stood accompanied by their matching chairs, vacant of anyone to fill the seats. Evan watched them carefully, convinced they’d move if he gave them too much leeway. When he was all alone in the break room, Evan felt like he was in a different dimension; one slightly altered, where there was the chance that chairs might move if not kept under surveillance. Maybe he was just sleep-deprived.

“Evan?”

Suddenly, the spell was broken and he was looking up at Jared with saucer-sized eyes. Jared was leaning against the door frame, looking at Evan skeptically. Jared took Evan’s silence as an invitation to keep talking as he strode into the room with a tactfully nonchalant hand in his back pocket. Always casual, disinterested Jared. Never too attached until Evan looked up at him with sleepy puppy-dog eyes. Jared gave him a small, wry smile, but the concern sat heavy between his eyebrows. “Everything okay?”

Evan nodded clumsily, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before forcing himself to speak. “Couldn’t sleep.” Jared placed a hand on Evan’s shoulder and the tension staking his spine dissolved. He leaned into the comforting weight of Jared’s hand, which was now giving Evan’s shoulder gentle squeezes. “Sorry, I guess it wasn’t really an emergency--”

“Nah, you’re cool,” Jared reassured him with such little thought that Evan thought his heart might burst. It was so easy to be friends with Jared. It was so easy to let his shoulders slump and put his anxiety on pause for a few hours.

Evan’s smile was stiff only due to lack of practice. The motion was genuine, though, and he reluctantly drew away from Jared’s touch so he could stand up. “Cool.”

“C’mon, store’s pretty much deserted. My shift’s over in, like, half an hour anyway."

Evan knew that, but didn’t say anything. It might have been creepy that he knew Jared’s work schedule so well, but he’d rather be a little creepy to himself than a lot creepy to whatever poor soul caught him sitting in the break room for an hour before realizing Jared wasn’t working that night.

His hands twitched. Bad thoughts. Those weren’t allowed in the grocery store. It was a rule Evan set up for himself. No crazy hypotheticals, no panic attacks, no self-deprecation (except in the form of jokes that made Jared’s lips press together to suppress a snort). The stillness of the empty grocery store was the one place Evan allowed himself total peace of mind. No one really came around in the early hours of the morning, despite the store being open 24/7. Not that Evan was complaining. Having the store entirely at Evan and Jared's disposal was strangely exhilarating.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” Evan demanded, quirking an amused eyebrow at how Jared was guiding Evan through the store with seemingly no destination.

Jared cracked his first grin of the night. “Evan Hansen,” he gasped in mock offense. “Do I look like the kind of man who gives in to the clutches of capitalism?”

“No,” Evan admitted. “You look like a twink who works at an Easy Mart and is about to get his ass fired.”

Now Jared was laughing, elbowing Evan in the ribs as affectionately as he could. “Shut up, asshole.” As they rounded the turn from one row of shelves to the next, the pair was met with an abandoned shopping cart, idling at the beginning of an aisle.

“Are you gonna put that awa-- Jared!”

Jared was climbing into the cart. It wobbled dangerously as he struggled to sling his short legs over the side, but once he was in, Jared turned back to Evan with an expectant expression.

There was no way Evan was going to push Jared down the aisle. It was too dangerous! Jared could get hurt, they could knock a whole shelf over! “Absolutely not,” Evan said firmly. Jared’s bottom lip dipped into a pout and he fluttered his eyelashes. Evan crossed his arms like a self-defense mechanism, but he could feel himself already wavering. “N-No way! It’s a terrible idea--”

“Please?” Jared purred, and Evan was done for.

With a huff, Evan uncrossed his arms and placed his hands firmly on the shopping cart’s handle bar. “Fine,” he conceded shortly. “But when you fall out and break your arm, I am so not signing your cast.”

“That’s such a low bl-- OH MY GOD!” In the middle of his sentence, Evan shoved the cart as hard as he could and sent Jared barreling down the aisle. Jared’s instinctive screaming soon dissolved into laughter and for a moment, Evan thought it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

That was until Jared crashed into a self checkout machine and the cart toppled over.

Evan’s mouth filled with apologies as he scrambled over to Jared, who was still grinning. “Oh my God, Jarebear, I’m so sorry, I didn’t expect it to-- I just thought-- Are you okay?”

Jared’s hand found Evan’s bicep, seemingly to steady himself until he gave it a squeeze. “Dude, you’re ripped.”

Unable to tell if it was a compliment or flirting, Evan opted to hide his face against Jared’s shoulder in response to that comment. Jared moved his hand from Evan’s bicep to the back of his neck, fiddling idly with the soft hair there. “I’m fine, I’m fine. Might’ve broke the checkout thing, though.”

Evan giggled into the fabric of Jared’s uniform and, rather than pulling away, nestled closer. He was starting to get sleepy and Jared rhythmically combing his fingers through his hair wasn’t helping. It was only after Jared’s hand stilled did Evan realize someone was in the store with them. Immediately, he sat up, face flushing at the intimate state he and Jared had been caught in.

In the most unfortunate turn of events, the people who caught Jared and Evan’s cuddle session were none other than the Murphy siblings.

“What the fuck are you two doing?” demanded the eldest of the pair, Connor. Evan couldn’t give a specific reason for  why  he hated Connor Murphy so much. He just really, really hated Connor Murphy. He was so stuck up, so rich, so  ungrateful  for everything his parents did for him. He thought he was better than everyone else and still had the nerve to be self-deprecating. It was infuriating.

Unfazed, Jared scooted away from Evan and stood up. “Hello, welcome to Easy Mart. How can I help you?” he deadpanned, clearly not interested in helping either Murphy sibling one bit. Evan followed suit, standing and hauling the shopping cart upright with him.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Zoe commented lightly, her cheeks flushed a soft pink, as if she’d just caught Evan and Jared having sex.

Jared gestured to his own chest, which bore an Easy Mart vest and matching ‘Hi, my name is: JARED’ pin. “Whatever would give you that idea?”

Evan shifted uncomfortably at Jared's side. "Wh-Why are you guys here?"

Apparently displeased that Evan had opened his mouth, Connor sneered. "What? Are we not allowed to shop here now that you and the missus have decided this is your property?"

"Connor found a cat!" Zoe interjected abruptly. Connor shot her a death glare, but she didn't falter. "A little stray kitten walked up to him while he was outside and we came here to buy it food."

As adorable as it sounded, Evan couldn't allow himself to think about Connor Murphy petting a kitten. "Oh. That's--"

“But, of course, you two have to be here,” Connor interrupted, clearly flustered. “Easy Mart is apparently the only place that lets its employees make out with their boyfriends on the job.” The thought of Jared being his boyfriend sent heat to Evan’s cheeks and a shiver up his spine.

Noticing his discomfort, Zoe surprisingly came to Evan’s rescue. “Shut up, Connor, you work at 7/11.”

Connor scoffed, affronted that his sister would compare him to the likes of Jared Kleinman. “I’m just saving up money so I can get out of our fucking hell house as soon as I graduate.” Zoe made a similarly offended noise and the siblings’ words dissolved into overlapping arguments.

It was uncomfortable to watch. Evan pressed closer to Jared as a means of comfort, who placed a hand on Evan’s bicep again. However, it was a gentler gesture -- one to keep him tethered in place instead of drifting into a more panicked mindset. “Could you guys not air out your dysfunctional family laundry right in front of us, maybe?” Evan whispered to Jared, who rewarded him with a snort.

Evan wondered if the small noise of approval was worth it when Connor’s eyes were suddenly trained on him. The siblings’ argument was forgotten as Connor stalked up to Evan. Though he was only an inch or two taller, Connor seemed to loom menacingly over Evan. “What was that, Hansen?”

All pride abandoned, Evan immediately shrunk into himself. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t-- I was-- You were just--”

“Oh, I was ‘just’? Just what, huh? Was I bothering you? Well, maybe it bothers me when I walk into a grocery store to find you and Kleinman making out on the fucking floor!”

“We weren’t making out!” Evan suddenly exclaimed, the near-screaming height of his voice shutting even Connor up. Unfortunately, Evan didn’t know when to shut up until it was too late. “Friends can be affectionate with each other! Not that you’d know, since you’ve got no friends and you wouldn’t know mutual affection if it hit you over the fucking head!”

Evan clasped a hand over his own mouth, as if he could somehow put the words back inside. Connor was stunned only for a moment before he shoved Evan, sending the latter stumbling backwards. “You don’t know shit about me, Hansen! You think you’re so fucking smart with your little comments, don’t you?”

“Stop--”

“Don’t you?”

“N-No--!”

“Fuck you!”

“Connor, that’s enough,” Jared suddenly intruded, pushing Connor back enough so he could wedge himself between he and Evan. “Get out.”

Connor wavered, debating whether he should keep arguing. He seemed to decide that it wasn’t worth it. “Fuck you guys,” he muttered once more before storming out of the store.

Zoe looked utterly exhausted. “I’m so sorry about--”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Jared assured her quickly. “D’you need me to drive you home?”

Zoe Murphy was the exact opposite of her brother. She had the prettiest smile Evan had ever seen. Her hair was soft and her cheeks were rosy. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and shook her head. “No, no. I should go calm him down… Thanks, though. Really.” She meant it. Evan could tell. “I’ll, um--” she mustered a crooked smile. “I’ll see you guys around.” She turned to leave, but hesitated, sending the boys another glance. "He's trying," she added, almost vacantly. So tired. "He's trying to get better. I'm really sorry about him."

Then she was gone.

Once Zoe left, Evan broke down. So much for his “no panic attacks” rule. Jared’s arms were sturdy around him, and clutching the back of his Easy Mart vest kept Evan from drowning in his own hysteria. Jared shushed Evan whenever he tried to babble out some incoherent apology. A hand was back in Evan’s hair and it made Evan double over into another fit of sobs from the genuineness of the gesture. “I got you,” Jared promised. “I’m right here.”

Evan was so lucky.

Once he was run dry of tears and utterly exhausted, Evan mumbled that he’d like to go home now, please. “Where’s your car?” he asked once they’d shuffled out into the parking lot.

Jared shrugged. “I was gonna take an Uber. C’mon, I’ll drive you home.” So, so lucky. Evan furled his hand into the fabric of Jared’s jacket, which had taken the place of the Easy Mart vest. “Tired?” Jared asked in response to Evan yawning into his hand. His eyebrow was quirked and his smirk was crooked, but it was overwhelmingly comforting.

Evan nodded, jerky and deliberate, much like a toddler. He climbed into the passenger seat while Jared took the wheel. As soon as he was in the comfort of his mother’s minivan, Evan slumped against the door and rested his head against the window. It was so dark outside. Evan peered over at Jared, who was illuminated by the sickly yellow car light.

“What’re you staring at?” Jared’s voice was so sweet. Evan could hardly breathe.

“Nothing.”

Jared shook his head and reached over for Evan’s hand. Evan gave it to him. He couldn’t imagine a scenario where he wouldn’t give Jared his hand.

“You’re such a weirdo.” There was no venom in the statement. It didn’t sting. Jared squeezed Evan’s hand. It was suddenly a lot less dark outside. “Let’s get you home, Ev."

[viollettes]

“Worthy”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The super soldier returns from a difficult mission, and you witness a side of Captain America that not many can or will see.

soundtrack: “Close to You” (Rihanna)

A/N: I wrote this a few months ago as a self-reminder that it’s okay to be sad and angry. Posting this is my way of letting that moment go. - j. x

“Well done, everyone. Today…” Tony lets out a heavy sigh and rubs his tired eyes. “Today was rough. But we did what we had to do,” he continues, his voice straining with effort. “Let’s get some rest, team.”

Steve waits until everyone shuffles into their respective suites to raise his arm and clap a hand on Tony’s shoulder, wincing at the pain the movement creates. “Hey, I’m going to head out for a bit… Clear my head,” he mutters.

Tony gives him an exhausted but bright smile. “Going to see (Y/N)?”

“Yeah… Yeah.”

“Take the autopilot car. You can’t take the bike in your current state. And it’s late.”

Steve shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Thanks, though.” He looks past Tony’s shoulder, making eye contact with Bucky. “Will you -”

The brunette super soldier shakes his head at him with a reassuring smile. “I’ll be okay. Go see her, man.”

Sending grateful nods at the two men, Steve backs up and heads to the garage, the light fading from his eyes until they’re dark and empty. He revs up the engine and rips through the dark of night. Tonight’s evening ride is different from previous rides because the bright lights of the city fail to cheer him up as he whizzes through the cars on the streets. The cathartic feeling of the wind whipping through his body doesn’t bring the comfort and thrill it normally does.

It’s only when he comes to a stop in front of the familiar apartment that the light slightly returns to his blue eyes. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Steve chains his motorcycle and clicks it locked. He pushes through the pain of the stairs, letting out a sigh once he finally stares at the dried rose wreath hanging on your door.

For the first time in a long time, a genuine smile cracks through Steve’s stony facade, and he poises his fist over the door.

- - -

Whenever Steve leaves for a mission, your heart kicks into overdrive.

He tries to assure you that he’s okay with an occasional heart or smiley face emoji message, but even that can’t calm the quick staccato beats of your heartbeat. You feel like you’re drowning in a quicksand of concern until you receive confirmation that he’s safe and sound.

Maybe your heart wasn’t meant for dating a superhero whose job and purpose had him constantly putting his life on the line. But it’s too late to do anything about it - you’re head over heels in love for the blonde super soldier, and for some reason he’s really in love with you too.

After tossing and turning for hours, you finally fall asleep while hugging the long body pillow. Only thirty minutes pass when a knock at your apartment door awakens you from your light slumber. You wrap a quilt around your shoulders and sleepily pad off to the door. You open the door, and a flurry of emotions pass over your face as you take in the battered form of Steve Rogers.

"Hi, babe," Steve lets out, his smile bright and boyish, trying his best to mask the pain and exhaustion.

You want to cry when you take in his injured form. Just by looking at his posture, you know his attacker used his spine as a keyboard and banged out an entire symphony. He's fully clothed, his stealth suit stained of blood and dirt, but you know his strong body will be a visual map of contusions and abrasions, colorfully highlighted in red and purple.

You want to ask him why he's here at 2am instead of the Avengers Towers. Steve shouldn't be here in his condition, he should be receiving medical attention under the monitoring of Dr. Banner.

But you don't cry, because it'll only worry him. You don't ask, because this man has the right to do what he wants after a strenuous mission. Instead you open your arms with a huge smile. "Hi, Stevie," you softly say. “I’m glad you’re back.”

A sigh of relief escapes his lips, and Steve quickly steps into your arms. "I needed to see you," he groggily admits, inhaling your scent as he winds his arm around you.

"Mmhm," you hum, gently kicking the door shut and carefully wrap your arms around his body, snuggling deep into his chest as he sinks into your body. You remain silent but allow your body language to communicate your thoughts.

I'm glad you're okay. I'm glad you're alive. Whatever it is, you'll be okay.

“How bad is it?” you finally offer after minutes of silence.

“I’ll be fine. Bruce took care of most of the injuries on the quinjet. It just looks worse than what it really is.”

“Tough night?”

“You have no idea,” Steve murmurs into your hair. He lets out another a long and dragged sigh, the end quivering with emotion.

Red alarms go in your head as the blonde tightens his grip. Something happened tonight, and while you’re slightly curious, you aren’t going to actively coax the reason out of him. Steve’s obviously in a sensitive state of mind, and you don’t want to poke and prod. Moments like this make you feel a little helpless. While you know he’ll never hold it over your head, you can’t help but feel apologetic for how much you can’t do for Steve.

And as if he’s read your mind, Steve pulls apart from the hug and gently taps your nose. “You’re enough, just the way you are, doll,” he huskily whispers. He chuckles as you blush and make a face. “Now,” he leans his forehead against yours, “all I want to do is take a hot shower and fall asleep with my girl.”

- - -

After scouring for the ultra-soft towel you bought specifically for Steve in your drawer, you head to the bathroom where you've set up a hot shower for the super soldier. The door is ajar, the light streaming into the hallway, and you stop in your tracks as you take in the view.

Steve stands fully clothed under the rushing water of the showerhead, the bathroom dimly lit. You can see his upper body spasming and jerking, making you wonder what's wrong. As you come closer to the door, you barely hear soft whimpering sounds, and you see his face glistened with freshly shed tears.

The whimpering grows louder, and soon Steve is desperately sucking in breath between sobs. His hot, salty tears flood his cheeks, dripping off his cheek and blending in with the hot shower water.

Without any apprehension or hesitation, you step into the shower, ignoring the odd sensation of wet wool sticking to your skin. You cautiously place a hand on Steve's back. When he doesn't protest, you take that as an invitation to slowly turn him around so he faces you.

Steve opens his mouth to say something, anything, but all that comes out are deep, gut-wrenching sobs that tear through his chest and convulsed his body. He drops to the floor, bringing you down with you, shaking and gasping.

"I couldn't save them all," he chokes, rocking back and forth. "There's so many I couldn't help. I'm supposed to be Captain America, the man who can do it all and protect everyone. I... I tried my best, but my best wasn't enough and -" Steve stares at you, his bloodshot eyes boring into yours. "How do can you love someone like me? Someone who's not worthy of being called a hero?" he demands, his voice desperately quivering towards the end of his sentences.

Struggling to find the right words, you resort to speechlessly sinking to the floor to bring him into your chest. One arm winds around his waist and another curves to the back of his head, gently stroking his wet blonde hair. Steve fully slumps into your embrace.

His beaten and battered form reminds you of what many people tend to forget - the man behind the red, white, and blue shield may be primed to be at the zenith of human potential, but he isn't invincible.

You know that Steve will be back on his feet tomorrow, cracking jokes at how lazy you are as he swaggers back into the bedroom from his too-early morning workout. He’ll fix you a quick breakfast and whisk off to work, but he’ll make sure he steals a sinfully delicious kiss from you. Despite the soreness from his injuries, Steve will head into meetings and trainings with a his signature professionalism.

After the Avengers clock off, he’ll steal away from the tower and come back to your apartment. Steve will wrap his strong arms around your waist and refuse to let you move while smothering your neck and face with kisses. When you sleepily note he should get back to the tower before it gets too late, Steve will coyly make an excuse about being too tired. He’ll throw you over his shoulder, chuckling as he ignores your giggles and yelps. He’ll fall asleep in your arms as you finish a chapter of your book.

He is Captain America, and he’s embodiment of American bravery and diligence. But he’s also Steve Rogers, the world’s best boyfriend and the man of your dreams.

While you want to bring up his admirable resilience as a way to comfort him, you figure it’s best to keep that silent for the time being.

So for now, you let him bury his head into your shoulder and release all of the inner, suppressed demons. You kiss the side of his temple and continue to tangle your fingers in his hair, allowing him to bask the cathartic feeling of the hot water beating down his back and the smooth stroking of his hair.

You were doing the right thing. It’ll be okay. I promise it’ll be okay.

You are worthy. You are so worthy. I love you. Ardently and dearly.