#got an email that said 'your delivery is two stops away!' and I was like 'this means nothing to me'

[telomirage]

so kind of jeongin to keep me company while i wait for my washing machine to arrive ☺️

[alisonsfics]

jealousy jealousy

pairing: tony dinozzo x reader

summary: you’d been too scared to confess your feelings to tony, which you means you have to sit idly by as beautiful women flirt with him. then one day, you’ve had enough and tony overhears you ranting about how much you want to be with him.

word count: 2.6k

“Gibbs, they’re sending someone from the FBI over with those files.” You mentioned, hanging up of your phone.

Gibbs nodding, continuing the form he was filling out. “Good work, L/N. What do you have, Dinozzo?” Gibbs asked. Tony looked up with a surprised expression. He thought he had more time before Gibbs called on him.

“Nothing yet, boss,” Tony responded, bracing for Gibbs’ response. Gibbs didn’t even have to use words. He just glared at Tony. “I’ll try harder.” Tony said, going back to typing on his computer.

You smiled to yourself. Every member of the team had been in that position before. Any day you were on Gibbs’ good side was a good day.

Your computer dinged, and you saw an email pop up in your inbox.

New email from tdinozzo@ncis.com

You glanced up at Tony and saw him pretending to innocently be hard at work. You opened up the email:

“You gotta quit me making me look so bad. You gotta at least give me a fair shot.”

You quickly typed back a response.

“You love me and you know it”

You heard Tony’s computer ding. You looked over the top of your computer to watch his reaction. He chuckled to himself when he read it. He looked up, meeting your gaze.

You blew a kiss in his direction. He chuckled and winked at you.

“Maybe you’d have something for me if you started working and stopped flirting, Dinozzo.” Gibbs said, seeing the way you were both smiling at each other.

“To be fair, boss. She started it.” Tony said, throwing you under the bus. You eyes frantically darted over to Gibbs. The wrath of Gibbs wasn’t something anyone looked forward to.

“But, unlike you, she’s getting her work done at the same time.” Gibbs said, giving you a smile. Your frown and worry disappeared. “Thank you, boss,” you said, cheesily grinning.

“Take a little break. Maybe Dinozzo will focus better. Can you bring Abby this Caf-Pow for me?” Gibbs asked, holding the cup up for you. You stood up, grabbing it from his hand.

“Right away, boss,” you said, heading towards Abby’s lab.

You could hear Abby’s signature rock music playing before you even got off the elevator. You knocked on the open door, causing Abby to jump and turn around.

“Caf-Pow delivery from Gibbs,” you said, smiling. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You walked further into her lab, handing her the cup. “Gibbs usually delivers my Caf-Pow’s himself. Is he mad at me?” Abby asked, staring down at the cup like it would give her answers.

You wrapped your arms around her, giving her a quick hug. “He’s not mad at you, Abs. He was trying to get me out of the squad room. Because apparently I was distracting Tony too much.” You explained.

Abby smirked. “Of course you were distracting him. He can never take his eyes off you. You both are so in love. You just can’t admit it.” Abby said, cheerily.

Abby was right. Well, at least about your feelings towards Tony.

You had never told Abby about your crush though. Abby hated keeping secrets, so you didn’t want to make her keep yours. Regardless of whether you confirmed it or not, she had been confident for years that you and Tony liked each other.

The only person you ever told was McGee. After all, you needed someone to talk to about it, and McGee had really good advice.

“We are not in love, Abs. We’re just friends.” You told her, like you had a thousand times before.

“I’m holding out hope.” She told you, ignoring what you said. Abby slid two stools over for you both to sit on.

“I’d be a shame if you both were to get locked in an elevator together or something.” She suggested with a sneaky smile. Your jaw dropped. “Abigail Sciuto. You wouldn’t dare.” You said, stunned.

“You underestimate my commitment. I know for a fact that Tony could only handle so long in a confined space with you before he is all over you.” She said, winking at you.

You both froze when you heard the elevator doors ding and slide open. Neither of you wanted Tony to overhear your conversation.

“I’ve got company and gifts, Abby.” You both heard Tony’s voice announce as he entered the lab. You noticed a woman in a pantsuit following close behind him.

“Agent Fusco, this is Abby Sciuto, our forensic scientist, and my colleague Agent L/N.” Tony introduced the three of you.

Tony turned around and grabbed the evidence box out of Agent Fusco’s hands. “This is the evidence that the FBI has on our case, Abs. Do your thing.” Tony said, handing the evidence over to Abby.

Abby started organizing the contents of the box, and you couldn’t take your eyes off Tony and his new friend. She was practically drooling over Tony.

“Why don’t I give you this. You can call if you have any questions or if you don’t have any dinner plans?” She said, batting her eyelashes at Tony and handing him her phone number.

You expected Tony to laugh in her face and throw the card away. He didn’t.

He actually smiled at her and slid the card into his pocket. “Thank you. I can show you out now.” He said, placing his hand on the small of her back and gesturing towards the door.

You watched in shock as they both exited the room.

As soon as the elevator doors closed, you and Abby turned to face each other. “Did you just see what I saw?” You both exclaimed at the same time.

“Little miss I can just bat my eyelashes at a man and make him fall to his knees. Like come on, are you kidding?” You complained. Your jealousy wasn’t even hidden at this point.

This isn’t what Abby was going to point out, but she didn’t think you were ready to hear it yet.

“It sounds like someone is jealous.” Abby said, knowing she’d almost caught you. You shook your head, defensively. “I’m not jealous. I just think it’s a little unprofessional.” You lied.

Abby tilted her head to the side. She didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth.

“Really? There’s not even a little part of you that wishes it was you asking Tony out?” She challenged you.

You knew she was absolutely right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it.

“I need to get back to work, Abby.” You said, turning on your heel and heading towards the door.

“You’re in denial. The heart wants what it wants.” She called after you as you left the room.

You walked back into the squad room, and Tony was walking past you going towards he bathroom.

Apparently, your jealousy was written all over your face.

“You okay?” Tony asked, stopping in front of you. He didn’t think it had anything to do with him, but he knew something was wrong.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine.” You lied, giving him a fake smile. He didn’t seem satisfied with your answer, but accepted it.

He walked past you, and you headed towards your desk.

Later, you were standing in the observation room as Tony and McGee were interrogating a suspect.

You had been grumpy since you saw Agent Fusco flirt with Tony. You were unbelievably undeniably jealous. The only person you wanted Tony to flirt with was you, which you knew was stupid because you couldn’t get the courage to tell him how you felt.

Your attention was focused on the suspect, trying to decipher whether they were telling the truth or not.

On the other side of the door, Abby was pacing the hallway. She was trying to decide whether she should tell you what she noticed earlier about Agent Fusco.

You jumped as Abby burst through the door. “Jesus, Abby. Almost gave me a heart attack,” you said, placing your hand on your chest.

“Sorry, but I need to tell you something. You didn’t notice this because you were feeling jealous, but you need to know. Agent Fusco is like a knock off version of you. You both could be sisters, which is probably why Tony is interested. I know you kinda hate her right now, but you only hate her because you think she’s this girl Tony likes more than you. But she’s not. She’s the girl that reminds him of you, and he can date her without risking your friendship. It’s the only reason he hasn’t made a move. He doesn’t want to lose you on the off chance you don’t feel the same way.” Abby ranted.

You felt butterflies appear in your stomach at the thought of her being right.

Then, your self doubt kicked in.

The technician at the soundboard was so intrigued as he eavesdropped that he accidentally bumped a button and turned on the microphone in the room.

“Abby, I know you have this fairytale idea in your head that Tony and I will end up together, but that doesn’t make it true.” You started to say. Unknowing to you, Tony, McGee, and the suspect were hearing every word.

They were all frozen still, not fully realizing what was happening.

“I care about Tony so much, but I can’t get my hopes up for the fairytale. The odds Tony likes me are practically zero. I cant handle the disappointment. So, yeah I have to fake a smile as he flirts with other women, but there’s nothing else I can do. So, just stop bringing it up! Every time you do, I get excited but then I have to get pulled back down to Earth and it sucks.” You argued, all your pent up emotions coming out.

You were about to continue when McGee started knocking on the one-way glass. Being the only one who knew about your feelings for Tony, he wanted to protect you. He knew you didn’t want Tony to hear what you were saying, but he felt like he couldn’t react fast enough.

Abby sprinted out of the room after you yelled at her.

You realized Tony had heard at least part of your rant, and you felt sick to your stomach.

You had to get away from Tony, and you had to apologize to Abby.

You ran out of the observation room and headed straight for the elevator down to Abby’s lab.

When you got there, Abby had locked her door. You walked to the vending machine down the hallway and bought two chocolate bars. You needed to apologize to both Tony and Abby, and chocolate wouldn’t hurt.

You sat down on the floor outside Abby’s lab. You would wait as long as it took to apologize.

After a few minutes, the elevator doors opened in front of you.

Tony stepped out of the elevator and gave you a hesitant smile. “You're next in line, I promise.” You told him. He furrowed his eyebrows, having no idea what you were talking about. “Line for what?” He questioned.

“People I need to apologize to,” you said, simply. You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, not wanting to look him in the eye. You were still feeling mortified that Tony heard your little rant.

Tony leaned against the wall in front of you. “Why do you need to apologize to me?” He asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I embarrassed you in front of all our coworkers. All because I couldn’t act professional.” You admitted.

Tony’s expression softened. He saw how guilty you felt. “You can take me off your apology list. You didn’t do anything wrong to me.” He told you.

Your head snapped up to look at him. You were shocked that he wasn’t mad. “So, Abby locked you out?” He asked, gesturing towards the closed lab door.

You nodded your head. “She has every right to. I shouldn’t have yelled at her just because I was frustrated.” You said, honestly.

“You want me to get her to let you in?” He suggested. Tony always did everything in his power to help you out. You shook your head, knowing Abby needed time.

Tony took a step toward you and held his hands out. “C’mere,” he said, waiting for you to grab his hands. You placed your hands in his, and he pulled you up to your feet.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in for a hug. You breathed a sigh of relief, knowing Tony wasn’t mad at you. You wrapped your arms around him.

He continued to hold you, and then you remembered something.

“Oh, I have an apology gift for you.” You said, pulling out of the hug. You grabbed the chocolate bar out of your pocket and handed it to him.

He chuckled to himself, always amazed at how sweet and caring you were. “Special apology chocolate?” He asked, smiling at you. You smiled back and nodded your head.

“So, why don’t I give this back to you as an apology gift from me? Then, we can call it even?” Tony suggested.

You tilted your head to the side, trying to figure out what he was talking about. He had nothing to apologize to you for. He slipped the chocolate bar back in your pocket.

“An apology for what?” You asked him.

“Not doing this sooner,” he said, taking a step forward and kissing you.

His hands cupped your face as he passionately kissed you. It took you a second to kiss him back, still in shock.

You wrapped your arms around him, letting your fingers caress his back. He nudged you backwards until your back was pressed up against the wall.

You felt the butterflies swirling around in your stomach. His hands strayed from your face and traveled down to sit on your hips. You grabbed the collar of his shirt, keeping him close to you.

His lips felt electric on yours. Every inch of your skin was tingling. The kiss became more impatient. You both had spent years dreaming about being in this exact situation.

Tony spent many nights wondering what your lips would feel like on his. Your lips were softer than he imagined they would be.

He let his fingers sneak under the fabric of your shirt. His fingers left goosebumps on your bare skin.

You both heard a door slam open and turned to see a speechless Abby.

“Just friends, huh?” She said, with a smirk on her face.

Tony took a step back from you, knowing you wanted to apologize to Abby.

“Abby, I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just was overwhelmed, and I’m really sorry.” You said, sincerely.

Abby’s lips curved up to form a smile. “Don’t worry. I know you didn’t mean it. I don’t have any regrets. Someone had to talk some sense into you both and get you to confess how obsessed with each other you are.” She said, still smirking at you both.

“Also, I wasn’t really mad. This was part of the plan. Who do you think called Tony and told him to come down here?” She said, coyly.

You remembered the comment she made to you earlier about locking you both in an elevator together. It wasn’t an elevator, but it did the trick.

And she was right. Tony was only able to last so long in a confined space with you before being all over you.

Tony stood right behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He pressed a soft kiss behind your ear.

“Thank you, Abs.” He said, before smiling down at you.

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[hockeyshmockey]

Lewis Hamilton- Sugar

summary: lewis likes to spoil his girl constantly

warnings: none other than fluff and feelings

The first time Lewis had sent you a gift, it had been reasonable. After your second date, he had sent over a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. When you had expressed your thankfulness, he had brushed it off and said he liked to do it. 

In the past, you had been with partners who had rarely wanted to spoil you outside of the typical holiday, which was never a problem. You knew people had different ways of showing their affection, and for Lewis, gift giving was at the top of his list. 

With your relationship beginning in the off season during the driver’s time in New York, Lewis had fallen into the habit of sending you flowers and taking you out to fancy dinners. That was something that you could see as normal considering his profession. 

Once the season started back up, that’s when he ramped it up. Since the pandemic, your job had gone completely remote. This ended up working in your favor considering you could make a few races to support Lewis. 

You had bought plane tickets to attend both Monaco and Silverstone, and had decided to travel to more as the opportunity presented itself through the season. 

One day, you had been sitting on your couch doing some work, when you got a ping on your personal email. Your jaw dropped when you saw six flight confirmations for first class seats to Italy, Germany, China, Austin, Vegas and Miami. Immediately you picked up your phone to call the culprit.

“Hey honey,” Lewis answered your face time from his bed, with Roscoe panting at his side. “How was your day?”

“Don’t hey honey me!” You squeaked. “What are all of these plane tickets?”

“Oh!” He perked up. “I’m glad Aaron got those settled. Let me know if the times don’t work, he can move the flights around.”

“Lewis!” You threw a hand up. “I can buy my own tickets babe, I told you I would!”

“Yeah, but I could take care of it for you. So I did,” he pouted at you. “Just want to have you there darling, I’m sorry.”

“Jeez babe,” you huffed. “Just ask me next time.”

So while Lewis liked to go above and beyond and get you things you planned for yourself before you could follow through, he also did practical things. One day, you mentioned on face time that now that you were working from home permanently that you wanted to set up a desk and work area. 

Three days later, a delivery came with a desk, chair, and laptop stand. 

That delivery had honestly made you tear up a little. Though this man had all the money in the world to spend, he took the time to spend it on you and on things that would make your life easier. 

Not to say he wasn’t also dramatic in his gifts. When your six month anniversary approached, he sent you a Dior Bag, and Manolo Blahnik pumps. For your birthday, you got a Birkin Bag. For Valentines day, he sent over a Sephora Gift card for an astronomical amount of money, as well as a huge box of designer clothes he had worked with his stylist to pick out (with some lace buried in there he chose himself).

Every gift earned him an exasperated call from you, but every time he gave you those eyes and told you he loved you and appreciated you, the anger slipped away.

The most extravagant gift yet had come during his Summer break. You had taken the time to head to Monaco to spend his two free weeks in his home and in the beautiful weather. 

One day he got you out of the apartment for a nice lunch date, and afterwards the two of you walked hand in hand down the streets. You wandered for a little until Lewis slowed and directed you to a dark store front. 

“What is this?” You asked as he tugged on your hand. “Do you want to go in?”

“Yeah, I do,” he smiled at you, reaching out to open the door for you. You whispered a ‘thank you’ as you passed through the door. You stopped short as you observed the glass cases in front of you. There was an older man and a young woman inside the store dressed impeccably, and the woman approached with a glass of champagne.

“Welcome,” she grinned as Lewis wrapped his arm around your waist. “We are very happy to have you both here with us today. May I introduce Antoine, our head jeweler, who will be working with you both today.”

“Lewis,” you whispered as the woman gestured for you to follow her. “What is going on?”

Lewis tugged you around to face him. “This isn’t the proposal. But I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I want to make sure the ring you wear for the rest of our lives is something you will love. So Antoine is going to help us find something or create something that works for you.”

Tears were in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Breathing shakily, you kissed his neck, his cheek, and then pulled back to press three short pecks to his lips. “I love you,” he beamed down at you, whispering that he loved you too, before the two of you turned back to the store and met Antoine at the first case.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

howard stern

I'M BACK BESTIES!!!!! i'm not totally back to my normal writing, but I finally got through a whole piece! anyways I really liked this and i hope you do too :)

warnings: howard stern being a bitch, talk of weight & body image

word count: 2.1k

"Hello Harry, how are you doing today?"

"I'm well, thank you," Harry answered with a smile. He was on the Howard Stern Show, his first interview since Stevie had been born. He hadn't really wanted to; Howard was kind of a prick. Everyone knew this, but Jeff was convinced this was the right move. He said it would be good for Harry to get back into the swing of things, and no one else was available on short notice. In the end, Harry only agreed because you had pushed him to, reminding him it wouldn't be a very long interview and then he wouldn't have to interact with the abrasive man again for a long time.

"That's good to hear," Howard said. "How have you been these past couple months? Have you been getting anything done?"

"Not much that's music related, honestly," Harry laughed. "I've been busy with family things."

"Yeah, you've kind of been hiding away from the world for a while here, what's that about?"

"Well, as I'm sure you already know, my wonderful wife had a baby recently, so I've been pretty busy... just navigating the world of fatherhood." A smile crept onto his face at the mention of Stevie.

"That's a lot, isn't it? Babies are awful at that age," Howard chuckled.

"Uh- I wouldn't say awful," Harry's smile dropped a little and he sighed internally. He already knew how the rest of this interview would go: thinly veiled insults, questions that were way too personal, and having to pretend he didn't want to get up and walk out of the room. But he knew that wouldn't be a very good look for him, so he gritted his teeth and tried to think of happy things. Specifically, the fact that he would get to go home to his wife and baby in less than two hours. "She's a very sweet baby, we're completely in love with her."

"Yeah, sometimes they're cute, but mostly they just cry and wake you up in the night, don't they?" Howard asked smugly, as if he knew Harry's baby better than Harry did.

"Well, of course she wakes up in the night sometimes. She's hungry, can't blame her for wanting food, can I?" Harry asked, trying to speak lightly and with a smile, but he could feel his patience slipping. He was ready to go home and he was not in the mood to pretend to be happy when this man was clearly insulting his child.

"Sure, I just wish babies could be a bit less annoying when they want something."

Harry nodded, plastering a smile that hopefully looked real on his face.

"So, besides the annoying baby, how's the family? Everybody healthy over there?"

Harry nodded. "Everybody's happy and healthy. A little sleep deprived, of course, but we're managing well, i think. And by we, I mean Y/N. She's truly... just amazing. I have no idea how she does it- she's the one keeping everything together. There's no way I could do any of this without her."

"Yeah, she seems pretty great! I remember though, at first we were all a little uncertain about her. She's not exactly like the other women you have a history with, is she?"

"She's-" Harry started talking, but Howard cut him off.

"I just mean, we were used to seeing you with models and actresses and the like, so it was a bit of a shock to see you with one of us commoners, you know?"

Harry huffed a small laugh, still trying to sound polite. "When you love someone, that's all that matters."

"Right, of course, but don't you get bored sometimes? You stopped going out so much when you got with her, almost like she was keeping you captive or something," He laughed.

"Are you asking me if my wife forced me to stop hanging out with my friends?" Harry squinted at the man.

"No, of course not, but..." He leaned closer with a malicious gleam in his eye, like he was about to hear some big secret. "Did she?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "She did not."

"Okay, okay, if you say so," Howard put his hands up, but then he leaned in again and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. "Blink twice if you need help."

Harry played it off with a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He's good," Howard laughed loudly. "Anyways, let's move on. Since you two are supposedly so happy-" He paused again, as if he expected Harry to cut it and give some dramatic confession about how terrible his relationship was behind closed doors. Harry only raised his eyebrows, signaling him to continue talking. "Tell us about that. When did you two get married again?"

"Almost 2 years ago," Harry said with a smile. "Our anniversary is coming up, actually, it's in 3 weeks."

"Oh wow, you guys moved fast with the whole kid thing, huh?"

Harry nodded. "We both knew we wanted kids and were ready to have them, so... yeah."

"Yeah, no point wasting time, right? How was Y/N after having the baby- Stevie, right?"

"Yeah, her name is Stevie," Harry smiled. "She was good. Again, she's amazing for going through that. She's- i'm just so lucky to have her."

"Did she bounce back right away?"

"I'm sorry?" Harry's brow furrowed.

"You know, did she get her figure back fast? I know that's a big issue for some women," He laughed again.

"Are you-" All traces of Harry's smile were gone now.

"I just mean, I hope she's working to get rid of the baby weight," Howard said casually, as if his words weren't extremely rude. "Just to make sure she can fit into her old clothes!"

Harry cleared his throat. He knew he had to speak very carefully, since this was something you had been very self conscious about. "Well, the two of us are concerned with the new life she brought into the world, not some old clothes, but she looks as beautiful as ever. The amount of pressure women face to live up to certain standards is disgusting to me, and it's especially bad for new mothers. My wife just went through an incredible process, she grew an entire human being in 9 months, then went through labor and the delivery, and she's being told to worry about her figure? That's wrong."

"Right, right, of course," Howard smiled, but Harry could tell he was annoyed at how he couldn't be tricked into speaking badly about his wife.

"I'm really over the whole thing, honestly," Harry said. "And I'm not even the one going through it."

Howard laughed nervously, seeming to finally take the hint that Harry was uncomfortable and annoyed with the topic. "Let's talk about your latest movie, why don't we?"

Harry was closed off through the rest of the interview; anyone could see that. He laughed less, his arms stayed crossed, and his answers were short. He was professional, but it went no farther than that. There was no more playful joking or easy conversation, just Harry trying to get through the interview as fast as he could. When it finally came to a close after his final song, Harry couldn't pack up fast enough. He made sure to say a polite thanks and goodbye before he hurried out to his car.

He sighed deeply before picking up his phone to call you.

"Hi baby!" your happy voice came from the other end. That was good, he assumed that meant you hadn't listened to the interview yet.

"Hi love," he smiled, his mood already improving just from hearing your voice. "Did you listen to the interview?"

"I have been- I couldn't right at the beginning, Stevie was crying, but I caught the end. Why?"

"Why was she crying?" Harry ignored your question, instantly worrying about his baby.

"Sometimes babies cry for no reason, Harry. She's okay, I promise. Anyways, what's up with the interview?"

Harry sighed. "Just the normal for a Howard Stern interview- he asked some very personal and rude questions. Just prepare for that."

"What else is new?" You laughed. "Are you coming right home?"

"Yeah, unless you need anything?"

"Nope, I think I'm good. See you soon!"

"Love you, bye," Harry said, ending the call and starting the car to begin the drive home.

-----

"I'm home," Harry called, removing his coat as he walked in the door.

"We're in here," you responded, not moving from your spot on the couch where you were nursing Stevie.

Harry walked in, a small smile on his face as he looked at the two of you.

"Hi," He sighed, plopping down on the couch next to you.

"That bad, huh?" You asked, taking in his dejected tone.

He hummed in response, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Those interviews are... always something."

"Yeah, I only caught the end, but you sounded pretty upset. What did he say?"

"He just..." Harry shook his head. "I don't think you should listen to it."

You turned your head to look at him. "Why not?"

"He's just very rude and pushy, as always."

"Yeah, i figured, but I wanted to hear your songs," you argued with a small frown. "Did he say something really bad, or...?"

"He just makes some very impolite comments about you and our family."

"Oh," You nodded lightly. "I think I'll be okay, baby. I appreciate you trying to protect my feelings, but I'm used to it at this point, and I really couldn't care less about his opinion of me."

"Alright," he sighed. "If you're sure." He pulled out his phone, checking his email and going through some messages while you started the interview from the beginning. You could hear him grumbling under his breath and huffing every time Howard said something rude, but you ignored it, just laying a hand on his leg to calm him down.

By the time it was over, Harry was clearly not too happy. "I can't believe I went back on that show," he shook his head. "I'm never doing that again. I'm so sorry about what he said about you, I honestly should have just left-"

"It's okay," you cut him off with a smile. "Also, it was kind of hot to hear you get mad at him."

"Yeah?" He smiled back. "I thought I was very tame, actually. I wanted to say some other things, but I figured that wouldn't be a very good look for me."

"Right, but the way you attacked him but stayed professional... very hot," you laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," He smiled, turning his head to kiss your cheek in return. "Is she done? I really need to hold her after the day I've had," He sighed dramatically, throwing his head back.

"I'm sure," you laughed, handing Stevie over to him and pulling your shirt back into place. "She's all yours."

"Hi baby," he cooed, holding her close to his chest. "I missed you so much."

Stevie yawned in response, cuddling into him.

"Oh, you missed me too?" He grinned. "See that? She missed me."

"She did," You agreed. "She was looking around when she heard your voice on the interview, she wanted to know where you were."

"I'm sorry," he pouted down at her. "I'll never go away again, and I'll never let the bad man be mean to you again."

"I don't think she's too upset about it, Harry," you laughed. "She is only 3 months old. She didn't exactly understand anything that went on."

"Excuse me," he said, looking very offended. "She may only be 3 months old, but she's very smart."

"Right, she's a genius baby, how could I forget?"

"I don't know," Harry shook his head at Stevie. "How could she forget how smart you are, hmm?"

Stevie yawned again, stretching her arms above her head.

"She's ready to take a nap," you said.

"Can I just hold her? I know it's not a good habit, to let her be held to sleep, but I don't want to put her down yet," Harry said, looking up with such pleading eyes, you couldn't possibly say no. Not like you would have said no anyways, but he didn't need to know that.

"Of course you can," you stood up, kissing his forehead before you turned away. "I'm gonna do the dishes, then we can watch something if you want."

"No, let me do those," he immediately protested.

"Harry, it's okay, I haven't done anything around the house since she was born-"

"And I'm not about to let you start now," he cut you off. "Come back here, please? Let's start that new show we were looking at the other night."

"Fine, but later I'm going to help you with the dishes."

"Fine," he smiled, agreeing with your compromise, even though you both knew he would argue later. "Now come back here."

[ruvatia]

Sorry if this is a bit much with everything going on, but could I request a scenario where the Paladins + Matt & Lotor have a black s/o and they’re scared abt everything that’s happening in their country and are sad that racial injustice is happening? I’ve been rlly worried the past few days, but if this is smth too uncomfy I understand ;w; Thank you 💖💖💖

This got really long, I apologize but I turned it into half-headcanons with just the main paladins-- i apologize for not doing all the characters you’ve mentioned, but I don’t think they would fit all in a single post anyways www

On another note I hope you and every other reader take good care of their mental health; it’s important to be aware of what’s going on but it’s also important to be in the right mindspace to be able to tackle everything that’s being shared. It’s pain that’s been boiling for a very long time and there is absolutely no shame in taking some downtime to recover before heading back into current issues.

SHIRO:

If you were saddened, Shiro would suggest that maybe you switch to something else; if there was something that he knows will distract you and temporarily have you be a little more at ease, he’d do that!

But also maybe add a little twist-- extra soft blankets (fresh out of the oven! Screw the bills you’re worth it), extra cheese on your favorite dish, whatever it is that can make your smile a little wider, bigger or brighter just let him know!

Would give you hugs if you asked, but usually Shiro pets your head and brushes your cheek for comfort

He also does this when he wants to ask something of you, but thats another story

Why the TV was still on was a mystery to you, you’d stopped listening a long time ago. Your partner besides you noticed, and you felt the hand around your shoulder tighten his grip a little, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, maybe we should watch something else?” he asked softly, brushing your cheek with his hand. “I can’t really listen to this anymore.”

“Yeah… Sure.” you replied, though it felt like an automated response more than your actual opinion.

“Okay, I’ll switch to that weird show Pidge recorded the other day, we agreed to watch it, right?” he replied, quickly grabbing the remote to change the program.

The first episode started playing, but the moment that it did, you felt cold as Shiro left your side.

“Where are you going?” you asked, your interlaced fingers the only thing keeping him close.

“Ah, I thought I’d make us something. We both kinda skipped dinner….”

He’d thought about putting something together that you’d like, maybe order dessert to surprise you but seeing the look on your face, leaving your side was the hardest thing to do right now.

So he gave in, and your both fell asleep until the doorbell rang with your delivery.

KEITH:

I have this headcanon that Keith isn’t very good with physical touch but after the end of voltron and after enough time of humanitarian relief, he learns how important it is for someone that’s in a specific state of mind

So the best he has to offer when his words fail is physical touch

Over your time together he’s learned what you need depending on your mood, and it helped him out lots when you were more vocal about it-- if anything he liked it when you asked for things that he could easily deliver, he’d do anything to see you smile

A hand came over your phone screen, Keith’s fingers lacing into yours and making you drop the device onto the crevices of the sofa.

“Why did you--”

“You’ve been staring at that thing for the past hour, biting at your nails.” he said in a worried tone. “That’s enough. We’re going to bed.”

“But it’s just--”

“We’re going to bed.” he repeated in a harsher tone, lifting you off your seat.

Keith sat down onto the bed first, pulling you into him. You both fell onto the bed, Keith quickly pulling the covers over your shoulders before his arms came around you.

“My alarm is my phone.”

“That’s nice, but we both know we have nothing to do tomorrow.” he replied right away, making you chuckle.

“Keith…” you called, your hands sneaking up to his face.

You brushed away some of his hair from his face as he gave you a complicated expression, unable to reflect the small smile you wore. He knew things were shit outside, that being apart from your family and other loved ones was a toll on both you and that lately negative thoughts have plagued you more often than not but Keith, despite his good intention was still somewhat of an awkward man.

“Thank you.”

He kissed you in reply and you both left it at that, glad that he had someone like you to meet him halfway.

LANCE:

Lots of hugs the moment he feels something is off with you

Will be a brat™ for the sole purpose of distracting you, bET

I feel like post-series Lance tries his best to be as observant as Allura and tries to understand others better-- but it didn't take a genius or incredible empath to know why your eyes looked like they were about to overflow at the sight of the news.

I’d like to think that Lance, with a big connected family is one of the paladins that very easily gets what you’re going through, wouldn’t be surprised he’s been called one or two things in his past either

That being said it doesn’t mean that he completely understands your personalized struggles with racial injustices that you encounter everyday; as another minority himself + coming from a culture and upbringing that might be different than yours, its a very different experience.

Memories flooded as the news anchor spoke about “lootings” and as you scrolled down your feed to see feeble attempts at sympathy from local peacekeepers. You sigh and retweet another thread, only to find something equally as shocking right after. You stopped commenting in quote retweets a while ago, you felt like you were constantly repeating that none of this was okay and that a reform was desperately needed. Rather than typing out your thoughts you typed out your name, address and email over and over again, signing one petition after the other.

Hearing sigh after sigh, Lance eventually put an arm around your shoulder. He startled you, but his soft voice made both your shoulders and your guard lower.

“Hey, do you want to make a midnight snack with me? I’m getting kinda hungry.”

“What about that new rule we were talking about? Not eating 4 hours before we went to bed?”

“Every diet has one or two cheat days, don’t they?” he replied, kissing one of your eyelids. “Come on, I’m sure your neck is sore from being like that for so long.”

In the end you both made some soul-food until a food-coma knocked you out until tomorrow. In the morning, you realized that Lance must’ve woken up in the middle of the night because you remember cuddling on the couch, and yet you’re waking up on the bed. Of course, still in his arms.

HUNK:

Having a sensible heart, I feel like both you and hunk would struggle a little about maintaining a healthy distance with current events.

Though overtime he would understand that keeping in touch with everything that’s going on is important, but not at the sake of burning out

His best bet, to him, to pull you out of a such a dark space is with comfort food

“Ok ppl feel like they want to eat a horse but they actually cant when they’re in that mind space Hunk, let’s make something sweet and small; something direct and straight to the point! Let’s add smiley faces on it!”

Your turned down the volume from the news, let your head fall backwards and brought up your forearm over your closed eyes. It felt warm and made it you realize that you had probably been staring very intensely at the screen as a wave of comfort hit your eyes the moment they were drowned in darkness. Letting out a deep breath, you stilled and let yourself bask in your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you back.

“Maybe a little bit more sugar? No, then it would be disbalanced. The base is already so sweet-- Ah, I have to take the cupcakes out or else they might get burned!”

You felt a smile grow on your lips, making you ignore the horrid news being broadcasted to turn to your partner that as usual, seemed to juggle ten thousand things to create a whole meal.

“What’s going on over here?” you asked, leaning over the counter to note that one of your favorite dishes was made and machines that were mostly used for baking had been brought out.

“Oh you know, just a little pick me up for my most favorite person ever.” he shrugged, but a smile soon came to his face. His hands were full but he leaned over, his lips meeting your cheek. “Things outside are a little dark, so I thought we could both use a little something nice.”

He turned on the machine after dropping a drop of dye to make it your favorite color and within a few minutes the icing was finished. Hunk scooped up a small amount on his finger and brought it to his lips and nod.

“Wanna taste?” he asked you, his finger dipping into the icing.

A mischievous grin spread on your features as you took his wrist and let his finger fall on your tongue, the sweetness quickly spreading through your mouth. The yellow paladin shivered as you let his digit hang in your mouth for longer than necessary, letting out a satisfied hum when you returned it to him.

“Tastes perfect.”

PIDGE:

She knew what could be fixed, she knew how to fix it but this meant she was also aware of how long such a transition would take

I think Pidge would be similar to Shiro: whatever she remembers that helps you be at ease, she would defect to that in hopes to maybe distract you for a while.

I don’t think Pidge is a very touchy person either, so if she reaches out to you _physically_ in worry, it’s a very clear sign she’s serious/anxious

I feel like she would reach out in other ways and then if she knew you were in a specific state of mind where touch was not useful, or if she just also wanted to try things out lol

As you watched the twisted information that was being shared on screen, another message caught your attention. Rather than a small red icon in the corner, a small window appeared in the middle of your computer screen.

<I found a way to modify notifications sent to another device.>

The video had stopped, every horrible gif about police brutality was paused and there was nothing else but the small window pidge had thrown onto your screen. You chuckled, and felt a pressure behind your working chair.

Another message popped up.

<You’ve been catching up with twitter for the past two hours. Surely you’re done now?>

A soft laugh came from you, making Pidge release a breath she didn’t know she was holding. You typed out an answer:

<Is it possible to be completely caught up with twitter? I follow like 500 accounts.>

<Okay, but half of them are just cat videos and the other half are just retweets of said videos.>

<Oh here I was thinking that this was an intervention to brighten my mood. We’re dragging each other’s follows now?>

<Oh please like you don’t want to be dragged, with that kind of follow list.>

<I can’t believe you’ve done this.>

You both laughed, before Pidge turned around and tapped your shoulder. She let her hand float in the air, yours coming to join it as a soon as your turned her way.

“Wanna take a nap?” she asked, letting her head fall onto your shoulder. “I had Chip make some hot chocolate, Hunk style.”

You squeezed her hand, putting your computer on sleep mode.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

[yeoandmoon]

you are now listening to graceland too by phoebe bridgers! ( yeosang x f!reader )

fluff, burnout!yeosang, bassist!yeosang, writer!reader, childhood friends 2 lovers but also idiots 2 lovers, yeosang and reader run away, seongjoong are engaged, wooyoung + yeonjun have a band, there is only one bed, yeosang has a nose ring, it’s implied reader has a bad relationship with her mother, wc is 3.1k

NOTE: happy yeosang day! this was a doozy to write, but i hope you all enjoy it! its based off one of my favourite phoebe bridgers songs! :)

There’s a mural on the wall of the hotel lobby. It’s a warm toned painting of a forest, with a hint of a bright blue sky peeking out from the top of the trees. There’s a moose standing at the forefront of the mural, and a little fox sleeping on a rock towards the bottom, surrounded by colourful flowers and leaves.

The mural confused you, if you were being honest. The hotel you worked the night audit at was situated in the busy downtown centre of the city you lived in, and there were barely any forests for miles around the city - let alone any wildlife, like moose or foxes. Hongjoong said it was to make guests feel more ‘in touch with nature’ and to help people forget about the ‘problems of the real world’, while Yeosang claimed it was ‘just another scam in the tourist trap’.

You, on the other hand, was sure the mural was put there to torture you. You would spend nights having staring contests with the moose (which, to your surprise, you always lost), or you would spend hours on Google with Hongjoong trying to find out what species of fox the sleeping fox was (you were sure it was a cape fox, while Hongjoong swore up and down that it was a gray fox). The blue sky between the trees teased you; a reminder that most of your days were spent in the library at your university, or in this dimly lit lobby.

Sometimes, it felt like the only time you saw the sunshine was when you were with Yeosang.

Despite the occasional burnout and the lack of seeing sun most days, you didn’t mind the job. You were always more of a night person, and your classes were always later in the day so you did manage to pull in some sleep. Due to the late hours, you usually only dealt with customers in the first hour or two of your shift, and most of that was just directing confused Ubereats delivery people and pretty Tinder dates to hallways and rooms. It was the perfect job to work on your writing, and get your school work out of the way without listening to your mother cry about how you’re throwing your life away like your sister.

Plus, you could think of a hundred worse people to spend the night shift with than the nighttime valet, Hongjoong. Hongjoong often kept you occupied with his latest reforms and art projects, and stories about his fiancee, Seonghwa & their friend, Yunho (who he kept insisting you needed to go on a date with).

“Your emo boy is coming.”

Well, you could think of ninety-nine worse people to spend the night shift with than Hongjoong, who sat next to you at the check-in desk.

You scoff, “He’s not my emo boy.” You mumble, glancing at the street entrance to see Yeosang walk in with an ice coffee on hand.

Despite your words, Kang Yeosang was your person (you wouldn’t quite use the term ‘emo boy’, even if it did fit), and he had been since your family moved in next door to his family when you two were children. Although your friendship lately had been reduced to these late night meetings while you two were on break on your respective graveyard shifts (you at the hotel and Yeosang at the convenience store down the block, of course) and occasional meetings in the garden when you were both running errands for your families, you still considered Yeosang one of your dearest memories.

It was hard not too, you suppose. He had been there for many of your firsts, and was always cheering you on. Yeosang always made you feel powerful and important - like a powerful heroine, and not his bratty next door neighbor who cried on his doorstep after being dumped by her first year partner. He always made you feel wanted.

Yeosang grinned at you as he stepped into the lobby (if your heart fluttered in your chest, you ignored it). He had on a backwards dad cap, and he had recently changed his nose ring out for the gold hoop San had bought him for his birthday. You could just faintly see his birthmark peeking out from where his bleach blonde hair curled under the hat.

“Hello, Sunshine.” He greets you, setting the coffee down on your desk.

You set the pen you were holding down, “Hi Yeosang.”

Upon first glance at Yeosang, you can tell he’s buzzing about something. He’s leaning over the check-in counter and chewing on his lip while making small talk with Hongjoong about the tourist season.

You raise an eyebrow, sipping your coffee as Yeosang turns back to you, “Do you remember Wooyoung and Yeonjun?”

You nearly choke on your coffee at the mention of your other neighbor and ex-boyfriend. Wooyoung had moved onto your street a few years after you had, and quickly became apart of the little bond you and Yeosang had formed. He moved to the coast with Yeonjun, your ex, the first chance they had gotten, but Wooyoung’s family remained in the neighborhood.

“I babysat Woo’s brother the other day…” You watched your friend, “Did something happen? Mrs Jung didn’t say anything the other day.”

Yeosang grins, and it’s his scheming grin, “Their band got signed,” He tells you, “They need a new bassist, and Wooyoung showed them that video you took of me from that show last month. Their label wants me to come down; play a few shows with them, record a couple demos. See if we have chemistry, basically.”

Your eyes widen - both out of excitement and fear. You were happy and excited for Yeosang! This is the opportunity he had been wanting for years, but you were also terrified.

You were terrified in a horrible, selfish way because you knew if Yeosang left to join Wooyoung and Yeonjun, he’d never come back to you.

“That’s… That’s great, Yeo!” You manage a grin whilst trying to shove the selfish thoughts away, “When do they want you there?”

Yeosang’s smile falters, just for a moment but you still catch it, “Monday.”

“F-Five days?”

He nods, “I’m leaving Saturday morning, so I can be there Sunday afternoon.”

You can see it in his eyes; he’s terrified too.

Before you can say anything else, Yeosang leans over the check-in counter and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I have to get back to work, Sunshine.” He tells you, his voice quiet as if he’s giving you a secret, “I’ll see you later.”

He’s already halfway down the lobby when you swear and move out of your chair, you quickly call his name as you move out from behind the desk. You rush over to where he’s standing, and look up at him. He’s confused.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words die in his throat when you pull him into a tight hug, “I’m proud of you, Yeo.”

Yeosang wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. His chest is warm, and you’re sure you could spend hours here. He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head, “I know, Sunshine.” He pulls away, his hand on your arm, “I really do have to go, though. I’m already late for work.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around your torso as you watch him leave the hotel and turn down the street to go back to the convenience store. When you turn back around, Hongjoong is watching you with an amused look on his face.

You glare at him as you walk back to the desk, “Don’t you have a fiance to call, or something?”

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

You were tired.

Friday nights were always busy, but tonight was draining and loud and you could only take so much of Miss Liu’s incessant phone calls about mundane things at 3am. All you wanted to do was go home, and fall into your bed and sleep for hours.

Hongjoong didn’t help your mood either. It was an innocent question about Yeosang, asking if you’d seen him since he visited you on his break but it pushed your mood down to a low point. You had been so busy the past few days, and if you were being honest with yourself, you had been avoiding Yeosang.

You weren’t ready to see him leave. You knew it was selfish, but you figured avoiding Yeosang was easier than admitting you didn’t want him to leave you behind. You would just simply watch his life through Instagram and consider the ‘what-ifs’ in your life.

You shouldered your tote bag after clocking out before yelling a good-bye to Hongjoong. You could see the beginning rays of morning sun hitting the other buildings in the downtown core as you stepped out the employee doors, and then you were hit by the sight of Yeosang leaning against one of the pillars.

Your eyes widen, “Yeosan-”

“Come with me.”

You stop. Your words are left in your throat, “W-Wh… Go with you? To the coast?”

Yeosang nods, “Come with me,” He steps forward, taking your hands in his, “What do you have here? A degree you don’t care about? A job you hate?”

You frown, running over his words in your head, “I-I have my mom. And… I have Hongjoong!”

He raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, Sunshine… Your mom will barely notice you’re gone, and Hongjoong can visit us.” He cupped your cheek.

You’re so busy having an internal crisis you hardly notice the usage of ‘us’. You’re considering the logistics in your head. Yeosang was right; you didn’t care about your degree, and all it would take was an email saying you quit for them to find a new front desk person. Your mom would be upset for a few weeks. She’d probably make some passive aggressive Facebook posts about you before acting like your best friend again.

“Yeosang…” You look up at him, your hand coming up to circle around his wrist.

“Your sister is there, and you could write everyday.” Yeosang adds on, “I did the math, Y/N. Between the two of us, we’d have 6 months to figure it out. 6 months, and we’ll come back here if nothing works out.”

You stay silent for a moment.

“Sunshine, I promised I’d show you the stars, didn’t I?”

You gasp at the promise. It was a silly promise he had made when you were both kids; something you’d almost forgotten about.

It hits you quickly: there’s no one else you’d rather run away with. There’s no one else you’d trust to run away with.

You look up at Yeosang, “Yes.”

He grins, “Yes?”

You nod, “Yes, Yeo. I’ll go with you.”

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

An hour. An hour was how long it took for you to turn your life upside down for Kang Yeosang.

In an hour, you had emailed your program advisor and told them you wouldn’t be returning for the next semester, and you had called your manager and told them you wouldn’t be coming in for your next shift, or any shift after that (which was promptly followed by a phone call from Hongjoong, who seemed more excited about this than you were). You had packed up most of your clothes and important belongings, and they were loaded into the back of Yeosang’s shitty car. You left a note for your mother, and before you knew it, you were sitting in the passenger’s seat of Yeosang’s car.

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

You had fallen asleep barely an hour into the car ride. 

The rolling hills and fields outside your window made your eyes feel heavier, but you tried staying awake to keep Yeosang company.

“Go to sleep, Sunshine.” He tells you, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Yeosang’s promise was all it took for you to succumb to your exhaustion.

You don't usually remember your dreams. Though today, there are flashes of a beach, and a smile that takes your breath away. There are blue skies and if you try hard enough, you can just faintly smell sea salt.

You wake up hours later, smiling. True to his word, Yeosang is still there when you wake. He’s wearing a pair of sunglasses, and tapping his fingers to the beat of the song on the radio.

Yeosang smiles when he notices you’re awake, “I talked to your mother.”

Your eyes widen, “You talked to who?”

He laughs, “You didn’t answer your phone, so she called me.”

You frown, glancing at your phone in the free cup holder. You could imagine the amount of calls and texts that were in there.

“She wasn’t very happy.” Yeosang continues, “She wants you to call her when we get there.”

You nod, “Thank you, Yeo.” You say softly, looking over at him.

Yeosang throws you a smile, “Of course.”

“Not just for talking to my mom…” You watch him, “For not leaving me behind, too. Thank you.”

Yeosang reaches over, taking your hand, “I’d never leave you behind, Sunshine. You’d have to try really hard to get rid of me.”

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

The car ride was long, and full of Yeosang’s early 2000s emo playlist & fast food. You called your sister, who was ecstatic to hear about your plans and had immediately offered you and Yeosang her beach house. She made a comment about how ‘she always knew you two would end up together’, and it made your heart flutter when you glanced at Yeosang.

Yeosang told you about Wooyoung’s band, and how excited he was to play with Wooyoung. You smiled, listening to him fondly talk about your old friends and their music.

It was getting late though, and you could see it in Yeosang’s face that he was getting tired.

“We should stop for the night.” You tell him, “You’ve been driving since 6am, Yeo.”

He huffs, “We could drive through the night.” He proposes, “We’d make it to your sister’s place in a few hours.”

You frown, “Or... We could stop for the night, shower, and then leave first thing tomorrow morning. We'll get there by noon tomorrow.”

Yeosang glances at you, going to protest. He ends up yawning instead, his nose wrinkling slightly, “Fine.” He pouts.

You laugh, reaching for your phone to google the closest hotels. There's a comfortable silence in the car, filled with the occasional beat of Yeosang’s fingers on the steering wheel. You feel at ease, even if it's just for a moment.

“There’s a motel off the next exit.” You tell him, stifling a yawn of your own.

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

Sure enough, there had been a motel off the next exit. It was small and slightly rundown, but cheap and had an available room. You waited in the car while Yeosang went into the check-in office, promising to be back in a moment.

He came back dangling a key in his hand, and a slight frown on his face as he opened the car door to let you out.

“So... There’s only one bed.” He broke the news, a blush growing up his cheeks, “It’s all they had, unless we wanted to drive another hour down the highway.”

Your eyes widen, “O-Oh.” You glance at the key, and then back up at Yeosang, “I’ll sleep on the floor, or something.”

Yeosang frowns, shaking his head, “We can share for one night, Sunshine. I think it’ll be okay.”

Which leads you to here; lying almost nose to nose with Yeosang. Your hair was soaking wet from a shower in the tiny bathroom and the small motel bed wasn’t comfortable, but you didn’t seem to mind as you took in the man in front of you. You pushed the strands of bleach blonde hair out of his face, and your fingers softly lingered on the birthmark next to his eye.

His breath stuttered, “Y/N,” He says, his voice a mere whisper, “We’re free.”

You let your hand rest against his cheek. Your eyes lingered on his lips before you caught yourself, moving your gaze back up to his eyes.

Yeosang only smiled at you. He gently held your wrist as he tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on your palm, “I’m going to kiss you now, Sunshine.”

“Yes please.”

You felt every nerve in your body light up when Yeosang kissed you.

A small part of your brain told you that this is where you’re meant to be: in Yeosang’s arms.

You felt this way the first time Yeosang had kissed you too, all the way back on that roof in 11th grade. You two had been talking about the future; about your writing and Yeosang’s music. You looked up at the hazy night sky, and you asked Yeosang if you’d ever get to see the stars.

He smiled at you, telling you that he would show them to you one day before he kissed you so sweetly.

Yeosang still kissed you sweetly. He kissed you like you held the secrets of the universe in your hand for him to take.

You pulled away, “I think I love you.”

He smiles against your lips, rubbing soft circles into your wrist, “I think I love you too, baby.”

—————-

You had this assumption that the next morning would be awkward; that you would be stuck for the next 6 months with someone you could barely look in the eye because of a late night confession.

Instead, you awoke to Yeosang kissing your head and placing a bagel & ice coffee down for you. He had quickly ushered you into the shower, before you put on a change of clothes and were quickly led out to the car between bites of your bagel. This all happened over Yeosang telling you how you only had a few hours before you reached your sister’s beach house, and he wanted to try and make good time so you could enjoy the beach today.

You giggled at his antics before settling into the passenger’s seat for the last few hours of your journey.

You sipped your ice coffee as you watched out the window. The countryside on the highway zoomed by you, and the car was full of sunlight from Yeosang’s sunroof being open. There was a Fall Out Boy song on the radio, and you felt a sense of calm brush over you as Yeosang took your hand in his.

The sunshine had never felt so nice on your skin as Yeosang pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

taglist: @vanishingboots @sunsethw4​ 

[youarejesting]

Hope In The Sheets.6

[Masterlist]

Beta: N/A Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Genre: Friendship, Comedy, Soft boy, Fluff, SMUT, Friends2Lovers, Words: 4.2k

Summary: You held many titles: his neighbor, colleague, wing-man… well, more likely a wing-woman, yet most importantly, you were his best friend. You had been friends since you were born. Between the two of you, you were younger; barely, but he never let you forget it. He always seemed to ruffle your hair and tease you, which could get rather annoying but he made up for it by treating you to things.

What if a drunken one night stand between you and your best friend Hoseok leads to more complicated situations? Your reckless twenties are cut short as you find yourself suddenly responsible for something a little more.

Warning: Not sure if there is any.

[First] [Previous] [Masterlist] [Next]

“Jimin, Where can I find jin?” Hoseok called across the bar. 

“He is on the dance floor,” Jimin said, gesturing and Hoseok thanked him and headed out through the bodies. He felt odd like he had forgotten how to weave through the bodies and he was jostled to a fro until he stumbled on a blood boiling sight. Seokjin was making out with a young lady, the two grinding against each other, and Hoseok grabbed Seokjin and punched him.

He watched Seokjin look up shocked from the floor, his cheek becoming a little puffier and redder. The music had stopped and Yoongi jumped down off the stage standing ready to break up a brawl if needed. Jungkook was there as well looking at the angry Hoseok.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Hoseok growled low, “Y/n is at home sleeping and you are here grinding on the dance floor and making out with another girl.”

“Hoseok-” Seokjin began but was quickly interrupted.

“I felt your baby kick, and you are out here cheating.” He was seeing red, he didn’t know what he was going to do but it wasn’t going to be good. He couldn’t accept giving away the love of his life to Seokjin if he was out partying and sleeping around. “You don’t deserve her”

“Hoseok, the baby isn’t mine,” He said, making Hoseok freeze confused “I wasn’t the person who slept with her that night, I was working and you can see the footage, I went home with a guy”

“Then who is the father?” Hoseok said

“She doesn’t want to say,” Seokjin said, look go home cool off and ask her in the morning.

“You're lying, she tells me everything and she wouldn’t lie to me, we have been friends since we were children.” Hoseok was fuming and confused and he wanted to hit Seokjin again. 

You had been awfully secretive about things but that didn’t mean this right, this was so important and scary for you and he was your best friend through it all the one person you could lean on and trust. He would be the first to know who the father was. Right?

“Go home Hoseok,” Seokjin sighed, rubbing his swollen jaw, “before I have you thrown out of my bar”

“Come on Hoseok,” Namjoon said sadly, “you two can talk in the morning when you have calmed down. You are scaring the customers”

The reality of the situation seemed to fall back on Hoseok as his focus fell from Seokjin to the club patrons standing around dumbfounded at the situation. 

Hoseok nodded, letting Namjoon guide him from the club, Jungkook who was on door duty looked over with a smile. His smile fell quickly looking at Hoseok and Namjoon’s solemn faces. 

“Would you like me to call a taxi?” Namjoon placed his big hand on Hoseok’s shoulder looking into his eyes searching for any signs of violent emotions but he only found a sense of powerlessness. 

“Nah, I need time to think I will walk home.” He said, walking towards his old apartment and trying to process even the slightest thought that you were lying to him. 

Twenty-five years that’s how long you had known each other, you were his best friend. There was never secrets between you, Hoseok knew when you got your first period and you knew the first time he had sex. It was just natural when something happened, whether it was meaningless or important, especially something important that the other person knew. 

But, you were pregnant and you didn’t tell him, you wouldn’t even tell him the father. Not only did you not tell him you lied to him made something up to hide from telling him. 

“Hey Hoseok,” Yuta called from across the street he was sitting on his delivery bike and eating some pizza. 

Hoseok walked over, taking a slice without permission, and leant against the wall. “Y/n lied to me. Perfect Jin isn’t her boyfriend or the baby daddy, can you believe that?”

“Help yourself I guess,” Yuta laughed “what’s got you in a daze.”

“Look I don’t remember much about that night, I don’t know who I was with but I remember walking home and waking in my bed.” Hoseok sighed chewing the pizza to the crust and dumping it into the box before grabbing another slice  “my dream girl had vanished but what I don’t get is I don’t remember going home with anyone but I also don’t remember anyone going home with Y/n., it’s weird.”

“Do you know what’s weird?” Yuta huffed “I never offered you my pizza?”

“Dude no we are talking about me and my problems right now, who did she go home with, she got pregnant and I don’t know who this guy is, was she seeing someone?” Hoseok turned to Yuta and asked, “how long has she been lying to me?”

“Maybe you went home together and had sex with her, maybe you’re the father?” Yuta laughed, slapping Hoseok's arm. “Heaven knows you are both in love with one another”

“No, that’s crazy. I would know if it was Y/n, this girl she was different and amazing.” Hoseok dropped another crust into the box and when he reached for another slice Yuta snapped the lid closed. 

“Get out, I am not here to give you free pizza,” He huffed, shooing Hoseok who laughed and hopped out of reach “Whatever it is, you need to talk to her tomorrow about it, tell her to just come clean and you will trust her”

Hoseok nodded waving goodbye heading back to his rundown apartment, he stopped at your door and wondered if you were still sleeping. Wondered what you were thinking. He had kissed you, felt the baby move in your belly and he wanted nothing more than for it to be him that you were with.

If Hoseok was the father he would be there, he would step up. He wouldn’t let you fend for yourself. He loved you and he would give up on his dream girl to be with you. Maybe that’s what he would do, he would step up, if this baby daddy wouldn’t be there for you then he would. He would step up and help you because that’s what best friends are for.

Hoseok woke to a knock at the door and for just a second, things were back to the way they had been before you were pregnant. He checked his phone making sure he wasn’t late for work and saw a message from you asking if he got home alright giving the cold wash of reality and a message from his phone.

Storage full!

You can free up space on this phone by managing your storage in settings.

He sighed, throwing on some pants and heading to the door. He threw open the door expecting you with some breakfast and coffee but instead he saw Seokjin standing there in all his handsome fat lip glory.

Hoseok remembered what he had done that night and bit his lip trying to hold back a laugh. Seokjin saw his face contorted and smacked him on the arm. “Don’t you dare laugh at me, this face is priceless, a rare beauty that you decided to hit last night.”

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok said the words squeaked from his chest as he suppressed the laughter inside. He honestly didn’t think the older gentleman’s lips could get any bigger, “Come in,”

“I even brought you breakfast and you are making fun of me,” Seokjin sat handing him a coffee and a breakfast burger. “You have a lot to answer for coming into my bar and punching me in the face.”

“I am sorry,” Hoseok meant this sincerely and it was reflected in his tone that all joking was pushed aside, he felt bad for his actions and Seokjin got caught up in all of this. “I just thought you were the father and you were cheating on Y/n and I don’t know I just got so angry and I hit you and I am sorry”

“You like her I get it and if any of us saw her baby daddy kissing another woman we would punch him in the face, so for that, you are forgiven and I thank you for apologizing.” Seokjin began eating wincing when he tried to take a big bite of his breakfast burger. “You need to talk to her about everything”

“I know Yuta said the same thing last night,” Hoseok said, he scratched his bare chest and took a sip of coffee to wash down the food. “But I thought about it all night and I have decided it doesn’t matter?”

“What?” Seokjin was stunned, this man who was in love with you just didn’t care anymore, “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?”

“Well, If the father of this child wanted to be a part of this he would be there, but he isn’t. I haven’t seen anyone stepping up, so I will be there for her, I will take on the responsibilities just like a real dad would. It doesn’t matter who the father is because I will be there for her and this child.

“Well, I am glad,” Seokjin smiled scrunching up his rubbish and dropping it into the bin, “You should still talk to her, it’s important that you let her know that you are going to be there for her no matter what and that she can be open and honest about everything”

“Of course, I will head over now,” Hoseok smiled unlocking his phone to send you a quick message saying he is coming over when the stupid message appeared again. 

Storage full!

You can free up space on this phone by managing your blah blah blah.

“I will make room later.”

Seokjin was at the door when he stopped at the threshold. “If you punch me in the face again, you will never step foot in my bar again. Got it.”

“Got it!” Hoseok saluted with a bright grin. 

Hoseok raced around the apartment getting dressed before heading out the front door to the bus stop. Whilst riding the bus he checked his emails trying to ignore the full storage message 

Storage full!

You can free up space blah blah blah something something settings.

and found a response about a vehicle, he booked a time to see the vehicle and thought he would stop in before making it to yours. 

It was a bit of a rush and the vehicle wasn’t the best, he almost made the deal when he received a phone call, excusing himself he answered with his usual business tone, thankfully he did as it was a response back from one of the jobs he applied for, the asked if he could start on the following Monday and he was so excited, it was a full time job that paid sick leave.

He apologized to the young man and the rusted heap of junk that he was about to call a vehicle and raced off, he wanted to see you and tell you the good news. He was stepping up, he would be there for you, help provide for you.

Hoseok took the next bus to your house and knocked on the door, he opened it to see you all dressed up cute in a pair of maternity jeans and a babydoll shirt. Hoseok wondered how you got more beautiful every day, pregnancy made you glow.

“Hey,” Hoseok stepped in, his excitement bubbling, “I got a job, an office job, it’s full time and it pays sick leave and I am growing up and being an adult.”

“That’s great!” You smiled happy that he was happy but concerned about his job of choice he hated office jobs, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I am sure, I thought about it after punching Jin last night that I should really start to live my life like an adult.” Hoseok smiled

“You punched Jin, Why?” You shrieked worried about the man who had been posing as your baby daddy.

“Well, he was kissing another girl on the dance floor and I thought he was cheating, but he said he wasn’t really the father and Y/n I want you to know. I don’t care who the father is, you are my best friend and I am here for you and if you don’t want to tell me then that is okay, but know that I am here for you and you can tell me the truth and I would never judge.”

“I know that Hoseok, I just got scared it was a big thing and I was worried how you would react, I mean we tell each other everything but even this was a big deal” You licked your lips taking his hands, “I think I am ready to tell you-”

Your phone started ringing ruining the moment and you answered confused, “Good morning this is Y/n speaking how can I help you?”

“Hello Miss Y/n, This is Miss Cho from the Prenatal clinic, I am just confirming that you are coming to your ultrasound at 11:30 today?” The woman’s voice was professional and you realized you had forgotten entirely about the appointment.

“Of course, we will be there at 11:30,” You smiled checking the time, you had an hour and a half till the appointment that was plenty of time. You hung up and told Hoseok that you had an appointment and he seemed nervous but he volunteered to accompany you.

The clinic was small and complete with anatomical posters of the baby laying in the womb and breast tissue and hoseok tried not to look at anything or anyone which wasn’t really working. 

“Your first time here?” An older gentleman asked, “you look nervous son just relax soon you're going to see your little one and it’s going to be magical.”

You took Hoseok's hand and tried to soothe his nerves and the two of you discussed random topics mostly about food as it was getting closer to lunch. 

“Perhaps we can get something to eat after this, what would you like?” Hoseok smiled 

“Mm chicken” you grinned thinking about how you couldn’t even enjoy beer with it. 

“Chicken it is,” Hoseok smiled, you felt at ease when he smiled, the lady called your name and you took Hoseok's hand and guided him into the room. 

Hoseok was blushing as people saw you holding hands going to see the doctor together. They must think you two are together. 

“Hello miss Y/n and is this the baby daddy?” The woman smiled at Hoseok and you laughed almost agreeing with her when Hoseok interrupted. 

“No, I'm her best friend?” Hoseok smiled patting your hand, he felt proud that this woman and the man in the waiting room even thought he was the father “we are going to do an ultrasound today let’s get you ready”

Hoseok watched the woman scan your stomach and he heard the heartbeat feeling his heart warm at the sound of a little baby that you had made. He would love this child as if it were his own. 

You watched him almost tear up and the woman spoke, “Your baby seems really well developed, how far along are you now?”

“Uh, about six months now,” You said, checking off the months on your fingers, Hoseok nodded along as the Nurse told you the baby was perfectly healthy and was average for it’s gestational age.

“would you like to know the baby's gender?”

“Yes, please, can you record it Hobi?” you said excitedly to know more about your unborn child. The woman waited while Hoseok tried to work his phone only to see the persistent alert and he frowned.

Storage full!

Storage full!

Storage…! Storage…! Storage…!

Come on damn it this was an important moment, sighing and taking your phone Hoseok used it to record instead. The woman turned the screen to you both. 

“It’s a little baby girl” she spoke and you looked up at Hoseok who was tearing up and you laughed trying to wipe your eyes . 

“You're having a baby girl!” He shouted excitedly through the tears and pressed his lips to yours. 

It was a beautiful moment that quickly turned awkward and you pulled away almost instantly. Hoseok stopped recording and the nurse gave a knowing chuckle. 

“I will give you two a moment while I get you a picture of your little girl to take home” she smiled shutting the door. 

“Sorry I got so carried away and excited,” Hoseok smiled the smile hadn’t left his face “I can’t believe it a little girl”

You watched Hoseok wipe his tears, the woman came back in handing over the photo. Hoseok snatched up the photo, fawning over the tiny baby captured on film. 

“Come on momma, we have to feed the little little darling, she needs to eat?” Hoseok pulled you off the table onto your feet not noticing how close he held you, your rounded tummy pressed against him. 

“What about me, I want to eat too?” You pouted feeling like Hoseok had replaced you, but you had little time to think as he tucked some stray hair behind your ear.

“What does my little darling and little little darling feel like eating?” His gaze was soft, his hands restless holding yours and massaging your palms affectionately. “What is darling momma craving? Do you still want chicken?”

If this man was any cuter you would melt, with Seokjin it was nice but he was very business. Have you eaten? Here is some nutritional food and make sure you rest. Whilst with Hoseok it was how are you feeling? What do you want to eat? It felt like he was here because he wanted to be not because he had to be.

“I really want seaweed soup,” You began, he seemed to nod contemplating where exactly you could get seaweed soup for lunch. It was an afterthought that made you continue “And bacon with peanut butter and sweet potato and watermelon and-”

“Woah woah woah, why do I feel like this is going to hurt my bank account?” Hoseok said cheekily. Slapping his arm you walked out dragging him, from the clinic making sure to wave goodbye to the reception.

“You suggested it so you front the bill, Hobi” You laughed, “Come on, I will settle for anything right now I am hungry.”

“Come on we can’t have darling momma and her baby starving to death,” Hoseok waved down a taxi, he went to help you into the vehicle but when he turned he saw you crying, clutching your stomach. It was like all the blood left his body and he was left with the cold sick feeling. “What is it, What’s wrong are you in pain?”

“You said we would starve to death!” You accused him, you knew it was irrational but you had just seen your baby girl and even joking about death was off limits things were too fragile right now and your hormones were all over the place.

“No, no no no” Hoseok reiterated quickly, “that’s not what I meant, it was just a dumb figure of speech, I would never and I mean never let you and your baby starve listen to me I would feed you my left leg before I even think about letting that happen.” 

“I don’t think you would taste good” You frowned, nauseous at the thought, pregnancy was such a miracle, between the mood swings cravings and the urge to upchuck every so often it was “I know exactly where you have been” 

He laughed, “Come on, I will take care of you, let’s eat everything you want”

Jumping excitedly you climbed into the taxi and the two of you sped through the city to a nice quiet restaurant, it was beautiful the aesthetic was nature and you were happy looking at the pretty flowers.

The two of you laughed and ate excitedly the old lady who worked there gave you some team with a hint of ginger to help with nausea. “You are a cute couple, you will make wonderful parents.”

“Thank you Auntie,” Hoseok smiled, taking your hand and kissing it, “We just found out today that it’s a little girl.”

“Oh that is wonderful, a man like you will have to protect your girls now,” The woman teased, making Hoseok puff his chest proudly raising his hands in a karate chop motion, “I won’t let anything hurt them.”

“You two take care now,” The woman smiled letting you both go, filling your hands with a few bags of goodies.

You were walking to the bus stop when you stopped out the front of a tiny boutique, there were a few baby clothes inside in pastel shades. You were frozen outside and Hoseok smiled, “We can go in and look around, if you want,”

You were about to protest when Hoseok continued slipping his hand into yours, “Come on, it won't be scary we will just look around”

His gentle tug on your hand was the only thing that got you into the store, for some reason each new milestone made this baby feel more and more real, and less like a concept. You had set up the nursery and now you were going to buy clothes for your baby girl that you will be having in approximately three months.

You remembered trying to deny it all, even postponing making the nursery but here you were getting increasingly nervous and excited. Every night you rubbed your belly whispering to the baby inside about how you couldn’t wait to meet them but how you were still learning and you loved them.

Pressing your hand to your stomach, you push back the emotions. Trying not to think about anything that could make you anymore emotional in public. “This one is cute, look at the little frills”

Hoseok held a very tiny suit in his hands and you thought about the small person who would fit in his hands and blinked back the tears. This was so much at once but you couldn’t back away, you had to face it, like ripping off a bandaid, even if it stung or was overwhelming it was better to get it done quickly.

“The Nursery is white and grey. What colours were you thinking to add to it, maybe pink rattles?” He suggested holding said items, “Fluffy yellow socks?”

“Green,”

“I love green,” Hoseok added excited about the idea of using his favourite colour, “what kind of green?”

“I thought maybe a soft mint green, mint green light grey and white, an easy colour scheme” Your voice strained the emotions bleeding through into your words as you took a small suit from the shelf. Imagining your little girl wiggling in the suit with her little legs and arms and her squishy face. “Hoseok”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he grabbed your face, “What has you upset again little darling?”

“The baby is going to be so small and I don’t know if I can do this, I am trying but maybe my mother was right, I am not ready and-”

“Your mother is a rotten old woman, you are going to do great, because you are tough, because you are trying your best, because you have a heart of gold and because I will be there with you every step of the way holding your hand” Hoseok assured you “I am going to be there”

“This one is very cute, how about we buy it and call it a day, you have had a lot of excitement today and I think we take small steps not giant leaps.”

“Hoseok, I got, this flyer for a baby class, they teach you about the birth and hospital bags and what to do if the baby is born early and how to give the babies first bath and well, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me cause you know dad’s usually go but well your the closest thing I have to a man in my life and I would be ever so grateful”

“Have you finished rambling?” You nodded sighing, Hoseok was giving you a look that said you were overthinking everything. “I would love to go”

You smiled “It is every sunday afternoon at five to eight, so if you can’t make it tomorrow we can try for the next one”

“I will be there.” Hoseok smiled and the two of you headed home Hoseok carried the free snacks from the old lady at the restaurant and you cradled the tiny paper bag from the baby boutique with the tiny mint green suit with the frills.

Once at your house Hoseok stopped you at the front door, “Listen to me whenever you start to panic or freak out, remember twenty-five years can’t be erased that easily” He moved your shirt to show your collarbone tattoo caressing it with his thumb “I won’t just leave, I promise you, okay?”

“Okay, Hobi” You agreed with his statement. Feeling a little reassured by his declaration, he was right. You had twenty-five years and when you tell him, he will understand and everything will be okay.

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[footballfanfictions]

The thrill of the chase - Chapter One

Pairings: Mason Mount/OC, Ben Chilwell/OC

Warnings: None for now but you know me, I like a little smut here and there...

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

"If I have to edit and upload one more post about golden boy, I'm going to scream" I groaned, rubbing my temples. It's not even 10am on Monday morning and I already want to quit my job.

Brianna is sat on a chair, flipping through a magazine opposite my desk, and although her job doesn't require her to be in an office, she spends most of her time here.

"At least your job involves more than just washing and folding sweaty socks with your dad." She mused.

I rolled my eyes at her. She didn't quite get how annoying it is to be a graphic designer and social media manager that is only given the same images to work with over and over. My eyes flick back to my computer screen and the grinning Male on it. He isn't completely unattractive but him being a footballer and what all the praise he has been getting lately must be doing to his ego was enough to put me off. I would go as far as to say I disliked the guy.

"So if you don't like Mason, who do you watch from this window?" Bri was suddenly up on her feet and standing at my office window. It was floor to ceiling and had a good view of the training complex and sliding door access. The office had used to belong to Jose Mourinho both times he had been the manager here, shunning the actual managers office for one where he could see the pitches clearer. The first team trained about 5ft from where she was standing and if one of them were to look up from their drills they would see her staring out at them.

I pulled her away from the window by her arm.

"I don't sit here looking out of the window all the time, I have a job to do"

Occasionally, if I was on a particularly boring phone call I would let my eyes wander over to the window just to see what they were up to, but never watched any one player in particular. I didn't even know who some of the new faces were.

"Personally I think all the ones around our age are really hot -" Bri then started listing the names off and it sounded like she named the entire 23 man squad by the time she was finished.

We were then interrupted by a knock on my office door and Bri's father Dave stuck his head round it and said "sorry to interrupt girls but Bri and I have some kits to organise." He looked more amused than angry, being pretty used to his daughter avoiding her duties by now. "You wouldn't mind bringing us two of those fancy coffees of yours would you Katie?" He asked.

One of the other perks of having Jose's old office was the coffee machine. He had it installed and compared to the muck that came out of the cafeteria's coffee machines, it produced gold.

"Will do." I replied as Bri scurried over to her father and out of the door.

I decided coffee delivery was a good way to get out of having to stare at all the social media channels for a few minutes.

Once the coffees were made I tipped them from the plastic cups into two mugs from the cupboard beneath the machine, it felt nicer to take them to my friend and her dad that way.

It was tricky negotiating opening my office door with each hand occupied by a steaming hot mug, but I managed to nudge it open with a combination of my elbow and the heel of my shoe. I was just praising myself internally for getting the door open when something knocked into the side of me, tipping the contents of the mug into my right hand over whatever it had been.

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry."

I looked up from the hallway carpet which I was worried was stained with coffee, into the smiling face of someone wearing a training kit.

"No that was me, shit sorry. Have I just poured boiling hot coffee all over the star striker or something? Marina will kill me." I put both of the mugs down on the floor and ran back into my office, coming back out a few seconds later with a wad of tissues. I tried to dab the stain on his top with the tissues but they were pretty useless and he knew it too because he put his hand over mine to stop me.

"Don't worry about it love, I'm not star striker, I'm just the left back."

He didn’t seem mad about having coffee thrown all over him. Being a footballer I was half expecting him to throw a fit and go all ‘do you know who I am?’. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave me the nicest smile.

“Please let me get you another training shirt at least? I was just heading to the kit room with the coffees.” I balled up the wad of tissues and put them in the bin in the hallway just to the side of us and picked the mug that I hadn’t dropped back up. Brianna would have to go without and it served her right really for avoiding her job for most of the morning.

“Alright then.” He agreed. “Lead the way, I haven’t been here long, so not sure where to go if I’m honest.”

“Oh right yeah, of course.” I pretended like I knew who he was and that he had only just signed, unsure of whether he could actually tell that I had no idea. He probably did know that as I asked if he was the star striker, when in fact he’s a left back.

He followed me silently down the corridor to the kit room. I knocked once before entering.

“Is that you Katie?” Dave called from inside.

“No, it’s Starbucks” I laughed.

He opened the door, a pair of socks slung over his shoulder.

“Cheers love, come in.” He said.

I looked back at the footballer behind me and gestured for him to follow.

“I had a bit of an accident on the way here Dave and ended up pouring Brianna’s all over…” I was about to ask his name when Dave cut me off.

“Ben Chilwell! I was so chuffed that you’d signed. It’s about time we got an English core to this team back. God Katie did do a number on your shirt didn’t she?” he laughed, clapping Ben on the back, before he went over to a stack of the blue and white training tops.

Ben. Yeah he looked like a Ben. Undeniably he was quite handsome. I saw Brianna out of the corner of my eye, she was sat gawping at him with her mouth half open.

I tried to gesture to Brianna that she needed to put her tongue back in her mouth. She seemed to get the hit and straightened the way she was sat, playing it cool. I tried not to laugh.

Dave passed Ben a fresh shirt, and I got a whiff of the freshly laundered scent as it passed in front of me.

“Thank you so much.” Ben said, accepting the new shirt gratefully. “I’ll try my best to watch where I’m going in the future.”

He gave us all a smile and apologetically said that he needed to get back to training before he left the kit room.

“Blimey!” Brianna sighed once he was gone.

“What?” I asked.

“Sorry that you have to hear this dad, but bloody hell he was fit. I’m disappointed that he didn’t want to change here.” we both started laughing and Dave shook his head, muttering a ‘you two’ under his breath before going back to matching the socks up.

“I’m going to go too, do you want to get lunch later Bri?” I asked, hoping that she would want to walk to the shops with me. I needed a few things and I wouldn’t have much time after work to go.

“Only if we’re getting it here because I want to be in the canteen when they all come in from training.” she was gazing toward the tiny window in the kit room dreamily as she spoke.

I rolled my eyes but agreed.

I spent the walk back to my office wondering if Ben Chilwell actually was as fit as Brianna was making him out to be.

Sitting back down at my desk, I logged back into my computer. I had new emails sat in the inbox. One of them happened to be pictures of the new players for me to edit. I had an edit of every player in the team that I had ready for match days. On a match day I would be in charge of adding time stamps for any goals and then uploading the goal scorer’s picture. Recently, more often than not I had been having to upload the same few pictures of Mason Mount and it was getting a bit boring. The fans loved it though, he was our most retweeted player and often I would read the social media comments, all singing his praises. Especially the young women.

———————————————————————————————————

By the time it got to lunchtime I was sick of photoshop. My program wasn’t running very smoothly, probably in need of an update and I had grown more and more frustrated as the morning went on, having to restart it twice.

Brianna came to my office just before 1 and waited for me to finish off my last edit and lock my computer.

“Good morning?” she asked. “Because no offence you look mega stressed and we don’t need that kind of vibe if we are going to be around fit footballers for the next hour.”

I wanted to eye roll for the millionth time but I cut her some slack. She had recently had a really bad break up and her ex had been a proper bellend. Unfortunately for Bri, she didn’t have the greatest amount of luck when it came to guys. Her ex had broken up with her for another girl and had then continued to hook up with Bri, who had stupidly let him until I had convinced her what a bad idea that was. She was clearly feeling really lonely.

“Someone will come along you know, it doesn’t have to be a footballer.” I said, putting my hand on her arm and squeezing reassuringly.

“But Liam supports Chelsea, so how mad would he be if I got off with one of his favourite players? He’d be begging me to take him back then.” she smirked.

“That’s not what you want though right? To get back with him I mean.” I opened the door and we started to walk down the hallway towards the canteen while we chatted.

“No, I just want him to feel the sting of rejection and know how it feels for once.” she shrugged.

When we reached the door to the canteen there was a young lad with mousey brown hair kind of hanging around. His face lit up at the sight of us and I was slightly taken aback by it.

“After you.” He said, opening the door for us. He had a really strong Scottish accent that I hadn’t heard before. I guessed he must be part of the youth team. He’d probably end up out on loan after loan and we’d never see him again.

“That was strange.” I mumbled to Bri.

She shrugged, walking over to the back of the queue to get food. I followed her and grabbed a tray for myself.

I reached into the chilled drinks cabinet and picked out an iced coffee placing it on my tray.

“Glad to see that isn’t a hot coffee!”

Turning my head to the side, I saw that it was Ben again, standing behind me in the queue and then just behind him, my favourite person of all, Mason Mount.

“Yeah I’m on a final warning about spilling hot drinks over footballers so I’m only allowed cold coffees from now on”. I joked.

“I’m sure Benj will keep you warm in the winter.” Mason piped up.

I tried not to curse under my breath that he was butting into our conversation.

“Mate.” Ben said to Mason, shaking his head.

“What? she is fitter than you said.” Mason bantered back, looking at me rather than Ben.

“Thanks but I don’t need validation from you.” I bantered back, before moving along to the next chiller and picking out a caesar salad and an apple.

I heard the word “feisty” from behind me, but couldn’t tell which one of them had said it as I caught Brianna up in the queue.

She gave me a puzzled look and I shrugged, simply mouthing the word ‘boys’.

As employees we didn’t have to pay for any of our food which was a nice perk of the job and saved me a lot of money in eating out and packed lunches.

We took our food over to one of the tables that we usually sat at whenever we used the canteen and we were joined as usual by some of the other members of support staff.

Brianna was filling them in on my mishap with the coffee that morning while I scrolled through twitter on my phone. I liked to check how our social media platforms looked from the perspective fo the intended audience.

“You’re such a workaholic” Bri scolded me.

I looked up and apologised, tucking my phone away into my pocket.

“You two are polar opposites” Jane, one of the physios said. “I do agree with Brianna to an extent about some of the new faces. If I were a few years younger…”

Jane was a bit like our work mother. She was in her mid 50s and happily married with two teenage boys of her own to contend with. Because she had never had any daughters, she took particular care of me and Bri and loved to join in with our girl talk.

“I don’t think it would be worth the hassle personally” I shrugged.

Jane grinned. “You’re so sensible Katie, and probably right. Young men with too much fame and money probably don’t make the best partners. I tried to say that about my Martin too, back in the day. He was in the army and you know what they say about them!”

We both looked at her waiting for her to give us the answer.

“You know, a girl in every base town.” she laughed. “I tamed him though. Maybe don’t write them off completely.”

I wasn’t sure that I wanted to attempt to find a partner at all. I had been single since things that fallen apart with my ex when we both left uni. At uni we had a lot more time for each other, despite the different schedules and studying. When I had started working for Chelsea I put everything that I had into my job, desperately wanting to make a good impression. Hundreds of people had applied for the position and I wanted to make them feel like they had made the right choice in hiring me. So long days in the office turned into long days and evenings in the office, especially when Chelsea had late kick offs. I just found it easier to be in my office with the radio commentary on, sending out the tweets as the goals went in.

“Katie, are you listening? You zoned out a bit again.” Jane said, waving her hand in front of my face.

“Sorry just thinking about my to do list” I mumbled, trying not to admit to them that I had been thinking about Rory again. Sometimes it isn’t the person that you miss, just the feeling of having someone.

“I was just making you aware that are three young men constantly looking over here.” she said, trying to keep her voice low.

I was curious so I looked, there were a few of them sat at the furthest table, but none of them were looking in our direction.

“Who?” I asked.

“Oh I don’t know the names, I just deal with the injuries.” she shrugged.

“Well that’s helpful then” Bri said, pouting. “I wanted to know which ones fancied me so that I could target my flirting.”

———————————————————————————————————

Ben

“Go and talk to her.” Mason encouraged me.

I shook my head, trying to focus on eating my food, although I hadn’t really been able to. I had just been using my fork to move it around my plate aimlessly.

“No.” I mumbled. “I barely even know the girl. She spilt her coffee on me then got me another training shirt.”

“Oh yeah.” Mason smirked. “Did she help you put it on too?”

“She got you a new training shirt?” It was Billy that spoke now. He looked really nervous and was pretty much doing the same as me, forking his food around rather than actually eating it.

“Yeah from that room with all the kits in” I responded.

“Oh.” he said quietly, looking down.

I caught on then. Billy had been ahead of us coming off the training pitch and I had seen him wait and then open the door for the girls with a big grin on his face. I had thought he was just being polite, but I now realised it was more than that. He had waited on purpose and obviously liked one of them.

“It was the brunette one. The little blonde was in the room too but it wasn’t here that me and Mase were talking about” as I explained I watched Billy brighten back up again. It was the other one that he fancied, not Katie, and for some reason I was relieved.

Mason caught on then too.

“Hang on, do you like that one or something? The kit man’s daughter?” Mason asked him.

He had raised his voice a bit in excitement so I gestured for him to speak quieter.

“Yeah only for the last few years, you know.” Billy responded, blushing a bit.

Mason would probably take the piss out of him for the rest of the afternoon and god forbid if Tammy or Jorginho found out, poor Billy would absolutely never hear the end of it.

“Have you ever tried to tell her?” I asked him.

“Only once, but I chickened out because I heard she had a fella” he shrugged.

“When was that?” I pressed.

“Couple of years ago, but then I kept being sent out on loan so couldnae’ really have asked her out any way” he sighed and put his fork down at the side of his plate.

I decided then that I was going to make it my mission to get Billy to ask that girl out. The worst she could say was no and he wouldn’t be any worse off than he was now. I could even use it to my advantage and casually speak to Katie about the two of them.

I looked over at her table again, she looked a little sad.

I had promised myself that I would focus on my career for a bit and not get involved with any girls for a bit, but here I was on day bloody one simping over a girl I’d only just met. I cursed myself for it.

[sunshineandlov]

Present - Shigaraki x reader (birthday special)

Word count: 1,243

Warning: possible death in the beginning (honestly up to reader interpretation)

A/n: This is my second fic for Shigaraki’s birthday celebration. This was actually really fun to write. Fun fact, the inspiration for this comes from a whole truck of amiibo splatoons being stolen in 2015.

-

Destruction filled the night street. The sound of crumbling concrete and shattering glass was music to Shigaraki’s ears. The new Nomu tore anything and everything near with its enlarged claws, just as it had been instructed.

The villain smirked behind Father. The Nomu was performing well. Large claws protruding from its knuckles, great strength and speed. The only foreseeable problem was its slow reaction time and inability to move silently. Not ideal for a stealth mission, but good for brute force attacks.

Bright lights began to approach, hitting the Nomu’s black skin. A long white truck rolled closer and closer. Oblivious to the creature the same color as the road. Until it was too late.

Screeeeeeee!

The tires burned against the road. Whoever was driving swerved to miss the Nomu, but wasn't quick enough. The right side of the truck collided with the Nomu’s shoulder. It barely turned in time to see the rapidly approaching headlights before the collision. It was only knocked off balance while the truck's rear slide left until it hit the wall by the road.

The Nomu slowly turned and let out an enraged scream. It punched and tore at the truck. Digging and tearing, until its claw got caught in the back door of the trailer of the truck. The Nomu flung its arm in an attempt to get it off. Tug, tug, and pull! And finally the Nomu's claws were free, causing the vehicle to go flying onto the other side of the road. The blaring of an alarm sounded from the truck as it lay unoperational.

The heroes were coming. It would be one thing to stay, and let the Nomu curb stomp the heroes. But he wasn’t entirely sure of this Nomu’s strength yet, nor was he sure of just how many heroes were coming. No. It would be much more satisfying if he and the Nomu got away before the heroes could even arrive. How pathetic the heroes would look, and how frustrated and useless they would feel, if the villains escaped before they could even get there? Leaving behind only destruction. A sign of the devastation they could bring if they truly wanted to.

“Time to go back,” he beckoned the Nomu, slowly walking towards it.

If asked, he would have said that he did that so the Nomu could hear him. In all honesty, he really wanted to see the damage it caused up close. The tears it made in the truck. How fragile the whole city really was. How flawed the heroes truly were.

“And make it be quiet, it’s annoying me,” he added.

Without hesitation, the Nomu tore into the vehicle, until the noise suddenly stopped. As he stood there, he glanced over the damage that had been done.

The back door hatch had been torn off, leaving the battered trailer door hanging open. On a whim, he peered inside. A lot of the packages seemed damaged, one was torn open. He wandered into the truck, disintegrating the door on the way in, and he stared into the torn box. He tilted his head. It was hard to tell in the street light, but it looked like a new console. One he had wanted for a while.

He picked up the box with four fingers. He held it up, adjusting to see it better. Not just a console, but a video game too. One that he also wanted. The console didn’t even look like it was very damaged. At least the people packing knew how to do their job. He stared at it. Then walked away, carrying it under his arm.

“You gotta be kidding me!” you said involuntarily.

You stared at your phone and the email displayed on it.

“We regret to inform you that the delivery truck containing your package was intercepted in a villain attack. Your package cannot be found. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

You let out a long, frustrated sigh. “I was only trying to do something nice. Why?” you whined. “Those weren’t cheap either. Who knew that the video game, not just the console, could be so expensive?”

You had wanted to be nice and get something for Shigaraki, something he mentioned before when you were talking. He seemed more stressed and tense lately and you thought it would help him calm down. But now you wouldn’t know because some jerk stole it. The more you thought about it, the more angry and tired it made you.

Earlier when the package hadn’t come like you were told, you just assumed it was late and thought nothing of it. Now that you were fuming and frustrated that some villain stole Shigaraki’s gift, you almost wanted to just stay home. But you were only a block away from the bar, and you didn’t feel like getting this far to turn back.

You walked into the villain hangout. You took a seat at the bar. The temptation to mope got the best of you. You sighed, hit your head onto the table, and banged your fist on it.

Shigaraki took note of your behavior. “Is everything alright?”

“No!” You let out a long, frustrated breath. “I bought a brand new console and video game for you. And now I learn that some bozo stole it! I’m sorry.”

“What?!” he said. Angry that someone stole his present, and confused that you got something for him. “For me?”

“Yes,” your voice came out a combination of a groan and whine. “It was a video game console, and it wasn’t cheap.”

“When was it stolen?” he asked, half considering hunting this person down until he got it back.

“Two nights ago.”

Shigaraki paused in thought. The same night he tested out the Nomu.

“It was the newest one too. And I got a video game you mentioned along with it.”

Shigaraki froze. He quickly pulled out his phone and typed something in. "Was this the game?" He showed an online picture of it.

"Yeah! How did you know?"

"Because," he walked off before finishing his sentence. You waited for him, and he came back with a console and game that looked suspiciously like the ones you ordered. "I might already got them."

“What!?" You looked more closely. "Is this really it?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Get the box.”

Within a moment, you were both examining the cardboard box. You looked down at the tag and there it was. Your name and address displayed on the mangled box.

"I can’t believe it. You stole the present that I bought for you." Your attempts to stifle your laughs weakened. Thank goodness that had been the case.

"Why did you get it?"

"Because I wanted to? And you seemed more stressed."

"Are you sure it wasn't a birthday present?" He interrogated.

"No, I don't even know when your birthday is."

"Two days ago."

“Oh.” You laughed. “That was lucky. You actually got something on your birthday.”

“I still don’t know how you did that when you didn’t know.”

“Me neither.” You shook your head as your laughter died down. “You think I could borrow it sometime?” It was a joke, but you were partly serious, wondering if he actually would.

He didn’t answer.

“Shigaraki?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on! I bought it for you. And I promise I could beat you in that game if you let me.”

He considered it. “Maybe. But only on multiplayer when you're playing with me.”

“Deal!”

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Ch. 15

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter Summary: Your attempt to help your brother move result in Yoongi meeting your family -_- 

Previous Chapter here 

TW: as previously mentioned, YN and her brother were abused by their dad. It is mentioned by her brother. Trigger will be labeled before and after by **  ** Yoongi’ song “The Last” is also referenced at the very end, which implies thoughts about self-harm/suicide attempt. But it’s a good, long chapter! There is fluff and humor in it too!

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

Late last night you received an email from your brother’s school informing you a dorm space had opened up and he could move in as soon as possible. You wanted to check and make sure there wasn’t anything else you should be doing today before you rented a van.  

You put on your robe and headed out to the main living area. Half the coffee pot was already gone and you heard light movements from upstairs. You wondered if Yoongi was prone to hangovers or not.  You poured yourself a cup of coffee and heard Yoongi pad down the stairs. 

“How are you feeling today?” You asked without looking up from your steaming mug.

“A little dehydrated but fine.” He passed you as he headed over to the sink for water. “Really? We’re just wearing robes around the house now?” 

You waited, slowly savoring the taste of the hot bean water in your mouth. You swallowed. “You were in your underwear the other day. I think the robe is fine.” You turned dramatically and looked at him.  “Unless you prefer just underwear?” 

“Aish, don't remind me.” He waved in your direction as though he could dissipate the memory with his hand. It was too early for flirting.

You laughed. “Hey, if it's OK, I'd like to go help my brother move today. A dorm space opened up for him and I'd like to get him settled in before school starts again tomorrow.”

Yoongi leaned against the counter, “Yeah, that's fine. You should do that.” 

“Great,  thanks!” You turned and went back to the bedroom to get dressed. 

When you returned to the main area Yoongi was gone, you didn’t bother checking by the door as you grabbed your purse and slipped on some shoes. You texted your brother to remind him what time you would arrive and then hopped on the train to the car rental place.

Fifteen minutes later you walked in, produced your driver’s license and payment and were then declined. 

“What do you mean? I already prepaid online.” You asked the attendant. 

“It’s not the payment, it’s your license. You rented the cargo van. You don’t have a license to drive that vehicle, it’s level one.” The man explained, gesturing to a garage full of vehicles as though that explained anything.

“Isn’t it just like a regular van but big?”

“No ma’am it’s more like a box truck. I can get you a regular van but I can’t refund your rental of the cargo van because it was a day-of rental.”

“I had to enter my license to rent the van. Why does it authorize licenses if they aren’t the correct type?” You asked, annoyed. It wasn’t his fault, probably, but that definitely seemed like a crappy thing for the website to allow.

“I understand that ma’am but the website will allow anybody to pay for the van and the driver’s license check is very basic and checks to see if you have one, not the level. Now, would you like to rent a regular van?”

You stood there for a minute weighing your options. “Give me a minute.” You walked over to the waiting area and took out your phone. You opened the BigHit employee portal and scrolled through the services. There were so many options: food delivery, laundry pick up, chauffeur, pet walking, but nothing about hiring a driver for other vehicles. You groaned and dialed Yoongi’s number. Normally you would text but you felt like there was too much to say. The phone rang a few times.

“Hello?” It was surprising to you how deep his voice sounded on the phone.

“Hey...I'm sorry to bother you. Does anybody at the company have a Level 1 driver's license that I can like request via the app? I didn't realize the one I rented is for a license I don't have.” You paused. “This is so embarrassing.” Silence extended from the other side, making you feel awful, like you had probably interrupted something important.  You began again, " I can maybe just do it next weekend. I can find somebody by then I'm sure. It’s fine. What’s one more week.”

"I can drive it." 

You felt awkward having Yoongi do it."Noooo. Don't worry about it. I can do it next week. I’m sure I can find somebody.” 

“Aish send me the address. I'll do it.” He replied, starting to sound irritated.

“Were you busy? You don't have to.”

“You know the company phones have GPS trackers in them? But it will be a hell of a lot faster if you just send me the address.”

You sighed, “Ok. Thank you.”

“See you soon.”  

You awkwardly waited at the rental agency, kicking your feet in your chair like a little kid waiting for their parents. After about half an hour you heard the door ding and saw Yoongi walk in. He had traded his sweats for jeans, but otherwise had the same casual shirt and expression. 

“Hello sir,” the desk attendant greeted Yoongi. “How may I help you today?”

“I’ve been told I’m here to drive a van.” Yoongi looked your way.

"Oh, are you here for that one?" the guy at the counter gestured at you.

Rude. 

Yoongi smirked, “Yep. That one’s mine.”

Your jaw almost dropped. Fucking brat. You walked over. "It's a good thing you're being so helpful darling." You gritted between your teeth. You watched as Yoongi handed over his license and had it scanned without any issues. 

“Here you go Mr. Min.” The attendant handed him the keys. You heard him laugh as he took them.  He started to walk out to the rental garage with you following. 

"’Thanks for coming. I do appreciate it."

"It’s no problem. I mean. You, once again, will owe me dinner. But other than that. It's nothing." He clicked the remote to find the right van. "Why are you renting such a big ass van?" 

"Because my family doesn't own a car and I'm an idiot. The website didn't make it look that big. I put in my license and it let me rent it. Don’t you think it should deny it if it knows you can’t drive it?"  The two of you stopped in front of the cargo van. It was big. But not that big, you scowled.

"Oh man. I used to drive so much music equipment around in my shit van. This brings back memories." He climbed into the driver's seat. You walked around to the passenger side and stepped up as well. "And lucky for you, I came prepared today." He popped in a CD he'd been stowing in his coat pocket. 

"Oh my God. You are the cutest." You said, somewhat accidentally, out loud. 

Yoongi paused, and looked over at you. "I am not cute." 

You smiled and pinched your fingers together. "A little bit." 

He shook his head and put his hand on the gear shift. "Nope. Cue up the GPS." 

"The tiniest cute." You typed in the address. 

"Feared rapper and music producer. Ice King. Loner. It's in the lyrics, you should listen." He turned the car audio on.

"OK cutie, I know you have stuffed animals in the loft area." 

He held a finger up to his lips. "Quiet woman, I'm driving." 

You laughed and relaxed into the seat. "I fell asleep on track 5."

He pushed some buttons and you settled in for the car ride. 

Yoongi was thankful for the excuse of looking at the road so he couldn’t see your expressions as you listened. He put so much of himself in his lyrics, it was like taking his heart and mind out of his body and showing it to other people. Which for some reason felt fine when it was complete strangers, but felt so weird with someone he knew. He tried to play it cool. He knew he was two songs away from his most personal track.

“Ok, turn in here. We can park here for up to two hours without a permit.” You guided him near an alleyway next to your Aunt’s apartment. You sent a text telling them you were here. “Thanks. You can wait here if you want. I don't know how much packing there is left to do. Sorry. I just got the email this morning. There are also some coffee shops around here or some restaurants. I’m not sure what---” 

Yoongi unbuckled his seatbelt and cut you off. “Hey. You don't have to do this by yourself. OK?” He opened the door and got out before you could respond.

You took a few deep breaths and exited the van, walking around to the front to lead the way to the apartment. “Ok thanks. Also I apologize in advance for my Aunt.”

“She won’t be the first Auntie I've met,” Yoongi smirked. “Don't worry, Aunties and Grannies love me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. Also sorry in advance for my brother. He seems rude, but it’s just because our family life was so fucked up. He’s a good kid.”

“Hey, I can relate,” Yoongi opened the door for you. “It’s fine. Really.” 

“Ack, I don’t think I can do this.” You turned and faced him.

“Do what?” Yoongi asked, perplexed.

“Have you meet my family. It’s. We’re all weirdos. The apartment is so small. It’s embarrassing. I already feel bad that you came and helped me.” You spew out everything at once, your anxiety levels suddenly spiking.

Yoongi sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “Hey. It’s fine. I was going to meet them eventually anyways right? Might as well be before the wedding,” He teased you.

You were surprised. This was the first time he had mentioned anything about the other part of your contract. It had always been you teasing him about it.

“I guess so.” You took a deep breath. “Ok. Just...please...Remember. We’ve been through a lot.” You suddenly felt so vulnerable as you pushed the elevator button. You led the way to your old apartment and unlocked the door.

“Aunt Vi, I’m here.” You yelled from the foyer as the two of you slipped your shoes off.

“Oh finally, I was getting worried, you’re over an hour late and you're usually so prompt and hello young man.” Aunt Vi stopped dead in her tracks as she arrived in front of the two of you.

“Hello. Min Yoongi, nice to meet you.” He bowed.

Your Aunt gaped like a fish for a moment and eyed you. “Yes of course, I’m Vi.. And this is…?”

“My boss, Auntie. He drove the van today. Apparently giant ass vans need a special license.” You smiled sheepishly.

“Do not use such language in front of your boss, young lady.” She scolded. 

Yoongi cleared his throat to hide a laugh. It was unusual seeing someone boss you around for a change. 

“Yes of course, sorry Auntie. I’m very sorry, Mr. Min.” 

“That’s better. Now come in. You, help Jihoon pack, Mr. Min come join me for tea.”

She turned around and you gave Yoongi a stank look while he silently laughed at you. You flipped him the middle finger while he acted offended.

Auntie Vi turned around, “That is of course if he wants some.”

The two of you pretended to be perfect angels once again, “That would be lovely Aunt Vi.” He responded, sounding like a boy scout. You rolled your eyes at him the minute your aunt turned her back. You left the two of them as they headed to the kitchen and you went to the living room.

Your brother was packing up some books into one of the boxes when you walked over.

“Hey. Make sure the books go into a few small boxes instead of one big one, or they’ll be too heavy to carry.” You said as you grabbed another empty box and started to pack some things.

“Yeah ,ok. Those other two boxes are books as well. There should be a bookcase in the dorm. I think all my friend’s rooms have one.”

“Ok great, I’ll label them.” You walked into the kitchen to grab a sharpie and briefly overheard Vi and Yoongi. Yep. She was in love, you smirked and headed back to help your brother.

You were surprised when you walked past the hallway and saw two blankets on the floor, slowly moving. You smiled and paused, “Huh. What strange moving blankets.” You heard a set of giggles and continued on your way.

Your brother and you continued to put items into boxes and the blankets continued to slowly wriggle down the hallway until they made it to the corner. Your sister and niece sat up and pressed their tiny bodies against the wall, straining to see who the mysterious voice belonged to. You looked over and smiled. 

Aunt Vi paused for a second and heard the faint sound of giggles and “shhhh”

“There better not be any little girls eavesdropping,” She said. Everyone in the apartment heard the sounds of stomping and running down the hallway, followed by a door shutting. Vi sighed and Yoongi laughed. 

You set down the roll of tape and walked back to the bedroom. "Come on out girls." You led the way for them down the hallway. They nervously stood in the kitchen in front of Yoongi and your Aunt.

“Mr. Min, this is my sister, Hayoon, and my niece, Sooah.” You introduced them as they bowed deeply, as though they had been preparing for this moment for their whole lives.

Yoongi smiled warmly at them, “It’s a pleasure to meet you ladies.” You could see your niece already blushing. These girls were boy crazy already and you were sure they would relive this moment over and over again. They managed to squeak out a “you too.” Before they looked around awkwardly about what to do next.

“Alright girls, either help move boxes or git.” You prompted them. They looked at each other and then scrambled back to the bedroom, giggling the whole way. You sighed and went back to packing. Fortunately since your brother was living on the couch, he didn’t have a lot to pack. In retrospect you probably didn’t need the van. Oh well. Better to be over prepared than underprepared, you mused. 

You walked into the kitchen, “Excuse me, may I have the keys please? It’s time to start loading.”

Yoongi stood up, “Yeah sure, let’s go.”

You looked at him, “Oh no sir. I could not expect you to carry the boxes. Keys please.” You held out your hand.

Yooongi scoffed, “I can carry boxes.”

Aunt Vi quietly cleared her throat, “That would be too much surely. Won’t you please sit down and I’ll make you some lunch.”

Ah the intersectionality of age and class rank here were making your head spin, but you knew that he couldn’t turn down lunch from your Aunt, even as she turned around and he placed the keys in your hand while making a very strange face you couldn’t quite identify. You raised your eyebrows. Taking the keys, you pulled out your phone. 

YN: She’s a good cook, don’t worry. Sorry this is taking so long.

You and your brother each grabbed some boxes and started to move them out by the elevators. After about fifteen minutes you checked your phone.

YG: I feel weird not helping 

YN: You did help, you drove the van

YG: That doesn’t count

YN: Yes it does

You returned to the apartment where you saw Yoongi had somehow inserted himself into the kitchen and was cooking alongside Aunt Vi. That’s it, you thought, she’s never going to not mention him again. You sighed. Grabbing the last few boxes you and Jihoon began to fill the elevator and slowly move the items closer and closer to the van. An hour later it was all packed up.

“How was your soup?” You asked as you came back into the apartment, ripping off your sweatshirt. You had started off cold, but were now glistening with sweat.

“Really good, thanks again Auntie,” Yoongi looked over to Vi.

“Oh please, he’s the one who ended up doing most of the cooking. Are you single Mr. Min? Are you allowed to date your employees?--------”

Oh God it was happening, you were shocked it had taken this long honestly.

“Because even though YN isn’t much to look at, she’s a very hardworking girl.”

“We gotta go. Time to leave. Is there any leftover soup for Jihoon?” You asked as you cut her off and started scrambling around the kitchen for a takeaway container.

“There’s plenty of soup, grab some for Jihoon. Not for you though, you don’t need the calories.”

Oh God she was going full blown Auntie on your ass. Help. You looked over to Yoongi, mortified, but he was just standing there, the tiniest smile playing on his lips. He briefly flicked his eyes in your direction, causing you to feel flustered.

“Anyways, you should keep her in mind. Our family is unlucky, but we do try to make up for it.”

“I have the Soup, can we please leave now?  We have to return the van.” You grabbed your purse, sweater, soup, and coat.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Yoongi said calmly. “Thank you for your hospitality Auntie. I hope to see you again soon :] .” He walked over near the door, put on his coat and took the soup from you.

“Put your coat on.” He chided

“I’m sweaty.” You responded

“You won’t be when you get back outside.”

You huffed but complied anyways. The poor man had suffered through an hour and a half of your family, you weren’t about to argue with him.

Your brother was waiting in the van with his headphones on listening to music. You climbed into the middle seat.

“Oh my God I am so sorry.” You said the minute the door closed.

“It’s fine. Like I said, not my first Auntie. She’s nice.”

“She called me ugly and told me not to eat.” You whined. “Hey...speaking of you called me ugly too the first time we met.”

Your brother took off his headphones; apparently interested in this conversation.

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck. “Did I say that to you? That doesn't seem like something I would say.”

“Well, no. But you didn’t disagree with me when I said it.” You side eyed him.

He laughed, “I think you know you’re not ugly. You don’t need me to tell you that.” He pulled out onto the main street.

“I don’t know. Having heard it every day of her life growing up, it might not be a bad thing to not say to her.” You heard Jihoon say from next to you.

You tensed up briefly. “Jihoon, it’s a joke. Everyone else at the interview was literally a supermodel. Everyone.” 

“Sorry. People calling my sister ugly doesn’t seem very funny to me.” He said and moodily turned to face the window.

This was the kind of awkward you were worried about. “Sorry. Jihoon is a little protective. Also he doesn’t understand jokes.”  You tried to lighten the mood by teasing. It did not work.

“Jokes are supposed to be funny. I understand that.” He said snidely from the passenger’s seat.

You sighed, “Anyways, thanks again for driving. You’ll turn right here and then there should be signs for the school in about 4 kilometers.”

Yoongi was very quiet. He didn’t want to piss your brother off again. You pushed play on the audio, welcoming a change of pace from the quiet. To your shock, he hit the pause button. “Let’s listen to it later.” He said quietly to you. He didn’t think the lyrics would put your brother in a better mood and he also didn’t particularly feel like sharing the vulnerable side of himself at the moment.

“Is it normal to tell someone they can’t listen to music in a car? Asking for a friend.”

“Stop being an asshole Jihoon. Mr. Min was nice enough to drive the van for us today to move you into the dorm. And to give me a job to pay for the dorm. You need to be more respectful.”  The phrase came out of your mouth before you could even stop it. It was a triggering phrase for both of you and you instantly regretted it.

**************

“Right.” Your brother said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.  “Be more respectful. Just because someone’s older than you they deserve your respect no matter what. That’s what dad always said while he was beating us, remember?”

***************

You rolled your eyes, unable to keep your cool. “Oh my God. You’re supposed to be working through this shit in therapy not in a fucking moving van with me and my boss. I am so sorry.” You said to Yoongi who was trying very hard to pretend he wasn’t in the van at that exact moment.

“I didn’t ask to be in a moving van with you and your boss and I didn’t ask to be moved into the dorms today.” He argued back. 

“You’d rather still be on the couch at Aunt Vi’s? I can unload all this shit and cancel your room. I can totally do that right now.” You snapped at him.

Jihoon huffed angrily. Such a moody teen. 

“I’ll take that as a “no”,” you responded. “Yoongi, I am so sorry.”

“For the record, does your boss know our dad's a fucking psycho?” Your brother said in English. You had done terribly in English and hadn’t touched it since High School. You understood the word Fuck though and were getting ready to scold you brother 

Yoongi didn't want to overstep his bounds, but at the same time, your brother was being a rude little shit. The whole reason you had agreed to marry a guy you didn’t know was to take care of this ungrateful child. Before he could help himself, he responded in perfect English, “Yeah, I heard you dad was an asshole. And I'm sorry that happened to you. It shouldn’t have and it really sucks. But your sister works her ass off for you.”

Yoongi was pissed. You could tell that much by the tone. You understood sister and that was about it. Or maybe he said sweater. But it was probably sister. 

Your brother was clearly surprised by whatever he heard and also mildly irritated. “What do you know about any of that?”

“I know that in her job interview all she talked about was you and your little sister and how she worries about the two of you and that’s why she took a job where she is on call 24/7 and why she’s worked 2 jobs for the past 7 years.”

You understood the number 2. That was it. This was a passionate discussion on Yoongi’s part. You were getting ready to speak after several seconds of silence filled the van. 

Your brother twisted his body and looked at Yoongi. “---Do you….do you like my sister?””

More silence. What the hell were they talking about?

Yoongi cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably, continuing to look straight ahead at the road. “I do. And we’re being rude by having a conversation that she can’t understand. So please stop it.”

Your brother paused for a moment before replying in Korean ”… Yes, hyung.” 

“If he's being rude let me know and I'll take his lunch money. I will literally untransfer funds.” You said, eyeing the two of them suspiciously. “I know how to say “fuck” in English and I definitely heard it.”

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” Yoongi replied. “Here, we can also listen to the word ‘fuck’ some more.” he turned the music back on. Since everyone else was having free therapy in the van, why not join? One song played before you all arrived at the dorms. 

“Go round up some strapping young men to carry these boxes. I have to find your RA.” You told your brother as Yoongi parked the van. He hopped out quickly, all too eager to escape. You rested your head against the headrest and pushed your hands against your eyes. “I am so sorry. Today has been a total nightmare. Worse than I even imagined.” You said, feeling like you might cry.

Yoongi sat there for a few seconds, reliving the afternoon. It had actually been mostly fun for him. “I had a good time. I got to meet your family and I got free soup.”

You looked over at him slightly bewildered. “We need to raise your standards for what a good day should look like Yoongi, because this was a total shit show.” 

“Hey, don’t cry. I hate it when people cry. Your brother has been through a lot. It’s fine. Really. I too was an angry rude teenager and I didn’t have nearly as good of a reason. Come on, let’s finish this shit and get the van back.” He unbuckled his seatbelt. 

You followed suit and entered the dormitory, following the signs. You introduced yourself to the RA, got the keys, and found your brother and two other guys standing outside the van. You recognized the one kid.

“Hey Noona,” He waved. You liked that one. 

Yoongi had apparently started unloading the boxes while you were meeting with the RA. You picked up one of the smaller boxes and headed up to the dorm. With the 5 of you, it didn’t take long to move all the boxes into the dorm.  You placed the soup into the mini-fridge. You sighed and looked around at the mountains of boxes, “Ok. Do you want me to stick around for the unpacking or….?” 

"No. We'll get it." Jihoon responded and walked with you out into the hallway. Yoongi was leaning against the wall near the elevators, scrolling through his phone. 

"Thanks. And I'm sorry about earlier." He said looking down. 

"It's OK, come here." You pulled him in for a hug. He was taller than you. When did that happen?  You squeezed extra tight and then pulled away, "Make sure to answer my texts or else I'll show up here. And I have your RA’s number. Got it?” 

"Yeah yeah." he looked around. 

You looked up at him and brushed some invisible dirt off his shoulder, "OK. I love you. "

" I love you too. "

With that you turned and joined Yoongi by the elevators." Let today end please. " You said, crossing your arms in front of your body. 

"Nope. Not yet. You still owe me dinner," he commented as the two of you entered the elevator. 

You sulked , "You got soup."

"You haven't eaten yet."

You shrugged. It was true. But you were upset and when you were upset you either wanted to eat everything or nothing. Today you felt like nothing. 

The two of you climbed into the van one last time. You rested your head against the window and listened to the music. Yoongi gripped the steering wheel tightly as ‘The Last’ began to play. 

He glanced a look over at you. Your jaw was firmly set and he saw tears rolling down your cheeks. Shit. This was not a good day for this. He paused the music. 

"Sorry, that's pretty heavy for today isn't it?" The car came to a stop at a light and the silence was palpable. 

You breathed out, trying to keep it level. "Sorry, just. You and my brother have that in common." You wiped your eyes as you tried not to cry. You took pride in generally being pretty stoic and good-natured. 

The light turned green. "I guess we're all just fucked up, huh?" 

You sniffled. "Yeah. It just hurts my heart to think about a world where you or my brother don't exist." 

Yoongi felt like someone had hit him with a ton of bricks. He swallowed through the lump forming in his throat as he managed a response, "Well, we're still here. That's what matters. Right?” He tried to sound positive.

“Yeah. I’m glad for that. Turn left.” NEXT CHAPTER @lidda  @anpanman-sonyeondan   @firefairy1  @cuteipat  @sugaslittlekookies  @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny @livelyjay @niniita-ah​

[hermannsthumb]

Lo and behold, HERMANN is the one with a long list of hunky ex-boyfriends (and it drives Newt a little nuts)

a req sent in by @k-sci-janitor and filled TIMELY ENOUGH on their BIRTHDAYYYYY 🎉🎉🎉🎉 s/out to them for discussing this fic concept w me months ago and also today 👀

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

It’s a relief to find out Hermann is gay. It’s not even because of Newt’s weird, repressed feelings for the guy—though he admits it’s equally a relief to know that he’s not barking up the wrong tree entirely. The thing is that Newt’s really not sure what he would do if Hermann wasn’t. Hermann has the distinct honor (displeasure?) of being Newt’s only friend in the Shatterdome, after all; this means aside from usual friendship duties (sitting with Newt at lunch, listening to him complain about his day, allowing himself to be dragged along to bars and movie theaters when they finally have a second to breathe), he’s also the person Newt goes to with tales of his romantic conquests (not that he has any), requests for dating advice (not that Hermann has any), and reassurances that whoever Newt has his eyes on that week is hot enough for him (could they ever be?). It’s just, like, easier to do that kinda shit with someone who would also be (hypothetically) eyeing up and dating dudes, if Hermann ever managed to take the stick out his ass and relax long enough to do stuff like that.

Hell, Newt would be first in line if he ever did. As it is, he just has to settle on knocking knees with Hermann under the mess tables and—for lack of a better phrase—checking the latest batch of ranger hopefuls out. Newt doesn’t normally go for the tall, built, and athletic type, but Shatterdome transfers are usually the only way he can score a date, because all the seasoned personnel know to avoid the weirdo biologist in the basement by this point. There’s a war on; desperate times call for desperate measures. Newt hopes at least a handful of them are desperate.

“He’s kinda hot, don’t you think?” Newt says under his breath to Hermann. He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at one of the new ranger trainees in line for soup behind them. He has dark hair and a nice smile, and—more importantly—Newt’s sure he’s been making eyes at their table for the better part of five minutes. He’s one of the latest batch that has only just arrived two weeks prior, and the smallest batch by far. Not many people are enlisting in the PPDC these days. Bad for the state of the world and Newt’s libido.

“Hm?” Hermann says.

“The guy behind us,” Newt says. “No, don’t be obvious about it—”

But Hermann turns, conspicuously, so (deciding it can’t get any more awkward than it already is) Newt sighs and turns with him. The dark-haired ranger notices: his smile hitches up an extra centimeter, and he winks.

At once Newt feels his ego swell. He winks back. “Still got it, dude,” he crows to Hermann, and is just rising from his chair to swoop into action when he realizes something; the ranger was not making eye contact with Newt. He was—and is—making eye contact with Hermann.

Hermann scoffs. “Oh, please,” he mutters to Newt. “If he thinks that’ll get him invited over again—”

But the ranger is abandoning his spot in line and jogging towards them, smoothing down his hair as he goes. He’s brimming with a palpable mixture of excitement and anxiety. “Hey, Dr. Gottlieb,” he says. “So, uh, last week was pretty fun?” It’s an invitation for approval, one which Hermann ignores in favor of jerking his shoulders noncommittally. The ranger presses on anyway. “It’s cool to see you. Haha. I, uh, just wanted to make sure you have my email, in case you want to get together again.”

“I have it,” Hermann says.

An awkward tension settles between them. Newt clears his throat in hopes of diffusing it, and the ranger’s eyes dart over to him. “I’m Newt,” Newt says. “Hermann and I work together.”

“Cool,” the ranger says. Disinterested. “Anyway, Dr. Gottlieb, I’m free whenever, so?”

“Yes, I’ll certainly email you,” Hermann says. He picks up his dinner roll and begins to spread butter over it, not bothering to look up when he adds “Lovely to see you again.”

The guy nods, and hurries back over to his friends, who begin debating something with him in hushed voices. Twice the group glances back at Hermann. Hermann’s—uh—friend seems to be blushing. Hermann begins to butter the other half of his dinner roll. “What the hell was that about?” Newt says.

Hermann sets down his roll and furrows his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“That,” Newt says. “Who was that guy?”

“Oh,” Hermann says. “Him.” He rolls his eyes, and to Newt’s alarm goes pink in the cheeks. “We had a, ah, a date, I suppose you could call it, last week. He turned out to be a bit rude, actually, not the very, er, courteous sort. Attentive. Or at least not as courteous as I like. You know.”

“I don’t,” Newt says.

“You know,” Hermann repeats, with more force on the know. His pink blush spreads down his neck. “In the—coupling—sense.”

“You hooked up with him?” Newt says, too loud. A few heads swivel in their direction, including Hermann’s quote-unquote date and his friends; Hermann whacks Newt in the shin with his cane, clearly mortified.

“Keep your voice down! I don’t want the whole bloody Shatterdome to know, do I?” Hermann hisses. “Yes, I had sex with him. I do occasionally take time to enjoy myself.”

Newt stares at Hermann in amazement. Hermann hooks up? Hermann hooks up with hunky guys? Hermann hooks up with hunky guys and then ghosts them? “I didn’t know,” Newt says. “That you…did that.” Months and months of talking about his shitty love life to Hermann and Hermann has never once bothered to volunteer information of his own. Newt always just assumed Hermann had put his emotional (and physical) needs on hold for the sake of the war. Apparently not.

“You never asked,” Hermann says. “Is it important?”

Yes, it is. Newt shakes his head. The rest of their dinner is quiet and without any further interruptions. It’s also without their usual bickering, though, which makes it feel oddly lonely, and when Newt gets back to his bunk that night, he can’t help but wonder what else he hasn’t discovered about Hermann yet. Or, really—what about Hermann’s love life he hasn’t discovered yet.

A bouquet of flowers arrives for Hermann at the lab a week later. Newt is the one to take the delivery, Hermann being too absorbed in his calculations and boring graphs, and also because Newt is harboring a secret hope they’re for himself from a secret admirer. No such luck. To Dr. Gottlieb, the heart-shaped label proclaims in pink cursive, and a few sentences of the sappiest attempt at poetry Newt’s ever seen follows. Love, Pedro. Newt smirks through a suffocating wave of jealousy, whether to be the one giving or getting the flowers he’s not sure. “Hey, Hermann,” he calls across the lab. “Your boyfriend getting persistent. Want me to stick these in water for you?”

Hermann grumbles something, then says “Boyfriend?”

“From the mess the other night,” Newt says. “The uncourteous one.” Newt double-checks the note. “Pedro. His heart is yearning for you, Hermann. Listen to this—”

But Hermann scoffs loudly before Newt can even start on the poem. “Don’t be daft,” he says. “That wasn’t Pedro. That was Jason.” He scribbles over something on his chalkboard and starts again on the line below it. “And Pedro is hardly my boyfriend—it was only dinner.”

“Dinner?” Newt squeaks.

“And drinks,” Hermann says.

“You’re seeing another guy?” Newt says.

Hermann finally turns around. “Does it matter if I am?” he says.

“Yes,” Newt says. “No? I don’t know?”

“I’m a grown man, Newton,” Hermann says. “I date. You ought to try it yourself—it does wonders for the nerves.” When Newt is clearly still unsatisfied, Hermann sighs. “I met Pedro on an errand to LOCCENT last month, and I found him charming. You’d recognize him—you actually, er, caught us in a bit of a compromising position the other night. Remember?”

Newt frowns. He hasn’t caught Hermann with anyway in any compromising situations recently—the only thing he can think of that could be considered remotely embarrassing is when he stepped out into the hallway the same time Hermann’s physical therapist did, and they ended up bumping into each other. But that was—oh, God, Newt’s an idiot.  “That was him?” Newt says. He just assumed anyone stopping by Hermann’s room after work hours would be there for physical therapy, okay? And there had been a lot of…noise. Well, he’s not going to think about that now. “But he was so hot! Do you only date, like, hunks or something?”

“Really, Newton,” Hermann says. “You’re making yourself upset over nothing.” The corner of his mouth twitches up. “Though one of my old ex-boyfriends did become an underwear model…”

“Dude,” Newt says, and before he can help himself, blurts out “Shit, maybe I should start going to the gym.”

Hermann gives him a strange, searching look, and Newt immediately clamps his mouth shut in horror. He’s really gotta start working on his brain-to-mouth filter. Or at least work on not sticking his fucking foot in it every five minutes. “As I said,” Hermann says, cryptically, and turns away (apparently satisfied with whatever he saw in Newt), “you’re making yourself upset over nothing. I hardly find the need to limit myself to ‘hunks’.”

“Uh,” Newt says. “Right.”

Whatever that means.

[biscuit-buddy]

kuzumochi. (18+)

Endeavor x Reader (Smut, Birthday Fic, 3.1k)

A/N: holy shit guys this got so much longer than expected i’m sorry if it drags at all i just had so much i wanted to get out! Also its 11:22pm so its technically still his birthday. ha. 

What do you get for the man who could already have whatever he wanted at the snap of his fingers? Being the number one pro hero meant that Enji already received truckloads of expensive things, tickets to exclusive events, and the newest technologies simply because of his status. You knew this because everything he received went through you after being thoroughly checked at security. Eight months as his personal secretary offered you a glimpse into his extravagant world and honestly left you with a small bite of bitter jealousy. Some of the things that passed over your desk could pay the rent in your measly apartment for the next year, and you were sure he never gave most of it more than a second glance. 

Your pen tapped lightly against your bottom lip as you stared at the pad of sticky notes on your desk, nothing more than illegible lines, dots, and scribbles covered the top one. With a sigh of frustration, you detach it from the stack, crumple it and toss it in the trash. Today was the first day of August, and the mental countdown to your boss’ birthday plagued your thoughts. While your job was comfortable as is, the cold treatment from the man you worked for grated on your every nerve. You’d think after nearly a year in his employment he’d begin to warm up to you, maybe even bother to remember your name. This was your chance to finally stand out to him if only you could think of something that the hero could possibly want for his birthday. 

As much as he’d probably like a break or a vacation, you were in no position to provide that for him. He obviously didn’t want for anything material either. Does he even have a sweet tooth? You wondered silently as the tapping of your pen resumed against your face. I can’t even imagine a guy like him eating a cupcake. You know what? Actually I can and it’s hilarious. I bet his mustache would burn the frosting and-

“Ahem” Well, speak - or think- of the devil and he shall appear. Endeavor himself stood at your desk with an impatient look on his stern face. The goofy smile you’d been developing at the thought of the massive man eating sweets was quickly wiped off and your back straightened at an uncomfortable pace. 

“Daydreaming on the job?” he asked, but you got the feeling he didn’t really want an answer, so you just bow your head in apology. In an embarrassed mumble, you replied, “Sorry sir, won’t happen again” and he gave a huff in response, not unlike that of a great dragon. You held back another smile at the fleeting thought of smoke puffing out of his nose in discontent, as he handed you a manila envelope stuffed to the brim with some kind of paperwork. 

“I need this hand-delivered to the Hawks Hero Office immediately. This is sensitive information I’m trusting you with.” You gingerly accepted the packet, but couldn’t avoid the brief touch of his massive hand sliding past yours. You noted briefly just how warm they were, though you shouldn’t really be surprised. Courier work isn’t exactly in your job description but lately, you’ve been desperate to suck up anyways, plus some fresh air couldn’t hurt. You stood and gave one more quick bow, “of course sir, I’d be happy to deliver it” He seemed content with your answer and turned to walk through the frosted glass double doors that led into his office without so much as another word. 

Honestly, that had gone better than most of your interactions in the past. Pleased with the slight development in your relationship you gatherers your purse and the envelope and headed for the elevator. Floors passed monotonously as you continued to float gift ideas around in your head, this was looking to be harder than you initially thought. 

Once the lift reached the lobby you made your exit, pushing past a crowd of workers who seemed to just be returning from lunch. They laughed boisterously and made no notice of you squeezing around them. Finally, you made it to the front door of the Endeavor Agency and swiped your employee ID  badge on the terminal next to the front door alerting the system that you had left the building. Fresh warm air tickled your skin as you made your way onto the sidewalk and began the trek to Hawks’ Agency. It wasn’t particularly far, only a few blocks away and the route was dotted with storefronts boasting all kinds of wares from cake to clothes to flowers.

In theory, one of the displays you passed should have given you an idea but once more you found yourself coming up blank as you approached your destination. The young man at the front desk smiled politely when you entered  “Hi there, do you have an appointment?” his eyes flickered between you and the computer screen in front of him. 

“Actually I’m here on delivery for Endeavor” you waved the yellow folder a bit to accentuate your statement “something about sensitive information?” This really wasn’t part of the job you signed up for. Face to face interactions with strangers is so damn awkward. Luckily the receptionist probably dealt with people like you all day and didn’t bat an eye before saying

“Of course, his office is on floor 22 but if he’s not in there, try the roof. I’ll let security know you’re heading up” and he began tapping at the keyboard with one hand while making a ‘go on’ gesture toward the elevator with the other. You thought about boarding but instead made your way to the staircase. I already walked this far, might as well make it a cardio day, and give myself a good excuse to order takeout for dinner. You were truly a genius, maybe it was time to apply at NASA instead of working your ass off for Mr. Hothead. 

Twenty-two floors was a bit more of a workout than you thought it would be, and when you finally arrived at the top you were mildly sweaty cheeks ruddy and more out of breath than you’d like to admit so you take a moment to calm down before opening the doors and walking past the security guard. He gave you a sideways glance but kept his mouth shut as you knocked twice on the office doors. 

The lack of a verbal response clued you into the fact that he was likely on the roof just as the receptionist had said, so you hung a left and let yourself sprint up one more flight of stairs. Once you made it through the door marked ‘rooftop’ you spotted the winged hero perched near the railing. You announced yourself so as not to startle him,

“Excuse me, Mr. Hawks? I’m here on behalf of Endeavor, he asked me to deliver this to you as soon as possible”

He wheeled around at the sound of your voice, and his eyes lit up with amusement at your disheveled appearance. “Hey, thanks! I was kind of expecting the big man himself but you’re certainly a nice surprise” he winked and took the folder from your hands “Nobody told me Endeavor hired such a cutie to be his secretary, ya think I have any chance of poaching you from him?” Despite your earlier thoughts about NASA, you had no intention of leaving your current position so you just laughed. 

“I’m flattered but unfortunately I’ve got some oddly placed sense of loyalty for him” 

“Oh I get it” he cocked an eyebrow “I would too if I was you, the guy’s a size queen’s dream after all. Gotta love the whole naughty secretary dynamic too”

You sputtered at his bluntness “Oh god no nothing like that I-”

“Aw, I’m just teasing kid, how couldn’t I when you come up here looking like that” He gestured to your flustered appearance and you immediately regretting taking the stairs moments ago “Besides, I’d be surprised if you got him to warm up to you enough to remember your name let alone bend you over his desk” He was spot on, you had to sigh at that. 

“You’re right there, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t even notice if there was an entirely different person sitting at my desk tomorrow” 

“Heh, yeah, sounds like him. But you know, his birthday is coming up maybe a gift will put you in his good graces” another effortless wink was shot your way and despite him being the one with wings, the attention really ruffled your feathers. It’s like he had a secret mind-reading quirk or something. 

“I thought of that, but I have no clue what a guy like him would even want. It’s not like shopping for your mom, where you can just give her a picture frame that says ‘Live Laugh Love’ and she cherishes it forever ya know?” Hawks snorts in amusement at your comparison. You’re right and you’ll defend that if he asks, but he doesn’t. 

“In that case, I’d be willing to let you in on a little secret, some little known Endeavor lore, a true exclusive if you ask me”

“I’m not a tabloid Hawks, just tell me already” this guy messes around a lot for being the number two hero, its an incredibly stark contrast from his only superior.

“Okay, okay, you gotta lean in though, he’d kill me if I leaked something so personal” you lean in closer as instructed and he whispers into your ear, “his favorite food... is kuzumochi” You pull back in visible disappointment. 

“That’s it?”

“Yeah, he goes crazy for the stuff. Honest to god I’ve seen him inhale an entire batch in like five minutes. You want him to notice you? Then this is the best possible way, trust me.” and for some crazy reason you do. This could actually work, if it’s really as much of a secret as the blonde claims, you’d certainly stand out among the other gifts he’s sure to get. 

You thank Hawks and turn to leave with a newfound confidence in this new plan, but not before he makes you promise to tell him how it goes after the big day. As you exit the winged hero’s agency building the work phone you were assigned chimes with a new email letting you know that you can go straight home after the drop-off, and your grin widens. Even better, now you have time to stop at the grocery store on the way home, the decision already made to go big or go home. You were bound and determined to make the kuzumochi from scratch, and it was gonna be the best damn thing your boss had ever tasted. 

*******************************

The rest of the week dragged on in a painfully average way, the only thing keeping your mood afloat was the surprise dish you had been working on every night. You’d gone through multiple test batches, determined to get the flavor and consistency just right. The work paid off on the night of the 7th, just in time when you completed your best batch yet. With a content sigh, you washed your hands and packaged up the kuzumochi like a damn professional. Finally, you were able to take a long hot shower and climb into bed early with the anticipation of tomorrow bubbling in your chest.

Morning came quickly and your daily routine was done with care, then you grabbed the gift and began the short commute to work. Brain on autopilot, it seemed like no time at all until you were seated at your desk and logging in to the company’s computer system. The pristinely packaged gift was nestled into the corner of your desk, waiting for the perfect moment. 

This moment came just before lunch when a mildly scuffed up Endeavor breezed past you in a huff and headed straight into his office. This is it you thought Sure, he’s a little pissy at the moment but this’ll cheer him right up. And with that, you knocked once on the office door and peeked in. The sight of him slumped in the leather office chair in front of the massive floor to ceiling window, eyebrow cocked at your intrusion made your heart jump just a little. How can one man be so damn intimidating? You cleared your throat and began to speak with entirely false confidence.

“Sorry for barging in sir, I just wanted to give you a birthday gift. It’s not much, but I hope you’ll accept it” the whole situation reminded you of confessing to your crush with a box of chocolates in middle school, and it’s funny how some things never truly change. You presented the box to him and to your surprise he actually reached out to take it. 

His scrutinizing glare never let up as he untied the silky ribbon and lifted the lid, but once he recognized the contents his expression shifted quickly to one of surprise. 

“Is this... kuzumochi?” His gaze fell on you and it had nearly physical weight.

“Yes sir, I have it on uhm, good authority that it’s one of your favorites” should you admit that Hawks told you this bit of information? 

“Why?” 

“I’m sorry? Its… well, it’s your birthday, right? I wanted to get you something that would stand out.” It felt silly to admit to his face. 

“And why would you need to stand out, Y/N?” You had to keep your jaw from hitting the floor when he so casually dropped your name, the name you were sure he hadn’t even known. He decided to let you mull over the question as he took a bite of your carefully crafted treat, you could hear a small satisfied hum in his throat and it gave you chills. He beckoned you closer, “it’s delicious, would you like a taste?” when you hesitated he added, “it would be awfully rude to refuse your boss on his birthday, especially after all the trouble you’ve gone to making these”

A heavy step carries you over to his desk, like lead weights attached to your ankles. As you approach he rises out of the chair, a new unreadable look replaced the one of irritation you had been so used to all these months. “Come closer,” he said when you stopped just short of the desk. He’d never spoken to you like this before, and it sent chills down your spine. A few more steps took you around the desk to where he stood, and you barely flinched when he placed a large palm on the side of your jaw, the other held a piece of kuzumochi near your mouth. His intent was clear, he was going to feed it to you by hand. “Open” he commanded softly and you couldn’t deny him if you wanted to, so you complied.

The sweetness melted over your tongue, you truly had outdone yourself here. And once the piece was securely in your mouth, a warm thumb brushed over your bottom lip where his eyes also happened to be resting, completely content in watching you chew and swallow. The intimacy of the situation wasn’t lost on you. You recalled something that Hawks had said about a ‘sexy secretary dynamic’ and once again he was right. When the taste had completely faded from your senses, you looked up to finally meet your boss’ eye. The intensity in them shook you to your very core.

“I’ll ask you again, why do you think you need to stand out?” at this, his hand dropped from your lip down to your waist “Were you hoping for some kind of special attention?” the depth of his voice made your thighs clench, knowing full well where this conversation was heading. He noticed the action and quirked his lips into the faintest smile, one full of mischievous intent. One large step forward for him pushed you back onto the sturdy wooden desk. “I can’t possibly disappoint my favorite little employee then, can I?”

You barely had time to brace your arms behind you before his hand moved over again to res on the top of your thigh, and the one that remained on your jaw guided you into a kiss. It began soft, Endeavor was no fool. He tested the waters, your willingness, before jumping right in. The second you started to kiss back it was full speed ahead. The man was experienced for sure, he knew exactly how to coax your mouth into a dance with his own. Once his tongue pushed into your mouth it was all over for you, you’ve become a slave to the feeling.

All too quickly he broke the kiss, and you had half a mind to whine at the loss of contact. When you opened your eyes you noticed he was leaned over towards the box of kuzumochi that started everything. Odd time for a snack but okay. And when he returned to face you he did have another piece in his mouth, as well as the red ribbon you used to tie it in his hands. Your mouths met once again, this time he pushed the food into yours with his tongue. While you’re distracted with the odd sensation of kissing and eating at the same time you hardly notice the way he pushed both your arms up above your head and deftly tied your wrists together with the ribbon. When he was sure they were secure he let them drop and find a home around the back of his neck.   

You swallow the kuzumochi just as he turns up the intensity, completely claiming your mouth with his own. This time, he pushes you even further back until you’re laid completely flat on the desk. His fingers rake up and down your sides while his hips press against yours. You can feel his growing excitement pushed up against you and the feeling has you nearly moaning. Nearly isn’t good enough got the number one though, and he starts trailing kisses down your jaw and further until he reaches the junction of your neck where he bites and sucks like his life depends on it. This finally brings forth the noise he was chasing, and when you go to cover your mouth from embarrassment is when you finally realize that your wrists are bound. 

Your boss’ attention is directed elsewhere though, as he reaches a hand under your skirt, past you panties, and begins to stroke your folds. You both realized how wet you’ve become at the same time, and now it’s his turn to moan. One large digit enters you as his mouth travels further south, now nipping at your collarbones and chest. Your wrists slip from around his neck and his free hand strokes upwards from your side to push your arms up over your head. Completely exposed to him he continues to ravish your skin and curl his finger in and out of your cunt. Quickly you come undone around his finger and he removes his mouth from you long enough to drag the digit along his own tongue. 

“You’re even sweeter than the kuzumochi, here” he pushes the finger into your mouth and you diligently suck the rest of your juices from it. “Good girl.” The praise itself makes you moan once again. When he’s satisfied with your work he begins to remove his pants and you finally get a glimpse of what you’re working with. You nearly get up and walk out right then, because the man is massive.

“Just relax, I’ll start slow” he reassures and stays true to his word. After a long moment of adjusting he’s fully sheathed inside you and you swear this is what heaven feels like. The moment he begins to move you know you were wrong. If that was heaven you must have finally ascended even further, to wherever gods go when they die. Endeavor fucks you hard and slow against his desk until your eyes are rolling back in your head and you can see every constellation on your eyelids. And when it’s over, you’re shaking like a leaf.

He pulls out, not giving a second glance to the fluids leaking out of you and onto the floor, and begins to untie your wrists. Both of them are red and raw from the friction of the ribbon, and he places a tender kiss on each of the marks. One more kiss on the bruised patch he left on your neck, then he’s hoisting you upwards in a sitting position. Still unsteady but slowly coming back down to earth, you feel a soft tissue wipe at the mess between your legs while a strong hand continues to keep you upright rests at your side. 

When you look up to meet his gaze, your confidence is no longer an act. “Happy birthday,” you say and for once he breaks out a genuine smile that makes him look ten years younger.

As he rests his forehead against yours he replies, “It’s not over yet” but before you can question his meaning the intercom system next to his computer rings and a voice announces “Mr. Hawks is on his way up, sir” and you choke. You did promise you’d tell him how things went. 

[palbabor-writes]

So, uh, I got excited with this ask

Anonymous said:

so what if, and I’m just spitballin’ here, you wrote a little something for Tomura, a jealous!reader x Tomura, perhaps? Ik there probably wouldn’t be an actual situation where somebody would try to steal him away or anything but just a little something on the reader seeing something that wasn’t what it looked like and Shiggy kind of reassuring her in his own special way? 😌 pls &thank you sm in advance, but you of course absolutely don’t have to write it if you don’t want to (: love your work!

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Gen!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, angst, jealous feelings, mentions of past relationship and heavy petting, mm, imma say it’s rated T, for the teens and upper betweens

Word Count: 4387

Notes: Lol. I’m pretty sure this was meant to be like, a drabble or head cannon in your mind nonnie. Me, being me, I stretched it out into a freaking fic. I can’t shut uppppp sometimes. First time trying for a Gen!Reader, so hopefully it’s a thumbs up. Not beta edited, so any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.” ― William Shakespeare, Othello

It’s been two months, two freaking months and you’ve hardly gotten two texts strung together, let alone a call, from Tomura. 

While he’s never been what anyone would call a frequent texter, your last message has sat, unread, on his phone for the last 3 days. You know he’s busy, you know he said he’s got shit to take care of, but you can’t help the angry pit of worry that simmers in your gut. He could at least tell you something. Like, hey, I’ll be out of touch for a few days, talk soon. Is that too much to ask? 

Apparently it is.

The two of you have always been a quiet item. Most of the League knows, or at least, heavily, heavily suspects. It’s not like you tried to keep it a secret, it’s just the way you both are. Besides, you usually liked how the arrangement worked.

You’d met him through your job. You worked with Giran as a courier of sorts. Sometimes you’d lug shipments back and forth, sometimes you’d make deliveries. It was one of these deliveries that introduced you to Tomura. He was quiet, sulking toward the back of the bar, but you’d managed to strike up a conversation with him as Compress double checked his requested items. 

He was waspish, sharp. At first, you worried that your questions had only managed to pissed him off. But then, just as you started to chat with another guy in the bar, a snarky fellow, who was covered in some serious, serious burns, Tomura tugs your attention back to him with a pointed question. 

“Can you tell Giran that you’re only one who’s permitted to transport the deliveries to the bar?”

That one query had started a landslide. 

You were summoned to the hideout frequently, practically on the daily after that. Giran just shook his head and asked you not to fall too deep. You didn’t know what he meant then. Two months later you understood his meaning perfectly. 

How could you not fall head over heels for this guy? Fuck, he was so desperate, so wanting, so fucking needy for you. God, you missed it now that you didn’t have it. After the Kamino incident, he’d called on you even more and you loved that you could help him. He honestly seemed, in his own, gruff way, appreciative. 

But, then he’d said he needed to leave the city. 

At first, your contact with each other had maintained some semblance of normalcy. You would text and he would reply. You could call and he would answer. Often, he sounded tired, strained, but every once in a while you could pull a laugh from him and all would feel right with the world. 

Now? 

Now nothing feels right and the only link you have to him is Dabi. He’s the only person in the League that’s responding to your emails or texts. Even Giran isn’t answering anything. That’s not normal either because Giran always, always answers. What the fuck is going on?

It’s starting to feel like you’ll never know. This is mainly due to the fact that Dabi is a shitty, shitty font of information. At first, you’d eagerly taken his calls and texts. In lieu of a tip, you asked him about this mission Tomura was on. He fed you vague, flippant, answers. 

“Tch, this again? I already told you, they’re all fighting this giant. It’s some pet of the doctors.”

“And like I said the last, oh, I don’t know, twelve times, giant makes no sense to me. Can you expand on that a little bit? Like, what the hell does that mean? They’re fighting a fucking giant. Is that supposed to be some kinda bizarro hint? Cuz’ it sounds like you’re giving me shoddy information to get me off your back,” you snap, placing your foot on his box of requested medical kit supplies. 

Dabi practically keeps you on standby now. The guy has gotten more aggressive in the last month, and the heavy price his fire quirk extorts on his body meant he needs a steady flow of burn cream, meds, stitches and pain relievers.

“Fuck, look, I don’t know how else to explain that fucker. I didn’t give a shit about boss man’s little mission to tame him, so the doctor and I worked out something else for me to do. I’m not around those guys right now, I’ve got other things I’m working on. Now give me my shit and get out of my face. Ask Toga about your little fuck buddy, I could give two shits about his well being.” 

“Why follow him if you hate him so much?” God, this asshole is such a prick.

Dabi considers you for a long moment, his vibrant blue eyes lingering on your scowling face. “He’s a means to an end. I’m just here to see this society fall to its knees. Boss wants the same thing, so, for now, this arrangement works for both of us. Now, if I have to ask you to give me my fucking shit one more time, I’m gonna’ singe you where you stand.” 

Sucking your teeth, you kick the box toward him and turn on your heel, slamming his door behind you. If he’s not going to be useful to you, why be useful to him? We’ll see how he likes it when you accidentally miss some of his shipment deadlines. 

You pace out into the night, shrugging your jacket up on your shoulders. If they’re so far out, if they’re fighting something that sounds like an impossibility, why not ask you to bring them some supplies? Why haven’t they reached out to you? 

As you wait for your train, you pull your phone from your pocket, your cold fingers resting against the glass. There’s a missed call from another contact, but no other notifications. You swipe over to your messages from Tomura. Your last text sits, still unopened, unread, uncared for, in his box. It’s not fair, you think, sliding your phone back and pressing your hands into the meager warmth of your pockets.

Tomura used to confide in you and you felt close to him. And not just in a physical sense. At first, the relationship between the two of you was just that, something that eased an itch. But you kept asking him things, liking the soft tone his voice could take on when he lost some of that anger. 

Then, he started to wordlessly ask you to stay a little longer, his arms wrapping around your bare form, holding you against his warmth. It was nice. It was so, so satisfying and now it’s gone. Is this his way of moving on from you? You would have thought that he would have said something. He’s never struck you as someone who hides from a confrontation. So why the radio silence? 

Another week passes and Dabi keeps calling. He’s practically got your entire schedule blacked out now with deliveries, upcoming shipments and transports. What. The. Fuck. It’s gotten so frustrating that you’ve started to waffle on picking up his calls, sending him straight to voicemail. 

“What kinda courier leaves their fucking name on their voicemail? Stop ignoring my calls, (Y/N).”

Yeah, he’s a real charmer. At least he answers your messages though. It’s better than nothing, you keep telling yourself, trying to ignore the gnawing, munching feeling of bitterness that keeps rising. Yeah, Dabi’s gotten to be such a constant in your life that your phone keeps recommending him as a new favorite. 

Would you like to add the contact: Dabi, to your favorites list? No, no you would not.

Then, suddenly, out of the blue, Dabi’s not answering you either. Your first, gut instinct, tells you that he’s likely annoyed with your spotty replies or he’s busy with...”Dabi things”. He’s always reminding you about the oh, so important “Dabi things”. ‘Don’t pester me with your shit, (Y/N). I’ve got something big I’m working on.’ 

But now? Fuck, now you’d kill to hear from him. 

There’s absolutely nothing. No response from Toga, Compress, Spinner, Dabi and most important of all, Tomura. 

He’d finally read your text. After two whole days had passed from the sent time stamp, he’d read it, and then opted to not respond. It stung. You can still feel that tightening emotion of dread, of abject hurt, that had radiated from your chest when you saw that he’d finally looked at your message and then just decided you weren’t worth his time. 

Yeah, after seeing that, the last few days have been nothing but a full tilt boogie of emotions for you. 

This must be a planned thing. Why else would they all coordinate their ghosting. He must have wanted to leave you behind and now, this distance has made it possible. 

He’s been changing a lot lately. 

Even before he left for this, whatever it was, he’d grown in confidence and skill. Fuck, he’d taken on a Yakuza boss and won. He’s becoming a leader, a competent force to be reckoned with. He doesn’t need you to bounce ideas off of anymore. A courier picked up at the start of his career isn’t a necessary piece to add to his collection. 

Yeah, chances are, he’s moved on. He’s out of your reach now and you can’t help the thoughts that rise in the back of your mind. What if he’s found someone else? What if he just got bored with you? Did you put too much thought into this relationship? Well, that question has kinda answered itself. You put way too much into this. You had planned for things, hoped for…

Your phone rings and the noise startles you out of your head. You fumble for your vibrating device and lift the screen up before swiping to answer the call. Oh, it’s Toga. Fingers shaking, you lift the phone to your ear and are so happy to hear her babbling voice. 

She tells you that she’s been meaning to call you, but, gosh, everything has gotten in the way. Plus, she took a bad hit in a fight. Oh, she’s ok, but it’s been a crazy week for her. 

As she chatters about some random series of events that you can’t string together, you let out a long sigh. That coiling that’s been building in your stomach loosens and you’ve never been so relieved in your life. There’s still a chance. Maybe he hasn’t decided to leave you in the dust. Maybe...whoops, Toga asked you something. 

“Deka City? No, I’ve never been there.”

“Oh good, well, I wouldn’t try and go now. Tomura sorta, mmm, crumbled it to bits.”

“What?”

“Oooh, and we’re part of a bigger group now…”

She tells you about something called Gigamantia and their new connections. Apparently, Tomura’s made another step up in the world. Now he’s leading something called Meta Liberation? What is that? It sounds kinda familiar, but where have you heard it?

Toga is winding down her conversation, her voice smoothing out. She promises she’ll answer your other texts soon and emails you a set of coordinates, saying they’ll see you there and clicks off. 

You lower your phone to your lap, biting back the grin that won’t stop spreading across your face. Ok, so, maybe you’re not as abandoned as you thought. Maybe they, no, maybe he still needs you.

******

You found the building alright. It was impossible to miss. This place is massive, fit for an army. The security is tight, so tight that you’d even been screened by a guard at the door. Once they confirm that you are who you say you are, and you know who you say you know, you’re permitted entrance.

Who are all these people?

As you enter the “meeting room,” which is really a space that looks like a concert area, complete with a well lit stage, you’re pressed into the mass of bodies. There must be hundreds of people here and there’s some hulking creature, dozing in the corner. 

Is this that giant Dabi mentioned? You totally thought he was making that shit up. And, wait, wait, is that a pro hero a few spaces away? What is this? Where is the League?

The overhead lights dim and your attention is drawn back to the sage. People are bustling around the elevated area and a plush chair is placed in the center. Looks like the show is about to start. 

A loud, booming voice announces the arrival of a man called Redestro. He must be that long faced guy in the motorized chair and, oh, there he is. 

He walks up slowly, it looks like he’s leaning on something, but you can’t see clearly. The crowd shifts around you and an inordinately tall man is blocking your view. Huffing out a sigh, you try to maneuver yourself to a better vantage place.

He’s seated now, his long legs spread out in front of him. Fuck, he looks both wonderful and terrible, at the same time. Wonderful because it’s Tomura, terrible because he’s covered in bandages and he’s got a brace on his leg. What happened to him? 

Your eyes can’t stop roving over him, trying to drink in everything. He looks like he’s on edge, his fingers clutching at a small slip of paper, as his good leg jiggles against the chair. Why...ah, he’s being introduced. Wait. He’s being introduced as the leader of the Paranormal Liberation Front? So...so all these people...this entire organization...is his to command? 

He clears his throat and you hear his voice for the first time in months. He’s halting at first, but as he continues his speech his tone deepens, strengthens, losing that early hesitation. He sounds good, powerful and confident. 

You tear your eyes away from him and give the crowd a quick glance. They’re enraptured. A few paces away you can hear people whispering to each other, their voices low, awed. 

“He took down Redestro…”

“He’s so young.”

“He’s kinda...I don’t know...handsome.”

“You’re right, he looks regal.”

That coiling, trembling feeling is making a strong comeback. It’s an ugly return and it makes your flesh prickle and cool. He’s left you in the lurch for months and now he’s become some sort of leader, of an entire, what is this...a cult? An organization? An army? How the fuck, would you know? No one, least of all Tomura, has told you anything, about any of this. 

When the address and introductions (the League had made a, uh, flashy entrance) are over, someone comes up and taps you on your shoulder. It’s another one of those security guards. She says you’ve been requested, the League wants to see you. 

She takes you past the stage and down a long hallway. It’s quiet back here and the silence doesn’t soothe your frayed nerves. You’re pointed to a large set of doors and you bite your lip before pushing them open.

Another large room greets you. This one is filled with plush couches, elegantly carved tables and multiple chairs. There’s so much to look at, you don’t even see them at first. No, you hear him before you see him. He’s talking with a tall woman, who is writing down what he dictates, her pen moving rapidly across her paper.

Fuck, you’ve missed his voice. 

It’s quiet now, a little hoarse from his speech and you want to step closer. He’s standing next to some large windows, his back turned to you. He hasn’t even noticed you. What were you thinking? He’s this...God, leader now. What are you? Just a nobody he met when he was still pounding the pavement, looking for anyone who could help their cause, their mission. There’s nothing for you here, he’s…

“(Y/N).” 

Your eyes snap up to his. Tomura has turned, one arm braced heavily on his crutch, and is looking right at you. His eyes are hooded, dark, you can’t get a read on him from here. You want to step closer, but that sickening feeling is falling, like a stone, into your gut. Despite your turbulent emotions, you can’t stop staring at him.

The thick bandages are off and his hair is longer, the white strands hang close to his collarbone now, gleaming and pearlescent. He looks, damn, he looks tired and...what’s that? There’s something dark on his hand, it’s black and it covers three of his fingers. Why is he wearing that half glove, oh, oh no. It’s not a glove you realize, horrified, it's a prosthetic. He’s lost some of his fingers. 

“It took you long enough, come here, (Y/N).” 

His voice has dropped an octave, lingering in that distant tone that he would use when he dragged his lips across your neck, rumbling and murmuring against your skin. He knew that you liked that, he knew that it would make you so desperate for him, your hands pawing at his shoulders, pulling... 

No. He’s ignored you for weeks, no, months. You’re not about to just fall to pieces at his feet, crawling and begging for him to want you. Your eyes latch onto his and you minutely shake your head at his request, fingers squeezing into your palms. 

The woman, noting the tension that’s suddenly entered the room, looks between the two of you, and abruptly makes herself scarce, her heels tapping against the floor as she walks to the door. Once you hear it close behind her you unstick your mouth, your tongue heavy against your teeth.

“Who was that?” you ask, your voice croaking, thick with disuse. You can’t help the question. It tumbles from your mouth before you can stop it. You’d meant to ask him something else, but the query just, pops out, angry and trembling. 

“I don’t know. One of Redestro’s cronies. Why-” His face scrunches abruptly and a wince of pain passes of his features. “Why does it matter?” He finishes, his hand gripping a little tighter against his cane.

“You didn’t have to send for me, you know. It looks like you’ve upgraded everything else, why not me too?”

A scowl echoes across his lips. “What-”

You won’t let him finish his question, you can’t stand it anymore. You also can’t seem to stop. All of the emotions, the anger, the betrayal, the fucking, God, jealous thoughts that you’d slip into, alone in your cold bed. No, you’re not going to back down.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text, and when you did, finally, manage to remember that I exist, the texts were so far and few between...fuck, sending a letter would have been faster. The only link I had to you was Dabi-”

“What?” He snaps, repeating his question, his red eyes, flashing, gleaming, glaring. “What does he have to do with anything?” His face is set in a deep snarl, his scar lifting along his white teeth. His fingers coil into his crutch, one digit arched away, and he begins the long journey to where you’re stubbornly standing. 

You watch him on bated breath. The sheer excitement of his renewed presence is making you shake. The warring feelings that are rising inside you are too much. It’s too much, it’s, oh...he’s right in front of you now.

“Answer me, (Y/N). What the fuck does Dabi have to do with anything?” 

You gulp. Tomura has never, ever liked you interacting with Dabi. It was that first subtle flirtation between you and the flame user that had set Tomura off in the first place. He had barely given you a second glance that first time you met him, but once your attention wandered over to Dabi, suddenly he was all ears. That animosity grew as time wore on. 

If anything, Dabi took advantage of it. He liked to press you, corner you, it was one of the many things you disliked about him. He was a selfish ass, only manipulating things for his own, twisted amusement. 

It’s a low blow for you to land on Tomura, to play up his own jealousies, but turnabout is fair play, right? 

“He’s the only person I could reach. You want to know who my phone keeps asking me to favorite now? Fucking Dabi. I kept asking him about you, about what was going on, but he never knew.

So, then I tried reaching out to you, directly. But then you decided to conveniently lose my fucking number, or something. You didn’t answer a single thing after that last text I sent you, what, two weeks ago? You didn't call. You didn’t even act like I exist, it-”

“I told you it would be a while.”

“Yeah, a while doesn’t typically mean two months. And how do you come back to me? With a broken leg and, fuck, three missing fingers? What is going on Tomura? You’re a different person now. Do you even want me anymore? You don’t have to ghost me. You could have just told me that you were moving onto bigger and better things. 

Congratulations, by the way. You’re the leader of a cult. Now, you can cut off all those lousy loose ends, like me-”

“You’re jealous.”

His voice has dipped into that low octave again, rasping, deep, and oh, fuck. You sputter at his assessment, your hands clenching into your pants. You need something to tether you, to keep you from reaching for him. You’re angry, remember? He’s left you, all alone, so alone and... 

He’s shifted to lean into you, the warmth of him rolling over you in waves. You can hear his breathing, if you move a little bit closer you could feel it, too. He knows what he’s doing. He’s used this tactic on you before. It’s very effective. His crutch taps him nearer. He’s practically flush against your heaving chest and your eyes flick up to his. 

The red is dark, tempered, and that swirling agitation has left him. He looks…

No, no, he left you for months, he can’t look at you like that. You shake your head, your eyes wincing shut, blocking him from view.

“I’m not...I-I’m not jealous, I was just-”

“Come here, (Y/N). Don’t make me ask you again.”

His new, half prosthetic hand reaches for your neck and traces over your trembling throat, ghosting over you, forcing you to press toward him. Once he’s satisfied you’re not going to reject his touch, he lets the digits tap onto you, gently, slowly, like he’s coaxing you out of your temper. The contrast of cool metal and warm skin makes you gasp, your eyes fluttering open. 

He’s curved over your lips, his white hair drifting softly around your face. Unthinkingly, unquestioningly, you reach for him. Your fingers lace into the silken tendrils and he lets a slow exhale wash over your face. His verdant eyes are so close. They’re fixated on yours, refusing to let you slip from his gaze again. 

You can’t breathe. There’s something else you want to scold him for, but...but his lips are so close. His nose bumps against yours and you bite your lower lip. He’s so warm. He smells nice too. It’s a rich smell, earthy, thick with some enticing aroma that’s all him. It floods your senses and you’re downing, distracted and lost. 

Tomura’s won this little stand-off because you reach for him first. Your fingertips urge him to you, one thumb dragging a familiar trail across the mole on his chin. His lips are chapped, rough, but oh, oh you’ve missed this. 

He lets you lead him, your lips pressing and lifting, planting feather light caresses against him. Your tongue swipes across his lower lip and he groans. It’s a husky, broken sound and it makes you yank at his clothes. His new suit crumples under your hands. You’d almost feel bad, if he hadn’t been such a neglectful ass to you. You’re nipping at him now, your kisses losing that sweet vulnerability.

Tomura approves of this frantic pace and one arm cages against your back, lifting you closer and dragging you against his front. His crutch clatters to the floor, but neither of you have the wherewithal to care. 

Besides, you think happily, you can be his crutch now.

He’s biting and sucking, his teeth drifting from your trembling lips and pressing into your pulse. One particularly hard nip has you arching into him, a gasping whimper on your lips. His tongue laves over the hurt, lulling the nip. 

Your hips instinctually lean into the his and you moan when you feel the hardness that is waiting for you there. Tomura presses back, dipping his nose into the juncture of your shoulder, his lips distractedly kissing against your skin. Your fingers trace down his front again and one hand goes lower still, running along his pants until you find what you’re searching for. 

He growls when you apply just the right amount of pressure and he’s pulling your lips back to his, demanding more. You’re skirting your other hand to the clasp of his belt when someone barges in the door.

Gasping, you start to pull away, trying to turn, but Tomura holds you to him, lifting his chin until it’s resting against your shoulder. He’s glaring out at whomever the fuck is standing in the doorway, but his fingertips are moving against you, pressing and soothing down your fevered skin.

“Hey boss- ah…” Dabi is brought up short by the sight that greets him and you can hear the sneer that he must have thrown Tomura’s way. 

Tomura, for his part, is quiet, content to silently stare down the man who stupidly interrupted him. He turns his head a fraction of an inch, but it’s enough room for him to drag his rough lips against your neck. You quake at the stimulation and hear Dabi let out a barking laugh.

“Ew, well this is fucking disgusting. Looks like the two of you can go back to fucking normal, eh (Y/N)? You and boss man can bone and get all that pent up insecurity out of your-”

“Get the fuck out,” you and Tomura say in unison.

You hear another scoffing chuckle and then the door slams shut.

Notes: The Dabi bits miiiight be in there because I finally got my belated birthday present of his Banpresto figure in today ԅ(≖◡≖ԅ)  

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx​, @yixxes​, @ghstmthr​, @evesmores​

*I think that’s everyone for now. If you wanna be added to a list just drop me a line & I’ll get you on the Google Doc: Shigaraki works, Dabi works, Hawks works, BNHA works, All works...works, works. There’s likely more to come, but that’s what I got for now. k byeeee.

[hanii-rose]

•Hello again, I’m the anon who requested gender neutral s/o! Thank you so much for writing such beautifully-written story between Garou and them. I’ve ended up loving it very much it was very good read, aww big kudos for you! ❤❤

And for the next request, as the fandom still hyped about part-timer Garou, how about of the continuation of the previous story:

The s/o has a stable job already, right? And Garou realized that currently being a freeloader in s/o’s house makes him a bit guilty. So he decided to lessen the s/o’s burden by taking a part-time job.

The s/o actually don’t mind of Garou being a freeloader, but seeing Garou becomes so determinated about it the s/o can’t help but feel very proud and happy for him.

Lots of fluffy moments after both of them finished working, like cooking a simple dinner together at home, resting their tired bodies on the couch while cuddling lovingly, Garou and the s/o sharing a lot of soft kisses during it while the s/o praising Garou’s hardworking, etc.

And as it’s the continuation of “Reunited’, of course the s/o is still a gender neutral.

Thank you so much and have nice days! 💖•

I’m so happy that I finally got to this one. There were a few requests before it so I had to complete those and I also had to write for the story on AO3 (-_-;) Sorry if I made you wait too long hehe I’m glad you enjoyed the first one tho

_________________________________________

Reunited Part 2

Garou x GenderNeutral!Reader

You stepped through your door after returning from your 9-5 job. Your muscles and joints ached and you stretched your body in an effort to wake yourself up, the plastic bag full of groceries crinkling with every move.

"I’m home…” you softly called, unable to produce a louder noise.

You took your work shoes off along with your coat and scarf, discarding them carelessly by the door, too tired to put them away.

You heard footsteps approaching and smiled when the Garou came towards you. You walked up to him and fell into his arms. Loosely wrapping your arms around his neck, you spoke softly.

“I am so tired today. I can’t even walk straight…”

He quirked a brow. His arms slithered around your waist and he picked you up, taking the bag of groceries from you and putting it on the kitchen counter on the way the bathroom down the hall.

“Another rough day, huh?”

Garou questioned softly and you nodded yawning.

“You have no idea…”

Garou set you down onto the stable counter of your bathroom and helped you out of your office pants, sliding then down your legs. You were left in your white shirt and socks.

Garou left after fixing you a warm bath. Undressing completely, you sat yourself down in your tub, the water temperature hot enough to soothe the undeniable ache in your bones from such a hard day of deskwork.

After washing yourself and sitting in the relaxing steam for an hour, you opted to get up and leave. Garou brought you your pajamas and you slipped them on, stretching and walking out of the tiled room with a towel in your hands.

“Ya finally done…?”

Garou asked deeply, sitting on the black couch of your apartment. You sighed and plopped down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. His fingers came up to massage your sides and you leaned in closer, the two of you now laying on the couch, Garou’s head on the armrest and your body on top of his.

“Mm, this feels good…” you said, slightly drowsy.

“Yeah.”

The two of you laid in silence, the only sound coming from the T.V. opposite from the couch. Garou turned the volume down, setting the mood perfectly. His hands circled your waist, exclusively close to your derrière. His hot breath fanned your ear and you found yourself nuzzling into him even more.

Your eyes slowly shut themselves and you curled up into a comfortable position. Oh boy, this felt so…cozy.

“C'mon, why are you fallin’ asleep on me?”

Garou’s voice rang out and you instantly awoke from your drowsy state.

“Oh, um…sorry. I’m just very sleepy today.”

“Too much work these days…”

You leaned towards his cheek, connecting your lips with it. And with that you wearily stood up and spoke, “I’m just gonna go take a nap. Too tired to function…”

Garou nodded, reluctantly, and let you go. He watched you tiredly carry yourself to your bedroom and fall flat on top of the mattress, immediately falling asleep.

Garou sighed to himself and leaned back onto the armrest of the couch. This had been going on for a number of days. You come home from work, he bathes you and takes care of you, he tries to fuck you and love you but you blow him off for sleep.

It was starting to get infuriating. But why was this happening to you? Things weren’t like this the first month he was here…

In fact, a lot of things had changed since the end of the month. Your fridge used to be stacked with food, you used to have a lot more things around and most importantly, you were livelier.

It was like he turned everything around for you….

Oh, shit.

He did, didn’t he? Fuck!

You were only so tired because you worked harder to support the two of you, you bought the groceries all by yourself, you cooked for him, man he was just taking and taking.

Garou exhaled harshly on the couch, rubbing his face with his hands in a frustrated manner. He’s such an idiot…

Ok ok, think. What do you do when someone lets you freeload in their house, eat their food, lie around all day and be the laziest bum you can be?

Oh, that’s right! You get a job.

He’s made up his mind. He is going to get a job, but there’s no way in hell he’s gonna tell you that. He doesn’t need you gushing over how sweet and cute he is, not wanting to re-experience the time you teased him for trying to make a pancake. He just wanted to be nice without being called a sweetheart, c'mon!

Now, back to the matter at hand. What job can he actually get that doesn’t require any form of experience or education?

>>

You grab a packet of sweetener from the coffee drawer, tearing open the little paper on top and pouring it into the foam cup that held your recently brewed coffee. You silently stirred with the swizzle stick, observing the boring people of your office from the small break room you stood in.

Leaning against the white counter, you sipped the hot substance and sighed in contentment when it travelled down your throat. You slipped your phone out of your pocket and leisurely scrolled through the recent news articles which lined the screen, stopping to read anything important.

And so you spent the next 10 minutes of your 20 minute break just dawdling around on your phone. You threw away the small cup of coffee that had become too cold and bitter for your liking and trekked back to your office, pushing open the pristine glass doors.

Putting your phone away back into your pocket, you took a seat in your office chair, booting up your computer to get back to making spreadsheets and going over the accounts drafted for last month.

You sighed in boredom, correcting some errors made by your ex-deskmates. It feels so good to have your own office, feels so good to get away from those vermin and feels so good being their boss. Yep, getting a promotion was the best. The only down side was that you had way more work now, your underlings tend to make too many mistakes when it comes to balance sheets. You hadn’t told Garou the news yet, you wanted to do it over a cute dinner. It would be way more impactful that way.

Ah, Garou. He always made you feel better after a long day. Just seeing his cute big head relieved you of all the stress that you carried home. Not to mention the amazing feeling of his unexpectedly soft hair between your fingers as you tug and weave or the overwhelming feeling of his strong arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you close and holding your sore body. The touch of his warm mouth on your lips, kissing and worshipping it, invading every intimate part of your form. And the way his tongue felt on your

DING!

Oh, an email from your boss? What’s this about? The she-devil up there never emailed her employees for anything good…

Subject: Executive meeting

Dear D-Wing Employee,

Good Morning. Our company, as you are aware, will be merging with a larger firm, hopefully bringing us larger and more profitable trades.

It has been brought to my attention that many of our business partners and executive directors will be hosting a meeting in the D-Wing of our establishment. It would be most appreciated if all of our D-Wing employees would be willing to postpone their work for a day to enable our higher ups and VIPs to perform the necessary actions in completing this fortunate exchange between two efficient companies, striving to bring better service to the people.

The delay of work shall last from today 10:00 A.M. to tomorrow 12:00 P.M. Thank you for your cooperation. If you have any concerns about this matter, please submit a written letter to the E-Wing, describing your issues.

Best Regards,

Senior Director, Akari Hina

Woah, so you’re basically getting the rest of the day off? And no work at all tomorrow? Hm, maybe your boss isn’t so bad after all.

Packing up and grabbing your coat, you turned off your computer and headed straight for the door, running past all of the other D-Wing employees readying themselves to leave.

>>

Garou sat in the office of a delivery firm, arms crossed and leg bouncing up and down, antsy. He eyed the man in front of him, clad in a suit and tie and looking through the 5 minute resume that Garou printed up.

“So, you’re an expert in ‘being strong’ and 'being cool’. You don’t have much experience, you’re only 18 and you created this resume by yourself?”

Garou nodded, fiddling with the edge of the gray scarf you had gifted him. Ah, another reason to get a job, give you a gift.

“So, did you pass highschool or…? Sorry, I’m confused.”

The man took off his glasses, wiping it with a little cloth that was left on his desk, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah, I left after my third year…”

Garou confirmed, and the man put his glasses back on, and intertwined his fingers on the desk between them.

“That’s good enough. It’ll do. Which department are you looking to work in? We have filing, storage, delivery and cleaning. But you look like a strong kid, storage would be perfect for you.”

Garou thought for a moment, face twisting in confusion. Filing…ugh reading. Storage, hmm not bad. Delivery isn’t hard. He refuses to clean after the slobs here.

“I’m up for anything that has heavy work, no reading or cleaning, thanks.”

He curtly informed his soon to be boss. The suited man huffed and opened up his desk drawer for a notepad.

“Sign these and we’ll get you started. Deliveries should be fine, no?”

Garou picked up a pen and signed away, paper after paper. Who knew FedEx had so many policies?

After providing enough details on the notepad and filling up all of the consent forms, Garou stood up, pushing his chair back slightly. He went to turn the knob of the little office door but was halted by the voice of the man, or should he say, his new boss.

“I’ll have my assistant bring you your uniform, also get rid of the hair. It won’t fit in the hat…”

Garou turned the knob exiting the office and strode out into the garage. A small man walked up to him with a transparent bag of clothes, hiding his face behind it. The only thing he could completely discern about the boy was his name written on the tag near his breast pocket, Ibiki.

“Here is your uniform. When you come back tomorrow, we’ll make a name tag for you.”

The cheery, blushing boy spoke, informing Garou of what he needs to do next. Taking the packet from his hands, Garou asked for a bag to put his new clothes in.

Ibiki scurried off to find a bag and retrieved an empty white one, filling it with the plastic packet.

“Thanks.”

Garou was about to walk out when he heard the kid call out to him.

“Hey Mister! You forgot to take our card. You’ll need the bosses number. See, right here. And this one’s mine!”

Ibiki pointed out the two separate cell numbers and Garou nodded. Ibiki placed a shaky hand on Garou’s shoulder and patted the spot, saying something along the lines of 'you’ll love working with us!’. Whatever, he doesn’t care, all he wanted to do was make your life a little bit easier.

>>

You had arrived home an hour ago, Garou nowhere in sight. You decided to shower and read a book while you waited for him to come home. You had already purchased lunch for the two of you on your way back, deciding that the contents in your fridge weren’t good enough to work with.

After Garou had shown up, things had turned for the better. It seemed like he brought you good luck wherever you went. You could recall the time when Garou wasn’t with you, and frankly, they weren’t the best. He made your life a lot more interesting than what it was before.

Standing up and stretching, you trailed towards your bedroom with your book in hand, opting to lay down comfortably and read. An hour and a half had passed and there was still no sign of Garou. But you had forgotten all about that. You munched on some chips in bed, flipping through the pages of your book, so immersed in it that your ears hadn’t caught the sound of your front door opening.

Garou walked into your shared home, taking off the jacket and scarf and hanging it behind the door. The bag which held his new uniform was hung in the wall closet in the living room. He washed himself up and looked around, expecting you to not be here as usual, but something caught his eye. Your work shoes! Weren’t you wearing these today?

Wait were you home…?

He looked around the house, checking each each and every room when he finally decided to check your bedroom.

Opening the door, he waltzed in, his eyes perceived you on your bed, laying on your stomach with your eyes glued to the book in your hand, potato chip hanging from your lips.

You still hadn’t noticed him in the room and he fully took advantage of that. Creeping around the edge of the bed, he stopped momentarily behind you. He licked his lips at the sight of your butt, clad in tight, black trousers. Without warning, he jumped onto you, his hips landing right on top of your ample behind, rough, trained hands gripping your hips to keep you in place.

You yelped in surprise, book flying across the bed as you jumped, or tried to, out of the way.

“W-where did you come from?!”

Your face twisted in annoyance as you asked.

“I should be asking you that. What are you doing home?”

Garou laid himself on top of you, his sharp chin resting on your head and fingers tightly grasping the mattress under you.

“I have the whole day off today! Now, will you please get off?”

Garou chuckled in excitement at your words, arms coming around to flip you over onto his chest as he turned himself over on his back.

“Never.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, relaxing down onto him.

“So, where were you this fine morning?”

Your question had not been answered for several seconds and you asked him again.

“Garou, where did you go?”

You turned around, still obove him, your chest to his. You gave him a questioning look, gesturing him to speak.

“Out.”

You quirked a brow, expression unamused.

“I know that!”

He sat up and hugged you, his sharp nose buried between you shoulder and neck, kissing the skin.

“With a friend.”

Garou said, eyes coming up to look at you, waiting for a response.

“Oh really? You have friends?”

He nodded hesitantly, avoiding direct eye contact.

Ok then, he was being weird… But you didn’t want to pry. What he does while he’s out is his business, there’s probably nothing to worry about. Its not like he’s cheating on you or anything, no, he would never do that, he’s not that kind of man.

>>

HE’S THAT KIND OF MAN!

How could he? I-, You- How?! You were just coming home early from work. Turns out your new position didn’t require you to stay for long hours like before, so you just opted to come home. You had to take the long way around this time, passing by all of the urban workshops and postal firms because your normal road was being repaired. You passed by a FedEx warehouse and you could’ve sworn you saw silver hair and a gorgeous body, belonging to none other than Garou.

That was him for sure! Oh, when you get your hands on him…

You stomped your foot in anger at the scene unfolding before you. Garou, undressing in the wide open garage, taking off the clothes you had bought for him, to put on some drab brown and black shirt and pants. A small man hanging off from his shoulder as Garou walked to the desk to…collect something? What is that…?

The fragile looking boy next to him stopped in front of his chest and took what seemed to be a small card and clipped it to the front of Garou’s shirt. He beamed at Garou and your boyfriend turned to pick up the boxes that were strewn around the warehouse and pack them into individual trucks.

Wait a second. Was he working? Garou was working! Ohhh, of course! Yeah, you never doubted him for a second…

You strolled towards them, unknown to the two inside the dark garage, hiding behind the tall stack of boxes. Playfully walking up behind him, the small man gently tapped Garou on the shoulder. He turned around, large boxes still in hand, obscuring his vision.

“What do ya’ want now, Ibiki?!”

Garou’s sudden outburst scared the young man accompanying him, making him jump back frightened.

“The uh… b-boss wanted to umm… know if you could work overtime. Y-you’ll be payed…”

Answered the trembling voice of 'Ibiki’.

“No, I got better things waiting for me at home…”

Garou’s soft answer made you tear up somewhat, and you smiled very gently. Turning your heel, you trecked back home to wait for him. Oh, you might as well set up a surprise for him!

And so, you sneaked away, racing home to start setting up decorations for your hard working man.

>>

It was around 2:00 in the afternoon when Garou had finally walked through the front door of your shared home. He let out a relaxed sigh and carefully hung his hat behind the wooden door rack and stretched. His shows had already been discarded near the doormat as he made his way over to the bathroom, passing by the living room decorated with fairy lights and a blanket fort.

Wait a second, fairy lights and a fort?! Did he walk into the wrong house?

He came closer to the blankets sprawled across the floor, getting on his knees and picking one up to inspect it, not expecting you to be under it waiting for him.

“SURPRISE!”

You jumped out from under all of the pillows and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing kisses to his cheeks.

“What’s all this? Yer’ home early again?”

Garou questioned, a confused expression on his handsome face.

“A surprise for you, duh…”

He smirked and coyly slid his arms under your legs, picking you up and setting you down onto his lap.

“No, really? What’s the occasion?”

You gave him a look as if saying, 'seriously?’

“Well, I was walking home from work and I couldn’t take my usual route. I walked past a few shops and I saw you…working. I was so surprised…”

Your voice got quieter as it neared the end and you awkwardly twiddled your thumbs, eyes casted downwards.

“Garou, why…why didn’t you just tell me you got a job?”

Garou let out a huff and ran his fingers through your hair. He looked deep into your eyes and cast you a cute little blush.

“W-well, I know how ya’ kinda freak out when I do…anything so I didn’t say nothin’. I just wanted to help out, ya’ get so tired after comin’ home. I ain’t gonna sit around and watch ya’ work yer’ ass off for me…”

Your fingers gently caressed his face, bringing it closer to yours.

“Garou, the reason I’m so tired after coming home is because I’m still adjusting to my new post at the office. I got promoted and I promise, once I get the hang of it, I won’t be tired at all.”

Garou’s mouth enveloped yours in a sweet exchange, hands roaming your hips.

“I’m really proud of you though…”

Garou broke into a genuine smile, no teasing smirk or smug grin. A genuine stretch of his lips.

“And what do you mean I kind of freak out? I do not!”

You pouted on his lap, crossing your arms and looking to the side.

“Ya’ just planned a surprise for me…”

You blushed and pulled his cheeks.

“Hey, this doesn’t count!”

He chuckled and smirked as you climbed off of his lap and onto the ground below.

“Now take off your clothes and get in here!”

>>

The rest of the afternoon was spent in bliss under a large warm blanket. The two of you lovingly cuddling together, watching movies and talking about Garou’s new workmates.

“So, this Ibiki kid follows me around everywhere, it’s kinda annoying to be honest.”

You laughed at his statement and pointed a finger at his chest.

“Well, he probably likes you. You are very handsome…”

He smirked and gave you a suggestive look, pulling your body closer to his under the blanket.

“Too bad I’m not available, right?”

You giggled at his response, snuggling into his warmth.

“Yes, too bad indeed…”

Giving you one last loving look, Garou kissed you passionately, his fingers caressing your cheek. Your own hand laid gently on his cheek, lips tightly locked with his.

Separating, the two of you breathed heavily and smiled.

“I love you…”

Garou softly admitted, giving you another one of his glorious genuine grins.

You happily blushed, hugging him close and whispered.

“I love you too. So much…”

And with that Garou kissed you again, feverishly, pulling the blanket above your heads, ready to take you to heaven.

It really couldn’t get better than this…

_________________________________________

[quijotine]

in which adrien is a science teacher and has to pay his karma by babysitting a teenager that has his exact same humor when he was 15.

Chapter 2 of Chat Noir Is My Science Teacher is up, friends :D

Ch. 2. Mr. Deep

In which Matt is baby and Adrien begins to pay his karma for being a lil shit when he was younger, with interest.

When Matthieu braced himself for the day, the last thing he expected to happen was learning that Mr. Dupain-Cheng, his science teacher, was none other than his idol, Chat Noir.

Yes, Mr. Dupain-Cheng, the dorky teacher who laughed at his own bad science puns and had a themed t-shirt for every day of the week. Mr. Dupain-Cheng, the man who thought grading with “You Tried” stars and cat stickers was funny. Mr. Dupain-Cheng, who was so gullible he didn’t notice when students wanted to distract him from giving a lesson by asking him about his wife because they knew he could rant about her for hours. Mr. Dupain-Cheng, the only teacher that replied with an ‘ok :)’, a meme, and the signature, ‘Sent from my cat-phone,’ when replying to a well-thought email. That Mr. Dupain-Cheng.

How could this be possible? He was so... so uncool .

Read below the cut or on AO3 by clicking the link above.

When Matthieu braced himself for the day, the last thing he expected to happen was learning that Mr. Dupain-Cheng, his science teacher, was none other than his idol, Chat Noir.

Yes, Mr. Dupain-Cheng, the dorky teacher who laughed at his own bad science puns and had a themed t-shirt for every day of the week. Mr. Dupain-Cheng, the man who thought grading with “You Tried” stars and cat stickers was funny. Mr. Dupain-Cheng, who was so gullible he didn’t notice when students wanted to distract him from giving a lesson by asking him about his wife because they knew he could rant about her for hours. Mr. Dupain-Cheng, the only teacher that replied with an ‘ok :)’, a meme, and the signature, ‘Sent from my cat-phone,’ when replying to a well-thought email. That Mr. Dupain-Cheng.

How could this be possible? He was so... so uncool .

When Matt thought about who Chat Noir might be under his mask he always pictured someone bold and dashing, maybe one of those cool guys that worked in those crazy science startups. Someone brave, fearless... not a father of two who, Matt was pretty sure, screeched one time a flying cockroach somehow crawled from one of the sinks in the lab. He pictured someone like Barbara Keynes or Peter Parker.

They were witty and mysterious. Mr. Dupain-Cheng was too nice to be a superhero.

“Matt!” Timo tackled him into a hug as Matthieu and Mr. Dupain-Cheng joined the rest of the class. Ladybug had finished handing out autographs to his classmates and had already left. “Are you okay? Did you see the Akuma? It was so sick!”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Matthieu muttered, as Mr. Dupain-Cheng pointedly put as much distance between himself and Matt. He called the class’ attention to continue their museum visit.

“You’re in danger, kid.” His teacher’s words still resounded in Matthieu’s head. “For your own safety, lay low until I decide what to do with this, okay?”

He didn’t give Matt a chance to ask any questions, to say anything. He basically wanted him to ignore this, to act as if he had just found him practicing some obscure hobby outside school.

As they walked, Matt trained his eyes on the back of his teacher’s head, the blond, messy mop of hair towering over the group of teens.

“Hey, Timo?”

“Yeah?”

“Mr. Deep is, like, a nerd, right?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty cool,” Timo said, his attention more invested in his portable video game console than in the conversation. “He knows, like, all the animes.”

“That’s not cool,” said Matt.

“Of course it is,” Timo said, finally peeling his eyes off the screen. “We like that stuff.”

Timo had a point, Matthieu had to admit.

“And remember the time he helped me solder that motherboard we used for the robot competition? That was pretty cool.”

“I... suppose.”

Timo shrugged, blissfully unaware of Matt’s current crisis. “I keep telling you, man,” he said, returning to his videogame. “Mr. Deep is the coolest teacher at school.”

After the field trip, Matt went home stuck in a contemplative trance, wanting to decide what the revelation was that truly bothered him: the fact that Chat Noir’s civilian persona was absolutely nothing like what he had pictured, or that Timo was right and the reason why he disliked Mr. Dupain-Cheng was actually because he looked up to him, and that he embodied the complete opposite of everything Matt was taught to be.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense, to be honest. As any self-respecting fan, Matthieu knew Chat Noir’s career by heart. He had seen those old clips of him as a teenager, cracking witty jokes and one-liners in the middle of battle. It kind of made sense that he’d grow up to be the kind of man that was unapologetically chaotic. Besides, those memes and punny cat stickers he liked to grade with? Suddenly it seemed all so obvious. It was almost as if Mr. Dupain-Cheng was flaunting the truth in front of everyone, knowing no one would peg him as the kind of man who was a superhero. It was all in the same way no one seemed to understand how on earth such a whacky dude would end up with one of the most successful designers in Paris.

Matt suddenly shot up from the comfort of his bed as he contemplated his thoughts.

Ladybug. Weren’t Ladybug and Chat Noir a couple?

Oh my god, is Mr. Dupain-Cheng cheating on his wife with Ladybug? Or backwards? Wait... Isn’t that famous designer his wife? What’s her name, MDC? No, that’s the brand. Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Wait.

Does his wife even know? Oh, no... Poor woman! Wait... what if...

Matt gasped. “She’s Ladybug. She has to be.”

He paced around his room, his thoughts going a thousand miles an hour. “I can never let Hawkmoth akumatize me ever again,” he screeched, grabbing handfuls of his hair. “Oh my god!” he shrieked. “Okay, Matt, breathe. Breathe. Just... Think. Okay. This can be good, right? This can be good.”

He kept pacing around.

“Okay, Matt. Okay. You just figured out that Mr. Deep is Chat Noir and his wife is Ladybug... Cool, it’s all cool,” he said to himself in a pitch heightened by the sheer panic that coursed through him. “It’s okay, it’s—.”

He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks as inspiration struck. He gasped excitedly and immediately got on his knees to reach under his bed.

“Of course!” he exclaimed, pulling out a small corkboard he kept hidden under the bed. The board was an indulgent little project if he did say so himself. It wasn’t related to any of his school activities, which is why he had to keep it hidden. Goodness knows what his parents would do if they found out he had been wasting time investigating who Hawkmoth might be.

This wasn’t bad, this was great!

I can help him! Matt thought excitedly. I can help him and Ladybug track Hawkmoth down!

He took a few shots of it with his phone to then ferociously kick it out of view, back under the bed again, when his mother entered his room.

“What are you doing on the floor, Matthieu?” Mrs. Magan, a middle-aged woman with stern eyes, said to him.

“I... lost a coin.”

Mrs. Magan frowned, not making much of the excuse. “Dinner is ready.”

Matthieu let out a silent sigh of relief as his mother turned around, then quickly followed after her, knowing better than to have her remind him a second time.

I can help him, he thought again excitedly. I can be his sidekick!

—-

Matthieu was not one to be late for school, but the day after discovering Mr. Deep’s identity he decided to be extra early, just to make sure he’d be able to talk to him in private. There was always the risk that he’d be late of course, but now that Matthieu knew the reason, he could hardly hold it against him.

Matt was lucky enough to spot him in the Chemistry lab when he arrived. He peeked through the small window on the door. it seemed he was grading papers.

He grinned and immediately went in, hardly being able to contain his excitement.

“Good morning, Mr. Dupain-Cheng!” he exclaimed enthusiastically, causing Adrien to jolt and knock some of the paper sheets to the ground. Matt rushed to pick them up before Adrien had the chance to do so. “So listen, I have thoughts ,” he said as he put the papers back on the desk and fumbled with his backpack to produce his phone. “I was up all night updating my Hawkmoth board, and I was thinking—I was thinking that maybe, you know this philanthropist, Lila Rossi—”

Adrien could only stare dumbfounded at how fast Matt rambled before he even caught the drift of what he was saying. Once he registered it though, he jolted once again.

“Shh!” Adrien hushed at the teen, frantically looking around himself to see if anyone was in the vicinity—even though the door was closed.

“Matthieu, what are you talking about?” he hissed.

“I wanna help you track Hawkmoth!” Matthieu piped with a bright smile, reaching into his backpack again to produce his phone. “Last night, I was thinking, ‘Hey, maybe this happened for a reason.’ I’m pretty good at this whole deduction thing, you know? I’m at the top of the class in almost all subjects and I have like, all the badges possible on the Ladyblog. Also, look, I have this board that I made about all the possible suspects because if you look at the akumatizations there’s a real pattern, and I’m thinking that whoever Hawkmoth might be, has some stuff to work through, because oh my god. Oh, like, this person he—”

“Matthieu, keep your voice down!” Adrien interrupted him. “No! I can’t let you do that. What happened yesterday was an accident, kid. Okay? It’s best if you just... If you just try to pretend like you don’t know anything while Ladybug and I decide what to do. This isn’t a game, Matt. You are in danger. If Hawkmoth ever lays hands on you, there’s no telling what might happen. Stay. Away. From. This.”

Undeterred by the ominous delivery of Mr. Dupain-Cheng’s warning, Matthieu beamed at him. “Don’t worry, Mr. Deep! I’m good at keeping secrets! I—”

“No. It is out of the question, Matthieu. This is dangerous and I—wait, what did you just call me?” Adrien said, suddenly catching the nickname.

Matthieu grew red in the face and smiled sheepishly at his teacher. “Mr. Deep... You know, ‘cause you’re always, like, going off these crazy deep tangents about the physics of akumas and stuff and—Oh my god, that makes so much sense now! Do you study them in your free time? Oh, wow! Do you and Miss Ladybug have a secret layer? Like Majestia and Knight Owl? Wait, actually, don’t answer that. Sensitive information, am I right? Oh! Also, I think Mr. Deep really fits you because you always give us this weirdly specific and deep life advice? And I don’t know how you do it but it’s always on point? Also, your name starts with a D...”

Adrien looked at the boy, shocked, and frankly a little scared that a kid could talk so much, so fast. There’s only one other person he had ever known whose mouth ran like a broken faucet if she was given the chance.

Wait , Adrien thought. Did... did he just pun with my name?

A part of him was flattered, another was surprised, a third one was slightly insulted.

The kid punned with my name. I’m his teacher !

“Matt!” he exclaimed, interrupting Matthieu’s spoken stream of consciousness. “No. This is final. Stay away from this. I don’t want to have to repeat myself. It is final.”

Again, unfazed by Adrien’s effort to act seriously, Matthieu beamed at him. “Don’t worry, Mr. Deep. I’ll prove you can trust me! I would not trust me, too, if I were you. But I’ll prove it! You’ll see.”

The bell rang, and with it came a thankful end to the conversation. At least on Adrien’s side.

“And don’t call me Mr. Deep.”

“Okay, Mr. Deep!” Matthieu said, beaming at him as he made his way out of the classroom. “Oops! I mean, Mr. DC.”

Adrien sighed, glaring at the boy and feeling some sort of karmic entity laughing at him. He knew exactly what Matt’s energetic yet jesterly energy reminded him of: a sixteen-year-old version of himself whose favorite pastime was seeing how much foolery he could get away with before Ladybug decided to murder him in cold blood.

“It’s your karma,” Plagg muttered quietly before his students began pouring into the classroom. “Kid’s your spitting image. Though I gotta say, he blabbers as much as Spots.”

“Oh, shush it!”

“You know you have to tell her soon, right?” Plagg muttered from inside Adrien’s overshirt. “The more you delay, the deeper your grave.”

“I said shush.”

The little god snickered. “Someone’s in trouble.”

Plagg was right, though. Adrien had to tell Marinette about this. It was already bad that he didn’t tell her the moment it happened. She hated it when he did that. But in his defense, he knew she had a tough day at the label and he didn’t want to freak her out. He hoped that excuse would be enough. Plagg had laughed at him when he asked for his opinion about it.

Yeah, he was in trouble.

There was no way but through, he knew this. That didn’t mean his legs could tell the difference between an honest conversation with his life partner and the visceral fear for his survival that was elicited at the image of said conversation. He felt them buckle as he casually leaned against the kitchen island, trying his best to act natural.

The kids had been put to bed and there was thankfully no Akuma in sight. At least not yet.

Marinette sighed with relief as she swiftly undid her hair and reached into the fridge for a bottle of wine. If Adrien hadn’t been so terrified by what he was about to do, he’d allow himself to swoon at her.

Witnessing Marinette shed the tiredness of the day as she swapped into comfortable clothes—usually loose shirts and yoga pants— and poured her drink of choice was one of his favorite things to watch. It didn’t matter that they had been living together for a little over seven years now, he’d never get tired of watching her exist.

“You want some?” Marinette said as she stood on her tiptoes to reach the shelf where they kept the wine glassware.

“Yeah, sure,” Adrien said, then continued speaking after thanking his wife for the wine. “You’ll never guess what happened today.”

“What?” she said, clinking her glass against his before taking the first sip.

“A kid punned with my name.”

Marinette chuckled. “Really? What did he call you?”

“Mr. Deep.”

Marinette snorted as she took another sip from the glass.

“He said it’s because I like to go on deep tangents and because my name starts with a D. Kid can’t pun to save his life.”

Marinette smirked at him. “You’re one to talk.”

He dropped his jaw. “I can’t believe you just asked me for a divorce, m’lady.”

Marinette rolled her eyes and smiled, walking past him on the way to the couch. She placed her wine glass on a small side table and pulled out a sketchbook from one of its drawers. She busied herself reviewing her work while Adrien gathered the courage to nudge the conversation in the direction it needed to go.

“M’lady?” he said from behind her.

“What did you do,” Marinette replied immediately, as she flipped through the pages of the sketchbook.

”I— why do you always assume I did something?”

Marinette turned around and mocked him, then gave him a knowing smirk. “It’s in your tone, Chaton. You can’t lie.”

“I am an excellent liar, I’ll have you know.” He stopped himself from bragging further, seeing as Marinette frowned.

“What is it, Adrien? What happened?”

Adrien’s palms were sweating with anxiety. He gulped. “First of all, I love you and you know that, right?”

“Adrien,” Marinette said, her voice hitching up her tone.

“It’s nothing bad . I mean, it’s a ‘could be worse’ sort of situation.”

“ Adrien !”

“Hypothetically speaking, imagine... what if, er... one of the wielders accidentally revealed himself to someone who, uh, someone who absolutely shouldn’t know? Hypothetically speaking.”

“Adrien, what did you DO ?” Marinette screeched.

[mooswords]

More than enough

Pairing: semi eita x reader

Word count: 3.4k

Tags: musican au, fluff + soft-angst? its a happy ending i promise

Ramblings: this was going to be something short based around the masterpiece that is sk8er boi but it very quickly got out of hand rip ✌️

---

"You're just not what we were looking for."

"I understand, thank you for your time."

--

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you'd fit in with us."

"I understand, thank you for your time."

--

"You're obviously talented, we're just not looking for an artist like you right now."

"I understand, thank you for your time."

--

“Look, you don’t quite fit our brand.”

The worst part is that rejection doesn’t even sting anymore. It's always the same story - they love his music, but not him. 

Semi has never been one to shape himself to the expectations of others. He had refused to march in time at Shiratorizawa and it cost him his place in the starting line up. But he had thought, maybe somewhat naively, that with his music he could be both someone he was proud of and someone they’d want to hire. 

Apparently not.

“I understand, thank-”

“Um… I think he’d be a great fit.”

Your voice is firm but you're obviously nervous, barely able to meet the eye of the producer as she swings around to you, unimpressed. 

"I just…" you wet your lips, try again, "He's something different, and that's really cool. Of course, there'd have to be some changes but-" you dart a look at him- "maybe we should give him a chance."

"Oh, is that so?" your boss scoffs. "You want me to sign him because you think that he maybe deserves a chance?"

Semi takes a proper look at you - shaking hands clutched around the tablet in your lap, earnestness written all over your face - perhaps the first person in this unforgiving industry to show any sort of support for him. Not exactly the influential executive he'd been hoping for, but hey, it's nice to be acknowledged once in a while.

You suck in a breath, your posture straightening. "I know he's good enough. It would be our loss to turn him away." 

And Semi is flattered. Honestly, he is. But this is a well-trodden path for him, and right now, he'd rather leave this too-clean office, get back into his beat-up car that still smells like the soft drink Tendou spilt last week and just go home. Feel sorry for himself before facing the arduous process of picking up the scattered pieces of his pride yet again.

The producer shakes her head. “You know the types of artists the label is looking for, and it's not him."

"But he could be! Please, I-” you stand abruptly. “I‘ll take full responsibility. Give me… a month. I’ll put together a demo and figure out a brand for him. I can make this work, and we both know he’s got real talent."

Semi is flicking between the two of you. He's not quite sure if he's on board with what's happening, but the producer looks like she's actually considering it, and this is the first time he's had any sort of a chance.

"OK,” she relents. “ OK, I will give you a month.” 

His eyes dart to yours because, to be honest, he didn’t think- 

“But.” The producer eyes him, then you. “If he is not good enough in a month, both of you are out of here. Got it?"

You share a look, a mutual recognition of how much is riding on this.

"Got it." 

--

You properly introduce yourself the next morning in one of the spacious studios, passing him a takeaway cup of coffee and a to-do list that stretches on forever.

"So, you're going to need to write a song - obviously,” you start briskly. “But first, I need to know what size clothes you wear, what instruments you play and if you can dance. You're also going to need to stop cutting your hair. I can-"

"Sorry, you want me to what?"

"Stop cutting your hair, keep up."

"What's wrong with my hair!?"

Your eyes lazily flick over him. He hopes he hasn't gone as red as he feels. "It’s fine, it’s just going to look better when it’s longer." 

"How do you know what I’ll look like with long hair?" Semi splutters. 

You grin at him from under your lashes, a new relaxed confidence to your moves today. "It's my job. Anyway, back to the important things-"

By the time said important things have been covered, Semi's head is a jumbled mess. He desperately needs more caffeine. You go to continue, but one look at him has you pulling an apologetic face. 

"I know it seems like a lot, but you're going to do great. Is there anything you wanted me to clarify? Before we keep going?”

A million questions are ricocheting around his head, but the one that slips out is "Why are you helping me?"

Your gaze drops. “To be honest, it’s as much for you as it is for me.” Looking a touch embarrassed, you shrug. “This could be the break I need to finally move on from just being an assistant. But your music is good. Really good, and... look, you aren’t an artist the label would normally sign, but you have this… energy I think the world will love, and I wanted to be a part of that I guess.”

There’s resolve in your eyes, even as your fingers twist together. You exude a brand of hopeful passion; a joy that dulled for him long ago, a sacrifice that had to be made just so he could survive the setbacks. He hadn't dared let himself hope that this strange opportunity could lead anywhere, but maybe the two of you could make this work.

“Well, when you say it like that…” Semi grins when you meet his gaze. He can already feel the excitement building again in his chest. He’s missed it, he thinks wistfully. 

“Let’s do this.”

--

A month has never felt shorter, and he's not sure if either of you slept more than a few hours at once. He has learnt a lot though - how to use the enormous mixing board in the studio, that he apparently looks very good in red, the value of networking and connections in this fickle industry.

(He’d also learnt how you look curled up on his sofa, about your deep-set fondness for fantasy movies and the way you hum to yourself when you’re deep in thought, but he’s trying not to think about that.)

The producer is quiet, her head nodding along softly to the beat filtering through the headphones. She’s leafing through the outlines and photos the two of you had poured your everything into. Those few pages have to be enough. You had said he was good enough and he desperately needs you to be right, because if you aren’t-

“I’m impressed.” Your boss’ voice is begrudging as she pulls the headphones from her ears, “This is better than I was expecting.” 

Maybe he's enough. 

He's fighting the urge to grab your hand because you look like you're going to faint, and he might not be far behind you.

"Thank you." 

Your voice is shaky, hopeful.

Maybe-

“But it’s not enough.”

It's gut-wrenching. It hasn’t stung like this in so long the pain is almost foreign; this feeling of rejection, this weight in his stomach pulling him back down to square one. And as the abject confusion on your face gives way to incredulous anger, he thinks maybe the worst part is that it’s not just him being rejected this time.

“What do you mean it’s not enough? We-”

“-are not good enough,” the producer cuts in, matter-of-fact and unruffled. “For a month’s worth of work, it isn’t bad. It’s just that I’m still not convinced that he can be everything you say he is.”

Semi grabs at your arm as you lunge forward. He sends you a sad smile when you spin to face him. “It’s ok. I always knew this wa-”

"No.” Your eyes are ablaze. He can remember that feeling - back when rejection felt like sheer fury and not a resigned numbness. “No, that song- you are good and we all know it. You deserve a place here, she-” you jab a finger at the woman still seated behind the desk, “just can’t see your worth.”

Warmth curls around his heart. He’s going to miss your spitfire passion. “Seriously, it’s OK. Thank you though. For believing in me."

He faces the producer. “I… I hope you would consider keeping your assistant on.” He can hear your head snap towards him, “You said you were impressed with her work, and I saw more than anyone how much effort she put into this. She deserves recognition for it... yeah. Thank you for your time.”

He moves for the door, trying not to think about how empty his apartment will be without your papers and coffee cups strewn about. There is a small consolation in that you might get something from all this, but still. He'd really thought that-

“I quit.” 

"What?" Both Semi and the producer whirl to look at you. 

You blink up at your former boss. “I quit.” It’s firmer this time, but your hand trembles as you tug on his arm. “C'mon Semi, let's go.”

"Wha- no!" He splutters, even as you march out towards the elevators. He pulls you into a hallway, stares down at you in confusion and horror. 

"This is your chance! Why would you… don't just throw it away like this. Not for me."

You look dazed. "I’m done. I’ve worked here for years now, and let's be real, I was never going to get anywhere with her anyway. Besides,” you grin up at him. There’s no trace of regret on your face, and the gleam in your eye has the beginnings of a new melody itching at the back of his mind. “We are going to prove her wrong. You are more than enough Semi Eita.”

You pull away from him, gleefully calling race you to the elevator! over your shoulder. He gives chase, purposely bumping into you, laughing as you slide over the polished floor. And looking at your flushed face and breathless smile as the elevator doors close, he thinks maybe square one might not be so bad with you down here next to him.

--

"We aren't looking to take on an artist like you right now."

He writes more songs. You write more emails.

--

The lights are dim in the small, dingy studio, and honestly, it feels like the two of you have been here forever. You're trying to remember if that coffee place down the road still does 24-hour delivery as Semi groans from under the arm flung over his face, legs heavy across your lap. You poke him in the stomach and he peers out at you, pouting.

“Hey have some respect please, I’m moping.”

���Oh, terribly sorry, I couldn’t tell from the whining and general lack of writing.”

He pokes his tongue out and pulls a face at you. “Shuddup, writing songs is hard.”

“Mmm, not like it’s your job or anything.” 

His pout intensifies and you force yourself to suppress the smile threatening the corners of your mouth, ducking as he throws the pen hanging loosely from his hand at you. 

“You’re the worst.” 

You allow yourself to grin at him this time. “Maybe, but we only paid to have this studio for another" you check your phone, "three hours and then we’re going to get kicked out, so you need to come up with something."

He finally lifts his head, and it really should be illegal - this deadly combination of finger-raked hair, bleary eyes and rumpled shirt. You poke him in the stomach again.

“Fine! Fine, gimme my pen back.” You scrabble around for it and strictly don’t think about the warmth of his fingers over yours as he takes it. Pulling his legs off your lap, he theatrically flicks to a page in his notebook resting on the battered table and begins writing.

“My manager… sucks…” 

“Hey!”

“Because… she is… really... mean...”

“Noooo, give me that!” You lunge for the notebook, but he pulls it out of reach and smirks down at you.

“Oh, so now you’re interested in helping me write this song? I see how it is.”

It’s your turn to pout, still flailing for the notebook until you meet his eyes and oh he’s really close. There’s a fleeting moment where neither of you does anything, frozen. You swallow, watching his eyes dart down. You've been here before - not here exactly, but here, in these moments of breathless potential. 

(And maybe you're a coward for not doing anything because there have always been hints, little notations he leaves scattered across the score of your partnership. You've always been the second line, the bass to his treble, but a duet only works when both lines move together - you don't want to be the one who falls out of beat.) 

You pull yourself away, moving to clear away the takeout containers and throw what you hope is an unaffected smile over your shoulder. 

“Come on Semi, it’s just one more song. You got this. You always write about things that mean a lot to you. Just… think of that one thing you really want to share with the world.”

He chuckles, a breathy thing that curls around the room.

“Trying to get me to spill all my secrets, huh?”

You commit this image of him to memory - the fondness in his eyes, here in this tiny studio at who knows what hour of the morning.

"Something like that."

--

“You just aren’t right for us.”

He buys the coffee this time. You promise to pay next time.

--

He walks into the third record label this week. You wait hopefully outside. 

It's always the same result, but you still wait for him every time. And every time he shakes his head your heart breaks a little more, another rejection to add to the pile. But he's always been a fighter, and you were never a quitter. So every time, you pull each other off the ground, dust yourself off and try again. 

It's drizzly outside today. You wait, standing under the meagre protection of an umbrella.

He walks out and you brace for the inevitable fall. 

But when he looks up your heart skips a beat because he's smiling, and you're half disbelieving when he nods and then you're flying into the rain and throwing yourself into his arms as he laughs.

(And you can't meld words and melodies the way he can, but you think you could write songs about that sound forever.)

"You did it!" you squeal, and his grin is pure joy as he spins you in a circle.

"No, we did it." 

--

You're always backstage before a concert, so the looks you've been getting all afternoon from the crew are odd. You have half a mind to ask Semi about it, but in the mayhem of a lost guitar and last-minute phone calls, the only time you see him is just before he runs onto stage. 

Slipping your arms around him, you squeeze what encouragement you can into the brief hug. He considers you with that half-smile you have come to adore so much before he swoops down, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You catch his make sure you listen to the last song over the noise of the crowd before he dashes off. 

Maybe he… no, don’t be ridiculous. You scoff at the fantasy, try to push away the hope building in your chest. 

Why were you nervous? You weren’t even on stage. Yet your heart is insisting on recounting every cheesy movie you've ever seen, and it doesn’t help that you watched one with him last night, and it really doesn’t help that all you can think about is how you woke up this morning with the weight of his head on your shoulder.

Your head and heart battle the entire show, fear and anticipation blurring together in-

"Alright! I have a bit of a surprise for everyone tonight." Semi grins, sharp and full of adrenalin. The crowd screams. You barely manage to pull the drumming of your heart back into line. 

"This is a new song I wrote at… some ridiculous hour of the morning. I was told to write about the thing I most wanted to tell the world and I, uhh… well, it's for someone special, but I wanted to share it with you guys too."

He starts to play, but the opening chords are… new?

Semi has a habit of lounging in your office in the late afternoon, feeling out harmonies and half-realized lyrics as you work. You often hear strains of those afternoon experiments appear months later in his albums, but these chords are different. There's a major progression mixed in with the bass line that isn't quite his usual style; a little sweeter perhaps. And then he starts to sing, voice husky from the long show. The lyrics are quintessential Semi - simple, nothing incredibly poetic, but nonetheless heartfelt and genuine. 

It takes until the end of the second chorus for you to let yourself believe what he's saying. 

You hadn't heard Semi sing a love song quite like this before, and it is doing funny things to your chest. Because you can hear the smile in his tone, and he's singing about late nights and spinning in the rain and fantasy movies and... maybe this song is for you. Maybe you hadn't read the music wrong, maybe he-

You cut that thought off. Pressing your lips together, you force yourself to slip away as the final note is overtaken by yells and applause. 

(You may have been bold enough to stake your entire career on a maybe, but him? You can't risk losing him to a maybe.)

--

He finds you in the goldilocks studio. You had dubbed it that not long after he had signed with the new label - not too big, not too small. He had rolled his eyes when you first suggested it, but the name had stuck.

"I thought you might be in here."

"Oh, hey." You force yourself to meet his eye. "Nice job tonight. I’ve never heard a crowd so vocal."

He still looks every part the performer - hair wild beyond belief, stage make-up smudged - and technically, you're still on the clock. But right now, here in the soft haze of the studio lights, he’s just a boy and you're just a girl.

He chuckles, "Yeah, I’m glad they liked the new song, though…” he trails off, “I really only care about one person’s opinion of that song.”

There's hopeful apprehension in every line of his body.

"Semi…"

You brace for the fall.

"Semi, who was… was that song for me?”

“I didn't think I could make it any more obvious," he huffs, hand tucked up behind his neck. “I mean if you didn't like it that's fine. I just couldn't think of a good way to tell you, but that night when you said to write about what I wanted to say it… all came out I guess. And you don’t have to-”

You kiss him. It’s quick, barely a few seconds before you pull away. You’re perhaps just as surprised as he is, wide-eyed and flustered. 

His face breaks into a disbelieving smile. "Yeah?"

Your lips quirk up of their own accord. “Yeah.”

He stares for a beat before reaching for you, one hand coming up to cup your cheek. You meet him in the middle and slip your arms around his neck, feeling his smile widen when he kisses you, feeling your heart skip a beat and fall into rhythm with his.

“I do have… one question though…” he asks, hushed as he pulls back. 

“Mmm?” you hum, distracted with his nose still brushing yours.

“How did you not realise the song is about you? I mean-” gleeful mischief fills his voice and you groan, flopping backwards out of his arms, "-come on, I basically said everything but your name."

"I didn't want to assume, OK?" you whine, pulling yourself back up to face him. The glare you send him lacks heat, and he just chuckles, shifting closer again.

“I’ll make it clearer for you in the next one then.”

“The next one huh?” The playful fondness in your tone overwhelms him. He can feel the pink flush across his cheeks, warmer than any rush the stage could give him.

“Yeah, I mean… I’ve already got more songs about you, but I think I might have some new inspiration now.”

“Oh, is that so?” you question, smile somehow widening.

Lyrics are easy, real words are harder. He doesn’t know how to explain that his brain has been writing stanzas about you since you met, but he can’t quite pinpoint when his heart took over.

He settles on “yep” and kisses you again. 

It's unhurried, unconcerned. There's no more maybes, no more doubts. It's just you, and him, and the grounding certainty the two of you are more than enough.