#Workplace Romance

[watermelonshine]

EYES DON'T LIE

pe teacher!ellie x chemistry teacher!reader

cw : fluff 🎀

pe teacher!ellie who can't help but steal glances at the new chemistry teacher she shares the staff room with.

pe teacher!ellie who always look towards the door the moment she hears the sound of your heels coming through the hallway.

pe teacher!ellie who often notices the different shades of lipsticks you put on, the lipstick shades depends on your mood that morning.

pe teacher!ellie who wishes her shirt to be stained with your lipstick. or maybe even her neck.

pe teacher!ellie who was late once and came into the staff room to find you looking at her desk.

pe teacher!ellie who placed her bag on her table and saw you looking at her in relief.

"almost thought you wouldn't come today."

"nah... some fucker slashed my tyres so had change it, that's all."

"that sucks."

pe teacher!ellie who's mind goes crazy after holding a conversation with you for the first time ever since you came.

pe teacher!ellie who was surprised to see a bottle of apple juice on her table when she comes backs from her class.

pe teacher!ellie who almost jumped when she read the post it note attached to the juice bottle.

"saw you munching on apples everyday, thought you'd like this. sorry bout the tyres."

pe teacher!ellie who defended you when a student's parents blamed you for the bad grades their child got.

"maybe if your kid paid attention in class and didn't bunk it to skip time in the gymnasium, he would get good grades."

"how do you know if my child skips class or not?!"

pe teacher!ellie who had to be pulled away from the agitated parent by you after they insult you for "being too unqualified to teach" and that "a woman can't teach such a subject".

pe teacher!ellie who blushes and stammers like crazy when you hug her and thank her for standing up for you.

pe teacher!ellie who walks into your class before you and places a bottle of cherry juice on your table, with all the students gawking at her actions.

pe teacher!ellie and the new chemistry teacher who keep sharing things everyday, conversing through post-it notes.

notes : i love workplace romance so much if i ignore the consequences of a potential breakup

[jenosbliss]

✈️⌇ Beneath the Skies

pairing. flight attendant!reader x captain!jeno | genre. fluff, smut, slight angst | wc. 4k | requested. here | mdni!

warnings. fingering, nipple play, penetrative sex, protected sex (not mentioned but always play safe), lots and lots of kissing and jeno is the greenest flag ever

summary. you and jeno were walking on eggshells around the airline staff, limiting to subtle touches and lingering glances until you sneaked away from the prying eyes. Everything was fine until it wasn't as rumors spread faster than fire.

a/n. guys i love jeno! (ugly crying) anyways if you're uncomfortable with the smut portion you can skip it

The overhead announcement crackled through the cabin speakers, smooth and steady, delivered in a deep voice that always seemed to command attention without even trying.

“This is your captain speaking. We’re beginning our final descent into Osaka. Local time is 7:42 PM, and the weather is clear with a light breeze. We’ll have you on the ground shortly. Thank you for flying with us.”

Jeno’s voice.

You pressed your lips together to suppress a smile as you walked down the aisle of the aircraft, your polished heels clicking softly against the floor. As always, his words sparked a ripple of excitement across the cabin. You could practically see the passengers—and some of the other flight attendants—swooning as they tilted their heads toward the speakers.

“Captain Lee Jeno sounds like he should be in a movie,” whispered one of your colleagues, Sara, as she leaned in close to you near the galley.

You gave her a polite smile, hoping it wasn’t too forced. “Yeah, I guess he has one of those voices.”

One of those voices, and one of those faces. And one of those personalities that made your heart ache with an almost unbearable tenderness every time you thought about him. Which was too often.

Sara sighed dreamily. “Seriously, isn’t it unfair? He’s so good-looking and he’s a pilot. He’s the whole package.”

You glanced down at the tray of drinks you were holding, focusing on steadying your hands. “Yeah,” you said softly, unable to resist the flicker of warmth spreading in your chest. “The whole package.”

Sara didn’t notice the way your lips curved slightly or the way your voice softened. No one did. That was the point.

At work, you and Jeno were just coworkers. You had to be.

The first time you met him, you’d been a bundle of nerves, fumbling with your flight manual on your first day as a flight attendant. He had stopped you in the hallway leading to the crew briefing room, his white captain’s uniform crisp and impossibly neat. His voice had been calm and reassuring as he asked if you needed help, and his smile had been so genuine that your tension had melted away in an instant.

Since then, you and Jeno had become… close. Closer than you ever thought possible.

Somehow, between the endless flights, layovers in strange cities, and the long hours spent together in cramped crew lounges, he had become more than just your captain. He had become your anchor.

When turbulence hit—both in the air and in your life—Jeno was always steady. Always there.

But no one could know.

Not when you worked for an airline that prided itself on professionalism and strict boundaries between coworkers. Not when the rumor mill among the crew could destroy someone’s reputation in a heartbeat.

And so, you kept it quiet. Stolen glances in the cockpit. Soft, lingering touches when no one was looking. Conversations that stretched late into the night during layovers, when the rest of the crew was asleep and it felt like the world was just the two of you.

It was enough. Most of the time.

You stood near the exit as the passengers began filing off the plane, bowing and thanking them with a practiced smile. Jeno stood just a few feet away, his tall frame commanding and composed in his uniform.

You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, even as he greeted the passengers with the same professional smile you wore.

When the last passenger exited, Sara let out a dramatic sigh, leaning against the cabin wall. “Okay, I’m officially done for today. That flight was too long. Who’s up for drinks tonight?”

“I think I’ll pass,” you said quickly, unbuckling the thin scarf around your neck and folding it neatly. You glanced at Jeno out of the corner of your eye. His lips twitched in amusement, but he said nothing.

“Boring,” Sara teased. “You’re always skipping out on crew hangouts. It’s like you have a secret life or something.”

You laughed lightly, brushing off her comment. “Just tired, that’s all.”

It wasn’t a lie. You were tired—tired of pretending you didn’t notice the way your heart raced every time Jeno’s hand accidentally brushed yours, tired of hiding what you really wanted.

Jeno caught your eye as you both stepped off the aircraft, and for a moment, it felt like the world paused. His gaze was soft, full of something unspoken, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

The night in Osaka had started innocently enough.

The hotel room was larger than usual, the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the space as Jeno leaned against the dresser, his arms crossed over his chest. His tie was already loosened, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, and you couldn’t help but notice how unfairly good he looked. Relaxed. Comfortable.

The kind of comfort he only ever showed you.

“You didn’t have to come in here, you know,” he said, though the teasing lilt in his voice gave him away.

You rolled your eyes, sinking onto the edge of the bed as you kicked off your heels. “I wanted to.” That much was true. You weren’t ready to say goodnight to him yet—not after a flight full of stolen glances and moments that had left your chest tight with longing.

Jeno’s smile softened as he walked over to you, kneeling so he was eye level with where you sat on the edge of the bed. “Long day?”

You nodded, letting out a soft sigh as you leaned back on your hands. “Yeah. But this is the best part of it.” He tilted his head, his eyes searching yours. “What is?”

“Being here,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “With you.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavier than they should have been. Jeno’s gaze darkened, his jaw clenching slightly as if he was holding himself back from saying—or doing—something.

“Sometimes I think this is all we’ll ever get,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “These moments when no one’s watching.” Jeno reached out, his fingers brushing against yours in a gesture so light it sent shivers up your spine. “Maybe that’s all we need.”

You shook your head, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he said, his voice firm. “If it means I get to be with you, even if it’s just like this… I’ll take it.” Your chest tightened, the weight of his words settling deep in your heart. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek, and he leaned into your touch without hesitation.

“Jeno…”

Whatever you were going to say next was forgotten as he leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. His breath was warm against your skin, his proximity dizzying.

“You drive me crazy,” he murmured, his voice rough around the edges. “Every single time I see you, all I want to do is—”

He cut himself off, his hand coming up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheekbone. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut as his forehead pressed more firmly against yours.

“Jeno,” you whispered, your voice trembling. That was all it took.

He closed the distance between you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was as much a question as it was an answer. It was soft at first, hesitant, like he was afraid to push too far. But when you tilted your head, your hands curling into the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer, the tension between you snapped like a rubber band.

The kiss deepened, growing hungrier, more desperate, as the weight of every unspoken feeling between you spilled over. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer, and you lost yourself in the way he felt—warm, solid, grounding in a way nothing else ever was.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, his forehead dropped against yours once again, his breath warm against your skin.

“I meant what I said,” he whispered, his voice unsteady. “I don’t care where we are or who’s watching. All I want is you.”

Your heart felt like it might burst as you reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back down for another kiss.

The kiss was passionate as if Jeno tried to convey everything he felt for you through it. His thumb ran over your cheekbone in a soothing manner while his other hand slid under your dress shirt feeling the warmth of your skin under his.

When he broke the kiss, his lips trailed a wet path from the corner of your lips to the base of your neck. His grip on your waist became rough as he pulled you even closer while he kissed over your collarbone slowly as his lips found their way back to yours where he whispered “I need you.”

Your breath hitched slightly when he gently tugged at your shirt and all you could manage was a gentle nod. “You are going to be the death of me.” he whispered against your lips before pulling you into another soft kiss, his fingers undoing the buttons of your shirt with practiced ease.

Everything Jeno did always made your heart flutter. It wasn’t the first time you were being intimate with him, you have lost count on how many times both of you had shared a kiss and it led to this… both of you craving each other but that never stopped him from asking for your permission, even if he knew the answer. He didn’t have to ask but he did and this made you fall for him deeper and deeper.

Soon your clothes were on the carpeted floor, he had guided you to lay down on the mattress as he moved above you, his hands gently moving up and down your sides while his teeth lightly bit down on your neck making you moan. He licked over the same spot and moved to the other side of your neck repeating his actions.

“You’re beautiful.” he said, trailing his lips down to your chest and between your breasts, sucking and gently biting down on the skin there. He loved marking you up not because he wanted to assert his possession over you but he did so that whenever you look at them you can remember how much he wants you, needs you, loves you. He wants you to remember the words he whispers while he is making love to you, remember the nights of passion and just remember him.

His hands moved to where you needed him the most as he licked your nipples before taking them in his mouth making you arch your back. “Jeno” you whimpered, holding onto his bicep. “Fuck you’re so wet” he said running his fingers along your folds as he peppered wet kisses around your breasts.

He pushed one of his fingers between your folds and rubbed over your clit with his thumb all the while sucking on one of your boobs and fondling the other with his free hand. The simultaneous pleasure sent you moaning loudly and as if he sensed your need he added another finger increasing the pace. “Jeno please…” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pushed him further down on your chest.

He let go of your nipple with one final kiss as he whispered “Use your words baby.” looking at you while he continued to move his fingers inside you at an almost relentless pace all the while rubbing at your clit. He knew what you wanted and also how far he could push you. “Tell me what you want.”

“You! I want you please.” you begged, reaching out for his hand. Every constraint he had was slipping by, he intertwined his fingers with yours and brought your hand to place gentle kisses on your knuckles. “Come on my fingers first? I don’t want to hurt you baby.”

With this said he curled his fingers inside you and rubbed at that spot making you throw your head back as your eyes rolled up. He cradled your face with his other hand and kissed down on your neck once again. “Does it feel good?” he asked and you could only manage to moan at the way his fingers were stretching you out. “I am close Jeno” you whimpered.

“Let it go. Come for me baby.” and as if you were waiting for his permission you came on his fingers moaning his name. He continued to move his fingers through your oragasm prolonging it. Fuck you loved sex with him.

“Do you want more? Or we can do it later.” He wiped the sweat on your forehead gently as he placed a lingering kiss over there. “You need a release too” you whispered looking at how hard he was under his boxers. He followed your gaze and chuckled, cupping your face in his hands as he leaned down to softly kiss your lips “Don’t worry about me, tell me what you want.”

Could he make you love him even more? You smiled back and rested your hand over his “I want you Jeno in every way possible. I want everything you’re willing to give me and everything we can be behind these closed doors.” you promised.

The promise held a thousand unsaid words and Jeno took a moment to just gaze in your eyes with the same desperation and helplessness before he kissed you again but this time it was gentler and slow. It was passionate but not quick and rough.

When he carefully and slowly slid inside you his eyes not once left yours, when he brought your intertwined hands to his lips again he closed his eyes to savour the feeling of your skin against his lips. He looked at you with an intensity that made your cheeks burn but you knew he was just memorizing you for all the time he would spend pretending he isn’t in love with you.

“You’re my heaven.” He groaned at the feeling of your warm walls taking him in as he moved, quickening his pace. “Fuck you feel so good.” he pressed his hand over your stomach slowly pushing you over the edge as you arched your back crying out his name.

His thrusts became faster and he wrapped his arms around your thighs pulling you closer, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. “Jeno… I-” you almost screamed at a particular hard thrust. “Does it hurt?” he asked, slowing his pace as he looked down at you concerned. You whined “No no, it feels so good… Please don't stop”

“I just want to make you feel good.” he leaned down to kiss you, drinking up your moans and soft whimpers as he once again increased his speed. His thumb reached down to rub on your clit adding to the pleasure and once again you found yourself close. And Jeno felt it too with the way you clenched around his length or how your grip on his back tightened and he pushed into you with more force and pressure.

You also felt him getting closer with his thrusts becoming erratic and sloppier. He bit down on your lip as he moaned, his fingers digging in your skin. “You are close?” he asked, pulling you closer. “Yes, yes- fuck Jeno” you moaned as he brushed against that spot making you see white. It might have been an involuntary response but the way you squeezed on him in response made him reach his high too and he came undone with a loud groan “Fuck baby… fuck”

He didn’t stop and fucked you both through the orgasms making you writhle under him due to oversensitivity. He smiled seeing you like that under him and slowed down his movements before pulling himself out and lying down next to you. “It was amazing.” He commented, breathing heavily.

You smiled wrapping your arm around his torso as he pulled you closer “It is always amazing with you.” He chuckled his chest rumbling with the sound as he placed a kiss on top of your head. “I am glad.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence comfortable. Jeno reached out instinctively, tucking a strand behind your ear. His eyes studied your face for a moment and he noticed your distant expression.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. You swallowed hard, looking down at your hand which was playing with his fingers. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because I know you,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “And I can tell when something’s bothering you.” You hesitated, the words caught in your throat. Jeno waited patiently, his dark eyes watching you with a tenderness that made you want to fall apart.

“It’s my family,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “They don’t… They’ve never really treated me the same as my siblings. No matter what I do, it’s never enough. I’m never enough.”

Jeno’s jaw tightened, and you saw the flash of anger in his eyes—not at you, but for you. “That’s not true,” he said, his voice steady. “You’re more than enough. You’re…” He paused, his brows furrowing as he searched for the right words. “You’re kind and hardworking and amazing at what you do. And anyone who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve you.”

Your throat tightened, and tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “Jeno…”

He reached out, his hand moving under your chin to make you look at him. His touch was warm, grounding, and you clung to it like a lifeline.

“You don’t have to be perfect for anyone,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “Not your family, not anyone. Just… be you. That’s all I need.”

And when you ended up tangled together on the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around you, it felt like everything you’d been missing had finally fallen into place.

The next morning had been quiet between you, the comfort of his presence lingering as you shared a knowing smile before slipping out of his room. You’d thought you’d gone unnoticed.

You were wrong.

That morning, you’d heard the first murmurs: how you’d gone into Captain Lee’s room at the end of the night, how you’d been in there for hours.

They didn’t know what had happened. They didn’t need to. The damage was already done.

The rumors… they are subtle at first. Whispers in the break room, sideways glances from coworkers. But it doesn’t take long before you realize the truth: the two of you are the talk of the airline. Someone saw you leave the cockpit together. Someone noticed the way you look at each other during every briefing. And before you know it, the whispers turn into gossip, and the gossip turns into questions. The not-so-subtle questions about how you got your position and whether you’d been “using” Jeno to get ahead.

It hurt more than you expected.

Some of your colleagues, mostly the women, start acting strange around you. The sidelong glances, the not-so-innocent comments—it all builds, the pressure growing heavier by the hour.

“You and Captain Lee,” Sara says with a smirk as she hands you a coffee during a layover. “He’s such a charmer, isn’t he?”

You force a smile, but inside, you’re screaming. You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions, and the constant barrage of questions is slowly starting to crack your resolve.

Another colleague, this time a more direct one, doesn’t hold back. “Is it true? Are you two dating? I mean, it’s not like you can keep a secret around here.”

You feel your face flush, the weight of the question sinking in. “No,” you say quickly, but even you can hear the uncertainty in your voice. “We’re just... friends. Coworkers.”

But as the days pass, the questions don’t stop. And neither does the growing realization that your coworkers have already decided the truth that you slept your way up, and it’s nothing like what you’ve claimed.

The hardest part isn’t the gossip itself—it’s the way you feel when you realize that none of them see you as anything more than an object of their curiosity. The whispers of your coworkers, the rumors spreading like wildfire—it’s too much. It feels like everyone is watching, waiting for you to break.

But Jeno...

Jeno is there.

He’s always there.

You know he’s been feeling the tension too, the way he’s been watching you during flights, how his hand brushes against yours a little longer than necessary when handing you paperwork. You see the glint in his eyes, the quiet understanding of how hard it’s becoming for both of you.

And then, one evening after a particularly grueling flight, when the weight of it all is almost too much to bear, Jeno finds you crying in the staff lounge one day, you couldn’t hide it anymore. “I know what they’re saying,” he says quietly, as if reading your mind.

“Talk to me please, don’t shut me out.” he said, kneeling in front of you and gently tilting your chin up so you had to meet his eyes.

You broke.

“It’s the others,” you admitted, tears streaming down your face. “They think… they think I’m only here because of you. That I’m not good enough to do this on my own and I earned this position by sleeping with you.”

Jeno’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he processed your words. “That’s not true,” he said fiercely. “You’re one of the best flight attendants I’ve ever worked with, and you earned your place here. Don’t let them take that away from you.”

His words made something inside you crack wide open. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” you whispered. Jeno’s hands tightened around yours. “Yes, you can. And you’re not alone. I’m here, okay? I’m with you.”

“I hate… hiding,” you said, your voice trembling. “I hate feeling like I have to apologize for being with you. Like I’m doing something wrong.”

Jeno reached out, his hands settling on your shoulders as he pulled you closer. “You’re not doing anything wrong,” he said firmly. “And you don’t have to apologize for anything. Not to me, not to anyone.”

Your throat tightened, and tears pricked at your eyes again as you looked up at him. “But it’s not just me. They’re saying things about you, too. About how you—”

“Stop,” he said gently, his hands sliding down to take yours. “Let them say whatever they want. None of it matters. What matters is us.”

His words wrapped around you like a shield, and for the first time in days, you felt like you could breathe again.

Despite the whispers and the tension, you held your head high. And Jeno was with you every step of the way, his quiet support and unwavering belief in you giving you the strength to keep going.

And when he held your hand during a layover in Paris, walking with you along the Seine as the city lights reflected in the water, it felt like all the pieces of your world were finally falling into place.

“You’re my favorite co-worker,” he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes. You laughed, your cheeks flushing as you leaned into him. “You’re so cheesy.”

“Only for you,” he said, his voice dropping to a soft, serious tone. He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. The city seemed to fade away as he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks.

“I love you,” he said, the words spilling out like a promise. “And I don’t care who knows it or what they think of it.” Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn’t speak. But then you smiled, your heart swelling with so much emotion you thought it might burst.

“I love you too,” you whispered.

And when he kissed you, it felt like the beginning of something new—something that was entirely yours. No matter what anyone else thought, no matter what challenges lay ahead, you knew one thing for certain:

With Jeno by your side, the skies were always clear

navigation.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

[lovinglylotte]

★ | DIE FOR YOU || park sunghoon x fem!reader

❥ completed

synopsis: being part of enhypen is fun and never boring. but being the only girl gets you the princess treatment and the brother treatment at the same time.

pairings: park sunghoon x fem!reader, choi soobin x fem!reader (rumors), ot7 x fem!reader (rumors)

genre: smau, idol au, 8th member au, slow burn, workplace romance, crack, fluff, angst

warnings: hate comments, death threats, profanity, knetz being asses, inappropriate jokes

➸ NEVER LEAVE XX ➸ others

❥ chapters

01: down bad

02: sunoo is my fave

03: crashing out

04: no more compliments?!

05: stole y/n

06: introverted self

07: valentine’s day

08: destined lovers

09: you were good

10: tell me now

11: bagged a baddie

12: fighting for his life

13: MY gf

14: exposed

15: oops… i accidentally posted

16: him and i

17: loml

[haikyu-mp4]

Get to know you

Fluffy workplace romance working for the MSBY Black Jackals with your crush Sakusa, for my workplace romance event <3

requested by @act-nat-ural. word count; 1319 – f!reader

“Hi, Sakusa!” you greeted, voice way sweeter than when you greeted any of the other players who arrived that morning. Sakusa nodded his head once in greeting before heading to the wardrobe, leaving you to cover your face with your hands and groan in defeat.

Having a huge, obvious crush on Sakusa Kiyoomi was already hell, but actually acting on it and trying to both gain his attention and act cool about it, that was even worse.

You’re an assistant manager for MSBY, always ready with their water bottles, towels and a thorough review of their game stats. For any events, you were there as well, doing your best to predict their needs.

Atsumu patted your shoulder. “That’s just Omi for ya, don’t mind him.”

You pouted, getting out your notepad to ready it for today’s notes. “I would think less of him if I could,” you mumbled, making the rusty wheels in Atsumu’s head start turning.

Ohh… our manager has a crush!

On the way to the press event, you were squished in the middle seat between Hinata and Sakusa, gnawing at your lips as if that would make you any less nervous.

As you neared the location, you fumbled around in your purse for something while Hinata loudly practised his manuscript. Just as Sakusa was about to turn to you and ask for something, you held your hand out with a small bottle of unscented sanitiser. The kind that was all flat and could fit in his blazer pocket.

He looked up in surprise, silently meeting your eyes with a grateful nod. Instead of holding his hands out, he took the bottle from you and distributed it himself before sneaking it into his pocket.

While he rubbed his hands together, your attention was drawn back to the shorter player who asked you for some details.

It might have been your delusions, but it seemed like Sakusa stuck around you while inside the event building, sighing in relief when you had brought an extra mask for him just in case.

It even earned you a spoken, “You’re a lifesaver.”

After a division game finished in a victory for the Jackals, you ecstatically handed out bottles and towels, doing your best to praise all the players on their individual performance.

You were about to turn to Inunaki when someone stumbled into you, a flurry of awkward limbs and curly hair. Sakusa held your shoulders to steady himself, grumbling an apology and childishly accusing Miya of pushing him.

You smiled nervously before looking to the side so he wouldn’t notice your blush. “Don’t worry. And your spikes were amazing today, Sakusa. Good job.”

Sakusa eyed you for a second before stepping away, throwing a “Thank you, y/n” over his shoulder as he moved along with the rest of the team. 

He said your name.

On the last practice of the week, before you would all have a week off for autumn break, you were surprised to find a cup of coffee sitting on the bench where you usually sat. You blinked at it for a second before asking the coach if it was his, holding it up to him and feeling it was still warm.

“It has your name on it,” the coach said, making you turn the cup in surprise only to find he was right. Your name was written on the back in cursive, with a little smiley at the end.

Looking around, you checked to see if anyone was waiting for you to acknowledge them, but no one was. All the players had lined up for warm-ups led by Meian, so you left the mystery for another time.

Unexpectedly, he added, “Someone already filled the first round of bottles as well, so you can just take a rest until they start the drills.”

It made you stutter, unsure if this might be some test to see if you were still motivated enough for the job, but the coach’s smile made you agree and sit down. You silently drank the coffee and watched the players until you finally had to get to work, and the empty cup was tucked away in your bag.

If only you dared look at Sakusa, who was staring from the corner with a small smile on his face, happy you could take a breather before running around to cater for them all day.

He wondered if that one was actually your favourite coffee, or if you just got it because it was cheaper. He wondered if you liked going to cafes and if you had other hobbies. He wondered if you knew how to cook and what season of the year you liked most.

Sakusa found himself to be very… interested in you.

You were dressed in the most gorgeous dress you could find, in a colour you loved and with your most shiny necklace locked around your neck. To say the least, you felt exquisite.

However, your hands were anxiously fiddling with the fabric. It’s a Christmas party, reserved only for the team and their staff. The players were dressed up in suits and you were pretty sure everyone had noticed by now how your eyes trailed after Sakusa.

It should be illegal to look that good.

You jumped as a figure dropped onto the chair beside you. “Is that drool on your chin?” he teased, pointing to the side of his own mouth with a wolfish grin. You punched his shoulder loosely, but your other hand was still raised to check for any drool.

It made the setter laugh heartily, and you shielded your face from everyone as they turned to look. “Atsumu,” you groaned. “Shouldn’t you be embarrassing yourself on the dance floor by now?”

“Ha, ha.” The man settled into the chair, and you eventually turned to look at him properly. He almost forgot what he was supposed to say, not used to seeing you so dolled up. You looked amazing. “I suppose you don’t want to hear my plan to get you and Sakusa together, then.”

“Hardly,” you agreed. “But I bet you’ll tell me anyway.”

An arm rested across the back of your chair and the setter leaned closer. “Right you are. Now, the DJ has been instructed to play a slow song next, and you will ask dear grumpy to dance.”

You looked at him wide-eyed before your gaze automatically moved to the grumpy in question. “I can’t just do that. Have you seen him today?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Him? Look at you.”

You had to give it to Atsumu. He got you dancing with Sakusa, arms resting around his neck while you did your best not to step on his feet. His hands were firm on your waist, but his dancing was stiff.

Make the most of it, you decide. Taking a deep breath, you finally look up at Sakusa to find him staring at you with an unusual flush painted upon his cheeks.

“Are you okay, Sakusa?”

“Kiyoomi.” You raised your eyebrows, making him carefully clear his throat. “You can call me Kiyoomi.”

“Kiyoomi.” Your heart skipped a beat when his face responded by growing even warmer as you repeated his name. “Are you having a good time?”

“A little embarrassed you asked me before I could ask you, but at least we got to dance.”

You let out a small gasp as he twirled you, making you smile even more. “Do you like dancing?” you asked him as he pulled you back to his chest, seeming to loosen up more in his movements.

“Not particularly. But I think I like you.”

And to say the butterflies fluttered in your stomach would be an understatement. “I think I like you too.”

Your eyes spoke a thousand words that night, fluttering lashes and soft looks coming together to tell the other how you felt. I would like to get to know you more.

masterlist

[foulwitchknight]

Music teacher Eddie kind of gave up on ever mating. He’s happy with his life and is content being alone. Plus no one’s ever truly caught his attention anyway. Enter Steve a gorgeous young kindergarten teacher who smells divine. Eddie can’t help but be wildly attracted to him but tries really hard to hide it by keeping his distance. He doesn’t think he could compete with the younger alphas whose been vying for Steve's attention since he started anyway. However, when Steve starts flirting, subtly asking him out and scenting him, Eddie can feel his self-control quickly evaporating. Its becoming harder not to bite Steve and make him his with each passing day.

[daxisyzz]

⁺‧˚ ⋆ 𝐁𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥 | 𝒃𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒔 ⋆ ˚‧⁺

𝐄𝐩. 𝐈: 𝐀 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

Pairings: ceo!boss!bucky barnes × fem!reader

Other characters: bestfriend!Natasha romanoff

Contents: fake dating, chaotic relationship dynamic, workplace romance, contract relationship.

Summary: To help your best friend dodge an arranged blind date, you go in her place, prepared to sabotage it. But when your date turns out to be James Buchanan Barnes—your cold, terrifying CEO—your entire world turns upside down. Instead of being horrified by your over-the-top antics, Bucky leans back and smirks, saying, “You’ll do.”

Word count: 1k+

Series masterlist Episode 2

Inspired by the kdrama "Business Proposal"

"I'm not sure." You glance toward your friend, Natasha, with an almost hesitant look.

"Come on, [Name], just this once," she urges.

The idea Natasha presents sounds ridiculous—who would pose as their best friend on a blind date just to scare away a guy? This isn’t a normal day by any means.

"Nat, I love you, a lot actually, but this is just crazy," you protest.

"What are you saying? It's going to be so damn funny watching the horror on his face," Natasha snickers.

"Please save me from going on this date. My dad won’t listen to me," she begs.

You raise an eyebrow. "You can’t just tell him no?"

She groans, running a hand down her face. "I have. He doesn’t care. He thinks this guy is my perfect match and keeps setting up these ridiculous dates. If I back out, he’ll just schedule another one. You’re my only hope."

Your lip twitches slightly upward. The idea of acting completely unhinged to scare away her blind date suddenly doesn’t seem too bad.

"What do I get out of this?" You narrow your eyes at her.

"You’ll be helping out your girl.. ok I'll take you out for shopping." She offers.

"Um… I'll think about it."

That’s how you end up here, in a high-end restaurant, dressed in your “only for special occasions” outfit, complete with a red wig and outrageously heavy makeup, transforming you into the character of a ridiculous script. You’re busy typing updates to Natasha on your phone when someone calls out her name.

Standing behind you is a six-foot Adonis of a man, clad in a tailored suit that screams elegance—the grandson of the man you work for. As just announced, you are now in front of your new CEO, James Buchanan Barnes.

Your entire body freezes. The words and plans you meticulously crafted vanish from your mind. I'm gonna lose my job, goes through your mind.

"Ms. Romanoff, it's nice to meet you," he says, extending his hand. You hesitantly shake it.

"Please, sit," he adds, and you take your seat, feeling the awkward tension rise.

This can’t be happening. You spent years climbing the ranks at this company, staying late, working through weekends, proving yourself. And now, all of that is about to go up in flames because of one stupid favor.

Bucky sits down, already planning how to end this date as fast as possible. He has no intention of dating anyone—he’s focused on steering the company in a new direction now that he’s CEO. His grandfather forced him into this blind date, determined to see his only grandson married and settled. He can't turn down his grandfather's wishes; he loves him, after all. So here he is, glancing at his watch and counting the minutes until an appropriate time to leave.

You blink in disbelief. Natasha better be the most grateful person in the world for this.

"I'm going to get to the point, Ms. Romanoff—" Bucky begins, but you interrupt him.

"Nuh-uh, I gotta take this call, Mr. Barnes," you declare, slipping away before he can say another word.

The moment you step away, you put on your most sickly-sweet voice. "Heyy! Boo, how’s my baby doing?" You practically purr into the phone, glancing at Bucky to gauge his reaction. Nothing. Not even an eye twitch.

Time to up the act.

"You know I can’t keep my hands off you," you coo, adding a breathy giggle for good measure. "Last night was insane."

Bucky rubs his temples. You swear you see his jaw flex slightly. A reaction. Finally.

You return to the table with a smug little smirk, twirling your hair as you eye him up and down, intent on making him uncomfortable.

"That was one of the guys on my roster—so, where were we?" you purr, a hint of manic glee slipping into your tone.

Bucky starts to speak, but you abruptly turn and call for the waiter to order some food. You sip on an expensive drink that’s been presented to you, checking over your manicure.

"Honestly, Bucky, do you ever get tired of being so proper?" you snap, your voice shifting to an unhinged whisper that barely conceals wild amusement. "I mean, look at you—so prim, so boring. Doesn’t it ever tickle you to see someone push the limits?"

Bucky arches an eyebrow, a low-key, amused smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I must say, Ms. Romanoff, you are different from what I expected," he replies coolly, his tone laced with restrained amusement.

"Well, gotta keep them on their toes, right?" you say, faking an exaggerated laugh.

You keep your ramble going, trying your hardest to break the guy and make him leave right this moment, but he does not budge at all. He’s actually enjoying this—a lot—contrary to his earlier mood.

Feeling done with entertaining him, you pull out your most treasured weapon.

"Mr. Barnes, how could I forget to introduce you to my babies—Samantha and Rachel?"

He raises an eyebrow in a questioning stare as you lean forward, pushing up your chest. You beckon him forward with your finger.

"The left one is Samantha, and the right one is Rachel. I spent a whopping 50k dollars on these babies," you giggle, giving him a wink. He chokes on his drink, eyes widening as he stares at your grinning face. And, as you least expect it, he lets out a laugh, a real, amused one.

The chatter of the restaurant fades as you lean back in your chair, eyes locked on him. Across the table, James Buchanan Barnes—your cold, calculating CEO—studies you with an amused, almost bemused expression. The clink of cutlery and soft background music melt away, leaving only the tension between your unhinged energy and his quiet, calculated amusement.

"You’ll do," he states, confusing you for a second.

"What do you mean?" you ask, not understanding.

"Your father has been a good friend of my grandfather, and I like where this date is going. I'd like to schedule another date with you."

"Huh?" you let out. "What do you mean? You can’t do this. You know I have three other men going out with me this week—I can't do this."

"It’s fine with me. I'll talk with my secretary to arrange another date. I like you and would like to pursue this," he says, getting up with a smirk on his face. "Give my regards to your father." He turns away and walks out of the restaurant.

Left alone at the table, you exhale sharply, a mix of panic and exasperation washing over you. You quickly text Natasha, urging her to call immediately. "Call me, it's urgent," you type as you sit there, wondering exactly what you got yourself into.

A/n: You know I had to bring in Samantha and Rachel. They are icons..iykyk.

I've had this series in my mind for a long time. Lemme know your thoughts on it. <3

☆[Follow the tag ⁺‧˚ ⋆Business Proposal⋆ ˚‧⁺ for updates]☆

[021894s]

SIMS ANATOMY - JAKE SIM

COMING JULY, 24 @ 6 PM PST

SYNOPSIS: you, a top cardiac surgeon, find yourself increasingly frustrated by the distraction over the hospital’s new head of neurosurgery, Dr. Jake Sim. Despite your initial annoyance, you can't help but notice Jake's charm and undeniable skills. As you keep running into each other, Jake’s persistent yet respectful flirtations begin to break through your professional exterior.

PAIRING: neurosurgeon! jake x cardio surgeon! reader

GENRE: workplace romance, situationship

WARNINGS: explicit smut, unprotected sex (don’t), oral (m and f receiving), angst, language, MDNI!!

wc: currently at 4k

TAGLIST IS CLOSED

[purposechef]

❤️ thank you for all the love since i started drawing these two emotionally stunted chefs. ❤️ i gotta go on an indefinite hiatus but all your kind comments and messages have meant so much to me and honestly, have encouraged me to be creative again after a long period where i simply wasn't. i really can't thank you all enough!

[hairmetal666]

Eddie Munson gets famous at fifteen, after a YouTube video goes viral.

He's the kind of famous where he can't leave his house without being mobbed; where his name is plastered across grocery store tabloids and every fifth Pop Crave post; who has to make special arrangements with stores, whose body guards have body guards, who's forgotten what it's like to be normal. He's the kind of famous with well-chronicled stints in and out of rehab

And he thinks, at thirty, why not do a reality show? Why not let everyone in the world into his life because they're there anyway?

There's this guy on the crew, beautiful as a fucking sunrise. He's all golden-tanned and chestnut-haired, with these big hazel eyes that makes Eddie stomach swoop deliciously whenever they happen to meet his.

His name is Steve.

And Eddie, well. He's learned his lesson about jumping into relationships. So, Steve is nice to look at, and that's all there is to it.

---

They're at the studio, and Eddie, he only smokes when he's recording but he's "not allowed" to do that inside. So, he steps out into the alley behind the building, eyes falling shut as he hands search his pockets for his pack of Camels and his Zippo.

"I didn't realize you smoked," a deep voice says from the darkness.

Eddie startles, eyes flying open. Steve is leaning against the brick of the building, cigarette perched between his pursed lips.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. I'm Steve. With the crew."

"Eddie," he answers by instinct.

"I know," Steve chuckles. His hazel eyes are golden in the yellow streetlight.

"Oh, right." He lights his cigarette and inhales deep.

"I really like what you're doing in there." Steve nods his head towards the studio.

"You a fan?"

"Never listened to you much before. Not really a metal kinda guy, but I like it."

People aren't usually honest with Eddie. It's refreshing.

"Glad you're getting into it! How's your--uh, job going?"

Steve laughs. "First assistant camera, that's my job." Eddie's expression must read a total blank, but Steve only smiles. "I make sure everything's in focus while we film"

"Is that--hard?"

"Sometimes," Steve agrees. "How do you like being the star of a reality show?"

Eddie huffs out a breath. "It's more fun than I expected. Like, sure it's weird to have you guys follow me around, but at least I invited you, you know?"

Steve's dark eyes are fathomless in his perfect face. "You'll let me know? If anything happens that you don't like?"

Eddie nods, taken aback by the serious line of Steve's pretty mouth. Before he can respond more, the back door creaks open, Gareth's backlit shape leaning into the alley. "Eddie? They're ready for you."

"Duty calls." He smiles at Steve as he stomps out his cigarette. "See you around."

---

Eddie goes to a house party in the hills. It's just a handful of people, all of them he's known for years, no cameras in sight.

Someone asks how things are going with the band. Eddie doesn't think anything of it. Why should he, among friends? Why should he when they already know the resentment that Gareth, Jeff, and Freak have for him? Eddie got signed and not his band. The guys--they never really forgave him, think he could have tried harder.

So, he says--he says--"I wish they didn't resent me so goddamn much still. To this day! They're millionaires and they're pissed at me? Fuck that. I got them here. I got us all here."

They're filming the next day at Eddie's house. He's working on a new song, engrossed in his acoustic and his notebook.

He's so in the zone, it takes him a second to register when Gareth bursts into the house.

"Fuck you, Munson," Gareth screams. "What the fuck is this shit?" Eddie's own voice pours from Gareth's phone, and Eddie's stunned speechless for dozens of seconds as he tries to comprehend what's happening.

"I didn't--" he tires. He raises his hands placatingly, but his minds a whirlwind, thoughts a tangle, heart a mess of betrayal and hurt and fear.

"We should be fucking grateful?" Gareth yells. "You spoiled piece of shit, fuck you!" He lunges towards Eddie, but Steve darts from behind the camera, moving to block Gareth's path.

"Stop filming," Eddie shouts. He lifts his arms to block the shit. "Get out," he snaps at the crew. " Now!"

He and Gareth scuffle towards a set of double-doors, heated words low and unintelligible.

"Don't come in." He tells the crew. "Steve, I mean it. Tell them to stop."

Eddie shoves Gareth into the other room, slamming the door behind him. Still, the mics pick up the screaming fight between the two men.

Hours later, Eddie finally makes his way back to the main part of the house, finds Steve standing at the kitchen island.

"Why are you still here?" He's too exhausted from the fight to put any inflection into it.

"I was wo--I wanted to make sure everything was okay," Steve says. He relaxes against the island. "Are yo--is everything okay?"

Eddie's laugh is humorless. "Something like that."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

The tears he kept at bay with Gareth prick at his eyelids until they burn. "Not really, no."

Steve nods. "We could--you wanna watch a movie?"

This startles a laugh out of Eddie, one that has tears flooding his eyes and he has to blink fast, look down, anything so Steve doesn't notice.

"You know what I want?" he says. It's soft enough that maybe Steve, across the kitchen, wouldn't hear.

"What?"

"To have friends who won't sell me out for a couple thousand bucks." The tears start falling, his throat choked with emotion.

He wants to stop, embarrassed to be crying in front of Steve, but now that he's started, sobs shake his shoulders and he can't keep quiet.

Steve reaches for him. "Is this okay?" he whispers, hands rubbing circles against his back.

Eddie nods, cries for a while as Steve makes soothing motions against his back.

"I just wish I was normal," he mumbles when he has words again.

Steve's hold on him tightens. "I'm sorry, Eddie."

Shame hits him then, too hard to ignore, and he steps away. "I'm gonna--I'm gonna go. I--Thanks again."

He ignores the sound of Steve calling him back.

---

Eddie's playing a show. He's playing a show in a small club, something he hasn't been able to do for years, but he's doing it right now. It's electric, vibrating through his body, the crowd screaming along with every word.

So much of this is because of Steve, and Eddie can't think about it, because men like Steve aren't for guys like Eddie.

As he plays, his eyes scan the small crowd, find Steve easily. He's gazing at Eddie, lips slicked pink and parted, eyes shining. Eddie knows this look; the naked desire obvious. A heat he never lets himself feel for Steve blooms low in his abdomen, but--

He wails into his mic, forcing his thoughts away from that path. He has a show to play, one that's pumping his veins full of satisfied adrenaline. Nothing can ruin it.

When the show ends, Eddie is high, endorphins and adrenaline pounding through his bloodstream.

Eddie, the band, and the film crew make their way out the club's backdoor. There's a car idling close by, but they only get a few steps in before there's shouting; the ear-shattering click of dozens of camera shutters; overwhelming burst of flashes.

Eddie is disoriented, dizzy; the rapid shift from the best night he's had in years, to this, mobbed by paparazzi, people screaming his name, crowding their small group. He stumbles, black spots still obstructing his vision.

Arms catch around him, holding him steady. "You okay?" Steve asks.

Before he can answer, one of the paps yells, "Munson's wasted! Can't even walk!"

"C'mon, Ed, I've got you," Steve says.

"Just get into the booze, Munson, or someone had Molly too? Maybe a little coke? That used to be your thing, right? Snort a little blow and do a show?"

Eddie tenses, almost stops, but Steve keeps him going.

The crowd surges around them, more voices yelling, more flashbulbs popping, the guy saying, "He can't even stand without help! You got a real problem you know?"and he just--can't anymore. He whirls out of Steve's grasp, lunges for the guy.

"What's your fucking problem, man?" Eddie hisses. "What did I do to you, huh?"

"Real tough, Munson, huh?" The man sneers. He shoves Eddie hard, knocking him back a few steps.

Eddie's vision fuzzes out, brain buzzing. He snarls, knows he does, knows he's losing it, can't make it stop.

Strong arms wrap around his waist, pull him off his feet. He fights it until he's pressed into a wall, until cold hands cup his face.

"Baby, baby, you have to calm down," Steve murmurs. "You have to breathe, can you do that for me?"

"I want--he can't--I--"

Steve presses harder against him, bodies joined. "You're having a panic attack, yeah? Can you breathe with me, baby? Match me?"

Eddie nods, tries, wants to be good for Steve.

He calms, as much from the breathing exercise as being held by the most beautiful man he's ever seen. Pressing his face against Steve's neck he says, "why are you always around for my worst moments? I'm such a fucking mess."

"I don't think you're a mess," he says. "I think you've gotten hurt, you've gotten cornered. And your reactions are normal."

"Why do you even care?" Eddie asks.

Steve doesn't even pause. "Cause I like you, Eddie." His hold tightens for a second. "I like you a lot."

Eddie scoffs. "Yeah, you like Eddie Munson, the hot rockstar. Not the loser who cries in your arms"

Cold air hits Eddie as Steve steps away to meet Eddie's eyes. You want to know something? I didn't expect to like you at all. I admit, I bought into all the stories on the internet. But you were never anything like that, Ed. Not even once."

Steve takes a deep breath, turning away as his cheeks grow pink. "And you--you're always going out of your way for people. The day I knew I was gone for you? Three weeks into filming. There was this kid interning. You didn't know a thing about him, just some twenty-year-old, and you sat down and talked to him. Were genuinely interested in everything he said."

"Steve," Eddie's voice breaks. He has to cover his mouth, lips a wobbling mess.

"I want to give you normal, Eddie, as much as I can. If you'll let me."

The moisture tumbles free from his eyes, streaking down his cheeks. Eddie laughs. "God, Steve, you're--I like you, too."

Steve brushes the tears away. "So, you'd go on a date with me?"

"I think I would really like to go on a date with you, yeah."

Steve leans in, slow and gentle, placing a soft kiss at the corner of Eddie's mouth. It lights him up like a fresh struck match, nerve endings on fire. He thinks it's so much more than like already.

"Take me home, sweetheart," he says.

"Getting fresh with me, Munson," Steve smirks. "I won't have you using your rockstar wiles to seduce me."

Eddie's laugh echoes off the brick of the surrounding buildings. "Oh, sweetheart, my rockstar ways will destroy you."

"That a promise?"

---

Six months later, the first and only season of Welcome to Hell premieres. Instead, of chronicling a rockstar's debauched and wild lifestyle, it's a soft and charming love story. It shows Steve and Eddie growing closer, Steve working late into the night, to give Eddie the hint of normalcy he's so desperate for, to make him happy. It shows Eddie's eyes track Steve across a room, something like sadness crossing his face. It shows a concert that Steve arranged, the fight with the pap outside the venue, brief glimpses of Steve and Eddie in the aftermath, the gentle kiss.

In the last interview of the season, the producer asks Eddie if there will be a season two of Welcome to Hell.

Eddie smiles, glances off camera, which pans to find Steve in worn jeans and a Metallica hoodie, hair messy and wearing glasses. He gazes at Eddie, smiles this soft, aching thing.

"Nah, I don't think I need it anymore," Eddie answers. Throwing the camera a smile that matches Steve's.

[baewritez]

Just A Little Touch Up (0)

( Aaron Pierre X Plus Size OC )

Summary : The black and white life of a makeup artist is given color by A-List Client

Tags : Work Place Romance , Age Gap , Plus Size OC , BDSM , 18 +

 How does one find themselves bent over a kitchen counter with their hands tied behind their back? Better yet how does one find themselves pent under one of the most beautiful men to grace my eyes?! But that is it; that is what holds the answer. If you were to ask how I ended up in this position, I would say it was an exchange of looks, eyes full of desires, wants, needs so pure like honey that you could almost taste its sweetness. His eyes, like crashing waves held me captive fixed in place while a smirk started to spread on his face. I want to be the next thing spread across those juicy pump lips, as if thunder rolled out his lips so confidently, he said “So do you know how long we are in hair and makeup for?” his voice piercing the darkest part of my desires leaving with a newfound longing.  

Strumming over my words “t-t-t-two hours I think” warm air filled the trailer blowing past him as he walked up the stairs closing the door as he stepped in. His cologne of warm nutmeg and patchouli oil filled the air as I fought the urge to take a deep breath. “Thanks, my assistant and manager won’t be on set til 9:00am so it’s just me and you.” Looking up at him I felt like a dwarf, and he was a skyscraper as he moved closer towards me. “Um that is okay I think I can be finished with your makeup before then. You can sit here.” I gestured with my hand to the black makeup chair in front of me. He held out his large hand towards me. “I am Aaron” I looked at the veins near his knuckles; my mouth started to water as I tried to swallow my thirst down. The image of his big hands grabbing my curly puff and pulling flashed in my mind. SLAPPING my hand down I took a step a back and smiled. My heartbeat was like an alarm in my ear at just the idea of being close to him set it into a frenzy. “Would you like a water or coffee?”  His hand slowly went back down to his side as confusion blossomed on his face, but he gently brushed off the interaction and exchange. As he started to get settled into the seat his bulky frame filled the space around me as I instinctively grabbed the counter behind me. A look of concern washed over his face as his handsome facial features scrunched up. Holding up both of his hands the white shirt and black leather jacket raised up to show his chiseled deep v leading to what I could only think was euphoria “I don’t bite, Love” his husky voice breaking the awkward silence. But all I wanted was for him to leave bite marks and hickeys where no one could see and even in places where they could be seen. I wanted him to show the world that I was his; but that was a fantasy. “So, water, right?” My voice trembled, as I started to break my gaze from his charcoal jeans as it now covered the valley of ecstasy. Slowly tracing up past his white v neck t-shirt into his hazelnut brown and storm cloud eyes taking in his clear and blemish free skin. “Water is perfect, Love.” he replies. Aaron moves his arm to rest of the side arm of the chair and he places his hand on chin and rests it on his full amber beard. Taking a deep breathe I turned to face the counter and mirror; I bent down opening the mini fridge to grab a cool bottle of water as a shiver ran down my spine. Coming up from the fridge I am stopped in my tracks as I glance into the mirror only to be frozen in time as Aaron’s eyes created a fire in his wake. I am the match, and he was setting me ablaze his eyes moving from legs to my ass gliding up like a feather. My palms start to form sweat beads became clammy. It’s as if I was rubbed up against a balloon the hair on my neck and arm stands small shocks pulse throughout my body. The sound of our heavy breathing and the humming of the ac unit filled my ears. He was my Hades making me his Persephone as his bottom lip is captured by his teeth. My mouth is left open the idea of his thick finger filling that emptiness sends another shiver down my spine and my body goes relax. The thud of the bottle snaps both of us out of drunken stupor.

** A/N : I hope i didn't keep you waiting too long. If you like the preview let me know. Welcome to BaeWritez where desire can be fulfilled. - XOXO BAE

[jenosbliss]

pairing. gn!reader x johnny | genre. fluff | wc. 1.3k | warnings. none | requested. here

Johnny Suh was a mystery you didn’t know you cared about.

Every day at work, he was a fleeting presence—a tall, effortlessly charming guy you’d pass in the hallway or see by the coffee machine. He’d flash you that signature smile, the one that made everyone’s day just a little brighter, and you’d smile back, thinking, Who even smiles this much at work?

You didn’t know much about him. He worked in a different department, always surrounded by people. He was funny, sure—you’d heard enough laughter echoing down the hall after his conversations. But that was it. He was a fleeting moment in your day, a brief exchange that never went further than a polite greeting.

Until tonight.

The company’s annual work party was a glittering affair. The downtown lounge was draped in fairy lights, the bar serving overpriced cocktails disguised as “complimentary,” and the DJ playing an eclectic mix of hits that somehow pleased no one and everyone at the same time.

You were nursing a half-empty glass of sparkling water by the bar, the faint hum of conversation buzzing around you. Your friends had vanished into the crowd, leaving you awkwardly stationed near a decorative fern. You weren’t sure why you’d come—these events always felt like an awkward middle ground between socializing and networking, and you were terrible at both.

You were about to make an escape when a familiar laugh reached your ears. Turning, you spotted Johnny across the room, his broad shoulders and navy blazer impossible to miss. He was in the middle of a conversation, his hands gesturing animatedly as he threw his head back in laughter.

It was hard not to watch him. Johnny had this magnetic presence, the kind that made people gravitate toward him without even realizing it.

And then it happened—his gaze flicked up, catching yours from across the room.

You froze, your glass halfway to your lips. His expression shifted into something softer, his lips curving into that familiar, easy smile. He raised his drink in a casual toast, his eyes twinkling with amusement, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Oh no.

Before you could overthink it, Johnny started walking toward you.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning casually against the bar. “You’re Y/N, right?”

The sound of your name from his lips was enough to make your stomach flutter. “Yeah. And you’re Johnny.”

“Glad to know I’m not the only one doing the hallway smile thing,” he said, grinning.

You laughed, relaxing slightly. “It’s hard not to smile when someone’s beaming at you like they’re in a toothpaste commercial.”

“Guilty,” he admitted, shrugging. “I like making people smile. It’s my thing.”

“Well, it works,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm.

“So,” he said, turning to face you fully. “What brings you to the party? Besides the free drinks, of course.”

You glanced at your glass, then back at him. “Honestly? I almost didn’t come. These things aren’t really my scene.”

“Same,” he said, surprising you. “But then I thought, ‘What if the person I’ve been smiling at all year is here, and I finally get to talk to them?’”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Smooth.”

“Thank you,” he said with a playful bow. “So, now that I’ve got you here, tell me about yourself, Y/N. I feel like I’ve spent the past year seeing glimpses of you but knowing nothing about you. It’s kind of tragic, don’t you think?”

You tilted your head, amused. “Tragic, huh?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “What if you’re secretly the coolest person in the office and I’ve been missing out this whole time?”

Talking to Johnny was like opening a window in a stuffy room.

He asked questions about everything—your favorite books, your go-to coffee order, even the weirdest thing you’d ever witnessed in the office. Every time you answered, he’d respond with a quip or a thoughtful comment that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected.

“So,” he said, swirling the ice in his drink. “What’s your karaoke song?”

“Karaoke song?”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “You can tell a lot about a person by their karaoke pick. It’s science.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Well, if I say something embarrassing, are you going to judge me?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his voice teasing. “But only in the most supportive way possible.”

You shook your head, smiling. “Fine. You Belong With Me.”

Johnny gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just delivered a mortal blow. “Iconic,” he said. “We’re definitely singing that at the next office karaoke night.”

“We don’t even have office karaoke nights,” you pointed out.

“Yet,” he said, winking.

The rest of the party faded into the background as the two of you talked. It was easy to lose track of time with Johnny—his humor was effortless, his curiosity genuine, and his energy contagious.

“You know,” he said at one point, leaning against the bar. “I always wondered if you were as interesting as you looked.”

You raised an eyebrow, laughing. “As I looked?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone playful but sincere. “You’ve got this way of looking like you’re solving the world’s problems while waiting for your coffee. It’s intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” you repeated, smiling. “You’re literally the least intimidated person I’ve ever met.”

“Well, now I’m not,” he said, his grin widening. “Now I know you’re secretly the coolest person in the office.”

By the time the party began winding down, you felt like you’d known Johnny for years instead of just an hour. He walked with you to the coat rack near the door, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets.

“So,” he said as you grabbed your coat. “Can I say something without it being weird?”

“That depends,” you replied, your eyebrow arching. “Is it actually weird?”

Johnny chuckled, holding up his hands. “No, no. Just… I’m really glad you came tonight.”

Your chest fluttered, a warmth spreading through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Me too,” you said softly.

His smile softened, his usual playful energy replaced by something quieter, more intimate. “Now that we’re officially past the hallway smiles, what do you say we hang out sometime? Like, outside of work. No fluorescent lights, no awkward coffee machine conversations.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “Are you asking me out, Johnny?”

“Depends,” he said, his grin teasing but his eyes warm. “Are you saying yes?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m saying yes.”

“Great,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Because I’ve got a karaoke duet with your name on it.”

As you exchanged numbers, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, the guy you always smiled at in the hallway was about to become someone much more. And judging by the way he looked at you, he was thinking the exact same thing.

navigation.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

[hoobgooblinn]

[d469son-daddyshelper2]

[haikyu-mp4]

You're not actors

Fluffy workplace romance as a streamer with your secret husband Kenma for my workplace romance event <3

requested by @dira333. word count; 837 – f!reader

Kenma loves his wedding ring. It’s just a piece of metal, but the matching one on your finger makes him giddy whenever he sees it, even if he doesn’t usually tell you that.

Unfortunately, he has to take it off for work. Your relationship wasn’t public, so he would rather not awaken any suspicions by showing his ring on camera. He’s a private person, preferring not to have everyone asking questions about his personal life.

You have separate streaming rooms on either end of the house so no noise would overlap, and so far everything ran smoothly. Sometimes, you would have to remind him about the ring as he kisses you before heading to his streaming room, and sometimes he remembers it himself. 

And sometimes you both forget.

This time, Kenma started the stream with his ring sitting snug on his finger and as time passed, he simply couldn’t move past this one level. It frustrated him to the point of running his hands through his hair and groaning at the seemingly impossible task. As the light from the screen hit metal, it glinted in the camera.

That’s how the speculations started. Is Kodzuken married? He never answers questions about his relationship status…

You’re a streamer too, often seen doing collabs with Kenma but never in person. You worried either of you might forget to act not in love while the viewers are literally observing your every move.

This time, you streamed alone. You recently started a Stardew Valley series where the viewers got to follow the progress with your fun commentary. It was very entertaining and gained you many more followers.

And Kenma knew you were streaming, so it was difficult to hide your surprise when a shattering sound ran through the house and someone hissed “Shit!”

Pausing the stream, you ran into the living room to find your husband surrounded by broken glass and spilt soda with a sheepish look. After sweeping some of it away and making sure he was okay, you hurried back to the stream and started it again to keep playing.

You pursed your lips, trying to act as if nothing happened. Unfortunately, you’re a YouTuber, not an actor.

That’s how the speculations started. Who does she live with? Is she in a secret relationship?

Following these two unfortunate events, you had no choice but to do the collab you had planned, as skipping it would seem suspicious. So just like normal, you both opened the shooter game and acted like you usually would while playing together, as if the comments weren’t bombarding you with these different rumours and some suggested your rumours were related to each other.

While you swore like a sailor at anything disadvantageous during the game, Kenma fell into the bad habit of watching your stream instead of his game, heart eyes evident to anyone who had eyes themselves. He would eventually sober up, getting revenge on anyone who went against you and then killing you so he could win alone.

His soft voice in your headphones made a shiver run down your spine and you wished the watchers were lying when they said Kodzuken is the only one you don’t curse at.

There were several heart eyes during this stream, and it was not just in the comments.

You both stood in the kitchen a couple of days (read nights) later. Kenma had accidentally woken you up by stubbing his toe on the bed and you demanded snacks so he pulled you along to the kitchen. The two of you talked about your latest work adventures or friend gossip while tapping your feet on the cold floors, a plate of apple pie in each of your hands.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” Kenma said, holding his hand up when he knew you were about to say something like I’m happy you told me or else I’d miss it. “Maybe we should just tell everyone.”

When you looked confused, he flipped his hand around, wiggling his fingers to show off the wedding ring as emphasis. Your eyes widened. “That’s a pretty big thought, buddy, good job.”

He snorted, scooping up another piece of cake and feeding it to you. “I’m serious.”

“But I kinda like watching you try to keep it a secret,” you teased again before stepping closer and pressing light kisses along his jaw. Kenma sighed, pusring his lips and looking away with something that looked an awful lot like guilt.

“I might have just said I have a wife on livestream.”

Flashback to a couple of hours before, when some, probably thirteen-year-old, boy commented on Kenma’s apparent lack of rizz. A gen-Z concept Kenma had no interest in taking part in, but felt weirdly offended by.

“Bet you dont even pull, all the marridge rumors are so stupd.”

He would never admit out loud that it hit a nerve, but you wouldn’t need him to. It was evident. “You should see my wife, noob. She’s fucking gorgeous and plays better than whatever you pull.”

masterlist

/thank you @cottonlemonade for brainstorming with me<3

[aventurineswife]

Fluff idea: Reader chases her more-than-friends-less-than-lovers colleague Aven in his office with cute animal stickers in her hands threatening to stick them on his face// She tackles him and comically trips, making them both crash to the ground with their lips colliding as they land, like those cliche animes.. (boomm

“I just wanna be your favorite mistake”

Summary: In the high-stakes world of the IPC, you find an unexpected source of joy in playfully chasing your enigmatic colleague, Aventurine, around his office with a stash of cute animal stickers. Determined to make him wear them, you give chase – only to accidentally trip, sending both of you crashing to the ground.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Humor, Accidental Kiss, Reader works for the IPC too, Friends to Lovers vibes, Workplace Romance, Lighthearted Romance, Playful Dynamic, Slow Burn Potential, Anime Trope (lol).

A/N: I think I'm being stalked or something because I was thinking something similar to this today too 😨

In the polished, high-stakes corridors of the IPC, where risk was currency and loyalty was fleeting, your favorite pastime had recently taken an unexpected turn: chasing after Aventurine with an arsenal of cute animal stickers. It was perhaps childish and silly, especially in a world of cold calculations and ruthless ambition, but something about seeing his refined face adorned with cartoon bunnies and glittery foxes felt irresistible. So, you made it your mission.

Today, as you waited in his office doorway, Aventurine had already caught sight of the stickers in your hands. “I think not.” he murmured with a smirk, adjusting his glasses just enough to peer over them. His eyes sparkled with mirth – and a hint of a challenge.

“Oh, come on, Aven. You’ve dodged this long enough.”

With that, you lunged forward, arms outstretched. He sidestepped gracefully, turning his head just enough for a perfectly timed eye roll.

But you were not giving up that easily.

Determined, you took a quicker step, reaching for his shoulder. Aventurine slipped aside, chuckling at your determination, but you pivoted faster this time, grazing the fabric of his dark green shirt. He spun around, his breath hitching, and you couldn’t help but smile victoriously, eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Gotcha!”

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Because in the very next second, your foot caught on the edge of his office rug, sending you tumbling forward. Aventurine reached out, hands instinctively catching your shoulders as you both toppled to the ground. You landed against his chest with a thud, laughter bubbling up before you even realized how close you were. In the heat of the moment, your noses brushed, and, as though straight out of some romantic cliché, your lips collided with his.

Boom.

The world stilled, both of you frozen in place. His hand, which had been on your shoulder, seemed to linger there for a moment longer than necessary. You felt his breath, warm and quick against your lips, mingling with your own in the awkward quiet that followed.

Aventurine was the first to break the silence. “Well,” he murmured, a soft laugh ghosting over your skin. “I’ll admit, that was an unexpected… strategy.”

You leaned back, your cheeks flushing as you scrambled to sit up, but his hand moved to steady you, his fingers lingering in a way that sent your heart racing. His smile was as charming as ever, but there was something softer there, a warmth that replaced his usual air of suave nonchalance.

“Maybe I’ll consider those stickers after all,” he said, his voice dropping just a little lower. “But only if they’re…” He tilted his head, looking at you with that trademark sparkle. “Exclusively applied by you.”

You couldn't hold back a laugh, still feeling a bit dizzy from the fall – and from him, so close. “Well, only if you promise to stop dodging next time.”

He smirked, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile that was both challenging and endearing. “Perhaps I’ve grown a bit fond of this game.” He shifted slightly, his gaze holding yours with an intensity that sent a delightful shiver down your spine. “Care to make it a… regular occurrence?”

With a teasing grin, you held up the sheet of stickers again. “I’ll consider it. But next time, don’t blame me if I bring the glitter ones.”

Aventurine chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'll take my chances."

And for once, it didn’t feel like either of you was bluffing.

More Aven fics coming 🤭🫶💖✨

[reverieblondie]

Be Sweet to Me

Chapter 1

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader

Warnings: None for this chapter, but eventual smut, Pining, and teasing. For now- Fluff and Miguel struggles with grumpiness and realizing his touched starved, but he's just over worked. Alternating POVs

Summary: People say many things about you're co-worker, and sure he's not the most social but you won't give up being friends with him! Little do you know Miguel is juggling so much in his life, and getting used to you is proving to be more difficult than he thought.

A/N: I am so excited to be finally be making this series! The Alternating pov's is different than what I normal do, but I think it works best for this story! This is heavily influenced by the song Be Sweet by Japanese Breakfast. If you would like to be tagged please comment to let me know!

Chapter: 2, Series Masterlist, ATSV Masterlist

“I need you to organize the samples and make sure that all the documents are in order before the meeting.” 

Giving a slight huff you stop your work to turn on your heels to face your coworker.

“Okay, but what's the magic word?” you playfully tease with the slightest hint of condensation. 

Turning his head you see the unenthused glare in his eyes despite them being shaded behind the round tinted glass. You're still not fully convinced he needs those things inside, some kind of light sensitivity he's explained once but you suspect he might just like the cool guy aesthetic it gives him. Though you wouldn’t blame him if that was truly the case, he does look kinda cool. 

Face scrunched in that way you have gotten used to seeing over these past few months since working at Alchemax. Chiseled jaw clenched shut, his full lips pressed in that iconic frown, thick brown hair styled back to try and tame the unruly waves, and tall bulky figure that you used to be intimidated by, (okay, sometimes you still are) but you have slowly adjusted to your grumpy co-worker: Miguel O’Hara. 

He stared at you for a beat before turning back to his work without another word, his oh-so-subtle way of telling you to shut it and do as you're told. “Alright alright, I’ll get it done. Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

One thing you have learned about working with Miguel is he may not always speak with words so if you want to create an effective work area with him you have got to be good at reading his expressions. Working with a guy like Miguel had its challenges, for one his mood: he's not exactly the easiest to get along with, and people call him cold or cocky depending on the day.  

Then there was how busy he kept himself, always working on something, typing on screens, working with experiments, or tapping away at that clunky watch of his. Even on the days he’s not around due to him ‘working from home’ you can tell just by his face that he hadn’t given himself time to rest. What on earth could keep a man so busy? Well, you have an idea or two… 

Despite his grumpy demeanor you were determined to become friends with Miguel. It didn’t matter what others would tell you about him or how much he distanced himself, you saw the subtle glances, the repressing of smiles, the slight cracks in the shell, You two would become buddies you were sure of it. Maybe he just needed someone to show him the effort, to be sweet to him, then maybe he could lighten up and bring his walls down.  

Pulling out all the stops nothing was going to stop your attempts, you were always nice (even on days where that was particularly hard) Helping with things he didn’t ask of you, organizing and cleaning up behind him. Coffee was always a winner, you knew exactly how he liked it too, you kept making different attempts then stopped on the one where he wasn’t making a face while he took his first sip. -Success! 

Then there was the friendly encouragement, pats on the shoulder, and high fives. Sure he seemed hesitant to them at first but he slowly became used to them, baby steps. 

Every passing day was closer and closer to your friendship blossoming!

Magic word?…was she serious? Why should he say please? It's her job to listen to what he tells her and do what he says considering he’s worked here longer. Miguel keeps typing away at his computer, lamenting in his mind how his co-worker was quite the character. 

Miguel couldn’t deny that having a co-worker who was tasked to help him in all his research did help him out more than he would ever admit. Having to juggle the secret identity of Spider-Man, being the leader of the spider society protecting the multiverse, and having to keep his role as head geneticist in Alchemax. Everything could get taxing very quickly on him. Layla was a great AI assistant but she was limited, so having an actual person tagging along to help him with work was bearable, though…you were a bit exuberant and that was taking some getting used to. 

The jokes, the odd habits, your clumsiness, the smart remarks you mumbled under your breath, your overwhelming friendliness. All this he could begrudgingly handle, but the thing that was still overwhelming him was the touching! Sometimes it wasn’t even touching at all you would just be so close.

First noticing it when you would stand so close that he would accidentally bump into you, if he was looking at a sample you were leaning over him to watch. You had no spatial awareness, running into him, running into things! The first month of you working here you broke so much lab equipment by running into them he thought they would run out of beakers.

Then the friendly gestures started happening. Miguel was used to people keeping their distance, meeting his gruffness, but you?…oh no…you must have seen it as some kind of challenge! The encouraging words, patting of his shoulder, spontaneous high fives, squeezing past him in tight areas, adjusting his coat for him, dusting off crumbs from his chest! Your friendly proximity made him tense, it was…new and different, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Though it could be worse, you could be a completely useless idiot. To Miguel’s surprise you did have a brain in that head of yours, so the trade-off for actual decent help was some playfulness from you he would just deal. It’s not like he wasn’t used to playful coworkers, the spider society made sure of that. Still, you were different…and that blossoming tingling your touch would leave on him…it was…annoying.  

Miguel's eyes move over to you as he watches you begin the task of organizing the samples and getting everything prepared for the meeting. Begrudgingly he was tasked with having to explain the recent studies and developments the two of you had made. The meeting was honestly bullshit, he hated having to report to the chairman, but they liked to keep a thumb on Miguel, making sure he was still their best brain. In fact, you had offered to take over and run the presentation for Miguel but they denied that, had to be him, bastards 

For a moment you turn your head and look towards Miguel meeting his eyes, you shoot him a thumbs up and a smile, that friendliness still shining through. With an annoyed huff, he turns away getting back to his work.

The two of you worked diligently for a couple of hours, in silence of course, there was no time to get distracted with chatting when so much needed to be done. Rubbing his hands over his face he could feel a wave of exhaustion taking over him. Sleep was something he wasn’t getting regularly, there was just never enough time in the day so sacrifices must be made. 

Eyes growing heavy and vision slightly blurring he feels himself slipping, but he can’t, he won't. Then a shrill alarm begins to blare from Miguel's wrist snapping him back awake. Miguel is quick to place his hand over his watch and sneak out of the lab unnoticed, lucky for him you were too concentrated on your work to notice his absence. Checking the message on his watch, it is a local emergency, something he can handle in fifteen minutes tops. With a quick few cracks of his neck, he's leaving to save the city again. 

Stretching, your feeling accomplished in yourself for getting everything prepped single-handedly. Roaming your eyes around the lab you note the lack of bulk in the room. Huh, no Miguel? He must have done one of his disappearing acts again, probably just going to lunch without you. Invite yourself to lunch with him one time and now he doesn't even tell you when he's going. Manners on that guy, oh well, you might as well go get something before the meeting anyway. Coming to a stopping point you gather your things for a nice quick bite in the cafeteria. 

“I can’t see how you can work with him.” Ah, so much for a nice quick bite…

Sitting there trying to enjoy your lunch it’s the usual suspects who come to sit next to you, talking more at you and around you rather than to you. You can’t help but think that this annoying tinge you feel is what Miguel felt when he was ambushed by you. Though you couldn’t have been as annoying as these people. Complainy and gossipy types are not the best combos with your meal. 

Their subjects range from many topics like complaining about work, to failed experiments, personal problems, idol gossip, then it lands to the one directly aimed at you…Miguel. As soon as the question is asked you're looking up from your food to see all eyes on you. Chewing quickly and swallowing to ask your question. 

“I’m sorry what?” 

Sophia groans, “O’Hara, how can you work with him?” 

“Uh, well he does his thing, I do mine?” 

Julius chimes in “Isn’t he a total dick to you though?”

Cassidy is now giving her input to the topic, “Oh I can only imagine what you go through on the daily.” 

“Well ac-” trying to interject, you can’t even get a word in till you're being cut off by one of them.

“Yeah! Like I bet he is always bossing you around.”

“And probably insulting you in some way,” 

“One time he called my team brainless idiots because we messed up one small thing” -it was not a small thing, that took you and him an all-nighter to fix…

“That was-” you try again only to be cut off once more.

“Oh, and he is always being rude!” 

“God, how can you work with that monster!” 

With that last comment you had it, the noise wasn’t meant to be as forceful as it came out but they kept cutting you off and then bad-talking your research partner, you were fed up. Slamming your hands on the table with a harsh slap, effectively silencing them, you rise from your seat grabbing your tray in the process. 

“If you have issues with him you should speak to him like he’s a person. He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance... I've lost my appetite, excuse me…” 

With that, your lunch break was over. 

“Spider-Man!” 

“You saved us!” 

“He’s a hero!”

“But…he’s kinda a jerk…”

“Didn’t he punch an old lady before?”

“I thought she punched him?” 

Uhhgg…would anyone ever get that story right? Miguel is prying the last bus hostage off him as they cling tightly to him. The vulture from his dimension was up to his usual antics but he made quick work of him and was now cleaning up the shocking mess. Having to save the people from the bus was no big deal, it was the pushy reporters, camera lights flickering in his face and the clingy person keeping themselves pressed to him that was the pain to deal with. Taking deep breaths he’s trying to keep his cool, but he can feel himself threatening to boil over. 

How come he can’t just ever save people and leave? Why was there always this extra crap to deal with? Finally getting the person off and seeing that all of what he could do was done he's trying to get out of there, but people can be so pushy…

Questions, Comments, Flashing lights, Praise, Criticism…he couldn’t help but snap. 

“Get out of my way! Leave me alone! And for shock's sake, try to learn to protect yourselves!”  

The crowd was shocked by his sudden outburst, but this should have come as no surprise from the grouchy hero. Spider-Mans in other dimensions were always known for being friendly, witty, funny, and nice to all they saved, Miguel didn’t exactly follow this blueprint. Miguel didn’t exactly mean to sound rude, just being a hero gets exhausting and patience was something he needed to work on. 

Miguel hears the gasp and murmurs amongst themselves about how he’s a dick, a jerk, arrogant, blah, blah…

Rolling his eyes, hidden underneath his mask he couldn't help but think of how irrational these people could be, say one thing the public wasn’t fond of and they are at your throat. It’s all of a sudden no longer how he just saved a busload of people, or saved the city by defeating a villain; No, now it’s about how rude he was. 

“Jerk!” 

“Boo!” 

“I hate you Spider-man!” -great…this just makes everything so much better with this thankless job. 

Swing off before the police come to further irritate him. Hes swinging back to Alchemax, he’s wrapped up in his thoughts. This hero thing was not easy…everything he did wasn’t right, not what people wanted…he was always messing up in some way…nothing was ever good enough, he had to stretch himself thinner and thinner, keeping everything together. The pressure is immense…

Getting back to Alchemax, he changes and tries to resume back to his work, the fight had successfully woken him up but now he’s starving. Eating, like sleep has also become a thing he has had to cut for the sake of time, but something quick should be fine before he gets back to work. Sneaking through a window Miguel is quick to strip the super suit and go back to his lab attire he hid away.

Stopping by the cafeteria Miguel immediately spots you sat by Sophia, Julius, and Cassidy, not good company for you to keep. Well honestly anyone, they might catch their stupid...

Making sure to be as unnoticed as possible last thing he needs is you trying to wave him over to your table. Coffee with a bagel is all he needs to grab so he can make his escape back to the lab. Grabbing a coffee that thankfully wasn't made by you, his sensitive ears can’t help but catch what's being said at your table. No surprise it’s about him. 

Listening in he is catching fragments of the conversation sipping his coffee trying his best to ignore the meaningless conversation, till a remark of him makes him pause at the threshold of the exit. 

 “How can you work with that monster!”

Monster…huh…is that how people see him? Mutated, sure, grouchy, and tempestuous maybe, But a monster. A ping in his chest makes his hands tighten around the cup. Talons threatens to poke through but he resists. If they want to see him as a monster then so be it…he doesn't care…

Suddenly, a slam, followed by your familiar voice catches him by surprise,

“He’s not some monster. Sure, he is not exactly social, but if this is how people talk about him behind his back it makes sense why he keeps his distance”

“Not some monster…” Your words can’t be helped from echoing through his head. You sound so angry, you never sound angry. Looking over he sees your face furrowed in a glare. He didn’t think your face knew how to do that. Watching as you walk away in a haste away from the table he's leaving to his usual eating spot hidden away from others. 

Taking his shades off in the empty break room he dims the lights down as he sinks into one of the chairs. Finally getting even a moment of a break, even taking time to peacefully relax he finds he is unable to. Even sitting leaning back he still feels teased, irritated, stressed. Trying to shut his mind for even a moment, a second of a break he finds it to be an impossible task. But as he sits, his usual stresses fade to be replaced by your words. Miguel could have cared less about what those idiots had to say about him. The surprising thing was that you were defending him…not that he needed it… but it was…kind of you…

Taking a bite out of the bland bagel he groans to himself, annoyed. 

It's almost time for the meeting and you're pacing outside the doors with everything ready to go, except you haven’t seen Miguel anywhere. Running behind is a thing you are not used to from him, he’s usually so timely but you haven’t seen him at all since he left for what you thought was lunch. Did he get caught up doing something else?

 Minutes tick by and you're growing more anxious by the second. Would he just not show up? It’s a possibility, but he would be putting both your asses on the line, though he didn’t have to worry much about that, they wouldn’t fire their best brain, but…you're a bit more expendable.

Before you can continue thinking about your ass being on the chopping block Miguel is rounding the corner adjusting his coat and walking in a casual strut. Looking at him as he approaches you notice his appearance looks a bit, different? That shirt does seem a bit wrinkled and his tie is completely messed up from earlier. What has he been doing? Mid-day workout? Did he have an accident in the lab and have to go change? But the clothes are the same, just wrinkled.

Or was he doing something else… Thinking for a moment over what he could be doing that would cause messed up clothes an image of a sweaty grunting Miguel pops into your brain. His skin shinning in sheen of sweat, his hands squeezing hard of plush thighs as they are moved to be over his massive shoulders... then his dark eyes glaring down before licking his full lips....

Pushing down the horny thoughts with an internal slap to yourself you decide to greet him as friendly as possible. 

“You're running behind Miguel” -okay you can’t help but tease him a bit. Friends rass each other all the time. 

“Yeah, got…caught up in something…” he speaks hesitantly, suspicious…

Miguel gets ready to go inside but you quickly grab him by the shoulder to get his attention “Hold on there, you can’t go in there looking like that” 

Turning to face you, he looks at you confused then looks down at himself, “What? I look fine.” 

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and point to his chest where his tie is haphazardly knotted together in a rushed fashion.

“Your tie” Before he can protest your hands are already getting to work losing his tie gently, “Let me help you” 

With the silk tie undone hanging down his chest, you're moving your hands to raise his collar. As you concentrate on the task your eyes are fixed on his neck you observe that as your fingers slightly brush over his warm skin his body teases slightly. Straightening his neck, you know he’s about to say something.  

“Why are you nice to me? I know what others say about me, so how come? Are you trying to pity me?” His voice is stern and this isn’t what you were expecting out of him right now. Did he hear you earlier? 

The slight laugh that escapes you couldn’t be helped. Moving your hands you cross the two ends to tie in a classic Windsor knot. “Leave it to you to think someone being nice to you is just a ruse to pity you. I just want to be nice to you.” 

Remaining silent you continue to loop and twist the tie, your knuckles blushing over him, you swear you see his skin pickle up for a moment with a slight shiver. Finishing up, you tighten it to his neck and carefully fold his collar back down, keeping your eyes on your work at hand, you watch as his adams apple slightly bobs as you adjust it properly. 

Sliding your hands to the silk tie you brush your fingers down the soft fabric straightening it while laying down flat against his chest. The feeling of his chest tightness under your fingertips and his breath seems to be slightly slow, you don’t know if he is hating this or being relaxed by it. 

Meeting his eyes, they are unshaded for you to observe their burgundy hue. His face is still stern looking but you know this one has that slight softness in his eyes, meaning his listening, he is waiting for you to speak again. 

“I want us to be friends, simple” 

Miguel's lips slightly part as if he was about to speak, but before he could the conference room doors opened with them calling Miguel in. Turning to you there is a look on his face you're not completely used to, but that will have to wait for now. Giving a quick pat to his chest you smile up at him. 

“You got this Miguel, good luck.”