#i only managed chapter 20 today | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

doitforbangchan · 4 months ago

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All Bark and No Bite - 20

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Chapter Warnings: Afab/fem reader, violence (poorly written), character deaths, blood, weapons (knives, gun, shovel), choking, angst, cursing, crying, name calling, kissing, suggestive- I want to start with an apology to Atiny bc this is nooooot good for them tbh

WC: 12.7k

“Please?”

“No, baby.”

“Please?”

“I said no, omega.”

“But why?”

“This is a serious deal, I don’t need my pretty omega to be a distraction.”

Chan's words made you lip wobble and you cast your head down as you blinked back tears. You had asked -more like begged- to join him today. You heard him sigh and step away from where he was fixing his hair in the mirror and he turned to you. He tenderly held your face in his hands and lifted your gaze back up to his.

“What I mean baby, is I don’t know what kind of people these potential buyers are. I would rather you be here with the pack where I know you're safe and sound. Okay?” The alpha was pumping out calming pheromones in an attempt to sooth you and make you more agreeable. You breathed in the dizzying scent and immediately felt better. You nodded and only had a mild pout remaining on your lips. He chuckled and gave you a gentle kiss to your head before turning back to looking in the mirror.

He looked good. He was dressed in black dress pants that hugged his meaty thighs just right, and a white button down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons were undone, giving a peak of his broad chest underneath. He paired the outfit with a pair of black Prada dress shoes and a gold chain around his neck that glimmered in the reflection. Overall his look screamed old money.

You would have jumped his bones if you hadn’t been so anxious. Ever since you woke up this morning there has been this gnawing uneasiness that had been plaguing you that you couldn’t explain. Chan had to go a few towns over to show a big property for some potential buyers. Something in you didn’t want to see your alpha leave today. Or at the least you wanted him to bring you. You and chan had chalked it up to omega hormones but deep down you knew it was something else. Something more sinister.

“I’ll miss you today.” You murmured, casting your gaze to his now pushed back hair then flickering over to his face where you caught his poorly contained grin.

“Aww I’ll miss you more, Baby. I’ll be thinking of you the whole time I’m gone.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, “Yeah right. The only thing on your mind is how much money your company is going to make from this deal.”

Chan gasped dramatically, acting hurt. “That’s not true! You are always the main thing on my mind. I’d say 80 percent of my thoughts are about how much I miss and love you.”

You pouted again, “Oh yeah? What’s the other 20 percent?”

“How much I can’t wait to spoil my baby and my pack with the huge payout.” He grinned at you cheekily and gave you a wink.

You giggled, “You know the boys would be stoked to hear you say that. Still, you’ll be gone practically all day. Whatever shall I do with myself, hmm?” ”

Suddenly he snapped his fingers as if he had a great idea.

“I have a great idea!” Oh he was so cute. The alpha took out his phone and typed something quickly then he shoved it back in his pocket. “There, now you won’t be bored.” He seemed pleased with himself.

“What did you do?” You asked, narrowing your eyes in inquiry and crossing your arms. Literally a second later there was a knock on the door of Chan's room. “Channieee what did you do?”

He smirked at you and raised his hands in defense, “Nothing nothing! Come on in!” He called out.

Slowly the door creaked open and the epitome of blue haired happiness peaked his head in, offering you a heart melting smile. “Good morning, sunshine.”

No matter how many times you’ve seen those freckles they still managed to give you butterflies. “Morning Lixie. What are you up to?”

A flash of confusion went over his face, then he looked to Chan quickly then back to you. “I’m here to pick you up? Aren’t we going to the farmers market this morning?”

Your eyes lit up in excitement, “Really?!”

Both men chuckled at how easily excitable you were- they found it endearing and it just made them love you even more (if that was even possible). It seems like Chan's little distraction method was already working.

“Yes Baby. I thought it would be fun for you and Lix to go out for a while.” Chan said, placing a kiss on your forehead. Then he looked down at his watch, seeing it was already ten am. “I gotta get going, I meet with the clients at noon and it takes about a little more than an hour or so if there's no traffic. Plus there's a coffee shop I like to stop by when I go.” he gave you a cheeky kiss on your lips then a hard smack to your ass as he passed. Earning him a loud ‘HEY!’. He laughed and sped out before he could face your wrath. “I love you! Have fun with Felix! That’s an order!”

You rolled your eyes with a huff, then you sarcastically saluted him. “Sir yes sir.”

“Save the ‘sir’ talk for Min.” Chan snickered leaving the room, giving Felix a pat on the back as he went.

Felix stepped fully into the room now. He was dressed casually in a pair of wide leg jeans and an oversized white baggy tank. It was a good look on him, especially with his hair tied back. “Are you ready to go, love?”

You were already dressed and ready for the day, donning a long white sundress that had a pink floral design and a corseted top. You felt something was missing though. “Hmm.. gimme one second Lix - OH I KNOW!” You snapped your fingers then ran to the closet, quickly pulling out a floppy white sun hat. You put it on your head proudly and turned back to Felix.

He held up two thumbs up and had a wide smile, “Perfect farmers market outfit!”

You beamed back, “Thanks Lixie. I’m ready for our date now.”

A deep blush appeared on his face and up to his ears and he couldn’t get rid of the giddiness in his expression. ‘Our date…’ Felix liked the sound of that. He looped arms with you and led you out of the house.

The market was surprisingly bustling. There were many different stalls set up with vendors selling all kinds of home grown fruits and veggies, along with some selling baked goods and garden starters.

The both of you were having a great time together. You had already drinken a fresh smoothie from a food truck near the beginning. Each of you had gotten a different flavor and had shared both. They were delicious and a great way to beat the ever growing heat.

You were telling Felix about your plans for some of the produce when a little girl no older than three years old ran past you, being playfully chased by an older boy who looked to be about six. They ran past laughing and giggling and it brought a smile to your face. You knew they had to be siblings by the way they both had chunky cheeks and light brown hair. It made you wonder what your future kids will look like . ‘Will they have my eyes? Chans nose perhaps? Maybe little pouty lips?’ Subconsciously you brought a hand up to rest over your stomach.

“Are you alright, love?”

Felixs words brought you out of your head, and his gentle face appeared in front of you. He noticed your hand had moved to your midsection.

“Yeah, m’ fine Lixie.” You offered a small smile and he raised a brow like he didn’t believe you. “It’s just..” You looked down nervously. “Do you think Channie would wanna start our family soon?”

Felix almost felt his heart break at your crestfallen face. But then all at once it was rebuilt again. ‘She wants a baby? She would be so adorable with a pregnant belly.’

“Oh omega..” He cooed and lifted your head with his free hand. You didn’t want to meet his eyes but you knew that’s what he was looking for so tearfully you did. “I know for a fact that Alpha will want to give you pups, he’s wanted to be a dad his whole life. Most of us have. It’s only a matter of time before he’s ready. I think maybe he wants you to be ready first.”

You nodded, “I think you’ll all make wonderful fathers.”

He nuzzled your nose with his own, “And you’ll make an amazing mother. Plus you’ll be extra cute when you're all round and waddling around.” He pressed a cheeky peck to your lips. “Even imagining it is driving me crazy. If Chan doesn’t hurry up I may have to do it myself.”

You snorted and pulled back, “Yeah because defying him and taking things into your own hands worked out so well last time.”

He grimaced remembering how terrible it was to not be able to touch you. “On second thought, maybe we’ll wait a while.” You laughed then returned to browsing. Almost immediately your attention was off the previous subject.

“OOO look at those! They’re huge!” You exclaimed and pointed at the massive watermelons in front of you . They had to be the biggest fruits you had ever seen in your life and you knew you had to have it. You looked at Felix with puppy dog eyes, asking for permission to get one of these giant melons.

The beta looked down at all the things you had already gotten; his arms held bags full of squashes, berries, breads and goods galore (he had demanded he hold the bags for you no matter what you bought). He sighed, knowing he would never be able to tell you no but dreading having to carry that around. “Ok baby, anything for you. Pick whatever one you want.”

You critically examined each melon, then pointed at the one that looked the best to you. “Ahh good pick young lady.” The old man at the stall rubbed his beard. “That one is about 40 pounds and should be one of the sweetest ones.”

You clasped your hands together and handed him some money (that Felix was gracious enough to let you hold on to; to make you feel like you're contributing), “That’s so heavy!”

The beta dreaded having to carry this thing but he went to pick it up anyways.

“Lixie, it’s ok I can take it-”

“Nah I got it”

“At least let me carry the bags-”

“Pfft, I got this Baby, I’m a man you know?” He flexed as if he were trying to make a point and you rolled your eyes and held your hands up in defeat. With a deep breath, he tried to lift the melon. He almost fell backwards with it in his arms, the weight being too much along with everything else.

Thankfully the old man was there, as he had to hurriedly take the large fruit from Felix before he could drop it. “Careful there, son. That took me months to grow.”

You giggled while Felix held in a pout at being scolded. “Aww Lix it’s ok, it’s just a melon I don’t need it.”

He scowled lightly, “Now hold on a minute Baby, you’re getting this melon if it’s the last thing I do!”

You did in fact get your melon… After the farmer man had to carry it to the car for you. Even though his ego was hurt Felix still thanked the man and handed him a twenty dollar bill for his trouble.

Now you were both in the car on the way back home. You couldn’t stop your little chuckles at how cute his red cheeks were. You reached up and pinched the heated skin.

“Baby stoooopppp it’s not funny!” He whined and smacked your hand away while keeping one hand on the wheel. “What kind of man can’t even carry a watermelon?!”

“Lix, anybody would have struggled with that thing. It doesn’t make you less of a man.”

He grumbled under his breath, “the farmer could lift it just fine..”

“Felix… are you jealous of the farmer?” You asked slowly, trying not to laugh again.

“He was like seventy years old and could pick it up no problem! And he had a sick ass beard!”

“You are so cute Lix oh my god.” This time there was no containing your cackling, you laughed so hard tears started to well in your eyes. Seeing you laughing next to him made Felix start to laugh too, now realizing how silly it is.

The car drove down the forest road to the house, then a few moments later pulled up and parked in front of the house. Seeing Chan's car gone from the driveway reminded you of the dread that loomed within you, your sweet scent slightly souring.

Felix turned off the car and turned to you with a crinkle in his brow. “What’s wrong baby?”

“Something feels wrong Lix. Something has felt wrong all day.” You wrung your hands together anxiously. You looked at the time on the dashboard, seeing it ‘11:50’. Chan might not be with the clients yet. “Do you think we can maybe send a text to Channie just to make sure he’s alright?”

The beta pulled out his phone, “absolutely.” He opens his phone and hands it to you. “Type whatever you want. We really should get you your own phone soon, it’s not practical in the long run that you don’t have one.”

You took his phone and typed out a quick message to your alpha, wishing him luck and telling him you loved and missed him. You sent it with bated breath and waited. After about thirty seconds the message said ‘read’ and you felt like you could breathe again. A response came in a moment after.

‘I miss you more baby. I’ll see you before you know it and you can tell me all about how much fun you had today. I love you, my gorgeous girl.’

“See? He’s alright.” Lix reassured and patted your knee. You nodded and handed your phone back to him. You felt better after seeing his reply but the dread didn’t dwindle by much. Felix patted your knee with a smile then opened his door and hopped out, running around to open yours but he wasn’t quick enough before you opened your door with a playful grin. “Baaabbyy I wanted to open it for you!” He whined with a huff.

“Oh I’m sorry, I apologize. You are a man after all.” You teased him then shut the door again. He laughed and opened your car door with a bow.

“After you mam.”

“Thank you, good sir.” You giggled and accepted his outstretched hand. When you were out you gave him a little peck on his lips. He shut your door then opened the back to grab the goods you acquired today- glaring daggers at the offending melon. You rolled your eyes, “ oh don’t be petty, it’s just a fruit Lix!”

“A fruit who disrespected me! And is about to do it again!” He protested, a frown now gracing his freckled face. “We both know I can’t carry that thing…So now I gotta do the most painful thing in the world.”

“Aww what’s that, babe?”

“I have to ask Changbin to help.”

That once again made you laugh, “His ego is going to be through the roof. I’ll ask him, Lix. He won’t make fun of you if you have your hands full. Or you could let me help yo-”

“Nope go ahead and get Bin.” He was already filling his arms with your bags and goods.

“Hmph. Fine.” You pouted and walked into the house, calling for the alpha. “Ohh Binnnniiiie” You sung aloud, then waited. A second later a rumbling pair of feet came scrambling into the room, almost slipping on the rug. You hid your smile with your hand as Changbin was now in front of you pretending to act cool as if he hadn’t almost fallen.

“Oh hey Baby. You called?” His ears were red and he leaned on the wall.

“Hi handsome, do you mind helping me out please? There's a heavy melon I can’t lift.” You clasped your hands out in front of you and smiled at him sweetly, making his heart beat wildly in his chest.

“Of course I’ll help you, but wasn’t Felix with you?” Bin asked.

“Right here.” Felix came in behind you with his arms full.

“Damn baby, how much did you get?” Changbin did a double take as the beta passed by him.

His comment made you feel sheepish, you bit your lip and slightly furrowed your brow. “Oh uh, ya know.. Just some stuff for the pack and the garden..”

“In her defense, she’s an omega who was let loose in a farmers market with almost unlimited funds.” Felix called from further within the house now.

“I’m kind of jealous you went without me.” The alpha admitted and followed you out to the car.

“You do have to share me sometimes, Binnie.” You sing songed your words, then yelped when you felt a swift smack to your butt. “Ouch!”

“Holy shit that thing is huge!” The back was still open in the car so he got a good look at the monstrosity.

“I know right?! I’ve never seen one so big!”

He snickered, “That’s what she said.”

You snorted and smacked his butt in return. “You're damn right!”

He balked at your response, face turning even redder and mumbling, “Who are you?”

“I’m what you boys have turned me into.” You grinned at him with a wink.

Changbin hauled the melon into his arms with ease, holding it with one arm and using the other hand to shut the door. You swooned at how easy it was for him, biting your lip at the flex of his muscles when he lifted the fruit. With his free hand he grabbed yours and led you back into the house. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Hmm,” You hummed, pursing your lips in thought. You knew you should distract yourself and usually that would be with chores but you had all been good about keeping up with them that there was no need. “I’m not sure. What about you, Binnie?”

“Whatever you're doing, I’m doin baby.” He brought the back of your hand up to his mouth and gave it a wet kiss.

His sweet answer made you let out a quiet purr. Your inner omega was over the moon to have happy Binnie back. The last few days had been a painful whirlwind of emotions for the both of you.

You thought back to the saplings you got from the market. “How does some gardening sound?”

“Only if we can have some lemonade while we do it!”

You giggled and nodded, “Of course, if we still have some. Ji has been drinking a lot of it lately.”

Going into the kitchen you saw Lix and Hyunjin, both going through the various things you brought home.

“Good haul, Baby!” Hyunjin said when he spotted you entering the space. Then his eyes widened at the sight of the watermelon. “Woah, that is freakin gigantic! You weren’t lying Lix.”

“Why would I lie about the literal bane of my existence?” The younger beta grumbled.

Hyunjin shrugged, “I don’t know, I thought you were exaggerating.” He came up to you and literally pushed Changbin away, then enveloped you in a hug. “Hi gorgeous! Did you have fun?”

“Mmhmm,” You leaned up and gave him a kiss. “A ton of fun. They had so much to look at! I saw some produce I had never even heard of before!”

Hyunjin went back to scavenging through the goods, “I want to go next time! It’s not fair that Felix had all the fun with you.” He pouted and glared at the other beta- who in protest stuck his tongue out childishly.

“You had fun with her the other day! We never spend time together anymore!”

“Well I’m not the one who misbehaves, so I think I’ve earned unlimited time.” Hyunjin snarked with a stomp.

“Children settle down!” Changbin pointed at each of them, trying to calm down the gradually heating argument. He could sense your ever growing perturbation as the betas argued and -especially after the other day- he didn’t want anything to stress you out. “Everyone needs to get better at sharing in this damn house.” He tried to harden his tone like an alphas, wanting to get his authority across.

Both betas scoffed at his attempt, Hyunjin giving him a dramatic side eye. “Since when do you go into high and mighty alpha mode?”

“Since your weird territorial squabbling is stressing out the love of our lives, you asshole.” Changbin gestured to you, who had been silently biting your lip.

Everyone's eyes softened, “Oh omega, we’re sorry, we weren’t trying to fight.” Lix said and wrapped you in a hug.

“Yeah we were only joking around, baby.” Hyunjin added, trying to diffuse the tension.

You nodded, “It’s alright, I know you boys like to bicker like old people.” ‘I just wish it wasn’t involving me.’

“Baby, I love you and all, but I think the one who acts like an old lady is you.” Hyunjin snickered and went to hug you again but you sidestepped him with a gasp.

“How dare you!?” You poked his chest in jest.

“What? Gardening, cooking and reading are your favorite activities! Those are hobbies for old ladies!”

You huffed and laid a smack to his chest, making him laugh. “You’re not supposed to be the mean one Jinnie!”

“M not mean I was just playin.” He protested with a whine and reached for you again but you held your hands out to stop him, laughing as he kept coming at you making kissy faces.

A loud ringing interrupted the moment and all of your attention was brought to the device on the counter. Felix's phone was going off and Chan's picture lit up the screen. You looked to Felix in anticipation and he offered you a smile and a nod. You didn’t hesitate to snatch the phone up and press the answer button, bringing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi beautiful. What are you up to?”

“Hi Channie. I’m in the kitchen with Lixie, Jinnie and Binnie. Is everything ok?”

You heard him sigh in frustration, “Yeah it’s alright. The buyer stood me up. I’ve been waiting here for over 20 minutes past the meet up time.”

Your heart broke for him. You knew how important this deal would have been for him and the company. “Oh alpha, I’m so sorry.” You could feel that lump of anxiety in your stomach growing once more.

“It’s ok baby, other buyers will come, it's not a big deal. Anyways, I wanted to let you know I’m going to head home now and I’ll see you soon.”

That perked you right up, a bright smile finding its way across your face, looking over to the boys who gave you thumbs up. “Ok, I’m excited to have you home. I love you.”

He chuckled, “I’m excited to be home. I love you more, baby. See you soon.” With that he hung up. You could feel your claiming bite tingle when he said he loved you, your fingers absentmindedly tracing over the marred flesh of your neck. You giddily handed the device back to Felix.

“He’s on his way home.” You beamed. You grabbed some of the saplings from the counter and grabbed Binnies hand. “Come on! I wanna surprise him with the new additions when he comes home!”

“Oh can I come?” Jinnie asked with pleading eyes.

“No!” You huffed, “You called my gardening an old person hobby, so no you may not!”

Felix and Changbin cackled while the other beta jutted his plump lip out in an angry pout.

Chan could feel his patience wearing thin. He had waited at the entrance to the large vacant commercial building for far longer than he would have liked, only for the clients - who demanded to meet today- to be a no show.

He looked at his emails once more just to be sure he hadn’t received anything from the client, then ran his hand through his hair.

“Fuck this. I could have spent the day with my mate, instead I got this bullshit..” He angrily murmured, then let out a deep breath to steel himself. With a stedier mind, he pressed on Felix's contact. It rang once, twice, three times then it was picked up.

“Hello?”

It was his omega who answered the phone. Even hearing her voice calmed him down immensely. “Hi beautiful. What are you up to?”

“Hi Channie. I’m in the kitchen with Lixie, Jinnie and Binnie. Is everything ok?”

He sighed and kicked the dirt below him, trying to contain his anger. “Yeah it’s alright. The buyer stood me up. I’ve been waiting here for over 20 minutes past the meet up time.”

“Oh alpha, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok baby, other buyers will come, it's not a big deal. Anyways, I wanted to let you know I’m going to head home now and I’ll see you soon.” He reassured you, knowing how you're probably feeling. ‘My girl is so empathetic.’ It’s one of the things he loves most about you.

“Ok, I’m excited to have you home. I love you.”

“I’m excited to be home. I love you more, baby. See you soon.” He hung up the phone and shoved it in his pocket. Chan was beyond ready to be home. His thoughts were consumed with you and how he wanted to hold you when he got back.

In fact, Chan was so distracted that he didn’t pick up on the scent that was drawing closer to him until it was only feet away. His whole body went rigid when he finally caught a whiff of something foul.

‘There's another alpha next to me.��

Chan was suddenly caught in a chokehold, a muscly arm coming around him and trying to take him to the ground. Chan was able to maneuver himself out of the hold with a hard twist of his body, his hands coming up to pry the offending arm from him. He spun around to face his assailant. It was an alpha he had never seen before, but something about him felt familiar in a way Chan couldn’t explain.

“What the fuck?! Who are you?!”

The man swung on Chan, a deafening growl escaping the other alpha when Chan was able to dodge. Though Chan was not able to dodge the swift kick that was delivered to his legs, sending him down on his back. When Chan was down in a more vulnerable position the other alpha smirked down at him.

“Don’t I smell familiar to you, Chan?” The way this man sneered his name made his blood boil. Chan was able to roll away from the next attack, his own legs kicking the knee of the offender and sending him down when he tried to stomp on Chan. “Fuck, I heard you were a strong son of a bitch. You must be, to have hurt my mate.”

Chan sprung to his feet and looked at the other man. It was then that he noticed the bite mark on his neck. The gears in his head finally started to click into place. “You’re Wooyoung's alpha, aren’t you? You’re San.”

“Don’t say his fucking name, you piece of shit!” San got back up as well, then lunged for Chan, getting a hit in on his face and sending him back a few feet. Chan could feel his nose start to drip just lightly and he was growing even more pissed off. “First you piss off my pack leader, then you piss off me. Things aren’t going to end well for you.”

‘His pack leader? Who the fuck is hi-’

Chan's thoughts were cut off when another hurdling fist came at him, but this time he was more prepared, his own fist smashing into San. His mind was racing. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on but he started to piece it together.

Wooyoung- a beta- tried to nab you. He was asked to leave town a mere day later and go to an abandoned building. Now an alpha; albeit not a very bright one, was attacking him and mentioning his pack leader. Chan's heart sank in his chest and his eyes widened. This wasn’t just about revenge for what he did to Wooyoung.

This was about his omega. About you.

And this man's pack leader was Hongjoong.

Chan could feel nothing but pure rage and fear as he realized what was happening. He needed to get home to you. Now.

Chan rolled up his sleeves and hardened his gaze. San wiped the blood from his lip and could feel the intensity coming from Chan, making him gulp but continuing his attack. He pulled out a pocket knife from his pants. “No one messes with my pack. Not even a notorious little bitch like you.” San jeered.

“Sorry, I don’t have time for this. My omega is waiting for me.” Chan caught the other alpha off guard when he swiftly grabbed Sans arm before he was able to strike, and literally tossed him to the ground. Chan stomped hard on Sans hand, crushing his fingers and making him release the knife with a pained howl. Chan could feel the crunch of bone beneath his nice prada shoes and he grinned down evilly.

“I’ll kill you!” San screamed and tried to fight him, but Chan hopped on top of him and started throwing his fists into the other alpha over and over again. Chan could feel the blood starting to coat his hands but he didn’t stop. He kept hitting him until his face was unrecognizable. At some point the man under him flailed his legs up in an attempt to knock Chan away but Chan just changed up his tactics, grabbing into the man's head and starting to bash the back of his head into the ground.

“You can’t kill me when you can’t even move.” All either of them saw was red.

Chan's heart was pounding so loudly in his ears. His whole body was splattered in blood, it coated his hands and dripped from his face. Some of it was his but most of it was Sans. The man laid still on the dirty ground, a pool of red surrounding him. Chan didn’t know or care if he was still breathing; and he wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

He sprinted towards his car, throwing the door open and hopping in. His hands were nearly shaking as he tried to start the ignition. Just then his phone began to ring. He hastily dug it from his pocket, surprised the screen wasn’t cracked at the least. A number he didn’t recognize was calling him. A sick feeling inside of him told him to answer.

“Hello?” He put it to his ear and started his car.

“I gotta tell you, Chris, you’re not as smart as people make you out to be.”

Chan gripped the steering wheel tightly. “What do you want, Hongjoong? Wasn’t sicking your little pet on me enough?”

The man on the line chuckled darkly and Chan knew there was a wicked smile on his stupid face.

“Oh I think you know what I want. You stole something from me and I want it back.”

Chan grit his teeth, understanding exactly what he was talking about. “I didn’t steal anything. She never belonged to you in the first place.”

“Liar! You’re a filthy fucking thief. You took what was rightfully mine. I paid good money for that omega. Though I can’t say I’m not disappointed that it turns out she’s a dirty whore since she spreads her legs for you so easily. Still, she belongs to me and I don’t take kindly to thieves.”

Chan let out the most menacing and guttural growl he had ever released in his life.”Don’t you ever fucking talk about her like that.”

Hongjoong chuckled again. That little laugh made Chan want to gouge his eyes out of his head. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Chris. I thought we could talk this out; alpha to alpha.”

“It seems we’re way past that, since you sent your bitch after me.”

“Did you kill him?”

That wasn’t the question Chan was expecting, it almost seemed like Hongjoong cared about his pack. “Why don’t you come over here and check for yourself?”

The man on the phone hummed with disdain. “Nah, I think I’ll go check in on my omega instead. She is wearing the most delectable little sundress today, isn’t she? Mmm, absolutely scrumptious.”

Chan sped faster down the interstate, feeling the rage intensify even more. “You listen to me you shit stain -”

“No, you listen to me! I don’t accept a slight against me! I’ve killed people for less. Trust me when I say that little whore isn’t gonna be worth it when I slit your throat. And every single one of your weak little pack mates. Too bad their big strong alpha left town and left them there. Sure would be a shame if something happened.”

With that the line went dead.

“FUCK. FUCK FUCK FUUUCKKKK” Chan slammed his hands against the sterling wheel as he screamed. He knew this was no time to panic and that he had to get home as quickly as possible and he had to warn the pack. He had no idea who was home right now, but he had to try. With shaky fingers he dialed the number.

“You’re delusional.”

“No! Everyone agrees Mark Ruffalo is the best ‘Hulk’!” You protested and threw a leaf at Changbin, who only cackled when it flew directly to the ground. You were sitting kneeling in the dirt, settling in the saplings while Changbin mostly kept you company and controlled the music. Right now ‘Genie in a bottle’ by Christina Agulara has just started playing.

“Uh uh, you and I both know it’s Edward Norton.”

You huffed, “And you call me delusional.”

He patted your head as if soothing a feral dog, making you swat his hands away with a scowl.”You’re so cute when you’re all fired up, baby. Makes me wanna take you against that glass again like last time.” He smirked and laughed when you swatted him again.

“Not right now, Binnie. I wanna get this done to show Channie when he gets home.” You had to pry off the alphas wandering fingers as they started to trail down your back. You crossed your arms when he began to kiss your neck.

Changbin sighed wistfully and laid one more peck to your skin before pulling away, “Alright alright Baby, you win. I’ll let you finish your little project.”

“Thank you Binnie.” You smiled and beckoned him down so you can give him a smooch.

He kissed you again then stood up, adjusting his pants. “I think I’m gonna run in and grab a snack, since I can’t eat the delicious one right in front of me.” He side eyed you with a playful grin. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Do you need anything from inside?”

You hummed in thought, “Maybe some more lemonade please?”

“You got it.” He gave you a thumbs up and headed inside.

Changbin made his way to the house. When he opened the back door and went inside he could tell something was up. The vibe inside felt off and he caught a whiff of something that he couldn’t place his finger on. He carefully walked towards the kitchen, still not seeing anyone but the scent was starting to get stronger. The alpha turned the corner to enter and was finally able to tell exactly where the scent was coming from.

Leaning against the fridge and eating an apple, was Wooyoung. Changbin froze at the sight of the beta. Changbin took notice of the state of the man. Wooyoung's nose was dark purple and he kept a bandage over it. He also had dark marks on his neck in the shape of fingertips.

Wooyoung breathed deeply then snapped his head to face Changbin with a grin. This wasn’t his normal smile though, this time Changbin could see the villainous intentions behind it.

“Hi Bin, I’ve been waiting for you.” He took another bite of the apple, the crunch making a shiver want to go down the alphas spine.

“Wooyoung,” Changbin took a careful step towards him, eyes never leaving the man. “What are you doing here?” He kept his words low and said them slowly, trying to control the situation.

The beta gave him a cheery shrug, obviously masking the pain the expression caused him due to his broken nose. “Thought I might come see my friend. Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“Wooyoung, what are you doing here?” Changbin had demanded, finding no amusement in the situation whatsoever.

This time Wooyoung's face changed and his smile dropped. “ Let’s have a chat, like old times.”

“We have nothing to talk about. I told you to leave me alone.”

The beta took another bite from the fruit, “Come on Changbin, just hear me out. I have a proposition for ya.” That evil gleam sparkled in his eyes and he didn’t give Changbin a chance to respond before launching into it. “I -we- want you to join us. Be a part of our pack. I’ve told my head alpha all about you and he thinks you’d be a great addition.”

“Your alpha?” Wooyoung nodded enthusiastically to his inquiry. “Who is your alpha?”

“Hongjoong of course!” Changbin froze. His whole body was alight with trepidation and his eyes were wide. “He’s a great leader, you'll like him I promise. He said that since you're so strong you would do good in a strong pack- the others are mostly alphas so you’ll fit right in. Oh oh and you know the best part?!” He took another bite. Changbin could hear the manic exaggeration in his voice as he spoke, the man seemed to be unraveling mentally the more he droned on. “Joong said if you join us you can still fuck the omega whenever you want!”

“No one is putting another finger on my girl.” The words came out before changbins brain could even catch up with all the things he had said, the only thing he registered was the mention of Baby. “You’re a fucking psycho if you think any of that is going to happen.”

Suddenly there was a loud scream from the floor above them, then a thundering pound as if something huge had fallen. Changbins eyes flickered to the ceiling then back to Wooyoung, who sighed in detest at the interruption. The beta glared at him and clicked his tongue. “Wrong answer.”

The apple was forcefully thrown directly at Changbins face, the alpha yelling in pain when it made contact with his eye, the sweet juices splattering all over him. He wasn’t expecting the attack so his instincts made his hands shoot up to defend himself instead. Bin blindly reached his out to grasp at whatever he could and ended up cutting off Wooyoung's next attack by grabbing his arm that was flying at him.

Wooyoung yelped when Changbin gripped his arm forcefully and yanked the beta to him. Changbin creaked his eyes open just in time to see another fist coming at him again, so he leaned forward quickly and managed to get a headbutt in on the beta man.

The offender howled in pain when the crown of Changbins head smashed into his nose- the already broken appendage immediately starting to flow heavily. Wooyoung started to sway backwards but before he did he grabbed onto the alphas hair and forced him down to the ground with him.

Another thudding crash was heard from upstairs then the sound of running feet spreading out around the second floor. All over the house a smell of blood spread around and it made Changbins own blood begin to boil. He needed to end this now.

The alpha man threw his whole weight down on top of Wooyoung, knocking the air out of the beta. Wooyoung wheezed and was caught off guard; that's the moment Changbin took to wrap his thick bicep and forearm around Wooyoung's neck. Changbin did not let up for even a second on the pressure even as Wooyoung struggled and punched at him as he fought for air.

“Just go to sleep!” He screamed at him and tightened the hold even more, efficiently choking the man below him. Soon enough his efforts paid off and Wooyoung's body fell limp in his hold. Changbin held position for another few seconds just to be sure it wasn’t a trick, then he rolled himself off of the beta with a groan. He could see that Wooyoung was not dead but he had passed out cold from the lack of oxygen.

Changbin breathed a brief sigh of relief as he scrambled to his feet and ran for the door. This was far from over.

Your back was turned to the door of the greenhouse and your hands were busy digging another small hole for a sapling. ‘Genie in a bottle’ was still blaring through the speaker and you were humming along with the words and lightly dancing in your seat.

An alpha presence was approaching from behind and you could hear the light steps as they neared. Changbin had only been gone for about a minute so you assumed it was him. Your lips curled in a teasing smile and you called over your shoulder, “Well that was quick, don’t tell me you forgot my-”

Your words were cut off as a hand embedded itself in your hair roughly and your head was forced back. Your hands shot to your head as you yelled from the shock and the pain. Your eyes were filled with tears as your face was yanked up and around to face the attacker.

A man you recognized from your google search those few weeks ago before your escape was staring back at you with an unholy wickedness you had never encountered before. You gasped when he laughed at your obvious fear- his canine teeth were sharp and menacing as he licked over them as if tasting your fright.

“Hello there, little omega.” You hated the way he said your presentation. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“H-hongjoong?” You whimpered as he craned your neck back further to look at him. You could feel the tension of his nails on your scalp as he yanked and it made you cry harder.

“Ah,” He grinned down at you, “So you do know who I am. Perfect, that saves us some time.” He started to drag you out of the greenhouse by your hair, making you scream as you tried to pull back but it was no use and you were forced to be dragged along with him as you scrambled on your hands and knees.

“How did you find me?” You cried, your legs scraping against the hard ground and creating bloody scratches along them.

He tsked, amused by your question. “That fucking thief wasn’t as careful as he thought he was. He forgot I have connections everywhere, including the police. The second you confirmed as not missing I knew exactly where you were. Though I will say it took a little longer than I had thought it would to track you down to a point. Wooyoung is usually very good with his nose.”

You felt your heart plummet in your chest and you couldn’t breathe. It all made sense now- the incident at the carnival was worse than you thought it was. He really did try to take you away. All for this alpha.

“What’s wrong?” He asked with faux kindness, cooing condescendingly. “Aren’t you happy to see your true alpha?”

“You are not my alpha!” You screamed, bringing your hands up to try to scratch at him. “Channie is!”

Hongjoong used the grip on your hair to toss you forward into the dirt, cutting up your skin even more and dirtying your dress. He still kept his brutal hold on your head as he dragged you. “ Show some respect. I paid good money for you, you dirty fucking whore. That sorry excuse for an alpha is going to pay with his life for trying to steal what’s mine. Just like your father did for letting you escape.”

Dad is…

Your cries turned to sobs as you took in the severity of his words. Your father was dead- murdered by this man. It couldn’t be true.. It can’t be.

“You’re lying!”

He snickered at your devastation, finding enjoyment in watching you sob in both kinds of agony. He had finally gotten you through the threshold of the greenhouse. “I’m many things, dollface, but I'm no liar.”

“What you’re going to be is dead if you don’t let her go right fucking now.”

Your eyes were filled with so many tears you didn’t see who said it but you didn’t need to. You had heard the menacing threat in his voice before and it made you feel better- that you weren’t alone completely- even if the comfort was miniscule.

Hongjoong scoffed from above you, “Big words for a pathetic little beta. You’ll get yours soon enough don’t you worry, so why don’t you scurry along, hm?”

Minho's dark eyes were locked on Hongjoong, his body rigid and his fingers twitching. He was trying not to show his fear. No, he wasn't scared of Hongjoong necessarily; he was scared for you. And he was more angry than he had ever been in his life.

The betas mind was racing and so was his heart as he tried to assess the best way to handle the situation. He had been at the garage a few yards from the main house when Chan called. After receiving the call from Chan he had wasted zero time in bolting for your location, seeking you out by scent when he heard your screams and cries.

“M-min..” You cried harder, trying to crawl to him but getting yanked back forcefully by Hongjoong.

“You’re not going anywhere, bitch.” The alpha growled.

“You have three seconds to let her go.” Minho snarled, his face scrunching up as he bared his teeth in an attempt to threaten the alpha. “One..”

“You can’t do shit to me, not when I have her in my hands.” Hongjoong sounded cocky as he shook your head.

“Two..”

Minho's eyes flicked to you then Hongjoong for a split second and that was enough for you to understand. Distract him. You balled your fists and started to swing at your captor with as most force as you could muster. You small fists hit at him and you yelled through your tears and your fear. You swiped at his skin with your nails and drew blood from the alpha, making him curse.

“Stop it you fucking bitch!” He delivered a hard kick directly to your ribs and it knocked the air from you. But you would take it gladly if it meant Minho could do what he has to do. And it seemed like your distraction worked.

While Hongjoong was momentarily distracted Minho was able to close the distance and he managed to strike Hongjoong right in his head. The alpha let go of your head in his surprise and Minho immediately reached for you and pulled you to him.

“Run!” He yelled at you, “Get as far away as you can! Go!”

Minho shoved you away from the scene just in time to dodge Hongjoong who had regained his composure enough to try and grab at you again. Minho tried to tackle the alpha but the man did not go down, instead he delivered a strike to Minho's stomach and tried to throw him to the ground but the beta held on and did not let him advance towards you.

You were frozen in fear; not knowing what to do or how to help. Your body hurt and your scalp burned and your mind was racing faster than it ever had before. Just when you thought your knees were about to give out, Minho met your eyes, his own pleading and begging. Begging for you to run away from Hongjoong. From him.

You blinked through your tears and gave a small nod, then you turned and ran. Or it was more like limping away, as you clutched your side where you had been kicked.

Minho would have breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you run if it weren’t for the threat he still faced. The beta felt a hard kick to his knee as the alpha tried to get him off of him. Minho held back his grunt of pain as his knee gave out and he lowered slightly.

Minho saw opportunity at his lowered position and rammed his head into Hongjoongs sternum, his arms wrapping around the man and he used his weight to push him to the ground.

Hongjoong yelled in fury and slammed both hands into the back of Minho's head as he went down, “You son of a bitch!”

Min saw a few black spots dot his vision and his head spun, but still he remained on task. He needed to eradicate the threat. Failure was not an option- no matter how badly it hurt.

He was growling and pounding his fists into Hongjoong but the alpha was inherently stronger than him so he only managed to land two or three hard slams before he was being flipped over and his back was crashing to the dirt below.

Minho instinctually put his arms up to cover his face as Hongjoong beat down on him. Hongjoong was using his alpha pheromones to try to intimidate the beta into submission- his musk reminiscent of burnt out matches and kerosine. The beta man held his breath and flipped his elbows up to make an attack with the points of his bone.

He managed to strike the meat of Hongjoongs side, hitting hard enough to draw a howl from the man above him. He went to hit higher when he thought the alpha was taken aback but the ever vigilant alpha intercepted it and managed to turn his head quick enough to grab a hold of Minho's arm with his teeth.

Minho screamed when he felt his flesh tear as he jerked his arm back. The bite was deep and immediately began to leak warm blood all over himself. Hongjoong took this moment to spring back up to his feet.

Hongjoong was breathing heavily as he spit out the skin and blood right at Minho who was still lying on the ground. His own face was bleeding and the crazed look in his eye would be enough to send a grown man to the grave. It sent a frightened shiver down Minho's spine as he clutched his gushing arm.

The beta managed to shuffle back a few feet; trying to put distance between himself and this villainous man. He left a trail of blood in the dirt as he scrambled back. He bared his teeth at Hongjoong and it made the alpha smirk- the blood all over his face covering his lips and making him seem even scarier. Minho knew something deranged was running through the alphas mind given by the psychotic glaze that overcame his eyes.

“As fun as that was, I think it’s time to end this little scuffle.” Hongjoong reached under his jacket and pulled out a black pistol, and aimed it right at Minho.

Minho kept his expression hard and his snarl steady, not giving anything away even though his life was flashing before his eyes. From what he knew and had seen of Hongjoong, he knew the crazed man would end his life with no hesitation.

“Big bad alpha needs a gun to fight his battles, huh?” Minho spat at him, “Only a pussy brings a gun to a fist fight.”

Hongjoong scoffed, then showed that bloody grin. “I don’t need a gun to kill you, but it does make it easier when I’m in a time crunch. Sorry I can’t stick around a little longer, Minho, but I have an omega to catch.”

The alpha cocked the gun and aimed it at Minho's head. Even in the face of imminent death Minho stayed as steady as ever. The only regret he has is that he didn’t get to spend more time with the woman he loves- that he was too stubborn in the beginning and had wasted precious time with you. He would never regret the decisions leading to this moment though. He would die for you over and over again if it meant you could get away from this monster.

Just as Minho had accepted his fate, suddenly there was a scream and a deafening ‘ding’ and Hongjoongs body was sent flying towards the ground. Standing behind the alpha -that now lay in the dirt clutching his head- was you. Was his baby. His love. And you were holding a large shovel that you had used to assault Hongjoong.

With another loud scream you lifted the head of the shovel above your head and brought it down on the alpha again, bashing him forcefully with the metal using all the might in your body. Your blood was pumping harder than it ever had in your whole life. The only thing in your mind was to defend Minho from this terrible man, whatever it takes.

You kept screaming as you clobbered him from above over and over and over again. Your whole body hurt and you could barely see through your tears but you didn’t let up. You didn’t stop even as blood began to pool in the dirt and Hongjoong was no longer moving.

In fact you didn’t stop until Minho had gotten up from the ground and limped over to you, his eyes wide from the shock.

“Baby..” He grabbed the shovel before you could bring it down for a final time and pulled it from your grasp, throwing your weapon to the ground. “He’s gone, you can stop now.”

Instantly you flung yourself into him, wailing loudly and trying to get as close to him as possible. “M-min.. Y-you.. I-i.. Oh my god.”

“M’ here, baby. You’re safe, it’s ok.” He tried to sooth you and keep you from seeing the body that lay in the dirt, curling you into him despite the pain in his still bleeding arm.

“D-did I.. Did I kill him?” You were both shaking from your question and Minho didn’t know how to respond right away. “Oh my god I did, didn’t I? He -he had that gun pointed at you and I just panicked. All I felt was terror and then… I killed him. Fuck I’m gonna be sick.” You started dry heaving but Minho shook you out of your panic.

“Omega, you did what your instincts told you to do. You saved me. Even after I told you to run as far away as you could, you came back. You saved me, Y/n.” Minho felt his own tears finally falling down his face, the shock wearing off as he took in the severity of what had transpired. “I was supposed to save you and it was you who came to my rescue.”

“I couldn’t leave you here alone with him! I could feel it in my gut he would have done terrible things to you, Min. I couldn’t leave you.” Even with the blood on his face he grabbed your head and kissed you harder than ever, pushing all of his gratification and love into it. You kissed back just as fiercely and melted into him.

“I love you.” He whispered when he pulled away, closing his eyes as he held you.

“I love you Min.” You whispered back.

A horrible reminder flitted into Minho's mind at that moment. If Hongjoong was here, then that means the rest of his evil packmates probably won’t be far behind.

The pack is in danger.

He pulled back and grabbed your hand, “I have to go, the other boys might be in trouble. I need you to hide in the greenhouse. Arm yourself and try to stay hidden.” You shook your head in protest, not wanting him to leave you, but he hardened his voice, “Y/n listen to me now. This is not the time to disobey me again. Thank you for saving me, but right now I have to go save them and I can’t do that if I’m worrying about you behind my back. Please, I’m begging you, go hide and don’t come out for anyone who is not a part of our pack.”

You trembled as he handed you the shovel, not wanting to but nodding anyway. “Be safe, please Minho.”

He nodded and sent you off into the greenhouse, then he turned and hightailed it to the house.

Changbin had made his way through the house when the smell of the blood got thicker, and as he passed by the bottom of the staircase he was startled as a large body came careening down the steps, landing with a pained grunt at the bottom and his arm bent at an unnatural angle.

Changbin yelled in fright at the sight of the unfamiliar alpha and without thinking delivered a hard kick into the man, who wheezed and rolled in pain. Changbin heard the scuffle of feet descend the stairs and was ready to fight again, but instead came face to face with Seungmin- who had his old baseball bat in his hand. Changbin could see the wood and Seungmin alike were splattered with blood.

Seungmin had a borderline sadistic snarl on his lips as he greeted Changbins bewildered look, with one of his own. “What the fuck is going on?”

Changbin smacked himself out of his shock, “I think we’re under attack by the Ateez pack.”

Seungmin growled, “No shit, this is the second alpha I had to beat around. Though this one got off easier. His giant friend upstairs didn’t make it this far away from me.”

“Two made it upstairs?” Changbin asked, peering around in panic.

“No,” Seungmin smirked with an evil glint in his eyes, “It was three. The third one got his throat ripped out by Innie.”

Changbin grimaced, “Fucking gross. Who screamed?”

“Jisung screamed when he saw Jeongin tear that fuckers neck apart with his teeth.”

“Understandable.”

“Yeah it was pretty metal. That kid is feral I swear. Though Ji is traumatized now.” Seungmin checked the man on the ground and saw he was passed out cold by now, and gave him another smack with the bat with a sneer.

The matter at hand suddenly came to both of them as they looked at each other. They had the same thought and both sprinted to leave the house to find you. Both boys raced outside to come upon a different scene.

They ran out the door just in time to see another unfamiliar man - a beta this time- take a flying kick straight to the face by none other than Felix, with an extremely frightened Hyunjin cowering behind him, holding out his car keys as if they were a weapon. Both boys winced at the force with which the beta man thudded head first onto the concrete of the driveway, instantly knocking him out.

Felix was out of breath and his hands were still up as he was ready to continue to defend his elder pack mate, but he was able to put them down when he saw that it was Seungmin and Changbin who had excited the house. “I-I don’t know what’s going on. We left to get more lemonade since Ji drank it all and we came back to this dude trying to attack us.”

“He’s a member of the Ateez, there's a few more of them in the house. How the hell did you manage to take him down?” Changbin asked, coming around to check for injuries on the two betas. Hyunjin clung to him as he shook, needing alpha comfort. The two remaining boys that were inside finally came out to join everyone else, Jeongins face and neck were covered in the red liquid. Jisung clung to him in fear as he trailed behind, big eyes wet with tears as they frantically searched the surroundings.

Felix furrowed his brow, “Did you forget I did Taekwondo for twelve years?”

Yes..Yes Changbin had forgotten. Before he could respond, they all heard another pounding of feet coming their way very quickly. They all readied themselves for another attack but instead of another enemy coming around it was Minho. He was breathing hard and his whole body was covered in blood.

He halted his running when he saw most of his packmates gathered together and none of them seemed injured much (besides the few hits Changbin had taken).

“Thank god.” He breathed in relief. Minho could feel his body begin to sag to the ground, the adrenaline wearing off knowing they were here and were ok.

Seungmin had sprung forward to catch the elder beta just before he hit the ground, “Woah buddy, I got you.” He lowered him as gently as he could. As much as he didn’t want to trigger Minho he knew he needed to ask the hard questions. “Who did this to you Minho? Where is Y/n?”

Minho tried to stand, staggering to his feet as Seungmin held him up. “Hongjoong.. The-the green house..”

Every single one of them stiffened at the mention of the dangerous alpha, but none of them could fly into action as the screeching of blaring sirens rang through the surrounding woods. Seconds later a barrage of cop cars and emergency vehicles flew onto the main property, followed by the familiar sight of Chan's car.

Everything would be ok now. Their alpha was home.

Chan got out of his car faster than lightning and he sprinted over to the pack. His eyes were wild and he was drenched in that all too familiar red. He scanned each one of his members and his gaze softened only slightly when he recognized that they were all alive. Then his eyes widened again when he didn’t see his mate amongst the crowd.

“Where is she?!” He demanded, trying to pick up her presence but only getting the stink of blood everywhere around him. Chan had called the police and explained the situation to them while he sped down the roads, making it home in record time, so the officers were already fanning out and looking for the offenders.

“The greenhouse.” Minho coughed, staggering that way. “She’s hiding in the greenhouse.” Chan wanted to help his pack mate but the urge to go to you and make sure you were safe weighed on him. Minho could see it in his eyes, “Chan.. You should know what sight you're about to walk in on..”

The sirens in the distance spooked you, making you flinch and screw your eyes shut. Theoretically you knew that sirens meant police- meant help- but the irrational part of you couldn’t help but be fearful. Fearful of what had transpired right outside this greenhouse, what you had done to that man.

You clutched your makeshift weapon tighter and you scooted back as far as you could under the table when you heard the thudding of footsteps drawing close to the greenhouse. The approaching person stopped outside where the body lay and you could hear the click of teeth. You held your breath and tried not to make a single sound as the person started walking slowly into the greenhouse.

“Baby?”

Your eyes flew open at the gentle sound of your alphas voice.

“Ch-channie?” You called out weakly, slowly peering your head out from your hiding spot. You looked out to see your alpha, blood all over him and the most solemn look on his face. You crawled out of your spot and bolted for him, throwing your whole body at him and letting out the most devastating cry he had ever heard. “Alpha! Alpha m’ so sorry. M’ so sorry. I killed him. I killed him.”

“My omega, you’re alright and that’s all that matters.” He buried his face into you and felt his own tears gather at the corner of his lash line. “My brave, strong girl. I got you, omega. Alphas got you.”

“He-he hurt Min, I didn’t know what else to do. He said he killed my dad.” You kept repeating it through your cries. Chan could feel all your terror and agony through his claim and it made his heart split in two. The murder of your father was news to him and he kept his surprise hidden for your sake. He knew it would take you a long, long time to recover from this event. With a lump in his throat he scooped you up into his arms from off the ground, tucking you securely into him.

He made sure to fold your head into his neck as he walked out of the greenhouse, making sure you didn’t see the body that remained on the ground- the police would come around soon enough and deal with the mess. Though he couldn’t help the vicious curl of his lips at the body of the alpha below. ‘That’s what you get for fucking with my pack.’ He thought cynically as he passed.

He carried you all the way to the front patio of the house where the rest of the pack was getting questioned and wounds treated. Jisung was the first to see you both coming up and burst into tears, leaping off his seat and straight for you, wrapping you and Chan in his hug.

“Baby, my baby.” He cried and he held you both. “I. was. So. scared.” He choked between sobs.

You didn’t say anything as you stuck out an arm to pull him closer while being held still, not having it in you to respond right now. At the mention of you, each of the boys who weren’t being treated gathered around and you all held each other in a big group hug. The only one who couldn’t be included was Minho, for he was being patched up by an EMT by the ambulance. He bit his lip as he watched his pack together again, all safe. It made the pain he experienced worth it.

Chan lifted his head to spot the beta that was further away, both of them locking eyes as Chan got a good look at just how messed up his second in command really was. Carefully Chan handed your trembling body off to the member closest to you, which happened to be Jisung. The beta took you delicately and the rest of them continued to hold you and shower you with whispers of their love.

Each one of them could feel your sorrow and guilt as it seeped out of you in waves. Minho did his best to explain all that had transpired so they knew what you had gone through. They knew what you needed now was just for them to hold you and love you. And the hug pile allowed them to shield you from the various stretchers and body bags that were being taken from within the house.

Chan walked over to Minho and eyed the large bandage that was being wrapped around his arm. He rested his hand on the betas shoulder, and crouched down to his level. He waited there for a moment while the EMT finished their work and gave Minho care instructions. The second the EMT walked away he grabbed the beta is an encompassing hug.

Minho had seldom seen the alpha cry, but now as he held him he felt the drops of warm liquid fall into his shoulder and felt the shaking of the elders body.

“Thank you, Minho. Thank you for keeping her safe.” Min clutched harder onto his pack leader and he himself began to wail at the sentiment.

“When you called.. I ran faster than I ever had in my life.. And when I saw the hold he had on her and how she was crying…” They both growled at the thought of that fuckers dirty hands on you. “I didn’t know what to do..”

Chan nodded and wiped the tears from his own face, “ Our omega got away from him because of you. I couldn’t have chosen a better second to run my pack.” The sheriff was sauntering up the pair with an exasperated look on his face.

“Chan, the three of us need to have a conversation about what happened here today.”

You winced as the medical professional dabbed at your wounds with alcohol and disinfectant. The elder beta woman gave you looks of sympathy after each one, muttering apologies yet continuing to treat you. Hyunjin and Jisung hadn’t left your side once, they stood behind and beside you as both of them scoured the area as if expecting more impending threats. Each of the other boys were giving statements since they were the ones to directly defend themselves and the pack.

“You’re doing so well, baby. We are so so proud of you.” Hyunjin praised you with kisses to your head from behind.

Jisung nodded, “Yeah, you are the most badass woman alive. I can’t believe I get to call you ours.” He rubbed his thumb comfortingly along your knuckles.

You felt so numb you barely registered what they were saying to you, only nodding to their words and leaning further into their touch. By now you were littered with bandages to cover your knicks and scratches. Soon enough the woman bid you farewell- the boys thanked her vehemently for helping you- and you were left with just the guys.

One by one each of the pack joined you back on the porch and you all watched as the officers and emergency vehicles cleared off the property. The only remaining one was the sheriff who was still a few yards away talking with the top two in command.

You could see the sheriff clap both boys on the back before they all walked back up to where you sat. The sheriff leaned down and took his hat off as he addressed you. “I want to offer my apologies and my condolences about what has transpired. Not just here today but with your family as well.”

The tears threatened to return when what he said registered for you. “You mean.. My dad is..”

He nodded heavily, “I am so sorry, Ms.L/n. I had heard about it only this morning and didn’t get a chance to contact Chan about it.” Felix was the one to grab onto you as the sobs returned. The sheriff grimaced and hung his head, “Any information I have about it will be sent over to you pronto.” He addressed Chan.

“Thank you, we appreciate it.” The old man nodded and bid you all farewell.

For what felt like hours you all sat there together and comforted each other. Most of you were still doused in the offensive red liquid that has since dried on your skin but all that mattered is that even though you were dirty and traumatized you were there together. Your new family was together and whole and nothing- not even a psychotic alpha on a power trip- could break your new found family apart.

You awoke with gasps for air and your body covered in sweat. You leaned forward and put your head in your hands, rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to rid your mind of the spine chilling images. Another night, another nightmare. It had been three weeks since the ‘incident’. Three weeks since you murdered- no not murdered- defended Minho against Hongjoong, and every night since then you have awoken from the terrifying dreams that plagued you at night.

Chan felt you move and he stirred awake from beside you, yawning as he sat up and put his arm around you. “Bad dreams again?” He asked, his voice laced with sleep.

You nodded, and removed your hands from your face and grabbed his hand. “I can’t unsee it, Channie. No matter how hard I try I can’t get the image of Hongjoongs dead body out of my mind. And whenever I manage to let it go for a moment and go to sleep again it’s the same thing but then it’s my dads body. It’s never ending.”

He sighed wistfully and kissed your head. He knew you needed sleep since you hadn’t gotten much lately and he could tell it was weighing down on you. So after searching his brain for a solution he came up with something that he thought would help you, at least for tonight.

“I’ll be back in a second, baby. Go ahead and lay down.” You nodded again and laid back down in your spot. Chan got out of bed and quietly shuffled out of the room. After about five minutes he came back into the room, this time with another person trailing behind him. You squinted through the darkness to see who it was. “Min? What’re you doin?”

Chan got back into his spot and Minho came around to your side and motioned for you to scoot over. “I’m coming to cuddle, what does it look like?”

Ever since you and Minho had gone through that traumatic event together you had been finding comfort with him more often than you used to. It felt like now you were both more kindred spirits. Chan knew that having Min around would help you relax a little more. Tonight specifically you needed to rest; your fathers wake was tomorrow evening and you had to be up early so you could travel down to your hometown. Of course Chan would be accompanying you, along with Felix.

A few days after the ‘incident’ Chan had reached out to your family on your behalf. Your mother sobbed when he told her you were alright and not with Hongjoong. It turns out your brother was taking over as head alpha of your old pack and he planned on changing a lot of things; starting with apologizing to you for your fathers attitude towards omegas and for not intervening when you had to be sheltered away.

Your brother had invited you to your fathers memorial service and though you were apprehensive to accept the invitation Chan thought it would be good for you to reconnect with your family since he knew you had missed them so much.

You scooted over and allowed the beta to slide into bed beside you. He got in and instantly you felt more relaxed at having him here. It wasn’t that you necessarily loved Minho more than the other boys, it was more like since he almost died at the hands of a psycho you needed to have him in sight so your omega brain knew he was safe- was alive.

“Better?” The alpha asked once he was settled. You nodded and were overcome with a yawn. He chuckled and wrapped around you from the other side, sandwiching you between the two men.

“I love you, Channie. I love you Min.” You mumbled before sleep found you again, this time with no nightmares.

Welp... this is it, the end of the series. BUT this is not the full end of the story! I will be taking questions and doing little drabbles about my darling pack so please send your thoughts and questions 💕

Thank you to every single person who has read or interacted with my story i appreciate and love every one of you 🥰

Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3

©doitforbangchan 2024

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fangirl-dot-com · 10 months ago

Text

Chapter 20 - Backstreet's Back - All Right!

Why this sat in the drafts for so long, I do not know so I apologize to everyone! I've been super busy with college and haven't had time to write much...but here we are

Today was an ABSOLUTE fever dream and we all need a little somethin somethin. So I present to you - the backstreet boys (formula 1 edition)

RACES SKIPPED ARE CANADA AND SPAIN (side note - Arthur hasn't been able to be at a race since Monaco)

Haven't been able to say this in a while but I hope you enjoy! Remember that comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated!! Love you all :D

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

You had gotten to the paddock super early once again. But that was only because Lando and Oscar has asked you to hang out, and you’d never skip out on some good times with your papaya friends. Andrea loved you and often let you sit in his office if you were bored. Actually, all of the team principals seemed to do that.

Even Toto, which was weird considering you stole on of his driver’s car with his other driver.

Like always, you found yourself killing some time by playing Subway Surfers. You were about to get a new high score when two shadows covered your screen, making your character get arrested.

“Hey, you made me lose my score!”

You were about to tear them a new one, but your face had a shocked look once you finally pointed your head up.

“What the f-!”

“Has anyone seen the kid?” was a question that Max did not imagine that he’d hear first thing in the morning when he arrived on Sunday.

His eyes glanced to the corner that you were almost always in, listening to music. But, the corner was void of any rookie teammate. He looked toward Christian, who asked the initial question.

“Have you checked her driver’s room?”

The Brit sighed, “We checked her room, your room, hospitality, and even the Ferrari garage, Williams garage, and McLaren garage. No one has seen her, yet the log says that she’s already here because she tapped in at the entrance.”

Well, Max was stumped. And he knew why Christian was wanting to see you. They were finally in the Red Bull Ring, the home race for the entire team. It was a big deal, and Christian didn’t want you to get overwhelmed. There was a lot on their shoulders. Charles had pole, but Max was right behind him. Charles was always strong in the Red Bull Ring, almost winning in 2019 and then winning in 2022. The Ferraris had done well the last two races, and you two needed to hold them off. Thankfully, you were right behind Max in P3, but Carlos was behind you in P4. A Ferrari sandwich if you will.

Everyone was kind of counting on the both of you for a Red Bull 1-2.

“Have you seen Vito or Mitch?”

“We’re right here.”

The Dutchman turned around to see your race engineer and manager, but you were nowhere to be found. He opened his mouth to say something but Vito held out a hand.

“Yes, we’ve already tried to call her and Arthur. Both phones went to voicemail.”

“Oh god.” Max shivered. If you weren’t picking up, and your boyfriend wasn’t picking up. Well, he didn’t want to imagine what you were up to. Just as he was about to suggest looking in the garages again, Lando popped his head in.

“Have any of you seen Bug? She was supposed to meet up with me and Oscar earlier and she never showed up!” the curly-haired Brit whined.

Now, that had Max even more worried. You never skipped hanging out with your favorite Brit (after Christian) or Aussie. Before he was about to start getting a search party together, Mitch suddenly made a weird face.

“Do any of you hear that?”

The five went silent to try to hear whatever Mitch had heard.

Lando’s face scrunched. “Sounds like the Backstreet Boys?”

The group quickly walked over to the opening and didn’t know whether to be relived or just upright confused.

Because there you were, holding a giant boombox (God only knows where you got that) with sunglasses on, with Arthur to your right and one Ollie Bearman to your left. The soundtrack was indeed Backstreet Boys, namely the 1997 hit song “Everybody.”

As Max learned at Vegas, you definitely knew how to make an entrance. By now, most of the drivers had walked out of their garages to see the commotion.

And much to Max’s surprise, Nico Rosberg, Mark Webber, and Jensen Button walked up to the three of you, giant smiles on their faces. The song had ended a bit ago, and you handed the now silent boombox back to the German. The Australian of the group gave both Ollie and Arthur pretty big hugs.

“Well, Oscar lost his grid dad,” Lando said, earning a hit from said Aussie.

“Hey! He was never my grid dad in the first place.”

The now group of six made their way to the giant group of drivers, including but not limited to: Max, Lando, Charles, Carlos, Logan, Lewis, George, and Oscar (in no particular order). Arthur’s hand was behind your back as you enthusiastically talked to the very tall British brunet dressed in Ferrari red.

“I cannot believe that you come here, apparently to see me, and say that you need to be in the Ferrari garage! Arthur’s even going to be in the Red Bull one!” they heard you whine as the group got closer.

Ollie rolled his eyes. “That’s only because he’s your boy-oof. You did NOT have to hit me.” He glared down at you as he rubbed his side.

“Yes I did.” Your arms crossed as you finally stopped in front of the giant group, who were all staring at you. “Hey guys, what’s up?”

Lando mirrored your stance, even popping his hip out. “What’s up?” he jokingly mocking. “We were supposed to go to breakfast?” He pointed between him and Oscar.

A look of realization glossed over your face as you looked at the papaya drivers.

“Oooohhhh, yeah. Sorry. Uh, their fault?” You pointed at Ollie and Arthur, who both looked betrayed.

“Our fault?” Ollie squawked. “You were the one who dragged us to breakfast!”

“You had breakfast?”

“Yes Lando, I had breakfast.”

The younger Monegasque silenced you. “The big boys are talking. And then you dragged us to find Nico because you thought he had a boombox.”

“The big boys? Seriously Thur? I can take you any day.” You glared up at him.

“Oh yeah?” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked down at you, getting in your face to really show the height difference.

That’s it.

You suddenly jumped on him, bring him to the floor. The Max and Charles jumped into action, trying to get you separated. Ollie just watched with a giant grin on his face, laughing at the two of you.

“Ollie, kindly shut up?”

“Yes mom.”

The two of you were separated quickly, because you really didn’t have much malice toward your boyfriend.

“I totally won.”

“Kid, you lost horribly.”

“Max, has anyone ever told you that you don’t have to say everything that comes to your mind?”

Charles, Lewis, Lando, Oscar, Logan, and George all nodded in agreement while Max stared at them with wide eyes.

“You all agree?!”

“Can I have my drivers back please?!” Christian suddenly yelled, making everyone look at him.

“Please take her. She’s rabid.” Arthur pushed you forward, making you take a swing at him (that he was ready for and dodged rather easily).

You stuck your tongue out at him, before giving Ollie a hug and gently guiding him to Charles.

Your finger pointed at the red-clad driver. “Take care of my son please, even if you are the enemy. He likes his sandwiches without the crust and needs a nap with his blanket in 5 hours.”

“Gosse?”

“Aw you brought my blanket?”

Ollie’s face flushed red as he realized everyone’s eyes were on him. Charles just looked worried as though someone just handed him an actual child and told him “good luck.”

You turned to follow your team principal, who was muttering something about you giving him even more gray hairs every weekend. “By Ollie! Have fun!”

The parade went by smoothly. You laughed a lot when Nico brought the boombox to the interviews. He had a lot of questions for you and Max, since it was the team race today, which made your anxiety skyrocket just a bit.

You and Arthur were able to have just a few minutes of alone time back in your driver’s room.

Because this was a surprise race, Arthur didn’t have to work or be with his brother. So, he was all yours for the entirety of Sunday. However, your excitement didn’t last long as he told you that he had to go back to Switzerland for more testing right after.

You sighed as you pressed your head against his chest, his arms around you. “If I had known that you’d be gone so much, I wouldn’t have called Seb and just have kept you as my WAG.”

Arthur sadly smiled down at you. “I know chéri, but I like testing. It gives me a purpose.”

Another sigh escaped your lips as you finally met his gaze. He cooed as he saw tears forming in your eyes.

“What is wrong mon fille jolie?”

You let a few tears escape, but they didn’t get very far as Arthur wiped them off as quickly as they fell.

“I just miss you and I miss home,” you confessed, hiding your face in his neck as you stepped closer. Arthur gently brought you over to the couch and readjusted you so that you were just lying on his front.

His hands gently ran through your hair. He knew you needed to be in the car soon, but he wouldn’t let you go without trying to console you.

You continued, “And I know that we just had summer break not too long ago, but it wasn’t enough.”

Arthur just listened, know you needed to spill to feel better.

“Everyone is counting on me to bring in a 1-2 since it’s the home race. But the last two races weren’t the best. I barely got any points.” You muttered the last part, “I’m never going to win a race by now.”

“Hey, none of that.” Arthur lifted your face so that you could look in his eyes. His were filled with determination. “Do you know how amazing you are? You podiumed at your first race and are fourth in the championship. As a rookie! You are incredible. Parfois j’aimerais que tu te voies comme je te vois.” (translation: Sometimes I wish you saw yourself as I see you.)

You huffed. “I still can’t understand you, but I’m hoping that was a compliment.”

“It was.”

He moved his head down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. At the contact, a sigh expelled from your nose.

It felt so good to be so loved.

If someone was to write a poem, about how Arthur looked at you and how you looked at Arthur, their pens would be void of ink and the stars would be shadowed by their words.

The two of you were so lost in each other that a knock at the door scared you both and ended up with you on the floor.

Mitch poked her head in before shaking it slightly.

“I don’t even want to know what you were up to, but Y/n needs to get in the car.”

You quickly stood, with Arthur’s help, and grabbed your helmet, making your way back into the garage. Like clockwork, the Monegasque took your headpiece and gently made sure that it was safely secure. And, with a kiss on the “forehead,” he sent you off. He could tell that you didn’t really want to get in the car. Which was understandable. It wasn’t very often that Arthur saw you not want to drive. But he knew that you were going to be amazing today.

Starting Grid:

Charles Leclerc

Max Verstappen

Y/n L/n

Carlos Sainz

Oscar Piastri

Pierre Gasly

Daniel Ricciardo

Lewis Hamilton

Yuki Tsunoda

Alex Albon

Lando Norris

Logan Sargeant

Valtteri Bottas

Fernando Alonso

George Russell

Lance Stroll

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Esteban Ocon

Nico Hulkenberg

You rolled your tires as you waited for the lights to go out. They were tense, but that helped you be ready to press the accelerator. If you weren’t tense, you knew there’d be something wrong. If you felt high-strung outside of the car, inside was 10 times worse.

All the pressure, all the doubts, all the hopes and dreams – were on your shoulders.

And you weren’t going to let them down.

“And it’s lights out and away we go for the 2024 Austrian Grand Prix! Charles Leclerc has a strong start in the initial few seconds, but Max Verstappen seems to be on a mission to turn this into a win. Verstappen gets down the inside and pushes Leclerc a bit wide to gain a position on the pole sitter. We both know that he will probably start to bolt in just a few corners.

“His rookie teammate Y/n L/n seems to also have the upper hand against the other Ferrari of Carlos Sainz as she seems to do what she does best – go around the outside on that initial turn 1 and somehow make it out in front.

“Now the track is a bit rainy, and we saw what happened the last time that happened, so we’ll keep an eye on our Red Bull number 2.”

You felt water droplets fall into your visor as you were picking up speed on the Ferrari in front of you. You knew that this “dirty air” would be much worse than regular, since it was contaminated with water as well.

You pressed your radio button when it seemed almost impossible to catch up to the red car. The rain had also stopped so your intermediates were getting dangerous to drive with.

“Mitch what is the plan because I cannot catch up to Leclerc in these conditions.”

“Do you think you can go the rest of the way in mediums?”

You thought for a moment. You couldn’t go the rest of the way on softs, as they would degrade too quickly. And hards took forever to warm up.

“Yeah. I can do that.”

“Then box ahead of Max. You’ll come out right behind him. So, he’ll give you a tow and then when he boxes, you’ll do the same. Max has priority.”

“Copy.”

You quickly pitted the next lap. The Red Bull team seemed to be on fire as you were in and out in a few seconds. You didn’t know, but they somehow set the record for a new pit stop – 1.789 seconds.

The crowd got excited as you suddenly appeared behind Max and in front of the number sixteen car.

With Max in front of you, the tow was very helpful as you started to build bigger gap. You guessed that Ferrari must have messed up Charles’s pit stop as Lando’s papaya car was now behind you, instead of Charles.

You felt bad, but that’s on his team.

However, Lando was on much fresher tyres that you were, and he was gaining in the last ten laps of the race. You really tried to not let him overtake, but he did…with five laps to go.

Mitch suddenly came over the radio. “Don’t push it like last time. We don’t need another Suzuka. Third place will be just fine.”

But you weren’t having any of that. You never responded and just kept at the pace you were going, trying to get the maximum out of the car.

You hadn’t noticed, but everyone else in the garages could see that you were surprisingly gaining on Lando. Ollie watched as you were making qualifying times per lap. The crew was holding on to each other, cheering you on. With each tenth gained, the noise grew louder.

You saw the last lap flag, and you knew you had to keep your elbows out.

“And we are coming up on the last lap and L/n has somehow made it back into Norris’s DRS. She tried to get around the outside on the first turn, but is not successful. Yet, she’s keeping herself well in the DRS and doesn’t make try to make a move on the straights.

“Here comes the last real corner of the circuit and only a small straight for an overtake.

“SHE’S GOING FOR IT!

“IT’S A PHOTO FINISH…DO WE HAVE RESULTS?”

You slowed down your car as you drove around for the cool down lap. Your finger was jamming the radio button.

“Do we have it!?”

Arthur was biting his fingernails as everyone in the garage was waiting for the results. The mechanics were happy with another P1 finish from Max, but they were on baited breath to see if you had almost done the impossible and finished in a 1-2 sequence. A steward walked over to the pit wall and gave Christian the paper with the results.

A giant smile crossed his face as he was the one to give you the news.

“Congrats kid. It’s a 1-2 finish.”

Race Results

Max Verstappen – 25 points

Y/n L/n – 18 points

Lando Norris – 15 points

Charles Leclerc – 12 points

Carlos Sainz – 11 points

Pierre Gasly + fastest lap – 9 points

Oscar Piastri – 6 points

Lewis Hamilton – 4 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 2 points

Alex Albon – 1 point

Logan Sargeant

George Russell

Lance Stroll

Fernando Alonso

Nico Hulkenberg

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Daniel Ricciardo

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen – 244 points

Charles Leclerc – 201 points

Y/n L/n – 124 points

Lando Norris – 115 points

Carlos Sainz – 91 points

Lewis Hamilton – 70 points

Oscar Piastri – 68 points

Alex Albon – 39 points

George Russell – 36 points

Fernando Alonso – 35 points

Logan Sargeant – 29 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points

Lance Stroll – 15 points

Pierre Gasly – 12 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Valtteri Bottas

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 383 points

Ferrari – 292 points

McLaren – 194 points

Mercedes – 106 points

Aston Martin – 50 points

Williams – 41 points

Alpha Tauri – 31 points

Alpine – 12 points

Alpha Romeo

Haas

“OH YEAH BABY. LET’S GO!” you yelled over your radio. The crew in the garage stood up from their seats and began to hug each other.

“Oh man, that was, wow! Can’t believe that. Great job everyone. Is this what winning feels like?” you asked as you took the cooldown lap, yet there was no answer. Everyone was too busy watching that final overtake and celebrating about it.

Arthur just watched your car take a lap on the screen. He softly whispered, “I knew you could do it.” The love in his eyes could have poured out if love was a physical thing.

Mitch came over the radio as you were beginning to pull in. “And congrats kid. You have surpassed Lewis Hamilton’s rookie point record.”

“LET’S GO! THAT'S THE SHIT!”

“You really need to stop hanging out with Max all the time. He’s teaching you bad words.”

You smirked under your helmet. “I’m a girl whose friends are dominantly male. Mitch you even curse over the radio.”

Max almost didn’t want to look at whatever car was in the second place spot. He knew you’d be devastated if you weren’t there. Last he knew, Lando was behind him with you on his tail. It was your helmet that caught his attention. His body turned to see you standing on your car in the P2 spot.

His heart dropped, but in a good way. He watched you jump off and jump into the arms of the crew. Head pats were definitely deserved as you tried to touch as much of the team as possible. He laughed when you purposefully hung off the banner, just to get closer to the crew who were a bit further back.

He watched you and Mitch hold out your arms (kind of like Lando and Carlos at the Singapore Grand Prix), mirror each other, and then hug it out. He swears he saw the older lady wipe away a few tears.

Next was Christian, who gave you a big hug as Max finally made his way to the wall of crew. It was his turn for hugs, high-fives, and helmet pats.

You had just gotten to Arthur, who held onto you a bit longer than everyone else.

Just for the two of you, he whispered, “If you didn’t have you helmet on, I’d kiss you right here in front of all these people.”

Your cheeks were bright red under the helmet.

Ollie, who had been able to escape from the prancing horse, had also come to congratulate you. His hug was a tag shorter than Arthur’s, but you knew he did it to make your previous hug not look as suspicious.

You had been on the podium time and time before, but this felt different. You don’t know if it was the adrenaline, the sun, or the happiness that ran through you veins that made the trophy a bit lighter or the bubbly a bit sweeter: maybe it was all three.

You were still hungry for a win, starving, but this was just the snack to tide you over.

Down below, Arthur and Ollie had somehow gotten a hand on the boombox once again. You could barely hear it on the podium, but you had a guess. Suddenly, the music screeched to a halt, making everyone confused. You watched as your two boys had a knowing smirk on their faces. The same smirk slowly crept on your face as well.

You turned to Max and Lando, who looked equally confused. You held your trophy to your lips, as though it were a microphone. You pointed at the two men, and lip-synced the words.

“BACKSTREET’S BACK - ALL RIGHT!”

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing 1-2 in the house! The Red Bull Ring was shining as our drivers carried home two new trophies! Congrats to y/n.89 for her first record as she surpasses Lewis Hamilton's rookie points with 124 points total!

liked by y/n.89, maxverstappen, lewishamilton, and 4,203,893 others

y/n.nation THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT

y/n_on_top that fight for the win will go in the history books mark my words

landonorris please tell your drivers to slow down so the rest of us can have a chance

charles_leclerc I second this y/n.89 idk, you all just sound like misogynists here... maxverstappen1 what she said

lewishamilton I knew someone would have to beat it. congrats kid

y/n.89 thank you Lew! (someone should take notes ahem landonorris) landonorris sure bug, sure

redbullfan 1-2! 1-2! 1-2!

y/n.lover she is legit currently in p3 for the constructor's championship...what do they feed her?

y/n.89 the tears of my enemies (Charles cries a lot) charles_leclerc HEY redbullracing lots of energy drinks and protein!

arthurxy/n Arthur back in the rb garage - too bad ollie couldn't join them

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 my boys are BACK

liked by y/n.nation, boxbox_express, change_ur_f-car, and 85,395 others

y/n&co God I've seen what you've done for others

rookiefan I kinda feel bad for her boyfriend...but at the same time Arthur is more than happy to show her off (her bf needs to take notes!!)

olliebearman MOM ON PODIUM

y/n.89 did you have a nice nap? olliebearman yes until charles_leclerc forgot my blanket y/n.89 when I find you charles_leclerc arthur_leclerc Charles you better run charles_leclerc HE'S 18?? WHY DOES HE STILL NEED A BLANKET AND NAP y/n.89 you're 26???? why do you still need to call my teammate goodnight? lestappenlove and I OOP

prema_y/n anywayyyyy the second pic is hilarious

Arthur.nation thur is glowing, wonder if he has a gf??

arthurgirly4life I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE

boxbox_express the trio no one knew we needed, but the trio that we deserve

arthur_leclerc has posted

arthur_leclerc a driver, a reserve driver, and an endurance driver walk into a bar...

liked by thurthur, ferrari_fanfest, porsche, and 102,284 others

arthur4porsche this makes no sense but it's hysterical??

y/n.89 ollie actually smacked his head on the bar

olliebearman YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T TELL - DAD, MOM IS MAKING FUN OF ME AGAIN arthur_leclerc it was funny? olliebearman grandpa? charles_leclerc yes? olliebearman not you, you forgot my blanket. the better one maxverstappen1 take that Charles

arthur&crew if max and Charles are grandpa...does that make Christian great-grandpa??

christianhorner sadly yes y/n.89 SADLY?? YOU MADE HIM CRYYYY charles_leclerc w o w , could never at Ferrari y/n.89 Charlie, you cried yesterday

redbullracing maybe the driver should become our photographer?

olliebearman has posted

olliebearman why is it that when we're together, we're always eating??

liked by ferrari, y/n.89, logansargeant, and 83,294 others

olliebear WHAT ARE THESE PICTURES I'M DYING

arthur_leclerc blocked and reported for that last picture

olliebearman why? trying to look good for someone?? arthur_leclerc say goodbye to the blanket olliebearman too late, your brother lost it :( arthur.nation HELLO??

y/n.89 I look sexy

olliebearman your boyfriend sure thinks so :D y/n.89 what Arthur said, blocked and reported

prematrio what are these comments??

y/n&co shhhhh just let them

oscarpiastri guess the invites got lost in the mail??

landonorris same here... y/n.89 you weren't in prema? kimi.antonelli thanks for the food mom! olliebearman brother? maxverstappen1 here we go again

change_ur_f-car what a time to be alive

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mermaidgirl30 · 3 days ago

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✨Saving What Was Lost Part 3: You Trust Me?✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I’m so excited to bring you the next chapter! This has been one of my favorite series to write, and I have so much more in store for these two! Joel is so so soft for reader 🥹 Happy reading! I love nothing more than to read your comments on what you thought, so please consider leaving me comments and reblogs 💕

Chapter Summary: You’ve got so many reasons not to trust another man again in your life, but Joel seems to give you ten for why you should trust him. One of them being calming a panic attack in the middle of a parking lot.

Rating: Explicit 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 9.7k

Chapter Tags: Mentions of being trafficked, flashbacks of being abused, angst, soft and protective Joel, PTSD, no use y/n, age gap (reader is late 20’s, Joel is late 40’s), pre-outbreak au, mentions of an acoustic guitar, panic attacks at the store

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The long days seem to dwindle by with your heart still lodged deep in your throat. It doesn’t seem to matter that the calming rain patters on your foggy window, doesn’t matter that fall used to be your favorite season. You feel hollow, torn apart piece by piece with every second that brushes past your icy skin.

You feel broken. You are broken. And you’re not sure anything will ever fix that.

Every day you find something new that’s too hard to manage to get your body to do. Brushing your teeth, getting yourself dressed, making yourself eat when all you can stomach is the empty feeling inside you. You’re just so tired of fighting, so very exhausted of trying to just get by. But your body screams at you to fight.

Fight for yourself. Win. Get out of bed, eat, make an effort to survive. So, you do. You try because that’s all you hear ringing in the back of your mind. You have to keep going. Don’t let Angela or any of the ones that dragged you down keep you from thriving.

Live.

Today is like all the other days you fight to not let your depression win. Except today marks two weeks that you’ve been here. Two weeks that you’ve survived. And as much as you feel like giving up every second of every day, you always seem to find one tiny reason to get out of bed. Joel seems to be that reason.

Joel… and his warm cups of coffee. The kind that he douses in creamer and sugar and caramel just for you. Because that’s how you like it. And it never fails. Every single morning your cup is there just waiting for you, including Joel’s warm smile and soft brown eyes…

That’s your reason for getting out of bed. Joel.

You discovered that Joel reported you as found to the police department a few days ago. You should feel relieved that he did that, but it didn’t matter. There was no one looking for you, so it didn’t make a damn bit of a difference. No one was coming to get you… Nobody even tried reaching out which makes you feel that much worse.

You battle with yourself, wrestling your way to slide on a pair of black leggings, along with a long cashmere sweater that falls clear down your thighs. You fight to comb the knots from your hair, clenching your teeth with every painful drag of the brush.

Fight. Win. Don’t let them control you.

Flexing your trembling hands, you squeeze a generous amount of spearmint toothpaste onto your purple toothbrush and jam it into your mouth, scraping it back and forth until you don’t taste the bitter aftertaste of almost two years in captivity.

Your fingers tremble beneath you with every slide of the toothbrush, every clinking noise against your teeth making you gag at the memories of you being left alone with disgusting men in a tiny bathroom against your will. It’s too much, this is too much. So you rinse your mouth and scamper out of the bathroom, closing the door until you can’t feel the goosebumps rising on your skin anymore.

You’re safe. They’re not here. You’re free. But you don’t feel free because those painful memories are alive in your mind, painting vivid pictures that make you instantly want to vomit and recoil into bed. But you don’t let the monsters take you back down into the darkness. You flee to sunlight and hope. You make your way to something that makes you feel lighter, where you can breathe easier, to something that gives you hope.

And that something is Joel.

You smell the fresh coffee brew in the air, inhaling the rich scent as if you can already taste it. When you turn the corner you see Joel’s broad back to you, busy with the coffee machine and the daily newspaper, his large hand brushing past the blur of small-print words.

Instead of stopping to say good morning to him, you decide to venture down the hall. You haven’t been brave enough to really take in the house and explore, but now? Maybe you could try.

The sunlight shines through the open glass windows, making the photographs and hanging art glitter like specks of gold surrounding the black frames. Your eyes skim the family photographs, taking in Joel’s big smile in each of them. One is of him and Tommy, arms clasped around each other’s backs with a little girl standing in front of them, who you suppose is Sarah. Her dark curls spiral to her shoulders while she wraps an arm around her dad.

They look so happy, like a normal family who has never been broken. You wish yours looked like that. But again, it never was. You were always surrounded by screaming parents, right on the brink of a divorce while you’d stay tucked in your room with your hands covering your ears, praying for the noise to just stop.

But it stopped alright. It stopped the moment they crashed their car on top of a mountain and left you to fend for yourself at your uncle’s house. An uncle that never loved you. An uncle that abandoned Washington the moment you moved out at just eighteen-years-old. And then he did too…

You keep moving, holding your composure and tears in. Even though you feel like collapsing right in this spot, right under Joel’s family picture. A family that was still together to this day while yours was nonexistent.

You wish you still had a family, but you never really did in the first place. Did you? No. Mom was always too busy with looking perfect, constantly obsessing with lessening her wrinkles and getting plastic surgery. And dad? Well, he was always too busy working at the law firm and hooking up with his assistant behind mom’s back. You were always left to fend for yourself, so now isn’t any different than it’s ever been.

You’re alone. You’ve always been alone, always just survived. Ever since you were little, that’s all you’ve known — how to be independent and just make it. So what’s different now? Now you just have to swim through the trauma and hope you don’t drown in the process. Because this right now is too much to handle, even for you.

It’s too fucking much.

Choking down the held back tears, you make your way down the long hallway, your body moving on autopilot just to escape the visions that blur into muted noise. The pristine white walls clash against the polished floors, painting you a picture of hope. Something you’ve never really had before.

Keep fighting. Live. Make a change. Break the cycle.

Holding on to new hope, you keep going until you turn the corner and find a large, open room that makes you audibly gasp. All memories of broken families and internal fears are suddenly forgotten, pushed aside to take in this glorious sight.

Holy shit.

Towering mahogany bookshelves sit stacked against the white walls, the cascading windows letting in enough sunlight to reflect off the broken-in spines of each book. Two plush ivory oversized chairs sit in the corner of the room, one opposite the other. An electric fireplace sits idle against one of the bookshelves, draped in vines from the tropical plant that splays atop the bookshelf nearest the fireplace.

This room is… magical. Exactly what you needed. An escape from reality. An escape from your mind.

You trace lines against the smooth covers of the various books, feeling the cracked spines and intricate cursive letters on some of the older books. There’s genres of everything you could ever imagine. Starting from ancient history and going all the way to popular fictional books that you’d see on New York’s best seller’s lists. This room has everything.

You could get lost in here.

Forgetting where you are, your hand snaps back when you hear a deep chuckle behind you. “Thought I heard you come down this mornin’. See you found one of my favorite rooms.”

When you turn around, you see him smiling over at you, the glow of the sun making his brown eyes sparkle an almond brown honey color. If you’re being honest with yourself, it makes you feel a little lighter because his eyes are so warm.

He’s warm.

“These are all yours?” you ask with a gasp as your finger continues to trail against the golden spine of an old history book.

“All mine. Well, a lot of ‘em I got for Sarah. You see, she’s a bit of a bookworm, and she might’ve got me into the classics. So, now I’m jus’ as bad as her,” he laughs as he leans against the bright wall, his smile light and easy like the relaxed state he’s in now.

“This place, it’s incredible,” you breathe out, continuing to skim over the spotless shelves, your fingertips clashing with leather and the feel of worn pages. It smells like freedom and escape, someplace where you could stay buried for days.

He runs his fingers through his slicked back curls, bicep flexing against his dark blue flannel, an easy smile hanging on his lips. This might be the most relaxed you’ve seen him since you came here. He looks almost… happy the way he’s looking at you all light and carefree, like he’s enjoying the view. Like he’s happy that you’ve found something else you lost.

“You like it?” he asks, his eyes caramel pools that you could almost sink into.

“I love it,” you reply enthusiastically, your voice almost unrecognizable.

A warm smile spreads on his mouth, making his brown eyes sparkle that much more in the dewy sunlight. “Then it’s yours, sweetheart. Borrow anything you want, read what you want.”

“Really?” you ask with a raised brow, sliding a book back into its place on the second shelf.

“Really,” he nods with a smile.

“Joel, thank you. This is… this is perfect.”

“Jus’ glad I found someone I can share my books with again.”

You stay just like that for the next minute — Joel on the other end of the room, looking back at you with the warmest smile you’ve ever seen. It makes your heart flutter, makes you want to smile back, but you just give him a tight-lipped smile and look back at the cream rug covering the floor, suddenly too shaky to say anything else.

Your eyes snap to something hidden in the corner of the room, a ray of sunlight hitting at just the right angle to make out something you missed entirely when you walked in. You guess you were too enamored by the books to notice the acoustic guitar sitting neatly on a stand right by the sheer curtain hanging over the window.

“Is this yours?” you ask, pointing to the acoustic guitar.

“Oh. Yeah, s’mine.” His eyes fall to the dark wood, the body glossy and sleek as it shines against the draped curtain. A splash of sunlight makes it shimmer for just a moment, until rain clouds cover the sun and cast the guitar back in shadows.

“You play guitar?” you question curiously as he takes a long, slow stride across the room.

“I used to. A long time ago.”

You watch him make his way over to the guitar. It’s like he’s tiptoeing across glass, careful in his steps to not trip and cut his tanned skin up. That’s how it seems when he hesitantly reaches out to glide his fingertips down the tight strings, skimming his thumb meticulously against the smooth surface of the polished neck as if he’s memorizing every single particle of the instrument. Like he’s reliving something he keeps hidden away from the rest of the world to see.

He’s quiet as he analyzes the guitar, almost like he’s reliving memories that only he can see. Were they good or bad ones? Judging by his wary stance and slow movements, you wonder if maybe they’re fragile memories.

“Used to?” you ask quietly, careful not to disturb whatever storm’s blowing through his mind.

“‘S’right. Haven’t played in quite some time,” he answers defeatedly as his thumb tracks along the outline of a carved moth. He lingers there for a moment, pinching his eyebrows together as if he’s trying to fight off whatever images are haunting his mind.

He looks… sad. Looks as if that guitar holds years of painful memories.

“Why’d you stop?” you push, afraid you’ve just struck a nerve by the way his back muscles tense and his jaw clenches up.

His hand wraps around the neck of the guitar, veins bulging in his neck as his eyes grow a shade darker. In the flit of sunshine that creeps through the window, you see a glimmer that looks a lot like a held back tear in the center of his right eye. That in itself sends a shot of pain through your chest.

He clears his throat and takes a step back, just enough to where he can only graze the edge of the guitar. His dark brown eyes are in a faraway place when he replies hesitantly. “It jus’—it… I guess it’s got a few memories attached to it that makes it hard to play now.”

When he drops his hand to his side and looks up at you, you see a man who’s hurting deep inside. You can see it in his weathered stare, in the dark circles beneath his sad brown eyes, in the way his bottom lip twitches each time his gaze falls on that acoustic guitar.

There’s something he lost, too. You just don’t know what.

Before the room gets too stifling and stuffy, he shakes off his frown and nods toward the hallway. “C’mon, I’ve got your coffee waitin’ on the counter for you. Don’t want it to get cold now.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there.”

He gives you a tight-lipped smile and exits the room, leaving you all alone once again. You find yourself looking back at the guitar, your eyes feeling heavy as you stare at the little moth ingrained into the smooth wood. There’s just something about it that makes your stomach drop.

This guitar was special to him, maybe it still is. You just wonder what can make a big, strong man like him crumble. You don’t want to see him turn to dust like you; you’ve got enough pain for the both of you. He doesn’t deserve pain. He’s too… good. And while he doesn’t technically wear his heart on his sleeve, you can see he keeps the pain hidden behind a mask.

Maybe one day he’ll show you his scars, too.

When you make your way back to the kitchen, your warm cup of coffee is sitting right there on the quartz island, the steam billowing out as if he just poured it. As you slip into your chair, you notice his shoulders are more relaxed and the weathered stare he had back in that room is nearly gone. Whether he put on a mask or tucked his feelings deep inside his pockets to where you can’t see, you still notice the dark lines that edge beneath his brown eyes.

Something hurt him, and it still haunts him to this day.

Slowly taking a sip of the sugary drink, your eyes snap up to him when you hear the deep timbre of his voice. “Used up the rest of the caramel this mornin’.”

You swallow the coffee down your throat and shift forward on the barstool. “Already?”

He chuckles and nods his head your way. “Apparently someone who’s got a sweet tooth used it all. Can’t imagine who that was.” He winks at you, and you can feel the bright blush stain your cheeks the wider his smile gets.

Clearing your throat, you push a lock of hair behind your ear and try to stop the red tint from spreading any further. “Looks like you found the culprit.”

“Looks like it,” he smiles, his lips tugging at his tanned skin, making a deep dimple press into the middle of his cheek. You can’t help yourself, so you give him a shy smile back in return. It seems to make his brown eyes sparkle that much brighter as he stares at you.

You take a few more sips of the caramel drink, enjoying every single drop like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. Joel sets down his glass cup and bites his bottom lip, chewing nervously as he glances over at you. “I need to go pick up some things at the grocery store today. Shouldn’t take long at all, but I was wonderin’ if you wanted to come along with me?”

You choke on a sip of coffee and struggle to find your words. You haven’t been out in the real world in a very long time. You don’t even know how to even interact, nonetheless see strangers passing by you.

Tapping your nails nervously against the glass cup, you fight to get the words out. “Oh. You… want me to go to the store with you?”

“Only if you want. Figured you’d wanna pick some things out.”

“Umm. Okay. Sure. I can go with you,” you breathe out nervously, pushing all your fears down as you swallow back the answer you really wanted to say.

“Alright. Well, how’s ‘bout you finish up breakfast, and we can go after you get ready?” His thumb brushes over the curve of his coffee cup, and your eyes track his movements as he slowly brings the edge to his lips.

And then you’re swallowing back fears again and dropping your eyes to the floor, awaiting the panic that’ll surely flood your system when you get to the store.

You can do this. Fight the fear.

Biting the bullet, you look up and give him a slight nod. “Okay, after breakfast.”

Joel grins and turns back to the refrigerator, away from your now wide eyes. You’re suddenly regretting your choice, but you have to go through with it. You have to be brave. For yourself.

You can do this.

Light rain patters on the passenger window, sending water droplets splashing along the side mirror. It’s only sprinkling, but the thunder in the near distance makes it seem like it might pour down at any second.

The engine hums as the wheels roll on the pavement, green trees blurring as Joel drives along the long, straight road. An old country song seeps through the speakers as Joel’s thumb taps along to the catchy tune. It’s oddly peaceful, driving with him in his truck. It almost makes you forget the nerves crawling up your spine.

“Does it always rain this much in Texas? I thought it was supposed to be like a desert here,” you ask, your eyes tracking the sea of trees outside your window.

“Usually is. Hell, we’re usually in a drought. But for some reason, we’ve been gettin’ a record amount this year. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” he says as he continues driving through the mist.

“That’s strange.” You trace the condensation on the window and draw little lines, hoping you’ll forget you’re about to go out in public.

“You must’ve brought some rain from Washington.” He smiles over at you and continues tapping his thumb along to the rhythm of the upbeat song.

“Guess I did,” you laugh under your breath as you finish off your window art of a blooming flower.

The music goes silent as Joel turns down the radio with the pad of his index finger. When you turn to look at him with questions in your eyes, he clears his throat and looks warily over at you. “Do you… do you miss it?”

“Miss what?” you whisper, letting your fingers pull against the edge of your warm sweater.

“Washington,” he responds back, eyes flicking between you and the road ahead.

You take a moment to envision the forest green trees, the frigid air by the edge of the sea, the cliffsides you used to hang over to stare into the deep blue ocean. And that’s when you feel a sharp pain jab inside your chest. “Sometimes… I miss the waterfalls, the salty breeze of the ocean, the beautiful nature. I’ve never seen a state as gorgeous as Washington. And how green it is? Yeah, I guess I do miss it…”

The front of the truck grows quiet as Joel takes in your answer. His palm rakes against his dark beard slowly, brushing across his mouth like he’s thinking really hard about your answer. And just when you think he’ll drop the conversation, he says something that leaves you speechless.

“I’ll take you back.”

Your eyes blow wide as you repeat the sentence in your head. I’ll take you back. Why would he do that…

“What?” you ask, jaw dropped like you just got slapped in the face.

He gives you a small smile and looks over at you with the softest brown eyes you’ve ever seen. “When you’re ready, that is. And only if you want to go back. I could help you get your feet back on the ground, find you a nice place where you’ll be comfortable. If that’s what you want.”

You stare at him dumbstruck, your words lodged deep in your throat with every second that ticks by. He’ll take you back. But why would he do that for you? Why would he do what no one else would? Why does he care what happens to you…

“Joel, that’s—that’s too much. I can’t ask you to do that,” you protest, shaking your head like what he just said is impossible.

He shakes his head, making a sandy lock of hair fall against the side of his forehead. “It’s not too much, and I’d do it in a heartbeat. S’no trouble,” he says adamantly, like he won’t hear anything else about it. It’s settled for him.

“Thank you…” you whisper out, your voice barely audible above the hum of the engine.

He arches an eyebrow and looks over at you, tugging his lips into an easy smile. “Ya know, gonna have to get you your own car, too.”

“Joel,” you warn through clenched teeth. He is not getting you a car. Absolutely no way.

“What?” he shrugs. “You can’t get around without a car.”

You shake your head unbelievably and open your mouth wide. “I can’t pay for a car.”

“‘M not askin’ you to. I’ve got money.”

And again, you can’t believe how insistent and easy-going he’s taking this. “Joel. I can’t ask you for a car. Absolutely not. And besides, I’m not ready to drive yet.”

He flashes you a smile and gives you a nod of encouragement. “S’alright, sweetheart. You’ll get there in time. And when you do, you’ll have a car.”

You lick your bottom lip, frustrated slightly that he’s being so kind to you. No one has ever been this nice in your entire life. Not even your parents… Why is he treating you like you’re important? You’ve never been important. So why does he act like you’re the only thing that currently matters?

“There’s no stopping you, is there?” you give up, your back flush to the warm seat as you stare into deep brown eyes that belong to the kindest man you’ve ever met.

He thinks you’re important.

“Not a chance,” he chuckles, his airy laugh floating through the cabin of the truck, striking another nerve in your heart.

He’s so kind, more than that. He genuinely wants you to thrive, to live. That takes a little weight off your heavy chest.

It’s quiet for a moment, only the light wind and patter of raindrops taking up the space. But then he shifts uncomfortably and flicks his wandering eyes back over at you. There’s a deep crease between his thick eyebrows, and that look has you back on the edge of your seat. “Can I ask you somethin’?” he asks delicately.

You swallow back nerves and nod your head in response. “Umm, okay. Sure.”

“What, umm. What happened to your parents, if you don’t mind me askin’?”

The question makes you tilt a little off your axis, throws you off just enough to where your right hand is discreetly clenched so tight around the side of the seat that you swear it turns pale white. You weren’t prepared for that question. You’re never prepared. But, you might as well just spill it. What else do you have to lose?

“They—they died when I was fifteen… Crashed their car on the side of a mountain, and they ended up rolling off the edge. On the very same day they were driving to get a divorce…”

His eyes blow wide for a second and in the next he’s dragging a heavy hand over his mouth. “Oh, sweetheart. ‘M so sorry. That’s… traumatic.”

You can’t help but to puff out a pathetic laugh from that. Your life has been nothing but traumatic; you just learn to live through it.

You silently nod and continue on. “After I found out, the judge decided I’d go live with my uncle. An uncle who barely talked to me. He didn’t even want me there, but I had no other options. So, I left as soon as I turned eighteen and moved into a dorm when I went to college.”

“Is he still…”

“He moved out of Washington as soon as I left. Last I heard, he died from a heart attack. So I’ve just kinda been on my own since I was eighteen. But really, I’ve been alone for much longer than that.”

The inside of the truck goes completely silent, except the quiet hum of the purring engine. You don’t exactly like talking about your family drama and your awful past, but it’s easier when you already feel dead inside. Maybe if you talk enough Joel will decide to drop you off on the side of the street and leave you with a good luck wave.

He wouldn’t do that, though. That’s just your unhinged mind spiraling like your entire life is.

“That’s… fuck. No one should ever be put through that. What you did, what you had to do. M’so sorry.”

You shrug it off and act like you’re just fine, but really you just don’t want to cry. You don’t want to show him how weak and pathetic you truly are. You used to be stronger than this…

Holding in a sob, you play it off like it’s nothing. “It’s alright. I mean, I’ve been through a lot worse since then. I guess I’m good at being alone…”

It gets quiet again, only light breathing and shifting uncomfortably in your seat, trying to hide the pain that’s serenading through your body. Joel’s eyes keep flicking over to you, a pained expression masking his tanned face. He’s clenching his jaw, running his fingers through his dark locks, fisting the steering wheel until his knuckles are white.

His head turns to you when he’s stopped at a red light, and his eyes turn a lighter honey color, and those soft eyes nearly shatter you in your seat. “You don’t have to be. Alone. You don’t have to be alone anymore...”

You swallow back the tears building in your eyes while your mouth drops open in awe. Before you even get the chance to say anything, he’s stepping on the gas and looking back into the fog of the rainy day.

You don’t have to be alone anymore.

The rest of the ride is silent as you contemplate his words and their meaning. You don’t have to be alone. He means you don’t have to be alone because he’s here now. He won’t let you be alone. Joel is the one person who isn't giving up on you.

He’s so patient, so generous, so good. He’s too good for you but here he is, wading through the rough waters to make sure your head’s above the waves. He won’t let you drown. Not today, maybe not ever…

After a few more minutes, the truck is abruptly stopping, and Joel is cutting the engine. Your head lurches up, and you stare vacantly at the semi-busy parking lot.

The parking lot…

It looks just like the one you got taken from… Rows of parked cars sit along the damp cement, empty carts are scattered ahead in the little blue cart holder, people rush to and from the store back to their cars. And then you see a man exit his white Sedan with a black baseball cap backwards on his head. The sight has you flinching, your nails digging into the leather of the seat when he turns his head and looks directly at you. It’s only for a second, but you feel those black pits searing into your skull just like that day they took you…

“Well, here we are. A little more crowded than I thought it’d be for a Wednesday afternoon. We can jus’—.”Joel’s hand clasps the side of the driver’s door as he steps out, looking back at you with worried brown eyes. “Hey, you okay?”

It’s like your voice is lurched deep in your throat as water consumes your entire vocal cords. You can’t swallow, can’t speak, can barely even blink as you watch the shady man cross the road, taking one look back at you until he disappears behind the clear sliding doors of the store. And it still feels like he’s watching you, planning his next move to where he can get you alone.

You remember that day all over again, just like it was yesterday. And now, all you can think of to do is panic.

“N… no. I—.” You can’t even finish your sentence, only able to throw your seatbelt off and claw at the door handle, feeling like you’re suffocating on thick air that nearly strangles you to death.

You need to flee, run until your lungs collapse, but you have nowhere to go.

Tears well in your eyes as you fight to push out the images of the day you were taken, but they only push back harder, igniting your memories into fresh ones. You’re hyperventilating, holding your chest so tightly that you feel your heart skyrocket as you shake in your seat while your feet are planted on the wet cement of the parking lot.

Joel hurries around the side of the truck and throws your door open, trying his best to calm you down. “Hey, hey. It’s alright, sweetheart. You’re alright. Breathe for me.”

“Joel… I…”

“Breathe,” he coaxes in a soothing bravado voice. He kneels down in front of you to where he’s looking right up at you, and he’s got those soft brown eyes — the ones that always seem to calm you down. And when you have enough courage to lift your eyes, there they are. Warm, brown, soft, soothing. He’s soothing.

“That’s it. Take a nice deep breath for me. Jus’ like that. Attagirl,” he praises, keeping his honey-colored eyes right on you.

“I—I was…” you start but like always, you can’t finish.

You’re pathetic.

“S’alright, sweetheart. M’right here. Jus’ breathe for me. And when you’re ready, tell me what’s wrong.” His hand brushes past your feet, close enough to touch your exposed ankle, but he never does. Because he knows better. He knows it’ll just set off a string of catastrophic events that’ll only lead you into a deeper black hole than you already are.

But yet, you can’t help but want it. Because you feel how warm he is. Just like that night he carried you to the bathroom. You remember how warm and comforting you felt with your face nuzzled in the crook of his neck, remember his woodsy cologne drowning out your fight or flight panic, remember how gentle he was with you…

You slowly lift your eyes up and push away the screaming voices in your mind. They seem to come to a jarring halt when you meet those soft brown eyes and a face you swear has an angelic glow about it. His fingers flex against the floorboard, just enough to where you can feel the warmth from his tanned skin, and just that motion causes your heart to still for just a beat.

Warm. He’s so warm.

After a few more seconds of steady breaths and his heavy gaze honing in on you, you get enough courage to shakily let your words out. “I was—I was taken in a parking lot just like this. In the middle of the day. And I—I guess I wasn’t quite ready to see another one.”

He falls silent, and his face drops like he’s just seen a ghost. His eyes glaze over as a heavy hand rakes down his clipped beard, slowly dragging it over his lips as he takes in your words. “Oh. Christ, m’so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t even think ‘bout that before I brought you here. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

Shaking your head back and forth, you swallow and grimace. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you. I didn’t—I didn’t think I’d freak out. But then the memories hit me and I—I… it’s my fault. It’s all my—.”

He leans into the side of the truck, careful not to touch you, but still close enough to where you can almost taste his woodsy breath. “Shh. Don’t for a second think of apologizin’, sweetheart. None of this is your fault. Not one fuckin’ bit of it.”

He looks at you so intensely, so cautiously that you can clearly see the amber flecks that swirl under the cloudy skies, his jaw flexing back and forth as he searches for more to say, but he doesn’t have to say anything. You feel what he’s feeling. Regret, rage, sorrow. He wishes it never happened to you.

You take a shaky breath and glance up behind him, right as an older couple with two kids clinging to their arms passes peacefully by. A car door slams shut across the way, and it makes you jump in place, remembering that very moment you were corralled into a black van as the door slammed shut behind you, warning you that you were trapped.

As you cringe in your seat and feel your knuckles go white, you whisper, “I’m scared, Joel. I can’t—I can’t...”

“Hey. Can you look up at me?” he asks gently, slightly brushing the pad of his thumb against the side of your shoe. When you look up with watery eyes, he gives you an encouraging nod. “There ya go.”

Your body is trembling with every swift movement and every screeching halt of tires in the parking lot. You start to drift back into a panic, but Joel sees right through you and pulls you right back out with his chocolate brown eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me. Right on me. That’s it. Such a brave girl,” he coos; his voice sounding like a melodic tune that vanishes all your dark thoughts from wrapping their tangled vines completely around your stirred mind.

As you continue to stare at those beautiful caramel eyes, you get lost in the sound of his Southern drawl. “I want you to focus on one thing. It can be anything. A scent, a color, whatever brings you comfort. And I want you to focus on that one thing until your mind starts to quiet down.”

You look around the truck, searching the fresh leather, letting your eyes wander to a nearby green tree, focusing on some drifting stormy clouds that cover the sun. But none of that makes you feel good or even remotely calm, so you let your eyes wander to the rugged, Southern gentleman who’s kneeling right in front of you, begging with those soft brown eyes for you to get even just a semblance of a second of peace.

Warm. He’s so warm.

You get lost in his cinnamon, woodsy scent, fade into his coffee-colored eyes and feel like you’re crashing right into him. You can’t seem to stop staring, almost like you’re under a lovesick spell, but really it’s just your body telling you he is what brings you comfort. Joel Miller, the man who saved you from your impending doom.

So, that’s what you focus on. Him and his warm brown eyes.

“Okay,” you finally whisper out, never dropping your eyes from his.

He looks at you a second and tilts his head, making sure he heard you right. “You got it?”

“Mhm,” you hum back.

A faint smile appears on his mouth and then his hand is skimming the brim of the floor, close enough for you to feel the electricity from his touch zapping your leggings. But still, he doesn’t dare touch you. He’d never do it without your permission. You know this now.

“Now, close your eyes and picture that one thing that’s gonna drown out everything else,” he says through the light rain pattering on the tips of his broad shoulders, right onto his soft blue flannel.

“Joel…” you reply back leery.

“You trust me?” he asks with knit together eyebrows.

You chew your bottom lip for a second before you answer, throwing the question back and forth between your brain. “I—yes.”

He gives you a smile and nods. “Close ‘em for me then. Jus’ for a second.” You do exactly as he says.

When your eyes are fully shut, his Southern drawl floats through your ears. “Focus on my voice, sweetheart. Focus on how still it is; make your heart that same rhythm. Slow it down, jus’ like my words.”

You focus on every breath he breathes, every sound of the shift of his shoulders, every whisk of the wind sweeping through his tousled curls. For this moment, every single other restless sound outside the truck is silent. For the first time, all you hear is him.

You center your mind on him and him alone. And when that whiff of cedar trees and mahogany swirl all around you, you relax and breathe him in like he’s the last thing you’ll ever smell.

“Now, open your eyes,” he says after you lose track of time.

You slowly lift your eyelids and look out beneath your lashes as those bright brown eyes send you into a cloud of serenity. And in that moment, you really do feel like you’re home.

“There ya go, nice and slow. Feel that? Things are a bit quieter now,” he says gently, giving you a soft smile that makes you choke back tears.

Nodding, you reply, “Yeah, it actually is quieter.”

It’s quiet for a beat as you sit there, your palms on your thighs, fingers digging into your leggings, but his presence right in front of you is oddly calming. Just like taking a deep breath of Washington air in the mountains. You swear you almost smell those pine trees like you’re there, but it’s Joel you smell.

“You feel a little better?” he asks, scratching his fingers down his greying scruff, brown eyes flicking up at you like you’re the most important thing in the room.

“Yes,” you nod, still trying to wrap your mind around how quickly Joel was able to calm you down.

“See? Knew you could do it.” His smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and it makes you give him a shy smile in return.

When’s the last time someone was able to get you to smile? You can’t even remember.

“I did it because you helped me,” you confirm, wanting to make sure he knows he was the reason you had the courage to break through your panic attack.

“That’s right, sweetheart. I helped you, but you were the one that broke the panic attack. You’re so very brave, and I hope you know that.”

You’re so brave. He called you brave.

The way he’s looking at you makes your heart skip a beat. All soft and gentle and warm. You’ve never been around a man like Joel. Never once knew how good a man could be. But Joel, he’s like an angel sent from Heaven’s gates just for you. Or so it seems.

You swore to never trust a man again, but you can trust him.

“Now, you think you can make it in the store?” He tilts his head in the direction of the sliding doors, just as a young couple walks in with an empty grocery basket.

Gulping some courage down, you nod. “I—I think so.”

“Attagirl. Now, c’mon.” He holds the door open for you and calls your name softly, giving you that jolt you need to exit the truck. “It’s alright. Nobody’s gonna hurt ya. Not while I’m here.”

“You promise?” you ask when your feet hit the concrete, your voice shaky like you don’t quite believe him, but you do.

“Promise,” he nods, his crow’s feet pulling at the corners of his bright eyes. It’s enough to get your legs moving.

“Okay,” you whisper.

You follow closely on his heels, your fingertips grazing the bottom of his flannel, close enough to grab on if you need to. Your heart is galloping a thousand miles an hour with every step you take, but his woodsy scent is just enough to quiet down the yelling in your head.

When you get to the edge of the sliding doors, you freeze when they open to a busy grocery store. The loud noises of rustling bags and screeching wheels of carts is enough to make you want to run the opposite way.

Joel must sense your worry because he brushes his arm next to yours and looks down at you with knitted eyebrows. “S’alright. I’m gonna be right by your side every step of the way. You can do this.”

You can do this.

Looking up into his syrupy brown eyes gives you that little bit of strength to get you moving again. And when he grabs a shopping cart and beckons you to follow him, you do.

“Thanks for believing in me, Joel,” you say graciously.

“Always.”

You keep right by his side, the fluorescent lights feeling like spotlights shining down on you. It’s like every single person shifts their eyes toward you, faces distorted and smiling like they’re laughing at your fear. The music that filters out of the speakers makes your ears ring. Children run rampant around a restless mother, a tall man with a backwards baseball cap reaches across a barrel full of pineapples, and it’s as if he’s reaching for your wrist.

Without thinking, you grab on to the end of Joel’s flannel and tug it toward you, digging your fingers into the soft cotton as if it’s a safety blanket. The smell of fresh firewood and green grass envelops your senses and for the moment, everything becomes a little more still.

“You keep tuggin’ on my flannel and you’re gonna pull it right off,” Joel chuckles, giving you a small smile as he looks back at you.

“Oh, sorry,” you apologize, dropping your fingers as if you just upset him.

“Don’t gotta apologize. You jus’ hang on if that’s what you need right now.”

You slowly reach back up and flex your fingers around the blue material, peeking up hesitantly beneath your lashes.

“Your flannel, it smells like the forest. Reminds me of the mountains in Washington. It umm… it calms me down.”

“Well then, it’s yours, sweetheart.” Those pools of honey liquid melt you on the spot; his warm smile takes the edge of fear off your chest for just that moment. And when that whiff of autumn from his white t-shirt floats through the air, it’s like he saved you all over again.

He drops his hands from the shopping cart and starts unbuttoning his flannel, carefully shrugging it off his broad shoulders as you stare blankly up at him. And then, he’s holding out the faded blue material to you.

“No, I can’t. I’m fine. I—.” You take a step back and press a palm his way.

“Here, put it on,” he insists, stretching his arm until you have no option but to take it.

“Are you sure?” you squeak out, unsure of yourself.

“Mhm. Want you to feel safe. And if this makes you feel a little calmer, want you to wear it.”

Hesitating, you carefully pluck it from his reach and end up sliding your hand against the back of his, feeling a tingle of a spark from his worn, calloused skin.

“Thanks, Joel,” you whisper above the monotone music playing over the store speakers.

“Anytime, sweetheart. Anytime.” He nods his head toward the produce section and smiles. “C’mon.”

You stay right beside him, almost flush to his hip with every wavering stride you take, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. No, he just keeps his brown eyes flickering over to you every minute that ticks by, encouraging you with that kind smile of his, telling you with the curve of his lips that you’re doing so well. You can almost hear that Southern drawl sliding off his tongue.

I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Doin’ so good. Look at you, bein’ the bravest girl I know.

Even though he’s not verbally saying those things at this second, you can tell he’s thinking it with the way his doe eyes soften every time they look your way. You can tell by how warm and kind his essence is, how his smile seems to send a flicker of sunshine your way even behind a thick wall of grey clouds.

He’s just… safe. You feel so safe around him, and that’s something you’ve never felt in your entire life. You’ve never been safe. But with him, you just might be.

The clicking of heels and the stare of curious eyes makes you physically cringe and tense your shoulders, thinking one of them will snatch you away yet again. You keep your mind busy by counting the threads of Joel’s blue flannel, training your eyes on his slicked back tan curls, meticulously staring at every single strand that’s wrapped in a silver glow. It seems to help, gives the impression that maybe you can do this. And you are.

At times when he strays too far, you reach for him unintentionally. It’s like your hand is magnetized to the feel of his cotton shirt, your fingers curling into the thick material. And again, he doesn’t seem to mind, only smiles and goes on with gathering groceries.

He doesn’t forget the caramel, doesn’t forget to grab a few bottles of vanilla creamer and extra sugar. In fact, those were the things he went for first.

He doesn’t forget things. Doesn’t forget what you wanted. And that in itself proves something. What, you’re not sure. But it proves he cares, that you do know.

You follow him to the produce section and watch him shift his focus on picking the best meat, promising to get the best steak for dinner. You haven’t had steak in years, and you don’t doubt for one second that Joel can cook a mean one.

Averting your eyes from his pensive stare and flexed jaw, your gaze wanders over to the cereal aisle, and you suddenly have the biggest craving for a box of Cocoa Pebbles.

Saliva gathers in your mouth as you think of how sugary and good and delightful a mouthful of chocolatey goodness would taste right now. Without thinking, you pull on the end of his shirt, stretching the material mindlessly as your brain transfixes on the mountain of sugar just a few feet away. It’d be so easy to go grab a box, but your feet won’t move, your words won’t form because you’re terrified to be alone for even a second in a grocery store of all places.

With one more slight tug on the edge of his t-shirt, he turns with a soft expression and questions, “What is it, sweetheart?” No anger or hint of annoyance in his Southern drawl, just pure warmth.

Your voice stays silent, your immense stare fixed on that aisle of sugar and thousands of calories you’d happily inhale. You’re sure your frail body would thank you, even if it was just junk. Joel’s eyes trace over yours, following to where yours end, and then a small chuckle leaves his lips. “You wanna go grab some?”

“Yeah.”

“Go on then. Why don’t you go pick some out?” He nods to the empty aisle, encouraging you on. But you stand there like your feet are cemented to the shiny floor, and you have no intention of moving.

Fear pulses through your blood, and anxiety is trickling down your spine. Joel takes a step forward and drawls in a low but soothing voice, “S’okay. I’ll be right here watchin’. You can do it, sweetheart.”

You look up and see warm pools of honey staring down at you and a smile that makes your knees feel weak. He’s so fucking soft with you.

Nodding, you take a step forward and then another, dragging your feet toward the aisle of boxes of sugary goodness. The further you get away from him, the more anxious you get.

What if someone takes you, gets too close to your liking, grabs your arm and drags you away? Looking back toward Joel, he gives you a small nod, telling you it’s okay. You’re okay.

Turning back to your task at hand, you start scanning the shelves, your appetite suddenly stimulated as you scavenge for what you’re looking for. Saliva is coating the back of your tongue, your stomach rumbling. There’s too many choices, too many kinds you want.

When you finally spot a box of Cocoa Pebbles, you see two more kinds you want. Lucky Charms and Cinnamon Toast Crunch sit right next to each other, calling your name for you to take them. Gritting your teeth together, you make a choice. You want all three, so you dip into your impulses and grab them all up. Hopefully Joel doesn’t mind.

A middle-aged man passes you in the row, and your muscles tighten around you, making you squish the boxes together in your arms. You focus on deep breaths, telling yourself he’s not going to hurt you. Not every man is out to get you, but it certainly feels like that now. Maybe one day you’ll be able to break the cycle of thinking that.

Quickly passing the stranger, you prance up to Joel, all three cereal boxes shoved together in your arms, just like you’re a kid in a candy store. You hear him chuckling before you lift your eyes up to him, and then he lets out a belly-aching laugh.

“Look at you with three boxes. You really do have a sweet tooth, don’t ya?”

You feel your cheeks grow warm as you set the boxes down in the cart. Nervous laughter filters out of your mouth. “I couldn’t quite decide what I wanted. I can put some back if…”

“No. I’m jus’ teasin’, sweetheart. You get as many kinds as you want. Ain’t got a limit with me.” His wide grin and crow’s feet makes a small smile tug at the corner of your lips.

“Thanks,” you say shyly. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had any cereal, or really any kind of sugar. So, this is different. I’m not used to any of this.”

Understanding hits his brown eyes and his jaw clenches as something tosses through his mind. “Well, we’re jus’ gonna have to change that, ain’t we?”

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Call me a work in progress.”

He gives you a soft smile and wraps a large hand around the cart. “You’re doin’ jus’ fine, sweetheart. Makin’ plenty of progress jus’ by steppin’ foot in this store today. Proud of you.”

He’s proud of you.

“I wouldn’t have even made it into the store if it wasn’t for you…”

He takes a long look at you and just stands there for a few seconds, searching for the right words to say. “It was all you, sweetheart. You jus’ needed a little push in the right direction and someone to be there for you.”

“Thank you for being there when I needed someone, Joel…” you whisper, your eyes a little misty with emotions running rampant through your body.

It looks like he wants to reach out, but he just grips the handle of the shopping cart tighter and tips his head. “‘Course, sweetheart. Whenever you need me.”

Whenever you need me. The words get stuck on repeat in your brain as you follow him through the rest of the grocery store. You think you’d follow him anywhere.

When you’re all checked out and the bagged groceries are sitting inside the cart, you realize Joel’s flannel is still wrapped around you. You don’t want to take it off necessarily. It smells like him, and it’s so warm and cozy and basically drenched in forest air. But, it’s not yours. You slowly start to shed the warm layer, but he stops you before you can get it past your elbows.

“Keep it, sweetheart.” He presses a palm out, pausing you in your tracks.

“Don’t you want it back?” you ask with knitted brows.

“Nah, you go ahead and keep it,” he answers. Before you can walk out the door, he turns and smiles warmly at you. “Besides, it looks better on you.” And then he continues on, like he didn’t just give you a compliment.

It looks better on you.

You hug the blue flannel back against your body, breathing in the very essence of him that seems to calm every single nerve in your body.

He gave you his flannel.

Once the groceries are all packed away in the back of the truck and both you and Joel are buckled up, he turns to you before driving out of the parking lot. “So, you wanna go get ice cream?”

“Ice cream?”

“Mhm. Ice cream,” he confirms.

“Whatever for?” you giggle.

“Don’t you like ice cream?” he inquires, flicking his brown eyes over your way.

“Well, yes. But…”

“I think brave girls deserve ice cream. Don’t you?”

You study him, looking for any sign of lies in the crow’s feet that pull tightly around the edges of his chocolate brown eyes, but you find none. He isn’t messing with you or your mind; he’s being completely sincere when he uses the word brave. “You think I’m a brave girl?”

“The bravest.” He smiles, his eyes twinkling like golden orbs under the grey skies, and it just confirms how warm he is.

You gawk at him, your lips parting as you just stare and stare at him. He thinks you’re brave, and he wants to take you for ice cream? Who even is this man?

“What?” He catches you staring and probably wonders why you’re just marveling over him. He must not realize you’re completely mesmerized by every single thing he does.

No one’s ever treated you so human. Like you’re important and matter. Joel sees you. He really sees you. Your layers and all. Just like transparent glass.

“You just surprise me, that's all,” you answer hesitantly, eyes still focused on his tanned skin and wrinkles that line like maps across his face. Something you could trace easily. “You’re not exactly what I expected, I guess.”

“And what’d you expect?” He quirks an eyebrow up as the engine hums under your seat, his eyes making their way back to your face.

“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think you’d be so… kind.”

He curls his lips into a sideways smile while he taps his thumb against the leather steering wheel, eyes still focused directly on you. “I try my best, sweetheart.”

“You don’t even have to. You just are. Just like that first night I saw you sitting there across the room. Your eyes seemed so… kind.”

Everything seems to quiet down for a moment, only the sound of your heart, the slow motion of the tires hitting the wet pavement, the thick tension coursing through the air, and Joel’s clear brown eyes that are smothering your insides. They speak louder than tidal waves, those deep brown irises. And right now, they’re making your heart clench in your chest.

He clears his throat and then the tension dissipates. “So, how ‘bout that ice cream?” He wraps his large palm around the steering wheel and smiles over, making you mirror one right back to him.

“I’d love some ice cream.”

“Attagirl. Let’s go get you sugared up, then.” As he pulls out of the shopping center and drives down the smooth road, you giggle silently and watch the trickles of raindrops drip down the side of the passenger window.

“Have you ever tried espresso ice cream?” you ask, shifting your weight so you can see the question roll over his brown eyes.

“As a matter of fact, I haven’t.”

“I think you’d like it,” you chirp.

He turns his head and looks at you, pulling his lips into a smirk. “Reckon I would. That what you recommend?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “Since you like coffee so much, might be your new favorite flavor.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, looks like that’s what I’m gonna have to get. Let’s see what other recommendations you have for me.”

As you lean against the window, you place the back of your hand over your mouth to cover the blush that's building in your cheeks. Who knew this is where you’d be in the middle of Wednesday afternoon this time of year? In a truck, wearing Joel’s flannel, getting ice cream, being free of your captors… And all you can smell is the fresh woodsy scent of him surrounding you.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #healing fic

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shoroa91 · 18 days ago

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🚨Struggling for Survival: A Family’s Hope Amid Cold 🥶 Nights and Endless Hardship” 🩸

I am Shorouq, a mother of three children: Qusai, 7 years old, Eileen, 5 years old, and Hisham, who is nearing his second birthday. I lived with my husband Samer in a beautiful home in northern Gaza, where our lives were filled with hope. Every corner of our home held precious memories, from our children’s laughter to the happy moments we shared as a family. But over a year ago, everything changed. The dream we built turned into an endless nightmare. We lost everything, and our journey of suffering and displacement began.

On the night of October 10, 2023, after I had put my children to bed, the bombing grew closer. At exactly 1:30 AM, the threat came. We had to leave our home immediately. There was no time to think, 🤔 no time to gather anything. We carried our children 🧒 and fled into the dark, not knowing where to go, just trying to survive the relentless bombing. Our home, 🏠 mom 👩 which was once our safe haven, was partially destroyed and became uninhabitable. Along with it, all the beautiful memories we made were gone. We left with no food, no extra clothes, and none of the basic necessities for our children.

We moved around for two weeks inside Gaza City, being displaced twice during that time, until we finally reached Rafah on October 20, 2023. There, a new chapter of our suffering began. We had no choice but to live in a small tent. ⛺️ As a mother, the hardest thing was seeing my children hungry and not being able to provide for them. No clean 🧼 water, no food 🍱 to sustain them, and the cold 🥶 wrapping around their small bodies.

My son Qusai has had a heart ♥️ condition since birth, requiring several surgeries. In these circumstances, we can’t access the medical 🏥 care he needs, not even basic medicine. 💊 Every time I see him in pain, my heart breaks. How can I, as a mother, not provide safety and treatment for my child?👦

My daughter Eileen, only five years old, has been deeply affected by the war. She was once a joyful 😀 and lively child, but now fear 😨 has taken over her small face. She no longer laughs like she used to, and she no longer dreams of the future. The war has stolen her childhood.

On October 5, 2023, we were threatened again and forced to flee from Rafah to Deir al-Balah. This was our fifth displacement. We stayed there for two months, but even Deir al-Balah wasn’t safe. Once again, we packed our few belongings and headed to the town of Zawaida.

My youngest son, Hisham, who hasn’t yet turned two, is suffering from malnutrition. I cannot describe the feeling of looking at my baby, knowing he is hungry and not being able to provide him with the proper food. Prices for basic needs have skyrocketed, with even diapers costing $100. We were also living in constant fear of the polio outbreak, 😷 which was declared by the World Health Organization. 🏥 This added another layer of terror for us as a family, fearing for our children’s health, but thankfully, we managed to get them vaccinated just in time.

For the second year in a row, my children 🧒 have not been able to attend school. 🏫 No education, no clear future. As a mother, I feel helpless, unable to give them the hope they deserve.

We now live in a small tent ⛺️ where everything is cramped into one tiny space. The bathroom, 🚽 kitchen, and sleeping 🛌 area are all in one room. The war rages on, and we live between fear, hunger, and the cold.🥶

Today, I ask for your help. As a mother, 🧑 all I want is to take my children to a safe place, where they can enjoy their childhood without fear or hunger. We need your support, as the cost of travel alone is $5,000💵per person for me and my husband, and $2,500 💵for each of our three children, bringing the total to $17,500, 💵just to cover the expenses required by travel companies to get us to safety.

In addition to this, we need ongoing support to start a new life. We need your help to rent a home, continue my son Qusai’s medical treatment, and enroll my children in school so they can resume their education. My husband and I need the means to stand on our feet again, to rebuild our lives and give our children the future they deserve.

Please support us in this campaign so we can escape this suffering and provide a dignified life for my children, far from the destruction.

Help us give my children a chance at a new life.

Our campaign ✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #240 )✅️

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loveshotzz · 8 months ago

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I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter three -

This has got to be the longest crush ever

Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.

warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚

wc: 6.3k

authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

Would you believe me if I said I’m in love?

Baby, I want you to want me.

You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.

All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week.

When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught.

Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.

”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.

“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”

Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming

Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out.

Oh no.

Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too.

“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.

No, no, no, NO.

You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.

Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack.

Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.

He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.

”Psst, hey.”

The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.

”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.

”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.

You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes.

“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.

”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.

”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.

Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.

”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.

Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.

”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”

“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.

”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.

”Is it?”

”Absolutely.”

“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.

”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name.

Yeah… you were fucked.

“I’ve got a date tonight!”

Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again.

“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.

”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”

“Yeah, okay, Steve.”

It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh.

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics.

“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.

“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”

Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.

”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.

”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.

”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.

”Robin.”

”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.

If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.

”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.

”Maybe.”

”Maybe?!”

”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.

”What?”

”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.

Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.

The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.

The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours.

Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around.

The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.

”Buckley residen-“

”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”

“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.

”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“

”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.

”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.

”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance.

”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.

Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:

Eddie and Steve.

You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.

You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along.

It only rings twice.

“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.

”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.

“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.

“Yeah, the middle schooler.”

“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“

“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-”

“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”

”My shoes are already on.”

After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries.

Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.

The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.

One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.

You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.

He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.

”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.

When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.

”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”

”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.

”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.

Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump.

There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.

A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.

”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.

”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”

He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry.

“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.”

He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit.

Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change.

It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips.

“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop.

She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.

“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”

Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.

Got me up all night

all I’m singing is love songs.

“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”

Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek.

“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”

”Shut up!”

”Will you stop?!”

You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm.

“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.

“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?

”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.

“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”

Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.

”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”

Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.

”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”

You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.

”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’

His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.

”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.

“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.

“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”

It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.

But Robin does.

With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself.

With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.

Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.

You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.

Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.

A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible.

The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real.

He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.

It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again.

The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.

You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist

“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”

Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs.

“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”

His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.

Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight.

“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.

”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”

”What?”

”Last week,”

”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”

“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.

“What about now?”

“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.

”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.

”If you want me to.” He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours.

Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.

”Please tell me you want me to.”

The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.

“Kiss me, Steve.”

A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.

He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.

Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.

“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.

It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.

He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.

”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.

”Steve -“

”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.

”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.

”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.

🌻 chapter four

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x y/n

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jccatstudios · 2 months ago

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SoC Comic Chapter 3, the future, and more!

Hey! Got some updates today. First of all, thanks for reading Chapter 3! I've been sitting on these pages for a month now, and it's so amazing to finally get them out there for you to enjoy. It's been lovely to share this passion project of mine with you.

Chapter 3 PDF Release

Just like last time, the full Chapter 3 PDF will be released on Gumroad! You'll get an ebook version of the full comic (complete with updated pages and bonus art) for absolutely free. Chapter 2 is already up, but Chapter 3 will be released on September 20 at 12 pm EST. Same day as CK's anniversary!

Physical Copies

Physical copies of 2 and 3 are in the works! If you ordered a copy last time, it'll be a pretty similar process. I'll share a link here once my copies come in. Unlike last time, I unfortunately will not be offering a discount to people who tip on Gumroad due to difficulties with records-keeping. Orders are still US only, but you are always welcome to print out your own copies of the PDFs. Keep your eyes out for the link!

Chapter 4?

Short answer is I can't promise anything yet. Long answer is that I'd love to do it (especially since it's a short chapter, probably around 20 comic pages long) but it's my senior year! I've got lots to do inside and outside of class. I'm not gonna say "never" since I somehow seem to manage to cram a lot into my schedule without too much strife, but I don't want to make a promise I can't do good on. All I can say is that I'll keep you updated.

Thanks for reading my comics!

#soc comic adaptation

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munson-blurbs · 2 years ago

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: Eddie's guard is back up after overhearing people gossiping about a secret that only you would know about. When he lets his animosity take over, the damage may be too great to repair.

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, mentions of CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 3.7k

Chapter 4/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie is still fuming when he pulls into the music store’s parking lot. He’s opening today, and his hands tremble as he fumbles with the keys. All of those parents are going to know that he’s a failure of a father. The Munson reputation clung to him like a bloodsucking leech, regardless of his numerous attempts to shed it. He’s destined to be an outcast at best and a monster at worst.

Finally managing to unlock the door, Eddie flicks on the lights, blanketing the shop in a hazy glow. The silence is deafening, and he swears that his brain will implode if he doesn’t get some background noise. He walks to the section labeled ‘METAL’ as if on autopilot, grabbing Metallica’s Master of Puppets and shoving the cassette into the player. Ash insists that they play classic rock over the crummy little sound system; something about it being ‘palatable’ for the customers, but she’s not here to scold him.

He thinks back to when this album was released, towards the end of his third senior year. The good ol’ days, when I only worried about passing O’Donnell’s class and planning Hellfire campaigns, he thinks wryly. But, no; that isn’t quite true. He’d had to worry about the trailer getting repo’d, or whether he and Wayne could stretch their food stamp budget enough to feed two grown men. Concerns that his uncle had tried to hide from him until he no longer could.

“Ed, you’re eighteen now,” Wayne had said, just one month after Eddie’s birthday, “and I’m gonna need you to start payin’ some bills around here.”

At the time, Eddie thought he was just being a bastard. It wasn’t until a few days later when he’d spotted the envelope marked PAST DUE in bold, red letters that he realized it wasn’t a punishment, but a necessity.

He’d been selling for Rick ever since. Well, until now.

“Battery” fades out to “Master of Puppets,” and Eddie flips the CLOSED sign to read OPEN. He glances at the calluses on his hands and smiles sadly, thinking of all the hours he spent learning the chords in his room. After weeks of non-stop practicing—Hetfield’s solo was a bitch—he’d raced down to Gareth’s garage and played all eight minutes straight through. Watched as his friends’ jaws dropped in awe. Gave him a standing ovation. Told him he was a fucking rockstar.

“You’re a rockstar, all right,” Eddie sarcastically grumbles now, clanging a roll of pennies against the counter before dumping them into the till. “Getting ready to drop your new hit single: Do you want a receipt with that?”

His morning has been nothing short of monotonous: help the customer find what they want, ring them up and make small talk, and then organize (or, in his case, pretend to organize) the store when it’s not busy.

There’s too much down time for him to be left alone with his thoughts. As soon as he has a moment to himself, he’s ruminating on his regrets of the past. He turns up the music volume in a half-hearted attempt to drown them out, but they manage to worm their way into every nook and cranny of his brain.

Eight years ago, a twenty-two year old Eddie Munson left his podunk town of Hawkins, Indiana to pursue rock stardom. He’d driven to Chicago with only the pocket change he’d saved up and his guitar on his back. A big city for a man with even bigger dreams.

It didn’t take him long to realize that being Eddie Munson meant next to nothing in a place that was bursting with musicians desperate for the chance to become famous. He appreciated the anonymity at first; he could blend in without being chased by taunts of Freak or Loser. But after nearly a full year of auditions where he was just another guitarist who could carry a tune, he’d started to lose hope. Prepared to return to Hawkins with his tail between his legs, he’d stopped at the nearby bar for one last drink.

“We can’t go on without a lead singer and guitarist!”

A frantic voice captured his attention, drawing his gaze from the pint of beer in front of him.

“Well, Sam bailed. Again,” another man points out, tone heavy with irritation. “So either we go on without him, or we don’t go on at all.”

Eddie finds himself standing up and walking into a conversation where he was never invited. “I, um, play guitar. And sing?” He winces as it comes out like a question. “I can show you, if you want.” What was he doing? He couldn’t line up a gig to save his life, and now he’s offering to play for some band he doesn’t even know?

The two guys, both about his age, exchange a dubious look. “All right,” says one with shaggy dark hair. “Let’s hear what you got, Guitar Boy.” He hands him his own guitar, and Eddie adjusts the strap before diving headfirst into the chorus of the first song that comes to mind:

If you think I'll sit around as the world goes by You're thinkin' like a fool 'cause it's a case of do or die Out there is a fortune waitin' to be had You think I'll let it go you're mad You've got another thing comin'

The other guy cocks his head, a delighted smirk spreading across his face. “Judas Priest. Solid choice.” He paces a bit, twirling a drumstick between his fingers. You got a name, Guitar Boy?” he asks.

Eddie nods. “Eddie Munson.” He sticks out his hand, silently willing it to stop trembling, and shakes theirs.

“I’m Marcus,” the shaggy-haired man says. “This is Bryan. I play backup guitar; he’s on drums. Our bassist should be here soon; his name’s Pete.”

“And Sam was our lead guitarist and singer, but he’s a fucking asshole,” Bryan quips, and Eddie chortles at his brazen attitude. “Anyway, we mostly do covers…check out the setlist and see what you know.” He hands Eddie a crumpled piece of paper, filled with familiar songs and artists.

“I can do any of these,” Eddie says, a satisfied warmth filling his chest as he watches the guys grin even wider.

“Tell ya what,” Bryan says, plopping behind a drum set plastered with a logo reading Hard Knox. “If you don’t suck tonight, you can play with us permanently.”

“Yeah,” Marcus agrees. “We’re gonna be big, man. We just need someone to help us get there.”

“Let me run back to my place and grab my ax,” Eddie tells them, adrenaline propelling him to his apartment. This was it. This was the break he needed. Just as he was about to give up, God or fate or destiny or whoever was finally giving him a chance to prove himself.

The show went off without a hitch; Eddie’s guitar skills bringing a normally quiet audience to their feet. Bryan clapped him on the back as he looked at Pete and Marcus; the three nodding at each other. “Welcome to Hard Knox!” he announced.

“Sam leaving was the best thing to happen to us,” Pete laughs in agreement. A bartender in a tight skirt and fishnet stockings brings over a round of shots, and the four men clink glasses.

“Fuck Sam!” Eddie shouts before taking the drink. The tequila burns as it coats his throat, but he doesn’t dare reach for the lime. No, he has something to prove.

“Fuck Sam!” the rest of the band echoes enthusiastically. Their choral response reminds Eddie of the way Corroded Coffin used to be before he’d left: when he’d say something, Jeff, Gareth, and Danny would listen. He was born to be a leader.

Things started to fall into place. His one night endeavor with Hard Knox turned into a biweekly gig at the bar, which eventually turned into shows almost every night at various venues across the city. He’d even convinced the guys to play some original work of his, reminding them that cover bands don’t get record deals.

He had a steady income. A group of friends who appreciated him and his music. Beautiful women who eagerly threw themselves at him at the end of the show. And then it would repeat the following night in a new place. Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

Last night’s chaos has you all disheveled; it wasn’t until you got to work this morning that you realized you hadn’t even packed your lunch. You try to convince yourself that you can wait until you get home to eat, but about fifteen minutes before your break, your stomach lets out an embarrassingly loud growl.

“I’m gonna run to the deli and grab something,” you tell Will, throwing your jacket over your shoulders and digging out your car keys. “Want me to pick up anything for you?”

“Uh, Tylenol?” he grimaces, rubbing his temples. The kids had music class today, and the sounds of ten preschoolers singing off-key combined with their clashing tambourines served as a recipe for a pounding headache. “And maybe a bag of sour cream and onion chips?”

“You got it.” You shoot him a thumbs-up as you make your way to the parking lot as quickly as possible, determined to get your food before the lunch rush starts.

You manage to just beat out the crowd of hungry nine-to-fivers, grabbing a veggie wrap to-go. Crunching on a cucumber slice as you take a big bite, you start back towards your car, but the music store next door catches your eye.

A check of your watch confirms that you have a few minutes to peruse, maybe grab a copy of the new Toni Braxton cassette you’d been wanting. If there was ever a day to treat yourself to a little gift, it’s today. Your mind is foggy and your body feels like it’s dragging sandbags as you make your way over. You knew that taking care of an ailing relative would be physically demanding, but you weren’t prepared for the emotional toll it would take. Seeing your grandma helplessly laying on the bathroom floor scared drew all of the oxygen from your lungs, filling your body with worry. And just a few hours later, she was furiously swearing at you, claiming to hate you. She’s an ever-swinging pendulum, and you’re downright exhausted.

A small glob of hummus lands on your lower lip, and your tongue licks it off haphazardly as you push open the door to the music store. The jingle of the bell is meant to alert the employees that a customer has entered, but when you look around, there’s no one there to help you.

You walk towards the aisle labeled R&B, starting by thumbing through the “B” section–nothing. Perplexed, you make your way to the “T” section, still with no luck. Was Toni Braxton so popular amongst Hawkins residents that they’d bought out every copy of Secrets?

“You can’t eat in here,” a terse voice calls out. You’re so startled, you nearly drop your sandwich. A piece of tomato flies out of the tortilla when you jump, hitting the linoleum flooring, and the irritated person sighs. “Aaand this is why.”

You pick up the fallen vegetable and turn around to see Eddie Munson standing before you. “You scared me!” you say, but your body visibly relaxes. Twenty-four hours ago, you never would have guessed that he would have a calming effect on you. How quickly things can change, you muse silently. “Can you help me find the new Toni Braxton? The Secrets cassette?”

Eddie scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you follow simple instructions? No. Eating. In. The. Store.” He rolls his eyes. “Just because you teach preschoolers doesn’t mean you get to act like one.”

The smile that briefly danced across your lips slips into a frown. What the hell happened in the few hours since he’d dropped Harris off at school? Did you imagine that you two had gotten along?

“Are you okay?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I can put the wrap in my car, just give me a sec…”

He shakes his head. “No, actually, I’m not okay,” he sneers. “But I bet you knew that already.” He shifts his posture so he’s standing a bit taller. “Y’know, you have some fuckin’ nerve, coming in here after what you did.”

“Did I miss something?” Your voice gets smaller with the gnawing feeling of brewing confrontation acting as a brick on your chest. “I thought–”

“Tell me what you thought,” he interrupts, leaning on a box of tapes. “Wait, no; let me guess. You thought that because I rejected you, you could go around blabbing my personal business around the school.” He scrunches up his face, biting his lip as he looks at you. “Did I get it right?”

“Your personal business?”

“Mhm,” he answers pointedly, spinning a skull ring around his finger. “Is that not it? Was it because you were embarrassed that I heard your grandma say that she hates you? I don’t blame her, by the way.”

Your force your gaze to remain trained on him, staring into his brown eyes that have hardened with fury. “She doesn’t hate me,” you breathe out, “she just can’t remember me anymore. When she knew who I was, she loved me. A lot.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Eddie rolls his eyes. “That doesn’t take away from the fact that everyone and their goddamn dog knows about the CPS report.”

“What CPS report?” you ask, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach. “Is Harris okay?”

He takes one look at your puzzled expression and barks out a harsh, incredulous laugh. “Seriously? You can drop the innocent act.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about!” you snap, frustrated at his unwillingness to hear you out and your own lack of understanding. “All I know is that this morning, you didn’t hate me–or maybe just hated me a little less–and now you’re back to being the worst human being I’ve ever met.”

Eddie scratches at the shadow of a beard that’s formed on his jawline; an itchy reminder that he didn’t get to shave last night. “You should consider yourself lucky if I’m the worst person you’ve ever met. Tell me, what have I done? Thrown some insults your way?” He claps his palm to his chest exaggeratedly. “How ever did you survive?”

“Mock me and my teaching skills, pretend like you’re going to call when you knew damn well that you weren’t, call me a bitch, and your latest and greatest,” you counter, ticking off the instances on your fingers, “accuse me of something I didn’t do.”

He considers this for a moment, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “So you’re trying to tell me,” he starts, gritting his teeth, “that we were in the same wing of the same hospital at the same time, but you weren’t the one who told people about the CPS case they opened on me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” you hiss.

“Then how the fuck did Carol Perkins find out about it?!” His volume raises to a roar, and you wince at the sting it leaves echoing in your eardrums. “Because I fucking heard her talking about it with Steve Harrington! So if you, the person who was there, didn’t open your mouth and tell her, who did? The CPS fairy?”

“I don’t fucking know!” you shout, swallowing thickly in a meager attempt to bide time before the tears inevitably leak from your eyes. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t me.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his frizzy curls, smacking the other on top of the nearby box. “Just…just get out,” he mutters. “I can’t listen to any more of your bullshit.” He starts back towards a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY before turning back around, eyes narrowed.

“Y’know, I wouldn’t have hooked up with you that night if I knew that this is how you handle a one-night stand,” he says, pursing his lips as he steps closer to you. “And I never should’ve let Harris step foot in your classroom. I would drive him to a school in goddamn Timbuktu if it meant having you out of my life.” He pauses, scraping his teeth across his lower lip and exhaling a terse laugh. “It’s too bad I can’t forget about you like your grandma did.”

The words knock the wind out of your lungs. Your knees buckle slightly, and you have to steady yourself on the closest shelf. Tears blur your vision as your legs carry you out of the store; you feel yourself walking, but it’s like an external force has control of your body. The words fuck you sit on the tip of your tongue, or maybe you say them—it’s too hazy to tell. The world is covered in a shiny layer of cellophane; you can see everything, but you can’t touch.

You’re crying too hard to drive, so you sit behind the wheel, seatbelt clicked in place, letting out sobs that leave your whole body shuddering. It’s all too much, and though you logically know that Grandma didn’t want to forget you, his comment hit a raw nerve.

It wasn’t a straight path; Alzheimer’s never is. A few months ago, she could remember you in the morning but forgot you by the afternoon. She would call you by name at 9 AM but ask who you were at 2 PM. One day you were her granddaughter; the next, you were a total stranger. You thought it couldn’t hurt more than it already did, but the repeated reminders that she no longer recognizes you at all is a constant knife through the heart.

You’ll be late if you don’t start driving back to work now, so you turn the key in the ignition and adjust the gear shift to reverse. As you look up to glance in the rearview mirror, you catch sight of him. He’s dumbfounded, and you could laugh at how ridiculous it is that it took him seeing you bawling in your car to realize that he went too far this time.

Unable to stomach the thought of further confrontation, you take a deep breath and drive away, leaving him to mull over what just happened.

He’d assumed you’d left already when he’d walked outside for a smoke break, placing a cigarette between trembling fingers before he’d even left the store. He almost drops the lighter on his scuffed sneaker when he sees you hunched over, resting your arms on the wheel as your body heaves. He’s not sure how long he’s been staring when you lift your head, exposing tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Your gazes lock for just a millisecond, but it tells him everything he needs to know.

It wasn’t you.

When Eddie arrives at the school for pick-up, he scours the crowd of impatient parents for Carol. He finds her talking with another mom; no doubt spreading more gossip about him. Maybe he shouldn’t have pretended that their Satanic cult rumors didn’t bother him when they were back in high school. Maybe if they knew, they would understand that he’s just a goddamn person trying his best, just like everyone else.

“Hey,” he starts, pushing the fear from his voice and willing his strength to remain unwavering. “Who told you about the CPS stuff?”

Carol plasters an obviously fake smile on her face as she responds. “I don’t know what you mean,” she says simply. Her carefree tone pushes Eddie to his limit.

“Cut the bullshit,” Eddie growls, quickly losing his temper. “I heard you talking to Steve Harrington about it. So either you tell me now, or I’ll make sure your husband knows about that guy I saw you with at the Hideout a couple of months ago.”

Her face blanches, color draining from her cheeks. “It was Jason Carver,” she mumbles, biting her thumbnail. “His wife, Chrissy, is a nurse at the hospital and saw the report. She told him, and he’s been telling, well, everyone else.”

Eddie swears that steam is billowing out of his ears. Everything is coated in a red haze, and he finds himself unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fists. “Where is that sonofabitch? I’m gonna punch him in his smug little–”

“Mr. Munson?” you cut through his rant. His head snaps in your direction. You’ve fixed your makeup; if Eddie hadn’t seen you crying earlier, he would’ve been none the wiser. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. “Actually, I needed to tell you someth–”

“I think you’ve said enough today,” you say, voice calm but firm. “I just wanted to give this to you before Harris comes out.” You hand him a pink piece of paper. “It’s a transfer slip. Starting next week, Harris will be in Ms. Marion’s class. I didn’t tell him anything about it, so you can say whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.” That’s not quite true; the idea of Eddie feeding Harris lies about you makes your stomach curdle, but there’s only so much you can control.

Eddie’s, usually quick with a retort, is uncharacteristically quiet. “I, um, I thought…the secretary told me that all of the classes were full.” It’s a cop-out, but he can’t push himself to tell you what he knows now. Not when you’re already bruised.

“They made an exception because I was the one who requested it this time,” you explain, clenching your jaw. “Looks like you got your wish. You can forget about me now.”

He takes the paper and shoves it in his back pocket. The confession is on the tip of his tongue, an apology not far behind. Say it, he berates himself. Just fucking say it. You might be able to fix this if you just—

“I’ll go get Harris,” you tell him, breaking into his thoughts. “Good-bye, Mr. Munson.”

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infamous-if · 1 year ago

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There's been some discussion recently about MC that caught my attention because I agree. MC feels like a loser when you think about all of the other characters. When I play an MC who did nothing wrong to Seven it just feels like Seven is angry for no reason. Seven is allowed to act like a child while MC has to take it? Doesn't seem fair.

Everyone has something going for them and what about MC? No one likes them and everyone hates their guts. Aren't they supposed to be the main character? Why does everyone hate them? Why aren't they considered more talented? It just feels like MC is a doormat while Seven and the other ROs are these talented superstars.

I don't want this to come off any way but I feel like the story would be stronger if you made MC a bit meaner or at least made people acknowledge MC as a better singer.

I don't want to sound rude but I'm very much exhausted by this topic. I've probably explained this 5+ times but I'll try to break it down one last time just so people can understand what I'm trying to do.

First, to get it out of the way, we are only on Chapter 2. I just want to reiterate that. The story just started.

It just feels like MC is a doormat while Seven and the other ROs are these talented superstars.

Secondly, MC is a character I try to give as much customization to, both personality and appearance wise. There's a variety of ways you can approach everything, or I at least try to in a way that doesn't sacrifice what I want to write for the plot, but I think people are under the impression MC is 100% a blank slate character when it's not true.

MC is still dependent on the plot and I always strived for MC to have their own narrative arc. The same way the ROs have their own character arcs, MC will have their own, because they are a character in their own right and going through some that fundamentally changes their life. That means the MC from Chapter 1 will not be the MC at Chapter 20. They will be different. That's what a character arc is. Character development is expected. How can you expect a slew of ROs to grow and change and MC remaining stagnant? Doesn't make sense narratively and it seems unfair to MC.

The MC is not a completely blank slate, and that's where people are getting it confused. In the beginning, MC is going through such a change with BOTB, without their family, and on the heels of a band breakup that's still impacting them today. MC is a little down, maybe even depressed if that's how you read it, and they're getting pushed to be leader by their manager. They are not really okay right now. They have to be professional and put on a brave face for the sake of their band, who, if you paid attention to what Rowan said in Chapter 2, are all depending on this. This is what they worked for since high school. MC is not going to flip a damn table on Day 1 just because you want them to. MC can fight, if you choose, against UWB. That's not supposed to be a smart choice, but emotions get the best of all of us.

They are only just navigating a worldwide globally famous show with a cheating allegation hanging over their heads, and a manager who wants them to be leader when, up until now, they haven't been. They've just been friends making music and miraculously having a fanbase. Now they're really in it. They have been thrust head first into the industry in a way that is so big that MC has to go from singer playing with their friends to a leader of a band who may just become globally famous in a few months if they play their cards right.

A lot of their actions are influenced by the fact that their band almost broke up and it's a thing that hangs over their head. Their past influences them. That's...how people work.

Now, if we're at Chapter 20 and MC is still acting like a scared bunny who doesn't know what they're doing, then be my guest. Scream in my inbox, I'd understand. That would be terrible writing, but we're not. The tour just started.

I play an MC who did nothing wrong to Seven it just feels like Seven is angry for no reason. Seven is allowed to act like a child while MC has to take it? Doesn't seem fair.

MC doesn't have to take it lol. I've always given an option to be rude to Seven/try to put them in their place.

People think I favor Seven when that's not true. (Seven isn't even my favorite RO)(That title goes to August lol). Seven acts the way they act because they are not in a healthy headspace. Their actions are not meant to be understood, because they are not entirely justified. Seven has a lot of growing up to do, but I have never sat here and advertised Seven's emotions as correct. Everyone knows Seven is childish, everyone knows Seven is handling everything terribly. People in the story have mentioned it. Their abandonment issues GREATLY influence their characterization and actions. MC has abandonment issues as well, of course, but MC is not as emotionally unstable as Seven. That's canon. It is what it is. Seven has a whole subplot about it.

As do other ROs. The only difference is that they're not so open about their struggles. Seven just doesn't care. Their emotions guide them. They can't control it. That's who they are. I have also said that many times.

I don't know why you think Seven can get away with everything when 1) it's only been 2 chapters and 2) no one knows how anyone feels about Sev because it's in MC's POV. Seven goes through their own trial by fire. As every RO does......thats a narrative arc.

Seven was always going to be a plot point, whether they were an RO or not. They were always going to be MC's former best friend.

This one bothers me the most, mostly because I don't know where this came from. "No one likes them" Jenna and The Jewels does. Slow Crawl does. Their fans do. We haven't even properly met the other bands. Of course there will be bands who don't like MC: they're competitors. They're not friends. They don't know MC, why would they be biased towards them? Because they're the main character? They don't care about that?? It's how fiction works.

Maya is following the band around because of how much she admires MC.

Orion quit his job because MC's singing inspired him that much.

G listened to MC and saw something in them. Literally calls them the 'Chosen One'

Fans of the old band preferred MC over Seven. They liked the songs where MC sang solo. MC was better for their future over Seven. Hence why it was Seven getting demoted, not MC. I've said this. It's in the story.

I don't see how being the lead singer of a band on a global show at 26 makes anyone an actual loser but I digress.

Literally in Part 2 MC is acknowledged so maybe it'd be better if we waited? Say a good few chapters...?

If you wanted a story where MC is Queen level famous right out the gate and the #1 draft pick for BOTB and has no problems and better than everyone, then I'd advise you to look elsewhere. I don't like that. I like giving MC obstacles because conflict creates story. I like MC having to fight for their spot. It's more realistic, and this has never been a story of fame. It's been a story of their journey to fame.

That's their narrative arc. They grow into it.

You are allowed to hate/dislike Seven. I encourage it. I have given MC the option to hate Seven, because I'm aware that what Seven is doing is unfair. I am not punishing you for hating Seven. And this goes for all the ROs. It does not bother me if you dislike my characters. It means I haven't made them squeaky clean and have made them realistic enough to have people both dislike and like them, much like real life. I get it.

I've always advertised Infamous as a messy, angsty and dramatic story. I've used the term 'melodrama' for it often. I've always said the ROs--especially Seven--are flawed. Some more than others. I've said, verbatim, they are not wholly good people. I don't know why people act so shocked when they act some type of way. Like...I've always stayed true to what the story is. Half the dynamics aren't healthy right now...but that's the 'growing up part' of the story we haven't even gotten to yet?

If that doesn't interest you, then that's perfectly okay! If you don't like the narrative arc I have planned for MC, that's fine too! It just becomes a bit disheartening when people ignore the narrative.

I will try harder to write in a way that specifies my intentions. I always believe that if more than a handful of readers have the same complaint, then it's on the writer to fix it.

I hope my tone didn't come off rude, I'm just really really tired of this. I've had to deal with this since even before the demo dropped :) but your critiques are valid and everyone is always free to express themselves however they want. <3

#inbox #'MC is a loser' convo will always follow me I guess #MC will win a grammy and someone will be like: “they're kinda...loserish though? imagine winning a grammy at 30 and not 20 lol”#/j #ill add this to the faq and never talk about it again

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kitthepurplepotato · 7 months ago

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Side note: I’m not back from my hiatus I’m just posting this because I magically managed to finish this chapter before going berserk! Yay!

Chapter 20 - Can I show you how much I love you? (18+)

Summary: You just wanted to eat breakfast. So how did you end up in the shower with your freakishly handsome boyfriend, kissing each other senseless?! And the bed?! When did you get there? What’s going on?! WHAT IS THIS SHENANIGAN?!

Warnings: Swear words, 18+!!! Contains a sex scene. (It’s mostly smut, so please, if you are not okay with that or you are under 18, skip this chapter or well… you know... 😂 Thank you!)

Also, this chapter is 7K so get some water and something to snack on!

First Chapter Master List

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“Rise and shine, you drunkard.” You giggle to yourself as you look at your fluffy, absolutely adorable boyfriend who’s already frowning from the light coming in through the window.

“Hey, you wanted me to have fun, which I certainly did.” Izuku retorts sassily. You can’t help but gawk at him which only makes the green head laugh. “I’ll be fine after I take my pills. I’m not in more pain than usual, I swear.”

“Still, drinking this much in your condition…” You mutter, probably ruining the mood completely but fuck, you are so worried. It’s terrible to see such a hard working man so down, physically and mentally. You want him to be healthy and happy again, you want him to smile freely and sleep peacefully like he used to. You want to shield him from any harm, make sure nothing prolongs his current suffering but at the same time, you understand that’s he’s not a fragile human being who needs to be pampered the entire time, however, you still can’t help but want to do that.

“Sweets, I asked.” Izuku sighs. “The doctor said it’s fine. I’m fine. You are fine. Everything is fine.” He slowly strokes your cheeks until you finally relax. It takes a little bit of time, but eventually, you get there. “What do you want to do today, love?” Izuku smiles at you and it’s quite pathetic how your heart rate rises every time he’s sweet to you, even to this day. You’ve been together for long enough to get used to these touches but somehow, you just… can’t.

“Well, Katsuki, Ei, Shouto, Mirio and Tamaki went ‘monster hunting’ early in the morning. By that, I think they meant they are going to climb the big mountain. Denki is still KO so Hitoshi brought him back to their own cabin when Katsuki and the gang left for their adventures. Kyouka and Momo went down to the high street for a shopping spree. Rody went down with them to spend some time with his family. So once we clean up the bedding from the floor and… maybe we can just… chill today? In our own cabin? Try the onsen? Maybe?” Your cheeks are so flushed you are surprised Izuku haven’t commented on it yet.

“Hmm…” his cheeky hands find their way to your tummy under your shirt, slowly stroking your naked skin with a smug smirk on his face. What happened to shy Izuku?! Where is he?! Who’s this man?! “Sounds like a plan to me, Sweets.”

“If you keep doing that, we will never make it to our cabin.” You murmur into his ears with a shit-eating grin on your face. Izuku is out of the bed before you can say anything else, stuttering nonsense under his nose as he moves the so called “bedding” - a bunch of decorative pillows and massive blankets scattered on the floor - back to where they belong and he’s out of the door without a single word. You can’t help but giggle the whole way home.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” You snicker under your nose and Izuku gives you the sassiest side eye you’ve ever seen. It’s absolutely hilarious. “What?!” Oh no. You can’t stop giggling like an idiot. You really don’t need another tummy ache after yesterday’s shenanigans!

“I’m going to the onsen. Right now.” Izuku declares.

“No, not before breakfast.” You retort, standing with your hand on your hips like an angry mother.

“Oh yeah?” He comes closer, his smile bigger and bigger as you flush from his closeness. “Watch me.”

Ladies and gentleman, what happens now must be a fever dream… because Pro Hero Deku AKA Midoriya Izuku AKA Izu-Izu takes off his fucking shirt in the most attractive way possible and slowly sheds every single clothing off while you yell like a virgin with your eyes covered by your own hands.

“What the fuck, Izuku! Stop! Keep the boxers… oh my god, STOP THE VIOLENCE!” You laugh, cheekily peeking out between your fingers. “You also need to shower before going in! IZUKU LISTEN TO ME, YOU MENACE!”

“Only if you shower with me.” Izuku WINKS at you and you swear your soul just left your body for a second.

“Only if you eat breakfast.” You retort and by the surprised look on Izuku’s face, he didn’t think you’ll even consider saying yes to that question.

“You will… shower with me?” Izuku’s confidence is gone just like that, in a matter of milliseconds and you kinda feel the urge to just push him into the bathroom to prove how serious you were but you are way too hungry to even think properly right now so…

“After we had breakfast. I’m starving, Izu-Izu.”

“But… for real?”

“Well, we’ve been together for long enough to share a shower, haven’t we?” You answer with a massive blush on your face.

“I’ll re-heat the food Katsuki left for us.” Is all the answer you get before he trots away into the kitchen.

The mood… is heavy. There is just something in the air you can’t really describe, this weird tension, but not the bad kind… you don’t need to be a rocket scientist to know that today… something big will happen. It might just be the shower, seeing each other completely naked for the first time, but maybe it won’t stop there, maybe…

All the blood from your face goes somewhere else.

Calm down. Jesus Christ, woman, just calm down.

You were so deep in your thoughts you didn’t even realize the that the food is already heated up and ready to eat on the small table in the kitchen. The lovely scent of Katsuki’s food makes your tummy grumble; it might be weird to eat lunch for breakfast, but you literally can’t even be bothered to comment on it; in your household, it’s quite normal to eat whatever you guys want, whenever you want it, thanks to Izuku’s inhuman shift patterns. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, afternoon snack; food is food. That’s your household’s motto.

“The food is served, my princess!” Izuku’s adorable face appears in front of you; he bows low and makes that arm movement the butlers do in those dramas in the TV. The whole scene would be quite funny if he wouldn’t be wearing one single underwear and nothing else.

Let’s just say it’s hard to laugh when you are too focused on… well… the curves. The shapes. The godly body. Those massive fucking legs which could crush your head like a watermelon without even flinching…

“The food is indeed served.” You mutter under your nose, loudly by accident and Izuku starts to laugh, tears prickling his eyes as he holds his tummy, probably trying not to throw up once again.

“Oh… my… god… Sweets… I didn’t see that coming.”

“Me neither!” You yell as you pass by your stupidly attractive boyfriend, completely avoiding eye contact because there is no way you can look at him right now with how embarrassed you are. “Put on a fucking shirt!”

Izuku laughs some more but obliges at the end.

Thank fuck.

~•🥦•~

“If you changed your mind, that’s okay.” Izuku caresses your face as you two stand in the bathroom, still clothed. You are quite sure your face is the color of Eijirou’s hair right now. Your limbs are shaking like a leaf and you feel so much anxiety you could cry. It’s stupid, really; it’s not like it’s your first time to be naked in front of somebody, yet it really does feel like it is; Izuku is not like the others, he’ll actually look at you, look at your curves and the tiny little flaws and he’ll remember everything until the day he dies, cherish them like they are something special, because that’s who Midoriya Izuku is; the most caring, most loving partner the world has ever seen.

“I want this.” You declare confidently. “Yes.” You nod to yourself with a tiny pout on your face.

“Yes.” Izuku parrots, making the same, tiny pout then he gives you a smile that makes your insides melt right away. “You are so cute, Sweets. I love you so much.”

“Shut up and get naked!” You yell with a red face. He’s too much. This is too much. He’s too perfect. You can’t even take his teasing seriously with how much love you see in his eyes as he does it.

“Hey, you are not the only one freaking out here!” Izuku yelps awkwardly. “Turn around… please?”

His wavering voice make you look up to his face; he’s flushed and trembly as he slowly takes his shirt off, the movement full of hesitation. You really feel the urge to mention how only an hour ago, he wasn’t this shy about stripping in front of you, but you keep your thoughts to yourself.

“You can also change your mind, you know.” You finally turn around to give him some privacy.

“I’ve been waiting for this ages. There is no way in hell I’ll back out of this just because of my stupid anxiety.” Izuku grumbles, more to himself than to you. “You’ve seen me naked before. You’ve seen my scars. You know all my secrets. I have no reason for me to feel so ashamed of myself. It’s all in my head… I know I’m not ugly. That’s a lie, fuck… I know… I know you think I’m… okay. I know you won’t mind… me looking like this. Most and foremost, I know you love me for who I am and not for how I look like…” he mumbles and mumbles, not realizing you managed to get out of your clothes by the time he managed to get to his underwear. Your eyes are filled with tears from his words, you want to slap him in the face for hating himself like that and kiss him senseless out of pride for finally realizing it’s all in his head.

With that said…

“Izuku, look at me.” You appear behind your boyfriend, probably standing way too close for it to be appropriate, but you don’t care right now.

Izuku bumps right into you when he turns around; a tiny yelp leaves his mouth as your breasts bounce on his chest. “If I ever hear you calling yourself ugly I’ll pull out every single one of your leg hairs with a tweezer, one buy one, in the most painful way possible. Now turn around, finish what you are doing and see you in the shower.”

“That’s weirdly… evil.” Izuku snickers but by the look of it, you plan worked because he looks much less anxious now. You quickly go inside the shower cubicle to hide, not giving the man too much time to check you out… yet.

You can hear some rustling from outside then Izuku takes a few deep breaths and steps inside the now foggy shower and… you forget how to breathe.

Izuku looks gorgeous on a normal day, but this… is downright sinful. Izuku is stocky but not in the wrong way; you knew that already but with his underwear now gone, you can see how perfect the proportion is. He’s perfect. His shoulders are massive, but he has a nice curve to his body and there is a tiny trail of green hair leading towards his perfectly trimmed intimate area, also pine green just like his hair… then… that’s… a monster between his legs. Yup. You slowly look up and to the side to calm yourself down because that sight went straight into your core and this shower doesn’t feel that innocent anymore.

“Sweets, I… I’ll have problems down there if you keep looking this pretty, just giving you a heads up.” Izuku whines with a high pitched voice. By the time you wake up from your daze he already turned his back to you (you try your best not to stare at that gorgeous fucking ass, because hell, that thing looks like it was carved by a horny but extremely talented sculptor), probably ashamed of himself for feeling this way. You can’t help but speak up.

“If I would… have the same thing between my legs, I would have the same problem.” You admit sheepishly.

“Why are we so awkward about the stupidest things?” Izuku giggles. You want to pinch him. (His ass. You want to pinch his ass. That’s what you want to do you cheeky sod.)

“I don’t mind. I think it’s really… us, that we act this way. I wouldn’t have this any other way.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Say that again and I’ll forcefully kiss you.”

“Hm. That doesn’t sound that bad.”

“IZUKU!“ you yell into the small space as you hide your face in your palms like that helps anything. Your forehead ends up on Izuku’s back and he yelps helplessly; you don’t need to see his face to know he’s red all over because even the back of his neck is the color of a lobster.

“Okay, I’m done with this awkwardness.” Izuku takes a deep breath and the next moment, your back hits the wall. You can’t help, but whimper. “Sweets, you are the most perfect human being I’ve ever seen and I’ve been waiting for this moment for ages, so I’m sorry for… uhm… being a little bit too excited right now but I really want to wash your back if you… uhm…” Izuku stops in the middle of the sentence as he’s incapable to continue thanks to your mouth being on his.

You can’t help it. Just… can’t. Your body moved on its own.

Izuku is irresistible. His gorgeous muscles, the veins on his arms, the softness of his wet skin, topped up with his kind words and pretty freckles is just too much after all this time; you wanted to touch him for so long, you wanted to feel him for months which honestly, feels like decades at this point… it feels like the love is about to burst out of your chest but there are no words strong enough to satiate your soul, to make it clear enough for the other the understand the depth of your feelings and your body is not listening to you anymore; the desire has festered into something unstoppable, it clouded your mind completely until there were no thoughts there just Izuku himself, freckled cheeks and pine green hair, the broccoli…

Wait.

“If this is your way to make this less awkward… it works.” Izuku kisses you back with a newly found vehemence, scorching hot yet so careful, but you don’t kiss back anymore… you push the man away like he just burned you, because… “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“I forgot!”

“What?”

“How did I forget about it?” You whimper, completely ashamed of yourself. “I can’t believe I was so astonished by your… uhm… that I forgot to check it out! I’m the worst!”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, is the water too hot?” Izuku blinks at you, completely lost.

“The broccoli! I forgot about your broccoli! I can’t believe this!”

Izuku… bursts out laughing. He’s folded in half, his forehead basically cushioned by your boobs, shaking like a leaf from guffawing too hard.

“You pushed me away in the middle of a heavy, naked make-out session because you wanted to see my tattoo?” He looks into your eyes with an incredulous, but fond gaze.

“It’s important to me!” You mutter under your nose and Izuku doesn’t even answer you anymore; he just moves away and pushes his hip out, showing off his tiny, adorable broccoli tattoo sitting on his hipbone. You can’t stop your fingers from reaching out, caressing the colored skin with nothing but wonder in your eyes. “It’s so cute.”

Your boyfriend looks so much leaner than he usually does - you realize as you caress his strong hipbone, your fingers cheekily running over the dip by his waist.

Damn, you’ll never ever get over his thighs. Every time you look at them you remember his photoshoot with Mirko, the one that made Izuku a fashion icon, a genderless beauty because hell, Izuku is as manly as they get but… that man in Mirko’s costume kinda made you question your own sexuality.

Maybe you are just Izuku-sexual. He could be a man, a woman, someone between the two, hell, a fucking midget and you would still be attracted to him.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N.” Izuku sighs, right next to your ears. The fire burns even stronger inside you. The feeling only gets worse when his hand travels from your waist to the side of your breast, his thumb cheekily caressing the plump, soft skin. You make the mistake of looking down out of pure embarrassment just to be face to face with the proof of how much Izuku likes what he sees.

You can’t see it, but you can feel him staring at you; you look up and you are met with two heavily lidded eyes taking in the sight from the top of your head down to your feet, over and over. There is a new shine to them now, hot and scorching and you completely melt under that loving gaze; he takes that as a permission to take it further and starts peppering kisses all over your wet neck. You can’t help but move your hand into his soft, dripping curls; you clench your hand around the strands and Izuku makes a sinful sound which goes right into your center and the next few minutes are kinda a blur; things fall from the small shelving system inside the cubicle, someone slips, someone bites, someone moans, there is a constant pressure by your belly, something hard, but also soft to the touch, there are hands on your chest, on your back, on your thighs, everywhere, really.

Your whole body is on fire and so is his; the water is way too cold, but even that can not ruin the moment you two are having.

There are no thoughts in your head, just him. Izuku Midoriya. Midoriya Izuku. Calloused fingers and the feeling of scars under your hands, hard muscle and soft skin, bouncy curls, the scent of Izuku’s shower gel, which somehow decided to appear out of nowhere (he probably took it off the shelf while you were too busy kissing him senseless and actually decided to be useful and clean you up while touching you all over), there is so much going on yet your mind is completely empty.

This is what Izuku does to you on a daily basis. He comes close and you forget who you are.

The scent of Izuku’s shower gel only sends thrill down your spine; the knowledge that for the next few hours you’ll smell like him, taste like him just ignites your body once again, the flames even stronger than before, you can’t help but touch him, first just his arms, then the tattoo on his side, the back of his neck, his collarbone, then the soft hair right on top of his member. You didn’t touch him properly but a wanton moan leaves Izuku’s mouth right as your fingers start to caress the hair down there then suddenly, Izuku gently slaps your hand away from that area.

You don’t have time to freak out about “going too far”; the next moment your back hits the wall once again, your legs somehow make their way around the man’s extremely attractive waist then he slowly moves you lower and lower until you feel something soft but sturdy right between your folds, just like the last time you two enjoyed each other’s company in the hot tub.

“Tell me to stop.” Izuku whimpers right into your ears then ends his sentence by biting down on your ear. His whole body shakes from the restraint, his palms are aggressively gripping your side and the back of your neck; Izuku is doing his fucking best to not move his hips forward, to not let him feel the pleasure of the friction because once it’s done, there is no way back for him; there is a limit to his restraint, there is a limit to how much of this can Izuku take without losing his goddamn mind…

You tear Izuku’s walls down with one single movement, with just a tiny little friction and you both moan in tandem as the pleasure creates goosebumps on your skin, but maybe, it’s just the cold water coming from the shower head; it doesn’t matter though because your answer is loud and clear and that’s all it takes for Izuku to turn off the shower with one hand and manhandle you into a towel-burrito before he takes you to the bedroom like a princess, his teeth clattering from the cold.

You should feel shy and embarrassed. You should be freaking out when Izuku drops you down on the bed and towers over you with your boobs halfway out of your towel.

You don’t feel any of that. Neither is he.

It just feels… normal. Exciting.

“Finally…” Izuku giggles with excitement sparkling in his gorgeous eyes. He pulls the cover on top of you both and takes a few deep breaths to stop the shaking of his body; he waits a few minutes in silence, just staring at your chest and face, remembering it all while your bodies get warmer under the cover and the goosebumps are finally gone. You trace the old scars on his chest and his tummy, you give them all the love you possibly can without saying a single word. The silence isn’t awkward… this silence is… precious. It’s like there’s no need for words, no need for verbal communication because everything is written all over your faces, it’s in every single caress, every single kiss, every single sigh that leaves your mouths as you touch each other in new places. Your hand can’t get away from that perfectly trimmed bush on top of Izuku’s member so you find yourself there once again, just caressing the prickly skin, enjoying the way it feels under your fingertips.

The mood is calmer now, more mature but still full of those flames from before; it’s a weird, conflicting combination but it somehow works for you two. “Sweet pea.” Izuku whimpers while his free hand fondles your boob. You can’t help but moan into the air between you two as his thumps finds your bud and starts fiddling with it. “Can I show you how much I love you?” All you can do is nod weakly, your eyes full of tears. No one ever treated you like this, like you are a goddess who deserves to be worshipped, like every caress is a gift, like your body is something worth cherishing and you feel so loved already you kinda want to tell him to not even bother anymore, but you don’t have the heart to do that after looking into his half-lidded, excited eyes.

“Please.” You smile at your boyfriend happily. He bumps your foreheads together for a few seconds and smiles right back; this moment is special, it feels like there is a red string connecting you two together, the one that’s indestructible and infinite; the strings of faith are almost visible now as Izuku leans down to connect your chests, but maybe you are just too delirious and too aroused to be able to distinguish delusion from reality.

Izuku seals the deal with the hottest kiss known to mankind and you are halfway to your orgasm already and he haven’t even touched you yet.

“Plus Ultra!” Izuku gives you one last smile before he dives under the covers, right between your legs and you scream his name as you come in less than 3 minutes. Three. Fucking. Minutes.

He just… went in and… oh my god. Midoriya Izuku, goddamn Pro Hero Deku just… he’s… really talented with his tongue. Let’s just leave it at that.

You need 5 to 7 days to get over the fact that you just received the best oral you’ve ever had and it was from your favorite pro Hero who you are ridiculously in love with.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done.” You can feel Izuku’s smile on the inside of your thighs as he starts peppering kisses all over the area. It’s so loving and so careful, so slow yet so passionate… you can’t help but feel the arousal wake up inside you once again. “I really love your legs. I always wanted to kiss them. They are so soft and your thighs are so… ahh, I wanna sleep on them. They are better than the best memory foam pillow on the market. You also taste really nice. I think I’m becoming addicted.” Izuku goes back to the “treasure” and leaves tiny kisses all over your folds, teasing the most sensitive parts with his tongue to steal another taste. You can’t help but whimper; it’s extremely sensitive now but the touch is light enough to be pleasurable even in this state.

“I also love your tummy. Having a six pack is great, but I really enjoy soft and cute things.” Izuku adds with an obsessed tone which makes you blush like a virgin. “You are the softest and cutest of them all. I love you.” Izuku leaves a trail of kisses all over your tummy until he reaches your chest; he pops your bud into his mouth and does something with his tongue that makes you see stars; it almost feels like swirling water, soft and languid. It’s extremely hard to describe the feeling without comparing Izuku’s tongue to a tentacle, which, let’s be honest, would make this fanfiction so much dirtier than it really is.

“I’m not even going to try and give these two a justice with my words.” Is all Izuku says before he takes your other bud into his mouth to give it some love. If you think this can’t get more hot, you are wrong; Izuku starts to nibble your chest gently, sucking on the soft skin without leaving a mark, his eyes downright manic as he makes sure there isn’t a single millimeter left unloved.

Needless to say, you guys will need to change the sheets after this because well… you are soaking wet. Again.

You try your best to hide this information from your boyfriend for now because while Izuku is a man on a mission, you also have your own plans and knowing how much Izuku enjoys giving, he wouldn’t let you do anything today until your “situation” is “sorted.”

“Izu-Izu.” You rake your fingers through Izuku’s hair, clenching your fist on the top of his head just to hear him moan once again. And again. And again. Hell, Izuku has the most sinful moan, high pitched and weirdly feminine; he always tries to stop himself in the middle of the sound and the way his voice falters and breaks, then goes so high in the last one second… just makes your “situation” even worse. “Let me love you too, goddamnit!” You whine and moan at the same time. Izuku stops with his shenanigans for one second and that’s all you need to finally manage to roll him over and end up in his lap. You are not going to lie, it took all of your strength to be able to do that and you are panting a little bit but it was all worth it for the sight; he is blushing like crazy and he looks so lost now that he’s not in charge. You don’t even try to stop yourself from kissing him senseless, it’s physically impossible to do so.

“I feel like I’m going to explode.” You admit between two kisses. “Fucking hell, Izuku, are you even human? Is this another quirk of yours? Are you a lust demon? How can you do stuff like that with this adorable, innocent face? How?” You complain, while Izuku giggles. “Don’t fucking giggle, I’m serious!”

“I think I have a thing for being manhandled. I’m also about to explode.” He admits sheepishly with his hand wondering down to your bottom cheekily. You take a deep breath and move down to his belly, not letting him touch your private parts because it’s your turn now to love him endlessly and you want to do it without any distractions.

“Good. Suffer with me.” You retort cheekily and Izuku giggles once more. “You have so many freckles on your chest and tummy, I love it so much. I love your freckles, have I ever told you that?” You mumble as you kiss Izuku’s hard abs. His hands wander into your hair the same way yours did and you can kinda understand why is Izuku so hot and bothered when you do that to him.

“No, you didn’t.” Izuku chokes on air.

“Well, now you know.” You answer simply. “You have the body of a god, but I like your face the most. And your hair. And how some of your scars are softer to touch than your normal skin. I love the texture. Like this one.” Your hand moves up to Izuku’s pecks, caressing the massive scar on the side of his left breast. “You are so handsome but nothing is as pretty as your soul. Izuku, you look perfect from the outside but compared to you as a person, it’s fucking nothing. If I would have a quirk I would want to be able to go inside your soul… just so I can kiss it senseless.” You make no sense. You are aware of it. No need to comment on it. How the fuck are you supposed to stay coherent in this situation?! It doesn’t feel real. It’s too fucking good to be real.

A tiny sob cuts through the tension and you emerge from the covers to look into your boyfriend’s eyes. Of course, he’s crying. “You are such a crybaby.” You smile down at him with nothing but fondness. “My little crybaby. I love you so much.” You leave a tiny kiss on his mouth.

“No one… ever… made me feel like this.” Izuku admits between two sobs. “Like I’m the best thing in the whole world. No one ever managed to actually make me believe them, but you… you make it sound like it’s possible that I’m not… a failure. I feel so loved I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Enjoy it. You deserve it. You are the best thing, at least for me.” You leave tiny kisses on your boyfriend’s neck to divert his attention.

“And you are the best thing, for me.” He retorts with a sigh. “I want to build a shrine to you and pray for your well-being every day. I want to do this every day… I want to eat and drink YOU, I want to become YOU… I want us to become one and stay like that forever, because I’m the best thing only because you are next to me. Fuck, that doesn’t make any sense and it sounded so much cooler in my head…” Izuku mutters shyly, looking at the wall due to his embarrassment.

“Let’s become one, then. We can’t stay like that forever, but… I want… uhm…” you mumble with a red face as you move one of your hands under the covers to caress his painfully hard member with one finger. Izuku almost chokes on his saliva just from this one touch. It fills you with pride.

You absolutely enjoy the way Izuku is writhing under you, his face contorted by the pleasure while your hand moves on his member up and down, slow but steady. He doesn’t let you enjoy the game for too long; one second you are in charge then the next your back hits the soft bed once again and Izuku’s finger finds his way to his folds, slowly easing the first finger inside, followed by the second almost immediately.

“Sweets… you really like me this much?” Izuku moves his fingers around your folds to feel the wetness around the area. You can’t help but look away shyly, completely embarrassed from being so excited. Your plan failed. Goddamnit.

“Sorry…”

“What? No! Don’t be!” Izuku freaks out for a split second. “I’m just… really happy. I loose my confidence in bed really quickly but you make it so easy for me. Your whole body speaks to me, it tells me it’s okay, that this is good for you and I’m so thankful.” Izuku slowly eases the third finger in; a quiet whimper leaves your mouth as he starts scissoring inside to make this as easy for you as possible. “I’ll make sure to thank you by being the best partner now and forever. Sweets… Y/N… can I…”

“Fucks sake, Izu, yes. You can do whatever you want. I’m yours and you are mine. That’s all I need to know.”

“Okay.” Izuku nods, clearly spiraling a little bit. “Yeah, uhm, I’m gonna get the… stuff. Just stay here.”

“Damn, I was about to run out for some coffee.” You add jokingly, but Izuku is on a mission and he can’t understand sarcasm…

“I’ll get you some coffee from the kitchen, then!”

You start laughing like a maniac.

“Oh my god, I was joking, you silly. Hurry up!”

“Oh… I’m an idiot.” Izuku takes the box of condoms out of his backpack. You will make sure to ask him later about the fact that he had some with him… Cheeky little fuck.

You also try your best to not stare at that perfect butt. Damn, you are eating well today!

He has a few stretch marks on his back, but it’s only visible when you look really closely; which you do because you can’t help yourself, even though you literally just said that you won’t.

“Yeah, but you are my idiot. Now get back here and love me.” You continue to stare at that perfect peach, but Izuku turns around and you look away swiftly because the front is just as delicious as the back and you honestly don’t think you can take more of this right now. It’s quite comical how the color of his broccoli tattoo is the same as his hair down there; its a little bit sad how you’ll never be able to boast on your “Deku lovers” group chat about it. They would probably laugh in your face anyway, thinking you are a liar because there is no way the perfect pro hero Deku has a silly little broccoli tattoo.

“Okay.” Izuku grins with a flushed face and barges back into the bed, right into your arms.

He starts peppering kisses all over your neck, giggling happily like a schoolboy, then moves back to your face to leave another scorching hot kiss on your mouth while his hand slowly wonders down to your intimate areas to make sure you are ready for the “good stuff.”

It takes all your self-restraint to not come from the sight on top of you; Izuku’s hair is disheveled and he looks so fucking out of it that you would think he’s being touched himself, but your hands are in his hair and you feel no friction anywhere on your body which means he just… enjoys pleasing you so much it makes him look like he’s five seconds from coming. His fingers stop moving and he slowly retracts them, leaving you empty and sad for a split of a second but then he puts the condom package into his mouth and tears it open while keeping eye contact with you the whole time and you swear you see stars. Izuku is just too much. Too hot and too dirty but also so innocent and loving, it just doesn’t make sense, really… but…

“Are you ready, Sweets? Tell me if it hurts, okay? Promise me.” He looks at you worriedly and your heart just melts inside your chest and becomes nothing but a big lump of goo.

“I promise… OH MY GOD.” You almost yell as you feel the first few centimeters inside you. Izuku bites his lips once and takes a few deep breath, not moving, just waiting for you to get used to the sting, to the almost foreign sensation because damn, the man isn’t small and it has been ages you’ve been in this situation with anyone. “I’m fine, I’m fine, keep going, Izu.” You try to reassure him as best as you can. It starts to feel really good down there even though he’s not even halfway in.

He slowly moves further and the sting is back but it’s not as bad as it was before; it really quickly turns into an intoxicatingly amazing sensation that makes your whole body tremble and Izuku drops his face on your chest, his whole body shaking like a leaf.

“Relax or I’ll really embarrass myself. Please. You feel too good. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” He mutters into your breasts and if you wouldn’t be so aroused you would have laughed in his face for being so cute, but…

“You can move. Please. Move.” You stutter as a sudden wave of pleasure hits you just right. Izuku doesn’t say anything just moves back to his original position and slides out a bit and then back again and you are so happy everyone is out and about because you are quite sure the whole neighborhood just heard you moan. “Izu…”

“I think I’m going to cry again, but it’s happy tears.” Izuku admits sheepishly while he starts a slow but steady pace. His moans are quiet and his voice breaks quite frequently but there is something about it that makes you tremble in pleasure; probably the fact that you are the reason he sounds like that, deep but also squeaky, you are the reason his face is flushed from all the bliss… you feel so lucky to be able to experience this, to feel all this love, to be the reason for Izuku’s happy tears; you are so thankful for taking that big leap of faith by moving in with a stranger all those months ago.

“I love… love you. Izu. Izuku.” You stutter as Izuku’s pace picks up and you are absolutely incapable to think from this point; you both moan each other’s name in tandem as you chase your orgasms, Izuku clearly tries his best to keep his focus on you, to listen to where and how it feels the best and slowly but surely that pleasant feeling starts to build up with every thrust Izuku delivers to the right spot; Izuku’s arms start to tremble and it makes you stop for a second; this shaking doesn’t seem to be from the pleasure and Izuku looks a little bit stressed as you look into his eyes so you put your hand on his chest, silently asking for him to stop.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” Izuku starts to apologize but you are not having any of that.

“Lay down.” You command kindly. Izuku looks utterly confused for a second but he does it anyway. You don’t give him a single warning before you sit in his lap with your hands perched on his naked, beautifully sculpted chest and slowly ease yourself back down on his length. Izuku’s face contorts in utter pleasure, now that his arms are not hurting anymore and you pat yourself on the back inside your little mind palace for realizing something is wrong even while your mind was clouded by all the new sensations. “Good boy.” You caress Izuku’s muscly chest. Izuku moans loudly and moves his hip upwards, finding that special point once again, even in this new position.

Izuku looks ethereal from this point of view; his hair is splayed out on the white pillow, no curly strand the same as the other, his face is flushed and his eyes are sparkling like a rare gemstone, gaze full of love and lust and by that look on his face, he doesn’t mind this position either; every single movement makes his face scrunch up, his moans becoming hiccups and silent pleas to keep doing what you are doing, just like that, and it barely takes 10 more minutes for you two to feel the coil inside your tummy snap, Izuku doing the same a few more thrusts later.

You’ve never come this hard before. Your body shakes violently and you barely keep yourself up right while Izuku moves his hips up and down really slowly to prolong this amazing feeling, tears prickle your eyes from the pleasure, and once the feeling is gone you collapse on Izuku’s chest; you didn’t realize how much you strained your legs by doing this until you came down from your high, but when it it hit, you couldn’t help but whimper, this time, from the pain.

There are some other parts of your body that feel a tiny bit funny right after you two separate with a whimper, but honestly, you’ve seen that coming.

“I’ve never done this this way.” Izuku admits shyly.

“Never?” You look up at your boyfriend as you slowly move to his side; you need to lay down properly for a second. Everything is spinning.

“No. It was always… me doing everything. I want to do this again. And again. And again.”

“I’ll need to hit the gym then.” You giggle to yourself and seeing your boyfriend’s confused face, he doesn’t really understand the problem. “Izuku, this position… needs a lot of leg muscles. I don’t have any. I’m quite sure I pulled at least one muscle in both of my legs.”

“I’m more than happy to help you with that!” Izuku sits up excitedly. You give him a side eye. “Not like that, you silly! Actual training! And that, too, of course, but only if you want to do it again. I’m okay with anything until it’s you.”

You want to put this man on a plate and eat him. How can he be so sweet?!

“I love you, you weirdo.” You giggle into his hair then you leave a tiny kiss on his neck as a silent thank you.

“I love you too, Sweets. Let’s have a few minutes of rest then let’s go to the onsen.”

“Oh my god, the onsen sounds magical right now.” You sigh, utterly pleased. “Izu?”

“Hm?”

“Are you happy?”

“I’m the happiest fucking freak in the whole wide world, Sweets.” He smiles. “Are you happy?”

“I think I’m high on happiness.” You pant, exhausted.

“Good. Me too.”

… to be continued!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- I can’t believe this finally happened! Honestly, I’m not a big fan of writing these kind of things but even I was excited about this to finally happen because the tension was absolutely ridiculous! 😂 Not gonna lie, I have many other ideas about what this version of Izuku likes but I probably won’t be able to use them as they would be too dirty for this otherwise innocent story. 😂 I love these two so much, they are so perfect for each other!

- I hope you guys are okay. Sorry for not responding to your lovely comments, I read them all and I send you all hugs! I hope I will see you soon but to be honest with you, I don’t think it will be sooner than 4 weeks, maybe more if shit goes south in my life.

- There will be changes to my uploads when I come back, I’ll leave a note for you guys once we get to it. I might need you to answer some questions too, because I have no idea what to do 😂

- Random personal ramble: so funny story about my recent life; I went home to my home country to see my mom and I told her about how much I want an airfryer but I don’t really have space for it nor money to spare. I didn’t know she actually owns one so I got really excited when I saw it! A day after I came back to England there was an Amazon order on my doorstep that I didn’t order. Guys, my mom went on Amazon and bought me an airfryer. I’ve been making cakes and baked apples every day since. Get an air fryer if you can. It’s amazing. Thank you for listening. 😂

Here’s a quick, delish recipe for you: get some apples, cut them in half, get rid of the stem, put a bunch of Nutella in it then sprinkle cinnamon on top (or pour half of the bottle on it like I do. Lol). Bake it for 40 mins on 160C. You are welcome. (You can also use dark chocolate instead of Nutella if you wanna make it healthier. You can also hide a walnut inside. Omnomnom.

- I’ll shut up now. Tell me your thoughts!

TL: @garfieldthomas @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @katsuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @themultifandomgirl @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover @yao-ai @happydragonfrog @eeerreehhh @vinivave @alyss-eiz @sleepisfortheweakpooh

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #pro hero deku x you #pro hero deku x reader #deku x fem!reader #deku x y/n #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #izuku x y/n

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cupofmiko · 2 years ago

Text

LOVELY TO BE HERE (WITH YOU) - midoriya izuku x f!reader

with midoriya izuku, some things have always been easy. other things, however, have not.

genre: a strangers to lovers to exes to lovers au, pro hero au | angst, fluff

warnings: aged up characters (you and Izuku go through your 20s during this fic), a right person wrong time fic, hurt/comfort, happy ending, Izuku is taller than you, insecurity, talks of a boss/employee relationship (nothing happens during that time), making out, some smut (fem!recieving oral, mating press, slight dom!Izuku?? some dumbification… not actually sure I’m just putting it in the warning just in case, use of “pretty girl” and “good girl”), mentions of an outside natural disaster, arguments, you and Izuku gets a little Mean during the argument, Bakugou and Kirishima are your Helpful Friends and Good Bosses, some recreational alcohol consumption at a party

word count: 22k

a/n: vaguely inspired by that tiktok trend with the “ceilings” by lizzy mcalpine audio… if you know you know. this is so behind the trend lol it ended up so much longer than i thought it would be so a lot of this hasn’t been thoroughly read through i am sorry lol

You are twenty-two years old when you get the email - an offer letter that confirms your acceptance for an entry level office assistant position at Deku’s agency. And for someone like you who is in the final year of university and has been looking for a job to get a head start on your career, this is a very exciting opportunity.

Not only is it a foot in the door for the hero industry, a very popular and competitive industry for any young college student, but it is with Deku. The hero from UA, the one who has been destined for the top since he was a teenager.

According to the hiring manager, Deku is officially returning back to Japan after spending his first few years post-UA abroad in different countries. Different contract work with hero agencies worldwide. But now, with several years of experience under his belt, Deku has decided to return back home and start up his own agency.

It’s intended to start as a small agency, the hiring manager had explained to you, a small but multi-talented team who can take on different responsibilities. And you, young and enthusiastic, played up your retail experience and the tutoring jobs you took on during those earlier college years.

Clearly, you talked yourself up well because now you stand in front of Deku’s agency - a moderately sized building whose simplicity is reflected in the warm earth tones inside. Something in your gut tells you that this is the first page of a brand new chapter.

The beginning of your first day is slow and typical of any first day experience. You remeet the hiring manager who introduces you to your boss and your responsibilities, which will mainly involve managing the front desk and answering the phone and making appointments for Deku. It is a little overwhelming, but you mask that incoming anxiety with a determination to do well.

Your afternoon is spent filling out information for email accounts, taxes, and pay. The phone rings a few times, and your boss lets you know what to do based on the different phone calls. For a top hero agency, it’s surprisingly normal.

So normal, that you almost forget who you’re working for until he walks through the front door of the agency.

You look up and immediately feel your breath catch in your throat because holy fuck, it’s Deku walking towards you. It’s very strange to see the boy you’ve only watched through a laptop screen stand opposite of you. He’s much taller than you thought. His suit is more detailed, his hair more fluffy, his muscles more defined in person. It’s strange, seeing someone the same age as you hold so much power and confidence in a single stance. But his gaze is open, kind, and curious when he looks at you.

“Hi there!” he greets cheerfully, approaching your desk. “You must be the new office assistant! I heard you were starting today - welcome!! It’s nice to meet you!! Are you adjusting well?”

You blink, feeling like your brain is lagging behind to process the fact that pro hero Deku is even talking to you. Then, you realize that he has asked you a question. You close your mouth (one that you hadn’t even realized you opened) and try to string together a sentence. “O-oh, thank you! And I’m doing well… thank you, Deku.” You test out the hero name. It sounds so strange saying it out loud.

Deku laughs, a shy almost unexpected sound that makes something flutter in your chest. “I’m glad to hear that! And call me Midoriya. I’m glad to have you on the team!” His eyes flicker down, taking in the new lanyard you’ve received - it was part of your welcome package that is meant to hold your employee ID. “I can see you’ve already decorated your lanyard! I like your pin.”

Now you’re surprised for a multitude of reasons. Not only did he speak words to you, he’s actually continuing that conversation by noticing something you never expected a boss to notice. And he’s being sweet, warm, and welcoming.

You look down at your lanyard, bewildered as if you’ve never been a lanyard before, and see the pin you’ve haphazardly attached to the fabric. Glimmering on the metal is a character from your favorite movie - Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle. “Oh, t-thank you!” you manage, feeling warm, partly with embarrassment of having to explain a private interest, and partly because Deku actually looks genuinely curious in what you’re talking about. “He’s from this movie I really like. Howl’s Moving Castle?”

Deku ponders for a second. “Oh! Studio Ghibli right? I’ve never seen that one, but my friends introduced me to Spirited Away and I really enjoyed that one!”

“That’s a good one too,” you reply, losing enough nerves to actually feel your lips curve up into a small smile. Deku traces the movement quickly with his eyes. “That one and Howl’s Moving Castle are probably some of my favorites.”

He nods approvingly. “I’ll have to ask my friend to show that one to me someday.” He gets distracted momentarily by his phone, picking it up and frowning. “Ah, sorry, I have a meeting to get to,” he explains, putting the phone back down. “But it was really nice meeting you.”

Your smile grows a little, your head bowing a little to see him off. “It was nice meeting you too. Midoriya.”

He mirrors your smile, likely proud that you’re calling him Midoriya, before he walks towards the main office floor.

The phone rings before your gaze can linger for too long.

A full month goes by before you accept it. You have a crush on pro hero Deku.

To be fair, it’s hard not to have a crush on Midoriya. He’s just so open and sweet, thoughtful and considerate - a little shy, but reassuring enough to make you feel safe with just one smile.

Honestly? It’s a little infuriating. After all, Midoriya is… well, he’s pro hero Deku!! He’ll help old grandmothers cross the street and save a truck from falling off a bridge and then tackle a villain the size of a building all within the same day. He carries so much greatness, so much power, yet so many expectations on just one pair of shoulders. You see it on the news, in the meetings you have to schedule for him. Everyone wants a piece of him.

It’s harder now since he’s just starting up as a pro hero in Japan. There are things he must do, cases he must solve, and people he needs to save in order to climb that ladder and establish himself.

But still, despite himself, he stops by your desk every day. Either at the beginning of your shift or towards the end. He’s always had a busy day - you can tell as much because you help manage some of his appointments. Yet he never shows his exhaustion. He comes by, same bright smile, always asking about your day and chipping away at your apprehension.

It gets to the point where you’re comfortable enough finally sharing some interests with Deku rather than brush it off every time he tries to ask. You talk about the movies you like, the music you listen to, the dinner you cooked last night. Deku (Midoriya, you remind yourself time and time again) is always attentive.

So, again, how could you not have a crush on Midoriya?

And, to be fair, he doesn’t do much to quell that crush or fan the growing flames of affection you have for him. When he finds out that you really like that boba place thirty minutes away from the office, he starts bringing you a cup once a week. You try not to overthink the fact that he knows your exact boba order- down to the percentage of sugar you prefer. Or when he finds out you really like that Thai restaurant around the corner and starts bringing you your favorite when he knows you forgot to pack a lunch.

It’s sweet. Midoriya is sweet, dangerously so. Considering you often only see him drop off food and drinks for you, it makes you wonder if… perhaps, he feels the same way.

But a small, reasonable voice in your mind reminds you of a very important consideration: Deku was your boss. More than that, he was your boss’ boss. The big boss, if you will. There’s no way he could feel the same way, just from a moral standpoint. And even if you weren’t overthinking anything - a boss dating his employee? The scandals just write themselves.

It’s another two months before you learn to leave your feelings on the backburner and write it off as nothing more than a puppy dog crush. Lots of people probably have a crush on Midoriya, you think bitterly, it doesn’t make you special and it definitely doesn’t warrant a crush back.

Besides, you continue to think, Midoriya could have anyone he wanted in the country. In the world. There’s no way he’d settle with a measly secretary. He’s just doing these things because he’s a genuinely nice person - and it’s just convenient for him to make sure you’re eating proper meals and drinking proper (as proper as boba can be you suppose) drinks.

It is officially four months that you’ve been working for Deku’s agency when you stay late for the first time. You’ve started taking on more responsibilities that take the form of helping organize paperwork and writing up data analytical reports for Deku and his small group of sidekicks.

On the one hand, more work is great because it means your boss trusts you enough to handle important tasks. But on the other hand, it is stressful. Your perfectionist tendencies are not lost on you as you spend some extra time ensuring that a report is thoroughly. That means that by the time you are done, it is considerably later than your normal departure time.

Your boss and other colleagues must have left during your autopilot drive to get everything done because the office is mostly empty by the time your brain catches up to the outside world. The exceptions are the janitor taking out the trash and the night shift sidekicks who are either getting ready for a nighttime patrol or are currently sitting at their desks. They say their goodbyes as you pack up to leave for the night, coat on and everything, before you head towards the building entrance.

Only to find that it is pouring rain outside.

You stop short, taking in the rain pittering and pattering onto the sidewalk and the roar of rainfall filling your ears. Normally, you don’t mind rain. But the fall is too heavy to walk through unscathed - a fate that looks inevitable for you considering you forgot your umbrella.

You’re in the middle of wringing your hands together, debating whether or not you should just go for it, before you feel the agency doors open behind you. Then, a familiar voice calling your name.

It’s Midoriya, looking bewildered at the sight of you. “What are you still doing here?”

You blink back, equally as surprised. Last you had checked, Midoriya should have been long gone by now. “What are you doing here?” you quip back.

“Well, I, uh, had to approve some of the reports my sidekicks wrote up before sending them to the police,” he explains, scratching at his hair. “But late nights are normal for me. I’ve never seen you work late before.”

His inquisitive look leaves you warm with embarrassment. “I-I just wanted to make sure those data analytical reports were perfect before sending them for approval.”

Midoriya ponders you for a moment, but he ends up smiling. “I appreciate you working so hard. I hope you’re planning to go home. Or at least planning to eat something.”

You smile back sheepishly. “Guilty. I’m gonna go home- I have groceries that need to be cooked.”

“Can I walk you to the station?” he offers, flashing his All Might umbrella towards you.

You laugh. “Cute umbrella. And sure, that would be nice Midoriya.”

He watches you for a moment. “Do you have an umbrella?”

“Oh!” you laugh again nervously. “No, I forgot mine at home. But it’s okay.”

Midoriya looks momentarily troubled at your predicament, but he smiles easily enough. “It’s okay! Here. We’ll share mine.” He opens up the umbrella and holds it over both of you.

You still and immediately turn warm at the thought of sharing an umbrella with Midoriya. It seems too intimate of a situation to be in, all things considered. “O-Oh, don’t worry about me.”

“How could I not?” he retorts, surprising you by wrapping an arm around your shoulder to bring you close. Though hesitate, your arms encircle his midriff. For the umbrella, you tell yourself, as you gaze up at Midoriya. He’s staring back down at you, gaze unreadable.

A moment of doubt fills you. Was this too much? Self-conscious, you loosen your grip around him. But Midoriya tightens his hold, making you stop.

“You okay?” he asks, voice soft.

You manage to nod your head. Totally okay, more than okay. “Peachy,” you say, allowing him to lead you down the sidewalk towards the station. All the while, you do your best to ignore how romantic the gesture looks to people on the outside.

You reach the station within a ten minute walk, all while bunched up together like any other normal couple. Midoriya insists on making sure you’re underneath a solid roof before removing the umbrella. Untangling yourself from Midoriya feels like the real world has resettled itself on your shoulders.

So you take a breath, readjusting your backpack. “Thank you for walking me, boss.”

He grins sheepishly. “No worries. I just have to make sure my employee gets home safe.”

He’s trying to play along, but it feels a little like this cold wave of reality has just washed over you. You just try to manage with your best smile. “And some people have the nerve to say you’d be a terrifying boss.”

Midoriya laughs. “You’re right. They should be saying I’m downright jolly.”

That makes you laugh. “What are you, Santa Claus??”

Another short round of laughter, before you pull yourself together enough to stop and look at him. He’s looking back at you, that crinkle of laughter in his eyes - which doesn’t mean anything. It means nothing at all.

You look away first, fidgeting with the straps of your backpack. “I should go. Thanks again Midoriya.”

You still don’t look at him as he replies. “You’re welcome,” he says.

Without another word, you walk away.

Your ten month anniversary at Deku’s agency is around Christmas time, where the nearby shopping districts get taken over by holiday lights and festive trees of red and green. The weather gets colder, the days get shorter, and the work gets harder. Especially when most of your assignments consist of summarizing the events of the year. There are a lot of days where you are just trying to gather information.

It’s busy enough that you almost forget about the agency holiday party, scheduled just two days before Christmas. You only remember because your marketing specialist friend (Karly) volunteers you to help with decorations.

For The Most Wonderful Time of Year, it is rather stressful to make orders for the tree, the wreaths, the lights, and the Santa’s that are scattered throughout the office.

The day comes fast. Two days before Christmas, Deku’s agency is filled with laughter and chatter. Per the rules of the night, everyone is dawning their ugliest Christmas sweater and are currently partaking in the borderline alarming amount of alcohol that was brought. After all, the white elephant gifts have been exchanged, the toasts have been made - all that’s left to do is drink.

You’re no exception, as you have now found your way outside onto the balcony with a cocktail in your hand and a warmth in your cheeks. Being outside is nice considering how hot your body feels right now. You close your eyes as a nice breeze brushes against you.

That is how Midoriya finds you. “There you are!” he exclaims, closing the sliding door behind him as he steps forward to join you. “Been looking for you.”

You turn around to face him, eyes wide. He was… looking for you? “What for? Did you need something?”

He stops next to you. “No, no, nothing serious. I just wanted to say you did a good job with the party.” He grins, cheeks also a little rosy from drinking. “Everyone seems to be having a good time!”

You smile. “I’m glad. I would never have thought planning a party would be so stressful. But a part of me is glad I got to be in charge of it.” You glance at him, feeling unusually bold. It must be the alcohol. “Otherwise I would never get to see the great Deku in his Christmas sweater.”

True to your words, Midoriya is dawning an All Might Christmas sweater - the brightest shades of blue, yellow, and red that you’ve ever seen. It’s cute. Horrifyingly so.

Midoriya does a little pose that makes you laugh. “I mean, you could have seen this anytime. You just needed to ask.”

The remark makes you still because was he implying he wanted to discuss his interests with you?

The internal struggle leaves you a little winded, unsure how to respond to such a statement. “Is… is that so?” you reply softly. “B-But,” you stammer awkwardly. “I’m sure there are other people you could discuss your All Might collection with?”

Midoriya hums softly, resuming his position next to you against the balcony. “Like who?”

You shrug, trying to play it off casually. “I don’t know. Your girlfriend?”

He laughs gently at that. “Who is this girlfriend you speak of? She doesn’t exist here.”

Despite his behavior, it is a little surprising hearing that Deku doesn’t have a girlfriend. Especially considering that he looks the way he does and has literally been called Japan’s Sweetheart on numerous occasions.

You don’t feel too nervous at being called out like this. It definitely has to be because of the alcohol. “W-Well, I just figured. Someone who looks the way you do should have no problem finding someone.”

“Your confidence in me might be misplaced,” Midoriya returns. He turns to you. “Would you believe me if I told you that I have relationship problems too?”

“You? Having problems with women?” you joke. “Enlighten me then.”

He takes in a small breath. “Well,” he starts shyly. “Hypothetically, there’s someone that I’m interested in. Someone who I would think is smart, funny… and pretty.” There’s a weight in his words that settles heavily on your heart. “But… the problem, scientifically speaking, is that us being together would be inappropriate. I would never want this person to think I’m taking advantage of my position to manipulate them. And even if we were able to go out, I don’t want this person to be viewed negatively. I don’t want people to think she has been doing well or that she even got a job because of my personal feelings. After all…” he gaze drops to your lips for a moment. Your stomach clenches a little. “This person is a really hard worker. And I would never want to take that away from them.”

You wet your lips. “That does sound like a predicament, Mr. Deku.”

He smiles, albeit a little sadly. “I suppose…” he starts. “That if this situation was real, it could definitely be seen like that.”

You nod. “Right. Hypotheticals.” You take in a breath. “I guess you and I aren’t so different.”

He glances at you. “Relationship problems?”

You shrug. “Hypothetically, I could have problems.”

Midoriya laughs, playing along. “Right. Of course.”

“Let’s just say,” you start slowly. The alcohol buzz is starting to wear off. But you’re already neck-deep into this interaction and it’s too late to back off. “There’s this guy. He makes me laugh, looks out for me, and has never made me feel insecure. He’s patient, smart, and thoughtful - someone that I really admire, and someone I like a lot. The problem, hypothetically, would be that there’s a gap between us. Not an age gap or anything crazy but more just… the kind of gap where us dating would make him look bad. And he’s a good guy, who doesn’t deserve that kind of speculation.”

You dare to spare a glance at Midoriya for the first time since you started talking. He’s looking at you like it’s his first time seeing you - eyes wide and lips parted. But there’s some uncertainty in his eyes. Like he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions on who you’re talking about. You understand that. After all, his own situation could describe anyone.

But he turns towards you with eyes open and vulnerable. And you are rooted to your spot, helpless to do nothing but watch him watch you. You watch as he steps closer, feel as he reaches out to grab at the bottom hem of your Christmas sweater and thumbs at the material. As if he is giving you permission to turn away.

When you don’t, his fingers snake upwards to touch your hips. “It seems,” he breathes out softly. “We’re both a little stupid, aren’t we?”

You exhale as his hands settle. You feel warm with something decidedly non-alcoholic. “So stupid…” You want to just close your eyes, lose yourself in Midoriya as you’ve wanted to do for the past few months.

But.

Your hands find him, your fingers curling around his wrist. It takes a lot of (obvious) effort to pull him away. “Wait,” you whisper. “W-We just talked about how this isn’t right. And I don’t want you getting in trouble for this.”

His eyes search yours, but he squeezes your waist once before relinquishing the grip. “You’re right,” he returns, smiling a little. “There’s a lot of alcohol at this party. Makes me do things I shouldn’t. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “You don’t need to say sorry. Only if you don’t mean it and you don’t really like me.”

His eyes have not left your face. “I do mean it. I do like you, a lot. I’m just sorry that it has to be like this. If things were different…”

“I know,” you whisper. “But I… care about you. And I don’t want people to think you’re the kind of guy who’ll date an employee. Especially since you’re back and trying to establish yourself as a pro-hero here.”

Midoriya laughs, but it’s not meant to be a humorous noise. He reaches out, thumbing your cheek one last time as if to commit the gesture to memory before he pulls away. “I don’t want us to pretend like this conversation never happened, but I hope that we can still be… friends.”

Despite the unexpected turn of events (at a Christmas party of all places), you warm slightly at all how well he’s taking it. Not that you expected him to take it badly. And that, above all, he considers you a friend. “Of course,” you reply. “That’s what I want too.”

The pair of you stare for another long moment before someone is sliding open the glass door of the agency that leads to the balcony. It’s Karly, calling out your name.

You and Izuku look away, the moment gone. “I’m out here, Karly.”

Said marketing specialist appears from the shadows, cheeks bright red from rose much like everyone else. But she stops short when she notices the two of you. “Oh! I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“No,” Midoriya cuts in quickly. He’s not looking at either of you. “We’ve finished our discussion.”

Deciding to leave him alone, you nod towards Karly. “Well, some people are asking about the cake…”

“Oh!” you exclaim. “That’s right. I know where it is.” You turn towards Deku. “Will you be okay?”

You mean it in two different ways. Deku looks at you like he knows what you mean. “Yes, I’ll be fine.”

You make your way back into the party, refusing to think about what happens next.

What happens is a quiet next few months. Midoriya becomes busy with joint patrols, an onslaught of photoshoots, and general paperwork. He still comes by your desk when he happens to be around when you are around, but the interactions are safe and surface level. It is a warped version of what you and Midoriya would call friendly conversations.

While you miss the deeper conversations, you’re also guilty of not bringing up anything that could bring you back to that night. The fear of uncertainty gnaws at you, afraid of what could happen if you were to cross that threshold with Midoriya.

Like you, Midoriya is also good at maintaining that friendly facade. He thanks you for your hard work on your one-year anniversary, allowing your boss to take you out for dinner. He signs a company congratulations card when you graduate from university and officially become a working adult.

And you’re thankful that he’s willing to… move on, you suppose? Perhaps avoid is a better word. It’s hard to smile and laugh with Midoriya when you’ve spent the better part of your employment at Deku’s agency wanting more.

Despite those things, that isn’t the reason why you’re here now. “Here” being the corner coffee shop on a random Saturday, laptop open with a whole listing of hiring hero agencies displayed. Some of the reason is that awkward limbo with Deku, yes, but most of it has to do with the desire for a full-time job. Working part-time at Deku’s agency had been more of a necessity than a want, considering you had to work around a full-time student schedule.

But with graduation under your belt, full-time has become an option. While the hiring manager at the agency has been open to the conversation of offering you that full-time position, this feels like a rare moment of opportunity to branch out.

Besides, you think absently, there are a lot of good agencies hiring.

Quietly, you apply to a few of them, wondering if your experience at Deku’s agency and all the hats you had to wear as a result of working at essentially an agency start-up could impress some of these bigger agencies.

As it turns out, it does. Because over the next month, you garner the attention of Riot Ground. Again, quietly, you interview a few times before they offer you a position - one that will include working at a cubicle rather than a front desk and definitely involves a higher level of responsibility with a higher pay that you would be dumb to reject.

Your direct boss is supportive of the decision, understanding that this type of industry exploration is what you want for the next chapter of your career. It’s a chance, she says, you need to take. Additionally, she accepts your two week notice.

Telling Midoriya had been something you’ve wanted to avoid since Riot Ground offered you the position. In fact, it’s very possible that he already knows what is going on. It’s no secret that the Riot Ground agency and Deku agency are close - the leading heroes have known each other since high school.

But you decide to just assume that Midoriya doesn’t know what’s going on as you knock on Deku’s office door, taking in a breath when he tells you to come in. He’s finishing up some paperwork as you open the door, definitely looking appalled by your appearance. You hardly ever visit him, especially not since the Christmas party.

“Hey,” he breathes, closing his laptop. “Is everything okay?”

You smile a little, trying to stay professional. “Yes! Everything is good. I just thought I should let you know something that’s coming up.”

He frowns, but nods slowly. “Okay,” he says, a little confused. “What’s up?”

“Well,” you start. “As you know, since I graduated I’ve been thinking about getting into a full-time position. I don’t know any kind of end goal for myself, but I want the opportunity to grow my experience however. And wherever. So… I just thought that I should let you know that Riot Ground offered me a position. And I accepted. I start in a month, but I already submitted my two weeks.”

Midoriya is quiet for a moment, processing the ultimate conclusion to your words. Then, he laughs a little. Softly. “Kacchan… I mean, Bakugou told me that they had just hired someone from my agency. When he spoke about the new hire’s interview, I could tell he was impressed and excited to have that kind of person on his team. I just had a feeling that it was you.” He stands up, rounding the desk to lean against the front. “I’m really happy for you.”

You smile, relieved. Although you should have known to expect nothing less from Deku. “Thank you, Midoriya.”

But he does smile back, sighing a little. “I will say that I’m going to miss having you around. Getting to talk to you and see you at the end of a hard day always made things easier for me.”

Your heart picks up a little. You hadn’t expected him to use that kind of line on you. “I-I mean,” you stammer. “It’s not like I’m going off the grid. The agency is just a subway ride away. A-And, I’m still going to be in the industry. So we’ll see each other around at events and such… Besides, we’re friends.”

Friends. A delicate word to reflect on a delicate subject. And it shows in Midoriya’s eyes, watching you carefully. His eyes look you up and down, before he gives a half-smile. It looks like he has so much to say. But he eventually settles with, “Of course. We are friends.”

A long pause follows. The pair of you take each other in, until the sound of footsteps pass by Deku’s office and it brings you back to reality. You look away first. “I just… I thought I would let you know. As a courtesy.”

He nods. “I-I appreciate that. And I really am happy for you. Kacchan and Kirishima are good heroes, and they are good bosses too. I expect great things will happen with you on board.”

You laugh. “Midoriya, you are speaking way too highly of me. It’s just an entry level position, The amount of influence I’ll have is probably second to none.”

He shrugs. “So what? I believe in my friends - and I believe in you.” After a moment he clears his throat. “When is your last day?”

“About a week and a half from now,” you reply.

He nods slowly. “Got it. Well, thanks for letting me know.”

You leave work that night a little unsettled, wondering if you’ve made the right decision in telling Midoriya.

The last week and a half of your employment at Deku’s agency is quiet. Midoriya gets pulled into a job on the other side of the country, meaning he doesn’t get to see you on your last day. You tell yourself that it’s normal that a big boss wouldn’t mind one of his part-time interns leaving and try to make peace with it.

Midoriya is right about Bakugou and Kirishima. Despite being a little rough around the edges, Bakugou is polite and engaging. Naturally, Kirishima is warm and welcoming. Ground Zero is definitely a bigger agency compared to Deku’s up and coming roots - but the two heroes still take the time to greet you.

It isn’t long before you’re taking on your own assignments - but your team is nice and supportive and Kirishima even tells you that the recent report you handed in was good.

Two weeks after you start working at Riot Ground, Bakugou’s Vogue Japan article gets released and you are immediately pulled last minute into the afterparty preparations that Riot Ground is holding to celebrate. You’re more of a background shadow to provide support, but you are still invited to the party. Kirishima says you can think of your attendance as a rite of passage for your employment - one that you intend to take full advantage of.

The afterparty is hosted at the top floor of this insane skyscraper in the city center - surrounded by lights and music and drinking. You spend most of the early night with coworkers, those in the same department as you as you all talk and laugh and make sure that things are going smoothly.

This sense of ease is probably how you’re able to notice him before he notices you.

Your stomach drops when you see Midoriya, someone who you hadn’t seen since that last conversation in his office. He’s at the bar, talking to some girl with a surprising amount of engagement and focus that you stare.

You cannot help the sickly feeling weighing at the pit of your stomach - because you cannot remember the last time Midoriya talked to you like that. Actually, you can. It was before the Christmas party. Before you engaged in that game of hypotheticals with him. You’ve never regretted the way the exchange went down. But you have regretted the aftermath - the halted conversations, the surface level charades. Midoriya had said he liked you back, sure, but perhaps he only did nice things for you because he wanted something? And surely once he realized he was never going to get anywhere with you - he just gave up, didn’t he?

That’s stupid, you think to yourself, because Midoriya isn’t like that. He’s sweet and earnest. He doesn’t seem like the kind of person to just throw them aside when they are no longer of use.

But, the other side of you whispers, things haven’t been the same since that night at the Christmas party. Perhaps it’s not out of left field for you to be doubtful.

Across the way, Midoriya catches your eye and gives you a smile. You wave back half-heartedly.

He tilts his head, giving you a look you hate that you can read. Is everything okay?

You just give a shrug, turning back to your coworker before he could respond.

You assume it’s the end of that conversation with Midoriya. In fact, the next time you (subconsciously) try looking for him, he isn’t at the bar anymore but on the dance floor with Uravity and Shouto. You disappear into an empty hallway that leads to the elevators, sipping the drink (water) you’ve gotten and try to ignore that vague feeling of relief upon realizing that girl was nowhere to be seen.

You turn back to your water, perhaps waiting for it to drown you or give you answers to questions you are too afraid to ask.

That is, until a figure slides up next to you. At first, you think it’s some stranger coming up to bother you. But it’s Midoriya.

“You look lonely,” he comments. Despite the loud music coming from the main room just a few feet down, the hallway is insulated enough where you can hear him properly.

You glance at him. “What do you mean? I’m peachy-keen.”

He frowns, the first crack in his wall. “You know, people who say they are peachy-keen are usually the opposite of that. I just can’t help but notice that you’re here by yourself, and you’re drinking water.”

“I’m on the clock,” you reply.

Midoriya looks around for a moment, before turning to face you fully. “Is everything okay? Nobody’s bothering you, are they?”

You look at him this time. “It’s fine, Midoriya.” You jerk your head out towards the main room. “Why don’t you go reunite with your girlfriend or something?”

Midoriya blinks. “Girlfriend? What are you talking about?”

Your eyes narrow into a glare. “Don’t try to play dumb with me, Deku. I know that you saw me looking. She’s cute. Thanks for letting me know about that, by the way.”

“Oh, just like you told me that you were looking for a new job?” Deku bites back. Another crack in his game of pretend. He also seems annoyed you’ve addressed him by his hero name. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s Uraraka’s manager and has been her manager since we graduated high school. We’re friends - just like I thought you and me were friends.”

You push yourself off the wall at that. “We are friends,” you protest hotly, defensive, not even sure if you believe your own words. “It’s just…”

“Just what?” Midoriya snaps, that friendly facade gone now. “Just the fact that I thought things would go back to normal after that night, only to get blindsided?” He runs a hand through his curls. “Listen, I was and am really happy for you that you got a great job with Kacchan and Eijiro. I just wish you told me you were planning to leave. That’s what friends do.”

“Well, why does it matter?” you retort. “A boss shouldn’t care too much if a lowly part-time intern decides to pursue a different agency for a different opportunity - !”

“But you weren’t just a lowly part-time intern!” he says loudly, then lowers his voice. His admittance echoes in your mind, making you run warm. Midoriya watches you carefully, as if waiting for you to dismiss him. When you don’t, he takes a step closer, rounding on you so that your back is against the hallway wall. “To me, it wasn’t like that. At first, it was. But I grew to really like you as more than just someone I saw at work everyday. I liked you a lot.”

You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down, remembering your doubts just a few moments prior. “Why does that matter now anyways? You clearly have more fun with that manager anyways.”

He groans, stepping closer, hands settling on your waist to push you against the wall. “What is this about? It seems like we’re mad about two separate things.”

You huff, trying to look away from him. “I’m not mad.”

He rolls his eyes. “Baby, your glare could cut glass. I can be single-minded sometimes. But I’m not stupid.”

You hate to admit it. But the pet name softens you up a bit. Enough that you turn your gaze back to Midoriya. “I was just frustrated okay?” you shoot back. “I was under the impression that we would stay friends too. But you were so distant after I told you I was leaving. You didn’t even say goodbye to me on my last day at the agency. I know you were away but… it still hurt me. And then I come to this party and see you for the first time in a month talking to some other girl. Not just talking - talking excitedly and happily. I just couldn’t help but overthink about why you enjoyed your time with her more than time with me.”

His eyes flicker between your eyes, but he relaxes after a moment. “I always enjoy my time with you,” he explains softly. “But I’m sorry. I should have spoken up when I noticed we were playing this game of just pretending to be alright. I think the thought of confrontation made me more nervous. And I’m sorry for not being there for your last day.”

You sigh. Perhaps hearing his apology is just what you’ve needed after all this time. “No. I’m sorry. It takes two people to have a conversation, and I was also not reaching out to communicate my frustration. I guess… perhaps, a part of me wanted to know what would happen with us. And if…” you trail off.

Midoriya raises an eyebrow. “If…” he coaxes, leaning in. When you don’t say anything, he smiles. “If I still like you?”

You pout. “You have no tact, do you know that?”

“I think the proper phrase is ‘relief knowing I can now openly communicate with the girl I’ve been crazy about for months’.” He pauses. “Unless you’re more of a show don’t tell kind of person?”

He’s teasing you. “I don’t know,” you finally manage, feeling warm all over. “What would showing me look like?”

At your question, Midoriya smiles again. Less of a teasing smile, more of a soft and understanding curve that makes your heart race. Your anger is completely forgotten as one of his hands gently takes your chin. “Probably something like this…”

He leans in. You close your eyes, heart thumping out of your chest - because was this really going to happen? Right here? Right now? And to think you were so mad at him just an hour ago…

A call of your name. “Oi, I know you’re out here - oh. Fuck.”

Midoriya pulls away, his grip on your chin and your waist gone as if both of you are ripped back to reality. You jolt, eyes flashing open and turning towards the source of the noise. Bakugou stands at the entrance of the hallway, lips parted and eyes wide and looking uncharacteristically startled.

“Kacchan!” Midoriya exclaims, glancing at you before glancing back at your boss. “We were just… This wasn’t a spur of the moment thing…”

Bakugou tsks, recovering quickly as he raises a hand up to stop Deku from spiraling into a flurry of conversation and tangents. “I didn’t ask, nerd. I just need my employee’s help with something.”

You try to recover as well, ignoring your racing heart as you turn towards Bakugou. “O-Of course, what do you need?”

You step away from Midoriya, but he catches your wrist in his hand before you can go too far.

“Hey,” he says, stepping up next to you, not speaking until you’re looking at him. “Don’t be a stranger. If I promise to call, promise you’ll pick up.”

You cannot help but just smile and nod. “Okay,” you return. “I promise.”

He beams, and releases the hold he has on your wrist. You walk up to Bakugou, allowing him to lead you back into the loud dancefloor.

“Bakugou!” you call out, feeling the need to fill the silence between the two of you despite the music and laughter around you. “Midoriya is nice! And I really like him!”

Bakugou grunts, whirling around to face you. “Shut up!” he retorts. “I know. The stupid nerd hasn’t shut the fuck up about you since he found out I hired you. So I don’t think you need to worry. He likes you a lot too.” He pauses. “Now can you please help Eijiro set up the champagne fountain?”

You grin for more than just the champagne foundation. You shoot your boss a thumbs-up before making your way back into the main party, definitely feeling better than when you first stepped in here.

True to his promise, Midoriya calls. And to your promise, you answer. It doesn’t take long for the pair of you to resume the same ease of connection that developed when you first met. Partly because you have all this history together, but also because the feelings have been put out there. The calls and texts continue without the worry of crossing past a boss/employee relationship.

Having Midoriya in your life like this is different. There’s still a bridge to cross with him, but there’s a different openness about this compared to pretending not to be so into him.

Now he knows how much you like him. And you’re waiting for him to take the next steps.

But, again, it’s a line neither of you cross for the next few months. Midoriya is busy with work, and so are you. Ground Zero keeps you on your toes with increased responsibilities and solo projects that are stressful yet accomplishing. Yet, every “good job” thrown your way feels like a different badge of honor that heightens your confidence. It feels like some of the things you’ve wanted for your life (a stable career with responsibilities you enjoy doing and coworkers you actually like spending time with) are starting to come together.

Although yes, you are in a predicament with Deku, you refuse to let that damper your attitude about your overall life trajectory. Things will happen when they are able to happen.

It’s a thought that comforts you. For the next few months following the Riot Ground party, you maintain a limbo with Midoriya. Until there is a pounding on your door at three in the morning.

You start awake at the noise echoing through your apartment, heart pounding and eyes suddenly alert. What time is it? The digital BT21 Koya clock on your nightstand reads 3:02 AM. Who is it? No idea. A handful of college students live in this apartment building, so it isn’t unusual to hear knocks at this hour. They’re usually short; this one is not.

The persistence of it drags you out of bed and towards the door. Is it the smartest way to go about this situation? No. It could be a villain with super hearing, waiting for you to make a noise!! Or perhaps people pretending to be maintenance just so they can break in?

God, you definitely need to stop scrolling through Tiktok.

You sigh, tiptoeing to the peephole on your door. You’re expecting drunk college kids, or people you’re supposed to ignore.

What you see, however, is neither of those things. It’s Deku, slumped against the wall, looking uncharacteristically tired and out-of-breath. Brows furrowing and eyes widening, you open the door with more force than necessary. “Midoriya!” you exclaim, lowering your voice towards the tail-end when you remember that it is three in the morning. “A-Are you okay? What happened?”

Midoriya looks over at you. His face is bruised slightly and you don’t even want to know what kind of injuries he’s hiding underneath the suit. What happened? When he texted you earlier than evening, he looked and sounded perfectly fine. His eyes rake over you from head to toe, before he sighs. “Oh good. You’re okay.”

You stare, trying to mentally decipher his words but find that you have no idea what he’s talking about. “Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

He closes his eyes, taking in a deep breath before he pushes himself off the doorframe. Quietly, he leans into your space and slowly cups your face with his hands. Midoriya follows the curve of your face carefully, committing each detail to memory.

Clearly approaching the situation normally isn’t getting into his head. He’s too shaken by what he has seen. So you stare up at him, trying to catch his gaze. “Izuku…?” you try.

That catches his attention. He shifts to look back at you. He sighs, pressing his forehead against yours. “It’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just…”

“Do you want to come inside?” you offer gently.

Midoriya nods, allowing you to pull him inside the apartment. You make it to the living room, where he drops himself unceremoniously onto your couch. Despite his disheveled appearance, he is watching you carefully and looking more alert than before.

You look back at him, continuing to assess his condition. What happened to him? Did he need to see a doctor? You try to echo one of those thoughts. “Are you okay, Midoriya?”

He blinks. “I liked it…” he starts.

You move to sit on the couch. “You liked it?”

“You called me Izuku,” he clarifies. “I want you to keep calling me that.”

You sigh, eyes slanting into more of a frown than the wide-eyed concern from before. “Are you drunk?”

He looks away, rubbing at his face. “No, I’m not.”

“Well, do I have to drive you to the hospital?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I’d have to disagree. A Midoriya… I mean Izuku,” you correct when Midoriya gives you a look. “An Izuku who is normal wouldn’t come barging in at three in the morning looking like he’s just seen hell.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, which worries you more. Well, if he doesn’t want to go to the hospital and he’s not drunk, you turn to the next best solution.

You move to get off of the couch. “Let me get you some water.”

“Wait.” His hand catches your wrist. He’s not even pulling you that hard, but his touch leaves you rooted to the spot. “J-Just stay here, if that’s okay.”

You settle back on the couch, trying to catch his eye. Yours widen slightly when you realize that his eyes are glassy. Was Midoriya crying? “Hey, Izuku…” you start, sitting closer to him. “What’s wrong?”

He looks up for a moment, before looking back over at you. “Can I…” he trails off. “Can I just…” When you don’t flinch away, he takes that as a sign. He wraps his arms around your waist, scooping you up and plopping him on his lap with your knees on either side of him. Straddling him, you let him manhandle you. You let him press you to him, chest to chest, and a hand at the back of your head to press your face into his neck. He noses at your hairline slowly.

“Izuku,” you whisper, voice muffled into his suit. “Tell me what happened.”

Midoriya takes in one more deep breath, before he loosens his grip enough for you to pull back and see his face. “I was finishing up my patrol when a group of villains ambushed me. That part was normal, since it’s the middle of the night and maybe they thought they could get away with it? Everything was fine until I saw you. One of the villains used his quirk and made me see something that really shook me up.”

Considering that he’s here, hugging you like he’s trying to merge with you, you think you have a vague idea of what he could have seen. But you refuse to be self-centered. You gently fiddle with the hair at the back of his neck. “What did you see?”

He doesn’t look at you as his fingers run over the hem of your sleeping shirt. “You showed up, and they took you away. No matter how far I ran, I couldn’t catch up. I couldn’t save you. Luckily, some of my sidekicks showed up so they didn’t get away. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what they had shown me. I just had to make sure you were okay.”

You exhale, not realizing you had held your breath during Midoriya’s story. At the very least, this explains his frantic behavior. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m here.”

He sighs, moving his hands to your waist. “It’s not okay though,” he returns, looking at you. “I think not being able to talk things out with you has freaked me out, thinking that I’ll miss my chance and lose you.”

“You won’t lose me,” you say quietly. “I really like you.” You relax slightly in his arms. “We don’t have to talk about us right now but I don’t want you to rush into anything with me. I know that you’re here to protect people and you’re trying to establish yourself. I don’t want to get in the way of that. I don’t want you to spread yourself too thin.” You look down, suddenly nervous. “When this becomes something, I’m going to be a little selfish. I don’t want to feel like I’m coming in second place. I want everything that you’ll give me, and I want to feel like you’re always going to choose me. I know that in itself is selfish, but I just want to be upfront with you.”

One of Midoriya’s hands comes up to cup your cheek. He angles himself to meet your gaze. “Don’t ever call yourself selfish like it’s a bad thing. I want you to be selfish because I always want you to myself.” He starts mindlessly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I want to be honest with you too. I can’t promise you that I can respond to texts within the hour. I can’t even promise that I’ll be on time for every date. But I’ll always consider you. And I’ll always choose to come back to you.”

Overcome with helpless affection for him, you cannot help looking down at his lips. Suddenly, you’re aware of what you’re wearing and what you’re not wearing. Your sleeping attire is just a Riot Ground t-shirt you got from a team-building event during orientation and some loose shorts. Your lack of a bra is the most obvious.

Judging from Midoriya’s darkened eyes, he knows this.

A pause. Then he brings you down to him, kissing you softly. Time seems to melt away as you shut your eyes and allow yourself to get lost in him. You can feel Midoriya’s grip tighten, pulling you closer as little uncontrollable whimpers fall from your lips.

Without warning, you feel yourself get hoisted up again. One hand around your waist, one hand hooked around a leg as you are maneuvered onto your back. Above you, Midoriya is steady and comforting and warm. He stares down at you like it is his first time seeing you. The sight sends jolts of anticipation through your body.

On instinct, your arms find the back of his neck as he leans down to peck your lips once, twice, thrice more before starting a trail of butterfly kisses down your neck. He stops at the base, nipping and biting. It tickles, causing little giggles to escape you as you twitch occasionally at the overwhelming sensation.

Midoriya hums, lifting himself back up. “So sensitive,” he mutters.

You pout, tighten your grip on the back of his suit. “Is that okay?”

He smiles, leaning back down to touch your nose with his. “More than okay. It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Want to keep going?”

You cannot help but smile back, heart beating helplessly in your chest. “Yes,” you whisper, nervous but knowing that you trust him more than anything.

So Midoriya kisses you again, his hands move to your waist to inch your shirt up higher and higher. He kisses down your stomach, fingers gripping the waistband of your shorts. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.

You nod, realizing after a moment that he cannot see you. “Yes, yes, please Izuku…”

You stare up at the ceiling as he pulls your bottoms down, exposing you to the air outside. It doesn’t stay unoccupied for long before he’s diving in between your legs, licking and sucking at spots that make you see stars.

And when he curls up with you later that night under the blankets, refusing to let you go as you giggle and complain about needing the restroom, your heart is high with hope. Hope that perhaps it’s finally time for you and Midoriya. That perhaps, the game is finally over.

The following day, Midoriya shows up to the Riot Ground agency. He had left early that morning, leaving behind a text apologizing and promising to make it up to you later that day. You hadn’t been entirely sure what making it up to you would entail, but you just told him you were looking forward to it.

It’s a little bit before your lunch break when Bakugou comes stalking towards your cubicle. You’re still on the phone with the guys at HEROES MAGAZINE when he approaches, but he’s surprisingly patient as he waits for the call to end.

You hang up after a few more minutes of last minute confirmations. “Everything okay?” you ask, redirecting your attention to Bakugou.

He grunts, crossing his hands over his chest. “You have a visitor. Real insistent about seeing you.”

You tilt your head. “Who is it?”

He sighs, unfolding his arms. “Come on.”

Nervously, you follow Bakugou into his office. Inside, you find Midoriya sitting on the couch. He’s talking to Kirishimia, but all the attention shifts to you as soon as you enter. Midoriya’s face lights up. “Hey!” he greets cheerfully, standing up to approach you.

You let him, unable to help but smile back as the memories of last night fill you with warmth. The fact that those events were real and tangible still baffles you. “Hi, Izuku…”

He scratches the back of his neck. “I really am sorry about having to leave after… yeah. After that.”

You laugh, forgetting that both of you have company. “It’s fine. I know you’re busy. You’re here. That’s what’s important to me.”

Midoriya smiles, actually looking relieved at your reassurance. “I’m glad…”

From what sounds like miles away, Bakugou interrupts with a laugh. “Oh my fucking god.”

You turn to look at him. “Something wrong boss?”

Bakugou is still smirking. He looks between you and Midoriya like he knows something you do not. He, however, makes it clear with his observation. “You guys finally hooked up, didn’t you?”

Immediately, your heart feels like it’s racing on overdrive as your entire body runs hot. “H-How did you… I mean, it’s just… I don’t…”

Midoriya’s cheeks turn pink. “Kacchan, we’re in a workplace - can’t you keep things professional?”

“Professional?” Bakugou echoes, smirking. “You have a lot of nerve saying that to me, Deku. Especially when the two of you are all googly-eyed right in front of my salad!!!”

“Oi, Katsuki,” Kirishima interrupts, getting up from the couch and walking over to slap a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder. “I think it’s cute. Go easy on them.” Kirishima shifts his attention to you and Midoriya. “So, what’s this? You guys just hooking up? Or boyfriend and girlfriend? No shame either way!! I think it’s great that we live in a society where every stage and every kind of relationship has an appropriate label.”

The overall question makes you want the ground to swallow you whole. This is especially the case because you and Midoriya haven’t even discussed what this is yet. What if you answered and it wasn’t the answer Midoriya had in mind. Or would staying silent be the better option? Should you already know what kind of relationship you’re in with Midoriya? You know you talked things out yesterday but was making an assumption going too far?

Your silence makes Kirishima smile. “I mean, there’s also no shame in being undecided. As long as you guys are communicating.”

Midoriya wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. “I’m actually here to invite you to dinner tonight,” he says, pointedly ignoring his friends and their teasing smiles.

You smile nervously, unsure whether or not to go along with Midoriya. You decide for it eventually. “Sure. I get off around 5. Can I meet you someplace?”

He shakes his head, looking at you with stars in his eyes. “No, no, I’ll come pick you up.”

True to his promise, Midoriya is in the lobby of Riot Ground. He gives you that same bright smile, takes your hand. The restaurant he’s selected for the two of you is a few stops away, and he fills any silence with questions about your day and conversations like this is any normal day. Not at all like you’re about to go on (what you would consider to be) a date with Midoriya.

It’s a sentiment you feel confident enough to echo once the pair of you are seated next to each other in the booth. You notice quickly that he’s taken you to a ramen shop you’ve mentioned enjoying once or twice. The realization draws out a happy, private smile.

At your observation of this date, he mirrors your grin. “I’m glad we’re on the same page about this. It makes me feel less nervous about telling you that… last night?” He asks like he needs to make sure you know what he’s referring to. Like you need a reminder. But you nod, because Midoriya seems nervous. “That was all real to me. I know dating me would be challenging. But I really like you and I want to be with you. I hope that doesn’t freak you out.”

Detecting his nerves regarding the subject, you reach out to take his hand. “Izuku, it doesn’t freak me out. I also mean what I said yesterday. I really like you.” You feel yourself go warm with meekness. “Although, I thought it was obvious that I wouldn’t freak out no matter what you said. You did spend the night, amongst other things… I don’t do that with guys I don’t like.”

Midoriya laughs softly. “I just didn’t want to make any assumptions.”

You nod. “Well, cease your worries. I am thoroughly into you.”

Since you’re not rejecting his advances, Midoriya grows bolder. “So… can I do this…?” He laces your fingers together.

You smile. “Yes,” you whisper, looking over at him.

He moves closer, still wearing that fond grin. “And when I drop by the agency, can I tell Kacchan that I’m visiting my girlfriend?”

Your smile morphs into a grin, but there are butterflies in your stomach. “You should probably be a little more professional around your Kacchan.”

He pouts at that. “What if it’s for something important?”

You gap slightly, unconsciously inching closer to him. “What could be so important with you and your new girlfriend that you need to visit her workplace?”

He smiles at the question, eyes flickering down to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you. It’s firm and quick, startling you enough to elicit a squeak from the back of your throat. But he pulls away before you can relish in the gesture.

When you open your eyes, Midoriya is still looking at you. You can feel the weight of his answer in his stare, making one very firm decision: you were going to suck his dick on the car ride home.

Nearly one year later, the hero rankings are announced on a bright sunny afternoon.

You are in your now shared apartment when the broadcast starts. When Midoriya is announced as the new number one hero. It’s a big moment within the hero community; not entirely unexpected considering the anticipation of Deku’s return and what he has been able to accomplish since then. It’s a moment that garners big cheers as Midoriya takes the stage alongside the other top ten heroes.

You watch as each top ten hero makes a speech about their appreciation and their promise to continue protecting the country. As Midoriya makes his own speech, your heart feels light with pride and joy.

It’s a feeling that continues into the late afternoon, when you’re fitting the bed with newly washed sheets that you hear the front door open and slam shut. “Baby?” It’s Midoriya. “Baby, I’m home!!!”

You immediately come bounding out of the bedroom, dashing towards the entrance where Midoriya is slipping off his shoes. “Welcome back!! Congratulations on your ranking, Izuku!”

At once, he sweeps you up into a hug, bringing your feet off the floor and your laughter in his ear. “Thank you,” he whispers earnestly, setting you back on the floor. He kisses your cheeks, spoiling you as if you were the one who has just ranked as the number one hero in the country. “Did you watch the broadcast?”

“Of course!” you say, giving him a look. “It’s a big deal, Izuku.”

He pulls back enough to send you one of his soft smiles. “Thank you.”

You shake your head, cupping his cheeks. “How do you want to celebrate, Mr. Number One?”

“Well, Uraraka is hosting a party later today to celebrate the new rankings. But…” he trails off, turning meek. He leans forward, nose to nose. “Kind of want to eat you out. Is that okay?”

Your stomach flutters. His hands move up your shirt, touching at bare skin. “W-We should do something for you.”

“You letting me eat you out is the something for me,” Midoriya returns, removing his hands to start messing with your shorts. He pulls both shorts and panties down, lowering himself down to let you step out of them. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he traverses down the hall back into your shared bedroom. Gracefully, Midoriya lowers you amongst the pillows.

One, two, three more kisses along your forehead, cheek and lips, before Midoriya makes his way down your body. Lifting your shirt over your head, planting two kisses on each nipple, down your stomach, immediately wrapping his arms around your legs to keep them apart. A kiss on your clit melts into a lick that makes you choke on a whimper.

Midoriya has always been good at eating you out. Ever since that first night, he is keen on prodding at the spots that drive you to the edge the quickest, or dragging things out as long as he wants to. It’s that scary observational skills from his line of work getting put to personal use.

And you’re not complaining.

In the fifteen minutes he spends in between your legs, you come three times. You’re shaking, gasping, overwhelmed by the time he lifts his head up with his lips shiny with juice.

You’re still trying to catch your breath as Midoriya undoes his belt, takes out his cock. He runs it over your slit once before pushing in past the ring of muscle. The sensation makes you jolt, crying out as you arch and push at his chest. “Izuku… wait.” Your walls flutter, causing Midoriya to sputter. “I just need to catch my breath.”

You take a few deep breaths as Midoriya thumbs at your hip in apology. “Sorry baby, I should have asked first.”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Midoriya leans down, kissing your ear and down your neck, nipping gently at your collarbone.The gesture, while ticklish, helps relax you enough to reflect on the events of the day. You’re not sure how long it is before you speak again.

“Hey, so since you’re the number one hero now…” you start once you feel like your head has cleared up enough. “You’re probably going to be a whole lot busier. Lots more people are going to be looking at you and relying on you. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted…”

Saying the words out loud makes a new kind of reality dawn on you. How would you fit in this equation of Midoriya’s newest accomplishment?

“Hey.” Midoriya’s voice draws you back. His head lifts from your neck, locking you in an intense stare, hands planted on either side of you. “I don’t know what exactly is going on in that head of yours. Just because I’m the number one hero now doesn’t mean that I still don’t care about you. It doesn’t mean that I’m suddenly going to stop considering you. I’m number one to the country, but you’re number one to me and that’s what is important.”

You pause, letting his words sink in. You giggle. “Izuku, that was super cheesy.”

“And what of it?” he purrs, using your giggle as the okay to readjust you. He takes your ankles, repositioning them over his shoulders. He leans in, bringing your legs to your chest, sinking deeper into you. The sensation makes you whine, arching your back and curling your toes.

“Mmmm,” you whimper, unable to do anything else but lay there and take it.

“Do you understand now?” he asks, pulling out until the tip and thrusting back in. “Do you understand how much I love you?”

As if it wasn’t hard enough answering his question, he’s hitting something in you that makes it difficult to think. “Fffuck, Izuku… yes…”

“Then, you think you can say it back to me, pretty girl?” He straightens up, keeping one of your legs on his shoulder as he increases his pace. His grip on you is strong, while his other hand starts drawing tight circles on your clit.

You start fluttering around his cock, unable to move away from the simulation. So you try to push at his chest in warning. “Izuku… wait…”

“I don’t know if I can, baby,” he says, almost disappointedly. “I can’t let my girl walk around not knowing how much I care about her.”

“I do know…” you whimper, shaking when he finds the right angle to rub your clit. “Aaaaaa… I know how much you love me.”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Good girl. Wanna say it back?”

He releases your other leg so that both fall on either side of his waist. Midoriya looms over you again, never once letting up his pace. “Say…” you manage, tongue feeling like jello. “Say what back?”

He hums. Still circling your clit, he runs his other hand up over your curves, palming your breast. “Say you love me back.”

“I love you - !” you squeal as he pinches a nipple. The coil in your stomach snaps, and white hot pleasure runs through your body. You shudder, tightening and fluttering and gasping. You weakly whimper as Midoriya continues to drive into you, your breasts bouncing with the movement. It stops when he gives you one last firm thrust, letting out a groan of his own that is so hot your walls flutter at the noise.

The high of what you’ve started together starts to die down as the silence is filled with your gasps and his panting.

Midoriya drops himself next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around you and nosing your hairline. “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hmmm?” you hum, content and still trying to catch your breath.

He doesn’t speak until you look at him. He leans in, touching his nose to yours. “I love you too.”

You try hard to bite back a grin. “Still want to go to Uraraka’s party?” you ask quietly.

He groans against your neck. “Not really.”

You giggle. “You should!” you scold. “It’ll be fun. You’re the number one hero now. Don’t you want to celebrate with your friends?”

“I’d rather just celebrate with you,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You roll your eyes playfully. “We just did. C’mon!” You push yourself off of bed, whirling around to face him. “I’m gonna pee. We’re going to shower, and then go.”

Never able to say no to you, Midoriya sits up on the bed and climbs out after you. “Okay, okay, baby. We’ll go.” Without warning, he hooks his arms under your knee and under your back, lifting you up and carrying you to the shower - the sound of your giggles filling the air.

The party is in full swing by the time you and Midoriya arrive at Uraraka’s house. Midoriya still has that post sex glow in his cheeks. It makes him clingy to you as you enter. The man at your side is immediately greeted by everyone, both friends and fans. It makes it easy for you to peel yourself away from your boyfriend, finding shelter in the living room.

There, you find Bakugou at the couch, nursing a drink in his hands.

Finding comfort in the sight of a familiar face, you approach him. “Bakugou! I didn’t think you’d show up.”

He gives you a sideways glance. “I wasn’t,” he says. “Eijirou said I should, so people can see that I’m supportive of Deku taking over the number one spot. Like I give a shit what people think anyways.”

You take a seat next to him. “I think you care a little bit. I know how much having that number one spot meant to you. Buuuutt,” you say, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “I think it could be seen as good, friendly competition. What do you think? Gonna start working double shifts to get your spot back?” you ask teasingly, grinning playfully at Bakugou. The latter is surprisingly quiet.

Bakugou gives you a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I knew it was only a matter of time,” he gruffs. “I really do hope as his girlfriend, you’ll never have to see this. But Deku? That nerd is crazy. Back in high school, during the war, he became this self-sacrificing maniac and acted out on his own. It’s a version of him I haven’t seen since then, but it’s a trait that never really went away. Deku lives to give back,” he mutters, so quiet that you wonder if you’re meant to hear him or not. “That’s why people gravitate towards him. It’s hard to compete with someone who would so willingly trade his happiness for others without hesitation.”

Bakugou’s eyes find something. You turn, following his stare to see Midoriya chatting it up with other pro-heroes. The latter looks bashful, but proud - he blends right into this world you are only just now starting to adjust to.

I hope you’ll never have to see it.

You watch as Midoriya’s gaze finds yours, waving when he smiles at you, trying not to ponder too deeply into Bakugou’s words.

Despite your wishes, you spend some time thinking about Bakugou’s observation. It’s true. Midoriya is a giver. He gives and gives and gives, hardly ever taking anything in return. He rarely asks to take time off, asks you to take care of him, and rarely ever thinks about himself.

A year after Midoriya becomes the number one hero, you start to see what Bakugou had meant.

It starts small. So subtle that you don’t even notice it at the time. It happens on a random Thursday night, when Midoriya stops kissing you hello after coming back from the office. It’s something you don’t even notice at the time. You had just continued cooking dinner, oblivious to what that simple missing gesture would spiral into.

Then, he misses a lunch date. Texts about his whereabouts and any villain appearances on the news are non-existent, until you find out that he just got caught up on paperwork and simply lost track of time. He apologizes later that evening, promising to make it up to you. And he does. He brought flowers home the next day and took you out to dinner. So you forget about the incident, assuming that it was a one-time thing.

Only, it isn’t just a one-time thing. He misses a few more dates, and doesn’t even tell you he’s coming home late one evening, before you decide it’s time to prod. Gently though, because you aren’t a confrontational person.

It happens late one night, because Midoriya stops taking days off, when both of you are in bed. Midoriya still wraps one arm around you, using his other hand to scroll through his phone.

“Izuku, is everything okay?” you ask softly, almost nervous to question it.

He looks at you, smiling uneasily. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“N-No reason. I was just wondering if you’ve been more busy than before. It’s just that you’ve been coming home later and later. Not to mention that I know that you know there have been a few dates we need to catch up on…”

Midoriya lowers his phone, pondering your words as he wraps both arms around you. “I know, baby. I’m sorry about that. You know, I didn’t realize just how many cases the police are working on at any given time. Big-case villains, small-case villains, missing people reports… so as the number one hero I’m trying to help out as much as I can.”

You look over at him. “You’re working with the police to solve all those cases?” you try for a smile and a joke. “No wonder you’ve been so busy.”

He grins, not noticing the fake smile you’ve plastered on your face. He’s looking at you, but it feels more like he’s looking through you. “People out there need me.”

You touch his cheek, trying to root him back to you. “Well, I need you too, Izuku.” You try to sound lighthearted, but something heavy plants itself in your heart.

At that, Midoriya’s eyes really do focus on your face this time. He cups your cheek. “Baby, I’m right here. Always.”

Are you really? It’s a thought that your mind whispers to you softly, challenging you to say it. But you cannot rise to the task. You don’t say anything that night. You just nod, hugging him and thinking: this is the last time I’ll have to say this.

Unfortunately, life does not work that way. It finds a way to topple down all around you. Not only does Midoriya remain busy, but you get promoted at Ground Zero’s agency. You move from a cubicle into your own office along with a clusterfuck of new responsibilities.

The next few months feel like one thing after another. Every attempt both you and Midoriya make falls flat. You plan a birthday party for Midoriya, only to fly out on a impromptu business trip hours before. Midoriya makes reservations for the grand opening of this fancy sushi restaurant, but ultimately stands you up because he fell asleep on the couch. He tries to come home early to surprise you, but you’re out buying groceries for the week.

Conversation between the two of you becomes as nonexistent as the plans you try to make. What were once joyful exchanges about the past or eventful tales from your jobs become surface level questions about the weather or if either one of you were going to be home for dinner - with the answer typically being no. It feels like another game of pretend with Midoriya - only this time, you’re pretending like this relationship is on the right track.

Everything comes to a headway on a Tuesday morning. Midoriya is out of bed and out of the apartment. Typical. You didn’t even hear him come in last night (or early this morning). But you notice a text message from Kirishimia at six in the morning. Less typical. Urgent meeting at the heroes commission. Turn on the news when you wake up.

The headlines jump out onto the screen as soon as you turn on the TV.

DEVASTATING EARTHQUAKE STRIKES. TOP OVERSEAS PRO HEROES REQUESTED FOR REINFORCEMENTS.

The footage is horrible. Buildings toppled down, rubble everywhere. People digging through. Children screaming. All the things of nightmares, not unlike the disaster you remember from your childhood - from the Liberation War all those years ago.

It’s footage that continues to be displayed over social media and over the city as you get ready for work and take the subway to the office. It’s still there when you turn on the TV in your office when you show up to work.

“It’s horrible,” Roni, your friend from the finance department, mutters, arms crossed over her chest as she joins you to watch. “The hero commission is probably trying to figure out which heroes to send over and which ones need to stay here in Japan.” She turns to you. “Any news from Deku?”

The mention of his name makes your stomach churn. Truthfully, you haven’t spoken to Izuku, really spoken to him, in weeks. You don’t even remember the last time you existed in the same space together. You clear your throat. You check your phone with a weight in your gut, knowing that there won’t be any messages.You hate that your suspicions are confirmed. “Nothing.”

He’s probably at the same meeting as Bakugou and Kirishimia, along with all the other top heroes.

It is a few hours of tense silence in the office. Both for the fate of which heroes will travel abroad and if your bosses will be part of that departure.

The aforementioned bosses return a few hours later, confirming that they will not be sent away. As part of the top five pro-heroes, they are tasked with staying. “Because some others at the top volunteered to leave. The commission wants to make sure at least some of us are still here holding down the fort,” Kirishima clarifies.

You wring your hands nervously. “What about Deku?” you ask.

Bakugou is noticeably quiet, something you pick up on. “You should go home,” he says instead. Then, he trails off into something softer. “That damn nerd doesn’t know when to stop.”

Your eyes widen, your heart picks up, and you leave. You practically race home to your apartment, to your home.

Izuku is packing when you arrive.

You slam the door. “What the fuck are you doing?”

For a moment, your Izuku peaks through the cracks. He jolts, looking startled and wide-eyed. But when he realizes that it’s you at the door, that facade disappears. You are facing Pro Hero Deku now, the hero who has just volunteered to fly away from here, away from you. “My flight is leaving soon,” he says, returning to packing.

“You’re leaving,” you echo. “Just like that?”

“You saw the news, didn’t you?” he challenges. “Those people need me. I have to help them.”

“Without asking me?”

He pauses. “This isn’t something I need a second opinion on.”

You clench your teeth together, trying to swallow the hurt. You’ve heard the stories from Bakugou about Izuku during the Liberation War - about Izuku barrelling headfirst into tracking down All For One alone, without his classmates or his support system, without regard to himself. His warnings suddenly feel like a lifetime ago. “A second opinion?” you bite. “I’m not a fucking doctor, Izuku, I’m your girlfriend. I thought we were a team. Shouldn’t I have a say in this?”

He throws his clothes on top of the ones he has already folded in. “What is there to say? How do you expect me to stand aside when I have a way of helping these people? How could you understand, when you don’t have the power I do.”

Ouch. You never thought he’d pull that card. Just because you don’t have a flashy quirk doesn’t mean that you don’t want to help people, it doesn’t mean that you don’t care. But your anger turns into sharp words that leave your lips without warning. “Fine,” you snap. “Do whatever the fuck you want. You’re really good at that.”

He glares at you. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know anything!” you protest loudly. “Don’t pretend like you haven’t been home in weeks, because you haven’t been here. Not really, anyways. Did you know this is our first conversation in days? But not just that. You’ve been standing me up, ignoring me for months. I thought we could eventually talk about this when things at work quieted down. But things have quieted down. All the other heroes, all your friends, are having date nights and friend nights. But you aren’t. You still aren’t here with me. You just stay out there, taking one police case after another.”

“You knew what you were doing when we started going out,” Izuku snaps back. It’s like you’ve both been holding back on each other, only waiting until now for the dam to break. “I’m the number one hero now. My quirk comes from All Might, and so do his responsibilities. I can’t always be here.”

It’s all coming out now, you think vaguely to yourself. The anger is overpowering the hurt you should be feeling. “I know that, and I’m not asking you to always be here,” you say sharply. “I’ve always said that I just want you to consider me and care about me. But I can see that something like that is impossible for you to do.”

Stop, your mind whispers. Anyone with eyes could see that Izuku cares. He cares more than anyone else on the planet. That’s why he’s here. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’re in love with him, and that’s why it hurts so much.

“You’re right,” he finally speaks hollowly. “How can you expect me to neglect my job? Because that job, and the people that need me…” he pauses. “Are more important than what’s here.”

The next words you were planning to say die down in your throat, as you both are left alone in the silence of what you’ve just said to each other. What is there to say after all that?

That’s when the hurt settles in, the insecurities threatening to swallow you alive. You know that you’ve also said some terrible things, but the knowledge that Izuku has confirmed your worst fears renders you mute. That you, for all the love in your heart you hold for the man in front of you, will always see you as second place in his life.

“Fine,” you whisper, refusing to see the empty look in Izuku’s eyes. Not like you can see it anyways with the tears fogging up what’s in front of you. “Go do whatever you want. Save the world just like you always have, Deku. But you should know that if you get on that plane, I’m done. If you get on that plane, it’s over between us.”

You remember to grab your keys off the counter before walking out the door.

You don’t know how far you walk, or for how long. The nighttime bustle ignores your sulking as you continue down the sidewalk. You pass by night clubs, convenience stores, other apartment buildings - but none of those matter. All you know in your heart is that this might be the end of you and Izuku. And the last thing he would remember you saying is that he doesn’t care.

You stop in your tracks. How could you say something like that? Izuku is the number one pro hero because he cares, and he has been a consistent source of comfort in your life because he cares. Was it really okay for you to give him such an ultimatum when you never said you could make him choose between work and you? Maybe you can return back, apologize, and try to talk things out. Perhaps he didn’t mean what he said, just as you didn’t mean what you said.

You run back to the apartment. Had you walked further than you thought? Your lungs burn with air, your legs ache as you run up the stairs, and through the front door. “Izuku?” you call out. “Izuku, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I said those things…”

But the apartment is quiet, empty of Izuku and his immediate belongings. He’s gone.

How could he just leave? Izuku may be petty, but never aggressive when upset. Especially when something as big as this serves as a roadblock to your relationship. Especially when you don’t know when you’ll see him again.

On instrict, your hand goes to your back pocket to check your phone but it’s not there. You pat yourself down a few times, but come up to the same conclusion. No phone. Did you have it with you when you left? You swear you left the office with it in your bag.

Your bag. It was thrown by the door upon first arrival. You tear into it, rummaging through laptop, files, notebook and planners before producing the damn thing. The screen lights up.

9 missed calls from Izuku <3

Izuku <3 (6:03pm): the driver is here. I wish we had more time. I’m sorry for what I said. I’m sorry I have to get on this plane. But people need me. I can’t just stand aside.

Izuku <3 (6:03pm): I hope we can talk soon

The lump comes back and doesn’t leave. It makes the tears come fast and hard, the gasps leave your throat as you throw your phone somewhere faraway before curling up against the door. Because are you not someone he cares about? Don’t you deserve to have help from him?

You bring your knees to your chest, feeling the bitter loneliness stronger than you’ve ever felt before. You always knew that Izuku was a hero above and beyond. The pair of you have been dancing around each other for as long as you’ve known him. You really assumed that things would be alright once feelings were sorted out and Izuku showed up that night all those months ago, promising a commitment to you. But you were naive. Feelings were not enough to enact the selflessness needed to love a hero.

Just before you fall asleep that night, you vaguely remember crawling onto the couch. Your body carries a heavy weight that lots of tears usually bring, along with a sore neck and back. You sit up feeling groggy and tired, immediately searching for your phone. Although the intention is to check the date and time, you still feel disheartened when you notice Izuku has not called or texted since his previous message.

You do, however, have some texts from Bakugou.

boss bakugou (9:46pm): Hey, call me when you get this. I should have told you about the nerd, but thought it was better you hear it from him. Hopefully everything has worked out.

boss bakugou (9:46pm): Or whatever. I don’t give a shit what happens to you two.

boss bakugou (9:46pm): I’m mostly kidding.

boss bakugou (11:02pm): Did Deku leave????

You blink, reading the messages many times over because your tired mind cannot process it normally. You debate reading the message, or just ignoring it and also skipping work while you’re at it.

you (6:34am): he left

Your fingers hover over the keyboard.

you (6:40am): it’s over

You should know that Bakugou would be awake at this time.

boss bakugou (6:42am): Still want to come into work?

A part of you doesn’t want to. But a tiny part of you whispers that you should.

you (6:54am): of course

Despite your reassurance, there is a numbness that comes with hopping into the shower and washing away the messiness of yesterday. Because no matter how long you stand underneath the water, you cannot wash away the words and feelings.

Because was this really the end of you and Izuku? He really did leave, finalizing everything with his choice - picking the world over you. Implying that you aren’t as important as his job and the people who need him is a bold claim. It’s not something one can just make up on the spot and not mean.

Getting dressed is harder than you thought. You have to put some spoons in the refrigerator to help with the puffiness of your eyes. You have to step into your bedroom for the first time since Izuku left to gather some clothes. For some reason, the reality of what exactly you’ve gone through with Izuku doesn’t hit you. It makes you numb, sure, but it feels like these are problems someone else is going through.

Someone who is not you, as you leave your apartment and somehow manage to find your way to the Riot Ground agency.

Kirishima and Bakugou are in the lobby of the building as you enter.

You aren’t going to speak first, and the heroes in front of you seem to know that. “The nerd really left?” Bakugou asks.

You really thought you wouldn’t cry, especially after crying last night and determining that you were fine enough to work. But somehow, external forces bring up the feelings and the lump in your throat returns. You tuck your hair behind your ears, internally cursing as tears start gathering in your eyes. “Well,” you start, unable to help the way your voice catches, the way it breaks. “He made his decision clear last night.”

“Man, he was just like this when we were kids,” Kirishima grumbles. “Always putting others before himself. I just never thought he’d do that to you.” He looks at you. “I’m really sorry. I hope he didn’t say anything stupid. He was going a little crazy during that meeting.”

“He…” you gasp a little under the weight of your tears, hoping that neither Kirishima nor Bakugou will comment on it. “He said… our relationship wasn’t important.” You sniff. “I mean… I also said some mean things. But… I really… didn’t think… he’d leave without saying… goodbye.”

Bakugou wordlessly passes you a tissue while Kirishima guides you down the hall into his office. Neither of them press you for details as you sit in front of Kirishima’s desk, trying to calm down.

“Deku isn’t thinking about himself right now,” Bakugou says quietly once your gasps have died down and the tears have stopped. “When he sees that people need him, and he knows he can help, he’ll self-sabotage himself. That doesn’t excuse what he said, but he likely isn’t thinking clearly.”

You nod slowly, not sure if you’re acknowledging Bakugou’s words or just trying to get a handle on the overall situation. “I don’t know what to do,” you whisper.

Kirishima nods. “It’s a lot to handle. And you don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for.” He shakes his head. “I’m not sure what anyone would do after hearing words like that.”

What would be the next step anyways? A text from Izuku first implies that perhaps moving the conversation along falls onto your shoulders. But what is there to say? Hey Izuku, I know you said this isn’t important to you and you left for another country for an undisclosed amount of time even though I said our relationship was over if you left. Anyways, how’s it going?

So rather than think about it - you wait, wondering if the right moment will ever come.

And you wait.

But you never seem to find the words to say.

Midoriya Izuku is away for a year and a half.

Your phone remains empty of his texts, his calls, or his love for the entire time. But you see him everywhere, especially on the news where the world is praising him for yet another save. Whether it’s digging people out of the rubble, or helping other countries with villain cases, or teaching society how to rebuild their communities after disasters.

He’s in his element. His tinge of sadness is probably the knowledge that he couldn’t save everyone, you think to yourself. Always watching him on your phone, or on your laptop when a breaking news notification comes up.

You’re sure he’s happy with his choice. After all, a year and a half with no contact is quite telling about his decision. Yours too, because you never mustered up the courage to ask how he was doing. You never talk to him.

Yet, you hear about him enough. Not just through the news, but through your boss and colleagues. It’s hard to avoid your pro hero ex-boyfriend when you work in the hero industry and so happen to have two bosses who have known the aforementioned ex-boyfriend since high school.

For the most part, both Kirishima and Bakugou don’t mention Izuku. They keep their opinions to themselves with everyday that goes by. They didn’t say anything when you started showing up to work without the necklace Izuku had given you, when you removed the matching phone charm, or when the couple's picture you had framed on your desk went into the trash.

It’s a line, however, that Bakugou crosses when you give him a box of Izuku’s things - the things he didn’t bring abroad with him like his extra sweaters, books, his favorite All Might mug, and that aforementioned necklace. “Listen,” Bakugou had said. “I know things have been hard for you, having to see that nerd’s face everywhere. But I’m sure it’s been rough for him. Why don’t you give him a call?”

“What is there to say?” you had returned softly.

Bakugou had rolled his eyes. “How about you start with saying sorry? I’m sure he also feels the same.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Would sorry be enough to make up for what you said? Would sorry be enough to make up for what he said? Would that be enough to repair the underlying issues of your relationship?

It’s a quiet year and a half. You move out of that old apartment, into a newer but smaller one. You work, eat, and sleep. You see friends on the weekends and watch dramas on the weekdays. Eventually, you stop watching the news every night. You stop getting notifications about Pro Hero Deku on your phone, which is why it comes as a big surprise when Kirishima approaches your office on a random Friday morning. He leans against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest.

“He’s coming home.”

Your stomach drops without meaning to. A name doesn’t need to be uttered for you to know who exactly is coming home. You continue typing out your email, doing well to ignore that feeling inside of you. “Is… is that so?”

Kirishima nods, eying you worriedly. “The repair efforts are finally done. Deku refused to return until he knew everyone was okay.”

Of course he would, you observe. “I-I’m glad to hear that,” you muster softly.

Out of the corner of your eye, Kirishima is still watching you. “Ochako and Iida are hosting a welcome back party for him. I wasn’t sure if you’d be interested…”

“Probably not,” you say, eyes not leaving your screen. “But thanks for the invite.”

Kirishima makes a noise. “Hey, I think that Katsuki and I have been as hands-off as possible about you and Izuku - but don’t you think it’s been long enough? Why not just talk about your problems instead of avoiding them?”

You look at him for the first time since he stopped by your office. “I’m not avoiding anything,” you point out. “Midoriya said what he needed to say. I said what I needed to say. Besides,” you look back at your screen. “It happened. He’s moved on. And so have I.”

Kirishima walks until he’s standing right next to you. He leans back against your desk. “You’ve moved on, huh? Even more reason to go, right? That’s what a friend would do, isn’t it? Support your other friend who is returning home after a year?”

“He has plenty of other friends,” you retort. You’re not even sure what you’re typing out anymore, but it’s better than looking at Kirishima. He’s likely disappointed in your decision. “He wouldn’t miss seeing me.”

Your boss makes a noise of protest, but doesn’t say anything. He ends up leaving for an upcoming meeting, saving you the trouble of his further pestering. Not ever seeing Izuku again, you decide, would be the best option.

Unfortunately, life doesn’t turn out that way. Because three weeks after Midoriya Izuku’s alleged return, there is a knock on your door.

And you, expecting a package, opens the door. Your stomach drops. “I-Izu- I… Midoriya!” you choke out, your heart suddenly feels like it is launching itself into the sun. Your stomach doesn’t fare well either. You swear it feels like it’s being wrung dry. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, eyes flying all over him as if trying to make up for the year and half you haven’t seen him in person.

He’s different. His hair is a little shorter. It still has that curly texture at the top, over his forehead, but is that an undercut in the back? Oh dear. Today he is wearing jeans and a sweater with SWEATSHIRT in typed kanji. Well… some things are still the same. His eyes are still that deep forest green color. Today, they are sad. But they are wide, also looking you up and down like he is seeing you for the first time.

“Hi,” you exclaim after realizing neither of you have spoken words for a concerning amount of time. You try to ignore how distant, how light your voice sounds. You eventually manage to close your mouth. “Sorry, I…” Your thoughts are scrambling. “I was expecting a package…”

He seems to have found his voice. “O-oh!” he returns, holding up a box towards you. “That must be this. It was by your door.”

You try hard not to look at him as you reach over. You cradle the package, glad to have something to distract you as you fiddle with the edges. The first time you’re seeing Midoriya in a year and a half, and you are uselessly mute. You do open your mouth, but only to say something stupid. “Seems like the pro hero stuff didn’t work out, if you’re a delivery boy now.”

Midoriya blinks, quiet, and you curse yourself.

You close your eyes for a moment, opening them to look at him. “Sorry, that was stupid to say.”

He tries to smile. But it’s soft, sad, and doesn’t reach his eyes. You hate that you notice right away. “Not at all. C-Can I come in?”

You inhale slowly, tucking the package behind your back as you open the door wider for him. “Sure.” You watch carefully as he enters your apartment. He leaves his shoes on, but lingers at the entrance.

His eyes take in the new apartment. “I like the new place.”

“Thank you,” you say. You place the package on the small table near the door. “Midoriya… what are you doing here?”

He whirls around. “I’m actually here on business. Kacchan asked me to pick up some damage report.”

“Oh!” That was unexpected. It’s hard to tell if it’s unwelcomed or not that Izuku actually has a reason for showing up. It’s also hard to tell if Bakugou was actually too busy to come over himself. But it seems like a waste to ponder on that. “Oh, yes. That. I can grab that for you right now.”

You walk further into the apartment. Midoriya does take his shoes off this time to follow you. “Sorry for just showing up, by the way. I probably should have called you but…”

You start digging through your work backpack. “Why are you apologizing?”

“W-Well,” he stammers. “I know Kacchan sent me here on official business but… I don’t know. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m crossing a boundary or anything. I know Kacchan gave me your address, but still.”

Perhaps he is overstepping. For a moment, memories of his neglect, of your words, flash through your mind. But where you once felt hurt now feels distant and foreign. “Not at all,” you reassure, producing the file and looking up at him. “I mean, we’ve always… been friends, haven’t we?”

If Midoriya is bothered by your question, he doesn’t show it. He smiles again. Yet, once more, it does not reach his eyes. “Yeah. Of course.”

The silence feels like something dangerous. Izuku looks deep in thought, and it makes you panic. So you cover the distance and extend the folder towards him. “Here you go.”

He takes it. “Thanks.” A pause. “So, uh, how have you been?”

You rub your hands, definitely giving away the nerves. “I’m alright. Still working at Riot Ground, which is nice. I actually have to manage people… which is fun, but also nerve-wracking because there’s a team that relies on me to distribute tasks and be on top of everything.”

“Well,” Midoriya starts. “You’ve always been really organized, so I’m sure you’re doing great. Kacchan and Eijirou always have nothing but praise for you.”

You nod in agreement, not really thinking as you open your mouth to continue the conversation. “It’s nice that you kept in touch with them while you were away.”

You shut your mouth but it is too late. The words have already been spoken, and you regret it at once. Why? You were content playing pretend, just as you assume he had been - but now you’ve gone and opened your big mouth. Even worse, you forgot to run your thoughts through that filter in your brain.

Well. Not much you can do about this now. You’ve threatened the fragile peace of pretending, and now there is not much you can do independently. You pause in your movements, refusing to look at Midoriya. Instead, you stare at the wall behind him.

But it seems like you underestimate his kind nature. He doesn’t rise to the bait. From the corner of your eye, you see his nod. “I talked to them occasionally,” he starts softly. He pauses, long enough that you look at him. He’s staring back. “I just wanted to make sure things were alright back home.”

Your eyes widen, lips part. What exactly does he mean by that?

Your silence reads like an open invitation for Midoriya. He steps forward, opening his mouth - !

His phone rings, startling both of you out of whatever trance you were pulled into. You look down, shuffling. Midoriya jerks back, face shuttering before pulling out his phone. “K-Kacchan,” he grumbles.

Noises on the other end of the line. Bakugou, likely reprimanding him for taking too long.

After a moment, he jolts. “A-ah, you’re right! Sorry Kacchan. I got the files, I’ll head back over soon. No! No… there was no trouble. Okay.” He hangs up, looking at you. “That was Kacchan. I, uh, I should go.”

You nod. “Uh, yeah. No problem.”

He moves to make his leave. You follow behind just to see him out, but he turns around before he can leave. “Hey, so. Since I’m back… don’t be a stranger, okay? If you need anything, I’m here.”

Oh, a tiny voice whispers in your heart, fuck. He’s really continuing this game of pretend.

Valid. Izuku has never been good at confrontation. Neither have you, so you give your best attempt at a smile. “Thank you… Midoriya.”

His fingers twitch, but leaves soon after.

Pretending that you were always just friends with Midoriya is strange, but unsurprisingly normal considering your history with him. Now that he’s back home, his unexpected visit to your apartment seemed to enforce something: he’s willing to fake it as much and for as long as you are.

It starts small - hesitant texts he sends sharing something from patrol that remind him of you. Texts that transition into asking about your day, or inquiring about a show you mention. Naturally, you are hesitant to return the effort. But a small part of you, the small part that is soft on him, is elated that he is back and actually wants to talk to you.

“Of course the nerd would still want to be friends,” Bakugou scoffs. “You clearly don’t know your own boyfriend that well.”

“Ex,” you interrupt sharply. “Ex-boyfriend. And sorry I don’t have years of experience handling Midoriya like you do. Usually, when things end badly with an ex, ignoring each other is the bare minimum most people expect.”

“Well,” he snaps back. “You idiot. Deku isn’t like most people.” He quiets down when he sees the guilt on your face. “What are you going to do now? I heard you were invited to Todoroki’s party.”

That is true. Shouto himself extended the invitation to you through a text message you were surprised to get. After all, most of your friendships with the Izuku’s old classmates have slowed down a fair amount post breakup. In general, you’ve never been too big on attending gatherings of any kind. But since you and Izuku have reunited (i.e., you guys are just playing house rather than actually talk), it leaves you (once again) in a gray zone.

You settle with just trying to stay aloof. “I was invited, yeah.”

Bakugou glares at you. “What? You’re suddenly playing coy? You going or not?”

You shrug. “I don’t know!!”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s just a party. It’s not rocket science.” He pauses. “You should go.”

“What are you, my consciousness now?” you retort hotly.

“Okay, fine,” he spits. “Go. Or don’t go. And deal with a paranoid Deku who is stupid sometimes but not stupid enough to know when you’re avoiding him.”

You glare at Bakugou for a little longer, really hating how smart he is in spite of his brashness. You’re not really sure you can handle a confrontation with Midoriya right now, and you know that he’ll try to ask questions if you don’t show up. Especially because you know that he knows that Todoroki invited you himself.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go just for Todoroki,” you say, defeated sigh and all. You pick up your phone to look at the time. It’s 4:30, almost time to leave work for the day. “I’ll go home first to drop my stuff off then head over, I guess.”

“No,” Bakugou snaps, grabbing your work bag from the corner of your office. “I can see your tricks coming from a mile away. I’m not leaving you on the off-chance you’ll go home and pretend to be sick. We’re leaving now.”

“No, wait, BAKUGOU!” you exclaim, frantically trying to shut off your electronic belongings and gather the items on your desk that need to go into that work bag. “This doesn’t even involve you, why do you care so much?”

Bakugou whirls around in the doorframe of your office. “Because if that nerd tries to talk to me about you one more time I will blow his face off. We’re going.”

You try to act as if Bakugou’s words have lit a fire of meekness inside of you as you follow him out of the office. “A-Are you sure we need to leave now?” you fight weakly. “K-Kirishima isn’t even back yet!”

“Shitty Hair is patrolling until later today. He’ll be late,” Bakugou explains, practically shoving you into his car. “Besides, the sooner I get there, the sooner I can leave.”

You huff. “Your intentions are definitely in the right place there, Bakugou.”

He sneers at you, before turning up the radio and leaving the two of you in silence. It’s a bit of a drive to Todoroki’s house. But in Bakugou’s presence, you’ve never felt the need to speak words to fill the space. He’s enjoyed the quiet as much as you. However, today the quiet fills your mind with questions. Was it really okay for you to be at this party? Would your presence make things awkward? Was Midoriya going to be there?

Bakugou pulls up to Todoroki’s house soon, located in a quiet wealthy neighborhood away from the city. Despite the wealth that you feel in the air, Todoroki’s house is rather discreet and combines modern architecture with a traditional style. It’s beautiful - you’re simultaneously flabbergasted and impressed by how rich Shouto Todoroki is. With the high bamboo and trees, you almost don’t notice a gate on the property, unlocked by a code that Bakugou knows by heart. There’s a sizable driveway, filled with a few cars and a familiar figure that makes your heart both sing and drop.

Midoriya is in what you assume to be his car, scrolling through his phone. His gaze lifts when he sees you and Bakugou pulling up. For a brief second, his eyes widen when looking at you. But by the time Bakugou parks and you’re hauling yourself out of the car, that glint in his eyes is gone. He’s also out of his car as well, walking over to meet you halfway.

You immediately write that previous look off as nothing. Instead, you smile and wave as you approach Midoriya. “Hi Midoriya, did you just arrive?”

He smiles over at you. “Yeah. I was just answering a couple emails before you guys arrived.” He glances over at Bakugou with a look that is surprisingly… pensive? “Hi Kacchan.”

Bakugou grunts in greeting as he immediately starts making his way to Todoroki’s house.

You cast one last look at Midoriya, who is already looking at you. Feeling the awkwardness start settling in, you turn and follow after Bakugou.

There are more people at the party than you originally thought as Todoroki opens the door to greet you. You weren’t sure what to assume, only knowing that Shouto Todoroki is a relatively private person - but there is his entire class from the UA hero course and people you can only assume to be his family. Additionally, there are people you recognize from his agency - sidekicks and his manager, who (thankfully) you know.

Besides that, you are completely on the outside.

Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea.

Still, Bakugou’s warning about Deku is too prevalent to back away from. Besides, you think bitterly, you yourself had said it best to Midoriya. You’re friends.

You see Midoriya entering the house right behind you, and immediately make a beeline down the hallway. In your mind, the excuse is that you need to use the restroom. But asking Todoroki himself would subtract the ten minutes you’re banking on to find it. You’re not sure how long you’re going to be at this party. But every minute away from an unfamiliar crowd would be best.

You do manage to find a bathroom at the end of the hallway, telling yourself that no one is out there wondering where you are as you fix up your appearance in the mirror.

When you open the door, Mina is on the other side. She appears to be looking for something, until she sees you and you realize she’s looking for someone. For you.

She exclaims your name, bounding towards you. “I thought I saw you!!”

You shouldn’t be surprised that Mina is here, but your heart feels a little lighter knowing that you know another person. While dating Midoriya, you’ve had a few lunches or general hangouts with his old classmates. Everyone was always very friendly in that ‘this is my friend’s girlfriend’ type of way. From your memory, Mina was the someone who treated you more like a friend rather than Midoriya’s girlfriend.

“H-Hi Mina,” you manage, trying for a small smile. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she says, mirroring your smile. “How about you? I… heard what happened.”

“O-Oh really,” you reply, going stiff.

“Yeah, from Izuku. I didn’t know right away that you guys had… broken up,” Mina explains. “I was also sent overseas after that big earthquake. But I’m sure it must have been challenging. Frankly, Izuku is an idiot for what he did!”

You soften slightly. “Well… I wouldn’t say he’s an idiot. I think he just had to do what he thought was best.”

Mina smiles. “You’ve always been so nice and understanding. I’m glad to see that you’re doing well though! We should celebrate that.”

You blink. “What do you mean?”

“By letting me get you a drink, of course,” she exclaims, taking your wrist and dragging you back down the hallway. You catch Midoriya’s wandering gaze, but ignore him in favor of Mina taking you to the kitchen. She boasts about the soju and sake that Todoroki let her bring before the pair of you take a couple shots together. It leaves you warm, fuzzy, giggly, and prone to wandering around.

Eventually, as Mina gets caught up in her own group of friends, you find yourself in the backyard of Todoroki’s house - the shishi-odoshi hitting the rock and bamboo echoing in the quiet night, the sound of your shoes crunching against the sand underneath your shoes. Todoroki has a little bamboo garden in the corner, fixed with a bench and other flowers whose color reflects off light from the house.

Still cradling the mix Mina had poured for you, you take a seat on the bench.

It feels like you’re sitting there for hours before you hear shoes crunching against the sand. You jolt, whirling in your seat and heart dropping when you see that it’s Midoriya himself making his way towards you.

“M-Midoriya,” you stammer, tearing your gaze away first and staring down at your drink. “Did the party get overwhelming for you too?”

He’s quiet as he takes a seat next to you. “Sort of,” he answers vaguely. “I also noticed that you weren’t with Mina anymore. I guess, I just wanted to see where you were.”

You look at him. “You… knew I was hanging out with Mina?”

He looks back at you. “Of course. I remember that you guys would talk whenever you hung out with my friends. Did you have a good time with her?”

“Y-Yeah, we were just catching up,” you return, laughing softly. “I know it may look like it, but I wasn’t avoiding you or anything.”

“You sure?” Midoriya asks. “Because it felt like every time I tried to look at you, maybe get a hello in or something, you would look away or run away.”

Your hands suddenly feel wet and nervous. “M-Midoriya…”

He sighs. “And that’s another thing. You don’t call me Izuku anymore.” He looks sad again. “I thought we were friends. But you call me by my last name and you avoid me and you…” he trails off, seeming to try and hype himself up for something. “Are you with Kacchan?”

You blink, taken aback. “Am I what?”

He gets nervous again. “Are you… dating Kacchan?”

“No,” you reply dryly. “I’m not with Bakugou. He just drove us straight from the office. You of all people should know that I wouldn’t date my boss…” you cut yourself off, looking back down and frantically trying to figure out a way to end this conversation. “You know,” you say, just speaking words at this point. “You don’t need to be out here keeping me company. I’m sure your hero friends are more important than this,” you try to joke, but it comes out more serious than you were hoping. Your drunken words seem to unveil something unconscious inside of you that you thought you’d move on from. Goddamnit.

Midoriya doesn’t say anything, as the reality of what you’ve said sinks in. You really hadn’t meant for it to come out that way. But here you are: drunk, cold, hurt, and feeling stupid.

So you laugh, a hollow sound. “Wow, how much alcohol did Mina put into this? I better go find her and ask because this shouldn’t be allowed…” You’re standing up from the bench, leaving your drink behind, those internal red lights telling you to run despite your outward attempts to look composed.

In fact, you are about to run because it’s just too awkward. But Midoriya calls your name, softly. And you, always drawn to him, just have to look back.

He stands, slowly walking towards you. “I don’t know why I said those things. But I’ve always felt awful. I just never had the guts to apologize earlier.”

You wring your hands. Was he really taking the bait now? He must have been drinking too. But his gaze is clear enough to tell you he’s taking this seriously, and you’re too scared to run away. So you speak quietly. “I know why you said that. And you do too. It’s because you love your job. You can say that you’re sorry but I’ve always felt like you put everyone else’s needs before mine or yours. So… don’t say you’re sorry. Not if you don’t mean it.”

He’s quiet long enough that you turn around, about to return inside before Midoriya speaks again. “I was being selfish,” he announces, reflective enough to stop you. You turn around. He walks right up to you. “I thought about you everyday while I was gone. Hero work has always been important to me, yes, but you are my dream. You’re who I want to be with, who I want to love. I was stupid to take advantage of that.”

Your lips part, a sensation filling your body. Is it relief? Perhaps, anxiety?

You don’t pull away when his hand reaches out, waiting a moment as if expecting you to pull away. When you do not, he gently cups both your cheek, a movement so soft and warm that your heart melts a little.

But… it doesn’t feel like enough. His touch alone cannot heal the wound you’ve unknowingly covered for a year and a half. Without meaning to, your eyes water. “What… What do you want, Midoriya?”

He exhales softly, brushing a thumb along your cheek. “I just want to be with you.”

That makes the breath catch in your throat, making you realize you are actually torn between that relief and anxiety. Relief that he feels the same. But anxiety because you don’t know if that is enough. “I feel like I’ve waited for you my whole life. But I don’t know if I can believe you.”

His face falls as his eyebrows furrow and he closes his eyes. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes you in, breathes out. “I know,” he whispers. “After all that, I don’t know if I’d believe me either.”

His eyes look disheartened and full of guilt. So much so that you cannot help but gently touch his nose with your own. “I’m not entirely innocent either. I said some mean things to you that night too, and I’m sorry. I should never have said you don’t care - that was wrong of me.”

He pulls away a little, but his hands are still on your cheek. Still sad but a little bit of hope glimmers. “No, you weren’t wrong for saying that. Once things calmed down overseas, Kacchan called me and gave me a lot of shit for what I said to you. I should have stayed, or talked things over with you. I’m sorry.”

You inhale soft, feeling a weight lift off your chest and no longer feeling like you have to make a run for it. “It’s okay.” You smile a little. “I know I just said I’d have trouble believing you. But… I do believe that.”

He laughs a little, more like a tiny exhale. His eyes are carefully watching your face now. “I’m glad.”

Well, you think to yourself, now that everything's out in the open, it’s probably time to ask the important question. “What does this mean for us?”

He hums softly, hands leaving your cheeks. But he does not pull away, likely trying to enjoy this moment as you are. His hands travel down to your waist, keeping you close. “I didn’t say all those things hoping we could try being together again. But I do want to say that…” he thumbs at the skin of your hip, always needing to be touching you. “I’m here. Really. I want to be here for you and for however long it takes you to believe me again.”

Your gaze flickers between his eyes, feeling the sincerity of his confession. “Thank you,” you reply softly. “I want to believe you again, and I want us to work together on that. I just think we need more time.”

It’s neither a full rejection nor a full commitment - but enough where Midoriya grins brightly. “I’ll give you all the time in the world.”

Honestly? At first, you think Midoriya is full of shit. Not in a bad way. Just in a tentative ‘is he really going to follow through’ perspective. You’ve always believed in Midoriya as a person. But considering the history, the daily ins and outs have required a little more work.

Midoriya had been away for a year and a half. You may not know his favorite food anymore or his favorite movie or his favorite song to fall asleep to. But something you haven’t forgotten about him is that Midoriya always tries.

Texts become more frequent, as Midoriya grows more eager to repair that bridge between the two of you. Surface level questions about your day turn back into similar text conversations of how things were when you were dating. He still enjoys checking up on you, asking about your day, and recalling memories that actually make you smile whilst reading them. Despite his behavior, he never actually pushes questions about your relationship.

He trusts you to communicate, just as you start to trust him once more with your thoughts, feelings, and insecurities. You go from pretending to be alright with Midoriya to actually being alright with Midoriya. And it doesn’t fill you with doubt. It leaves you content, happy to be where you are with him.

It comes to a headway about six months after Midoriya returns home - and you get injured at work.

It’s nothing serious. You sprain your ankle after missing a step going down the stairs at the office. Most of the heroes you could have called were out fighting some big villain on the other side of town, so the agency itself was empty of any heroes or sidekicks. Hence, your friend from finance drives you to the hospital. A couple hours of waiting, and you are admitted and immediately given ice packs, a pillow for leg elevation, and a recommendation from the doctor to get an x-ray scan to ensure no broken bones.

You decide to give Kirishimia a call after your x-ray, reassured by the doctor that the turnaround time for the results would take a little over an hour.

You almost regret trying to give him a call, considering what he was doing at the moment, but are surprised to hear him pick up the phone on the last ring. He calls your name, confused. “What’s going on? Is everything okay? I’m still caught up in the fight. More support has arrived so I think it’s wrapping up soon. Luckily we’ve been able to contain the damage but the first aid station is packed right now.”

“Eijiro, I just wanted to let you know that I’m at the hospital. But I’m okay.”

“What? The hospital? What happened? Is everything okay?” Kirishimia calls. “Do you need me to head over there?” A pause. “The police just arrived so I really do thing the fight will be over soon. Not every hero has to be present for the paperwork. I can come over right away.”

“No, don’t,” you say. “I’m fine, it’s just a sprain. I already did the x-ray scan and am waiting to make sure nothing is broken.” You smile. “It’s alright, Eijiro. Focus on what’s more important - protecting the people.”

Kirishima makes a tiny noise of protest, but seems to find some validity to your point. He is needed much more where he is. “Okay, fine. But call me when you hear the results.”

You nod. “I will, thank you.”

He hangs up, leaving you in the silence of the emergency room ward in a bed surrounded by a curtain. The waiting is long, leaving you with only your phone to occupy you. You watch some of the tailend of the big villain fight. Luckily, the damage was limited to just one of the skyscrapers due to all the heroes that rushed onto the scene. You catch sight of some familiar faces, of this echo of green lightning and immediately jump to thoughts about Midoriya. How was he doing? You hope he’s doing alright. He’s supposed to come over tonight, so perhaps you can ask him how he’s doing then. That is, if you’re able to be released from the hospital in time.

You’re about to take a quick nap before you hear the doors to the emergency room fly open. At first, you assume it’s a patient since you are, after all, in the emergency wing. But then someone is exclaiming, “Mr. Deku, please calm down! If you just tell me who you’re looking for, I can tell you where they are. Please don’t disturb the other patients!”

Deku’s name feels like a bolt of electricity running through you as you push yourself up to your forearms, trying hard not to apply pressure to your ankle as your eyes train themselves on the edge of the drawn privacy curtain.

Suddenly, Midoriya appears, wide and imploring eyes that immediately zero in on you with laser sharp focus.

“Midoriya!” you exclaim. “What-?”

“Are you okay?” he asks, quickly walking over to stand next to you. Without warning, he takes your face in his hands. Eyes search your face, likely searching for any signs of anything physically or emotionally out of the ordinary. “What happened? Where did this happen? Who took you here? Did you drive here yourself?”

“Midoriya,” you say carefully, firmly, watching the way he closes his mouth to let him speak. “I’m okay. I just hurt my ankle at the agency. H-How did you know I was here?”

He sighs, releasing his hold on your face. But he moves down to your hand. “Kirishima told me. And… it’s like with anything I do. My body moved on its own and suddenly I was running here.”

You frown up at him. “But weren’t you in the middle of a villain fight? You just left?”

His thumb is rubbing your hand. He shrugs. “We had a lot of help. The damage was at a minimum and things were wrapping up anyways.”

You look down, still lost. “But you love finishing up cases. You love reassuring people and always needing to make sure that other people are okay.”

His movement ceases, a time of silence he takes to kneel next to your bed. “Hey, look at me,” he says softly. You, helpless, look at him. “I know I was really bad at expressing this back when we were together. But I need you to know that you’re part of those people too. Not just that, but you’re the person I want to reassure the most and the person I need to make sure is the most okay. I’m sorry if you were thrown off by my arrival.”

“No, not at all,” you reassure quickly, tightening your hold on his hand. “I was surprised, but in a good way.”

He brightens at that, straightening up and kissing your forehead. “Okay. And I’m glad to see that you’re okay. Are they going to release you soon?”

You nod. “I think so. I got an x-ray, so a doctor will be giving me the report soon. They just want to make sure that nothing is broken.”

Midoriya brings your hand to his chest. “Can I wait here with you?”

You give him a private smile. “I’d like that.”

So Midoriya sits on the bed with you. Neither of you talk about his confession or what it means for the both of you. You just sit and joke around like no time has passed. He’ll occasionally fuss over your ankle, but it doesn’t last long. The doctor comes around and confirms no broken bones. He follows it up with strict orders to rest for the next four to six weeks before allowing you to leave.

The doctor comments about how nice it is for your boyfriend to take time off from heroing to see you off. You smile, hold Midoriya’s hand, and try to sort through the butterflies in your stomach.

Four to six weeks later, you take the subway to Midoriya’s neighborhood. His house is a place you’ve been to once, solely for work purposes so you still have the address on your phone. To be honest, you’re not even sure if Midoriya is home in the middle of the day. It’s Sunday, his new day off (or so he’s told you), so you imagine that he’s likely home resting. You hope so anyways.

Well, only one way to find out. You knock on the door with one hand, using the other to balance the tray of breads and desserts you’ve just picked up from that expensive bakery in the city. If he isn’t home, you might just have to leave it on the front steps…

The door swings open, revealing Midoriya in his casual attire of jeans and a shirt that says SUNDAY on the front.

You make it a point not to stare at the shirt in favor of looking at Midoriya’s frantic look. “Hi,” you greet cheerfully, holding up the box of pastries. “I wanted to bring you something.”

“Baby, what are you doing?” he asks, dragging you in by the waist. “You just got out of the hospital, you shouldn’t be walking right now!” He’s pouting cutely. He’s been more generous with his touches and nicknames since your return to the hospital, and it’s put you on a hopeful high where maybe… perhaps… he’s down to go out and give this another shot.

“I’m fine, Izuku,” you say mindlessly, not trying to fight your way out of his hold. You just hold up that box of pastries. “I was on strict house arrest orders from my boss and got daily visits from a certain someone so not only am I very well-rested, I am antsy. I’m not allowed back at work so it’s only right that I get a little bit of exercise. And I know how much you love this bakery and… are you okay?”

You stop because Midoriya is looking at you with that soft smile on his face - the same kind of smile he’d wear before telling you something important.

“No, it’s nothing,” Midoriya brushes off. He just takes the box from you and rests it on the table near his door. “You just called me Izuku.”

A little bit of your cheerful disposition from before vaporizes. “Oh. Um, yes… I did.” You gaze up at him. You were speaking a little too freely. Even though you and Midoriya are in a really good spot, there are still some things that haven’t been firmly established yet. Like, for example, what the specific label of your relationship was. “Is that too much? It sort of just slipped out, I’m sorry…”

“No, don’t apologize,” he says hastily, wrapping his arms back around you. “I guess with what happened between us and your trip to the hospital… things have just been feeling different.”

“They have!” you say, a little relieved. So his question wasn’t for disappointment, it was just curiosity. Again, you’ve underestimated his kindness and his love for you. But you refuse to back down again. “I… actually came here for another reason.”

His gaze is still trained on you.

You keep your head up. “I’m here to ask you out.”

Midoriya tilts his head, not fully understanding. “You wanna get lunch?”

“No, no, I meant… like, I want to go out with you. Date you. Try being your girlfriend again.”

His eyes widen, bringing you closer to him. “Are you serious? You… you want to try dating? You… believe in me now?”

His words from Todoroki’s party flash in your mind: I just want to be with you.

You nod. “I really believe in the things you’ve been doing to balance your life out more. I know you’re doing those things for yourself, and seeing you make the choice to take a day off or seeing me at the hospital made me happy. It makes me want to try being with you again, knowing that we’ve grown enough to put in our best effort.”

Midoriya smiles at that, big and bright as he cups your cheeks. “I promise you that I’ll never make you regret this.” And you, filled with so much love and hope for this, kiss him. He kisses you back, firm, simultaneously scooping you up in his arms.

You gasp out against his mouth, that shock turning into a fit of giggle. “Izuku, what are you doing?”

“I’m protecting your ankle!” he points out playfully. “Want to come down?”

You pretend to contemplate. He’s lifting you up so easily. “Hmm, actually no. Maybe I’ll just stay here and let you lead the way.”

He leans up towards you, signaling what he wants next. You indulge him easily, leaning down halfway to press your forehead against his. He closes his eyes, breathes you in. “I definitely intend to,” he says.

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