#I’ll be able to function for the rest of the day

[ohburrryoureabsolutelyridiculous]

If costume design isn’t at least nominated for an Oscar I’m suing.

oh my… emperor geta 😫

[maxivstappen]

THE GREATEST

[ part two / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ being in a relationship with a formula 1 driver like lando was hard, but not impossible. right? a story based on THE GREATEST by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst, swearing. i’ll write a part 2 if requested 𝄞 4.4k words

❝ I’m trying my best to keep you satisfied ❞

Loving a formula 1 driver, let alone being in a relationship with one, wasn’t easy. But that didn’t stop you. In fact, you were sure nothing was ever going to be able to get in between the love that Lando and you shared, the kisses and the late night cuddles, the fun family dinners and the celebrations of his milestones. Everything was so perfect.

Yes, sometimes it’s hard to meet his standards, sometimes having you leave your own family to go attend races with him, or the blatant flirting he would still be partaking in at after-race parties, it was definitely a flaw of your relationship, but maybe you should’ve just worn something prettier or done your makeup in a different way, in the end it’s your fault if his attention wasn’t keen on you, right?

But no matter what, you were ready to do it for him. He’s your main priority, just as he should be. That’s what makes a relationship a functioning one, doesn’t it?

❝ Let you get your rest while I stayed up all night ❞

Of course you weren’t always his main priority, but who were you to judge him? He’s a professional racing driver, it’s not only a job but a complete career, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world. Having a world championship under his belt, that was more important than you. You just have to live like that, someone had to put in the work for the relationship. And because it definitely wasn’t Lando, it was you. But you didn’t mind, you’d do it all over again for him. Because you truly loved him, and to you, there was nothing in this world stronger than love.

So when you both finally get home after a long race weekend, you don’t mind doing the cooking and cleaning and laundry for him. You also don’t mind him going to sleep while you’re up packing up luggage for him and you to depart for the next GP. You would’ve appreciated some skin contact after such a busy and nerve wrecking weekend, but if he needed rest, then he should have it. You could rest another time, maybe during the flight or while he was spending time with his friends. You weren’t sure why, but Lando always insisted on not having you with him, always making up excuses why you couldn’t come even if in reality, you were at “home” trying to get used to the new place you’d have to stay at for the next week. Maybe you would’ve preferred being with him, or having him with you, or being in your home country with your loved ones he was yet to meet, but that’s okay. He had his fun with his friends and their girlfriends, that’s what mattered.

Maybe he didn’t want you there because, while he dated a girl he’s known since forever, a girl who knew him before his win and his fame and his career, all the others were dating models and successful women. Maybe you embarrassed him a little bit, so you were understanding when he told you to stay at home. His fans didn’t exactly love you either, so actually, it was really thoughtful of him not to have you by his side when he went out, because then his fan base and the news wouldn’t be able to pick at every little flaw you had, which you had surprisingly lots of, as the media told you.

The clock read 5am when you finally finished packing up the luggage and went to bed yourself. Well, not the bed but rather the couch, because Lando had just previously told you not to wake him if he was already asleep, and who were you to rip him out of his peaceful slumber when he had so much pressure on him the last three days? It was a little cold, but that’s okay. It was just kinda difficult to fall asleep on the small, hard, uncomfortable couch.

The clock read 8am when you woke up to prepare breakfast for him and you.

❝ And you don’t wanna know how alone I’ve been ❞

You knew better than to complain. Of course you felt a little bit alone in the huge apartments while he was away, spending time at the track or in the gym with his friends. How could you not? You were in a country you’ve never been in before, a country with no familiar faces or friends or people you could talk to besides the McLaren team and well, your boyfriend. But in the end, Lando showed you the world. And you had to be grateful for that. Even if he basically just pushed you around the world and then picked you up again when it was time to travel farther. And god, how you missed your family. And how deeply you wanted them to meet your one and only love, Lando. It was sickening, the need to be at home again.

One time after a long day of qualifying, you told Lando about your homesickness and that you felt a bit alone on this journey.

He got mad and told you if you wanted, you could just leave. He’s not keeping you here. 20 minutes after, you were stood in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. Your response to “Are you actually fucking crying right now?” was a quiet “I was just cutting onions.”

His reply to “I thought we were eating together, I made dinner” was “I’m going out to eat with Charles and his girlfriend.”

You felt your heart break in that second, but he was just mad and not thinking straight. Outbursts are okay sometimes.

❝ Let you come and go, whatever state I’m in ❞

You spent the whole evening and night crying, putting his food in the fridge in case he was hungry later. The tears didn’t stop until he came back through the door, obviously a bit tipsy. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and told you how sorry he was, telling you that next time, he would take you with him to dinner. You knew it wasn’t true, and he knew as well.

At least you felt his touch again, his arms around you and his rough fingers caressing your cheek. That was worth the tears and the unappreciated cooking.

❝ Man am I the greatest? My congratulations ❞

Miami GP ‘24. Lando’s first win in his Formula 1 career. You were the proudest girlfriend in the world and you couldn’t wait to celebrate his win with him tomorrow, knowing he’d be busy partying with the others today. You’re in Miami, after all. And he has just won. Of course he had to celebrate that with his boys, surrounded by beautiful women and loads of alcohol. He would never cheat on you, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind being in the presence of some women who were gifted with a prettier face and body than you were. That’s okay, at least he doesn’t use you for your looks.

As he stood there on the highest step of the podium, smiling like a little kid who had just fulfilled his dreams, smiling like he once had smiled at you, it made you so incredibly happy and emotional and you couldn’t wait to finally see him and give him a big celebration kiss.

Once he was back in the paddock he told you to wait until the cameras were gone. You didn’t get a hug either. Not until you were back in the apartment.

At last. you got your hug and a kiss. As a goodbye before he left with Max.

❝ All my love and patience, all my admiration ❞

The day after, you woke up at 7, waiting for him to wake up while you were already up in the kitchen, baking a small cake with a “one” on it, all decorated in orange.

Even if you were left unsatisfied yesterday, that didn’t stop you from still feeling eternally proud of him, and proud to be able to call yourself his girlfriend. He was so dedicated to the things he loved, it was a pleasure to watch him go through life with his determination. Racing was his passion, there’s no shame in sometimes forgetting your girlfriend for it.

He finally entered the kitchen at 12, smiling at the small cake placed upon the dining table. “Surprise!” You said, and he immediately went to hug and kiss you, smiling just as brightly as he did on that podium. Moments like these were a reminder that he did in fact love you, and once again, that it’s all worth it.

❝ All the times I waited for you to want me naked ❞

You often wondered how the others managed to keep up their relationships.

Just recently you were having lunch with the other WAGs at a restaurant near the circuit. Originally, you didn’t want to come, still feeling insecure about what the media has to say about you, the ugly duckling around the most beautiful women in F1 history. However, they insisted. At the table the girls began talking about the party after Lando’s win, and how proud you must’ve been to see him on that podium. You loved talking about it, until you were asked why you didn’t come with him to the party. A lame excuse of “I was just tired and not feeling well” made the others look at you weirdly. How could she be so selfish and miss her boyfriend’s afterparty for that? Alex, Charles’ girlfriend smiled at you with a knowing look, but you pretended not to notice, feeling embarrassed.

The next topic at the table was rather intimate, and you wanted to puke right then and there. Were you really the only one who hasn’t been touched in so long, because there just wasn’t enough time between all the travelling and racing and exhaustion? Or were you just not good enough? Was it really your looks? Should you change?

You missed it dearly, the intimate times with Lando. The ones where he finally took care of you instead of the other way around, the ones where you could feel the connection between you two with all your senses. Was it your fault that these times stopped? Lando was so perfect, it just couldn’t be his fault.

Maybe you just had to wait until he wanted you again.

❝ Made it all look painless, man, am I the greatest? ❞

You didn’t show your feelings often, not your real ones. The times he had catched you crying for him on you knees were pathetic little situations he shouldn’t have seen you in. When asked, you denied. “Do you feel lonely in this relationship?” — “No.” “Does he make you cry often?” — “No.” “Do you think your relationship is slowly breaking apart?” — “No.”

Talking about it with the women around the paddocks or when you’d facetime your friends from home, you never once said anything bad about Lando. Never once complained about how he treated you or how he ignored your feelings and your endeavors. Not even your closest friends knew what was really going on, or maybe, you just didn’t know that yourself. In your mind, this was just a phase where his career just made it impossible for him to focus on you. Someday this would change. Sooner or later, it would change.

For everyone else, you had the greatest, perfect, flawless relationship. And you didn’t mind keeping that imagine up. For his sake.

❝ Doing what’s right without a reward ❞

And so it kept going. You making efforts, him abandoning you. No matter what you did for him, no matter how much heart and love you put in for him, it was left unappreciated. But that‘s okay, still. You were in a relationship, your only task was to love him, and you did. Because that‘s the right thing to do in a relationship, and for him, you‘d do anything. No matter if he appreciated it or not at the moment, you knew that, eventually, he would.

❝ And we don‘t have to fight when it‘s not worth fighting for ❞

At least you hoped that he would change someday, so far he obviously hadn’t, and it was slowly getting to you in a more serious manner. In a way that might worry you and the people around you, in a way you wouldn‘t forget. That one time you prepared dinner for the both of you and he went out with Charles and Alex instead, it was all forgotten in a matter of seconds when he apologized. But now every single interaction he had with other women haunted you, asleep or awake. No apology would help you actually think he would change his current treatment towards you, and as it seemed, he didn‘t care either.

There was no point in fighting anymore, no point in telling him how you feel whenever he walks out the door, leaving you alone with nothing but your awful thoughts. For fuck‘s sake, you left all you had behind to be there for him, and how does he show his gratefulness? He doesn’t, because he isn’t fucking grateful, and he couldn’t care less about you and your dumb feelings. He doesn’t care that you want nothing more than to finally be able to introduce him to your family, he doesn’t care that you gave up your own career for his, and he doesn’t care that while he’s treating you the way he is, all the people who knew the both of you and basically the whole internet was only picking you apart. Never him.

Oh you were such a shitty girlfriend refusing to kiss him in front of the cameras after his first win, but wasn’t he the one who pushed you away? And how could you miss the party that night, the party dedicated to your oh soo perfect boyfriend? Do you not care about him enough? Were you not proud? So many girls would trade their life for a day in your shoes, and you just didn’t appreciate that? What a disappointment you are to the WAGs, and what a disappointment you must be to Lando.

“Lando please, listen to me,” — “No, I’m done with your insufferable complaining all the time. I meant it the first time I said it and I mean it now, if you wanna leave, leave.”

❝ And you don’t wanna know what I would’ve done, anything at all, worse than anyone ❞

You would’ve walked through fire for him to love you again. For everything to go back like it once was. When he would brag about you to his friends and even in interview, when he took you to hang out with his friends and to parties, always keeping an arm around your shoulders so other guys wouldn’t even dare to look at you, when he was so eager to fulfill not only his, but also your dreams, wether that be a simple one, like him meeting your parents in your childhood home, or the greater ones, like becoming not only a good, but a great graphic designer. When he would watch you draw and perfect yet the smallest details with nothing but the growing admiration for you visible in his eyes. When he would kiss you good night and good morning, when he would ask about your day and passionately tell you about his. Back to when he had loved you. But now it was too late. All the things you had done for him, all the things you would probably still do, in the end, were for nothing more than a broken heart.

The sleepless nights. The nerve wrecking days. The painful parting from your family and friends. The abandonment of the life with him you had so desperately wished for.

It was all for nothing.

❝ I loved you, and I still do. Just wanted passion from you, just wanted what I gave you ❞

Last day before the summer break, the last race. And probably, the last day of him and you.

You were done with his shit, the sad look on your face visible to everyone in the room as you sat and watched the race from the McLaren hospitality, his parents seated next to you. Something felt very off, your usual happy and optimistic demeanor completely washed off, replaced by a dark, almost expressionless look. They sensed that something might have happened between Lando and you, but nobody dared to ask, too busy watching the intense race.

The outcome was disappointing, Lando finishing behind Max, the one he’d have to beat to win the championship. The team and the people inside the paddock and the hospitality clapped for him and Oscar anyway, with Oscar finishing second and Lando fifth. You cheered and smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You knew what was to come once you’d be back in the hotel. You were scared, sure it would be the most painful thing you’d ever have to do, putting all the things you’d done for him, all the things he’d done to you, in its shadow.

The celebration went well, again, no hug or kiss for you. You were sure his mother had even scolded him for it, but that wasn’t important anymore. You didn’t really care anyway, the media would run their mouths about you anyway, and Lando surely doesn’t give a shit either way. You desperately needed an answer, you wanted him to explain it to you. What had suddenly happen, what did you do wrong, for him to suddenly act like this? And if he fell out of love, then why couldn’t he just tell you?

Meanwhile Lando was busy celebrating Oscar‘s podium, taking pictures for the McLaren instagram account and whatnot, then doing the post race interviews.

He loved you, he really did. But he just didn’t see you as someone he wanted to spend this life with. He couldn’t imagine living his private life without you by his side, he wanted you to come with him to visit his family at home, to come with him when he would meet up with Max and the others during summer break or really, he wanted to just do nothing with you, nothing but share small kisses and cuddling on his couch at home, eating some homemade food and drinking a glass of wine together. At the same time, he thought that you didn’t fit in. Not in this life.

You met when he wasn’t yet the person he is now. When he was still passionate about so many other things other than just racing. Of course this had always been a part of him, but so were you. And now its just racing that occupied his mind, no single corner in his head left for his girlfriend. He knew it hurt you, but at the same time, part of what the media had to say about you was true. The first season he had spent with you by his side, the internet was already raging about how you weren‘t the typical WAG, and how they thought seeing you next to someone like a Kelly Piquet, you did seem a little weird. Lando didn’t want to be confronted with these opinions anymore, so instead of standing up for you, he decided to ‘hide‘ you. To not put you in the center of attention after a race to hug and kiss you, to just let you stand there and wait until you were inside where no one could see you. He also avoided reading anything the internet had to say about you, so the fact that his plan had only made you gain more and more hate, went unnoticed. Just like your complaints when he didn’t want to be seen with you after races at parties or even in a restaurant for dinner with Charles and Alexandra. Of course they had invited the both of you, and not only him. Lando came up with an excuse so he the paparazzi wouldn’t see you. The rumor that Lando and you have broken up after he was seen at dinner alone didn‘t seem to bother him either, but it did you. He thought you liked it this way, as he thought, without any hate comments about your looks or the way you’d dress compared to the others. He thought you appreciated not having to dress up for parties or the countless hangouts with his friends. He thought you cried that night after he was out for dinner because you cooked for him and he just went out, not that you cried because you felt not good enough for him to want you to come with him.

He really was stupid enough to think you were happy with all of this.

And while he was happy to be able to finally spend his summer break with you and only you, it all came crashing down when you were back in your shared apartment. Tears were forming in his eyes while yours were already streaming down your face as you yelled at him, telling him every yet so small detail that left your heart crushed and broken while he was busy „hiding you“, or as he explained it to you, „protecting you.“ this wasn’t protection, this was blatant ignorance. And finally in this relationship, you did something for yourself. You left.

Maybe it was miscommunication, or him refusing to communicate at all. But that didn‘t matter now, ‘cause now, it was over. No more kisses, no more cuddles and no more meeting friends or families. But most importantly, no more crying, no more sleepless nights, no more unappreciated support, no more hiding.

❝ I waited and waited ❞

Finally at home, your family had expected to see you with Lando by your side, and they were so very excited to finally be able to meet the guy their lovely daughter was head over heels for, using every chance she had to gush over him and how unbelievably proud she was of him. So when you stood there with puffy eyes and all your luggage placed next to you, they knew the tears you cried weren’t happy tears from finally behind home again. They were tears from saying goodbye to the life you were ready to spend with your boyfriend, who was now on the other side of the world.

You knew it was stupid, but you couldn‘t help waiting for him to reach out to you again. A call or a message, hell, you hoped he was as miserable without you as you were without him so that maybe Max or even Oscar had to contact you again. Despite all the times he had hurt you, you missed him so dearly.

But after months and months of waiting, you decided that there was no use in waiting. It’s over, and its for the better, it has to be.

It was gonna be hard seeing him again, once the summer break is over. Even if the love between Lando and you ended, your love for Formula 1 didn’t, and you weren’t about to give that up just for the sake of not having to see him. You‘d be in the stands or in front of the TV, he‘d be in his car or in front of the camera. No point in worrying. But still, the first few races, you watched curled up next to your best friend and your parents from home. It was so nice to finally be able to see everyone again, everyone you had to miss all these months you were away. Your dad and you used to always watch races together, and you were more than grateful to finally be able to do exactly that again.

❝ Man am I the greatest? God, I hate it, all my love and patience – Unappreciated. You said your heart was jaded, you couldn’t even break it, I shouldn’t have to say it … ❞

His instagram and twitter definitely make it seem like your broken heart doesn’t match his perfectly fine one. He seemed happier than ever, having fun with his friends at parties and driving around different towns with different girls. Seeing him was draining, but how were you supposed to never hear about him again when the entire internet was screaming his name? You wanted your life to finally feel easier now, but it seemed to only get harder.

You felt you lost your soulmate, while he only lost his greatest burden.

It wasn’t until you watched the first race after the summer break with your dad that it all came flooding back to you. Lando crossed the finish line first, and as the camera switched to show him get out of his car and rip off his helmet to kiss his new girlfriend that looked weirdly similar to you, surrounded by loud cheers, clapping and ecstatic, smiling faces, you realize that maybe, he really didn’t love you. And that he didn’t *want* to kiss you after his races, because it seems that if he had wanted to, he would’ve.

At the same time, even while standing on the highest step of that podium, Lando couldn‘t help but think about you, how stupid he was to treat you like a piece of shit when all you wanted was to be there for him after races like this one and most importantly, why the hell no girl he‘s been with after your breakup felt even remotely close to you. You were the greatest thing he‘d ever had, no trophy, no price would ever compare, and he managed to take it all for granted.

If he had just put in a little more effort, really, you could’ve been the greatest .

[earlysunshines]

sunshine girl

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you are not a morning person and danielle is an everything person—after working with her you start to like mornings a little more, or maybe just her.

warnings: grumpy x sunshine kinda?? ; reader is hyein's cousin ; soobin from txt and rest of nwjns mentioned ; pining and slowburn, like.. slooowburn ; sooo much fluff like soooooo much… ; loool anything else i didn't mention? ; barely proofread

a/n: fell in love w dani, caved, wrote... dreamy sigh... dani…

there is no universe or alternate reality with a twisted, psycho version of that you enjoys mornings. 

there is no way that you’d deliberately get out of bed just to hear the birds chirping and get up to open the curtains or whatever it is that morning people do to enjoy the grueling hours of 7 - 11am. 

do people actually do this? get up at 7am willingly without benefitting from it? the only reason you’re up is because you need that paycheck to keep you going. the image of the little envelope with your name on it and what you’ve earned renders you awake, at least awake enough to get yourself in the shower, dressed up, and ready to go for opening – you’ve never opened, and even worse, you’ve never met any of the staff that opened either. they can’t be worse than the closers, can they?

as you look in the mirror of your car, it’s palpable that the morning air hates you. your eyes are a little puffy, slight eyebags are visible, and your blinking is slower. you’ve got to get through this, it’s the only way to fit work into your schedule since your classes are all later in the day. 

when you arrive, there’s already someone in your unassigned but basically assigned parking spot – you frown as you back up into a different place. 

after you shift your car to park and check the time, realizing you only have five minutes left before you need to clock in for a six-hour shift, you close your eyes and let your body go limp against the seat. 

–

danielle’s head perks up when she hears the door opening. she halts her wiping of the coffee maker, then turns to see an unfamiliar face – a grin automatically finds its way to her lips.

“hi! you must be y/n?” it’s eight in the morning, you’re barely functioning, and you’re already hit with an overly enthusiastic, excited ray of sunshine; you can’t take the energy, not at this hour.

“yeah.” you respond bluntly, danielle isn’t really phased with the lack of energy that’s being thrown back. “you are?”

she answers with hands clasped together, “danielle! but my friends call me dani.” 

you’re not calling her dani, you aren’t her friend, and she’s just your coworker. 

you walk behind the counter and put your bag inside the cabinet, then grab your apron and put it on. when you turn to the side, you’re met with a shorter woman, her curious eyes, the beauty marks on her face, and a big smile. she puts her hand out and you shake it hesitantly. 

“it’s nice to meet you y/n! have you ever worked mornings?”

“no,” you mumble, unlinking your hands. “only closing shifts.”

“ahh, must be different? i’ll get you situated. i’m excited to work with you!” she says, then walks past you towards the door to the kitchen. she pauses before explaining, “the employees in the back take care of all the pastries other than the croissants and cookies, so we make them over here. i’m going to grab the premade dough and whatnot, you stay here– oh! and could you wipe down the machine? and then just run water for the espresso machine to get the pucks ready.”

you nod at her and she smiles again. you rub your eyes as she leaves your sight, fighting the urge to take a power nap on the counter.

–

the whole morning you’re in charge of drinks right until it hits two in the afternoon. luckily, you’re more fond of being stuck in your corner where the espresso machine is rather than taking orders and socializing with the customers – you wouldn’t be able to greet them as enthusiastically as danielle does with each and every one of them.

you don’t know how she does it.

there's another guy—soobin—who comes in an hour after you. he's a little older, quieter, but all smiles and talkative when it comes to danielle. even as you make drinks and keep to yourself, you can tell danielle's energy is contagious. hearing her and soobin chat freely as they restock pastries and bread makes you wonder if your mornings can be as bearable. if they can do it, maybe you can too.

soobin leaves an hour later than you and danielle, waving to both of you as you two walk out the bakery. 

you fish for your keys and start to walk towards your car, but then your head turns when you hear your name called out. turning around, you spot danielle waving to you, which urges you to stop in your place.

“hey y/n, i just wanted to say that it was nice working with you! i’m looking forward to more shifts with you, have a great rest of your day alright?”

paused in place, you struggle to form words, but you manage to respond a little bluntly, “thanks, i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“bye the way!” she plays with her fingers, “you’re super pretty.” 

caught by surprise, you pause for a moment, clutching the strap of your bag a little tighter as your ears start to warm.

“thank you.”

danielle grins again, and oddly enough, you really like how warm and smiley she is. she's like a beam of sunlight turned into a person. she waves once more before walking in the opposite direction, leaving you replaying the whole interaction in your head the rest of the way to your car.

a small smile finds its way to your lips as you sit in your seat, strangely enough.

–

minji is scribbling in her sketchbook when her roommate walks in, looking a little more giddy than usual.

“dani, hey.” minji greets her, smiling when she does. “how was work?”

“great!” danielle beams, right before plopping down next to her roommate on the couch. “there’s a new member – well, she’s not new, but she just switched to working mornings. today was her first shift with soobin and i, and she’s really good at making the drinks, better than when yeosang was on drink duty.”

“that’s great to hear dani.” minji responds, watching her roommate relax against the cushion. “new coworker seems nice.”

“yeah but,” danielle frowns a little, “she’s not that talkative. she has a tough shell, i really want to know her! she’s really pretty too, like gorgeous, stunning– wow.”

minji quirks a brow. “gorgeous?”

“yes! like, wow, i was taken aback. she looked tired too, but i’ve been tired and i’ve never looked that effortlessly wonderful. i mean, she was making drinks most of the time so she never faced me much. even then, the side of her face is nice and she’s just great to look at.” 

danielles roommate narrows her eyes at her. “right.”

–

the next morning you’re downing two shots of espresso like it’s vodka. danielle watches the whole thing with concern etched into her brow.

“are you okay y/n?” danielle questions, “espresso is strong, how do you do it?”

you nod at her and mumble, “it’s fine.” before you continue to clean the counter, not turning to face her. she frowns at you; danielle will get through that shell. 

soobin is in half an hour later, grinning at danielle as he puts his apron on and saying “hi” to you as well. you respond with a forced smile before plopping the last batch of cookies in the small oven on the counter. 

as soon as soobin is done taking the first few customers, leaving you to finish their drinks, danielle pulls him by the sleeve away from you.

“dani? what is it–”

“let’s go bag the pastries, come.”

“um, okay?” he walks over towards the shelves with her, putting on some gloves before asking, “why are you being so strange?”

“i want to get closer with y/n.” she says with a pout. 

“is that all?” soobin questions her–and this strange behavior. “i think she’s just timid.”

“you were timid too, but it took two hours into the shift for us to start talking about hedgehogs.”

“well, i like hedgehogs. you have to find out something you two like.”

danielle sighs defeatedly. “she barely responds to me unless it’s work-related!”

“you’ve got to give her time, people are different. she’s probably not a morning person? and maybe she sees this as just her job, maybe she doesn’t want to interact with others.”

danielle watches you from where her and soobin are after hearing you call out the name of the order. you hand it over to the elderly woman, who thanks you warmly and it earns a small, genuine smile from you. danielle finds your smile lovely, especially the small dimples on your cheeks that form. 

“you’re going to help me out, okay? we have to warm up to her.”

soobin sighs before bagging a cream bun. “okay.”

–

it’s painfully slow for a few minutes, so you walk out from behind the counter to fix up the pastries that the various customers have disordered. 

danielle follows and you jump when you turn to see her beaming at you. “hi!”

“danielle,” you tighten your jaw. “hi.”

“it’s slow on wednesday mornings, most people are already at work.”

“i figured.” you reply as you close the packaging for the rice doughnut.

“so, how are you this morning?”

“i’m fine, um, how are you?”

danielle smiles; the conversation is flowing in the tiniest bit, but still, it’s something. “just tired, i had a lot of work to do because one of my professors loves to assign things last minute, i stayed up quite late. are you in college too? i kind of guessed that we’re around the same age.”

“i just started my second year.” you answer.

she jumps a tiny bit to show the excitement over a commonality, you think it’s adorable.

“really? me too! what are you studying?”

“english and creative writing–” you cut yourself off when you catch a mother and her daughter in the corner of your eye, shutting down the conversation immediately when they start to walk towards the register. 

you throw a small smile at them and greet them warmly before tak ingtheir orders. danielle huffs, but she’s shining again once she’s realized that your shell has chipped just barely.

–

you don’t work fridays or the weekend, danielle has already been aware of that after checking the schedule. it would be weird in the eyes of, well, many people, but she checks everyones schedule just in case any mishaps occur, danielle is considerate beyond measure.

she’s attentive and notices many things – she’s like that with everyone, but you? you’re different.

sure, she’s attentive to the way soobin stumbles over the small bump under the door to the kitchen each time he has to grab something from the back, how he jumps each time the phone rings, and how often he bags the pastries backwards. with you, however, she notices a lot, she learns. 

two weeks after you two start working together, danielle has managed to learn three things about you.

one: you laugh whenever soobin slips up – or really any little mishap that happens with him (which occurs often) – but you always try to conceal your amusement. two: as soon as noon hits, you’re much more awake, which is when danielle sparks more conversation with you. and three: you both go to the same university, and you don’t know this, but she figured that out before you even told her after catching you in the dining hall from afar.

it’s not easy to miss something – or someone – that stands out so boldly, especially if it’s your charming visuals.

her job used to be something that she’d get done and enjoy while it lasted, but now that you’re thrown into the mix, a new challenge and person is clouding her mind throughout her days. she’s so tuned in to everything about you, for some strange reason. and one afternoon, the rare moment she loses focus – attention slipping away in the heat of a rush – danielle bumps into you, spilling a small cup of hot coffee all over your hand. 

you gasp loudly, clutching your hand and biting down on your teeth as tears start to form. “fuck–”

“y/n!” danielle almost yelps, earning the attention from the customers in the shop. “oh my gosh–” she places the cup on the counter before grabbing your wrist and running it under cold water. somehow, her holding your wrist seems to burn more. “i’m so so sorry, y/n are you okay? i’m so–”

you shake your head and push her hand away from your wrist, wiping away the small tear in the corner of your eye. “it’s fine, it was an accident. you should go help soobin out, there’s a long line.”

she can’t tell if you’re mad at her, it breaks her heart. the tone of your voice is always so hard to decipher, and as much as she wants to stay there and help you out – probably with another string of apologies – you have a point, she should do her job, but you’re burnt. danielle is much more worried about you rather than making money in the moment.

but still, your look and tone sends danielle back to the register, and before she tends to the customer, she looks back at you, pouting a little.

–

as soon as you reach the door to the drivers side of your car, you feel a tap on your shoulder. 

turning around, you’re met with danielle.

“did you need something?” you ask her, tilting your head.

“no, i just wanted to apologize for burning your hand, i’m so sorry.” 

you shake your head. “it’s alright, it was a mistake.” 

“yes, but still, can i make it up to you with coffee or pastries?”

“danielle,” you catch yourself and danielle by surprise when a small giggle slips out. you clear your throat before continuing, “we work at a bakery, i can always treat myself to both of those without charge.”

“well, i really want to make it up to you.”

“you’re really sweet, but it’s alright.” you catch your coworker off guard with the sudden compliment, there’s a small flush that spreads across her cheeks. “besides, my hand feels better.” you show her your hand, putting it out in front of her, it’s still red and swollen. “it’ll heal more. i’ll see you tomorrow, alright? get home safe danielle.”

danielle can’t really respond to you after that, you’re already waving to her once more before heading to your car. she watches you glance down at your hand, gently holding it as you do so. the guilt in her starts to grow even more.

–

hanni watches danielle storm into the house, rub her face with both hands, and plop onto the couch like she’s just gotten rejected by someone as if she were in some type of romance drama. 

“dani? what is up with you–”

“i’m a terrible person! my coworker probably hates me– i’ve been trying to warm up to her these past two weeks and then i go and burn her!”

hanni’s eyes widen, her brows raise, and her jaw drops. “you burned your coworker?”

with tired eyes and a bedhead, minji appears from the hall in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants. she groans as she runs a hand through her hair, squinting her eyes. “what’s with all the noise? i’m trying to nap…”

“dani burned her coworker.”

minji’s a little more awake now, tilting her head. “the really pretty one?”

“yes!” danielle groans into the cushion, the bottom of her palms covering her eyes as she lies there defeatedly. when she takes her hands off her face, she opens her eyes to see minji and hanni hovering over as they stand, awaiting an explanation. “i’m a terrible person.”

hanni moves danielles legs over so that she can sit on the couch, putting her legs on her lap as the younger woman loses it. minji sits on the opposite end, putting her legs over on hanni’s lap as well and resting her head against a pillow.

“okay well why are you a terrible person?”

“i spilled hot coffee all over my coworker’s hand! gosh, i tried to apologize and everything, i even offered to compensate for the damage and she declined! y/n has to hate me…”

hanni looks over at minji to pout, then looks back at danielle. “hey, it was a mistake. what did she say?”

“well, she was really normal about it as if i didn’t just burn her hand, she brushed it off like it was nothing. i offered to have coffee with her or share some pastries but then she giggled and was all like ‘you’re really sweet but it’s okay’ and i don’t know, what if burning her hand makes her talk to me less and she hates me forever and–”

“dani.” minji butts in, making the younger one quiet down. “you made her laugh and she said you’re really sweet.”

“and?”

“and?” minji groans, sitting up on her elbows now. “dani, she said you’re really sweet. why wouldn’t she want to talk to you?”

“because i burned her? or maybe i’m annoying and talk too much but i really can’t help it-”

hanni puts a finger to danielles lips, dramatically shushing her. minji laughs at the action before hanni butts in, “dani, first of all; you’re not annoying. second; you’re literally the greatest person ever and i love you and if you ever stopped talking so much i’d have to i don’t know, die?”

minji snorts. “the hell?”

“what i’m saying is no one could ever hate you and honestly if she does; she’s not worth your time. plus, you shouldn’t waste your energy on someone who doesn’t appreciate you. you’re wonderful bro.” danielle’s eyes soften as she looks at hanni, and minji’s bottom lip protrudes from how sweet her words are. hanni sits danielle upright and puts both hands on her shoulders. “how about this: minji and i go visit you at work tomorrow and we’ll be the judge of your coworker.”

“you’d do that for me?”

hanni nods. “yes, but also please hook us up with some free pastries and drinks because i have to do a wrap around on this whole lecture so let's see it as an exchange, but also i love you dani and don’t want you losing your mind over this woman.”

“and i’ll be the judge of whether or not your coworker is as gorgeous as you think.” minji adds teasingly.

danielle smiles from ear to ear, making a small little noise as she pounces on hanni and hugs her like she’s her savior. minji laughs at the sight, smiling as well. 

–

you park near your cousin’s highschool, you always pick her up after opening shifts since the time aligns perfectly. you send a text to your cousin to let her know you’re there and your burnt hand sits on the wheel, so you take a few moments to examine it as you wait for a response.. 

minutes pass before your cousin arrives, knocking on the window and grinning at you, breaking you out of your small daydream.

“hi y/n, sorry i came so late, my teacher was being an ass.”

“language hyein.” you scoff, knowing damn well you curse like it’s your second language. hyein gets into the passengers seat and steals your phone, putting on a song as you start to drive again. “anyway, how was school?”

“oh god, it was so draining today. i swear my physics teacher wants me dead.”

“this is why you don’t take physics as a sophomore.”

“well someone won’t help me.” hyein rolls her eyes playfully, making you giggle. “anyway, school was just school. how was work?”

“it was alright, i kinda– well, my coworker spilled coffee on me. burned my hand a little but it’s not too bad.”

“the tall one? soobin? or was it the pretty one, your little work crush?” she raises her brows knowingly, smirking. 

hyein is one of very few people who you let loose around. despite your age gap, she’s your cousin, and your favorite one too. ever since you moved to live with her and her parents for school, you’ve gotten closer, spending hours rambling and practically getting glued to by the hip. she knew everything about you and what you felt.

she knew how you felt about your morning shifts; you coming home with a smile on your face after work was different. you dreaded work and the people you worked with for closing, all some stupid braindead men that you had to order around half the time. danielle and soobin were far from that. the duo eased your worries and actually did their job relatively well, you were able to do what you loved – stay stuck in the corner making all of the drinks – without worrying about the bakery. it was a breeze, you loved teh switch to mornings other than waking up at a time that has you quiet, moody, and only functioning after at least two shots of espresso.

hyein also knew about the interest you had in your new coworker danielle. you’ve never rambled about someone this much, calling her sweet, lovely, nice – not to mention the whole tangent regarding her eyes and pretty smile. hyein watched you chastise yourself for being so distant and avoidant because of your moods in the morning, comforting you for not being able to form decent bonds and friendships because of how early you had to get up.

you grip the wheel a little tighter. “danielle, it was an accident though.”

hyein eyes you. “so the pretty one.”

“her name is danielle.”

“point proven! you don’t just recognize your coworkers by how attractive they are you know…” hyein teases, “sometimes you talk about her and i wonder if my older cousin can finally be a normal person that’s capable of having a crush on someone.”

you keep your eyes on the road, but use your right hand to push her head playfully and ruffle her hair, earning a whine. 

“just because i think someone is pretty does not mean i like them. you’re so young, you don’t know shit about crushes and romance.”

“stop cursing.” hyein warns. the light turns red and you step on the break, then turn to look at her with raised brows. hyein laughs and cocks her head, giving you stupid puppy eyes. “i know when someone likes someone, or at least when they start to. you think she’s pretty but in a way that sounds like you’re an admirer.”

“what?”

“you tell me you can’t talk to her and look at her sometimes? y/n im sixteen, but im also not new to having crushes, ive been there. you like her.”

“do you want to walk home?”

hyein pouts, crossing her arms and making you laugh in the process. “youre no fun.”

“whatever.” you mumble.

when the two of you get home, hyein steals your keys to open the door to the house. she gets in first, obviously eager to do whatever it is that she’s up to after school — probably calling her friends or laying in bed.

you walk over to the kitchen and run your burnt hand under cold water, clenching your teeth slightly when you feel the stinging. 

in the drawer near you, there’s the first aid kit, over the counter tablets, and other health related items. you rummage through to find the burn relief cream, leaning against the countertop as you twist the cap open. you squeeze out a line of the cream that extends down to the base of your pointer finger, then you begin to rub your reddened skin. 

your thoughts drift to the moment of when you burned yourself—well, when danielle burned you. she had this look in her eyes, so pure and so regretful that it made you feel bad. 

she was so sweet with the offer, she’s ways so lovely. she’s honestly adorable. the way the words rushed out of her, the small pout on her lips and the fact that she offered to make it up to you. every nerve in your body wanted to accept the offer, but danielle shouldn’t have to pay or spend time on something to make things up to someone like you. it was a mistake after all. 

then your thoughts drift elsewhere, from the whole burnt-hand incident and then to the person who burned you–to danielle. she’s bubbly in the mornings and although you used to hate that, her smile and greetings started to wake you up a little more. the crinkle of her brow every time she catches you downing shots of espresso always makes you suppress a laugh, the expression is so adorable and she’s just so—

“stupid hyein,” you sigh to yourself.

youve been absentmindedly rubbing the burn-relief cream in the same spot for almost a minute, all because of your coworker taking over your thoughts. you begin to rub the rest of your hand and add another dot of cream to the lower area of your hand.

hyein’s called you out multiple times for having an alleged crush on your coworker, but you’ve always dismissed it. however, the words she’s said to you before ring in your head in the moment. you crease your brows and purse your lips subconsciously.

“maybe you can’t talk to her because you’re attracted to her and not because it’s 8 in the morning.” hyein shrugs, looking at you as you sit lazily on the couch. she’s lecturing you after another ramble about your day, the mere mention of danielle prompting her to quote on quote ‘educate you’ on what love is. “you talked to your friends perfectly during morning classes from what you’ve told me, maybe you’re just all shy and blushy and—“

you smack the palm of your hand on your forehead to stop yourself from thinking of that memory of you and your cousin.

“i don’t have a crush on danielle… what is she thinking?” you mumble to yourself. you halt your actions after the realization that you’ve just talked to yourself hits. you press a hand to your cheeks, feeling a weird warmth from your skin, making you shake your head and groan. “i can talk to her fine… just fine.”

 —

“morning!” danielle beams as she catches you walking in. you manage to shoot a small smile, danielle likes that you’ve been giving her more of those.

you put your bag in the cabinet, then put on your apron. without turning to face her, you start to speak, “danielle?”

she almost jumps, not expecting you to even interact with her. maybe you needed help with something? or a question regarding the new breakfast pastries.

“y/n, did you need something?”

you shake your head. “no, i just, um— how are you this morning?”

danielle pauses, you turn to meet her eyes and blink as you wait for an answer. your coworker short circuits momentarily before stumbling over her words as she responds, “oh, i’m— i’m great! tired of course, you know with school and all. thank you for asking y/n.”

“did you get enough sleep?” danielle looks at you after you ask that, wondering where all of this friendliness is coming from. she’s not against it though, maybe you’re just awake this morning.

“i tried to get as much as i could.” she says, then smiles. “is your hand okay?”

“it’s fine. i put ointment on it and it’s like nothing happened.” you assure.

without any warning, you disappear into the back, probably looking for dough to bake. danielle is still stuck in her place, blinking a few times before she runs the espresso machine. she wonders for a moment, furrowing her brow at the rare interaction that you started. but then, she’s grinning to herself just thinking about it all.

danielle wonders: maybe you don’t hate her, maybe her roommates were right. 

—

you hear a bundle of voices, three to be exact.  when you look up from the steam wand, you’re met with three women that all look your age—they all probably go to your university, or maybe the other one that’s also close by.

one of them walks up to the register, soobin greets them, but their attention seems to be on you for a bit.

“hi, is danielle here?” one asks. 

soobin nods, still looking at the screen of the register. “yeah, she’s in the back. did you need her?”

“we’re really close with her, could you grab her?”

soobin nods again, humming in response before he walks over to the door leading to the back. 

you continue to make the cappuccino that an older lady ordered a few minutes ago, creating a small lavender looking design with the steamed milk and pushing it out on the counter. 

“for park!” you call out, the lady comes up to the counter in seconds and smiles at you. she pats your shoulder and it makes your heart warm knowing she’s happy with it.

the three girls from before, they continue to eye you from the register until danielle is back, and when she returns, she starts squealing at the sight of them.

“you guys really came!” danielle beams, immediately reaching over to hug them as best as she can with the counter in the way. “what pastries did you all want? oh! i can also grab you drinks.”

the one with bangs nods, then orders for all of them. “mmm i’ll have an iced vanilla latte, minji wants a hot tea and haerin just wants a cookie and iced tea. you know she’s out early today? oh my god, as soon as we heard we scooped her up immediately-“

the rest of their conversation doesn’t process in your head as you start with the drinks. you had just put the puck in the machine, twisted it in place and started to pull the espresso before you feel a tap on your shoulder.

danielle meets your eyes and you feel yourself soften up a bit. 

she tugs on the cloth covering your shoulder just a bit before she speaks. “hey.”

“hi?” 

“can i introduce you to my roommates and our friend? you wouldn’t mind? would you?”

“oh, no— but i’m kind of… making one of their drinks right now.”

“oh, sorry— wait what?  i was going to make them—“

“well since they’re you’re friends i think they’d appreciate their drinks out earlier. and it’s okay, don’t be sorry danielle. i’ll do whatever if it’s not busy and when i’m done.” you swear you see a little more pink on her cheeks than usual, stronger than the blush she wears—you could be wrong.

“right, yeah, do your job!”

you stifle a giggle and purse your lips to conceal your smile, ultimately failing. danielle’s tone and mood are contagious sometimes.

(all the time.)

when you’re finished with the drinks — danielle had lingered nearby here and there as you made them — you placed them on the little counter for danielle to pick up. she had smiled at you, mouthed a “thank you,” and rushed over to sit down with her friends. 

it wasn’t busy at all, the only other customers in the bakery had been a corporate man that soobin was tending to. the man bought a loaf of milk bread and ordered a brewed coffee, soobin could handle all of that. he will handle all of that.

danielle sits with her friends at the table, giggling as she does so and looking as happy as ever. there’s a weird flutter in your stomach, like someone poking you there from the inside and it’s not that it hurts, it’s just odd. 

pretending to busy yourself is something you’re really good at doing, and plus, it’s a great way to excuse your glances toward danielle as she talks to her friends. she’s really smiley and giddy, it’s the cutest thing ever.

a few minutes pass and you’re still bagging some items, daydreaming as you do so. 

(danielle seemed to pop up here and there, strangely enough.

here and there turned into her being the star of the dreams.)

you’re in your own world until a faint “hey y/n!” is muttered into your ear, making you jump and almost elbow your pretty coworker.

“did i startle you? i’m so sorry—“ danielle starts, but you’re quick to cut her off as soon as she begins to apologize. 

“no, no. sorry i was in my own world.”

“i get that.” she chuckles, “hey, most of the things are bagged–i was wondering if you’d like to meet my friends? soobin is cashiering and he should be fine since it’s not too busy so…?”

you take a quick glance and look over at her friends who are looking at the two of you eagerly. the one with bangs has this smirk on her face, making you hesitate.

“please? i don’t know why but–” danielle lies, she knows why. “um, they want to meet you.”

“me?” 

“yes!”

you pause and honestly think of declining until danielle shoots her bottom lip out a bit. in no time you’re biting the inside of your cheek before responding with a nod, and you’re so grateful because she’s grabbing your hand—two fingers of yours—and leading you over to the small table near the windows.

danielle is gripping your pointer and middle finger lightly, but it feels like she has a hold on you as a whole. your body is all warm and fuzzy and your mind is hazy and her skin is really soft and nice and—

“this is y/n!” she introduces, letting go of your fingers. “y/n, these are my roommates hanni minji, and this is haerin.”

“nice to meet you all.” you greet softly with a small smile. they all stare and you feel yourself shrinking under all the pairs of eyes. you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue before clearing your throat. “are the drinks alright?”

minji scans your face, eyes tracing each and every feature before her gaze softens. she nods at you and responds, “they’re great, wonderful.”

you nod at her and grin again, looking down at the table to avoid any eye contact. 

hanni chuckles. “yeah this latte is actually amazing, danielle’s made me lattes before but they’ve never been this good.”

“y/n is really good at making the drinks, practically keeping the bakery in business. i bet our boss is happy with you in the mornings.” danielle completely ignores hanni’s teasing and adds to the praise, making you wave your hand and shake your head.

“ah, no, no. i mean i can only make drinks but danielle is really good at every aspect of her job, she’s wonderful with customers.”

“oh stop–”

“no, you are.” you look up to make eye contact with her, then look over to soobin, who’s brewing another batch of coffee. “soobin is great, but he’s really clumsy sometimes and it’s kind of funny catching him stumbling over words. you’re a natural.”

“you’re so sweet.” danielle mutters in awe before  lips turn up even more, her cheeks flush slightly and her friends all look at each other with smirks on their faces. 

“i um, i try–”

you hear the door opening and two pairs of very familiar voices make you turn immediately. turning around, you see your cousin and her best friend in a group with three others you just barely recognize. danielle spots this as well, she starts to stand before you pause her in the act.

“danielle, i got it.”

“it’s a big group y/n.” she continues to stand up, but when you place your hand on her arm lightly it’s like you’ve frozen her in place. minji and hanni immediately give each other knowing looks, and haerin observes the whole ordeal intensely. 

“it’s my cousin and her friends, you should stay and hangout with your friends. besides, you haven’t had a break today, relax.” your hand slides down to her forearm without any thought. despite the small action, danielle is flustered by it.

“you sure?”

“positive,” you affirm, then look at all her friends. “it was nice meeting you all.”

the group watches you walk over behind the counter, and as soon as you’re at a distance where they can talk without you hearing anything, danielle’s friends – minji and hanni for the most part – go ham on her.

“oh yeah she’s gorgeous.” minji chimes in, shrugging it off like you’re not the prettiest person danielle has seen. “you were right.”

just gorgeous? 

“yeah she’s really pretty dani. and also, she doesn’t hate you, there’s no way.” hanni says as she munches on a croissant, earning a punch to the arm from minji. hanni whines, croissant still in her mouth, “hey! what was that for?”

“finish chewing before you talk! you’re so gross…” 

“you didn’t have to hit me!” hanni groans, nudging minji with her shoulder.

haerin rolls her eyes at the two before taking a sip from her iced tea, watching danielle glance at you. haerin has known danielle for a while, the last time she had been like this was forever ago, this admiration can’t be something that’s purely platonic, not with those dilated pupils and puppy eyes. 

and you, you’re no different either. haerin watches you glance over to make eye contact with danielle, eyes softening and your teeth showing as you smile at her the moment you meet each others features. 

while minji and hanni continue to bicker, haerin continues observing. danielle is making it look like she’s invested in the bickering – which, she very much is; it’s always entertaining when the two argue over stupid things – but her mind is somewhere else.  

“danielle,”

“haerin?” danielle turns her head and hums in response.

haerin blinks. “you like her.”

minji and hanni stop bickering, their presence enhancing the shiver down her spine.

“no, no. i just think she’s really interesting, i couldn’t possibly–”

haerin shakes her head, putting a hand up. “you look at her like she’s… like there’s a halo around her head.”

“i–” danielle turns to glance at you again. you’re laughing with one of the girls, she assumes it’s your cousin that you mentioned. you flick the younger girl’s forehead and she groans, which earns the most pure, natural laugh and smile she’s ever seen on your face. you’re cute, especially when all of your teeth are showing as you laugh. when you make eye contact with your coworker again through waterlined eyes, your lips purse into a closed smile.

danielle is blushing, her cheeks burn, and the vulnerability is displayed right in front of her friends. she tries to laugh it off, but hanni’s jaw drops and she throws a hand over her mouth.

“oh my god.”

minji starts to chuckle. “she has a point, danielle. whether you know it or not, it makes sense.”

“i barely know anything about her, you can’t be serious.” danielle rolls her eyes and pouts. “even if i did, it’d be impossible to even do anything remotely romantic. she’s like stone.

“she was literally everything but stone from what i saw earlier.” haerin comments. “danielle, it’s okay to have a crush on someone, you know?”

hanni hums in agreement. “yup, and you really need to stop that flirting you do with us every ten seconds because it’s grueling and if you’re going to flirt, flirt with someone you actually want because everytime you say anything remotely flirtatious ten years of my life get taken away.”

minji snorts and danielle can’t help but do so as well. “wooow, my flirting is very wonderful thank you.” she crosses her arms and looks over at you again. “and what if y/n doesn’t like my flirting?”

“nah,” hanni sips on her drink. “you called her a good barista or whatever and i saw her like, malfunction for two seconds. she was blushing a little.”

“well she wears blush so–”

“dani, can you–” hanni facepalms. “just, shhh. she doesn’t hate you and you know what, you can build off of that.”

haerin shrugs before taking a few more sips of her tea. “yeah, she’s pretty and smiles at you sweetly. it’s not impossible.”

danielle takes one more look at you, you’re still chatting with your cousin and her friend seems to be joined in the conversation as well. the rest of the group of teenagers have left, so the place is pretty empty. you smile here and there as you clean the counter and wipe the machine, occasionally looking at the two girls who converse with each other.

“okay dani, i love you but i also need to get this lecture noted and also oh my god i have a report due tomorrow and–”

 hanni feels a finger to her lips, similar to how she shushed danielle the night before, but now it’s reversed. minji snorts and haerin laughs before danielle assures, “go, go. i’ll see you later and bring extra snacks hanni.” 

the group begins to clear the table, dismissing danielles efforts to leave it be so she can take care of it. they all bring their silverware and dishes to the little trays near the trash before walking over to the exit, each girl hugging danielle before they all leave the bakery.

when danielle turns around, she spots you still conversing with the girls, but tending to the daily housekeeping simultaneously. you look up and catch her in your eye again, displaying a small, toothy smirk at her.

danielle chuckles to herself, making you do the same even as she moves over to package pastries.

–

today is your offday, so you’d usually wake up two hours later than you usually do for work. but when your phone rings around the same time you’d arrive at work, you groggily reach over to squint your eyes at the screen, reading the contact name that is calling you at this time in the morning:

incoming call: danielle

“does she know im not working? shouldn’t she be off today too…” you mumble to yourself before picking up and putting your phone on speaker. “hello?”

“y/n, hi, did i wake you up? you sound tired, ah, i’m sorry.”

feeling bad, you lie to her. “no, i’ve been awake for a bit now. is everything alright?”

“i just wanted to ask, um, how far do you live from work?”

“less than ten minutes, why do you ask?”

“i’m sorry if this is a big favor but i’m supposed to cover for soobin today since he’s sick. i walked to work since i live a fifteen minute walk away, not too far, but i forgot the keys and it’s storming really badly…”

you’re a little more awake now after hearing the light rumble of thunder coming from outside, it urges you to rub your eyes. “danielle, are you safe from the storm right now?”

“i mean, i’m standing under the little roof thing near the entrance. water can’t get me from here.”

“jesus,” you mutter to yourself, then jump at the next sharp thundering sound that comes after. “i’ll be there soon, okay? i’ll pick you up and you can just give me the directions to your place. be careful, i’m on my way.”

“thank you so much, im sorry again–”

“no, no. it’s fine, i’ll be there, see you.”

before she can respond, you hang up on her, running to the bathroom to splash water on your face and fix your disheveled bedhead up. then, you run towards the entrance of your house and grab your keys that hang on the hook near the door, slide your slides on, and quickly run out.

it’s storming hard, and you’ve already gotten a clue on how bad since you had been pretty drenched from simply walking to your car. 

you speed through the neighborhood and into the main road to get to the bakery faster. desperately looking through the windshield for your coworker, you spot her near the entrance just as she said, then drive up as close as you can.

rolling down your window, a bit of water gets on your face, hair, and the top of your shirt – but it doesn’t stop you from yelling, “get in!”

in a few seconds, danielle is in the passenger seat, her hair visibly damp but not too wet. she runs a hand through it, and it feels like your heart just skipped a beat. her hair is wavy now, more than usual, quite curly. was it always like this? her hair looks beautiful, framing her face perfectly, strands sticking to her skin from the raindrops—like elements of a painting coming together to create something breathtaking.

“sorry, i would’ve asked my roommates but they had some important stuff for their classes and whatnot so they left earlier this morning. i also didn’t want to wake minji up, i know her lectures are pretty bad.”

how thoughtful of her. 

shaking your head, you respond, “it’s fine, i just don’t want you getting sick. i’m glad you called.”

“really?”

“u-uh, i mean, yeah. i’m still not the best at opening and you’re pretty much the best at everything so… soobin and i need you in the mornings. i know im off today but whoever is working this morning probably needs you.”

“aw, that’s so sweet of you.” danielle’s smile grows and grows as she notices everything about you in the moment: your hair is messy, you have some old, loose t-shirt on with some poorly scribbled figure of… you? then, a small giggle leaves her lips once she notices the dog prints on your pajama pants. 

your blush grows deeper with each passing second. “i um, didn’t have time to change. do you want to type your address in my phone or…?”

“you look so cute y/n.” it slips out of danielles lips, but she’s able to play it off well with the little tilt of her head and a sly smirk. it works wonders on you. “i like your shirt and pants.”

you cough to ease your nerves, then shift the stick of your decade-old, hand-me-down five seat toyota to ‘drive.’

“my cousin made it for me when i was still in highschool a while ago. sorry, that’s not important.” you facepalm yourself mentally. danielle thinks this little story is very important, but you cut yourself off.  “do you just want to tell me the directions?”

adorable, danielle almost says out loud. 

“yeah, turn left at the stop.” 

danielle spends the rest of the time staring out the car and gazing out to see the rain that pours down from above. you’re stiff in your seat the whole time, especially when she does that little thing where she glances at you with those pretty eyes occasionally. it’s a simple look and yet you’re flustered beyond words.

you reach an apartment complex and drive as close as you can to the entrance. she gets out and mutters a haste “i’ll be quick” before leaving you alone with a racing heart and flushed face.

when she returns, there’s an umbrella in her hands and the keys to the bakery. once she gets in, you start to drive back.

“danielle?” 

“mhm?”

“is your hair naturally like that?” you ask. 

“ah,” she moves a hand to her hair to run her fingers through, though not without a little struggle. “i straighten it usually, it’s easier to maintain. the rain must’ve made it a little curly again huh?”

“i think your hair is beautiful like that, really.” you admit, eyes stuck on the road. “you look good with any hairstyle.”

“why thank you! i could say that for you as well.”

you scoff playfully, shaking your head as you turn into the bakery parking lot. “right, like my half-awake head is even the tiniest bit alluring.”

she winks at you, leaning in just a bit closer. “i think it enhances the natural allure, no?”

words get stuck in your throat, danielle laughs, and then she waves at you as she gets out the car. the rain has stopped just in time for her to clock in and a little beam of light hits her in the best way possible. you can’t help but stare at her in awe. 

“thank you for keeping me from getting drenched, you’re the sweetest.”

“yeah, i mean, you’re kind of the pillar. our boss isn’t ever here, you’re practically the boss no?”

“you’re too charming, i’ll see you in a few days?”

your mouth opens but nothing comes out for a moment, not until a bright idea pops up in your head.

“i can take you home after work, don’t want you walking in these conditions.”

“y/n,” she starts, looking confused. “it stopped raining.”

“it’s whatever, you know what– i can drive you to work in the mornings.”

“oh, you really don’t have to. isn’t the gas money quite–”

“no, no. i’ll give you a call or text next week, it’s nothing. see you danielle.”

–

little did you know, this would turn into a routine–the small gesture of picking up danielle instead of letting her walk in the mornings.

sure, she got a little less cardio, but she managed to crack that shell open just enough to glimpse what was inside. and everything hidden by your reserved demeanor was everything that made her heart flutter and more. each feature and curve of your face, beautifully highlighted by the soft glow of the café lamps captivated her beyond measure. but what she loved most was your personality—every word, every gesture. it captivated her in ways she hadn’t expected, and she found herself falling deeper with each passing moment.

you were caring, sweet, and had lots to share. there was never a dull moment with you the moment she figured out how to get you to talk a little more.

as for you, mornings weren't dreadful anymore. you started waking up earlier than usual just to make it to danielle's on time. you liked this new routine—seeing danielle first thing in the morning, sharing a coffee with her, chatting while the pastries baked. the smell of fresh coffee and baking bread filled the air, making the workspace warm and inviting. just being in her presence was the perfect start to your day. her laughter and smiles made everything brighter, transforming mundane, tiring mornings into something special.

and what kind of cousin would you be if you hadn’t told hyein everything like the two of you usually do. hyein is on the other side of the couch starting at you smile as you ramble about this routine you’ve fallen into with heart eyes and a wide grin.

“i mean, i haven’t ever liked mornings since her.” you begin, your fingers starting to fiddle with one another. “and oh my god she keeps flirting with me! it’s actually terrible. do you know how hard it is to stay normal when she’s calling me what, a fucking angel first thing in the morning? and it doesn’t help that she’s literally gorgeous, i mean you’ve seen her; she’s straight out of a dream.”

hyein groans as she sits up. “well if you’re so in love, quit complaining to me, you’ve been like this since the month started.”

you sit up as well, furrowing your brows. “what?”

“just ask her out already! it’s clear she’s into you.”

“i think she’s just flirty though.”

“old and stupid oh, you piss me off.” hyein throws a pillow at you, making you yell ‘hey!’ before throwing it back at her face. she laughs before clinging the pillow close. “but really, at least a ‘friend’ date or something… it would bring you two closer. those morning rides aren’t going to lead to anything more than what you already have, probably. plus, soobin and actually working gets in the way of your little lovey-dovey stuff.”

you look at her, biting your lip as you ponder.

hyein is right, hell, she always is. for a child, she’s pretty good with giving advice and an even better listener. she’s your best friend and favorite relative all in one, it would be somewhat betraying to not take the advice.

“well, what if she’s taken?”

“oh my god…” your cousin throws her head onto the cushion of the couch. “she calls you pretty and flirts with you – girl, of course she’s single.”

“okay but… i don’t know.”

“well i know that you’re stupid as hell.”

“language!”

“just check her instagram or something? people with significant others always post something.”

you fall silent, biting your lip again before looking at her with an apologetic feeling in your eye. “i don’t have anything but her number…”

“oh y/n, that’s not a problem at all.” hyein rolls her eyes and scoots up next to you, leaning against your shoulder as you peer over to watch what she’s doing. she holds the phone up to your face to unlock it and taps on the intagram icon, immediately clicking  on the search bar. “do you know her last name?”

“um, it starts with an m i think?”

“you don’t know her last name?”

“why would i know this?”

“do you have an app for your schedules or anything? oh my god, you’re seriously getting on my nerves… i can’t believe you managed to even have a girlfriend for that one year–”

you cringe at the mention of your history with women. “okay don’t mention that please… and fuck her, she was terrible to me.” you frown.

“sorry,” hyein know’s she’s hit a little spot, knowing your past with much detail, then continues. “anyway, let’s just search her up and…” she types in ‘d-a-n-i-e-l-l-e’ into the search and a few accounts pop up. she looks at the small profile pictures displayed and the first one makes her click her tongue. “found it!”

her page is pretty just from the first glance–you two haven’t even looked at any of the posts or highlights either. danielle’s profile picture is jus ther with a beanie over her head and looking at the camera with her pretty eyes and god you almost melt right then and there because no model could top her visuals. 

you reach over to scroll through her posts; she has thirteen in total, and a few catch your eye. one post, in particular, stands out: a single photo of her posing in front of a mirror, wearing a crop top that shows off her slim figure and a denim jacket hanging loosely off one shoulder. she looks absolutely stunning. as you stare at the image, lips slightly parted in awe, hyein looks over and sees your intense gaze. before you can react, you're interrupted by a playful pinch to your cheek.

“you’re so down bad.”

“i’m not!” you scoff, taking the phone out from her hands and scrolling yourself. 

there are photos of her with friends, snapshots of mesmerizing views (though none as captivating as her), pictures with her family, beach scenes, dogs, and several selfies—you find yourself lingering on those a bit longer. her entire page perfectly matches her energy; it's cute and vibrant. as you scroll, hyein catches you smiling to yourself, lost in the charm of danielle’s online presence.

one of her more recent posts, posted about three months ago, catches your eye. it’s her and haerin posing together with haerin’s face being cupped by danielle’s hand as they pose. the caption has your heart sinking a bit (a lot).

“beautiful, gorgeous, and lovely birthday girl💋👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 i love you lots sweetie”

hyein catches the whole thing live, watching your small smile turn into pursed lips. “that doesn’t mean anything y/n, friends can be like that.”

“they’re pretty close…” you swipe to see a picture of danielle’s nose nuzzled into haerin’s cheek and frown. “she’s taken.”

your heart sinks even more just looking at the picture longer, urging hyein to snatch your phone out of your hands and click on the mentioned tags. she finds haerin’s account – it’s public, thankfully – and roams around as you sit there defeatedly.

it’s not looking the best so far, not when hyein clicks on a post with danielle and her group of friends, and after hyein swipes to the next photo she’s met with danielle and haerin hugging each other, cheeks pressed together as they pose for the photo. you catch a glimpse before your head falls over on hyein’s shoulder like you’ve just come back from an unsuccessful war.

“it’s over.”

“y/n, lift your head up! i pose with my friends like this too… maybe she’s touchy.”

“not with me.” you pout. hyein flicks your forehead. “hey!”

“stupid,” she says. “maybe it’s because she likes you and is wary of boundaries. from what i’m seeing, you should initiate.”

“i can’t possibly do that.”

“you’re literally a liar.” she spits out. “as soon as your friends initiate something you’re clinging like a koala, even with me you’re like that.”

you fall over onto the couch, giving up and looking up at the ceiling; your life isn’t over because your really adorable, amazing, lively, vibrant, cute, helpful, captivating, adorable coworker is taken. 

(it’s over.)

hyein allows you to sulk for a moment before widening her eyes and gasping, “wait, i literally know haerin.”

“you do?”

“kind of. i just checked her account on my phone and a lot of people i know follow her, she’s that pretty upperclassman everyone likes. there’s no way she’s dating danielle, like, i have proof.”

sitting up immediately, you crunch your brows. “are you serious?”

“yeah. my friend is friends with her, she’s very much single and i don’t think she wants to mingle.”

“holy shit, you’re serious?”

“language~” hyein teases. “yes, i’m not trying to feed your delusions by the way–i don’t support homewrecking.”

you practically pouce at hyein and tackle her into a loving, grateful hug. she squeaks at the contact, but warms up into the hug. 

“i love you forever, i’ll buy you lunch and treat you to pastries and anything and–”

“it’s fiiinneee.” hyein pulls away and chuckles at you. “i just want to help you out and be happy. and after seeing danielle… she’s really adorable and you’re so giddy for her so she must be wonderful.”

“she is.”

“yeah, all you do is run your mouth about her.”

a laugh is shared between the two of you before hyein reaches for the remote to turn on the tv. you go back to your phone, clicking on danielle’s profile to stalk her again, lingering on posts of herself. you feel your cheeks burning and somehow the little glare your cousin gives you despite her not being in your vision or peripheral.

–

you’ve been reluctant on asking danielle out, even if it’s a simple ‘hangout’ or ‘friend date.’ she’s effortlessly charming as always with each interaction, even getting bold and watching you from over your shoulder at times – everything she does makes your heart beat and beat and beat.

danielle’s been equally flustered and enamored by how open you’ve been with her. the two of you have cracked jokes and shared small stories during the quiet moments with soobin, but danielle especially enjoys you just by yourself. there’s something much more tender about you when it’s just the two of you. you’re physically more touchy wth danielle, and she can’t really tell if it’s on purpose or you’re just touchy like that. you often shove her playfully in conversations, and when you both lean against the counter, you somehow manage to move over ever so slightly so that your arms are touching. 

your coworker has been attentive to all of this, unsure of whether this is just how you are and she’s overthinking things, or this being something more–maybe a sign that maybe you’re into her just a bit.

none of you question it really, and besides, danielles just as touchy. she sometimes leans her head on your shoulder – but very, very briefly – when something is amusing, and sometimes her hands find their way to your hair to fix it, or maybe even to your forearm just because. 

soobin is a bystander, the poor guy thinks it’s just how girls are and is completely oblivious that the two of you are fighting the thick tension in the air.

–

the last coffee beans were grinded, so you tap on soobin’s shoulder and tell him that you’re going to the back to grab more. he nods at you and sends you that pursed grin, you place a hand on his shoulder and thank him.

when you reach the small closet, you find danielle in the room as well, rummaging for packaging and more boxes for the pastries and desserts. she’s oblivious to your presence until you knock flicker the light on and off once, making her squeal and jump from surprise. your coworker turns around and hits the rack unknowingly, when she sees you, she starts to calm down.

“y/n! you scared me!”

you laugh. “sorry, i just needed some–”

above danielle, you spot a bag of coffee beans—at least three pounds heavy—starting to tip. before it can fall, you move without hesitation. you rush over, reaching out and getting on your tiptoes to catch it with one hand just in time.

a sigh of relief leaves your lips, but you catch your breath again as soon as you look back down.

danielle is close. her face is a few inches apart from you and your hand is still up to hold the coffee beans, making the moment much more intimate and nerve-racking than it actually is. she looks at you intensely, her lips parting before her eyes dart down to your lips. 

“y/n,” she almost whispers.

you gulp and look down at her lips, then away, putting your arm down and grabbing the coffee beans with you as you do so. your faces are closer now and you feel your heartbeat rapidly pounding against your chest, threatening to break through. danielle still stares at the features presented to her, pupils dilating.

you break the tension, looking away and stepping back, holding the coffee beans to your chest almost like you’re hugging them. your eyes dart around the room nervously, your cheeks burn like they’re steak being put onto a hot iron skillet, and you gulp one last time.

“the um, t-the beans… they almost fell on you.”

“yeah?” 

“i’m um, i need to uh– yeah, there’s no more grinds and i need to make a latte…”

“right.” danielle starts to smirk, looking at the aftermath on your face. “you do that then. oh, and by the way.”

“hm?”

she steps forward to push hair out your face and behind your ear, her fingers graze against the back of it. “your ears are red–and warm.”

“oh, um, maybe.” you mumble softly. danielle giggles at you before you leave the room, 

–

the two of you don’t speak on the incident the rest of the shift since danielle can tell you’re flustered and she’s also really good at keeping a conversation going. plus, work is in the way at times, so doing your job saves you.

after you two clock out for the day, both of you walk to your car and danielle watches you closely before looking out the window again. you feel a shiver down your spine as you get out the parking spot and the grip on the wheel is tighter the whole way to her apartment complex.

you park in front of the entrance, danielle unbuckles her seatbelt and says, “thanks for the ride.”

“it’s no problem.”

“i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“yup.” 

your coworker narrows her eyes at you, looking at you questionably as if she were expecting something different. she puts her hand on yours, smiles, then gets out the car. 

she starts to walk towards the entrance, and as she walks through the door you huff.

“i can’t be like this, fuck me. another lecture from hyein would kill me.” you groan.

you grab your keys, unbuckle your seatbelt, and get out the car as soon as possible. you sprint towards the entrance and look around for danielle, catching a glimpse of her walking towards the stairs, so you follow after her.

she’s already up a flight somehow right when you reach the bottom of the stairwell, you catch her hair just barely and shout up at her,

“danielle!” she looks down to see you breathing a little heavier than normal. “wait!”

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“i– wait there.” you call out before running up the stairs. danielle doesn’t listen and starts to walk down as well, which leads to you running into her when you clash halfway, accidentally bumping her. “s-sorry.” 

“you’re out of breath.”

inhaling quickly, you nod. “a bit.”

danielle laughs. “why did you run after me?”

“i was um, i was wondering…” you poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue, struggling to make eye contact with her. “are you um, well, fuck, sorry– okay, um.”

“take your time.” she teases.

you giggle before looking into her eyes and composing yourself. “do you want to hangout outside of work sometime? i really… like working with you and talking and yeah all of it, but work kind of limits a lot.”

she looks at you with a growing blush fostering her cheeks. one good look at you–messy hair tucked behind your ears, the baby tee hugging you, your flushed face from running, the adorable look you give her as you wait for an answer – danielle nods and her teeth show as she smiles at you.

“i would love that.”

“really?” you ask, eyes widening. you shake your head and laugh to yourself before asking, “when is good for you?”

“i’m not doing anything right now, are you?”

“i need to pick my cousin up soon but that’s it.”

“okay! you should go pick up your cousin and we can head downtown?”

“oh, now? today?” you say in disbelief; danielle hasn’t given you a chance to plan or mentally prepare for this. you’re already winded, but this is like a tornado picking you up and throwing you over to another continent. “i mean, yes, that’s perfect, yeah.”

“pick me up later then, that alright?”

“i’ll text you when hyein– er, when i drop my cousin off.”

“perfect, i’ll see you then?”

“yes, mhm.”

–

you’ve never driven so fast, nor have you gotten ready so quickly. your cousin gripped the door handle tightly as you sped fifteen miles over the limit in a neighborhood, glancing at your concentrated, flushed face.

usually, hyein is the one rushing home after school since it makes her homesick. but today, the unexpected sight of you bursting into the house, darting to your room, and emerging five minutes later with a denim jacket, jeans, and makeup on left her wide-eyed.

hyein’s laying on the couch when she catches you fixing your hair in the mirror, clenching your jaw and taking a deep breath.

“what’s up with you.”

“danielle.”

“elaborate?”

“i dropped her home and asked her to hangout and then i was like ‘oh okay when?’ and she’s basically saying that now, today, like later. i have to pick her up like right now– wait, do i look good? too much? too little? is it–”

“you look fine y/n, very pretty. i think danielle will appreciate it.”

“you sure?”

hyein sighs and stands up, you’re a little taller then her, so she has to tilt her head up just barely to fix your hair and pat down your jacket. 

“stop stressing, it’s just a hangout, no? you didn’t say it was a date did you?”

shit. 

“i mean no, but–”

“okay so stop stressing and go pick her up!” hyein rolls her eyes at you. “you’ll do great kid.”

“who are you calling kid?” 

“blah blah blah, go get out the house.”

you look at her defeatedly, brows curled up and a pout played on your lips. hyein simply laughs at you before you grab your keys, tote bag, and head out the door.

-

you reach her apartment complex and spot her outside, waiting while engrossed in her phone. danielle jumps when a car honks at her, but then she sees you in the driver’s seat. a smile spreads across her face, and she runs over to you, her excitement palpable.

danielle gets in the passengers seat. “hello again.”

“hi.”

“downtown? are we going to metro or are you going to park there.”

“it’s a surprise,” you smirk mischieviously before starting to drive. danielle giggles and trusts your little ‘surprise.’

the car ride is filled with laughter as you two sing along to your favorite songs. despite having slightly different music tastes, there are many songs that you both enjoy and can belt out together until you find a good spot to park in the city.

danielle waits for you as you pay for parking, looking out at the social city and lovely views. but one view is lovelier than the city, lovelier than everything really. her lips turn up when she looks at you pressing the button and grabbing the ticket that’s dispensed out. 

you fix your hair. “okay, before we go to the surprise did you want to check out the stores?”

“i don’t go downtown too often, so i don’t know what’s good.”

“me neither,” you shrug, then look around. “the city is big, we can surely find something we both like. i hope you like exploring.”

“if it’s with you, then why wouldn’t i like exploring?”

you're caught off guard by the compliment, opting for a chuckle to hide how it makes your heart run a marathon and your tummy twist and turn.

three hours pass but you swear it’s only been thirty minutes. 

the two of you walked everywhere, exploring small cafes, charming clothing stores, and vintage record shops. danielle made sure to take as many pictures of you as possible, insisting on "capturing the moment" and telling you that you're "adorable." her reasons made you giggle nervously, each compliment warming your heart.

you hold onto danielle’s bag of clothes and trinkets she had bought – you practically had to fight her to simply hold the bag – as you lead her down an alleyway. she’s following you mindlessly, not questioning your sudden change in plans since it must be part of your oh-so-lovely surprise.

“i’ve had a lovely time with you, we should spend time together outside of work much more often.” she says softly, turning to look at you and smile. she’s glowing. 

it's five in the evening, and the sun is beginning to set, golden rays seeping through the little cracks in the alleyway. each beam enhances her already striking features. her eyes shine when they catch the light, turning her brown eyes into a mesmerizing gold. the wind tousles her curly hair, making her even more beautiful with each stray strand. the way her teeth peek out when her smile widens makes your knees weak—you could stare at her for hours.

she snaps you out your trance. “y/n, can i ask you something?”

“yeah, what is it?”

“did you not like me when we first met?” 

you two continue to walk, but you’ve fallen silent. looking down at the ground, you shake your head and turn to look at her again.

“no, no that’s not it.” you shake your hands in defense. “i’m just… not a morning person, and very cautious.”

she giggles, “what?”

“when i did closing, all my coworkers were terrible. it was a nightmare despite being awake at the time, you know? and it’s different waking up so early for me, i’m not a morning person in any way.”

“i’m aware.” danielle interjects, making you roll your eyes and shove her with your shoulder playfully. 

you look around the area, clicking your tongue as everything starts to become recognizable. grabbing her hand, you find a little exit and lead her to a small area overlooking a part of the city near the river. it’s beautiful, and danielle is mesmerized by the view.

from where you both stand, you watch her mouth fall open, her hand almost covering it. she sighs in awe, taking in the scene—the buildings with some windows lit and others dark, the flowers in full bloom, and the trees with vibrant leaves.

“y/n, was this the surprise?”

you start to walk ahead, then turn around and motion with your head for her to follow. she watches you sit down on a rock that luckily has space for two people. she sits down next to you, watching as you prop yourself up with both hands behind your back.

you both sit in comfortable silence, the golden hues of the sunset reflecting off the river and casting a warm glow over everything. danielle’s eyes dart from the view to you, her smile never fading. you catch her gaze and smile back, feeling a sense of peace and contentment. the moment feels perfect–it is perfect.

“this is the surprise, and also kind of my apology for being an ass to you the first few weeks of working.”

danielle admires the side of your face as you watch the view, the sun hitting you beautifully, tracing each feature she adores the most.

“i’m not a morning person, and i guess i was stubborn and always pissy. i didn’t want to talk a lot because i was scared of you and soobin – mostly you – being terrible like the closing staff.” you meet her eyes with your own. “but you’re far from that.”

she does that thing where her eyes soften and her lips form something between a pout and a smile, much like the time she talked about a puppy she ran into on the street. but now, the emotion of adoration and awe is much more intense. her gaze seems to hold a deeper meaning, reflecting the beauty of the moment and the bond you share. 

“y/n, you’re so…” she covers her face with a hand, concealing her blush. “you’re wonderful.”

“i just wanted to share a view i really like with you, since i appreciate you a lot, you know? and we’ve been getting close so… i just… yeah.”

avoiding her look, you turn to watch the view again. yeah, you’d much rather be staring at her while she admires the view, but you can’t possibly do that when the sun is exposing your crimson cheeks.

“can i take a picture of you?” she asks, pulling out her phone. “you’re just so gorgeous right now, i really want to have something to look back on later.”

look back on you? you?

“yeah, sure.” you respond bashfully.

she holds her phone up, then looks at you, grins, and says, “cheese!”

you chuckle and shoot her a lovely, toothy, beaming smile. “cheese!”

–

the two of you alternate between talking and admiring the view for another two hours until the sun starts to set. by then, danielle has ended up close to you, your arms touching purposefully.

as you walk back to your car, a gust of wind brushes past and danielle shivers. she's only wearing a cropped t-shirt and sweatpants, which isn’t ideal for the cooler night. without a second thought, you slip off your jacket and drape it over her shoulders, grinning.

“thank you, y/n,” she says, looking up at you through her eyelashes. “you’re not cold?” 

you shake your head, the warmth from the evening and the moment enough to keep you comfortable. “nope, i’m good,” you reply, enjoying the way she pulls your jacket closer around herself. it looks even better on her.

“i have a longsleeve on, and i don’t want you getting sick dani.”

her eyes widen and she gasps. “oh my god.”

“what?”

“you called me dani!”

you ‘tsk’ at her and shake your head, but smile to yourself. “yeah and?”

“you never ever call me that.”

“well i’m very fond of you now so… dani it is.”

both of you continue on to the car, enjoying each others presence while lingering close.

–

you reach her apartment complex and somehow those five – almost six – hours seemed like they weren’t enough. the last thing you wanted was the night to end, but here you are, parked in front of the entrance.

danielle hesitates in her seat, not wanting the night to end either. “hey, just to clarify…”

“yes?”

“did you… was this a date?” 

you melt. “at first i just wanted to hangout with you, but as soon as you got into my car when i picked you up i really wanted it to be. what did you think it was?”

she relaxes into the seat and lets out a sigh of relief. “oh thank god. you were so adorable and cute the whole time and the thought of this just being coworkers– no, friends, hanging out was dreadful.”

“well then, it was definitely a date.”

she hums before silence follows. you two sit there smiling like idiots at each other, the air filled with excitement and adoration.

“i’ll see you at work tomorrow?” danielle says it like it’s a question, but it’s guaranteed unless something deadly catches you by surprise. even then, you’d still make an effort to see danielle.

“yeah. i’ll pick you up too.”

“great,” danielle mumbles. without any warning, she quickly reaches over, placing a hand on the back of your neck and pressing her lips to your cheek. her eyes close, and you freeze in place as she hides herself by pressing her nose into your skin. “i really, really enjoyed everything. i like you so, so much.”

her voice sends a shiver down your spine, and the feeling is heightened when she kisses your cheek again, lingering before she pulls away.

she winks at you before waving. “have a good night, y/n. sleep well.”

your mouth is agape, and you can’t even move. you sit there, watching her walk back to her apartment complex. she looks back once more to wave and smile again. you’re flushed, your heart racing faster than any f1 car. you realize you’re the happiest you’ve been in ages.

–

danielle squeals as she enters the apartment, making minji and hanni – who are playing some card game – jump and yelp themselves.

“what the hell man?” hanni yells.

“oh my god it was a date.”

“well obviously.” minji responds, watching danielle flop onto the couch. “she ran for you just to ask to hangout, i don’t even do that for you guys.”

“maybe because you secretly hate us.”

“hanni shut up you’re no better.”

danielle kicks her feet, smiling like a little kid and sighing dreamily. minji and hanni give each other a glance, then shrug at each other. 

“she took me to this wonderful view and oh my god it was beautiful but not as beautiful as her like oh my god and talking to her is so fun and natural and she’s so sweet and–”

minji cuts her off, noticing the jacket she has on. “is the denim hers?”

“yes.” danielle says smittenly, she’s lovestruck. “and i kissed her cheek just now.”

“oh wooow maybe your flirting can get you places.” 

danielle grabs a pillow and throws it at hanni, making the trio all laugh together. 

–

work is normal the next day—well, for the most part. it's just much more annoying since the two of you can’t be hopelessly in love in front of soobin and all the customers. after all, it’s a professional setting.

you can’t help but steal glances at her whenever you get the chance, especially when she’s taking orders. she’s so sweet and friendly with everyone, and it only makes you fall for her even more. if hyein were here, she’d probably roll her eyes and pretend to gag at how hopelessly in love you are.

danielle catches you staring after she’s finished putting a customers croissant in their bag, smirking at you knowingly. 

“hey, do your job!”

“oh shut up…”

she laughs before grabbing your wrist, dragging you to the door to the back. she looks over to soobin, who’s cleaning the counters, and shouts, “we’ll be back! i need y/n to help reach something for me.”

he shoots a thumbs up before starting to wipe again. danielle leads you back to the storage room giggling, then closes the door to leave you two alone.

“hey, we’re still on the clock.” you warn.

“i know, i know.” danielle starts to wrap her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. “i wanted to do something i didn’t get to last night.”

you clench your jaw. “right.”

“mhm.” she says, staring at your lips. 

you couldn’t resist any longer. with a surge of giddy excitement, you close the distance between you and danielle, eagerly cupping her face in your hands. as your lips meet hers, they are just as soft and inviting as you had imagined, yet the reality surpasses any expectation. 

she pulls away first to mumble against your lips, “you’re lovely.”

“you’re even better.”

danielle closes the distance, you both smile against each other and savor the short amount of time you both have in the storage closet. kissing her is everything, she’s just perfect.

time seems to stand still as you both melt into the kiss, a tender warmth spreading through every inch of your being. it’s as if the world around you fades away, leaving only the sensation of her warmth, the taste of her lips, and the intoxicating feeling of being so close to someone you adore.

when she starts to cup your cheeks, you conclude that maybe mornings aren’t so bad–definitely not if danielle is in the mix.

[rninies]

LOVE ft wise — wise has been working nonstop lately, and it's your mission to make him take a break.

wc: 0.5k ノcw + tw: gn!reader, pet names (baby), fluff, overworked wise, might be ooc wise im not sure though, title is love by wavetoearth hehe

“wise?” your voice calls out for your boyfriend who has been working nonstop since he got home. you see him sitting in front of the HDD, clicking away, and you can’t help but sigh. though you can’t see his face, you can tell how exhausted he is, judging by the way he’s sitting down (looks a bit uncomfortable, too). “wise, baby.”

wise practically jumps from his seat, not quite expecting anyone to be awake at this hour. “y/n, you scared me.” he sighs and sits back down on the chair as soon as he sees that it is just you. “why are you still awake at this time?” he gestures you to come closer, to which you obliged.

“couldn’t sleep,” you mumble, softly caressing wise’s hair. “what about you? you haven’t been sleeping well ever since your inter-knot level reached… what was it?”

“50.”

you hum. “yeah, 50. i know you’re a trustable proxy, but what will happen if everyone’s favorite proxy falls sick? with your sleeping schedule, i doubt you’ll be able to function tomorrow.”

wise closes his aching eyes, leaning his head forward to rest on your stomach. “i know, but i can’t just abandon everyone’s help. the messages i receive every day and the payments they’ll be giving. we need that for our store’s bills.”

“it won’t hurt to take the day off.” you softly say. gently, you cup wise’s cheeks, almost cooing when you see the dark circles under his eyes. “look at you: dark circles and a barely functioning body. come on, take the day off tomorrow, yeah? no scratch that, take the whole weekend off.”

“what-”

“no complaints.” you huff, fingers turning off the computer in front of you and the room grows dark. “besides, we haven’t spent time together in a long time. i miss my boyfriend.” you pout, and wise laughs. “stop laughing!”

“i’m sorry,” wise wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. “i miss you too. i’ll post a message on the inter-knot that i’ll take the weekend off, yeah? does that sound good to you?”

even though wise can’t see you very well in the dark, he can imagine how your eyes lit up as he says that. “really? that means we can spend the day rotting in bed tomorrow!”

“well, it’s basically today, but yes, we’ll do just that.” wise shakes his head, a small smile appearing on his lips. he stands up from the chair and does a big stretch. “right. let’s head back to bed, shall we? lots of sleep i need to catch up on.” he intertwines his fingers with yours, leading the way back to his bedroom.

wise immediately pulls you onto the bed, arms wrapped around your body tightly. “i miss this.”

you hum. “i miss this even more.” you fiddle with the hem of wise’s shirt, feeling more at home now that he’s here with you. “hey, wise?”

“hm?” you can hear the sleep laced in his voice.

“i love you,” you say quietly, but enough for wise to hear.

“i love you more.” wise replies, a smile appearing on his face.

(the next day, wise makes a quick post on his inter-knot account that he was taking a break and the comments flooded with how happy people are that he’s taking a break; comments wise was not expecting to get).

[pastelclovds]

ihnmaims isekai AU

nsfw headcanons || ft. AM || soft top!dom!male!reader || part 1

AM

alright *cracks knuckles* let’s get the skyscraper sized elephant out of the room. this man is a freak as soon as he realizes he can feel everything.

he pay not be able to walk properly, but at least he has a sense of touch, hands, and a fully functional dick.

you can bet a hundred dollars and win every single time that this man spends his free time 50% of the time jerking off to the thought of you.

he’s like a sweaty teenager finding out masterbation for the first time. once he gets taste, it’s an addiction.

he shamelessly smells your used underwear and dirty clothing as well as use them to wrap around his cock and thrust into them. one, because he wants to be covered in your scent. two, because he’s imagining you’re there sucking him off.

he cums embarrassingly quick and leaves your used clothing back inside the dirty clothes bin.

he’s the first of the three to come to you for sex, thankfully you agree and pull him into the bedroom with the biggest bed to do the deed while RAM and CAM are both envious and feeling confident in wanting to ask you to relieve them.

as much as AM and his brothers want to get fucked so badly, you gotta remember that since they were previously robots with no way of feeling psychical contact, they’re technically virgins. so you’re gentle with them.

AM doesn’t appreciate it, though. even though it makes him feel so vulnerable and warm, he’s so damn impatient.

HUGE brat too. but no matter how much he hisses and complains, you don’t budge and treat him like he’s glass. The foreplay is 10 minutes max until you’re both finally naked.

you ask what his safe word was. when you saw he was as confused as a baby giraffe on its first day of life: you explained that a safe word was used to stop or slow down your sex scenario.

AM rolled his eyes and whispered the first thing that came to mind, “centipede”.

you make a deadpan expression as AM laughed under his breath.

he’s damn near in tears while you’re giving him his first blowjob and explodes in your mouth after 1 minute. he’s hard within seconds when you swallowed his semen.

you cover your hand in a generous amount of lube, he came again just from you gently fingering his ass hole loose enough to take your cock while he’s covering his mouth with his hands to hold in his pathetic moans.

it’s not until you put a condom on and stroke it with the remaining lube you had that AM started to get nervous, his breath hitching when he caught sight of your throbbing cock in your hand.

you catch onto his hesitation and ask him if he wants to stop.

“HELL NO!”

he protests. he wants this. he longed for this since the day he woke up and realized the hell he was trapped in. he wanted to feel you. he wanted to make love to you so badly. and now that it’s right in front of him? of course he wasn’t going to pass this up. it’s just…

you hold your hand out for him to grab. you stare at him with such tender affection, comfort, and… love.

“i know this is nerve wracking for you. i don’t entirely remember my past experiences, and it’s been a long time since i’ve been this close to someone. so i’m pretty nervous too. you’re not alone, let’s learn together. i’ll be as gentle as you want.”

AM for the first time in his existence is left absolutely speechless. he couldn’t help tears slipping past his eyes as he suddenly held onto you. resting his head on your neck as he tried to stable himself by sniffing your scent. you kiss away his tears and wait patiently for him to give the okay.

you position AM in classic missionary, you figured that was the easiest position for virgins.

you hold both of AM’s hands beside his messy hair and carefully raise your hips and held your dick in front of AM’s lubed hole.

“ready?”

“yes… just fuck me already! please!”

AM looked up at you with a pleading eye and you just snapped right there. you slowly thrust your cock inside AM’s tight hole as he let out a cry of both discomfort and relief. you silence his moans with kisses that turned into slobber filled, french disgracing, make outs.

you moan when you finally put your whole dick inside AM’s warm walls. you still for a few seconds, waiting for a sign from AM to continue.

AM’s a complete mess. he’s panting like a dog beside your ear, his hands holding yours in a death grip, and his legs are shaking like leaves around your waist.

it’s not until he let out a soft moan as he grinds on your dick, you pull your dick out until it was nothing but the tip inside AM. Then you slide to the hilt, your balls slapping onto his ass.

AM loses all control over his voice, you’re pretty sure his two counterparts and your neighbors are hearing your session. but you couldn’t care for the life of you. this felt so euphoric, and AM’s pleasured face and noises made you feel good. so what if you earned noise complaints.

skin slapping against skin and the delicious stench of sex filled the bedroom. you and AM’s mixed moans and cries echoed across the apartment as RAM awkwardly tried to read a book and not get hard. for once CAM was grateful he was partially deaf.

you praise AM for being so good for you and for feeling heavenly. you couldn’t help but press kisses on his neck and suck on the patch of skin on his shoulder. AM could feel his stomach tighten at your words and lips, the sign of his third and final orgasm.

“i-i’m close! please let me cum! i need it!”

you suck in a breath of the steamy air as you fasten your pace into quick but swallow thrusts enough to graze his prostate. AM was well responsive to that. letting out a whiny gasp before growling in approval and grinding his ass against your hips every time you bottomed out.

you rasped out for AM to come, and he did. almost dramaticly but this is his first time so don’t him.

his eyes roll back as his dick makes a mess between both of your chests. AM went completely limp in your arms as you continue to snap your hips into his until the hot knot in your belly snapped and you let out a groan as you filled the condom.

AM sighed out dreamily when he felt your warm release fill him through the plastic wrap around your cock.

you pulled out of AM’s used hole, tied up the condom and threw it away in the mini trash can in the bedroom, and just laid there for a few minutes to catch your breath as AM clung onto you.

AM whined when you pulled away from his clinginess to grab a towel you set on the floor before hand to wipe AM and yourself clean of cum.

thankfully the bedroom also had a mini fridge filled with mini bottles of water and snacks the boys enjoyed to eat. he chugged the water like he was bet to do it and ate the snacks in record breaking seconds. you have to teach him to not pig out.

you combed your fingers through AM’s hair like you knew he liked as he rested his head on your chest. he surprised you when he suddenly grabbed your free hand and gently traced his fingers over your palm.

“thank you… i enjoyed this a lot.”

you smile as you kissed his forehead.

“i’m glad i could make our first experience enjoyable. rest now. you did so well for me, my good boy.”

AM was too tired to not pretend you calling him that name wasn’t attractive. his eyes shut closed as he drifted off to sleep. he felt satisfied, content, and so so loved.

the next morning reader goes to work and leaves AM a note saying “blueberry pancakes :)”.

AM exits the bedroom towards the dining room where the nostalgic smell of pancakes filled his nose and made his mouth water.

RAM and CAM are conversing amongst themselves while munching on pancakes until AM rudely interrupts them by taking a pancake from CAM’s plate and eating it right in front of him.

CAM stares at him unimpressed as he scans him. memories of your time together obviously from the love marks you left on his neck and shoulder.

AM looks down at his “brothers” with a shit eating grin as he proudly says:

“HA! I fucked them before you did, virgins! HAHA—!”

“The noises you made last night didn’t sound like you were the one doing the fucking,” RAM snidely comments, CAM chuckles as he snatches another pancake from the stack you piled in the middle of the table.

AM bursts in red as he growls at an unfazed RAM and CAM before the two continue their conversation. He huffs before getting his own plate and preparing his own breakfast.

as he gets more comfortable around you and sex, he is obsessed with it. it’s all he thinks about now (besides his hyper fixation with bugs and horror movies). he’d want it once everyday, and jerks off twice a day.

unfortunately for him, his brothers want sex as well. so you made a schedule to have sex with the three of them separately twice a week and Saturday is a chill day. he begrudgingly agrees to the ridiculous schedule. he would rather die than to never make love to you again.

Enjoys: 69, doggy style, missionary, hair pulling, spanking, light choking, SCENTS, and oral (giving & receiving). Hates: bondage, eye covers, temperature play, and ruined orgasms.

all rights reserved © pastelclovds — this blog contains [n]sfw and dark content. minors, ageless & blank blogs dni. all fanfics belong to me. please do not copy, translate, repost, nor recommend on tiktok. anyone found doing so will be contacted immediately.

[audhdnight]

Just thinking about the common experience of late diagnosed disabled people of “the normal amount of pain is none” and how we’re just supposed to know that despite *some* level of pain being OUR normal for our entire lives, even if it’s usually not super bad it’s just always there.

Thinking about how, when I told my mother this, she asked me “So what’s hurt?” Which is very different than “what hurts?”

I looked at her, confused. “Nothing is hurt. I just hurt.”

And she says “But where do you hurt?”

“Well, right now it’s my stomach and my ankles-“

She cuts me off. “So you twisted your ankle?”

“No,” I say. “My ankles just hurt. I’ve been walking today.”

Now it’s her turn to look confused. “Just walking doesn’t make your ankles hurt. You must have sprained them or something.”

But I shake my head. “Nope. This just happens on days when I walk more than a little bit. My ankles hurt first, then my knees by lunch time. And if I don’t take a nap and stay on my feet all day, my hips will be hurting too.”

“Oh.”

Joint pain is my normal. Sometimes, if I barely walk all day, the ache in my ankles is barely noticeable and doesn’t affect my functioning because I’m used to it. If I do what most able-bodied people would consider to be a “normal” amount of walking, almost all of my joints will hurt by supper. If I have to wash dishes or run any errands, I’ll hurt so bad I can’t walk for the rest of the day.

Then there’s the chronic migraine attacks. I used to have them multiple times a week as a child, and no matter how I explained myself, nobody ever understood that they weren’t just headaches. I experienced those too, and frequently, but they were not the same. Thankfully, at the age of eleven, I found an article explaining migraine triggers. I was able to identify a few of my own triggers, and the frequency of my migraine attacks reduced to maybe a couple a month. For a few years I was basically on cloud nine, I’d never experienced such a lack of pain before and it was so freeing. Unfortunately, migraine is a progressive condition, so the attacks have gotten more frequent over the years.

And then there’s the “random” pains. Some mornings I wake up and my stomach hurts. Or my chest. Or my back. These are just things I have to live with, because my body’s connective tissue is… well, for lack of a better word, faulty. And I never knew that other people didn’t experience this, because how could I? We never talked about it. Sometimes I’d hear people complain about back aches and just assume they were like mine. Of course, I knew that injuring yourself could cause muscle aches, obviously. But I just assumed that *most* of the time, other peoples bodies hurt like mine did. I didn’t realize that humans aren’t supposed to “just hurt” without a connected incident.

And when I try to explain this to able bodied people, their response is always the same. “Well, everyone’s back hurts sometimes.” “Everybody gets headaches sometimes.” “You’re not special just because you’re too lazy to walk. I still go to work when I don’t feel good.” And no matter how many times I try to say that No, you don’t get it, I *always* hurt, they still brush me off and dismiss me.

[marlair]

hi !! m not sure if u take rqs but if u do ,, do u mind writing the first years x a rllyyy short reader? any gender is fine !! <3

i didn’t expect you to be so tiny

synopsis: the first years with a.. really short prefect.

gn!yuu

ACE TRAPPOLA

this guy is average (i suppose) height, so he’d probably laugh right in your face about your height.

“HAHA bro how are you that tiny😂😂” coded

you, as a member of the short community, want to do nothing more than yank his hair.

smh.

if you needed to grab something from a shelf taller than you (most shelves in NRC), he’d probably watch you struggle for a hot minute and then laugh at you — only after that routine is he willing to help you out.

“loud sigh, fineeee, since you need my help so bad, i GUESS i’ll help you out”, he says.

though with his reaction, you think you’d much rather have just climbed onto a chair and done it yourself.

you are sick and TIRED.

DEUCE SPADE

he’s not as.. assholey about it as ace, but you can definitely tell he’s aware of your shortness.

the moment you stand in front of a shelf that is, in fact, taller than you — he’s already behind you and has the item you needed in his hands, smiling warmly.

you died.

he carries stuff for you because apparently, ‘you might not be able to carry it! because you’re, well..’

you appreciate it, of course, but —

— you can carry a single grocery bag, okay?

he underestimates you quite a bit because of your height, which is most of the time annoying, but it’s funny sometimes.

JACK HOWL

he’s like 6’3” what the fuck. and considering you’re.. cough cough really short, it’d probably be funny seeing you two standing next to eachother.

the contrast would probably bewilder some people, add-in the fact he’s really muscular and then it’d even be creepy to some.

like deuce, he’d probably underestimate you to some extent because of your.. rather diminutive height.

he’d have to look straight down to see you, and you’d have to crane your neck up to see him, which is honestly sad.

he doesn’t seem like he’d be hard to deal with, though.

he’d just sort of, not really mention the difference.

EPEL FELMIER

short people solidarity WOO!!!

he’d be shaking, crying, shitting, literally all the bodily functions, when he first meets you.

there’s someone in the school who is shorter than him!!

he’d be helping you grab things from shelves, resting his arm on your shoulder or head, and other things.

literally anything to validate himself in the fact he is taller than someone his age.

he’d tease you for being short, but if anyone full-on bullied you about it, he’d beat them up.

lmao.

the day you wear heels that make you taller than him is the day of his downfall.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

okay, we have to remember what he grew up being taught, alright?

this man is a KNIGHT. bro is CHIVALROUS.

regardless of your height, he’d be helping you carry and grab stuff.

but when you’re short— and much shorter than him—, his, uh, coddling is amped up a bit.

“as a knight, i must protect you! especially because you are so harmless!”

you, who literally survived through multiple overblots: 🧍.

it’s sweet, though.

the effort is definitely there! 

[shibaraki]

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

synopsis: slow to heal and forced on sick leave, a lonely Todoroki Shouto decides to download the latest popular app, Enigmail, to cure his boredom. he finds you. the rest is… well. moderately disastrous.

tags: NSFT, AFAB reader, pen pal au, hero personal assistant reader, prohero shouto, strangers to friends to lovers, injury recovery, online friendship + eventual romance, feelings development, misunderstandings, identity reveal, pining, sexting, masturbation (male chara), making out + heavy petting, getting together, *slaps roof of fic* you can fit so much fluff in this thing

wc: 17K

It started unexpectedly��with a tremor.

Rather, it started with Oda Shuichi, the prolific villain known as Tremor. At the time of the incident his quirk had been unregistered, but doctors quickly found that it severely affected an individual's motor neurons. According to them the length of time that he has a five point touch hold on someone influences how long they will lose motor function—and how poorly their muscles atrophy.

Shouto spent three uninterrupted minutes trapped in his clutches.

“I promise I’ll come by and visit whenever we can. You’ll still get updates and reports through your work email,” Midoriya tried to assure him with that signature smile, brows drawn together into an almost pleading expression. “It’s just for a little while!”

“For a month,” Shouto pointed out petulantly. Nori, his elderly adopted cat, stirred from her place on his stomach while restless fingers combed over her short pale fur.

“A month,” Midoriya parrots. He offers an apologetic grimace and leans over where he lies horizontal, slumped and agitated, to fluff up the couch cushions behind him. The newly crowned Symbol of Peace obviously felt needlessly responsible for the situation at hand. Shouto had only allowed Tremor to grab him so Deku and Suneater could get the hostages out, after all.

“Taking a break isn’t so bad, Shouto. And Hawks told me you’ve yet to actually use any of your vacation days,” he continued. “Even Kacchan takes time off. Do you know how many hours you have to work to outdo Kacchan?”

“I’m sure you could tell me exact numbers”.

“Don’t be mean,” Midoriya said, dithering as he peers around the room, slightly unfamiliar now that the furniture has been temporarily moved around to make navigating the space easier. Thanks to an on-call specialist Shouto would still be able to walk in short bursts, but he’d have to gradually build up strength and stamina over the weeks to come.

A pleased sound reverberated in Midoriya’s throat as he finally discovered the TV remote, setting it beside Shouto’s phone on the arm of the chair. “Okay. There,” he hooked an ankle around the coffee table and dragged it a little closer. “If you need us to get you anything from the store just text us”.

Shouto grumbled. Midoriya sighed, fondly exasperated at the childish display. Before leaving he moved the nearby pair of crutches within reach, listing off all the things he can think of, “Hey, maybe you can catch up on Quirky Hearts now! Or read that series Iida said you’d enjoy. There’s that new app I heard about, too. Enigmail? That might be fun”.

The anonymous pen pal app, Enigmail, exploded in popularity after its release in the spring. Shouto barely knew a thing about it, only that you needed to be over eighteen and chatting partners were assigned at random. Nothing about that sounded tempting.

Midoriya’s suggestion hung over his head for the rest of that afternoon. Quirky Hearts droned on in the background. Halfway through the first episode Shouto had yet to retain any information. Nori hardly left her spot. Jaws stretched wide around a yawn, lips pulled back to display what remained of her teeth. He liked to think she sensed his inner turmoil, though realistically, she was likely too lazy to move.

Curiosity prevailed in the end. The logo featured a pink post mounted mailbox, the slot unhinged to receive a folded paper plane. Shouto opened the app onto a pretty basic interface that followed an almost pastel theme. The profiles are barebones. He supposed that was purposeful. It asked for pronouns and a nickname, offering the option to pick an icon from their default library, but nothing more.

From what he could discern skimming over the rules he would be assigned to a random chat room with another person in a speed dating style interaction. A timer would count down from two minutes and upon completion prompt the user to either switch partners or remain talking.

A simple concept. But anything had sounded better than sulking horizontally and staring dead eyed at reality television for the remainder of his night. And when was the last time he met somebody new?

Almost every username he could think up had been taken. Even his hero name was unavailable. In a last ditch effort he settled on a miraculously accepted Sooba and scrolled through the icons. “Hey, it looks like you,” he murmured, pleased by the regal white cat icon. She hadn’t heard him, but sunk her dull claws into the meat of his forearm as he turned the image to her, those dramatic yellow eyes dilating at his coo, “Don’t worry. You’re the only Nori in my life”.

Shouto clicked start.

The first few users are odd, and without tact. Others communicated in languages he couldn’t understand. He stuck around regardless—luckily the developers had thought to include a translation tool, and Shouto managed to befriend one or two people with innocuous pictures he’d taken on previous patrols alone.

Then there’s…

XpLoveGuest ▻ Hey sexy

By that point early evening had already flooded through his balcony doors and drenched everything in a gauzy orange glow. His nose wrinkled. “You have no idea what I look like,” he thought aloud, switching to his right hand to roll the ache from his left wrist

▻ ASL?

Shouto frowned in faint confusion. He minimised the app to search up the term. Results flowed in, and after a brief look over everything he discovered they all repeated the same description. It’s an old acronym.

His thumbs tapped across the keyboard in quick succession.

Sooba ▻ Age: 27 ▻ Location: Tokyo ▻ Sex: No thank you

The chat immediately disappeared. A loading symbol blinks in the centre of the screen. He snorted, and suddenly a new chat opened with a different username blinking at the top corner. It’s a bit on the nose.

‘InsertNameHere’.

You shared the same default cat icon, which he took as an immediate plus.

But a minute elapsed and nobody spoke. There was an unusual trepidation on your part. Shouto chewed his bottom lip. He contemplated starting the conversation when suddenly three dots skipped across the screen, indicating the other user was typing something.

InsertNameHere ▻ You’re not going to send me a picture of your dick, are you? ▻ If you have one that is.

Shouto’s mouth parted in soft surprise, then pressing defensively thin, and he had glanced around his living room as though someone were there to witness this weirdness alongside him.

Sooba ▻ I have one.

InsertNameHere ▻ Ok. Well I don’t want to see it.

Sooba ▻ It sounds like you see a lot of dicks.

Not once taking his eyes away from the screen, Shouto felt for the TV remote and paused the show, brow arching at your next response.

InsertNameHere ▻ And it sounds like you’re new here.

Sooba ▻ I am. My friend recommended I try this to cure my boredom while I recover.

A few beats passed. He eyed the countdown looming over your shared interaction, conscious of how little time is left. You were the first interesting person he’s come across. Though he supposed that isn’t saying much.

InsertNameHere ▻ Recover? That sounds bad. Are you alright?

Sooba ▻ Injury at work. I’ll be fine in a few weeks.

Just as you were beginning to respond, the timer cut out. Shouto reflexively expelled his frustration and Nori lifted her head toward the abrupt movement of his chest, ears twitching. She blinked up at him in disapproval for shaking her. “Sorry sweet girl,” he murmured, wearing a small smile as he scratched under her chin. So temperamental.

A familiar pop up in the cartoonish shape of a postcard covered the chat. Your messages blurred into the background. It read: Do you wish to continue corresponding?

Shouto clicked ‘Yes’. And apparently you did too, because your contact pinned itself to his in-app mailbox.

A melodic chime pinged from his phone. Confetti burst across the off white background in pixelated blooms.

✎ CONGRATULATIONS! You have a new pen pal ✐

InsertNameHere ▻ Guess I can keep you company in the meantime. ▻ You’re the only sane person I’ve come across so far.

Shouto smiled, even as the muscles in his cheeks protested. It’s a stubborn reminder of his condition. He repositioned himself to lessen the strain on his wrists, chin tucked to his chest where his phone is propped, and said:

Sooba ▻ I’d like that. :)

The fortnight that followed is slow to pass. An endless cycle of wake, stretch, eat, lightly exercise as instructed by his physiotherapist, play with Nori, eat, watch Quirky Hearts, stretch. Midoriya stopped by, bringing Iida along with him. Jirou sent him playlists to listen to. Fuyumi called every evening and shared the phone with his mother, gentle in their fretting. He assures them all that he’s coping just fine from the Shouto-shaped depression in his couch cushions.

But there’s also you; the stream of consciousness keeping his seams together, lest he fall apart from the complete and utter boredom he’s been forced to endure. In the beginning he wasn’t sure of the rules. Talking online is not his forte and neither is making new friends. That entire first morning was spent ruminating whether or not texting you ‘good morning’ was strange, and estimating how many times was appropriate to message you before he violated some invisible social boundary.

Normal had been irrelevant until now. Normal, to Shouto, consisted of avoiding his father’s phone calls, sending the occasional concussive text message—indecipherable to even the greatest cryptanalysts—and giving Nori updates in the 1A Grad group chat.

Sometimes he’ll open the app to see you typing, pausing, typing. Imagining you, a faceless someone, equally uncertain about your footing pleases him a little. In the end he figured if you didn’t want to talk to him, you wouldn’t respond. Evidenced by how you often saved him the trouble by messaging first, sometimes as early as five o'clock in the morning. Apparently you worked irregular hours in a rather unpredictable industry. Shouto weighs the possibility that you might be a fellow hero—or something close—more than he cared to admit.

Any trepidation he felt would always dwindle as soon as a notification lit up on the screen. He reads your username and his insides turn over.

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ve escaped to the break room. ▻ Do you ever think about how we don’t have muscles in our fingers? How fucked up is that?

Shouto smirks, pulled away from the conversation at hand. He unlocks the phone in his lap, beneath the kotatsu to remain hidden, an attempt at being inconspicuous as he replies.

Sooba ▻ I try not to think too much about anything.

You throw back a few laughing emoticons and satisfaction washes over him. “You’ve been texting a lot. Who’s got you smiling like that?” Natsuo asks slyly. He’s cross legged, tie tossed irreverently over his shoulder, shirtsleeves rolled up to his forearms, having come straight from work. “A special someone?”

Shouto forces the muscles in his face to relax into feigned nonchalance. “Nobody. Nothing,” he says unconvincingly.

Rei enters the room with a modest tray of dango before Natsuo can open his big mouth. She’s wearing a bi-coloured hoodie. The sleeves slip as she sets the treats down on the table beside the green tea Fuyumi brewed earlier; another gift from Yaoyorozu’s family travels. Natsuo’s face twitches under Shouto’s unbroken stare, which is daring him to bring it up while their mother is here.

Then his phone vibrates and any possibility of peace is shattered.

His mother glances curiously at him, expression soft in the dewy afternoon light, and she smiles. “Are you speaking to one of your friends?” she asks. “Please tell Deku ‘thank you’ for sending me your new Shouto hoodie. It’s very warm”.

The words fill something cavernous inside him. Soothes the ache with gentle wonderment. She smiles down at his hero logo printed proudly across her chest, rubbing the hem between her finger and thumb. A younger Shouto could have only ever imagined it.

“I’m not so sure it’s a friend this time,” Natsuo teases, spoken with a playful, sing-song cadence. “Shouto wouldn’t text at the table and risk facing Fuyumi’s wrath just for a friend”.

Shouto does not pout. “I would risk anything for my friends,” he says, affronted; anything maybe except his older sister's well intentioned nagging. “…It’s a new friend, that’s all”.

Rei perks up, settling on her knees and laying the kotatsu blanket over her thighs. The quiet sound of plates and cups clinking together fade in from the kitchen. Natsuo hums, unconvinced, and hides a smile behind his mug. It's moments like this, when the people he loves are gathered in one place, and he can hear them in every corner of his home, that he’s glad for buying a smaller apartment.

“That’s wonderful, Shouto,” Rei murmurs as Fuyumi pads into the room, Nori not long behind her, threading through his elder sister's ankles. She too arrived right after work, donning a suit-skirt and blouse. “What’s their name?”

His thoughts stutter. Fuyumi’s nose wrinkles seeing the panic stark on his face. “Who are we talking about?”

“Beats me. Ask him,” Natsuo says, taking a stick of dango between his teeth as he tries not to grin when Shouto’s phone vibrates a second time. “I want to know who’s so eager to talk to my little brother”.

InsertNameHere ▻ Sooooobaaaaaaa ▻ I’m on my lunch keep me company

Shouto snatches up his phone to respond. He brings it closer to his face to allow Nori access to his lap. She monopolises the space instantly. “You’re not a teenager anymore, Shouto,” Fuyumi laments. “No phones during family time”.

“I know. I’m sorry, nee-san. I just need to…” his thumbs dance over the keyboard, head ducked in amalgamated shame and apology.

Sooba ▻ Question ▻ InsertNameHere ▻ What is your name?

InsertNameHere ▻ At the personal info stage already? You move fast. ▻ Tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine.

That stirs a faint unease in his gut and he understands better then. Anonymity is what gives people a sense of security and he isn’t exempt from that. In truth, right now he doesn’t want to know what might change if you knew who was on the other end yet.

Sooba ▻ You can call me whatever you want.

“Shouto”.

InsertNameHere ▻ That’s not even a line is it. ▻ Man. You’re dangerous.

Sooba ▻ ???

Shouto stares at the flickering dots by your username. You type, then stop. Type, then stop. As if you were deleting and starting over again. A habit of yours he’s quite endeared to. “Shouto!” Fuyumi huffs, poking a manicured finger into his side. Though short, the nail still causes him to flinch, and he’s quick to stretch his phone out of reach as her hand swipes through the air. “I mean it!”

Nori is jolted. She voices her immediate displeasure and Rei titters into her sleeve. The sleeve with his name stitched into the fabric. He breath catches, like it always does when his mother laughs. “Shouto doesn’t have to tell us anything until he’s ready,” she assured, offering him a gentle look—a look so sincere he feels awful for being evasive.

And his feeble resolve fractures.

“I don’t know,” he confesses bluntly. Natsuo and Fuyumi frown, at one another and then back at him, in unsettling synchrony cultivated through siblinghood. Shouto shrugs and pulls at a stray thread in his jeans cut loose under Nori’s claws, “I can’t tell you a name because I don’t know it”.

Natsuo appears mildly surprised. Fuyumi sinks into disbelief, feet curled beneath her body, going lax at his side. She drops her arm. “You… don’t know it?” she repeats.

“The app is anonymous,” he supplies hastily, attention flickering to his mother, far more worried about discerning her reaction. She’s unreadable. “My name isn’t on there either. We just talk about stuff”.

“Stuff?” his siblings' voices overlap, told apart only by the difference in tone. Natsuo’s shock has melted into some strange mix of pride and innuendo. “Is it that penpal thing everyone has been talking about? Enigma?”

“Enigmail,” he mutters. Natsuo lights up. Fuyumi does not share the sentiment.

“You’re a hero, Shouto! What if it’s someone with bad intentions?” she frets, brows drawn down and together, mouth pressed thin. “They could be tricking you. The internet is rife with predators, and—!”

“Nee-san. I’m a grown man. I understand the importance of internet safety,” Shouto interjects.

Natsuo slumps onto the table with a mawkish sigh, the sound steeped in fondness. “Let him have fun. You know he’s right, ‘Yumi, he’s an adult. It’s a wonder where all that time went,” he says. A few beats later he’s abruptly straightening his spine, “Gods, Fuyumi. You’re almost thirty five!”

Fuyumi glares from behind her glasses. She reaches across the kotatsu and swats lightly at his bicep, “Do you have to say it like that? You’re thirty one!”

“Please. Stop arguing,” Shouto says. He pets the unperturbed cat curled up on his thighs, “You might startle Nori”.

“Shouto. She’s deaf”.

Rei cuts their bickering short as she breathes, “When did you all get so big…” a serene smile hung on her lips, not a hint of grief to be seen. The answers surrounding your identity—or lack thereof—are lost to the nostalgia cloying in his throat.

They return to enjoying tea and dango after that. Shouto sets his phone face down on the floor and turns off vibrate. For now, he wants to ward off further interrogation.

His mother intuits this and steers the conversation in another direction, “Natsuo, how have things been at your new job? Are they treating you well?”

Things are good. Fuyumi’s class would soon be graduating, an award for Best Teacher polished and positioned on her desk. Natsuo had landed the job he always wanted—a medical welfare officer working closely with trauma survivors—and was already making waves. His mother, Rei, finally finished cultivating her traditional garden, weaving tales of lush foliage and water spouts. Touya too has been improving in his rehabilitation programme, according to his psychiatrist’s reports.

A tremor quakes through the tendons in Shouto’s forearm as he lifts his tea to sip the remaining dregs. Yaoyorozu outdid herself this time. If he hadn’t already known the price he would have discerned it from the refreshing, uniquely sweet taste. Thoughts of you cross his mind in these instances without warning. Would you like it? What’s your favourite tea?

Shouto scrunches his eyes shut as if it might wash those thoughts away. How is it that the stranger in his pocket possesses the ability to awaken such yearning in him; he feels mildly ashamed to have realised his loneliness with an audience.

The hour rolls into another. Shouto scrapes the last dango along the skewer with his teeth, jutting his chin to evade Nori’s curious sniffing. “This was lovely, Shouto. Thank you for having us over,” Fuyumi expressed as she carefully ran her hand along the feline's back.

Sensing the finality, Shouto motions to stand and sets Nori on the couch. Everyone protests it. He huffs, sliding a crutch over from where they lay nearby and letting it take his weight. A good decision, he thinks, inwardly grimacing as the blood rushes to his feet, prickling like violent white noise under his skin, and his knee almost gives out.

“I’m okay. The doctor told me I should be trying to move around more anyway,” he tells them, deigning to mention that he expended most of his energy tidying up this morning before their visit. “You’re my guests. I want to walk you to the door”.

Shouto tries not to bristle under their wary scrutiny. A cool hand slips around his arm then. His mother’s natural chill seeps through the sleeve of his shirt and allays the irritation. “We appreciate it, sweetheart,” she says.

“We do,” Fuyumi gently insists. “We’re happy to see you recovering well. Right, Natsu—?”

“Kiss tax!” Natsuo exclaims, oblivious to his surroundings. He scoops Nori up from the arm of the couch. She is comically tiny pressed against his chest. A continuous indignant drone rumbles in her throat as his brother peppers firm kisses to the top of her head.

“Put my baby down,” Shouto deadpanned.

“She isn’t your baby,” Natsuo slides one hand under Nori, the other carefully tucked into her armpits. He holds her close to Shouto’s face. Dramatic round eyes stare back; a flat expression emphasised by prominent cheekbones. Barely a hair's breadth between them, Nori begins to swipe her rough tongue against his scarred cheek. “See? You’re her baby”.

“Mine, too,” Rei rises to her tiptoes and scratches behind Nori’s ear, turning a smile toward Shouto. That same hand moved to cup his cheek. Though far taller than his mother, Shouto tips his head and finds himself feeling incredibly small as she presses a kiss to his forehead. “Your hair is getting long again,” she adds as she pulls away.

“I can trim it if it’s bothering you,” Fuyumi nods, sidling up beside Rei to survey the growth together. She brushes back the wayward strands framing his face and Shouto blinks. “Though, I think I like this look on you. What’s it called? A wolfcut?”

“I’m not sure. This is how Mina cut it a few months ago,” he replies.

Natsuo interjects without Nori in his grasp, now notably covered in short cat hair. He claps Shouto on the back and pulls him into a firm side hug, “She did good. Our handsome little Shouto”.

Initiating physical affection with his family was still a weary affair after all this time, though patently one sided. Having them touch him so freely always left him a little stupefied.

After they depart, Shouto hobbles to find his phone with all the grace of a newborn fawn. It is face down under the kotatsu cover right where he left it. And as it blinks to life, he skips the notifications from the 1A group chat to find your screen name at the bottom.

InsertNameHere ▻ My boss has these awful little nicknames for everyone in the agency. Mine’s ‘Maestro’. Nerd and butterfingers, too, but mostly Maestro. ▻ To do with my quirk and role, I suppose. Good for morale etc. His creativity astounds me (๑ಕ̴ _̆ ಕ̴) ﾝ？ ▻ Not that I don’t appreciate it but. Well shit, what about my morale? Lol ▻ You there? ▻ Sorry if I scared you off by getting personal.

Shouto worries at his bottom lip. Maestro. Something new about you. A foreign feeling churned in his chest. Faint, barely there, but new enough for him to notice. He’s not sure how to pin it; whether your mention of working at an agency bothers him or the fact that others, people who are not Shouto, get to see you everyday, close enough to give you a personal nickname.

Sooba ▻ Sounds like you have a good relationship. I’ve got a close friend who sounds similar. People say it’s just his love language ha ▻ And you didn’t scare me off. I’m the one who asked. Some family came to check on me.

He barely thinks it over before adding:

▻ My mother said hi by the way.

Your reply isn’t immediate but it is quicker than he expects.

InsertNameHere ▻ You’re right. I do like my boss sometimes. Maybe. And I love this job but I think it has aged me ten years. My ulcers have ulcers! ▻ Also—telling your family about me now too? We really are moving fast.

A soft huff of laughter jumps in his throat. There’s a distant clamoring near the kitchen. The sound of Nori’s bowl being pushed around the tile. Her absence clicks in place when he looks at the clock. He should feed her soon.

Sooba ▻ Technically it was only my mother, older sister and brother. ▻ But I can relate about the work stuff.

InsertNameHere ▻ Yeah? You mentioned being on leave because of an injury. Do you like your work?

That’s a question he has never asked himself, nor has he ever felt the need to. Heroism was the path life handed to him. The path he ultimately followed of his own volition. Shouto loves his family, his friends. He’s good at his job—enough to have made it into the top ten. And isn’t that all that matters?

Sometimes he would take a long, weary look out the revolving agency doors, recognise the heaviness in his bones and give the entire thing a second thought. But that never made any difference. Because people needed him. And he needed them too.

There’s a fleeting urge in that instance; a temptation to come clean, if only to sate his own curiosity. To compare the idealised image of what you looked like or how you sounded. He’s spent many a shameful night thinking up romanticised scenarios in his mind about what it would be like to meet you in real life. Shouto always squashes it. He doubts you’d believe him.

Ever perceptive to his moods, Nori chooses that moment to pad in from the kitchen and sit herself directly in his line of sight. She wails, demanding attention and lacking any volume control.

Right now he is not a hero but a man alone on two unsteady legs with a small living thing reliant upon him. He’s just Todoroki Shouto. He’s just—

Sooba ▻ As of right now my occupation is ‘Nori’s dad’. I like it pretty well.

Your reply is immediate.

InsertYourName ▻ Oh you have a kid?

Nori’s frustration grows. Her tail swishes back and forth, agitated. “It isn’t time to eat yet,” Shouto tells her, pulling up his phone camera and zooming in. On her next yowl the shutter goes off. The picture is perfect. Mouth wide open, large ears flat and nose wrinkled in displeasure, lips curled up to display her pink gums.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_0243] ▻ Something like that.

It’s a risk and he knows it. Though infrequently his team has posted Nori to his social media in the past at the delight of his fans—she was younger in those pictures, but if you were well acquainted with him there was the possibility of you putting the puzzle pieces together.

InsertNameHere ▻ Oh my god sooba. She’s so cute. Give her everything she asks for, you monster. ▻ Hey. Are those Ingenium themed crutch pads?

Anxiety rockets through him. He pulls up the photo and sure enough, his crutches are in the corner of the frame, laid within reach beside the couch. Secured around the handles are Ingenium themed pads to cushion his palms.

Sooba ▻ They are.

InsertNameHere ▻ Is he your favourite hero?

He turns his phone over in his hands before he types, overcome by an abrupt restlessness.

Sooba ▻ One of them. ▻ Do you have a favourite hero?

Nori wanders off in his periphery and not long after he hears the telltale sound of cardboard being torn apart. You stop typing, replies coming to a halt. He lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

It becomes clear you’re offline. Shouto spends the evening imagining your answer—ducking sheepishly at the idea that you might say him, then cringing at his reaction—and reading through his work emails.

Partnering with Hawks hasn’t been the worst thing in the world. Despite his carefree demeanour and general lack of personal space Hawks was professional and meticulous when it came to his work. As promised, Shouto was CC’d into every important thread and forwarded every significant incident report each day. Apparently there’s a big fundraiser tonight that he is unable to attend.

Hawks suggests matching Endeavor’s donation in spirit. Shouto doubles it.

The night air barely touches him. Leaning against the balcony railing he surveys the cityscape. A kaleidoscope canvas. He stares until the pinpricks of light stretch and bend, streaking his vision, regaining shape when he blinks. Nori is curled around his calf, playfully kicking her back legs at his ankle. She’s careful to never break skin.

It’s nearing midnight when you get back to him. A disconcertingly vague reply of:

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ve had enough of heroes.

Shouto waits for you to elaborate before presuming anything nefarious. He would hate for Fuyumi to be correct. She’d never let him forget it.

▻ Shit that made me sound bad, didn’t it? I promise I’m not a villain

He snorts, reclining himself into one of the chairs on his patio. Yaoyorozu insisted upon helping decorate the space. This piece in particular had been chosen by Uraraka, if only for its cocoon, egg-like shape. She always sat in it if she came over; Shouto can’t say he blames her, now curling up inside it himself, leaving one foot flat to the floor for Nori to cling to.

Sooba ▻ Only a little bit lol.

InsertNameHere ▻ I just mean for today! I’ve had enough for today! ▻ There’s… a whole lot of them at this work event I’m attending is all. ▻ See! ▻ [IMG_0589]

It’s the first picture you’ve ever sent to him that wasn’t a meme. Your legs are crossed, turned inward to show more of the showroom floor. There are people everywhere. You’ve overturned your lanyard in your lap, straps dotted with the charity logo, to display the back of your security pass. No identification. Just proof that you’re there—

Proof that you’re a real person, giving colour to the vague, shapeless figure in his head. The figure once outlined only by random tidbits, like your favourite food, the music you like, the movies you loved as a child. The figure now clad in tight fitting, seemingly pearlescent sheer material from the waist down.

—Shouto swallows dryly.

You have nice hands. He tries not to linger on that.

▻ That’s why I disappeared, btw. Sorry about that. ▻ I feel weirdly underdressed.

The logo on your lanyard has recognition prickling in the back of his mind. Hours earlier Midoriya had texted him two pictures from the ‘HEROKIND’ fundraiser Hawks mentioned. One being a selfie of him and an aggrieved Bakugo, each wearing their own fitted suit, and another of Uraraka in an evening gown stood behind the imposing silhouette that was his father, stealthily pointing her middle finger at his back.

He saved that one to his camera roll.

Sooba ▻ In that case I will close the HPSC anonymous tip line ▻ Sometimes people try too hard at those events and forget why they’re there. You look good from what I see.

InsertNameHere ▻ How very gracious (´・｀ ) ▻ Sounds like you have some experience with this kind of thing. My condolences lmao ▻ But thank you. I’m glad you think so.

Shouto entertains the idea of sending you something back. His eyes surreptitiously flicker around as though being watched. Nothing revealing who he is, but enough to maybe—

The camera captures a few of the modest flower beds and cat grass lining his balcony, Nori coiled around his bare ankle. He looks at his hand. Shuffles his hips further down to mirror your angle and flexes his fingers in his lap. Heat floods his body, guided by the shameless desire to inform the image you might have of him in your own head, too.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_288] ▻ At least you’re having more fun than I am.

You type for a long ten second interval. Then restart. A tedious minute elapses and just as regret creeps in, your messages come through.

InsertNameHere ▻ I’m not so sure about that. ▻ Actually it would probably be more bearable if you were here with me.

The sound of his heartbeat floods his ears. So warm it’s like he’s standing under the sun. Shouto belatedly realises it’s just his quirk, as the steam blows out through his nose. Nori butts his ankle in complaint. He bends to take her into his arms, feeling ridiculous and somewhat bad at being a person.

Sooba ▻ Think so? ▻ Just so you know I have been called socially inept on numerous occasions.

InsertNameHere ▻ Then we can hide together in the corner, get tipsy and sneak bits of the fancy spread.

This—doesn’t happen to Shouto. “Nori. I have feelings for a person I’ve never seen,” he pushes his face into Nori’s fur, and she purrs, feeling the vibrations of his voice. Admitting it aloud only highlights the absurdity. He feels out of his depth. And he decides he’s glad for the anonymity. Grateful, even. Lest he publicly humiliate himself and set off every fire alarm in the vicinity.

Sooba ▻ That sounds perfect.

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ll hold you to that. There’s another one of these coming up in two weeks. ▻ Prepare yourself (ꈍᴗꈍ)

“You’re really not helping,” he continues. Nori rubs insistently under his chin. “Fine, fine. I get it,” She croaks as he presses into the touch, mimicking her movement and cradling her as he gets up.

Before retiring to bed he pulls up Yaoyorozu’s contact. He settles into a comfortable position in the covers, propping his phone on his stomach, and he types:

Shouto : 00:14

I think I need help.

Consciousness eases into him slowly. It’s a sleepy pastel morning. Dust dances in the soft spotlight cast through his curtains. Shouto’s jaw unhinged to release a long yawn, limbs stretching every which way under the covers as his joints click.

Shouto props up on his elbow, twisting in place to reach and unplug his phone. He blinks away the blurriness hemming his vision and squints at the stack of messages from Enigmail right at the top of his notifications.

InsertNameHere ▻ Oh shit. Hero Shouto donated double the amount of what Endeavor gave and he couldn’t even be here tonight. That’s hilarious. Can that guy get any hotter ▻ I didn’t intend for that to be a pun. ▻ These cocktails are becoming suspiciously easy to drink. ▻ You’re probably sleeping like a good boy but I miss you. Wake up! ▻ Have you ever had feelings for someone you’ve never met

The loose tongued messages stop there, at around one o’clock in the morning. Then there’s a seven hour jump to only ten minutes ago.

▻ Oh my god. Please ignore all of that. And then kill me.

Hardly awake, sleepsand still crusty at the corners of his eyes, Shouto’s mind reels as he considers pinching himself. He doesn’t know which part to focus on. Your apparent—and unknowing—attraction to him as a public figure or the implication that you had feelings for Sooba.

But you’re obviously embarrassed. So he bites back a smile and starts with something simple.

Sooba ▻ Good morning to you too ▻ Remember to drink water and take some bufarin.

Sitting upright with legs hung over the bed, Shouto clicks out to his text app by way of distraction. There’s another photo from Midoriya. This time it’s just him. Speckled light glitters along his cheeks, expression beaming as the hero holds a piece of sashimi in front of his pink face. Shouto heart reacts to the text.

InsertNameHere ▻ Send more Nori

He chuckles, sleepy. That makes known Nori’s absence. Strange, he muses. She is usually the one to wake him. Rather than search he scrolls through his albums to find a photo you hadn’t seen yet. It was taken a few months ago. He’d slipped his camera under her chin and pressed the shutter when she looked down, looming over the viewer with a dumbfounded look.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_142]

After a few minutes with no response, assuming that you had accepted his bribe and sought out some painkillers, Shouto braced against his bedside table and stood, phone in hand. Every muscle in his body felt like wet sand, held together by too tight skin. This morning, though, the incessant ache that beat alongside his heart was gone.

Walking still felt as though he was wading through molasses but strength was steadily returning to his physique.

The floor is cool under the soles of his feet as they shuffle down the hallway. There’s a noise in the kitchen that gives Shouto pause. A voice, hushed yet high pitched voice, cooing like someone might to an infant.

He drops into an ungainly defensive stance, pyjama bottoms and all. Worst case scenario they at least hang low on his hips, loose around his legs, leaving room for flexible movement. He rounds the corner without a sound.

And relief beats like a drum in his chest.

Yaoyorozu meets his gaze from the kitchen island where one hand is petting a very happy Nori, sipping from a glass of water with the other. Her face is bare, shadows soft under her eyes, hair pulled haphazardly into a low ponytail as if she had just rolled out of bed and rushed here. Creati in a bleach stained hoodie and leggings. The press would have a field day.

The sight brings a small smile to his face. Their schedules have been misaligned for months. It’s good to see her—if only her expression had not then darkened. “Todoroki Shouto,” she says with all the authority of an older sibling, “What on earth was that text last night? You had me worried sick”.

“Text?” he parrots dumbly, looking to check his phone.

InsertNameHere ▻ Painkillers acquired. Thank you Nori ▻ I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable last night.

“I let myself in with the key you gave me. I hope that was alright,” she continues, quiet and apologetic now. He skims over your reply and switches to check his text app. Sure enough the last thing he sent to her was an ambiguous plea for help.

“Of course it’s alright,” he replies, regarding her with a meaningful look to cover for how sheepish he truly feels. “I gave you the key because you’re always welcome here”.

Yaoyorozu smiles on the end of an exhale, idle hands smoothing down Nori’s cheeks. “Of course,” she echoes, examining his form closely now her anxiety is assuaged. Over him comes the muted awareness that he’s being judged. “How about we go on a short walk for once, since I’m here? The weather is quite pleasant”.

Shouto steps forward with mouth downturned, “Momo, I assure you I’m fine. You don’t need to walk me like a dog,” he says, wincing thereafter at his bluntness. She only hums.

“When was the last time you went anywhere?”

Very uselessly he replies, “I go places”.

Yaoyorozu’s potential to lead and assert had never escaped him, not even in his teenage years, and it was something he staunchly admired her for. But never has he resented his own affinity for compliance more than he does the moment she ignores his pouting and tells him to finish his morning gait training and get changed.

Dressed casually and statuesque in the centre of his living room, left leg lifted to mimic a flamingo, Shouto’s limbs shake far less than previous days. He can hold his phone while he balances now, too. You haven’t sent any new messages. Probably waiting for him to assure you that he isn’t upset, but even so he’s a smidge disappointed.

Sooba ▻ I’m here. A friend appeared in my kitchen. ▻ You don’t need to apologise for anything, I wasn’t uncomfortable. I've received worse drunk texts I assure you.

He switches to his right leg and chews the inside of his cheek. Facing villainy was far less daunting than navigating his feelings.

▻ I thought it was cute.

That’s about as brave as he felt today.

Yaoyorozu resurfaces from the coat closet with a jacket in hand and a pep in her step. There’s something else coiled around her wrist. Nori’s cat leash, red and attached to a blue harness, matching Shouto’s hero colours.

“Can we bring her along?” she asks, bouncing in place. Upon recognising the leash Nori makes her opinion known, releasing a drawn out yowl. “Oh please, Shouto”.

Nori didn’t regularly enjoy walking but she had been trained to do so from a young age. She was peculiar and picky, and Shouto trusted her to let him know if ever she wanted anything—something she never failed to do.

“Are you sure?” he murmurs, bending to tap her nose. It wrinkles, a stray tooth flashing between her lips. “If you get tired I won’t carry you”.

Nori blinks. A lie and they both know it.

Shouto sighs, defeated. “Okay. She hasn’t wanted to in a while so I can’t really deny her”.

“Wonderful,” Yaoyorozu breathes, handing him his jacket before undoing the harness and crouching to slip Nori’s paws through one by one. “We can grab a warm drink to go from the cafe downstairs and talk”.

Shucking the jacket on and flattening the collar, Shouto dithers in the genkan with his crutches nearby. He tucks the wayward strands of hair into a knitted hat and loops his mask around his ears. The scar couldn’t be helped but atleast this way a majority of people would not think to look twice.

They leave the apartment together, all three. In the short time it takes to step out of the building's lobby you still haven’t replied. He shoves his free hand in his pocket, fingers clasped around his phone in case it vibrates.

The establishment across from Shouto’s home has been open for longer than he’s been alive. An elderly couple named Pierre-Louis and Tsutomu run the place. The two men moved back to Japan decades ago to care for Tsutomu’s sick mother, and with Pierre-Louis’ incredibly unusual coffee quirk ‘Bean Boost’, opening a cafe seemed the right route to take.

Since moving here they’ve endeared themselves to Shouto. If they see him on his way to work Tsutomu will often rush to offer him a takeout cup. This morning is no different.

“Mon petit chou!”

Tsutomu slides open the walk up window and calls his name, beckoning them closer. The breeze tousles the short grey curls around his ears. Shouto’s heart near stops when the older man leans out to greet Nori as she stretches upward and almost loses balance. “Tsutomu-san, please be careful,” he says.

“I am still rather spry, young man. Don’t worry about me,” he returns happily, gaze moving to Yaoyorozu when he rights himself. “Lovely to see you again, Momo-chan. Have you come to rescue our prince from his cave?”

Indignant, Shouto grumbles, “I wish you would all stop acting as though I’m a hermit. I haven’t been stuck indoors that long”.

The two level him with a look of doubt. Tsutomu gently pinches his cheek and rubs a thumb over the swell above the mask. “Your pallor betrays you, Shouto. Let the sun kiss you more, no? We worry”.

“Tout va bien?” another voice interjects. Pierre-Louis squeezes up next to his husband, ignoring his disgruntled noise, and brightens when he sees Shouto on the other side. “Mon chou, you’ve emerged! And with two beautiful girls at your side”.

Yaoyorozu muffled a laugh while Nori busied herself chewing on the nearby grass, leash never pulling too far. “Pierre-Louis,” Shouto murmurs, unable to keep the fond lilt out of his voice. “It’s good to see you both”.

“And you,” he beams. The wrinkles by his eyes deepen. Shouto never met his grandparents but he thinks perhaps this is the closest he’ll get. “Are you going anywhere special?”

“We’re just taking a walk, Pierre-Louis. I thought it might be nice to get a warm drink for the journey,” Yaoyorozu spoke warmly and nudged his side. “Where better than here?”

“Bien sûr! Will that be one earl grey and one green tea?”

Shouto nods at her questioning glance, “Loose leaves today, please”, he adds.

Pierre-Louis disappears to make their drinks, shortly returning with two takeout cups, steam pluming softly from the mouth. Shouto swaps his crutch to his right side and accepts the green tea with his left hand, heat seeping through the cardboard sleeve.

“How much will it be—?”

“Nonsense,” Tsutomu interrupts with a sudden switch to English. He shakes his finger, silencing any protest, and his husband gives a resolute nod in support. “Take it, mon chou. Call it a family discount”.

Shouto bids them a dazed goodbye, leaving the walk up window; a lump in his throat that he tries to wash down with hot heat, tongue impervious to the temperature. “They’re very sweet. I’m glad you have them,” Yaoyorozu muses. “What is it they call you? ‘Chou’?”

“Mon petit chou,” he repeats clumsily, accent slightly gawky. “I asked Aoyama a while ago and he told me it means ‘my little cabbage’”.

Yaoyorozu pauses and Nori continues ahead, leaping up onto a nearby half wall with her tail hooked high. She pounces on a crack between the bricks, blissfully unaware of the nearby traffic, trying to eat a ladybug.

“My little cabbage?”

Shouto hums, squinting up at the early sun, rising in a blanket of pale blue and mottled grey clouds. The air is refreshingly cool. “Apparently it’s something French parents call their children,” he shrugs, as though he were not then warmed from the inside out at the reminder that they truly did see him as one of their own.

“That’s lovely,” she says, slowing to match his pace. He’s not tired so much as he is enjoying the morning dew. They follow a familiar path. Turning down a hidden narrow walkway that leads to a neighbourhood park. Nori’s chitters fill the spaces left by comfortable silence.

Yaoyorozu suggests sitting at one of the picnic tables. Tall trees flanked the area on either side, columns rising to create a weave of foliage that shrouded them in gold. The old wood is cold under his thighs. Nori hops up onto the bench, ears flat to her head, and hisses at a dog across the way which hasn’t even noticed her presence.

“So,” Shouto glances over toward Yaoyorozu as she speaks. Her arms are settled on the tabletop, fingers curled around the disposable cup and swirling the liquid inside. “Are you going to tell me what you were panicking about last night?”

He picks at the cardboard sleeve, twisting it, and supposes this was inevitable. Slipping down his mask, Shouto brings the tea to his lips in distraction, grasping for a way to articulate his situation without simply saying: “I have feelings for my anonymous online friend”.

In the end he realises there really isn’t any other way.

Yaoyorozu listens intently, as he expected she would. Of all his well intentioned friends Shouto knew she’d be the most open to his reasoning. Her expression visibly softens while he wrings his hands and rambles about the palpable connection that he first attributed to his own loneliness—

Rambles about you; you, the one now carried with him everywhere, the presence weaving his days into tapestry; you, accepting of his random thoughts, giving of your own; you, unintentional charm and bad jokes and sharp wit; you, faceless and voiceless, the one to receive first and last thought.

He expels his fears. Concerns of who you really are. Of what you might think upon learning his identity—if you wouldn’t like him anymore, or if his own feelings might change after meeting you offline, and if that makes him a terrible, shallow person.

Then he mentions the photo from the Herokind event and her head cocks in interest. “May I see?” she asks. Shouto murmurs his agreement and pulls his phone out from his pocket.

You’ve messaged him.

InsertNameHere ▻ Appeared? Like, teleported?? ▻ I’m glad we’re ok. I would miss you otherwise. ▻ But you can’t know I’m cute. You’ve never seen me lol

Shouto is typing back with unfounded confidence before he realises it.

Sooba ▻ I don’t need to see you to know that.

Then his eyes flicker to Nori, staring up at him clad in her Shouto themed harness, lip caught on her scraggle tooth. He takes a quick picture. Examining it before sending, he notices Yaoyorozu’s slender hands in the background, and wonders if you might be jealous.

He scoffs inwardly at his own childishness and sends the photo.

▻ Not teleported hah, just came in with a spare key. We are out walking now.

“Sorry—I just wanted to reply first,” Shouto clears his throat and presses his phone into her now proffered hand. Given without question.

Something flickers in her expression at your photo; it’s a brief shift that flies over her gaze like a shadow. Her thumbs pinch and part on the screen as she zooms in. “I was there for a few hours last night,” she says. “I recognise this outfit. Would it not be easier to check the list of attendants?”

“…That doesn’t feel fair,” he admits soberly. “I know that’s silly”.

“It’s not silly,” she affirms with a small smile, fingers now moving as she types. “You are aware of your position. You have the resources to find them and presumably they do not. Of course it seems unfair”.

It’s testament to their friendship that he feels no need to check what she’s doing. Her brows furrow slightly, then arch into her hairline, eyes brightening. Pleased, Yaoyorozu locks the device and hands it back.

“What did you do?”

“Don’t worry. I didn't do anything untoward,” she replies. “But I do know who you’re talking to now”.

Shouto’s fingers flex around his phone. “You do?” he breathes, incredulous. Just like that?

Yaoyorozu nods, lending her attention to Nori. “I don’t have a name. But if you want to find them I think you’ll want to speak to Bakugo-kun”.

“Bakugo…?” Shouto echoes.

“I believe your friend may work for him,” she clarifies. Ah. The clamouring in his head comes to a halt. In hindsight it’s clear. Your nicknames make sense now.

“I’ll think about it,” he swallows, bringing his tea to his face for another sip. He finds it tepid and warms it again with his quirk. Yaoyorozu doesn’t push.

They spend the hour catching up on the things Shouto has missed in the weeks he’s been absent, and the weeks prior. Midoriya’s claims of him being a workaholic become a reality he can’t outrun. Tea finished, Shouto takes both cups and disposes of them in the recycling bin. Yaoyorozu stands from the picnic table with Nori cradled to her breast—Nori stares back at him, smug—and they make their way back to his apartment.

“Shouto,” she coaxed, now standing outside the tall glass doors leading to the lobby. Nori’s claws sink into the collar of his jacket as she’s passed to him. He takes her leash from Yaoyorozu, bunching it up; and she covers his enclosed fist with her hand.

“Go for it,” she tells him, giving a firm squeeze. “I’m rooting for you. Just be safe”.

Stepping back into his apartment, his cheeks are warm and his limbs are trembling. You’ve buzzed inside his pocket three times.

InsertNameHere ▻ Oh my god. How can such a perfect creature exist? And her harness! Shouto colours? ▻ I hope you’re having fun. <3 ▻ You know, you never answered my question from last night

“You don’t think I’m hopeless, do you Nori?” Shouto asks the thin air—Nori has already scrambled toward the nearby shoebox, bunny kicking at the corner as she chews. He sighs.

Yaoyorozu’s encouragement rings loud in his ears while he replies.

Sooba ▻ Yes. I think I’ve had feelings for a person I’ve never met.

And it feels like a confession.

Shouto sees the week come to an end before he finds enough strength, physically and mentally, to visit Bakugo’s agency.

Your conversations have evolved. They carry a flirty undertone now, the verbal toeing of the line that makes his heart pitter patter. You send pictures throughout the day. Always angled away from your face. Swathes of skin. A pen between your fingers. Stacked paperwork and an empty coffee cup. The burgeoning skies on your walk home. Comfortable at home, your legs crossed over the other, a fluffy slipper hanging at the end of your foot.

He never knew so much thought had to go into making a photo appear candid, effortless. At one point he purposefully shuffled his workout shorts lower on his hips and spent the remainder of the afternoon mortified with his head deep between the couch cushions.

Liking another person is humiliating. He feels exposed, like a flesh wound that you won’t stop prodding.

InsertNameHere ▻ [IMG_412] ▻ I hope you have a good day!

You’re sitting at your desk, presumably. A slide knot bracelet hangs loose around your wrist. Hand held out over the mouse and keyboard, you’ve pinched your thumb and finger—smudged with black in—together to make a heart shape. It’s cute. You’re cute. He files the pose away for any later run-ins with paparazzi. His PR has been getting on about trying harder when they photograph him for months.

Shouto’s body rocks with the train car as it careens down the tracks and readjusts his grip on his crutch. He smiles behind his mask, sinking into the confines of his hood which he has pulled over his cap. There are eyes on him today. It can’t be helped in such close quarters. But they’re uncertain—too afraid to bother him and be wrong about his identity.

Sooba ▻ You too :) ▻ Remember to take breaks. I read that you should spend five minutes away from your screen every hour.

InsertNameHere ▻ You have to stop making me smile at work. My coworkers think I have a secret husband or something.

Sooba ▻ I promise to send you off with a homemade bento tomorrow morning.

InsertNameHere ▻ And a kiss.

Shouto grabs the nearby pole as he is almost knocked on his feet. Passengers board, others depart, and his heart hammers in his throat like a fist.

Sooba ▻ A kiss?

You’re still typing a reply when Shouto hears the hesitant evocation of his name. It’s timid and hushed, belonging to a person trying to restrain their excitement. She covers her mouth with a gasp when he meets her eyes.

“It is you,” she bubbles. A metallic taste pervades the static air around her, short hair wiggling on end as if it were responding directly to her excitement; behaviour unbefitting of a typical reporter, he notes.

Your text box jumps onto the screen in his peripheral vision, bumping up the chat. He jolts and angles the phone away from her just to be safe.

InsertNameHere ▻ Yeah! A bento box and a kiss to get me through the day, obviously. As my husband.

There are three others a few feet away, huddled together beside a pillar and abuzz with energy. Mild dread churns in his stomach. Definitely not a reporter, then. “If you have a moment…” the young woman spares a glance over her shoulder and her friends excitedly encourage her forward. “Um. Would you maybe be interested in—”

“No,” Shouto replies. The young woman winces at his tone. Ah. She’s embarrassed now. He really should make a habit of lying in consideration for other people's feelings. Fuyumi did mention that, though not in as many words. Before her face can crumple further he continues, “I’m very sorry, that was rude of me. I’m in a bit of a hurry”.

Her relief is palpable, near contagious. Expression softened with understanding she folds her hands against her stomach and ducks into a slight bow. “Of course, I understand,” she says. Somehow it makes him feel worse. “And—I’m glad you’re well, Shouto-san. We’re all wishing you a complete recovery”.

Gratitude bubbles inside him. He smiles, pressing a finger over his mask, and her complexion turns a bright shade of pink. She nods in understanding, scurrying to her friends.

Shouto departs the train without disruption. The conductor takes stock of his gait and the crutch at his side, offering to lay out the ramp, but he politely refuses, stepping onto the platform with ease. He feels good; closer to his other self, the one before his muscles were run through a metaphorical centrifuge.

Sooba ▻ Obviously. ▻ I suppose I can add ‘house husband’ alongside ‘Nori’s dad’ on my list of occupations now.

Blast Zone isn’t far, a fact for which he’s grateful. Bakugo insisted on rooting himself in the centre of the city, right in the spot where all transport routes seemed to meet; there stood the symbol of victory’s headquarters, imposing in the skyline.

According to journalists at PowrStruct magazine The Blast Zone agency is an ode to modern architecture. A steel frame structure surrounded by reinforced concrete, an outer coating embossed with a texture that gives the award winning building the fragile appearance of having been meticulously glued back together while simultaneously being both blast proof and earthquake proof. Shouto cares not for design in general. He does, however, steal a mini Dynamite themed pen from the front desk while he’s waiting to be signed in.

There’s a thin chain attached to the cap with a Chibi Bakugo hung on the end. Sue him.

“He’ll see you now, Shouto-san,” the receptionist states, pupil-less eyes blinking back at him. Shouto tucks the pen into his sleeve, feeling foolish and somewhat nervous. “Head on up to the office on the twelfth floor. He knows you’re on your way”.

Shouto clears his throat. “Thank you,” he says, weakness in his knees that has nothing to do with his nerves. The Ingenium handle pads cushion his palm as he braces onto his crutches, supporting him toward the nearby lift. There are eyes on his back as he goes. They’re heavy, lingering like physical touch. Something in him spoils at the unnecessary pity.

The lift remains mercifully empty. He presses the twelfth floor button and it glows green. The ride up is smooth, and quick. Double doors slide open onto a sprawling office space flooded with natural light. No one bothered to glance in Shouto’s direction as he gawked. If he remembered correctly this area was specifically for employees that worked closest to Bakugo. They’re all so nonplussed and focused. No nonsense. He likes that.

“Loser,” Bakugo grunts. He appeared from thin air, standing aside with arms crossed over his chest, eyeing Shouto’s stiff form with suspicion. “What the fuck are you doing here? You’re still on leave”.

Shouto makes a noncommittal noise, inwardly miffed. He straightens his posture and takes more of his own weight. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. Maybe I missed you,” he says. Bakugo’s expression suddenly soured, as though he swallowed a lemon, mouth thin against his teeth.

Amusing as it is, acknowledging the disconnect aloud makes him truly accept the distance he had put between himself and his friends; how he’d worked too hard, untied himself from the tangle of their lives and ended up isolated.

“Nori told me to say ‘hi’ by the way”.

Bakugo sweetens. “She like that cardboard house I sent you?”

“She already destroyed it,” Shouto admits. And Bakugo laughs, irritation split by a crooked grin.

“Atta girl,” he nods in approval, turning on his heel and starting toward a pair of towering doors. “Oi. You comin’? Or are you going to stand there all damn day?

Dynamite’s office is anything but corporate. Professional, yes, but it’s also so plainly personal in a way that screams Bakugo. A setup reconfigurable for days that he can’t sit still, a folding treadmill under his large mahogany desk to keep him moving. Bakugo works better on his feet, something Shouto knows well.

Built in shelves line the accent wall, filled with framed pictures of friends and family, newspaper clippings and awards. There are even fan creations—mostly from his debut era, when being favoured felt far more significant, but Shouto finds it sweet all the same.

Walking ahead of him, Shouto approaches the desk. Bakugo lingers for a beat to holler something out the door before returning to his desk.

Two consult chairs face the head office chair opposite. Lowering into one of them, Shouto props his crutch up and takes his phone out of his pocket. Ever hopeful, he unlocks it, opens Enigmail and refreshes the chat list. There are new messages from a few other people he added in the beginning, but nothing from you. He tries not to sigh too obviously.

“What’s got you all fuckin’ mopey?" Bakugo leaned over to look down at the phone. Shouto hastily locked it and the explosive hero narrowed his eyes at the impassive veil Shouto pulled over his face.

“Nothing. How did the first Herokind event go?” he asks, fiddling with his newly acquired Dynamite pen. “Midoriya always sugar coats things for me”.

“Went fine. You didn’t miss anything,” Bakugo waves off. The leather office chair creaks as he leans back. “Boring as all hell since it was just the kickstarter. Food mild enough for a toddler to eat and too much alcohol. The auction will be more interesting. That birdbrain partner of yours was hilarious, though”.

“Hawks?” Shouto’s mouth twitches, failing to conceal his mirth. “What did he do this time?”

“Spent the night antagonising your shitty old man,” Bakugo pauses for a brief moment and rescinds his words. “Or aggressively flirting. Can't tell the difference with him”.

Shouto keeps his thoughts to himself on that one.

“Ended with Endeavor triggering all the sprinklers at the after party though,” Bakugo ends, eyes crinkled under the weight of his wicked grin. Shouto pursed his lips tight. Amusement huffed through his nose. He imagines his father standing in the middle of the room, pathetically soaked through, wisps of smoke rising from his put-out embers, and he laughs.

Bakugo looks rather pleased by the reaction. But then his gaze flickers over Shouto’s shoulder and his brow arches expectantly. “Did’ya need something? I shouted for the Egghead because I thought you were on your break”.

Shouto’s laughter dwindles as he follows Bakugo’s line of sight. His breath catches. An employee stands in the doorway peeking around a tall box of paperwork. Wide eyed as they examine him.

Wrapped around their wrist is a familiar sliding knot bracelet.

“I just—uh…”

His head spins. There’s a smudge on your finger where your pen's ink leaked, just like in the photo. Could this be you? You are—

“What the hell has gotten into everybody today,” Bakugo tuts, pushing up from his desk and striding over to receive the box himself. Your shoulders slump when you are relieved of the weight. Bringing your hands to your chest and massaging the joints.

—still looking right at him. Cute. He cannot help but think how cute you are, tripping over your words, losing your footing.

“Oi, maestro,” Bakugo clicks his fingers in your face and startles you out of your stupor. “Get it together. I need you with a clear head when that sleepy bastard from the HPSC gets here”.

You glare at Bakugo, “Mera-san is the least of your problems, Dynamite. Worry about yourself and the six unanswered emails I forwarded to you from the claims manager”.

You’re beautiful. And your voice, it’s so—his lips part, and he tries to speak, to interrupt Bakugo’s incessant teasing, but words fail him.

“Whatever. Those insurance claims are bullshit and you know it,” Bakugo mutters. He turns and moves to shove the box of paperwork beside the desk. His mouth downturns into a smirk when he stands and notices your attention drawn to Shouto once again.

“Is that everything? I’d appreciate it if you stopped gawking,” Bakugo drawls, a dry rasp to his taunting that seems to embarrass you further. Shouto isn’t sure he’s breathing. You’re right there. You’re within reach and he’s rooted to his chair.

“You’re such a—! Y’know what, no, I’m leaving now,” replying harshly you start toward the open door where you come to an abrupt halt. Shouto feels the distance like the pull of a leash. You incline your head into a short bow, losing strength in your voice as you acknowledge him, “Have a good afternoon, Shouto-san”.

Then you’re gone. He stares after you dumbly. In all the years he has worked in the hero industry Shouto has never been more thankful for choosing to make his given name his brand than he is now.

Bakugou falls heavily in his chair and sighs.

Shouto swallows, “Who was—”

“Don’t,” Bakugo stresses the command, as though telling a dog to heel. Shouto can feel the heat behind his pointed glare. Undeterred, his eyes linger after you, stuck on the spot where you once stood, heart beating like a hummingbird’s wing.

“I mean it, Halfie. Run off the only competent PA I’ve ever had with your pisspoor flirting and I will kill you,” Bakugo barrels on. There’s no true malice but it comes through gritted teeth, like he has resigned himself to the impending stupidity. Because Shouto is already looking back at him with that small, impish curl to his lips.

“I’m not that terrible at flirting,” he says.

“Making eye contact for three uninterrupted minutes is not flirting,” Bakugo scoffs.

Shouto hums. “And what is? Pulling their pigtails for ten years?”

“Watch it,” Bakugo grouses, bottom lip jutting. He kicks the leg of Shouto’s chair and he laughs; he’s missed this.

Hoping to get back on track then, Shouto asks, “Will you be attending the charity auction, then?”

The other man grunts an affirmative. “I’ve put some memorabilia and shit up to be sold. Sparky somehow convinced Eijirou to auction himself off for a date,” Bakugo snorts and gives an amused shake of his head. “I’m willing to bet he’ll rake in at least ten million yen. Minimum”.

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Shouto agrees. Kirishima had grown a lot since graduation all those years ago. Pair a stocky build with a big hearted guy like him and everyone is tripping over themselves to get a piece. “Is he nervous that he won’t make much?”

Bakugo clicks his teeth, interlocking his hands across his midsection and getting comfortable. “He really hasn’t got a fucking clue. The HPSC schmuck I’ve got to talk to today has already suggested extra security in case certain high profile guests get resentful,” he says. Crimson peeks through narrowed eyes, considering, calculating. “Are you gonna go? You’re looking steady enough”.

The last Bakugo had seen of him was directly after the incident—crumpled into the fetal postion and involuntarily spasming with six second intervals. Unable to speak, to walk, to turn his head. Worst case scenario presented on scene was that he could lose the ability to function at all, and Shouto had been thrown into a pit of depression so oppressive that he withdrew from himself all together.

There’s an underlying relief in Bakugo’s question that comforts him in ways he wasn't aware he’d been seeking. Pleased, Shouto drags his crutch between his thighs and twists at the padding around the handle. “I’ll be in attendance. I plan on bidding on a few things. David Shield’s original design sketches maybe,” he admits. “…Will ‘maestro’ be there?”

Bakugo seems to parse the response carefully, as if it cracked open a hole into Shouto’s psyche. “Izuku is shooting for those, you know. I’m the one that’s gotta deal with him cryin’ if he loses”.

“I know,” Shouto’s mouth splits in a wry, intentional smile. “If I’m not outbid then I’m happy to give him whatever I win”.

“Shill bidding? Ha. Izuku never believes me when I tell him you’re secretly a dick,” Bakugo smirks. A thought visibly crosses his mind. He props his elbow on the arm of his chair, chin resting in his palm and considering Shouto closely. “…My PA will be there for the auction. Working. So if you show me up—”

“I won’t,” Shouto interjects.

“—I will see you to the pearly gates myself,” Bakugo continues, unperturbed. There’s no true malice to his tone, moreso fond resignation, and Shouto’s chest bubbles with affection for his hard headed friend.

“That’s nice of you,” he says sincerely.

“Get fucked. You want an update on the cases we opened this week or did you seriously come here just to annoy me?”

“To annoy you, mostly,” Shouto ducks away from the hand that swiped at him. “Hawks forwarded me the arrest report. Tremor ended up going for a plea deal?”

“Yeah. Sold out the extras that helped him gather the hostages,” a forceful click of the keyboard; Bakugo slaps the spacebar to wake his monitor and makes clear his disapproval. “They went too fuckin’ easy on him,” he sneers. “Deserved a longer sentence”.

“As long as they’re off the streets,” Shouto muses. He isn’t one to hold a grudge against villains who’ve harmed him, but he can understand his friends' frustration. Had it been Bakugo or Midoriya, Shouto too wouldn’t be so quick to accept this outcome.

The gentle light flooding through the office windows recedes a fraction as a dense cloud covers the sun. His visit to the Blast Zone is but a blip of time, cut short by the foreboding ring from Bakugo’s emergency pager. He’s up and moving immediately, routine woven into him like muscle memory, and Shouto can’t help feeling jealous.

Under the door to his office, Bakugo clears his throat. He cocks his head toward the impending rain, “You need me to have someone drive you home?” And appears to regret it right away as Shouto smiles up at him, touched by the suggestion.

“No, thanks but I’ll be fine,” he waves off. Bakugo departs with a grunt, demanding he take an umbrella from the receptionist, because who doesn’t check the weather before they leave the house. The thud of his work boots reverberate off the walls as he disappears around a sharp corner, and Shouto shifts in the residual silence.

He takes out his phone as he pushes upright on his crutch; a habit rather than necessity. You haven’t messaged him since before your paths crossed—though you wouldn’t know that. He sighs. A niggling guilt has burrowed into his chest but it remains largely outweighed by his impatience.

Employees greet him on his short journey to the lift he arrived in. Bowing their heads, evoking his name with appreciation and awe while he’s scanning the space for signs of you. It’s a fruitless affair. Coming up short he steps inside, frown etched into his brow, and presses the ground floor button.

The speaker alerts him that the doors are about to close. He turns on his heel, leaning a hand on the support bar. Looking up from his shoes his eyes fall on your figure. You’ve stepped out from one of the closed off rooms, thumb tapping away at the phone in your hand. Shouto swallows, watching his own with trepidation.

Sensing a heavy gaze your eyes flicker to meet him at the last second, contact through the crack right as it shuts. He can hardly think. If this were a scene in Quirky Hearts he thinks he might just cast aside his dignity and sprint up the fire escape to confront you. The mere idea has heat simmering under his skin; it makes him want to fold himself into singularity. Shouto, a top five hero, a sword without ire.

Waiting dutifully, the receptionist hands him an umbrella from behind the staff desk. He squints at her name tag, muttering “Thank you, Akiyama-san” while he tucks the umbrella under his arm, deigning to mention the murky blueish blush that floods her skin, those pupil-less eyes shimmering. Shouto pulls his mask up over his nose, breath warming his cheeks, and takes a moment to observe the street.

Throngs of people scurry along the pavements to get away from the unforgiving chill. Raindrops can become a thousand paper cuts when the wind wills it. Afternoon starters amble into the lobby with wet shoulders. In his departure nobody so much as looks his way.

Sooba ▻ Hope you didn’t forget an umbrella today. Stay warm.

His thumb stopped mid-air, right above the “send” button. Sparing a lasting glance to the upper floors, Shouto quickly presses it, pockets his phone and opens up the umbrella. Stepping into the storm white noise fills his ears, tapping harshly on the PVC canopy over him.

Shouto tugs his jacket closer to his chest. The pavements are soaked, water fed into the uprooted cracks. He threads through the moving bodies back toward the station. With the streets overcast he feels better concealed.

A train is already waiting at the platform, decorated in yellow. The colour identifies it as a slow running train, taking the local stops route rather than the rapid one. He hides in his collar and stands in the corner of the carriage, umbrella collapsed and hooked over his wrist.

Six stops later—rather than three—and Shouto is closer to home. In the time it took to reach his street the rain had thinned out, now a sparse sun shower as the clouds pushed eastward.

Nori yells accusingly the very second his key slots into the door. He turns the lock and pushes it open, holding out his foot to keep her from rushing past. “I know, I know. I’m sorry sweet girl,” he scratched her head while bent to line up his shoes. “I missed you too. Bakugo said ‘hi’”.

She mewls and circles in place on her delicate paws, flicking her tail at him. Shouto takes it as forgiveness. “I think I met someone special today,” he recites to her, “The one I told you about…”

Stopping in the middle of his warm apartment, Shouto becomes unbearably aware of how damp his clothes are. He fishes his phone and wallet out from his pockets and sets them on the kitchen island before padding toward the bathroom.

A thorough rinse and long soak later, Shouto sprawls himself across his couch, phone laid on his chest and arm hung loosely over the edge while Nori plays with his fingers. She clings to his forearm as he cups her full belly, lazily dragging her back and forth across the floor.

He’s sipping on the mouth of his water bottle, mindlessly watching as Aki-or-something begs for Saeko-or-other to take him back after going on a date with another contestant, when your messages come through on Enigmail.

InsertNameHere ▻ Guess what happened today ▻ Saw Pro Hero Shouto at work. ▻ I think he might hate me? lol

Shouto inhales sharply, choking on his mouthful of water. Tears prickle behind his eyes as his diaphragm spasms, and he tries to catch his breath, fist thudding at his chest. Oscillating between mortification and delight—it really had been you.

Sooba ▻ Why would you think he hates you?

InsertNameHere ▻ I left an awful impression. And he looked at me like this (⊙＿⊙’) the whole time.

Heat burns at his nape; embarrassment spilling over into every crevice of his body. The air around him distorts and he exhales, steam curling from his lips. Nori watches on from the floor in fascination, sparing no sympathy. Maybe Bakugo had a point.

Sooba ▻ Maybe that’s just his face.

InsertNameHere ▻ Maybe… ▻ It is a pretty face though. Prettier in person.

Shouto feels all the air deflate from his body. He sinks into the couch, head lolling against his shoulder as he turns to press a grin into the cushions, gripped by a sudden rush of endorphins. It had been you. You’re real. More importantly, you are attainable.

Now did he want to do anything about it?

Sooba ▻ You think so??

The typing dots bounce along the chat room border as you reply.

InsertNameHere ▻ I know so. I was there. Beautiful even when he is staring right through me (￣ロ￣lll)

The memory of you speaking his name echoes like a broken record. He has yet to tire of it. Though he’s lightheaded and hazy, your features are still clear in his mind. The sure fire in your eyes, your sharp tongue and your pouty lips. A slow, warm tension trickles into his gut, swooping in anticipation and breathless longing as he imagines the face you might make if he touched you.

Sooba ▻ That’s presumptuous. He was staring at you. Why wouldn’t he be

InsertNameHere ▻ I. ▻ You’re so unfair you know that ▻ If you were here I would

His breathing picks up ever so slightly.

Sooba ▻ What would you do with me

InsertNameHere ▻ Are we veering into sexting territory right now

Sooba ▻ Unintentionally.

Shouto shifts his hips. The movement pulls his sweatpants tighter around his hips and a familiar tingling rushes below his waist. When was the last time he touched himself? He brings the phone to his forehead for a moment of clarity, peering up at the screen through his eyelashes.

InsertNameHere ▻ Is this the part where we come full circle and you actually send me a dick pic

He tucks his chin, a lazy smile playing on his lips. The gentle throb in his briefs pulses throughout his body and he answers, reaching to squeeze himself through the fabric, just for relief.

Nori sneezes. He falters, reminded of her presence and overcome by the urge to cover up. Proverbial tail between his legs, Shouto retreats to the privacy of his bedroom, shutting the door with a quiet click. Evening filters in through the windows, mauve and rosy. He kneels on the bed and it yields under his weight, frame silent while he crawls to the headboard and reclines back, phone in hand.

▻ Shit, sorry. I was joking you don’t have to do that if you don’t want to

The message goes over his head. He opens the front camera and stares back at his flushed, disheveled face before tilting the device, angling it toward his body.

Frosted fingertips trail up his stomach and it jumps, laying the hem of his shirt across his chest. Down again to the fine dark hair below his belly button, goosebumps rising across skin, blood rushing to the surface. Hooks his thumb suggestively into his waistband, hand splayed across his hip, and takes the photo.

Sooba ▻ [IMG_628] ▻ I want to

Shouto. Shouto. Shouto. Abuzz with salacious apprehension he wonders what would it sound like above him? Under him? Breath knocked from your lungs, whining through the motions. He traces the outline of his clock. Covers his eyes with the crook of his arm and releases a shuddered breath, hips rising into the heel of his hand. A hand too big to be yours. Sweatpants pushed halfway down his thighs he pictured it anyway—you laid on your side, at his side, loose fist stroking him root to weeping tip.

Shouto thumbs at the head, smearing precum over his sensitive frenulum. Panting heavier, he squeezes his cock and wonders, would you tease him? Lick into his mouth and tell him not to be quiet?

The phone in his hand buzzes. Anticipation grips his heart. He almost drops it on his face when he squints up to read the screen.

InsertNameHere ▻ Fuck. You’re so gorgeous ▻ I can’t concentrate

Sooba ▻ You like it?

InsertNameHere ▻ I’ll show you how much ▻ [IMG_447]

Heat races through him. You’re in a loose tank top, touching yourself over pale boyshorts. The dark straps have fallen around your shoulders in an almost demure manner, collar slipping forward to reveal the soft cleavage of your chest. You’ve mirrored his position, albeit a little higher, enough for your mouth to be in frame. Wet and rouge, if he thinks hard enough he can imagine he left them kiss bitten.

Sooba ▻ I want to touch you

He’s desperate to know what you like. The way you want to be touched, how you might yield under his wandering hands. Patterns dance behind his eyelids as he reaches to knead his pecs, pinching the pert nipple with a breathy moan. He smooths over his abdomen, corded muscle tensing beneath the added sensation, arousal coiling hot in his belly.

InsertNameHere ▻ Touch yourself for me instead, yeah? ▻ Gonna think about you too

“Fuck,” he chokes. Shouto loses his phone amongst the sheets. Feet planted flat to the mattress, his knees spread until the waistband protests. “Please. Please. I’m so close,” he whispers to the image in his mind. His pace stutters, feverish as he fucks his fist. Your lips brush soft along the column of his throat to feel him swallow. He turns into the pillow, mouth parted for heaving breath.

“That’s it Shouto. So beautiful for me,” you’ll murmur, so at home in the crook of his body. Amidst the desperation you’ll straddle his thigh, rhythm synchronized, chests rising. Your hand—his hand—slips further, fingers curled to press up behind his balls. He’s on fire. “Cum for me, baby. Let me see you cum”.

Shouto’s head tips back into the plush of his pillow, every muscle clenched. Pleasure rockets through him. His cock twitches in his grasp. He cums with a strung out moan, breaking into short, wet pants as he catches his breath.

Riding the gentle aftershocks, his arm falls heavily to the side and hits his bedsheets with a quiet thud. The smell of old petrichor blows into his room with the draft draws his attention to the darkened window. Streaks of gold sunlight peak between the buildings across the street where it settles under the horizon.

The stickiness between his fingers is difficult to ignore. Drying steadily on his chest. Reality returns to him slowly as he stares at his soiled hand. After cleaning himself up with the wipes in his bedside table, Shouto tugs up his sweatpants and rubs at the pink splotches leading up his throat. With clarity comes a vague haze of shame and he is loudly alone; something vibrates and he is anything but lonely. He lifts his head, rummaging through the sheets to find his phone.

InsertNameHere ▻ Want you to feel good ▻ You there baby? ▻ Sooba? ▻ Hm. That’s not the sexiest of names

Shouto laughed through his nose. Endeared by your awkward jump from flirting to nervously making up for a perceived misstep.

Sooba ▻ sorry can’t multitask ▻ shouldnt make fun of your house husbands name

Exiting his bedroom is uncomfortably close to a wall of shame. He drags his feet; gait unsteady for far nicer reasons than a near career ending injury. Nori has acquired his spot on the couch, retaining warmth in his absence. She observes him, all knowing.

InsertNameHere ▻ No capitalised letters? Punctuation? What have you done with my Sooba lol ▻ How are you feeling?

Sooba ▻ really good. sleepy

He wanders to the kitchen and dithers over his next message, leaning his forearms on the cool countertop. This fleeting, unintended conversation could change everything and that fact is starting to nag at him.

▻ what about you

InsertNameHere ▻ I feel really good. And sleepy <3

The implication is not lost on him. He chews his bottom lip, flustered at just how pleased that makes him.

The next burst of chat bubbles appear in an instant, one after another. Typed hastily as though to outrun your own apprehension.

▻ Can I ask you something?  ▻ Did you mean it when you said you’d come to the event with me? ▻ I have a plus one. I want to see you. But you don’t have to 

Shouto swallows. Tugged between elation and fear. You’ve become all he yearns for and you could be just that, his, yet he panics all the same. Heroism had consistently been his lacquered shield. An excuse for his self isolation that people had to begrudgingly accept. Working himself to the bone afforded the luxury of never having to dwell on it. 

Exhaustion aside he was content with the humdrum life he hid behind. Before you, Shouto rarely wanted for anything. He had his family, and good friends, and a job that felt rewarding; it didn’t seem worth it to lay himself bare and be dissected on the off chance that someone new might love him. 

Because hectic work and risks aside, he’s profoundly aware of the ghosts he has yet to conquer. That somewhere, there is something fundamentally different inside him that you might find disappointing. 

Unthinkingly, Shouto grapples with the courage in him existing on the fringes and replies in much the same way you had. 

Sooba ▻ I meant it. I want to see you too.  ▻ I’d like to go with you  ▻ Don’t worry about a plus one. I’ll meet you there 

InsertNameHere ▻ Wow, okay. That was easier than I thought. I’m so excited  ▻ And super nervous

As it turns out the impending date motivates Shouto like nothing before. Days pass without fault or interruption. The man-shaped dent in his couch rises without the constant weight. He sticks closely to the routine his physiotherapist drew up for him. Walks longer distances and soaks up the sun daily, to Tsutomu’s great delight. 

Too wrapped up in his own coalesced anxiety and elation, he realises he hadn’t found it remotely odd that you hadn’t questioned his ability to get into the auction. 

His train of thought is interrupted by a firm hand coming down on his shoulder. “Man of the hour!” A familiar sharp toothed grin blocks his vision. Shouto clenches under the sudden weight to keep himself upright as Kirishima gives him a shake, “We missed you around here. You’re looking good!”

The charity event is in full swing. An anticipatory lull permeates the atmosphere as the chosen guests, heroes and civilians alike, wait for the auction to finally begin. Shouto arrived fashionably late, as Mina called it, after spending nearly three hours on a group call with her, Yaoyorozu, and his sister. 

The applause upon his entry had not been expected. His palms are still clammy. 

Compared to Shouto's charcoal three piece suit, tailored to precision, Kirishima dons a charmingly loud burgundy blazer over a dark turtleneck, pulled together by a simple chain. The material is tight across his broad shoulders. “Thank you, Kirishima,” Shouto smiles. He looks him over, “You look good too”. 

That signature grin grows weary. “You really think so?” Kirishima lowers his voice into a hush, tugging at the loose hair framing his face. “I wasn’t so sure about tying my hair back. What if nobody bids for me? I’m dying inside just thinking about it”. 

Shouto turns away from the sea of vibrant clothing and chatter to pat his friend on the arm and level him with a serious look. “A lot of people are going to spend money on you tonight, Kirishima. But in the impossible event that they don’t I’ll bid on you myself,” he tells him. “We can go to Mythoscape and try that new rollercoaster”. 

“Bro…” Kirishima’s eyes are wide and glassy. While Shouto expects the firm hug, he is mildly surprised by the long, dramatic kiss to his cheek. His breath smells faintly of white wine. “You’re the best,” he continues as he sets Shouto back on his feet. “But is it really okay for you to do that?”

A flash goes off. Shouto frowns. He scans the crowd and rubs away the wet mark left behind. Yaoyorozu catches his attention with a delicate wave from her place beside Kendo and Uraraka. “Why wouldn’t it be?” he asks, smiling back, yet distracted. You’re still nowhere to be found. 

“Well,” Kirishima draws breath through his teeth. “Bakugo kinda told me about your crush on his PA,” whatever he sees pass over Shouto’s expression has him sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and scrambling to explain. “Nothing bad, man! You know he actually seemed pretty approving of it, in his own way”. 

The evermoving mass of bodies sharpens around a few other familiar faces. Midoriya is excitedly gesticulating as he rambles to a visibly overwhelmed HSPC shareholder. Bakugo watches the interaction with no intention of concealing his amusement. 

“I’m not sure about that,” Shouto rasps, narrowing his eyes at the man in question, like the pressure behind it might be enough to elicit his attention. Bakugo of all the people here would know where you are. The phone snug in his inside blazer pocket remains silent. A pout works its way onto his lips before he can stop it. “He said I’m bad at flirting”. 

Kirishima stifles a laugh and clears his throat when Shouto directs the petulant glare to him. “You are a little bad at it. But only when you’re actually trying! And even then that’s part of what makes it charming, y’know?”

“No, I don’t know”. 

“You’re the type to flirt without realising you’re doing it—or atleast people think you are, because you’re handsome and attentive and whatnot. But when you try it’s kinda obvious and bro, please stop looking at me like that,” Kirishima explains clumsily, tone pitching higher the longer he talks. 

Shouto’s lips thin as he tries to suppress a smirk. He rights himself as Kirishima nudges his side, catching a smile of his own, “What I meant is you have a chance. And Bakubro thinks so too. He wants you to be happy”. 

The sentiment warms him from the inside out. But it also makes apparent something trepid and cold in his gut. Regardless of his friends unfettered support there remains the real possibility that he will be rejected. That you will be disappointed or scared away by his status. That you could do as you please with the intimate parts of his life ‘Sooba’ gave you.

Scarier is the hope that you won’t.

“I’m going to get a drink,” Shouto announces, noticing Endeavor prowling around in his peripheral vision. Kirishima’s brow furrows, mouth parted in confusion, no doubt seeking to reassure him. “I’m okay, Kirishima. I just need something to do with my hands”. 

“Alright,” the taller man murmurs. Shouto finds himself at the end of a gentle smile once more. “Make sure to say ‘hi’ to Denks if you see him. He misses you too”.

“I will,” Shouto nods, ducking away from the inexpressible tenderness that has clung to him since stepping into the hall. People part to allow him through. His left leg has already begun to feel weak, not enough to worry but enough to notice, and he hopes he can later blame his gait on the alcohol. 

He reaches the bar and wrinkles his nose at the thick amalgamation of perfume, body odour and over-applied cologne. The bartender slides up to him. “Umeshu, please,” he says. “On the rocks”. 

Another body settles beside him. He shifts to accommodate them but doesn’t look; too distracted as he inhales deeply through his nose and exhales long out his mouth to allay his beating heart. Pulling his phone out from his inside pocket, the screen lights up and he finds it void of messages. 

After the… sexting, things had been fine. Better in a lot of ways. You both felt emboldened to truly act on your feelings. Sharing more pictures, secrets—though never your names—and laughter.  It is disconcerting that you would now go silent. 

The bartender sets his drink down and Shouto quietly gives his thanks, bringing it to his face, briefly caught in the soft glimmer, cubed ice submerged in liquid gold, tasting the sweet aroma at the back of his throat. He tips it back and drinks. 

As the glass hits the surface once more, the person next to him softly asks, “Are you waiting on anyone?” 

And his mouth goes dry. 

You’re bracing on crossed arms, watching him closely. Speckled in the warm low light reflected on the bar, you are more beautiful than he remembers, and just as nervous. There’s an air of uncertainty about you that shifts as your eyes meet, faint but palpable, encouraged by what he can imagine is the wonder on his own face. 

Shouto wets his lips. The plum taste lingers on his tongue. “…I might be,” he murmurs. You brighten at his reciprocation, a more charged kind of nervous—the kind that swoops low in your belly right before you take a leap. 

“If I’m wrong don’t laugh and don’t tell Dynamite,” you turn to face him and smooth your hands over your hips. This allows him a better look at your attire. Silken fabrics that form gentle lines around the waist, loose but elegantly so, not in a way that the clothes wear you. 

Your eyes dipped low, averted to avoid his stare. He cannot seem to direct it anywhere else. The auction has fallen away in its entirety. As far as Shouto is concerned there’s only you. 

“It’s me. And you’re…Sooba?” 

The tremble in your voice shrikes through him and it occurs to Shouto that you have always been the brave one.

He leans into your space, enjoying the way you quickly draw breath at his proximity, forced to meet his gaze. Rather than something remotely suave or cool, he dumbly asks, “You knew?”

Part of him wants to tuck his shoulders to his ears as you begin to laugh. They’re warm, undoubtedly red. Amusement is not at all what he prepared for. He thought this might all end up in his scrapbook memory, to be taken out and pined over now and then. 

“Shouto-san with all due respect, you came to my workplace with your very recognisable crutches and stared at me like a deer in headlights”. 

“Shouto,” he says. 

Your laughter simmers, “Hm?”

“Just call me Shouto,” he tells you, equal parts relieved and embarrassed. 

“Shouto,” you smile at him with a fondness that derails his thoughts. He has the vague urge to whine when it wanes. “I’m—I really am sorry I didn’t tell you. I swear I didn’t know until after you visited the agency. It all made sense after I looked up your socials and saw some old pictures of Nori”. 

“It’s alright. I knew and didn’t say anything either,” Shouto inclines his head, abashed. Then with a sudden sharp sort of clarity, he continues, “So then you knew, when you asked for a dick—?”

Words evade him under the warm press of your hand as you quickly cover his mouth. You glance around the room, closer than before, and you don’t seem to realise. Cautious, he touches your waist; he puckers his lips to kiss your palm; he feels your stomach jump under the silky fabrics. 

Your eyes darken, swallowed by pupil. “You’re a menace,” you simper, and reluctantly pull away. “Maybe we should talk about this somewhere with less…cameras”. 

Umeshu abandoned, Shouto wraps an arm around your lower back and allows you to direct him through the crowd. You weave through the moving bodies like thread through a needle, at one point reaching behind to take his wrist, becoming his tether.

Bakugo meets his gaze from across the room. His eyes flit to you, widening in surprise. Shouto flashes a boyish grin before disappearing through the side door. 

The door you choose next opens to a private bathroom. Shouto surges forward, taking you by the hips and crowding you against the bathroom counter, overcome by the need to feel everything that you are pressing into everything that is him.

He kicks the door behind him and settles in the clutch of your thighs as you scramble to balance on the marble edge. Your hands slide over his shoulders, splaying over each cheek. You’re both breathing heavily despite having done nothing at all.

“I said talk,” you remind him with a tremulous smile. Shouto knows you’re being playful. He apologises anyway; rests his head in the crook of your neck, letting the moment simmer, and you comb through his hair with your fingers. A shiver rolls down his spine. 

“Did you know it was me? Before you came to the agency, I mean”. 

He reclines from his crook to look at you. Eye level, silhouetted by the cheap bathroom luminescence. “When I saw you in there—and put it together I was so scared,” you continued. 

“Scared?” he echoed with a frown, knuckles brushing your cheek. 

“Not like that. I was scared of what you might think,” you turn into his caress and his pinched expression falls away. He can’t stop touching you and he can’t bring himself to be sorry about it. “I mean, I looked terrible that day, and you appeared out of nowhere and I wasn’t mad it was you. I was just…”

You swallow thickly, emotion swelling in your eyes. They’re crinkled at the corners. “You’re so big and bright. I didn’t want you to be disappointed”.

You were unaware of it—the profound cord you struck within him. How even in anonymity, your incorporeal fingers always seemed to find it. Even now, as you echo his own fears. 

“Momo first mentioned you might work for Bakugo. I didn’t know before I saw you that day. I still wasn’t certain until tonight”. You peer at him through your lashes then, listening intently. He brings your foreheads together and tells you, “There is no way you could’ve disappointed me”. 

“Oh? I could’ve been a villain”.

“My oldest brother was a villain,” he monotoned, wandering hands squeezing intermittently at your waist as though to make sure you’re still there. “My capacity for love and forgiveness knows no bounds”. 

You snort. The sound is abrupt and the force knocks your skulls together. “Oh—ow,” he grins, insides melting. Together you dissolve into a warm fit of laughter. 

“Hey, Shouto?” 

He hums in acknowledgment, eyes fluttering as your thumb swipes over the red mark below his hairline. “I like you,” you murmur. “I like you so much it’s stupid”.  

Plunged into an ice cold realisation, Shouto freezes to process your words. “You—like me?” 

“Yeah?” you said it like he was dense, like it was clear all along. “I can’t help it when you’re so…yourself”

And isn’t that all he’s ever wanted? To be loved without pretense, without a winner. To be special to someone for no special reason. 

“Oh,” he breathes. “Me too. I like you. I want—” his fingers flex at your hips, grounding. He blinks. “I don’t know your name yet”. 

Affection colours your features. Shouto likes you best like this—sure of yourself, of his feelings for you. You recite your name. He repeats it endlessly in his mind and rolls it around his teeth. He calls to you even when you’re right in front of him. 

“Can I kiss you now?” 

“You were waiting?” you laugh, tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s such a novel thing but it makes something monumental swell in his chest. “Kiss me. I want you to”. 

Given permission, Shouto traces the curve of your jaw with a bold shyness, from the sensitive skin below your ear to your chin. His finger hooks beneath. You’re lovely. He thinks he could spend an hour describing your demure half smile, how your lips yield under the light pressure of his thumb; your tongue darting out reflexively. 

He shakes at the desire that fills him. He’s not used to it—this wanting. It feels like a thousand insatiable butterflies in his chest. Dipping into your magnetism, his heart beat faster and faster with the simple brush of your lips. He kissed you, innocent and honest, and then he kissed you again, licking the seam of your mouth, arms coiling around your middle as you cling to him. 

You tip forward. Your thighs clench at his waist and drag him impossibly close. It brings you chest to chest. He tries to hold you steadfast as your hand wraps around his nape, softly scratching his scalp; he feels you smile against his lips when he shudders. 

You break for air. Arousal shoots through him at your half moan, the sound tapering into a happy hum the instant his lips trail down your neck, tasting your pulse before making his way down to your exposed collar. He peppers kiss after kiss on every swathe of skin he can reach, sinking teeth into every little reaction you give him. 

Big hands at your lower back arch your body into his. You yield, tension sapped from your limbs, grappling his shoulders to keep yourself from falling while you grind down on his lap. Shouto groans, grip slipping lower to cup your ass. 

“We’re getting carried away,” you gasp between kisses. That alone was obvious. His cock strains uselessly in his suit pants. But the light glints tantalisingly along your mouth, swollen and wet with saliva. Shouto kisses you again so you won’t have to tell him to attend to his responsibilities. 

A warm breath scores his cheek as you huff through your nose, nipping firmly at his lower lip. “I mean it. I am technically still at work,” you try again, voice lacking strength. “Dynamite will knock on every door in this building—don’t wrinkle your nose, you know I’m right”.

“Alright. I know,” he rasps, barely an exhale. It takes all his willpower to pull away. He steadies you on your feet, smoothing out the creases in your formal attire while you are quite pleased to simply watch on as he adjusts himself in his pants. “I’m glad my suffering is funny to you”. 

“Don’t be dramatic,” you murmur, pecking the corner of his mouth. “I'll hide with you in the corner like I promised I would. We can make up for lost time after the auction. You know. The one for charity”. 

Shouto hums and reaches for the door, knowing you’ve won. “Oh. I told Kirishima I’d bid for his date night,” he recalls as he turns the handle. “Would that bother you?” 

“Of course not baby,” you reply and take one last look at your reflection, less disheveled than before. The endearment ‘baby’ almost has him walking into the doorframe.

You straighten up. Shouto thinks he must look incredibly dumbstruck, if your concerned expression is any indication. “You okay?” you ask, proffering your hand. “You didn’t bring your crutches tonight, did you?”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine,” he intertwines your fingers, dizzy as you squeeze around him. 

“It’s just a tremor”. 

[blissfullyecho]

how to study + become a better college student

*i’m in nursing school for reference*

before classes/school:

#1. eat a good, hearty breakfast. i cannot concentrate when i’m hungry because i think about lunch or having a snack. i like to carb up for breakfast (carbs give you energy) and have things like pancakes, french toast, bagels, etc., as well as protein (because that keeps you full) like eggs, turkey bacon, yogurt, etc. i like to take a green powder or a multivitamin during this time to give my body what it needs so that i can function for the rest of the day too.

#2. i always bring water with me to class so that i can concentrate and not think about how thirsty i am. it’s super important to stay hydrated so come prepared.

#3. i know the lesson plan and what’s going to be talked about each day, and if your classes are run like that too, read the chapter or look over whatever it is you’re going to look over today in class to give you a general idea of what you’re going to learn today. this will help you feel like you’re one step ahead (which you are).

#4. wake up early enough to be relaxed in the morning. every time i didn’t perform my best in school was when i woke up and immediately rushed to get ready for class and not took the time to allow myself to ‘wake up’. your mornings should be chill, not a race against the clock.

during classes/school:

#1. actually jot down notes— do not rely on just using your phone to take pictures of the board/powerpoint. when you write your notes down, you get a chance to get that information stuck in your head. what i do if my instructor goes too fast on the powerpoints is: i take a picture of the powerpoint, then i write down what she/he says, then when i get home i rewrite what i took a picture of and the notes that i took in class (i’ll talk about this later).

#2. ask questions— who cares if you’re shy or whatever. asking questions will allow you to be more engaged and it shows your professors/instructors/teachers that you actually care (and they might even bump some grades up for you if you show you’ve taken initiative and tried). every question you ask, write your question down and their response in your notes. i’m telling you, this has helped so much and it gives you such a good look.

#3. use your lunch break for what it is— a break. 30 minutes isn’t a lot of time for an 8 hour day so actually rest and enjoy your lunch during this time. you need a chance to reset.

#4. if you can, always ask to review your tests with your professors/instructors. see what you got wrong and talk it through with them. in nursing school, we generally aren’t able to see what we got wrong on our exams and tests without our professor being there to review them with us. please do this.

#5. use a 1 subject notebook for each class and have pens/pencils that you only use for class. your notes in class should be legible but not super pretty. make your notes pretty at home, not in class.

#6. when taking a test, go over the questions and answers before turning in. there have been so many times i read a question too quickly and changed my answer and i ended up being correct when i looked it over again. don’t make those dumb mistakes.

#7. befriend the other students who do really well in the class. seriously, this will save you.

after classes/school:

#1. when you get home from school, unwind for an hour. take a shower, go to the gym, do whatever you want to do to allow yourself to relax and unwind. you need to take another break after school to regroup and to find a little bit of balance.

#2. review the notes you took in class that day and the pictures you took of the board, and rewrite your notes in a different notebook. so i suggest 2 notebooks for each class— one for your sloppy in-class notes and another for your pretty and organized notes. rewriting your notes will allow your brain to help retain that information.

#3. spend some time each day after rewriting your notes to watch a few videos on youtube about that topic. for nursing school, i like to look at 1-3 videos about what we’re learning to get a wider understanding.

#4. on the weekends, i like to spend 1-2, sometimes 3 hours each day reviewing everything i learned that week. i will watch more videos, i will read over my notes, and i will also create flashcards with my own practice questions in regards to the notes i take and quiz myself with those cards.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Comparing you to their Ex girlfriend

Kiyoomi Sakusa x Fem! reader; Atsumu Miya x Fem! Reader

Warnings: toxic behavior, swearing, Sakusa and Atsumu being big ole jerks, mention of ex’s, angst to comfort

AN: because I enjoy pain : D

Sakusa

Dating life had been pretty dull before you met MSBY’s famed spiker, Kiyoomi Sakusa. It had taken awhile to get to know him. He was a guarded and rather brass individual, not talking much to anyone outside his small circle. However after weeks of trying and being rejected, you finally were able to break thought his defensive walls. He had finally given you a chance.

Now, almost a year later, you and Kiyoomi had a well established routine. It had taken a while to figure out each other quirks, but soon you were able to function as one unit, living your lives both independently and cohesively.

However, one thing you struggled continuously to get use to was Kiyoomi’s high standards of cleanliness. No matter how hard you tried, you never were able to keep up. You knew it was a big reason why Kiyoomi and you hadn’t taken the next step in your relationship, why you hadn’t yet moved in together. It was often a topic of discussion and many times arguments. Your disagreement’s were never fully settled as you both always managed to run out of steam, knowing this was an issue that wouldn’t be quickly resolved.

You tried you hardest, watching his routine and replicating it as best as you could but it was still never enough for him. Despite all this, you loved and adored Kiyoomi and wanted nothing more than the spend the rest of your life with him.

One night, you were sitting on his couch while you watched a movie. He had been at practice all day and you had just gotten off of work. You spent most of you time at his place, knowing perfectly well that he preferred it. While it was inconvenient at times, you kept clothes and the essentials at his place to make mornings and weekends a little easier.

“They are redoing carpeting in the hallway this week,” Kiyoomi spoke as you looked at him. You knew he had been hoping management would upgrade for a while now so you were thrilled.

“I’m glad! I know you’ve wanted this for a while. You always complain about the stains and stuff so it’s good that they are finally taking notice,” you said as he hummed in agreement.

“Yeah but I’ll have to stay in a hotel for a few days because I won’t be able to have access to my apartment so that kind of sucks.”

You didn’t see this as an inconvenience but rather as an opportunity. You had been waiting to show Kiyoomi how you’ve improved your cleaning skills and you were certain that they were beyond up to his standards.

“You know, you could just stay with me?” You spoke as Kiyoomi looked at you, smiling and then chuckling. Confused, your brows furrowed as you waited for him to speak.

“No offense sweetie but I’ve seen your cleaning skills and I think I’ll take my chances at a hotel,” he laughed. You sat up, looking at him as he stared.

“Omi I’ve been working my butt off to keep my place clean. I do everything you asked and I’ve been keeping in mind the things you taught me,” you said as Kiyoomis face fell. He could tell you were serious.

“YN it’s ok. Cleaning isn’t everyone’s strong suit and it’s obviously not yours,” he replied as you stood up, offended by his words.

“I’m trying my hardest Kiyoomi! I come home, exhausted everyday and I clean. Then, instead of relaxing, I drive over here and spend my nights with you because I know you are more comfortable in your own environment!” You shout as Kiyoomi rolls his eyes m, standing up and walking past you.

“YN you are making a huge deal of this again, we’ve been over this!” He spoke going into the kitchen and plgrabbing his cleaning supplies. You knew he cleaned when he was stress, it wasn’t like his normal routine.

“Omi I’m not trying to-”

“YN just shut up ok?! Just shut up! It’s always something with you! This is always a fight and I’m sick of it! If you were half as good as Becca was at cleaning we’d already be living together!” He growled as you froze, you mouth falling slack as you body went cold. How could he? How could he bring her up? Of everything he could have said, how could he have stooped so low.

You straightened you back, tears filling your eyes as you heart began to crumble, “I’ll never be good enough for you will I Kiyoomi?” Turning on your heels, you grabbed your purse and shoes, walking out the front door.

Leaning on the counter, his anger began to grow, not at you but at himself. He couldn’t believe she had come to his mind, someone he hadn’t thought about in years. Becca had been his high school sweetheart, and he thought she was it. Unfortunately, schedules clashed and his life as a pro-volleyball superstar skyrocketed. He found less and less time for her and she had grown sick of it. Before he knew it, he had come home to an empty apartment, he spare key on the counter with a note that simply rid, “I fell out of love with you.” That was the last Tim he had seen or heard from her again. He figured she’d moved on, found someone who was worthy of her time.

The breakup had broken him in more ways than he carried to admit. He became more reclusive, pulling away from friends and family. He got in the habit of being alone, functioning without someone at his side. That all changed when he met you. You were gorgeous, funny and so outgoing. He immediately found himself attracted to you but he was scared, scare of his heart being broken again, scared he would lose something so precious.

You continued to peruse him, despite his desperate attempts to keep you away. He wanted to be with you, wanted to move on but his fear of being left alone was paralyzing. Finally, he relented and went on a date with you. Soon one turned into two and then three and then six. Your relationship happened effortlessly and he enjoyed every minute of it. He knew he loved you, knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you but he was afraid to make that next step so he kept you at bay with his ridiculous cleaning demands. He knew they were outrageous and over the top but they protected him, they protected his heart.

He stood there, once again in silence as his breathe began to hitch. He had done it again, he had driven the person he lived away. His arms fell to his side as he reached for his phone. He pulled up your contact information and hit the dial button.

The phone rang and rang as you ignored it. You knew Kiyoomi was calling but you couldn’t bare speaking to him, you curled up in your freshly made bed as your tears overwhelmed you. The pain of her name imprinted on your brain as you sobbed.

Kiyoomi had told you about Becca, he had told you why she had left. You knew he was guarded and you were determined to do whatever you could to fix it. You hated how broken he was, how he felt he couldn’t trust anyone. It was a big reason as to why you worked your hardest to live up to his standards, thinking maybe, just maybe, he would let his guard down.

“You’re such an idiot Yn,” you cried as you covered your head up and sobbed deeply.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Atsumu answered as Kiyoomi stood in his kitchen, taking his hand down his face. He had messed up and in a bad way.

“I really fucked update with Yn Sumu. She left and I don’t think she’s coming back,” he murmured into the phone.

“What happened? Did she finally have enough of your bullshit demands?” Atsumu laughed as Kiyoomi sighed.

“We got into a fight because she wanted to me stay with her while my apartment was getting some work done. I thought she was joking but she wasn’t and I kind of threw Becca in her face.”

“You did what??? You asshole!” Atsumu shouted as Kiyoomi pulled the phone away from his ear, “I mean come on dude, YN has been dealing with your bullshit for almost a year now! She does everything you ask of her and all she wants is for you to see that. I think she’s more than shown you she can handle your ridiculous standards dude. Plus she’s probably the most patient woman I’ve ever seen. I mean, literally dealing with you is just as bad as emo Bokuto!”

Kiyoomi didn’t answer because he knew what Atsumu was saying was true. He knew his standards were high and that in a lot of ways, they were just a guard.

“You know she loves you right? She’s not going anywhere Omi. She chased you down for months and she’s stood by you for almost a year, she’s not leaving dude,” Atsumu spoke softly as a tear rolled down kiyoomi’s cheek.

“I think I need to talk to her,” he responded as he heard Atsumu mutter an “mmhmm” before hanging up. He grabbed his keys, locking up before making his way to your apartment.

You groaned as the knocking on your door became obsessive. You had absolutely no intention on answering the door in the state you were in but the person had continued to knock for well over 20 minutes.

With mascara running down your cheeks and you hair in disarray, you made your way to the front door, checking the peephole before opening it.

You saw Kiyooni on the other side, looking visibly upset. Unlocking the door, you swung it open as the smell of cleaning products wafted, hitting his nose smack in the face.

“What do you want?” You growled as Kiyoomi stood there taking you in. You looked like you had been crying, no doubt because of him and his actions. Your face was flush and your hair a complete disaster. Still, you looked absolutely breathtaking to him.

“Can-can I come in?” He questioned, rubbing the back of his head as you turned and headed towards the living room.

“Take your shoes off at least,” you said as Kiyoomi looked around. Your apartment was immaculately kept, everything clean and in its place. Dare he say, it may have even been cleaner than his own place.

Having slipped his shoes off, he headed to the couch. You had sat in the arm chair, indicating you didn’t want to be close to him. He couldn’t really blame you for that.

“I can to apologize Yn. I’m really sorry for everything I said, for how hard I’ve been on you. Honestly, I don’t have an excuse at this point. I’ve been a complete asshole to you. I’ve set my standards and walls so high that I was sure you’d never reach them and every time you did, it kind of freaked me out. I was scared of losing you like I lost her. I was scared of how much I loved you and how much I came to need you in my life. I know you don’t have to forgive me and I don’t expect you too but I just wanted you to know how sorry I am and how much I really do love you.”

Tears fell as you listened to him speak. You knew he was guarded but this was a whole new level. Tears streamed down your cheeks as your eyes met his, “I love you Kiyoomi and all I’ve ever tried to do was show you that. I know how important volleyball is to you and what happened with your ex but I’m not her. I’m not going to to fall out of love with you because your passionate about volleyball.”

Kiyoomi watched you as tears fell, he knew you were being sincere and that you cared for him. He stood up, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you, “YN, I love you and I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I said those things and pushed you away. I’m sorry I ever gave you a chance or agreed to come stay with you. I shouldn’t have compared you to her. There is nothing to compare Yn, I love you so so much more than I ever loved her and I hope you can find it in your heart o forgive me.”

You smiled softly as you hand went to rest on his cheek, whiling a stray tear as it flowed down, “I forgive you Kiyoomi and I love you so much.”

Atsumu

Your relationship with Atsumu was an interesting one. When you first met him, you thought he was rather arrogant and annoying, not usually someone you’d date. However the more you got to know him, the more he grew on you, leading to your now 6 month long relationship. Sure it had its ups and downs but you were so in love with the un-toned blonde setter.

Atsumu and you both had extreme personalities, which was a double edged sword in your relationship. You both were extremely passionate and loving towards each other but when you fought, oh boy was it a show.

You didn’t fight a lot, usually only when things got serious or you got annoyed with his normal stupidity. You both had separate lives, somehow managing to cohesively combine them to fit each other.

Both being workaholics, you struggled sometimes to find time for each other. Atsumu was at the gym for long hours and you were at your office for equally as long but you always made weekly dates and kept your relationship fresh.

This week, it was your turn to plan your weekly date. Unfortunately for you, you’d been not only extremely run down at work but your period had just started and you weren’t feeling the best. You decided that it would be ok to keep it low key for one week since you usually always went all out. You’d order take out and watch a movie, it was simple but you knew the point of date was to spend time with your man.

When Sumu came home, he noticed you in your pajama’s chilling on the couch as you smiled at him. He looked at you, confused as to why you weren’t ready to go out. “Uh babe, we have date night tonight remember?” He said, removing his shoes and setting his bag down. He had been busy at the gym, exhausted from all the extra work he had been putting in. He was looking forward to going out, enjoying the town and spending time with his girl.

“I thought we could switch things up once! I was going to order take out and figured we could rent a movie,” you smiled as his face fell. You looked at him as he stared at you, wondering why his expression had all of a sudden turned sour

“Babe we always go out. I was looking forward to not being at home,” he complained as you stood up, walking over to him. You could tell he was growing agitated but maybe if you explained then he’d be ok.

“Sumu, I’m dead tired and my period came today-”

“Ok so take a midol or something! We can still go out Yn. You aren’t the only one on this relationship you know!?” he shouted as you reeled. What the actual fuck?

“Sumu what the hell?!? I planned a nice night in because I don’t feel well and you tell me to just take some pills and get over it?”

“It honestly sounds like you were just being lazy Yn. It’s not like it takes that much effort to make reservations or put a little makeup on. I mean you do it everyday for your coworkers so you should be able to do it for your boyfriend!” He shouted as you began growing angry.

“Well I’m fucking sorry for having a uterus Sumu! Heaven forbid I ever fucking inconvenience you with my bleeding and exhaustion but oh wait, I forgot, I’m not perfect like you!” You screamed back as he glared.

“You know, Layla never bothered me with shit like this Yn, she knew exactly what I wanted and she never argued with me!” He spat as you stared at him, mouth agape.

How fucking dare he bring her up? Layla, his perfect ex girlfriend who was a model and absolutely drop dead gorgeous. He knew bringing up her was a low blow and he didn’t even care.

“Well then, why don’t you go back to Layla then if I’m such an inconvenience,” you murmured, standing your ground.

“Maybe I will!” He shouted, grabbing his gym bag, slipping his shoes on and walking out the front door.

It took a moment, just a minute to sink in before your whole world came crashing down. Your hands flew to your mouth as you began to shake, tears threatening to spill as you quickly turned and headed to the bedroom.

You cried as you grabbed your overnight bag and began throwing clothes in it. You couldn’t believe he had said that. How could he possibly stoop so low. Of all the people, why did it have to be her? Your chest stung as you leave with the bare minimum, throwing your purse over your shoulder and grabbing your keys as you frantically made your way to the front door.

You had to get out of here, you couldn’t stay here. Not in this place, not surrounded by pictures of the two of you and definitely not as the afterburn of her name hit you. The thought of him seeking her out to comfort him chipped away at your heart, you couldn’t stomach the thought of Atsumu being with her again.

You turned, looking around one last time before leaving. The tears fell, gathering on your clothes and shoes. The heartbreak you were feeling immeasurable.

Groaning, Atsumu sat in his car thinking about the fight over and over again. He was pissed, fuming actually but surprising, it wasn’t at you. He only had himself to be angry at. He knew he overreacted, knew you didn’t deserve the shouting match he started.

He sighed, getting out of his car and knocking on his brothers door. Osamu answered, giving his twin a weird look.

“I thought tonight was date night?”

“YN and I had a fight,” he spoke as Osamu rolled his eyes.

“Of course you did,” he responded moving out of the way, “what happened in paradise now?”

“Well it was suppose to be date night and instead of planning a date, she decided it would be ok for us to just have takeout and watch a movie,” Atsumu reiterated as Samu stared at him.

“Ok and what’s wrong with that?”

“I wanted to go out but she said she wasn’t feeling good, her period or something. So I suggested she take midol-”

“Bro you didn’t?” Samu spoke, eyes widening as Atsumu stared at him.

“I mean, I guess it was kind of rude but dude I want to go out, I want to do stuff!”

“Ok but maybe Yn wasn’t feeling good. Date nights aren’t about going out, it’s about spending time together,” Samu replied.

“Yeah I guess so,” Atsumu said, thinking back to the conversation, “fuck I said something else too. Something kind of mean.”

Osamu looked at him as Atsumu raked his hands through his hair, “what did you say?”

“Fuck- I fuck! I compared her to Layla,” Sumu said, collapsing on his brothers couch.

“You compared Yn, sweet Yn, to that cunt? Dude she was such a fucking bitch and she cheated on you! What the fuck is wrong with you?” Osamu shouted as Atsumu sat down, hands going straight to his hair.

“I know I know man! Fuck I was just so upset about not going out and I- I guess I overreacted.”

“You think? God Sumu you are so stupid! YN is literally the best thing that ever happened to you! Do you realize how fucking annoying you are to deal with? How much YN puts up with? Do you remember when you found out Layla was cheating? God you were the literal worst! Sakusa, heck even Meian, couldn’t handle you!” Atsumu’s hands went down to his knees as he contemplated everything he had been through.

Atsumu had been single for almost a year when he had first laid eyes on you. After Layla had cheated, he had stuck to mostly one night stands. While they weren’t in short supply, he missed the connection of having someone to care for and love.

The first time he saw you was at a bar, dressed in a skin tight outfit he couldn’t remove from his mind. His plans for you started out like all his other plans but immediately changed when you flatly turned him down. He’ll never forget the look you gave him and the giggle followed by the words, “not in your lifetime big guy.” Those words, the look you gave him were definitely what first attracted him to you and after chasing you for months, he finally wore you down enough for a date.

He was utterly broken after his ex had left, crushed by the weight of feeling not good enough. He didn’t want that to ever happen again which is why he kept all potential flings at a distance m, never bringing them to his apartment and never bothering to learn their names, but when you came into his life, that all changed. He learned that he could love again and that not all women were like Layla.

Atsumu stood up, walking to Osamu’s door and exiting. He knew exactly what he needed to do. He needed to grovel at your feet, beg for forgiveness and pray that you’d find it in your amazing heart to forgive him.

Arriving at your shared apartment, he ran upstairs grabbing the door handle and pushing it, only it was locked. His eyes widened as he again pushed on the knob. Why was the door locked? Did you not expect him to come home tonight? The words hit him like a ton of bricks.

“Well then maybe you should go back to Layla!”

“Maybe I will!”

“Shit shit!” He whispered as he quickly grabbed his keys and unlocked the door, pushing in as fast as he could. The apartment was dark and quiet, something he wasn’t use to.

“YN!! YN!! Baby where are you?!”

He searched the entire apartment, frantically looking for any sign of you. He stopped, his breathe hitching as his mind wandered to the worst.

“No no! Please tell me she didn’t!?” He yelled, running to the closet in your bedroom and throwing it open. The blood drained from his face and his eyes began to water as he slowly backed up. Your suitcase was gone, some of your clothes also.

Scrambling quickly, he ran to his phone on the counter and quickly found your number. “Come on baby, pick up!” He whispered.

“Hello?” You answered, somber in tone and sounding like you had been crying.

“Baby? Oh thank god! Where are you? I came home and you were gone, I was so worried!” He sighed, feeling a little relieved that you actually answered his call.

“Why don’t you go back to Layla? I’m sure she can console you!” You spat as Atsumu whinced. Ok, he deserved that, he definitely deserved that.

“Baby, listen I just want to talk ok? I know I fucked up and I’m so sorry Yn. I know I overreacted and I know my words don’t makeup for what I said but I love you Yn. You are the one I want, the one who helped me to trust again. Please Yn, baby come home,” Atsumu sobbed as you sighed.

“I’m sorry Sumu but I’m not going to come home tonight or for a while. What you said was so hurtful and low. You didn’t think of anyone but yourself Sumu. I told you I wasn’t feeling well, that I was exhausted and you told me to take some medicine and suck it up! Then on top of that, you threw her fucking name in my face! You don’t know how fucking much that shattered me Sumu,” you cried, sucking in a breath as Atsumu listened. He knew he fucked up but this was by far the worst he’d ever messed up.

“Princess please, I know- I know I’m a fucking asshole and I should have never ever brought her up, I was mad and I let me anger get the better of me. Just please, please can we talk about this?” He pleaded into the phone, tears running down his cheeks.

“I’ll talk to you later Sumu,” you sighed, hanging up as Atsumu collapsed to his knees, his body shaking as he tried to process everything. You were gone, really gone.

The next morning, your phone rang as you sighed, bracing for another phone call from Atsumu. You picked up the phone, looking at the caller id as your brows furrowed.

“Hello?” You said as Osamu’s voice filled the receiver.

“Hey Yn, uh I’m really sorry to bother you but Sakusa just called me, Atsumu didn’t show up for practice today. I can’t leave the restaurant right now or I’d go check on him but I was wondering if you were with him?”

You breathe stopped, your mind functioning of auto pilot as you raced from your hotel room to your car.

“YN is everything ok?” Osamu said sounding more panicked.

“I- I left Samu! I left him alone! Oh god, Samu I was so hurt by what he said! I got a hotel room and he called me last night. He told me how sorry he was and I told him I needed time! Oh my god what if something happened to him!”

You were sobbing as your tires squealed, your foot hitting the floor as you peeled out of the hotel parking lot. The tears rolled down your face as you heart sped up, your brain automatically going to the worst possible scenario.

“YN calm down ok? I’m sure he’s fine! Please don’t do anything irrational right now,” Sumu spoke, trying to calm you.

You couldn’t answer as you speed to your apartment, parking and throwing open the car door. You left Osamu shouting into your phone as you as you quickly raced to the door.

Ramming into your front door, you threw it open and we’re greeted with Atsumu standing there, staring at you.

“YN what the hell? Are you ok?” he said as you through your body into his, bracing as you sobbed into his chest.

“Osamu called me and said that you didn’t show up to practice! I thought about our conversation last night and oh god Sumu!” You cried into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close and rubbing your back.

“Baby, hey it’s ok. I’m ok? I texted Meian and told him I needed a day off. I just couldn’t get you off my mind and the thought of even trying to push you out just hurt,” he said, hugging you tight as his eyes began to well with tears.

“Baby I’m so so fucking sorry! I can’t believe I was so selfish. I know I don’t deserve you but YN, I love you more than anything. You are it for me, the only thing I ever want.”

You pulled back, eyes softening as you quickly placed a kiss on Atsumu’s lips, “Sumu what you said was mean and hurtful and you are the biggest jerk ever but I love you so much and the thought of losing you well, it crushed me more than anything.”

“I promise Yn, I’ll be better for you,” he smiled, leaning down and taking your lips once again.

[sapphire-writes]

Bandaids & Butterflies (modern hospital AU)

Do No Harm part 2 || masterlist || next part

pairing: doctor!Aemond Targaryen x doctor!Reader

summary: Your week continues at Citedal General. You try to figure out what ails Cece Lannister while tensions rise between you and Aemond.

word count: 4.1k

disclaimer: yall, I am not a doctor, I am simply a Grey's Anatomy stan. If something is off or incorrect please just suspend your disbelief! I am trying my best to make it as accurate as possible but its just for fun!!

warnings below the cut!

warnings: medical terminology, medications, CT scan, blood, infectious diseases referencing spicy times but nothing explicit in this chapter

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

“What happened to you?” little Cece Lannister says when you walk into her room the following day, “You look terrible.”

There’s something about kids; like they’ve been force-fed truth serum and have to say the first thought that comes to their mind. You cock your head to the side, a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. 

“Cerelle,” her mother hisses, cheeks red at her daughter’s brutal honesty. 

“What?” Cece says, eyebrows creasing together, “She does.”

“It’s okay, really,” you tell Mrs. Lannister, as she scolds her daughter again, “Maybe I should get a bed next to you.”

Cece shakes her head, golden curls vibrating as she does. Her hospital gown hangs too big, drooping off her thin shoulders. You wonder if she’s been eating much more than the ice cream they serve after dinner. 

“No roommates, please. I like my alone time; I get to choose whatever station I want,” she says smiling, holding the remote control to the television on the wall. 

“How’re you feeling this morning Cece?” you ask, reaching for the chart that hangs at the foot of her bed. 

The nurses of Citadel General are on top of everything; without them, the hospital would not be able to function. You flip through her chart, eyes scanning her nighttime vitals. 

“Okay,” Cece says, tugging the ear of her stuffed lion.

“I see they increased her muscle relaxant,” you note, “Did you have a hard time sleeping?”

“She always does but I think the spasms are getting worse, especially at night,” Mrs. Lannister says, concerned in her voice. 

“Are you gonna have a scar?” Cece chimes in, pointing to her temple, mirroring where your stitches are.

“Cece-”

“Probably not,” you tell her, giving Mrs. Lannister a small smile, “The doctors here are pretty good you know.”

Cece leans over in her bed, pulling out a small toy doctor kit. 

“I’m a good doctor too,” she says, rummaging through the bag, “Tyrion has had extensive surgical procedures.”

She points at her stuffed lion, and you suddenly notice the different array of bandages and band-aids covering the golden fur. 

“Oh has he?” you ask, as Cece pats the bed beside her. You move to sit on the edge of the bed, holding her chart across your lap.

“Yes,” Cece says, holding out an assortment of bandaids for you to choose from, “I’ll let you choose. I like pink the best.”

You smile, pointing at the pink bandaid with yellow paw prints decorating it. Cece smiles, approving your choice. She peels the backing before pressing the bandage over your stitches, gently pressing on the edges to make sure it sticks.

“There, much better,” she tells you.

“Thank you, Dr. Lannister,” you tell her, which causes her to smile.

“There she is!” Jace calls as you arrive at the nurses' station. His face scrunches as he looks at your forehead, “Nice bandaid.”

“Thanks,” you say, touching the pink bandage, “Courtesy of Cece Lannister. You run that CT scan for her yesterday?”

“You mean after the ruckus you caused?” Jace asks, leaning against the nurses' station, “No, Baratheon put me in the pit. Which is probably where I will stay for the rest of my life.”

“Did anyone get a CT?” you ask, frowning at his theatrics. 

“Um after you left Cory was supposed to cover her labs and stuff,” Jace tells you, “I’d ask her she’ll know-”

“Know what,” Sara says, placing a handful of clipboards between you, “I’ve been on scut duty all morning. Does anyone know why Baratheon is in such a foul mood?”

“Fouler than usual?” Nettles says, stepping up beside you. 

“I’m not sure if I’m able to determine that,” Sara says, groaning, “But she definitely seems angry.”

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” Cory says, weaving through residents, holding two coffee cups above her head, “Seven hells, doesn’t anyone know how to walk in this place?”

“Apparently not,” Nettles comments, as Cory holds a coffee out to you. 

“For you. Figured you’d need the extra caffeine,” she says as you take the cup. Her smile turns down into a frown, “What is on your head?”

You roll your eyes. This is clearly going to be a whole-day occurrence. 

“Interns!” Dr. Baratheon’s voice calls out, and you all turn, straightening yourselves. 

Dr. Baratheon looks down at her clipboard, before bringing her steely blue eyes to look at the five of you. She sighs, flipping through her pages. 

“Martell, now that Dr. Y/L/N is back I want you to assist me on Lyonel Beesbury’s Whipple this afternoon; You can write that on the board,” she says, nodding to herself. 

Cory lets out a soft ‘yes’ before quickly rushing across the hallway. Nettles’ jaw tightens and you can tell she’s disappointed to have not been asked. 

“Waters I want you shadowing Dr. Targaryen today in pediatrics, Dr. Y/L/N you may join her,” Baratheon continues.

Targaryen.

Your heart lurches.

“Dr. Baratheon, I’m supposed to get Cece Lannister that CT scan,” you tell her, as she raises a brow.

“That’s fine. After that bring it to Dr. Targaryen up on peds, she’ll be interested in seeing it,” Dr. Baratheon says, returning her gaze to her clipboard.

“She?” you ask the question leaving your mouth before you can stop it.

Dr. Baratheon sighs, placing her clipboard across her stomach. Her eyebrows lift toward her hairline, blue eyes fiery.

“Yes, she,” Dr. Baratheon quips, “Was there someone else you thought I was referring to?”

“No ma’am,” you say, shaking your head. 

“Good,” she says, eyes moving past you, “Snow, Velaryon, you’re in the pit.”

Sara and Jace audibly groan. Baratheon gives them a stern look which stops their complaining.

“No drama today,” she says sternly, “Understood?” 

You all murmur words of agreement, and Dr. Baratheon brings her eyes back to your face; they flicker up to your forehead. 

“Take that thing off,” she comments, shaking her head and walking down the hall.

“She’s right. You look silly,” Nettles tells you.

“I can’t take it off, it was a gift from a sick kid. You know how much bad luck that will bring me?” you tell her, walking down the hallway.

“Speaking of bad luck,” Nettles says, smiling, “When are you going to tell me about how you know Dr. Sexy?”

“Dr. Sexy?” you say through a laugh, “Not the greatest name.”

“Girl but he is sexy,” she says fanning herself, “Guy’s name should be McDreamy.”

“McDreamy, Dr. Sexy, it’s nothing,” you tell her, “We….we may have hooked up. Once! That’s it and it was before I knew he worked here.”

“You bad girl,” Nettles hisses, though she’s smiling; her eyes bright, “How was it? Does McDreamy live up to his name?”

“Literally the best sex of my life,” you tell her, “But we already decided it can’t happen again.”

“What?” she says, her smile dropping, “It’s not like he’s your boss, he’s a coworker! People fuck coworkers!”

“What happened to not shitting where you eat?” you tell her.

“Girl you already did, might as well see it through! Especially if he’s that good,” she says, leaning closer, “Just….how good, if I may be so bold.”

You wet your lips, trying to fight your smile.

“Five orgasms good,” you admit and Nettles squeals loudly, jaw dropping.

“That does it,” she says, “You’re getting Dr. Sexy back. Do it for me.”

“Don’t you need to get to peds?” you ask, “And see…Dr. Targaryen?”

“Yeah I noted your confusion around that,” she says with a sigh, “Dr. B was talking about Dr. Helaena Targaryen. You know, renowned pediatric surgeon? She does fabulous research on infectious diseases as well; she came and spoke once when I was in med school about…”

Your mind trails off as Nettles speaks, still focused on Aemond. You hadn’t seen him today and yet he was all you could think about. Since dropping you at home you hadn’t spoken, besides the text he sent you. The door couldn’t still be open. Could it?

“...especially in the southern climates like the Summer Isles, Sothoryos, and Naath..are you listening to me?” Nettles says, punching your shoulder slightly, “Right. Anyway, Sounds like you’re boning her brother.”

“Brother?” you ask, connecting the dots, “Shit. He did say he moved back here for family. But a family full of doctors?”

“You really don’t know anything, do you?” Nettles says, shaking her head, “Sorry. That sounded mean. But the Targaryens are like a huge deal in the medical world.”

“I mean, I’ve seen names on research,” you admit, “And maybe a Ted Talk or two but….I mean I didn’t even know his last name when we…I didn’t realize..”

“You’d come straight into the lion’s pit?” Nettles says with a chuckle, “It’s okay, girl. But I’m giving you some homework. Seriously, look them up. Learn a thing or two.”

“I can’t google Aemond,” you tell her, “It’s just…I don’t know that doesn’t feel right.”

“Understandable,” she says with a shrug, “I mean, Spark Notes version, they’re a huge name within the medical community. Big money, big name, big influence. So don’t go pissing any of them off.”

“Right,” you tell her, “Got it.”

“I’m heading to pediatrics,” Nettles says, pressing an elevator button, “See you soon?”

“Yeah,” you tell her, “Just have to get this CT and I’ll be there.”

“Cool. Later, klutz,” she teases as the doors open.

Cerelle Lannister’s CT scan takes much longer than anticipated. The wait is long and the small girl trembles when being taken into the machine, legs flailing each and every way. Only when they’re strapped down is she somewhat still enough to enter the machine. 

“I feel like a mummy,” she says when the straps are secured, “Being put in a sarcophagus.” 

“That’s pretty spooky,” you tell her with a grin.

“I like to pretend when I’m scared,” she says softly.

You reach out and take her hand.

“No need to be scared of this. The machine is just really loud, that’s all. I’ll be just outside,” you assure her.

“Okay,” she says softly, squeezing your hand. 

She does great, staying as still as she can the entire time. You praise her through the microphone and wave as the nurses escort her back to her room, wheeling her in a small wheelchair. Her stuffed lion was safely on her lap. You’ve noticed she rarely lets go of the toy. 

You sit in the room outside, watching as the scan produces results. Forehead creased, you click through the images as someone knocks on the door. You turn, smiling at Jace leaning in the doorway.

“Hey there,” you greet, “Shouldn’t you be in the pit?”

“Had to sneak away for a second,” he says, “Those Cece’s scans?”

“Yeah,” you tell him, beckoning him forward, “See that inflammation there?”

“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning forward, hands on the back of your chair, “So what’s your thinking?”

“Something bacterial,” you tell him, “I mean, there’s no sign of tissue or nerve damage, her labs are stable despite her on-and-off fevers. But it's progressing significantly. She’s having trouble sleeping due to the spasms.”

“Have you ever heard of something that causes this?” Jace asks.

“No, at least not off the top of my head,” you admit, “I’m heading to peds. Maybe Dr. Targaryen will have a better idea. Nettles says she specializes in infectious diseases.”

“Oh…..yeah,” Jace says, straightening up and rubbing the back of his neck. You frown as he tenses, his friendly disposition vanishing.

“Just an idea,” you tell him, gathering your things.

You follow him out of the room. Jace seems uneasy, he rubs at his face, and the collar of his scrubs. 

“No it’s a good one,” he agrees, “I should get back to the pit---”

“Strong,” a voice calls, sending your heart racing. 

Aemond takes several strides toward the two of you, a smug smile on his face. Something in your gut tightens, the memory of your night together burning in the back of your mind. He wore a similar expression then, one full of confidence. Goosebumps erupt on your skin. You can hear his voice from that night, as he whispered in your ear while sheathed to the hilt inside of you. 

“Who’s my good girl, hmm?”

You blink, shaking your head, trying to physically expel the memory from your mind. Your cheeks heat up and you notice Jace has turned several shades darker as well, fists clenched at his side. 

“I thought you were assigned to the pit, Strong,” Aemond asks, cocking his head to the side, “I would hate to have to tell Baratheon you’re disobeying orders.”

Aemond’s sentence hits you like a slap in the face. He’s not as cool, calm, and collected right now as he was the last time you’d seen him. He’s bordering on being cruel. You glance at Jace. 

“It’s Velaryon,” Jace says, through his teeth.

“Come again?” Aemond asks, “Don’t mumble, Jacaerys, it’s unseemly.” 

“My name,” Jace says sternly, “Velaryon.”

Aemond’s mouth quirks into an amused grin. 

“My apologies,” he says smoothly, “You’ll have to forgive me, it’s easy to forget.”

“Sure,” Jace says, nose wrinkling.

“Give my best to your dad,” Aemond says, “Whichever one, you’re choice.”

Aemond turns to you, something flickering across his eyes. 

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he says with a curt nod, before walking away, hands tucked behind his back.

Jace exhales, striding over to the elevator. You follow close behind as his pager beeps.

“What the hell was that about?” you ask, stepping inside with him.

“Nothing.”

“Jace, that wasn’t nothing.”

“He was just messing with me,” Jace insists, not meeting your eyes.

“Why was Dr. Targaryen messing with you?”

“Because he’s a narcissistic pig!”

Your eyes widen and Jace sighs, shaking his head. 

“He’s….he’s my uncle okay,” Jace admits. Your eyes widen.

“Your uncle?”

“Yes, and my side of the family doesn’t really get along with his side,” Jace says, as the doors open to your floor.

“But why-”

“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Jace says, shaking his head, “I have to go. Sara just paged, some drunk deadbeat riling everyone up downstairs.”

You step outside the elevator but turn back to him.

“I want the full story, Velaryon. Not the Cliff Notes, the whole story,” you tell him. 

“Okay!” he reluctantly agrees, “Later.”

“Tonight, Dragon’s Den, tell Sara!” you call as the doors begin to close.

“So I can air my dirty laundry to everyone?!” 

“Exactly!” you call as the doors shut. 

Turning on your heel, you head down the hall to pediatrics. You can’t wait to share the details with Nettles as you push through the double doors and head to the nurses' station. 

“Excuse me,” you ask a nurse, “Have you seen Dr. Targareyn?”

“Which one?”

“Dr. Helaena Targaryen,” you clarify.

“She was just here, she’ll roll around in a moment.”

“I’m sorry…..roll?”

Just as the question leaves your lips, the sound of wheels against linoleum is heard from down the hall. A woman in light green scrubs and a white lab coat rolls on her heels down the hallway. Nettles jogs behind her as she turns, coming to a stop in front of you. 

Her silver hair is shaggy, but the resemblance to Aemond is uncanny. A large butterfly pin holds some out of her face and she smiles brightly as you greet her. 

“Been waiting for you,” she says, holding a hand out for you to place your scans in, “Aemond told me all about you.”

You nearly choke on your saliva and Nettles’ eyes go round.

“He--he did?” you squeak.

“Mhmm,” Helaena says, flicking through the scans, “Quite the first day you had.”

“Oh right,” you say, relief washing through you.

“Glad you’re okay,” Helaena says, glancing up at you, “Nice bandaid.”

“Thanks,” you tell her.

“Cece Lannister,” she muses, “What is going on with you.”

“I was hoping you’d have thoughts,” you ask.

“Has she traveled anywhere recently?” Dr. Taragreyn asks, frowning at the scans, “You’re thinking it’s some sort of infection, correct?”

“Yes,” you tell her, “And I’m not sure about her travel history.”

“Find out,” she tells you, “If you’re going to find out what this is, you need to find out what caused it and where.”

She hands you the scans, smiling once more.

“Nice to meet you,” she says with a smile, “Officially this time.”

Your cheeks heat up. She knows. She remembers. You vaguely remember Aemond speaking with his sister before leaving; you’d barely caught a glimpse of her. 

“Yeah,” you agree, smiling weakly. 

You hurry off after that, eager to get back to Cece Lannister’s room to inquire about her recent travels. Walking down the hall you enter one of the many elevators, waiting patiently as it stops on nearly every floor, doctors coming in and out. 

Then it's just you and someone else, you look out of the corner of your eye and recognize him. 

Dr. Cole smiles at you.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks.

“Better, thanks to my cool bandaid, not the stitches and rest,” you tell him, cracking a smile.

“So cool,” he says with a laugh, “I had a kid give me a bandaid covered in oranges the other day.”

“Tropical,” you comment as the doors open.

“Good to see under better circumstances,” Dr. Cole says, beginning to exit, “Ah Dr. Targaryen.”

Your blood runs cold as Aemond enters the elevator.

“Will I be seeing you this afternoon?” Dr. Cole asks, “I’ve got an aneurysm clipping if you’re interested.”

“Always, if you’ll have me,” Aemond says, and Dr. Cole nods as the doors close. 

You’re alone. With him. Alone with him. Your heart pounds frantically in your chest, anxiety making your senses heighten. The elevator suddenly feels very small, and closed in; the air not being pushed through the vents quick enough. Aemond stares straight ahead, not looking at you and not attempting to engage in polite conversation. Your stomach sours and you swallow. 

“Hey,” you say tentatively. 

You glance at Aemond out of the corner of your eye and watch him look down at his feet. You scoff softly, annoyed by his ignoring of you. The elevator hums and your anger pools quickly in your belly; flames licking upwards to your face. 

“So you’re ignoring me now?” you ask, getting no reply, “Really mature.”

Aemond continues looking at his shoes, hands folded behind his back. 

“We’re colleagues, the least you could do is make polite conversation,” you huff, pressing the elevator button once more.

You know it won’t make it arrive quicker, but you need something to do with your hands. 

“And that whole thing with Jace?” you say, pressing the button again and again, “I don’t know what your problem is, but clearly that was an asshole move--”

Your hand is yanked away from the button, long fingers wrapping around your wrist and suddenly his lips are on yours. The hand around your wrist falls and both his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

Your anger dissipates almost immediately, as you link your arms around his neck fisting the hair at the nape of his neck. The moan this causes him to release, sends your knees buckling, and he brings one hand to your ass, squeezing harshly. 

Spearmint and tea. He tastes so good, mouth so warm and soft moving against your own you can’t help but whimper as he cradles your jaw with his free hand. Desire pools in your belly, and a desperate gasp leaves your lips.

Aemond drags his lips to kiss your jaw, and your neck as his opposite hand cradles the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheekbone. You’re so needy, so responsive to his touch, you want him so desperately, and then---

The elevator dings and you push away from each other, breathing heavily as the doors open and more residents and attendings enter. You quickly get your bearings springing out of the elevator and onto your floor. 

“Y/N!” Aemond calls, walking after you. 

Your pager goes off just as he reaches you, and you squint down at it. 

“Code White Cerelle Lannister,” you tell him, going numb with shock, “I just saw her-”

“Go,” Aemond says, before turning to a nurse, “That’s a medical emergency, page Dr. Helaena Targaryen!”

You hurry down the hallway, breaking out into a run as you enter Cerelle’s room. Dr. Baratheon is there already, Mrs. Lannister sobbing holding onto Cece’s stuffed lion. Cece’s sheets are soaked with sweat as she thrashes. 

Not sweat.

Blood.

It’s as if Cece is sweating blood. 

“Hematidrosis,” Dr. Baratheon says, readying a syringe, “Push one of epi.”

“Cece it’s gonna be okay,” you tell her, as Dr. Baratheon hands you the syringe. 

Cerelle’s eyes are wide, tears streaming down her face leaving clear rivers through his red-tinged cheeks. 

You give her the epinephrine. Slowly but surely her sweating ceases, and her forehead begins to dry. Her legs spasm, stronger than before. She’s getting worse. 

“Mrs. Lannister,” Dr. Baratheon says, trying to console the weeping woman, “Mrs. Lannister it’s alright. While Hematidrosis is quite disturbing, it’s not serious.”

“Not serious?!” Mrs. Lannister says in a shrill voice, eyes wide, “My daughter is sweating blood, and you’re telling me it’s not serious?”

“Paged,” Dr. Targareyn says entering the room, “Dr. Baratheon.”

“Mrs. Lannister, this is Dr. Helaena Targaryen, one of our pediatric surgeons and infectiology specialists.”

“Infecto..what?” Mrs. Lannister says as Helaena moves around Cece’s bed. 

Cece’s eyes are panicked and she holds onto your wrist with a vice-like grip.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” you tell her, “Dr. Targaryen is just checking on you.”

Helaena brings out a penlight, instructing Cece to follow it with her eyes.

“Mrs. Lannister, have you traveled anywhere recently?” she asks, continuing her assessment. 

“Um,” Mrs. Lannister struggles to find words, placing a hand on her forehead and closing her eyes, “Yes. We got back a couple of weeks ago.”

“Where?”

“Naath. It was Cece’s idea, she’d been reading about the flora and fauna, she’s such a bright kid she loves all that stuff,” Mrs. Lannister says through tears.

Helaena smiles at Cece.

“I like that stuff too,” she tells the young girl, “Cece, what did you see on your trip? Any cool plants, bugs, animals?”

“L-lots,” Cece answers shakily, still holding on to you tightly.

“Tell me about them.”

“Um well…they’re famous for their butterflies,” Cece tells her, “They’re huge.”

“They are,” Helaena confirms, “I’ve never seen them in person, but I’d like to. Did you touch any butterflies?”

“Yes, but I washed my hands! Right after!”

“What color was the butterfly you touched?”

“There were so many--”

“Try and remember, the ones you know you touched.”

“Blue…..green…..one that was black and white,” she says teary-eyed, “Did the butterfly hurt me?”

“It didn’t mean to,” Helaena says softly, “They don’t know any better.”

“Butterfly fever. It’s a bacterial infection spread in Naath,” Helaena says to you and Dr. Baratheon outside Cece’s room, “She’ll need a routine of antibiotics, I can consult with my team on a proper regime.”

She turns to you.

“Good work,” she praises, “Butterfly fever can get pretty nasty. Skin sloughing off, and so forth.”

“She’s right, Y/L/N,” Dr. Baratheon praises, “Good work.”

“Thanks,” you tell her. 

After establishing Cece’s antibiotic treatment and giving it to the nurses' station, you make your way to the intern locker room. You quickly change out of your scrubs, eager to be back in normal clothes. Closing your locker, you check your phone. Jace, Sara, Cory, and Nettles have texted saying they’re waiting down in the lobby.

You leave the locker room, putting your phone in your pocket when you see him. Leaning against the door Aemond’s head turns as you walk out.

“Hey,” he says, straightening up. He’s still in scrubs, clearly, his shift isn’t over.

“Hey.”

He’s quiet for a moment, wetting his lips as he tries to find the words he wants to say.

“Look about earlier--”

“Aemond,” you cut him off, “We can either do this or not. You’re either in or out, but you have to make a decision.”

Aemond is silent, blue and violet eyes watching you. 

“What do you want?” he asks quietly.

“I just want you,” you answer honestly, “What do you want?”

“I….” Aemond struggles to speak, biting the tip of his tongue.

It’s not an outright rejection, but it still hurts like one. You sigh, looking down at your shoes. 

“I can’t decide for you,” you tell him, beginning to walk by, “That’s up to you.”

He doesn’t stop you as you continue to walk by, doesn’t reach out and pull you toward him. He lets you go. You find your friends in the lobby, force a smile on your face as you travel to the Dragon’s Den, and eagerly accept the tequila shots Cory buys you. There’s no text this time. 

Perhaps he made his choice. 

note: hope you liked it!! LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!

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[nowimjustastranger]

fic request for stcmo- just ford helping out a stan. whatever interests you

Lee knew that it was a bad day before he even opened his eyes.

He felt like he was experiencing the world through a haze of numbness, his senses dull. Even opening his eyes to add sight to the mix didn’t help the veil lift, so he found himself staring up at the ceiling blankly. It took him a few moments to register that he didn’t feel present in his own body, his eyelids drooping with exhaustion that no amount of sleep could ever fix.

Lee let his eyes close because he simply couldn’t think of a reason to keep them open, drifting in and out of awareness. However, he knew it wouldn’t last; which came as a muted shock because he wasn’t sure how he knew that until a tentative hand settled on his shoulder. The hand was a warm weight on his bare skin, six fingers spreading out to cover as much surface area as possible.

“Lee,” An equally warm voice murmured, blanketing him with a sense of familiarity that was far more kind than the inescapable nothing that held him in a vice grip. “It’s almost two in the afternoon.”

Lee managed a weak grunt of acknowledgement, lacking the energy to provide more substance to the conversation. Ford didn’t seem to mind his lackluster response though, the bed dipping as he delicately climbed onto the bed beside Lee. And even if Ford’s company was unexpected, it wasn’t altogether unwelcome.

“Can you do something for me, Lee?” Ford asked, his body slotting against Lee’s back with an ease that had his chest tightening. Lee turned his head just enough to peek at Ford from over his shoulder, only able to see the top of Ford’s fluffy gray hair since he had his cheek pressed against the dip between Lee’s shoulder blades.

“Whaddya need, Ace?” Lee mumbled, lazily letting his head flop back down onto the pillow, trying to wrestle his mind into something that resembled functional. Lee already knew that he was going to do whatever Ford asked of him regardless of his poor mental state, he would sooner drive a nail through his own hand than deny Ford anything he needed.

“Could you call for me when you feel like this? I don’t want you to be alone.” Ford whispered, the words saturated with the kind of fear that Lee was all too familiar with. Lee’s eyes closed as the shroud of numbness slipped away, sucking in a fortifying breath before resolutely rolling over to face Ford, who immediately ducked his head to hide his face in the crook of Lee’s neck.

“Ain’t alone, Digit.” Lee huffed, affectionately knocking his jaw against Ford’s temple to try and coax him to come out. It worked like a charm since Ford could never resist the temptation of physical contact, his head raising to nuzzle Lee properly.

“You were.” Ford countered without missing a beat, running the bridge of his nose across Lee’s jaw, tracing an invisible path. “You were alone. For hours. Anything could’ve hap–”

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” Lee cut in, knowing better than to let Ford’s mind gain enough traction to pursue those dark avenues.

“I know. I know, Lee. But… but I can’t–” Ford couldn’t seem to finish the sentence, unable to find the words that could accurately convey the maelstrom of emotions that resided in his head. Thankfully, Stan could read in between the lines well enough.

“I’ll say it until you believe me.” Lee declared, one of his arms sliding over Ford’s waist to draw him closer while the other stayed tucked between their chests. Ford obediently closed the gap between them with a few calculated adjustments, tucking an arm under the pillow that Lee was resting his head on while his other hand trailed up and down Lee’s arm.

“You’ll be saying it forever then.” Ford warned with a half-hearted chuckle, an undeniable thread of truth in what was otherwise presented as a joke. Lee tenderly tapped his forehead against Ford’s with a sigh, lips twitching in amusement when Ford’s piercing gaze snapped to his face like he was the only thing worth looking at.

“Fine by me.” Lee said with a deceptively casual shrug, holding eye contact until the message was received. Ford slowly nodded with a soft exhale, the tense line of his shoulders easing as he melted into the contact, his eyes closing.

“Lee.” Ford said in a hushed tone, part statement and part desperate plea.

“I won’t leave you. Not like that.” Lee promised, relieved to find that he was speaking the truth. The thought of leaving Ford behind made Lee’s throat close up, blinking rapidly against the telltale burn of unshed tears. Lee couldn’t take another brother from Ford, it would be cruel to give in to his dark urges and condemn Ford to travel down the one-way road of self-destruction.

Funny how it was easier to stay when it was for someone else’s sake.

[vulturv0lans]

you asked for neuvillette smut ideas and you shall receive. you've perhaps seen this prompt already and that's because i am ✨unwell✨ about it.

he should have a forked tongue, he would look so good with one🫠🫠🫠 and it should have interesting uses~

OH GOD I JUST READ THAT LAST NIGHT!! let me just say i love this idea so much that i have to post it NOW when i should be asleep 🫠 i’ll add my theme & formatting later <3

i like to think that you find out about his special abilities after a night out, because there’s no way you haven’t discovered this a good few months into a relationship :) like you’d meet him at a party or at a bar, and before you know it you’re pressed up against the wall in some dimly lit back room and this man is all. over. you. in a manner that even the chief justice in him cannot control. if anyone who frequents the opera epiclese finds him like this, they’d probably question that he’d been possessed by a completely different man - so impulsive, so needy, acting out his heart’s every desire.

with the way he’s kissing you so fervently, it doesn’t take long for you to notice something different about his kisses. when he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, your eyes shoot open and you pull back a little, earning a dissatisfied grunt from neuvillette as he chases after you.

“come back here-”

you reject his advances, holding him at an arm’s length and studying his features intently. he mumbles his disapproval and tries to tighten his grip on your waist, but you dodge his kiss, choosing to find out the reason behind the completely new sensation on your lips.

“open your mouth.”

you’re not sure what you sound like at this point. an impatient dentist, maybe, or a person so desperate for something more…primal. you feel like the latter is the more correct answer.

the frown on his face soon turns into a smirk, and it bothers you on a fundamental, cellular level to see him so smug, as if he knows something you don’t-

large hands encircle yours as he brings your arm up to his lips, before licking a sensual, bold stripe up the inner side of your wrists.

and you just about melt right there when you finally notice. the tip of his tongue is forked in a manner so perfect, that you can only compare it to something straight out of the legends and storybooks.

you gasp, the wet patch on your skin now feeling cool in the exposed air and the wet patch elsewhere is now feeling…wetter.

“seeing that you enjoyed it, i can think of several ways to put that to good use, hm?”

and the rest is history. you don’t remember how you got to his apartment, nor how you ended up half naked on his couch, with the chief justice of fontaine between your legs.

you start to question if his tongue has a mind of its own, which soon turns into alarmed curiosity about where exactly he learned these maneuvers. it’s not like he has loads of free time to just experiment, right?

but when your clit is caught between the split ends of his tongue, your brain ceases to be able to function overtime and all you can think about is that you need him to eat you out at least three times a day, if not more.

the tips are nestled so perfectly against your dripping pussy, spreading you open just enough for the occasional dips inside and the expert swirls of your clit. your back arches off the sofa as your legs close around his head, earning a moan that sends vibrations into the deepest parts of your body. you reach down to pull on his hair, the white strands matted against his forehead and your inner thighs from sweat and your juices.

“i’m gonna have to punish you if you keep doing this,” he warns, and for a moment you almost believe he’ll bring down the wrath of the oratrice mecanique on you. but he wastes no time in diving right back to his feast, dipping his tongue into your throbbing hole. your insides feel like they are on fire as he tickles nerve endings you didn’t even know you had, reaching so deep into your pussy that you cum right there and then with a loud cry of his name.

neuvillette doesn’t stop. instead, he only pumps in and out of you faster, the slurping noises now too lewd for even the wildest imaginations, mixed with praise mumbled directly into your pussy. even in your dazed and fucked out state, the only remaining piece of your conscience questions if you’ll ever come down from this high as he eats you out like a man starved, large hands firmly keeping your legs spread for easy access and your juices dripping down his chin. and still he doesn’t stop, not until you’ve cummed two, three, or four more times, until you’ve squirted all over his face, until there’s nothing else in your mind except for him.

you know there’s no getting out of it until he’s satisfied, but for this time you’ll happily oblige.

—

i want him so bad wtf

neuvillette m.list | m.list | rules | inbox

© vulturv0lans 2023, do not copy, repost, or translate without permission

[whumpsoda]

if ur doing prompts may I request a pet whump where pets are so common that there’s been a serum invented to take away higher cognitive functions from whumpee’s and overload them in oxytocin. so while still them—they can’t understand how to read and miss many conversation cues. all they know is that they used to be scared, they’re treated nicely, and enjoy sitting by the fire

Inspiration finally struck, and I can’t say no to pet whump!! Taglist: @softvampirewhump

cw: mentions of vomit, pet whump, dehumanization, drug use, injection and needle

———————————————————————

The rugged man sighed, gazing down at the man defrosting at his feet. “Alright darlin’. It’s time for your medicine.” Whumper’s thick, gloved thumb glazed over his pet’s frosty cheek.

“Mmm…” the pet hummed, the words of his master practically flowing right over his head. Whumpee was far too enraptured in the sensation of the growing fire warming his chilled skin, as well as the plush feel of the blanket which engulfed him. 

Whumpee couldn’t exactly recall how he’d gotten so cold in the first place, but wasn’t very concerned with it. He’d probably just gotten carried away outside again. He just got so excited when Master would let him out, even in such a brutal winter. All that mattered was how nice and comfortable he was now, anyway.

He snuggled eagerly into the stroke of affection on his face, a lazy smile resting on his lips. 

Whumper was trying to pull away from his beloved book, an impossibly large one Whumpee had seen him engulfed in for days now. The pet was always shocked that Master was so smart, being able to get through such a thing, and even enjoying it.

Master flicked swiftly through the pages, the crinkle of paper mixing with the pop and crackle of the fire. The pleasant beat of heat on Whumpee’s skin was beyond enjoyable, and if he had a choice he would most definitely choose to be in such a state forever.

Reading, or trying to at the very least, was always a painful experience for Whumpee, a situation he was not a fan of. A pet wasn’t exactly fit for reading in the first place though, so it was never much of a problem he dwelled on.

Master’s fingers began to slip from his head, tempting to pull away. At the notice of Whumper’s touch beginning to waver, the pet desperately pushed his head back into the man’s hand.

He simply chuckled in response. “I need to get your meds, sweet. It’ll take just a moment ‘n I’ll be right back.” 

Whumpee whimpered dejectedly, savoring the last of the contact before his master fully pulled away. He held back the urge to beg for more, instead opting to be grateful that Master had been kind enough to grant him such a gift in the first place.

Whumper pushed his tired limbs from his beloved leather chair next to the fire place, his thick socks shuffling on the floor as he walked past. The pet could faintly pick up the noise of his master bumbling around the kitchen, gradually becoming increasingly nervous with what was to come.

Whumpee didn’t like the injections, or the medicine itself. The injection hurt, and no matter how slight or insignificant, he did not like it. He especially wasn’t fond of the way the drugs made him feel, spinning his animal brain in circles and bringing bile up his throat.

But he couldn’t not have the medication. All pets took it, he knew that much. And if Master said he needed it, then there was no doubt he did! Even if no amount of good behavior could seemingly get him out of it.

Whumpee was snapped from his thoughts by the sudden sight of Whumper towering over him, sweetly ruffling his damp hair. The pet wished he could have enjoyed the affection more, as his stomach churned with growing discomfort.

He wriggled in his fuzzy fabric pile, becoming visibly upset as he listened to Whumper ready his tools. “Hush, boy, you’ll be fine. Same stuff as always.” 

The words did close to nothing to calm his nerves, simply washing through one ear and rippling out the other. His struggles were only halted by the commanding grasp of his master’s glove on his chin.

Master was strong, strong enough to punish any slight disobedience in the blink of an eye. As much as Whumpee disliked it, he quieted his dismay.

“I know you hate it, but there’s no way around it. Your meds help you stay such a good boy. Don’t wanna turn naughty now, do you?” Master questioned.

Whumpee shook his head energetically, staring up with pleading eyes. Of course he didn’t want to be bad! He wouldn’t dream of it, Master had to know that!

As if the pet had answered aloud, the other man gave him a satisfactory smile. “Of course you wouldn’t. So be a good boy and stay still for Master, alright?” 

Whumpee tried his very hardest to keep himself still and tense, only guided by the clutch on his chin. He fearfully clamped his eyes tight, sticking his lids together with all of his might.

Familiar sounds spread around him, ones he desperately tried to shut out in fear of making any mistakes that could irritate his master. “Doin’ so good, darlin’. Just one moment and we’ll be all done. Still for just one more second.” 

Master’s soothing voice licked his delicate ears, almost distracting him from the sense of the needle descending to his pale flesh. 

The prick of the edge puncturing his skin was almost instant, as well as scarily alarming. Practically against his own will Whumpee lurched forward, the nick seering in a jolt of pain. Whumper gripped his frame firmly in response, almost painfully so.

Whumpee squealed frightfully. Pet didn’t like it! He didn’t like it, he didn’t like it! Master always said it wasn’t a punishment, yet it always felt like it! 

Whumper’s gloves dug into his exposed skin, only encouraging Whumpee to struggle more. 

“Okay, okay, we’re done!” The grip restraining Whumpee disappeared in an instant, leaving the ghost of an angry touch.

His breaths continued, yet ragged and shaky. He noticed the creep of tears in his eyes, no matter how eager he was to prevent them. Whumper cleaned up his tools, gathering them to return to their rightful spot to ready them for the next time. “S’all over now, boy. We’re all done.” Master soothed, a slight tinge of annoyance prevalent.

A light flame of anger lit deep inside of the pet. It wasn’t over, not yet. 

Whumpee jerked forward yet again, grabbing for the rug below him to contain himself. A wave of painful thickness was settling over him. His vision was quickly growing fuzzy and bleak, the room swaying around him. A warm, thick slurry rose, sliding up his throat and lingering just there. He tried to regain himself, an act that quickly became futile as his strength lessened. The pet’s limbs shook, weakened and afraid.

With glossy eyes and sickly sight he searched for his master, who was sitting comfortably in his chair once again. Whumpee could only make out a pleased smile on the man’s face as the pet clung to his pant leg. 

Whumpee gagged fearfully, the sick sense tainting his throat. His brain was swimming, cotton and clouds making their way inside. His thoughts were becoming gummy, slowing and allowing himself to calm. Coherency was hard to reach, and he soon gave up on the task.  As long as Master was around, he’d be fine.

Whumper put a hand to his pet’s swaying head, guiding the man against his own leg. Whumpee’s sluggish muscles were thankful for the help, surrendering to Master’s whims. 

With his thoughts so hard to reach, his limbs so tired, and the pain subsiding, Whumpee was gradually calming, melting into his master. Hearing was fuzzy, as well as most things at the moment, but he could mostly make out Whumper’s purr of words.

“Relax now, darlin’. It’ll be fine in a bit. Gotta keep you all nice and good, right? Be a good boy and take a little nap while you’re all out’ve it.” Whumpee cuddled further into the man, desperate to follow him. His blanket was soon placed softly back on his shoulders, as his drool drowsily trickled onto crusty denim fabric.

Whumpee was losing consciousness, a pull he was fully willing to give in to. Master said he should, and so he would, simple as that. As long as he could be a good pet when he woke up, the hurt would all be worth it.

[janeyseymour]

hellooo i hope you’re well!

i would like to make a request, a melissa x reader. where they’re married and the reader has always struggled with sleeping. they’re on meds but sometimes they honestly don’t work or help. so mel has gotten into the routine of staying up with reader and eventually r will fall asleep on the couch, in mels arms etc.. one night ava decides to have a sleepover at the school for teachers and the students (like the field trip ep in abbott). the r freaks out a bit because they won’t have the routine with mel like they usually do.. after what feels like hours of fun the r passes out in mels arms as they are in the floor with the rest of the staff (telling story’s to each other).. mel goes into loving wife mode (basically saying to everyone to be quiet so her wife can sleep). SORRY FOR THE RAMBLE I JUST THINK THIS IS SO CUTE.

lots of fluff, lovey mel, overprotective mel..

I intended on writing a different fic tonight, but this one just started writing itself so... as always, not edited in the slightest.

Insomniac's Lullaby

WC: ~2.5k

You’ve always struggled with sleep. It was just a part of who you were. Insomnia haunted you late at night, and you would be lucky to get three hours of sleep most nights. You had tried melatonin early on into these sleeping problems, and it didn’t help. You didn’t feel like going to the doctor about this though- not when you were perfectly functional with the amount of sleep you got.

Melissa, your wife, has come to understand this about you, and with a little pestering, convinced you to go to the doctor for it. They were able to officially diagnose you with insomnia, and they were able to prescribe medication for you.

The first day that you were supposed to take it, you flat out refused.

“Mel, what if it really knocks me out and then I’m not up for work tomorrow?” you asked her hesitantly.

She sighed. “We’ll try them over the weekend, okay?”

“I really don’t think I need it to begin with,” you told her.

“Amore, it’s rather unhealthy the lack of sleep you get, and I would like to spend the rest of my life with you. I don’t need the rest of your life to be cut short because you don’t get nearly the proper amount of sleep,” she pulled you into her arms. “Please, just try them over the weekend.”

So you did. And they worked magically. You took your medication religiously for about two months before it stopped working its magic with 100% efficiency. 

On those nights where the medication doesn’t work, Melissa has made the habit of staying up with you to let you know that you aren’t alone. Or at least, she tries.

“Babe,” you sigh. “You really don’t have to. I know you’re tired, and you deserve to sleep.”

“I am a dedicated wife,” she tuts as she settles into the couch with you. “If you’re up, I’m up. If you’re heading to bed, I’m heading to bed.”

“I can just watch tv in bed,” you tell her.

“But I know that isn’t super comfortable for you,” she rolls her eyes. “I’ll be fine. We have a big couch, and we can sprawl out.”

“But your back-”

“Will be fine,” she raises a brow. “Don’t call me old.”

“I said no such thing,” you raise your hands in surrender.

“Just lay down,” the redhead huffs.

You lay down, and she lays down and holds you to her chest. You turn on the television, and you lay there for hours. You know Melissa is still awake because you can feel the way that her right hand is lazily tracing your hip bone. So you start to feign sleep.

“I know you’re still awake,” she mumbles into your neck.

“I am,” you admit. “But you need sleep.”

“So do you,” she mutters. “How can I help you relax- without sex? I’m too tired for that right now.”

“I don’t know,” you whisper and turn to face her. Her eyes are half open, and she’s clearly fighting the sleep that wants to take her so desperately.

“Roll over,” your wife tells you as she helps you lay on your stomach. Before you can ask what she’s going to do, you feel her warm hand start to draw patterns on your back. It lulls you to sleep rather quickly, and as soon as she’s sure you’re out for the night, she too gives into her slumber.

That becomes a habit, but even then, that doesn’t always work. On those nights, after seemingly forever, you can convince her that the two of you can lay in bed so she’s more comfortable. She begrudgingly agrees, but she insists on carrying you.

“I can walk, Mel,” you roll your eyes as she fireman carries you up the steps and gently lays you on the bed.

“But then you’ll wake your body up, and we’re so close to getting you to sleep,” your wife tells you as she turns on the overhead fan and crawls into bed with you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you chuckle softly.

“Yeah, and you love me,” she huffs as she starts to spoon you. Her arms find their way around your waist, and you feel as her fingers trace delicate patterns on your stomach. Melissa kisses the back of your shoulder, and lulls you to sleep with her gentle humming.

Nights like this continue, and the two of you are set in your routines. Get to sleep however you can, and if it’s a particularly late night, you’re in charge of making sure the redheaded teacher has enough caffeine in her system to keep her going through the day.

The two of you are rather content in these routines- even if it means your wife can be testier on days where she isn’t as well rested as she’d like to be. You apologize to both her and the staff for her cranky attitude on those days. None of them know you suffer from insomnia and just assume the two of you had a wild night the previous night. Melissa’s stupid smirk does not help put these assumptions to bed.

But it all changes one day when Ava comes sauntering into the staff room during the lunch period claiming that she has a foolproof way to get everybody to bond. A staff sleepover with the students. 

Your eyes widen, and they meet Melissa’s. She can immediately read your mind and understand that you’re internally freaking out because your routine will get messed up, and you thrive on routine. The second grade teacher also understands that you won’t be able to take your medication because that usually knocks you out pretty well, and you have to be somewhat coherent if something happens in the middle of the night with your students. She lays a gently hand over your thigh and rubs her thumb back and forth to soothe you until the two of you can get home and talk it over.

“I don’t think I can do it, Mel,” you mumble tearfully that night. “I just don’t think I can handle our routine being messed up.”

“I’ll figure it out… Ava owes me a few favors,” the redhead tries to assure you.

Unfortunately, she can’t deliver. She tells your wife regretfully that they can’t have substitutes stay in overnight, and she’s already sent out the school wide newsletter announcing this plan. So the two of you are stuck doing this lock-in. She promises you’ll be taken care of.

The day of the lock-in comes quicker than you would have liked, and you’re beyond nervous. The two of you head home quickly to eat dinner and pack your things before returning to the school. The kids are beyond happy to see you, and you’re able to forget about your worries for quite a few hours as the students participate in activities with you. It’s all laughs and smiles, and you can tell Melissa is thrilled to see that you’re having a good time.

At some point, a few of the students who had Melissa in second grade and you in third grade flock around you, giggling.

“What?” your wife rolls her eyes. “Oi, I thought I got rid of youse years ago,” she teases them.

“Mel,” you playfully smack her arm. “Be nice. They’re just saying hi.”

“Actually, we have a question for you two,” Jada giggles.

“Oh good lord,” you mumble before looking to her. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“How did you and Ms. Schemmenti get together?”

“Mrs. Schemmenti, now,” your wife corrects.

“How did you and Mrs. Schemmenti get together?” Jada repeats her question. 

You tell them the child-friendly version of your love story, and by the end of it, the kids are giggling with glee.

“Thanks, Mrs. Schemmentis!” the group of girls hug the two of you before running off and sitting down in a circle a few paces away. They’re clearly talking about their own love lives, and you can hear one of them say that they hope they find a partner like the two of you.

Eventually though, the students start settling down, some in the gym and some in the cafeteria. A few of the other teachers have volunteered themselves to stay in the different rooms with the kids, and your usual crew somehow gets hallway duty together.

Your wife was smart enough to bring one of your blowup mattresses from home and gets it set up while you make sure that your kids are settling down well enough to not give the other third grade teachers a hard time. When you get back, your bed is made, she’s in her pajamas, and she’s propped up by the wall as she chats with Barb. The two of them are watching is Janine lays out a sleeping bag, telling the two of them that she’ll actually be fine sleeping on the floor because the tiles are cold and it’ll help her sleep better.

“Yeah kid,” Melissa laughs. “Don’t complain when your back is killing you tomorrow.”

You grab your bag from next to Melissa before heading into the bathroom to change. When you’re finished, you settle on the bed next to your wife, but she has different plans. She gestures for you to sit in between her legs and prop yourself up against her. The two of you take up this position at home quite often, but you’re shocked she’s allowing you to do it at school in front of your coworkers.

The teachers that you’re sitting with all trade stories and reminisce about their years at Abbott. Every once in a while, you put in your own little quip, but you mostly let your friends do the talking.

You feel Melissa’s arms around you, her right hand tracing patterns on your hipbone like she does at home, while she uses her left arm to hold you up, her left hand finding it’s place to rest on your stomach. 

Barbara is telling some story about the first year that her and Melissa started, a story that you had heard hundreds of times between the two, when you feel your eyelids get heavier.

“And then Melissa-” and that’s the last thing you hear before you fall asleep in your wife’s arms.

It takes a bit for your wife to realize that you’ve fallen asleep. She had noticed your breathing start to even out, but she just assumed that you were relaxing for once.

“Aw,” Janine coos. “Y/N is so cute when she’s sleeping.”

“She’s asleep?” Melissa raises a brow as she looks down at you. Sure enough, you’re sound asleep in her arms. “No more stories. Goodnight.”

“What?” Jacob asks. “But we were just getting to-”

“I said good. night.” the redhead silently challenges him to argue back.

“Melissa dear,” Barb says softly. “We’re all just having a good time, and Y/N has been asleep for the last fifteen minutes. Surely, us continuing to chat won’t wake her.”

“Barb,” Melissa grits out.

“What’s the fuss?” the kindergarten teacher asks.

Your wife bites her lip before glancing back down at you and kissing your temple. “None youse better tell Y/N I told you this.”

They all cross their hearts silently.

“She struggles a lot with sleep. She takes medication to help her, but sometimes it don’t always work. On nights where she really has a hard time, the only thing that can really get her to sleep and stay asleep is me.”

“How cute,” Jacob says softly.

“Y/N was pretty nervous about tonight, knowing she couldn’t take her medication with the kids being here and having to respond to something if we have to. We also have routines for when she can’t take her medication or when it just isn’t working.”

“Sex?” Ava chimes in.

“No,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “But she really thought tonight was going to be a sleepless night for her. So if she’s sleeping, youse need to shut up so she can stay asleep. And if she wakes up, there will be hell to pay. Woman needs it after only getting two hours of sleep last night.”

Barbara nods and starts to get herself comfortable on her own mattress.

“Is that why she always comes in looking exhausted?” Gregory asks.

“On days when she can’t sleep, yeah.”

“And you come in looking exhausted too?” Janine clarifies.

“Yeah. I stay up with her and try to find ways to get her to sleep.”

“Damn,” Ava sighs as she lays down. “I just thought y’all were freaky.”

There’s a chorus of a hushed, “Ava!” before everyone else lays down and gets ready to sleep.

“If any of the kids need anything, Y/N is last resort,” Melissa warns as she gets you to lay down. She curls up next to you, kisses your temple, and lets her eyes flutter shut.

You wake up the next morning feeling absolutely refreshed. There’s no chatter around you like you thought there would be.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Melissa whispers as she brushes a few hairs away from your face. You blink your eyes open, and there is your wife looking as gorgeous as ever holding her coffee mug. You glance around- there’s no students.

“Everyone else is up with them, and they’re all having breakfast in the classrooms,” she tells you as she hands you your mug.

“Crap,” you mumble as you go to sit up. “I guess I gotta get to my room so they can-”

“Mr. J has our classes handled,” your wife tells you.

“How did the kids get around me?” you ask as you run your fingers through your hair.

“Silently,” she chuckles. “I pretty much told them that if you woke up, everybody would get a demerit, and the offender would get a detention. That kept them quiet.”

“Mel,” you sigh.

“You needed sleep.”

“I’m sorry I fell asleep on you guys last night,” you sigh as you take her mug out of her hands and take a sip. The coffee tastes perfect.

“You needed it. The others knew you needed it too, so they told me they would help wrangle the kids back to the classrooms for breakfast.”

“They knew?”

“They see the way we walk in here sometimes… after long nights,” the redhead clarifies. “I kind of had to tell them when I threatened that if anyone woke you up, there would be hell to pay.”

“Oh good god,” you mumble.

“Jacob already gave me an herbal tea recipe that supposedly helps with sleep, so we can try that tonight,” your wife rolls her eyes in good nature.

You nod and take another sip of her coffee. “Okay, let’s go deal with our kids.”

“Mr. J has it.”

“I don’t need Mr. J telling my kids that Illuminati runs the world,” you roll your eyes as you climb off the air mattress. The two you get into the room just as Mr. Johnson finishes writing the word.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[8:34 pm]

(cw: “shitty”, a bad date described vaguely)

You shifted from foot to foot waiting for the dial tone to finally connect to Johnny. You were grateful it was fresh compared to the heat of the day as you stood outside.

“Hello?”

“John, I need you to come pick me up,” you stated warily. You looked up at the street lamp, waiting to hear how your big brother was going to interrogate you now.

“It’s actually Jaehyun, John’s passed out-” Brother’s Best Friend!Jaehyun started.

Your face immediately heated up, your hand coming to rest on your forehead in shame and embarrassment, “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll call one of my friends to pick me up. Thank you Jaehyun.”

“It’s really no problem, I’m heading out the door right now. Text me your location and I’ll be right there,” you heard the jingle of the keys and sighed. You thanked him and quickly texted him your location which you were thankful wasn’t very far from his and John’s shared apartment.

This was not how your night was meant to go. Your friends had set you up with a guy that they had convinced you was a good match, a good opportunity to go out and get to know someone new. He was a friend of a friend and they had talked to him in passing, somehow he had found your social media and casually asked about you. You had no reason not to go, especially with all your friends convincing you, so you figured why not? They had spent a few hours getting ready and dropped you off at the restaurant where you now stood in front of, just out of view of the large window in front and the view of your date who had turned out to be so horrendous you were hiding out outside.

Now, you were embarrassed and anxious and even more nervous because Jaehyun, the guy you’ve had a crush on since you met him was picking you up. As if it could get any more cliche, he was your big brothers best friend who had been around since you were a kid when you’d stutter and shyly hide behind your mom anytime Jaehyun would come over. Unfortunately, the crush hadn’t gone away even the tiniest bit. Fortunately, you could now function like a proper human around him- just as long as you didn’t make eye contact for too long.

When you were able to make conversation, he didn’t talk to you like the annoying little sibling or just polite because his best friend was your older brother. He cared about your interests, asked about school, recommended music, and he even flirted with you sometimes, according to anyone who had ever seen the two of you have a conversation. Your parents and Johnny included. You could never deny how giddy that made you feel or the fact that after every conversation you had after you tried to flirt back a little bit.

His car pulled into a parking space a few feet away from you with the window rolling down to reveal Jaehyun peeking his head out. You hurried over to the passenger door, and slid into the seat before anyone could come out and see you escaping.

Jaehyun smiled widely at you, “You look nice.”

You laughed awkwardly, “Thank you and thank you again for coming to pick me up.”

“It’s no problem, hot date?”

You groaned, leaning your head back into the headrest, “He was awful Jaehyun! He was so vulgar and gross, I escaped when he went to the bathroom before I even had a chance to order my drinks. It shouldn’t even bother him because he was hitting on someone at the bar when I got here.”

Jaehyun tried to his his laugh with a cough and by clearing his throat, “Sorry, sorry. So what I’m hearing is you’re hungry?”

“No it’s alright, I can just get out of your hair for the night. I don’t want to be a problem for you,” you told him.

“You’re not a problem at all. I wasn’t doing anything anyway and going out with you is a better use of my time than waiting around for Johnny to wake up and ask why the pizza he never ordered isn’t there yet, so yes to dinner?” Jaehyun asked making sure to maintain eye contact.

You nodded wordlessly, your breath hitching as his hand came to the back of your head rest. He scanned for any cars behind him as he began reversing, turning the wheel with his open palm. His arm was out stretched and you couldn’t help following the sight up, up, up until it met his sharp jawline and outstretched neck. His cologne was warm and musky, with a hint of sweetness. It was intoxicating especially so close.

“You smell good,” you murmured into the quiet space of the car. You didn’t even realize you had been staring much less talking until Jaehyun cleared his throat and smirked at you before he straightened out the car. You were frozen in the passenger seat, unable to move or make any sounds, had you really just said that? Now you kind of wish you had stayed back at the restaurant and just stuck it out for a meal compared to the extremely awkward silence in the car now.

“Can you please take me home instead? You don’t have to offer because my brother’s your best friend and you feel obligated or anything,” You asked meekly.

“I’m not offering because Johnny’s my best friend, and you’re like my sibling, you’re more than that and you know it. I’m offering because you just had a shitty date and you deserve better when you look this good, and even when you don’t. You might as well show off a bit, so are you going to let me take you out or what?”

“Fine,” you sighed dramaically.

Jaehyun laughed, “I’m sorry me making up for your shitty date is such a chore. How about I just go ahead and turn around and you can tell that guy you had some really bad stomach bug or-”

“No!” You yelled, “No, no, just dinner with you is fine.”

“Well, I’d hope it’d be better than fine. I already let you ogle me and breathe in my scent from an inch away without complaining. And I mean really ogle, you staring at my neck really made me wonder if you were going to bite me like a vampire.”

“Jaehyun!” You whined, covering your face with your hands.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m absolutely flattered and I might just let you turn me if you can promise I’ll look as good as you after,” he smiled smugly. God, he was so cocky sometimes. You wished you could hate it if he just didn’t look so good as he punched his bottom lip with a smirk.

“Are you going to be this insufferable at dinner?”

His eyebrows rose, looking at you from his peripheral, “Why wouldn’t I flirt with my date?”

“Does my brother know you flirt with me like this?” You questioned in return.

Jaehyun shrugs nonchalantly, “I don’t think he’d care to hear about all the flirting we’ll get up to on our date when I finally sweep you off your feet completely. Plus, Johnny already knows I like you.”