#not to mention I also have to work the late shift today but better than having to work on my bday I suppose 💀

[doberrrman]

birthday tomorrow. regretting making plans to celebrate

[mysindividual]

Unknowingly, his | Aaron Hotchner

requested

MASTERLIST

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem liaison reader

summary: You never fail to make Hotch smile, even in hard times. One late night, when reader comes to his office to do some paperwork with him, he cannot help but catch himself staring at you and wondering if Hayley had the right to be jealous of you

cw: hints of jealous reader, mentions of jealous haley, divorce talk, cheating talk, mutual pinning my beloved <33

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story!

It was 7 in the morning when you entered your dull office with an emphatic unambiguous ugh. You tossed your briefcase and jacket onto the leather couch to your right, closed the door behind you with your heel, walked over to the table and turned on the light. You did a good job rearranging everything last night, but the files you were supposed to audit for the day had already been put on your desk. Though, you needn’t to rush as the team had already gotten a new case when 20 minutes prior you received a call. At least you had already been prepared to come down to your office, all dressed up. The phone call came through just as you were to about to cross your doorstep.

Moaning, you picked up the phone, dialed the number and patiently held for a response. You despised this. After a month, the team had a day off and you weren't expected to have a heavy workload today (also, you could never take a day off when the rest of the team did), so the most noticeably awful thing to do on a day like this for you was to call them back in.

You played with a tangled cord of your telephone when a hoarse voice spoke, "Hotchner” on the other end of the call.

Great, you wondered, was he already awake or did you wake him up. You could name a handful of different better ways of doing so.

"Uh, hi, Hotch." You noticed it was slightly too sweet how you said it. It might have been your way to make the news more appealing, or maybe, his early morning voice made you melt. You could never be certain which is the one.

Before he spoke your name, he cleared his throat and you believed you heard a light peck against his lips and someone’s chuckle.

The butterflies in your stomach died in an instant. Another great thing you had to do this morning.

“I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything,” you said with a wry smile, rolling your eyes, “but I’m afraid I don’t have good news.”

Silence.

It made you glance at the handset you were holding to your ear.

Oh, how you have ruined his day before it even began.

“I figured. Call the rest of the team. I’ll meet you there in 20.” And with that, he ended the call. You could already detect a sudden shift in his tone, could already see a familiar frown appearing on his face.

──────────────────────

It was late at night when you knocked at Aaron's office door. Most of the agents on the sixth floor of the building were already out. Aaron could hear your heels clicking against the floor, echoing in the space before you even entered the bullpen.

"Hey."

A frown was settled on his face as he sat in a large chair behind his desk, his red tie slightly askew on his white-collar shirt, his rolled-up sleeves revealing his bare forearm. You couldn't help but notice that his hair, too, was more disheveled than normal. You tilted your head. If you had the chance, you would stare at him like that for eternity.

When Hotch regarded you with a fleeting gaze and a quick 'come in' in response before resuming to his paperwork and forms, you entered his office with a gentle exhale.

There was no need for questions or instructions as you silently retrieved the documents from your side of the table once you had sat across him.

That was the schedule you used to follow regularly.

Every time a case ended, both of you had to come together and complete the paperwork. At times, you’d spend extra time working together into the late night until you both were barely able to keep your eyes open, whilst other times it didn't take as long. Even though some might argue that it was not the perfect scenario - staying up late with your boss - those times when you had to be silent and be in close proximity to him were calming and almost sufficient to fuel your bizarre attraction that began the moment you first laid eyes on him. It was constantly shifting, influenced by mood changes from both of you. You were never afraid to express your strong opinion even if it didn’t parallel his, never afraid to speak for yourself, but you were also the one that spent most time with him, knew him better than the rest of the team, even had the most in common. The team referred to you as Hotch’s soft spot (not to his knowing, of course). In spite of being one of the youngest members of the team, if another member messed something up, they’d hide behind you, ask you to talk some sense into Hotch. To him, you could never do wrong. He was always a little bit blind to your faults. And you, obviously, weren’t oblivious to that. Not that you took advantage of it, or to be quite frank never a serious one. You could notice how one look, one ‘Hotch?’, one ‘please?’ could make him easily change his mind no matter who stood on the other end of the topic. You still remember when Penelope first started working with the team, and the first time she saw you two together - you saw a ‘?!?’ above her head. She asked if you were the wife.

And then, on the other side, there was a wife. Hotch was married, and you knew his little family - Haley and their son, so you never thought about breaking that boundary. As such, you were very adept at playing the game of hot and cold when it came to Hotch. Even if he weren’t someone’s husband, there was still a bit of an age gap between the two of you, and let’s not forget Aaron Hotchner’s professionalism. He was your boss after all, and in all your mind, you just firmly believed Aaron would never allow himself such a thing.

While you filled out the forms, you noticed something quite different tonight. Hotch had complete trust in you, he was aware of where your loyalties laid. You'd been on the same team for a few years in a row now, during which he would occasionally sign certain documents prior to you completing them. However, tonight was different. Tonight, he appeared unenthusiastic about returning home early to maximize the limited time his job allowed him to spend with his family.

“What’s wrong?” You inquired, feigning ignorance of his eyebrows raising towards you.

He shook it off, replied with a stock ‘Nothing’.

Neither of you seemed to stop whatever you were writing down.

“We’ve spent way too much time together. If you think I wouldn’t notice,” you eyed him. “You are wrong, boss.”

Aaron’s eyes finally really met yours for the very first time tonight. He leaned back in his seat comfortably, arms resting on armrests. “Are you a profiler now?”

“I might be one,” you mused, leaning back in your seat, crossing your legs as you put your pen aside. “Perhaps I have picked up a few skills working with the best.”

He surveyed you, a smile playing in the corner of his lips.

Aaron Hotchner - the profiler - never misses anything.

“In any case, I believed we had agreed not to profile each other,” he spoke gently.

You expressed gratitude to God for that. Would he, then, realize the extent of a crush you had for him in those little moments and mood changes? Was he just as unaware of that as any other man even though Aaron Hotchner was not just any man? You, in rare cases of boredom, would wonder what he really thought of you. Did he think it was just your personality - being all flirty and smiley, with everyone?

“I’m not profiling you, Hotch.” You reassured him. “It’s just… Would you not ask me if I were fine if you’d noticed?”

“Yes, I would.”

“And you’d want me to tell the truth?”

He nodded slightly in response.

Your eyebrows snapped together. “Then?”

As soon as the thought of Haley came back into his mind, his expression fell serious, his smile faltered.

He couldn't believe that Haley could possibly be jealous of any of his colleagues. After being together for years, he believed she would have had more insight, would known him better than that. For months now, that had not been the case. They practically turned into strangers who occasionally had to share the same bed. Even though he didn't realize it then, after the final confrontation and some calm reflection, everything became clear. Although the very thought of losing Haley was unknown… painful.

That morning when y/n called him, the moment Haley was waking him up in bed with her kisses, he called out your name. They both got carried away in the heat of the moment, not realizing that the call was indeed coming at his work number.

He recalled the way she gazed at him then - disappointed more than anything else - she shook her head and pushed him aside, getting up from the bed and putting on her robe. After the call had ended, he wanted to explain to Haley but what she said to him petrified him.

“It's always work, and it's always her, and you always go running like a dog whenever she calls you!”

He was upset, offended. However, he was fully aware that Haley was determined to find a way to bring their relationship to an end, regardless of his actions, whether positive or negative.

Aaron remembered then the call to the home telephone which he had picked, but was welcomed with silence before that someone hang up on him. And then Haley's mobile rang. He knew. He knew then, in that shared gaze with Haley. But regardless of all that, Aaron wanted one more chance, at least for their son Jack, who needed a united family more than anything else.

“Haley and I are getting divorced.” He spoke, not realising you had been back to signing the documents whilst he was busy in his thoughts.

“What?”

That took you by a surprise. You would have never guessed it. Yes, you shared glances with the rest of the team while working on the last case, noticing how something bothered Hotch, how slightly distracted he was. You could have notice how quiet he was on your way back home in the jet, not engaging in a conversation with anyone, with you. Yes, you all have guessed he had an argument with Haley having to leave for work again when he’d finally had a day off, but divorce… No one believed the two of them would ever divorce.

“I’m so sorry, Hotch.”

“For a while it has been… different. I guess there’s nothing I could do about that now, nothing to change the situation we have gotten into.” He spoke as if though he hadn’t heard you, his dark eyes distant in a dim lighting. “I tried.”

You didn’t want to pry. You needed not to know what happened - their reason, whatever it might have been, was sufficient. You didn't believe it was Haley's fault, nor his fault. You could understand both of them. It was indeed a rather challenging one. Only a handful of individuals could understand the job you have chosen to do, sometimes it made you wonder if you’d ever find anyone that would.

Unless it was someone doing the same job, the chances were relatively small. Reid could give his statistics on this one, you’d remind yourself to ask.

“I know, Hotch.” You reached out instinctively, your hand over his, slightly squeezing. He did not move or flinch, his eyes shifting to where the contact was. The hand under your palm was warm, simultaneously rough and soft. His wedding ring was reverberating a tiny bit of coldness against your skin. “And I know you. I know you would never just quit. You don’t deserve this. And I’m really so so sorry.”

“I’m not ideal. Haley has every right. I’m more gone than present, more a boss than a husband.” He sighed, pondering. “My own marriage’s been in trouble and needed saving, but I wasn’t able to admit it and help myself, help us. I wonder how I still keep this job.”

“Don’t take it too hard on yourself, ok? It’s never just one side, but it does get better. I promise. At least that much I know of. If there’s anything I can do…”

“You are here. Listening.”

You once again felt noticed as his intense yet somehow gentlest of gaze met yours. You loved that about Aaron, the ways he could make you feel in just seconds - you could be all platonically giggly and flirty with him in one, but in the next moment when he would regard you with that look in his eyes, one word, one smile - the world would stop, you could only hear your heart beating, his presence only existing. And it scared you.

It should have been just a banal crush.

You withdrew your hand from his at the thought, clearing your throat to cover a moment that was… profound, finding sudden interest in the documents again. “I can complete this by the end of night, you can-“

“No.” He cut you off, sighing as the documents on his desk filled his sight again. “It’s fine. I don’t have anywhere to be in particular tonight. I have to finish this by morning…”

His brows raised once his eyes met yours again before he added, whispering. “And I could use some company.”

Or preferably, he could use your company.

“Ah, Strauss… The woman knows how to keep her employees in dislike of her.” You stated, averting your gaze from his eyes, taking another file from atop of others. “You should give her some tips.”

A soft chuckle escaped his throat, breaking the silent grimness that spread in the room.

“Since this is gonna be one hell of a night...” You put your hands on the armrests, ready to stand up. It was an attempt to run, reflect, calm down. “Anything you want me to get you?”

“Actually, I’m about to get some coffee. Would you like some?”

“Well, if we must finish all this work…” You nodded, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, we have to.”

“Ok.” He said in a soft-spoken manner, rising to his feet, and then pointed his finger at you in a manner similar to scolding a child. “But don’t doze off on me again. I’ll be right back.”

You put your hands up in defiance.

When he passed next to you, you followed him with your gaze out of the office. His perfume barely reached up your nostrils and you slumped in your seat, eyes closed, your breath shuddering.

That was close.

And about that… It wouldn’t be your first time. The team was amazed by your ability to fall asleep literally anywhere - desk, bench, floor, cinema, waiting rooms - you name it.

The first time Aaron found about this talent of yours was after the case. You went to check out of the hotel with the rest of the team, and while waiting for others in the lobby seated on a bar stool with your arms crossed, you fell asleep. He was quite taken aback, or rather impressed as well as everyone else, to see you dozing off while seated. On your way home, the team occasionally made jokes about it, but what stood out to you the most was that Hotch was also very engaged in them.

“Thank you.” He said once he returned to his office and put your cup of coffee before you.

You locked eyes with him, offering a small smile. “You are always very welcome.”

Taking a break from work, you took a sip. Just how you liked it. How attentive. Not that it was surprising. “And I suppose I should thank you.”

He lifted the cup in his hand to his lips but halted before taking a sip, his tongue gliding over his lips. You stared, hypnotized. “I’m sorry? Thank me for what exactly?”

“Yeah, you know…” Nervous, you offered him a report you’d just finished hoping he didn’t catch that. He reached forward to take it. “For indirectly acknowledging that seeing my name on your phone on a day off is not the most pleasant thing. I suppose I am bad news.”

“It’s a rather heavy subject, you know.” He replied in a professional tone, his eyes glued on the paper.

“Well, we’ve got all night.” You joked, throwing your hands in the air.

His eyes softened upon meeting yours once again. “I didn’t say that, and no, you aren’t.”

You lifted your brow at him. And then, there was that crooked grin on your face, teasing him to admit.

He observed you for a moment. “Sometimes, yes.” He succumbed to your will once again, before signing the report, concealing his own smile from you.

[dollyhyuckii]

၇୧ ENHYPEN AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ˖ ་.

CONTENT — wc • 1.4k fem!reader. lowercased intended. established relationship, boyfriend enhypen 𐔌͡ㅤׅㅤㅤ✿ written with love by autum!

秋のメモ… ︵ ︵ ིྀ first enhypen story on this blog!!, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!, hope you enjoy!!

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、HEESEUNG

˖ ་. AFFECTION : heeseung would be a playful blend of playful and romantic, he’d would often tease you with his little remarks, laughing when you get flustered, but he’d also know when to shift into his serious, caring side. when you’re upset, he’d hold you close and he would always try to make you feel better “im here for you baby, always. don’t forget that”

˖ ་. ACTS OF LOVE : he’s the type to know the smallest details about you, your favorite snacks, the way you like your coffee, or the littlest things that make you happy. everyday you always find a handwritten note tucked in your bag that always reads “good luck today!, you’re amazing baby, I love you!”

˖ ་. MUSIC BONDING : late at night, he’d pull out his guitar and start playing softly. “wanna hear something ive been working on pretty?” he’d ask, singing lyrics that seemed to be written just for you. those private concerts would make you feel like the most special person in the world.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、JAY

˖ ་. PROTECTIVE : jay would always make sure you’re safe, whenever it’s walking you home or ensuring you’re eating well. “text me when you get there okay princess?, i just want to make sure you’re alright” he’d say, his voice filled with genuine concern

˖ ་. FOOD ENTHUSIAST : jay would thrive in the kitchen, cooking you your favorite meals and teaching you some of his family’s recipes. “no, no like this princess” he’d say, guiding your hands as you tried to cut the vegetables. even when the dish doesn’t turn out as perfectly as you wanted he’d laugh and say, “baby.. it’s the effort that counts yeah?”

˖ ་. THOUGHTFUL : you always find small or even big thoughts gifts waiting for you, like roses on your doorstep, taking you out to dinner, or even having a playlist full of songs that reminded him of you. he would also have a beautiful journal with a heartfelt note inside. “i saw this princess and i thought of you” he explained, smiling warmly.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、JAKE

˖ ་. GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY : jake would bring you so much positivity and support into your life. “pretty, you know you’re incredible, right?” he’d say, his eyes sparkling with pride, whenever you accomplish something, or every time you talked. jake was so in love with you, and would do anything for you.

˖ ་. CLINGY : jake always wanted to be near you at all times and was always ready for whenever you two cuddled after a long day. “c’mere pretty girl, you look like you need a hug” he’d say, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly. whenever it’s holding hands while walking or resting his head on your shoulder, he would constantly seek that physical connection

˖ ་. BEING TOGETHER : jake wants to be with you all the time, which makes him plan adventures or little dates just to be with you, like midnight drives to watch the stars or little picnic at the park when it’s nice outside. “you know pretty, life is much more fun when we’re just together?” he’d say , snapping a photo of you to capture the memory’s

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、SUNGHOON

˖ ་. COOL BUT SOFT : at first, sunghoon might seem reserved and quiet but that’s really not him, as he opens up, you’d see his sweet and thoughtful side of him. “i-i .. wasn’t staring m i was just.. you look nice today baby..” he’d say as he looked away, as he got caught staring at you.

˖ ་. SUBTLE AFFECTION : sunghoon would sometimes quietly show his love in actions rather than words. lending his jacket without being asked knowing that your cold, or fixing something you mentioned in passing would be his way saying “i care about you” sunghoon is always listening, even if you don’t realize.

˖ ་. ICE SKATING DATES : a trip to the ice skating rink will always be a regular date for you two. he’d patiently teach you blow to skate , even if your paranoid ever 2 minutes about falling, or him not holding you tightly. “baby.., don’t worry i got you okay, im not going to let go” he’d say, smiling as you nervously wobbled on the ice.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、SUNOO

˖ ་. SUNSHINE IN HUMAN FORM : sunoo would always know how to cheer you up and make you feel better. “don’t be sad.., your to beautiful for that, let me make you feel better beautiful.” flashing his pretty smile at you and pulling you into a big hug, just trying to make you feel better.

˖ ་. AESTHETIC: he’d take you out to the most beautiful cafes and parks that he would find, always ensuring every date or outing you two go on it felt magical and you had the most wonderful time. “this place is so pretty.., just like you beautiful” he’d say, as you smack his arm playfully calling him cheesy for his words.

˖ ་. GREAT LISTENER: sunoo would be the person that you could always go and talk to, you go to him when you need advice, your sad, you need someone to talk to, or when you just want to be near him. “go on beautiful, im listening.” he’d say holding your hand and offering advice that made you feel comfortable and understood

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、JUNGWON

˖ ་. NATURAL LEADER : jungwon would naturally take care of you, always making sure you’re healthy and safe, you always come first before anything and everything. “have you eaten something today baby? no?, let me order something for you” he’d say, his concern evident in his tone.

˖ ་. PLAYFUL : jungwon would always love to tease you in a lighthearted way, always aiming to make you laugh, and of course you always did. “oh?, you think your funnier then me baby?, that’s cute.. i guess we’re going to have to see who’s more funny yeah?” he’d say with a cheeky grin.

˖ ་. DATES : he’d always enjoy spending quiet nights with you. it could be such as building blankets forts together or cooking meals together, whatever it was it would build your bond closer. “did i ever tell you, these are my favorite dates” he admitted, holding your hand as you two continue to watch the movie together.

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི 、NIKI

˖ ་. PLAYFUL AND FUN : you always had fun around niki, he would always bring out his endless energy and laughter to your relationship. “you’re so bad at this game, it’s almost impressive baby” he tease, but you and him both know he’d always let you win in the end, just to see you smile.

˖ ་. GAMING BUDDY : playing video games together would always be a regular occurrence. “you wanna team up or battle baby?, either way you’re going down” he’d joke with you, loving ever moment of your competitive side.

˖ ་. SOFT SIDE : despite his playful side and always teasing you, he would also have a tender side that he would let out when he’s see something is wrong. “hey baby.., are you okay?, you know you can talk to me about anything” he’d say softly, his usual energy shifting into genuine care whenever you needed it.

[crossingthedreams]

do better — gregory house x f!reader

a/n: I got a little carried away, per usual, and now I’m late with day 04 of the angstober challenge (still a wyp), but I plan on finishing it and posting later today. but, omg, I can’t believe I'm posting day 05 — do better on time! this is also part of @angstober‘s challenge, which I'm having a blast writing. I do love some angsty vibes. please, feel free to comment or dm me!

summary: a relationship between the boss and his employee has a million ways to go wrong. one, in particular, hurt them the most. 

word count: 2.2k

warnings: angst. House is an asshole. mentions of family death. mentions of cancer. struggles with immigration. inappropriate relationship. mentions of smut.

Let medicine be thy food. 

That's the quote, or at least you think it is. After a particularly long shift, words in English seemed to scramble together a bit, with it being your second language and all. Usually, you’re a natural, perfect, fluent speaker. There are moments, however, when understanding what your peers are saying or formulating cohesive sentences becomes a herculean task. You didn’t make yourself unintelligible, but it was a little awkward to be with a patient who clearly had no idea how globalized the world was and how many doctors in the United States were not native English speakers, and who looked at you like you had just robbed the white coat from a “proper doctor”.

Sure, dealing with people was shitty sometimes. “Doctors don’t treat people, they treat illnesses”, your boss had once said. But in your mind, people weren’t that bad. The long hours, the sleep deprivation, the lack of a social life — that was the really bad part. And there were, of course, the very short lunch breaks. 

Medicine was fun, but it had nothing on a full plate of pasta with those weird looking meatballs. What once was disgusting, now seemed appetizing as hell. Not eating once while working for the whole night could do that to a person. Medicine was not food, at least not literally.

You had taken off your sweater and your white coat a while before going to the cafeteria, where the rest of the team was. As of right now, you and Chase had spent thirty-six hours working. Cameron and Foreman had taken the long straws and gone home last night while you and the prettiest doctor around worked on some lab tests. 

That man who, right now, was not really trying to hide how he lustfully eyed you up and down, stopping on your cleavage. You didn’t blame him for looking, though. Firstly, you did spend the night working together and you mentioned that you did not have sex for the last six months, and secondly, you had nice boobs, which was both a blessing and a curse. Also, he was very much exhausted. Thinking about your coworkers in an unfashionable manner to keep awake was better than falling asleep atop of a patient during a lumbar puncture — you had done both, so you could tell, oops. 

“I’ll die if I have to do any more thinking”, the pretty doctor said, accent even more prominent, letting his head drop to the headrest of his seat behind him. 

“Yes, thinking just doesn’t come naturally to some people”, you laughingly replied, sitting down next to Foreman. He scooched over, making more room for you and your tray. There was enough pasta on your plate to feed two, not to mention the salad, the dessert, the can of Coke and the can of energy drink. 

“Damn, kid, do you not have food at home?” You eyed Foreman, a little annoyed at the comment. Why did men think they had the right to comment on women’s food choices and bodies all the damn time? “Don’t give me that look, you know that’s a lot, especially for a girl who skips lunch every other day”. 

“Not by choice” you said, taking a lot of pasta into your mouth. “Nof ba chos”, you replied, mouth full, making everyone at the table let out a tired laugh. 

It was an uneventful meal. The team was really tired, especially Chase, who almost dropped his head on his plate twice. The four of you rushed upstairs when lunch was over, after being paged by your boss. 

The man himself was pacing back and forth in the conference room, brows furrowed and looking extremely aggravated. Nothing new, then, you think, sitting down across from Cameron. 

Allison Cameron and you had been friends since med school, and getting to work together was pretty nice. Women in STEM need each other, of that you were sure. The thing is, she was in a weird place romantically, which made you feel weird about getting along with the people about whom she was confused — which hardly makes sense, but it is what it is. She had a crush on your boss for the longest time, and that didn’t work out at all. And then there was Chase, who she had slept with, but had no interest in further pursuing. 

Hanging out with Chase knowing he’d seen her naked was a little weird, but the fact they’d slept together wasn’t the problem. He liked her, and that was her problem. Your boss, well, he was everybody’s problem. 

Particularly yours, considering… you know. The one-night-that-became-every-night. The HR-nightmare. The doing-the-devil’s-tango. The seeing-each-other-scars. The kissing-and-absolutely-not-telling.

It was fairly easy sneaking around. He was inappropriate, sure, but not big on PDA. He treated you like any other dumbass employee with boobs. If anyone saw the two of you leaving the hospital together? You worked together. If you were seen going towards the same place? You’re neighbors, duh. And if anyone happened to see the two of you having breakfast together in the little café a block around his place? Well, it was a coincidence meeting him there! 

If they saw you giving him head while he tried to play the piano, well… There’s no explanation for that. 

You looked at him coming and going, and you knew his leg must be killing him. Yesterday when you left his home in the morning to pick up your stuff for the day (which turned out to be the day, the night and the next day), he was popping more pills than usual. Shit. 

“New case?”, Cameron asked, looking at the limping man with worry and care in her eyes. You liked her a lot, but she had to stop thinking about your limping man with such care. 

Sure, she liked him first. And she probably worried for him just as she would anyone else. And it was ridiculous to be annoyed at your long-time friend for caring for her boss. Still, there was a sting of jealousy that made you want to bitch-slap her. 

He finally stopped and looked at all of you. When his eyes finally met you, he looked right at your low cut top and let out a “Yowza!”. When you blushed and stood up to pick your white coat, he called your last name, and said, nonchalantly: “Nice boobs”. 

You raised a hand to pinch at the bridge of your nose as you sat down. It might seem like sexual harassment — and at first, it was a little bit —, but now it was just him being as inappropriate as always. Hiding from his feelings, keeping his distance with pathetic remarks and cold attitudes. It made you sad when you started working for him, but right now, you pinched your nose to stop you from giggling like a sixteen year old cheerleader being noticed by the boy on the football team. Or rather, the boy on the bench cursing at the stupid players.

Dr. Gregory House had a massive crush on you, and that made all the shit he did go away. 

You realized Chase started updating House on the patient you spent all night testing and monitoring. Truth is, that guy didn’t stand a chance for a normal life here on forward. At best, he had a benign hereditary chorea. Worst case scenario, it was Huntington manifesting earlier than it should, as you’d been saying from the beginning. 

“Shut up”, House said to Chase, making those blue Australian eyes widen. Poor guy, he looked beyond exhausted. “I understand how DNA testing works. I went to med school too, remember?”

“Yeah, but that was seven hundred years ago”, you let out before you could think twice. You teased House a little for being older. Scratch that, you gave him a lot of crap for being older. You just didn’t do it in front of the team, which was why they all looked at you horrified. 

Horrified, but Foreman was holding in a laugh.

The ‘old-man’ hit his cane on the desk, turning the attention back to him. “Ouch”.

You smiled, playing it off like a remark made by an exhausted overworked young woman who disliked her boss. House half-screamed some orders to all of you, even though he already knew you had clinic duty. 

The hours left to finish on the clinic were manageable, so you could finish it after you did some of the tests House asked.  

Time passed by too quickly, and as your day went by, you remembered you had to talk to Wilson as soon as possible. It wasn’t a life or death matter, but a peace of mind kind of thing. You decided to stop by his office before you It was then that you overheard something you shouldn’t have.

Well, that brought the high school memories right back. 

It was the middle of the afternoon, also known as the beginning of your third shift in a row, and you were stopping by Wilson’s office to discuss a private matter. A family member of yours had cancer, and then another one. By the time your fourth relative came down with the diagnosis, you decided to check your genetic predisposition. Although the tests came back clean, meaning you were safe for oncology purposes, you still wanted to know his opinion on how you could be even safer.

You looked cancer in the eyes many times. You didn’t want to look at it in the mirror too. 

For some godly reason, you stopped before knocking. That’s when you recognized your boss’s voice, complaining about something, per usual. 

“She’s a baby! She had never watched Grease, for crying out loud”, the voice and the footsteps made their sounds in harmony. You leaned in closer to the door, to try and listen better. 

“Well, you two barely know each other, now it’s the time to know if there’s a future in this relationship or not. And would you ever marry her?”, Wilson’s voice, and the words made you freeze. 

“Not everyone has marriage on the brain 24/7, Wilson”, House replied. Even from behind the door, you could almost hear the engines in his brain turning. “And God, no. I could never marry her. I can do better than a gullible third-world princess”.

You froze.

Of course he’d say that. Of course. Even if he didn’t mean it. 

The realization came like an electrical shock flowing through your body. You felt it, and it made the hairs on the nape of your neck rise. 

You meant nothing to him. 

As an immigrant, the feeling of never belonging is constant. You don’t belong in the place you now live, but you don’t really belong in the place you were born. 

You had felt for a fraction of a second that you could find your place here. In House's department. Perhaps, even with House. God, you were stupid. You were a device for him to finish his puzzles, and an object to finish… Well, to finish himself off. 

As you left your transe and heard the voices again, you ran as fast as you could back to the clinic, where you had a couple hours left to finish. There was something you needed to arrange with Cuddy, too. 

Hours later, you were in the department’s room reading some exams when House walked in. 

He eyed you up and down again, eyes lingering on your breasts a little longer than a boss’ eyes normally would. “So”, he took his bootle from his jacket and opened it, popping a couple of pills, “your place or mine?” 

“You suck”, you murmured, angrily, but pouting a little. He’d never admit it, but he loved seeing you a little aggravated, crossing your arms in front of your body in a way that made your already eye-catching torso irresistible. 

He smiled a little, putting the medicine back in his pocket. “No, sweetheart”, he now fully grinned, “that’s you.”

You rolled your eyes, but let your arms fall and a cold smile creeped into your face. 

“Yes, I do, actually”, you rose up from the chair and walked all the way towards him, hitting your hand towards his chest and pressing the paper you were holding against him. “I’m a full on sucker, and ass-kisser, as you like to point out. That’s why your so called mortal enemy offered me a job in New York”. 

He took the paper, blue eyes never leaving yours. 

“Consider this my two weeks notice”. It was hard to say, but it felt a little good, too. Logically, there were no downsides in this opportunity. Then, why did it hurt so much? “I guess everyone was right. I can do better”.

The double meaning was not lost on House. 

Your hand finally left his chest, and he didn’t look back as you left. 

Looking at it now, it all seems so simple. It never is, though, is it? Especially with House. And you, an intelligent, kind, talented and ambitious young woman, could definitely do better than attach yourself to a crippled, bitter, odious older man. 

You were doing better now. So, why, pray tell, why did this still hurt so much? 

[spideystevie]

bad for business

summary: steve’s good for your heart but he’s really bad for business word count: 4.5k a/n: me every time i post after being mia for months: who’s missed me! this was technically supposed to be inspired by bad for business by sabrina carpenter and then suddenly it wasn’t. not even sure there’s much of a plot but alas! also feel a little rusty at this right now, it’s been a while since i’ve really written anything but i’ve missed steve a crazy insane amount. love you, miss you, hope you all enjoy this <3

You’re late. You’re never late. 

The bell above the door to Dottie’s jingles as you hurry inside. Your fingers work on muscle memory to tie your apron around your waist as you slide through the mismatched seating arrangements inside the diner to get to the back office. 

You’re not sure if the way your stomach flips is from it being full of a single gulp of coffee or because it’s more than an hour past when you should’ve been here. The time punch on your card reads 9:07 am and your stomach lurches. Definitely not the coffee. 

It’s a Sunday, arguably your busiest day in the diner and arguably the worst day for you to show up like this. No doubt Dottie has noticed but you’re hoping against hope that she didn’t. God, what are you going to tell her?

Sorry Dottie! My super hot, super charming boyfriend wouldn’t let me out of bed this morning! Won’t happen again! 

Your face feels warm, like you’ve just spent an extensive amount of time in the sun in the middle of July. You knew you shouldn’t have stayed over last night, but you were so tired and Steve’s couch is way more comfier than yours. It really doesn’t help that his bed isn’t any different. 

“Lots of traffic this morning?” you jump, notepad falling out of your hand. Susan starts to snicker as you drop down to pick it up. There’s a smirk on her face when you rise to full height. Her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail and her name tag is crooked on her apron. You’re not sure you’d consider Susan one of your closest friends but you find yourselves pulled together considering she’s the only other young person working here. 

“Oh you know…,” your voice rises in pitch and you clear your throat, hitching one shoulder up to your ear in a shrug. “Sometimes you just hit every red.”

Susan’s eyes narrow. There’s only one working light on your usual route to work. Coming from Steve’s adds only two. Not to mention, you didn’t drive yourself today. Steve dropped you off, promising to pick you up at 4 on the dot when your shift ended. Susan pops her gum in her mouth, not convinced with your fib.

“Right.”

“Yeah. Now if you’ll excuse me, Cliff is waiting for me in his usual booth,” you hurry past before she can ask you anything incriminatory. You hear Dottie before you see her, on your way to grab the coffee pot. 

“You feeling okay, sweetie? You’re normally here right on the dot. An hour isn’t like you.”

Dottie’s older than most and she’s been running the diner outside Hawkins for a whopping 30 years now. She hangs out behind the counter and loves to chat with the regulars and get to know those just passing through. With rosy cheeks and gray streaked hair almost always pulled out of her face in a bun, she’s almost like another mom with how long you’ve been working here. 

You snag the excuse she basically throws you out of the air. 

“Had a bit of a rough night, but I’m feeling a lot better now, Dot. Didn’t realize I had overslept until I heard the birds chirping outside. It won’t happen again,” you say. 

You didn’t oversleep actually. Whatever natural circadian clock inside of you wakes you up at almost the same time every workday but Steve can be quite convincing when he wants to be. Your heart does a little sigh of his name. Steve. You swallow and try to blink away the image of him.

Dottie gives you a sympathetic smile with a concerned tilt of the head, taking your flustered mannerisms and the way you wipe your palms against the sides of your jeans as lingering symptoms of whatever she thinks ailed you last night. She squeezes your bicep, the press of her mixed metal rings cool against your skin.

“Take it easy today, okay? You let me know if you need anything.”

“Course, Dottie. Thank you,” you give her a smile and grab the coffee pot. 

Cliff sits at the same spot every morning. A little booth along the window wall, three down from the door to the diner. He looks a bit rough around the edges, his coat well loved and worn and his hands weathered from years of hard work. He’s worn the same baseball cap every time you’ve seen him and he’s always got a copy of the morning paper open and propped in front of his face. 

He spots you out of the corner of his eye and scoots his empty mug closer to the table’s edge. You smile and pour the coffee, leaving enough room for his two packets of Sweet ‘n’ Low to be stirred in. 

“Anything new this morning, Cliff?” 

You’ve only known Cliff on his own, but you know he used to come with his late wife Winnie for coffee every morning before she passed. He’d summarize the big news and events and she’d do the crosswords on the back. Now, you let him summarize to you and he leaves the paper on the table for you. You do the crosswords on your break. 

“Same old, same old. They’re thinking about rebuilding the mall that burned down in Hawkins a few summers ago. You hear anything about that?” He sets the paper down to the right of his coffee mug and grabs two pink packets of sweetener. You watch him tear the paper and pour them in. When he looks at you, you shake your head. 

“First time I’m hearing of it. My boyfriend used to work there before it…you know,” you mention, unable to stop the morsel of information from slipping out. A twinkle sparks in Cliff’s eye, a small smile on his face as he diverts his attention back to his mug. The spoon he’s stirring with clinks against the coffee stained ceramic walls. 

“Are you ever gonna bring this boyfriend of yours around here so I can actually see that he’s real?” He’s teasing, tapping the handle of the spoon against the rim of the mug and setting it in the gap between the coffee and the newspaper. You roll your eyes but a smile lifts your cheeks. 

“I don’t know if that’d be too good for business around here,” you joke. 

“And was he the reason you were late giving me my coffee this morning?” He's quick to cover his smirk with the coffee mug as he takes a sip. Your mouth falls agape and you fluster, shaking your head and laughing shakily. 

“Ha ha, very funny, Cliff. No, he was not. There was traffic!” Cliff makes a face at this and you don’t blame him. Has the traffic excuse ever worked for living in a small town, you wonder. “And I had a rough night and accidentally overslept, is all.”

He grabs his morning paper again and opens it up. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

The rest of the morning starts to fly by in a blur. You recite your favorites off the menu to a couple passing through from Chicago. Refill Cliff’s coffee twice, each time dodging whatever he tries to insinuate about your tardiness this morning. Sneak an extra pancake onto little Sofie’s plate with a wink. The early morning breakfast rush blows through and things start to quiet down. 

You’re wiping down the table adjacent to Cliff’s booth. His mug is empty and he’s left the paper for you like usual. The bell rings as he opens the door to leave. 

“See you tomorrow, Cliff!” you call after him and he raises a hand in a wave as he walks through the door, thanking the young man that holds it for him. 

You have to do a double take as you swipe the paper off the table. It’s not just any young man in passing holding the door, no it’s Steve coming inside Dottie’s. It’s Steve standing at the entrance in his usual Levi’s and a white tee with sleeves that seem to strain around his biceps with windswept hair and a bright smile when he sees you. 

There goes your heart again with the sigh of his name. Steve. Though maybe this time you think it was your voice instead, airy and soft. You can’t believe he’s here. It’s nowhere near 4’o’clock. You’re aware of Dottie’s eyes on you behind the counter and Susan’s from across the diner and nearly every regular scattered about as well. 

Your knees wobble at the sight of him, the disbelief fading away and giddy smile falling into place as he meets you next to Cliff’s booth. Cliff, who’s standing outside the diner and staring and you worry he might come back inside to hound you and insist you introduce him, but he doesn’t. 

Steve wraps an arm around your waist, fingers hot against the side of your stomach through the layers of your apron and shirt, and dips to press a kiss to your cheek in greeting. There’s a rush of a swoon that goes down to your toes, the bulk of it getting stuck in your abdomen and swirling like crazy.

You’re in the middle of a greasy old diner but Steve’s somehow tucked you away from prying eyes and into your own little safety bubble. He’ll be the death of you one day. Your heart’ll just keep expanding until it can’t fit inside your ribcage anymore and has no choice but to explode from adoration and kill you. 

“What are you doing here?” you wonder aloud, eyes scanning all around his face, taking in every freckle and crinkle and mole. You pause for a minute on his lips and then you blink and find his eyes. He’s smiling at you, in a way that tells you he caught that and you feel struck by that feeling of being caught in the July sun again. He looks around the diner and everyone’s attention goes back to what they were doing before.

“Thought I’d surprise you! Also, it’s supposed to rain later and you didn’t take a jacket so I brought you one.”

Only then do you notice the gray fabric in his other hand and your heart twists and flips and oh god, you think this might be the moment it explodes. He presses it into your hands, the newspaper crinkling against it. 

“What’s that?” he asks as you go to thank him. Your brow cinches for a minute before it smooths in comprehension.

“Oh! Cliff,” you point towards the door he’d just walked through, “one of the regulars, leaves the paper behind for me every morning so I can do the crosswords. A little tradition we’ve got going on.”

“A tradition? Should I be concerned?” He jokes and you laugh. 

“Oh, definitely. Cliff’s your biggest competition,” you throw back and now it’s his turn to laugh. A glittering light fills your chest. You glance over to where Dottie is engaged in conversation with a middle aged woman just passing through. She can’t hear you from this far but you drop your voice nonetheless. “No but, he did give me a bit of a hard time about his coffee being almost an hour late this morning.”

At your pointed look and sly smile, Steve winces, fingers pressing a quick squeeze against your side. An embarrassed blush blooms on his cheeks, bridging across his nose. “Right. Sorry.”

“Forgiven,” you lean up to press the quickest flash of a kiss to his cheek. You wrap your arms around the newspaper and jacket, holding them to your chest. “Do you wanna sit for a minute? I can get you some coffee? Although be warned, Dottie might come up and talk to you.”

His arm drops from around your waist and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, coffee sounds great.”

You smile and motion him into Cliff’s booth. When he sits, he insists on holding onto the jacket and newspaper for you and you let him. He watches you take Cliff’s mug away and walk to Dottie behind the counter to get him a fresh one.

Dottie bumps her hip with yours as you pass and you give her a look. The pot’s nearly empty and you wait the few minutes it takes for it to fill, eyes catching on Steve while you wait. He’s stopped staring and has instead taken interest in the comics in the paper. 

“He’s handsome,” Dottie’s voice snaps you back into your senses. You glance at her and she’s got a special look in her eyes to match the smile on her face. You check the coffee pot that’s filling up quicker than normal. But your focus drifts back over to Steve, who senses your gaze and looks over to you and flashes a big grin. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, “he is.”

Dottie looks between the two of you and then takes a look around the diner. It’s not the usual Sunday hustle and bustle, post early breakfast rush and the impending rain could be the indicator for that. She's got Susan and Judy’ll be coming in any minute now and Pam right after at 12. When she looks back at you, you’re watching the last few drops of coffee fall into the pot. 

“Take the rest of the day,” Dottie says. Your eyes snap up to meet hers over the coffee pot between you.

“What?”

“Go sit and have coffee with that boy of yours and then go home,” it doesn’t sound like a suggestion, more like an order but you look around the diner and hesitate. 

“Dottie, it's Sunday. I can’t just leave this early on our busiest day of the week.”

“There’ll be other Sundays busier than this one. And you need your rest after the night you had. We’ll be okay, now go,” she pushes. You bite back a smile as you relent, kissing Dottie on the cheek as you pass with the full coffee pot and two mugs gripped tightly in your other hand. She shakes her head watching you cross back to the third booth from the door. 

Steve lights up when you enter his line of sight but his brow furrows at the two mugs held in your left hand. You set them on the table and fill them both with the fresh coffee before setting the pot down on the table. He watches you slide into the empty spot in front of him. The same place you assume Winnie occupied when she’d come here with Cliff. 

“Dottie’s letting me off early,” you say, grabbing an almost obscene amount of Sweet ‘n’ Low packets and dumping them into your mug. “Can you hand me a creamer?”

Steve finds himself staring at you, doctoring your diner coffee to how you like it, hearts for eyes and a wistful smile taking permanent residency on his face. When he doesn’t hand you the creamer right away, you look up, only a little confused but mostly amused at the blatant and overwhelming display of admiration across his features. 

“Steve?”

He blinks in quick succession and clumsily reaches for a creamer while you giggle and god, it’s killing him that he hasn’t kissed you right yet since he’s been here. You hold out your hand and he sets the mini pod on your palm, your fingers brushing his as they enclose around it with a thank you. 

He watches you finish stirring in the creamer, the coffee in your cup now a light shade of brown. You take a sip, both palms wrapped around the mug and your eyes on his when you set it down on the table. 

“You look nice,” you say, eyes dropping down to the simple white tee he’s wearing. When you look back up at his face, his smile is cheeky and his cheeks are flushed. It takes an incredible amount of self restraint not to kiss him across the table.

“Yeah? The plain white tee is really doing it for you?” he leans closer over the table, voice dropped just the slightest bit. You mirror his movement almost like there’s a magnet pulling the two of you together. Steve pulls one of your hands into his, weaving your fingers together across the table. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” there’s a flirtatious thrum in your voice that makes Steve grin. His mouth opens to respond, another silly flirty quip back when Dottie appears at the side of the table. 

“You kids want anything to eat?” 

The sound of her voice sends Steve jumping back against his seat, like he’s 15 and getting caught doing something he shouldn’t be. You lean back slowly, amusement clear on your face and a question in your eyes. Do you?

Steve looks from you and up to Dottie who watches with a knowing gleam in her eye. He starts to shake his head but then his eyes fall back to you and he’s repeating the question to you with his eyes. You consider it for a second and then shake your head slightly which Steve repeats to Dottie.

“No, we’re alright, thanks,” he says and Dottie nods. She grabs the coffee pot but doesn’t move. 

“Heard a lot about you…” she trails off and Steve’s eyes widen just a tad. 

“Oh! Steve. Harrington. Steve Harrington,” he fills in the blank for her, even reaching out his hand for her to shake. 

“Dottie. She talks a lot about you, Steve. Sometimes I don’t even think she realizes she’s doing it.”

You try to cover your face with your one free hand and groan, “Dottie.”

Steve lets out a small laugh and squeezes your hand, always finding it endearing to see you flustered. You slowly move your hand away, to which Steve gives you a quick wink which only makes you want to hide away again like you’re 16 with a crush. 

Dottie pulls him into an easy conversation. How is Hawkins? Where’d you both meet? And: Do you have a job? I expect only the best for my girl here, you know. And: you’ll have to come back and have something more than just coffee next time. 

By the time she’s finished and gone off to engage with the newest patron in the diner, your coffee’s finished and Steve’s has gone cold. You watch Dottie walk off and when you look back, Steve’s staring at you, soft and kind. His gaze makes you squirm. 

“I like her,” he says. 

“Uh oh, do I have to worry about having competition now?” you joke and Steve shakes his head with a laugh. 

“You don’t have to worry about anyone else, you’re the only one for me,” he confesses, rubbing his thumb against your hand. There’s that feeling like your heart might explode again with a sigh of his name, Steve. Though this time, you’re positive you’ve said it outloud.

“Steve,” you tilt your head, voice soft. He lifts your hand to kiss your knuckles and if you don’t kiss him in the next minute, you’re going to have a problem. As if he can sense it, Steve sticks a five on the table and grabs the jacket he’d brought for you as well as Cliff’s leftover newspaper.

He holds his hand out to you to help you out of your side of the booth and you take it, his palm soft against yours. You make it to the door and then pause. 

“Oh! Gotta grab my bag from the back,” you lean up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Meet you at the car?”

Steve nods, squeezing your hip briefly. He watches until you’ve disappeared into the back office before he walks out to his car. You come out not even a minute later, apron off and over your arm and bag hanging off your shoulder. There’s a slight skip in your step. 

The air smells like rain, an earthy petrichor that makes things somehow feel lighter. Steve’s leaning against the passenger side, the door already open and waiting for you. When you’re close enough, he hooks a finger through your bag strap to pull it off your shoulder. It gets caught on the crook of your elbow when you reach up to cup his cheeks with your hands. 

He’s confused for the briefest of seconds and then your lips are on his and he forgets about the bag on your shoulder. His hands fall to your hips, one of his arms wrapping tight around your waist. Something inside both of you is cheering, finally. 

You don’t think you’ll ever tire of kissing Steve. Both of you fit perfectly into the empty spots of each other, as if you were carved from the same stone upon creation. It’s a kiss almost far too explicit for outside Dottie’s diner midmorning on a Sunday but you can’t bring yourself to care. That is, until you need to come up for air. 

You pull back, Steve chasing your lips and winning. You’re almost smiling too much now for it to work, your hands sliding from his cheeks to the sides of his neck. This time, he pulls away and your chests rise and fall in sync. 

“Been needing to do that since you first walked inside,” you breathe out and Steve lets out a laugh that you can feel reverberate through you. He kisses you again, quick and soft and his hand moves to take your bag off your shoulder again. 

“And why didn’t you?” he jests, stepping back enough for you to get into his car. One of your hands rests on the top of it, the other hanging loose at your side. Steve wishes he had a camera on him just to capture you in that moment with the sun hitting you in just the right way, playful adoration in your eyes. 

“Because,” you shrug, stooping to get inside the car, holding a hand out for your bag when you’re situated. Steve passes it over and closes your door, jogging around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. 

“Because…?” he pries, sticking the key in the ignition but not yet turning it. You’re pulling your seatbelt across your chest, turning your head to smile at him as you click the buckle into place. 

“Because Dottie might’ve gotten suspicious as to why I was so late this morning,” another pointed look his way and Steve shakes his head, turning the engine over and quickly buckling in his seatbelt. He shifts into reverse, checking his rearview mirror and then slinging his arm across the back of your seat. 

It’s like a feast for your eyes. The stretch of his arm, a long expanse of muscle right by your head that carries a strong whiff of his cologne. The swift, smooth, one handed feel on the wheel. You’re staring unabashed, only getting knocked out of your reverie when he responds. 

“I’m never living this down.”

He glances at you, his arm dropping from your seat to shift into drive. You lean your head against the headrest and shake it with a smile. 

“So what was your excuse then? For being late?” 

He pulls onto the street to take you back towards Hawkins, his right hand leaving the wheel and dropping to find your hand. You take the liberty of slotting your fingers into the spaces between his. 

“Oh you know. Rough night being sick. Oversleeping. Like something out of Steve Harrington’s playbook for getting out of work,” you tease. He scoffs, sparing you a quick amused glance. You lift your hands to your lips in response, your smile hiding behind the kiss you press to his knuckles. 

“And did it work? Did she buy it?” 

“Oh, of course. Why do you think she let me off so early?” 

Steve looks over at you again and sees the slight smirk on your face. He shakes his head with a slight laugh. 

“Wow, you’ve been hanging around me too long. I’m rubbing off on you.”

“Like that’s such a bad thing,” you roll your eyes, turning your head so your cheek rests against the leather of the headrest. A gooey softness melts into your gaze. “You’re one of the best people I know.”

Steve smiles, his cheeks blooming with a slight twinge of pink. He doesn’t say anything, just takes his turn lifting your joined hands to his lips to litter kisses along your knuckles. Your heart goes mushy, such has been the case since you started dating Steve. The mush liquefies, seeping through your body with a shiver when you notice the picture he’s got propped on his dash. 

He’s had to have just added it recently. A grainy film capture of the two of you, you think Max must’ve taken it if you remember correctly but you haven’t seen it before. You’re both leaning against the hood of his car, Steve’s arm around your shoulders and your hand lifted to hold his hand that hangs there. A big toothy grin is spread across your face, your head tilted slightly against Steve’s shoulder. Steve’s not looking at the camera though, he’s looking at you with a lopsided smile, adoration spilling out of him clear as day. 

“When did you add that?” you ask, pointing at the picture with your free hand. Steve glances down at it and immediately breaks into a smile.

“Just the other day. Surprised it’s taken you so long to notice it,” he replies, looking over at you and then back at the road. You’re about to ask if you can somehow get a copy of your own when he says, “I have a copy for you at home, don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get it before you go back to your place.”

You smile at him, one that’s soft around the edges, a perfect mirror of how you feel. It feels so wonderful to be known and seen by somebody the way Steve knows and sees you. Making sure to get two prints of that picture of you. Bringing a jacket to work for you for the rain that doesn’t arrive until that afternoon as you’re about to leave his house to go back to yours. 

He uses it as an excuse to keep you with him for another night, something you weakly protest against because the roads aren’t completely slick yet and you can get home just fine. But he insists, his eyes round and pleading and really you can’t deny that you’d rather stay with him anyway. 

Even if it means you’re tired again in the morning and rushing to work. You think being with Steve is a worthy price to pay, you never thought you’d be so glad to be so tired. 

And, at least you’re not late this time.

[miaoumeowmiaw]

ST5 MAY LEAKS

Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome

Fremde, etranger, stranger

Glukich zu sehen, je suis enchante, happy to see you

Bleibe, reste, stay

Originally collected from multiple sources part of, and in contact with, Minou in the months leading up to May, these are the published leaks and conversations from that time. According to other leakers, this information was ~80% true and likely to have come from real extras, including military staff. Today, we have full confirmation for the vast majority. Screenshots from the time are publicly available, and as such will not be provided in this post.

Keep in mind some information may be omitted, as these leaks are not part of the recent batch. Feel free to contact The Cat's Meow or Minou directly to learn more!

PARTIAL NURSING EXTRA INTERVIEW

"Hey! I'm really sorry for not having talked much. There is a lot of work here. I have coffee on hand and [more information]! Personally, the filming is scattered. The military personnel, but especially [us] nurses, are recurring but do not play an incredible role, at least for our cohort. There are 2 [...] good guys and bad guys. My group is the [good cohort], we are generally in the background and we [...] take care of civilians and [the main] actors.

Extras for the military are sent in [shifts], so if the accounts of fans have not posted a huge ad saying 'EXTRAS FINALLY ARRIVED IN ATLANTA', that is why. It's something that they have done in all of the filming sessions. It is way too much work to have everyone here at the same time, and [we also experience] problems with travel and confidentiality.

[...] Most of us are leaving the area when we finish the work for the day. Some come in [only to] return home. I am staying in a motel with a handful of other extras.

The leaks on the time skip are true, but I think they have been exaggerated. It is [limited to the first episode] and taken slowly, given that we are moving from one season to another. It stops in autumn. The aesthetic of the season is similar to the first season [and] there are no flashy colours, if that can make someone happy. In fact, I think [it is] duller than season 1. It is very suitable for what [will be occurring]."

FULL LEAK RUNDOWN INTERVIEW

Was there any mention of the Upside Down duos or confirmed mid-late season pairings?

"The season is a lot more community-orientated. The 'pairings' they mentioned were small groups."

Did they confirm Mike's injury?

" [...] Almost all of the characters get hurt in some way [...] They have scratches, injured arms and legs with visual limps and gashes. One character has a deep wound near their midsection. There is a conversation about health and sickness [caused by the] Upside Down particles and environment, and how that might put people at [higher] risk."

Did they have solid information outside of the hospital, specifically regarding character arcs?

"They confirmed the time skip leaks, but it was blown out of proportion, as well as the Upside Down sicknesses. The parents, mainly Karen, have an increase in screen time because of [the sicknesses], and eventually become involved with the supernatural plot. There is a 'Byler' moment where the two [...] scout out [an area] together."

What additional information do you have?

"A large amount of the season focuses on the real world and Hawkins. The aesthetic and pacing is similar to season 1 and 2, [and it is] set around fall. [Hawkins] has aspects of quarantining. The hospital crew were sent to Hawkins by the military, [however they] abandoned those duties to help properly assist civilians. They are snuffed out eventually."

What are they unable to tell you?

"Extras almost never have the full script, and might not even have their own, unless [they have] speaking lines [...] I would not be shocked if parts were cut out."

How would you better describe Mike's arc?

"[...] His arc is separate, in the sense that he is not talking about his girlfriend every 5 seconds [like in season 3 and 4]. It's focused on self discovery [...] he is trying to get back to normalcy and figure out what [had] changed in him. He spends [most of the season] with Will, and there is more distance between him and El. [...] The vibes are similar to [those in] season 4."

Did you hear anything about Will?

"No. All I really know is that Will takes a leadership role because of his knowledge [and experience with] the Upside Down. They reacted positively to the rumours about Will having nightmares or discomfort. [I was only told about] 2 conversations [between] Mike and Will, and both of them are about health and well being. [It's possible that they are] in the same scene, with a transition between public and somewhere more secluded. The first is about the health of other people, and the second is about Mike and Will individually."

Have you heard anything in relation to the farm?

"They are not involved in those scenes and plots, but the characters consider heading farther from Hawkins because of everything that is going on with the military and gate exposure [...] It is not related to any Upside Down threat initially."

Does Will blame himself?

"Will takes on a [...] leadership role because of his experience with the Upside Down and general maturity. A chunk of his plot is him feeling [as if] he has a responsibility to support everybody else, and [he has] some negative emotions brought out when that does not go perfect. Not that the rest of the characters are happy, but nothing is explicitly said or shown except for Will and some other characters. There are a handful of remarks made about his responses to events."

How do these negative emotions contribute to the stories angst?

"The entire season is doom and gloom, but for Will, everything is discreet. [...] His relationships are strained. He lets his trauma take the wheel from what I'm hearing, [feeling] on edge early in the season, and [this] turns into snappy dialogue post-harm. There are comments from other characters that bring up and question this, specifically El, Steve and Robin. [There are] no destroyed friendships because of it [...] but it is uncomfortable."

INCOMPLETE SPACE RECORDINGS

There are multiple flashbacks throughout the season.

There is an angst parallel to season 2.

When asked about the church, a burning cross was presented.

El does not live in Hopper's cabin or Mike's house.

Will experience nightmares and trances.

Vecna targets his victims in a different way.

Vecna targets Holly.

Karen does not die.

Ted dies.

El does not attend school or live close to Hawkins.

Nobody knows the ending.

Will falls from a tree and the visual switches from the Upside Down to the real world.

Flashbacks, "false flashbacks", visions, beliefs, and control.

Characters are sleep deprived.

The scream was not Jonathan.

There is a conversation about nightmares.

Leakers do know multiple interactions and pairings but refuse to share them.

Jonathan, Robin, Hopper and Erica frequently get screen time.

Nobody knows the endgames.

El visits the mindscape.

There is a false sacrifice or loss.

There are multiple fight scenes with Vecna.

There are both "Byler" and "Mileven" scenes.

El and Max interact.

The flashbacks are only of the Upside Down.

[sweetmisery]

bet on love | pt.1

summary: a risky bet between Jiung and Intak threatens to damage both their friendship and their relationship with their stylist

pairing: jiung x intak x female!reader

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: conflict, jealousy, mention of injury

word count: 6.4k

a/n: hi!! omg it's been a while since i've been on tumblr but i've recently got back into writing stories and i'm really excited to share some of my fics with you. i'm also open for any request, just go to my profile and send me a message ♡

part 2

It was another busy morning in the dressing room, with the distant hum of fans gathering outside and the buzz of production teams setting up equipment. The air smelled of hairspray and powder, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee from the table in the corner.

You pulled your kit closer, glancing at the schedule taped to the mirror in front of you. Today was going to be hectic - a photoshoot followed by a fan meet-and-greet. Your main focus, as always, was Intak and Jiung. They'd been with you from the beginning, and you'd gotten used to their personalities. But lately, something had shifted.

Suddenly you heard a familiar voice behind you. "Morning, y/n!" Intak strode in, flashing his usual bright smile. He always came in with a burst of energy, like a firework.

"Hey, Intak!" you replied, rummaging through your makeup kit. "You ready for today?"

"Of course," he said, dropping into the styling chair. He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes gleaming. "You’re gonna make me look amazing, right?"

Before you could respond, Jiung strolled in, carrying his own aura of quiet coolness. He gave a small wave. "Morning, y/n."

"Morning, Jiung," you said, returning his nod as he sat down in the chair next to Intak.

Immediately, the tension was palpable. Intak’s lighthearted teasing and Jiung’s calm, collected demeanor never seemed to match. And when it came to who got styled first, they had turned it into an ongoing contest. You didn’t know what it was about, but it was always the same.

"So, who's up first?" Intak asked, leaning forward in his chair with a grin that looked a little too competitive.

Jiung crossed his arms, glancing briefly at Intak before looking at you. "I was here second, but I think I should go first today."

You sighed inwardly. Here we go again.

"Seriously, Jiung?" Intak scoffed. "You've gone first every other time this week."

"No, I haven’t."

"Yeah, you have!"

You tried to focus on your work, pulling out your comb and hair products, but their bickering was like background noise you couldn’t tune out. Lately, it had been getting worse, and it was starting to affect your flow. You could handle the occasional quip, but this was on a whole other level.

"Guys, I have both of you to get through," you said, trying to sound diplomatic. "Let's just keep it easy today, okay? There’s enough time for everyone."

But Intak shot Jiung a sideways look. "He’s just mad because he knows I’m your favorite."

Jiung scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "That's just in your head."

You blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

Intak shrugged, smirking. “I’m just saying, I think you like working with me better. Don’t you, y/n?”

Your mouth opened to respond, but the way Jiung’s eyes flickered with annoyance stopped you. Was this more than just their usual banter? You had no idea where this was coming from, but the heat between them was starting to get… weird.

"You’re being childish," Jiung muttered, shaking his head as if he were over it, though his voice had a sharp edge to it.

"Am I?" Intak shot back, still grinning but with a challenge in his tone.

Inhaling deeply, your fingers gripping the hairspray can tighter than necessary. "Look," you said, keeping your voice calm, "let's just get through today. No favorites, no competition. I’ll style Intak first, and Jiung, you're next. Okay?"

You expected them to relax, but instead, you noticed Jiung’s jaw tense as he gave a quiet nod, while Intak looked smug, folding his arms as if he’d won some unseen battle.

Somehow you couldn’t help but feel the weight of their rivalry pressing down on you as you started working on Intak’s hair. What was going on between them? It was like you had become the invisible referee in a game you didn’t understand.

As you ran your fingers through Intak’s hair, his eyes flickered to yours, a little too intense. “Thanks, y/n,” he said softly, his smile lingering longer than usual.

“Sure,” you muttered, focusing on your work, your mind swirling with thoughts. Something was definitely up, but you couldn’t place what.

And then, just as you finished Intak’s hair and was moving to Jiung, you overheard them again - this time in a lower, more serious tone.

"Bet you she likes me better," Intak whispered.

"You wish," Jiung replied, his voice equally quiet, but just as sharp.

You glanced between the two of them, trying to piece it together. They were acting more competitive than ever. But why?

Eventually, you would have to figure it out, but for now, you had a job to do. Even if these boys were driving you up the wall.

The day unfolded with rehearsals stretching long into the afternoon. You were busy touching up the boys' hair and makeup between their practice runs. P1Harmony was set to perform in front of a live audience for a special event tonight, and tension hung in the air, heavier than usual.

Standing offstage, you took a moment to yourself. You watched as the group ran through their set, each of them moving in sync, their energy electric. But your focus kept shifting between Intak and Jiung, their dynamic different from the others. Their performances were as sharp as always, but during breaks, they exchanged glances that felt like daggers, and you couldn’t help but notice how much their rivalry had intensified since the morning.

Suddenly, Keeho appeared by your side. The group leader had an innate sense of what was going on, always keeping an eye on his members, and apparently, on you as well.

"Busy day?" he asked casually, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

You nodded, exhaling. "You could say that. How’s the rehearsal looking?"

Keeho glanced over at the stage, his sharp eyes catching every detail. "Looking good, but…" he hesitated, and then with a small smirk, added, "those two, huh?"

Your heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

He chuckled as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Come on, y/n. You really haven’t noticed? Intak and Jiung. They’ve been practically at each other’s throats for weeks. You’re in the middle of it."

You blinked, your breath catching. "W-what?"

Keeho raised an eyebrow, his smirk deepening. "You’re telling me you haven’t seen the way they look at you? They’ve got it bad."

For a moment, you just stared at him, your mind racing. You had always thought their banter and bickering were just part of their personalities clashing, but this - this was something else. "Wait, are you saying-"

"They both like you," Keeho cut in smoothly, his voice casual but filled with amusement. "And they've made it a competition."

You felt your face grow warm, your pulse quickening. "That’s ridiculous," you muttered, but your mind started connecting the dots - the way they fought over who went first, Intak’s teasing comments, Jiung’s more intense glares. Could it really be true?

Keeho shrugged, his eyes glinting mischievously. "If you say so. But trust me, they’re not as subtle as they think."

Before you could respond, Intak’s voice rang out from the stage, breaking the moment.

"Yo, y/n!" he called, waving at you as the group took a break. "Come over here, we need you!"

Keeho chuckled under his breath. "See what I mean?" he said, giving you a knowing look before heading back toward the other members.

Still processing Keeho’s words, you walked toward the stage where the boys were sitting in a circle, catching their breaths. As you approached, Jiung glanced up at you, his expression unreadable, while Intak flashed his usual teasing smile.

"Can you fix my hair?" Intak asked, running a hand through the strands, slightly tousled from the intense choreography. "Gotta stay fresh for the fans."

You nodded, reaching for the comb, but as you moved to stand behind him, Jiung interrupted.

"Actually, y/n," Jiung began, his voice smooth and quiet, "I think my mic might be off. Can you check it?" His gaze held yours for a moment, longer than necessary, and there was something soft, almost vulnerable in his expression.

Your heart skipped again, caught between them. "Uh, sure," you said, feeling suddenly flustered.

Intak shot Jiung a playful glare. "Come on, man, your mic’s fine. She’s busy."

"Just because you got your hair done first doesn’t mean you get to hog her all day," Jiung countered, his voice calm but with an edge.

There was a strange pressure building, their unspoken competition becoming increasingly obvious now that Keeho’s words were rattling in your mind. You crouched down to check Jiung’s mic pack, though you knew it was fine.

Just as you were about to finish, the music director called out for a soundcheck. "Jiung, you’re up! Let’s hear that angelic voice of yours!"

Jiung stood, walking toward his mark, his gaze lingering on you before he picked up his mic. His voice filled the room, soft and ethereal, as the first few lines of the ballad rang out. Every time he sang, you were reminded why you loved working with him. His voice had this pure, calming quality like it could lift the weight of any bad day.

But as soon as Jiung’s part ended, Intak grabbed his mic, his eyes flashing with that competitive spark. His voice cut through the air with bold confidence, his rap fast, playful, and teasing - just like him. It was fresh, a burst of energy that was impossible to ignore. You couldn’t help but smile, your body moving slightly to the rhythm of his verses.

The contrast between their performances was striking, and it reminded you why you admired them both so much. Jiung’s soft, angelic tone that soothed the room, and Intak’s lively, teasing flow that brought it to life.

Suddenly, the music director called for a full group run, and as the boys took their positions, the tension between Intak and Jiung seemed to hang in the air, heavier than before.

And then it happened.

Just as they began the choreography, Jiung misstepped, his foot slipping. It happened in an instant - he stumbled forward, and Intak, too close to avoid him, tried to brace the fall. But instead of catching him, both of them went down in a tangle of limbs.

The room froze. You gasped, rushing toward the stage as Keeho shouted, “Stop! Everyone stop!”

As you reached them, you saw Intak sitting up, rubbing his head, while Jiung groaned, clutching his ankle. The rest of the members gathered around, concern etched on their faces.

"Jiung, you okay?" Keeho asked, already calling for the staff.

You knelt beside Jiung, your heart pounding as you saw the pain in his eyes. "Jiung, let me see."

He winced but nodded, letting you examine his ankle. It was swelling fast.

“Intak,” Keeho said, his voice suddenly serious, “you okay?”

Intak nodded, still catching his breath. "Yeah… yeah, I’m fine." But his usual grin was gone, and his eyes were fixed on Jiung, concern flickering across his face.

Your mind raced as the situation sunk in. This was bad. Really bad.

And yet, you couldn’t shake the thought: Was this accident just that - a coincidence? Or had this competition between them gone too far? The rehearsal room buzzed with tension as staff members rushed to help Jiung. He winced as they carefully lifted him to a nearby chair, his ankle already swelling beneath the ice pack someone had quickly provided. Intak stood to the side, unusually silent, his eyes locked on Jiung as if replaying the moment over and over in his head.

You hovered nearby, torn between concern for Jiung and the strange guilt that seemed to radiate from Intak. You could feel the heat of their unresolved tension burning between them, but now it was no longer just verbal jabs and playful rivalry - something had broken.

Keeho stepped in, taking control of the situation with the calm authority that always marked him as the leader. "Jiung, you’re sitting out for now," he said firmly, addressing the group. "We’ll finish the run-through without him and see how bad the ankle is afterward."

Jiung clenched his jaw, clearly frustrated. "I’m fine," he muttered, though the pain in his voice was undeniable.

"Take it easy," you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You don’t want to make it worse."

He glanced up at you, the tension in his face softening for a moment. "I know," he whispered, but his gaze flicked briefly to Intak, and something unspoken passed between them - something that made your chest tighten.

The rehearsal resumed, but it felt different now, heavier. The usual energy that sparked between the members was muted, like a fire that had been doused. You watched Intak as he rapped through his verses, his usual swagger subdued. His glances kept drifting toward Jiung, who sat quietly at the side, lost in thought.

The room felt charged, like a storm waiting to break.

When the session finally ended, the rest of the group slowly trickled out, leaving just you, Intak, and Jiung in the quiet backstage space. You busied yourself packing up your equipment, trying to keep your mind off Keeho’s earlier comment. They both like you. The words kept circling in your head, making every glance and interaction between the two of them feel magnified, more intense.

"Hey," Intak's voice broke through your thoughts, startling you. He was standing closer than you expected, his hands in his pockets, eyes flickering between you and Jiung. "About earlier…"

You looked at him, your heart quickening. "It was an accident, right?"

Intak hesitated for just a second too long. "Yeah," he finally said, but his voice lacked the usual confidence you were used to. "Of course."

Your stomach twisted. You glanced over at Jiung, who had been quiet for the past few minutes, still sitting on the chair with his ankle propped up. His expression was unreadable, but the tension between him and Intak felt thick enough to cut.

Just as the silence threatened to stretch unbearably, Jiung tried to stand, wincing slightly as he put weight on his injured foot. "Y/n," he said, his voice softer now. "Could you help me out to the car?"

You blinked, torn between them. "Uh, yeah, of course."

Intak’s jaw clenched, though he didn’t say anything. You took a deep breath, walking over to Jiung’s side. His ankle was propped up with an ice pack, and he looked annoyed more than anything, as if the pain in his foot was secondary to something deeper.

"You really should get that checked out," you said softly, your eyes scanning the swelling with concern.

Jiung nodded, his jaw clenched. "Yeah," he muttered, clearly frustrated. Then, with a quick glance toward Intak, he added, “This wasn’t just an accident, you know.”

Your heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean?"

Intak straightened, his expression suddenly defensive. "Jiung, come on. Don’t make this into something it’s not."

But Jiung wasn’t having it. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with something heavy - something raw. "He wasn’t paying attention. And I got hurt because of it."

Your stomach dropped. You had seen their competitive streaks before, but this - this felt like it had crossed a line. "Intak," you said slowly, turning to face him, your voice sharp with confusion. "What happened?"

Intak’s hands shot up, as if to defend himself. "It wasn’t like that, y/n. I didn’t mean to knock him over. It just… happened."

Jiung scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a wince. "Yeah, well, maybe you should’ve been more careful."

Your pulse quickened, your eyes narrowing at Intak. The playful teasing from earlier now felt dangerously close to something reckless. "You hurt him," you said, your voice lower. "You weren’t thinking, and now Jiung’s paying for it."

Intak’s eyes widened, clearly taken aback by your sudden shift in tone. "Y/n, it wasn’t on purpose! You know me better than that."

"Do I?" you snapped back, surprising even yourself with the sharpness in your voice. You looked back at Jiung, whose frustration was now written across his face. "I don’t care if it was an accident or not. What matters is that Jiung is hurt, and it could’ve been avoided."

Intak flinched, like he had been struck, his usual carefree attitude nowhere to be seen. He opened his mouth to argue, but something stopped him. Maybe it was the way you were looking at him - disappointed, angry - or maybe it was the way Jiung sat there, quiet but firm, the tension between them simmering beneath the surface.

"I… I didn’t mean for it to go this way," Intak finally muttered, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

You weren't having it. You turned back to Jiung, reaching out to help him. "Come on," you said gently, your hand slipping under his arm to support him as he stood. "Let’s get you to the car."

Jiung gave a small nod, though his eyes never left Intak, the air between them still crackling with unspoken words. As you helped him toward the door, you could feel Intak’s eyes on you, a mix of frustration and guilt hanging in the air.

"Y/n-" Intak started, but you cut him off with a sharp glance over your shoulder.

"Not now," you said firmly. "I need to help Jiung."

The words stung, and you knew it. Intak, usually full of quick comebacks and playful banter, fell silent, his expression clouded with something you hadn't seen before. But you couldn’t think about that right now. Jiung was hurt, and that was all that mattered.

As you made your way outside, the cool evening air hit your face, offering a brief reprieve from the intensity inside the rehearsal space. Jiung leaned on you slightly, careful not to put too much weight on his injured foot.

"You didn’t have to do that," Jiung said quietly as you reached the car, his voice softer now.

"Do what?" you asked, adjusting your grip as you paused by the door.

"Get mad at Intak," he replied, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. "I don’t want you caught in the middle of this."

You sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "It’s too late for that, Jiung. I’ve been in the middle for a while now, haven’t I?"

He didn’t answer, but the look in his eyes said enough. He shifted his weight, wincing slightly, and you helped him into the back seat of the car. As you stood back, your heart ached at the sight of him, so different from his usual calm, collected self. The tension from earlier still gnawed at you, a persistent feeling that something had shifted irreversibly between them all.

You closed the car door and stood there for a moment, staring down at your hands. This wasn’t just about a simple accident, was it? The competition between Intak and Jiung had always been there, lurking under the surface, but today had felt like the beginning of something more - something darker.

And for the first time, you weren't sure how you fit into it.

The days following Jiung’s injury felt like a blur. With him sidelined to recover from his ankle sprain, you spent more time with him backstage than you ever had before. It was strange at first, seeing Jiung away from the spotlight, but the quiet moments between the both of you soon grew into something you hadn’t expected.

You talked a lot - about everything and nothing. Jiung was easy to be around, his gentle demeanor making the hours pass quickly. You laughed more than you had anticipated, sharing inside jokes and teasing each other about little things, like how Jiung couldn’t stand the way the others always left their stuff lying around. And the more time you spent with him, the more you found yourself appreciating his sweetness, the way he always checked to make sure you weren't overworked, and the small compliments he gave without making a big deal out of it.

“You know, you’re really thoughtful,” you said one afternoon, as Jiung shifted on the couch, carefully propping up his foot.

He gave you a shy smile. “I just try to make sure everyone’s okay. Especially you.”

His words warmed you, and for a second, your eyes met in a way that made your heart flutter. You laughed it off, nudging him playfully. “Stop being so nice, you’ll make me soft.”

Jiung chuckled, his voice soft and melodic, the same way it was when he sang. “I’m serious though. You do a lot for us.”

You smiled, but before you could respond, the door burst open, and the noise of the stage flooded the room. Keeho, followed by the other boys, came rushing in, sweaty from their performance and ready for a quick touch-up before heading back out.

The room instantly became a whirlwind of chaos. Keeho was barking out orders, Jongseob was fixing his stage mic, and Soul was already halfway out of his costume, while Theo grabbed some water. It was the usual madness that came with concert prep, but you were used to it by now.

And then, there was Intak.

He was the last one to come in, his shirt already half undone as he made his way toward you. You felt a jolt of something - annoyance, maybe? - but your eyes betrayed you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his toned chest caught the light as he moved, the muscles in his arms flexing slightly as he peeled off the rest of his shirt.

You turned your attention back to fixing Keeho’s hair, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat sped up when Intak came closer. But of course, Intak wasn’t one to let things slide.

He stopped just behind you, his voice low and teasing. “You like what you’re seeing, y/n?”

Your hand froze in mid-air, the hairspray still in your grip. Blood rushed to your cheeks, and you could feel the heat rising. You turned, wide-eyed, meeting Intak’s smirk head-on.

“What- no!” you stammered, your voice higher than intended. “Put your shirt on, Intak.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned casually against the counter, still shirtless, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Come on, admit it. You’re impressed.”

You glared at him, trying to muster up the same annoyance you´d been holding onto since Jiung’s fall, but the truth was, you couldn’t completely ignore the fluttering in your chest. “I’m still mad at you,” you said, turning back to Keeho. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Intak just chuckled, his voice a low rumble. “Sure it doesn’t.”

The moment lingered, and your mind raced. You wanted to stay angry at him, but the teasing, the playfulness - it was just so… Intak. You had always appreciated his energy, but lately, it had started affecting you in ways you didn’t expect. He knew how to get under your skin, but it wasn’t just annoying anymore. It made your pulse quicken, made you hyperaware of him every time he was around.

Jiung, who had been quietly watching from the couch, looked visibly annoyed. He shifted, his gaze hardening as he glanced between you and Intak. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” Jiung muttered, his voice edged with irritation.

Intak raised an eyebrow, smirking as he slowly pulled his shirt back on. “Jealous much?” he shot back, his tone still teasing.

Jiung’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his attention to you, his eyes softening when they landed on you. “You don’t have to put up with him,” he said, quieter now.

You gave Jiung a small, reassuring smile. “It’s fine, really,” you said, though your heart was still racing from Intak’s teasing. You finished up with Keeho, watching as the boys filed back out for the next round of performances. Intak was the last to leave, throwing you a wink as he disappeared through the door.

As the room settled back into its quiet, Jiung sighed, leaning back against the couch. “He never knows when to stop,” he muttered, his annoyance clear.

You sat down beside him, the earlier flutter in your chest still lingering. “He’s just being Intak,” you said, trying to sound casual, though the truth was, you weren't quite sure what you felt anymore.

“Yeah, well, he’s obnoxious,” Jiung replied, though there was something more in his voice - something that hinted at insecurity. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing down at his injured ankle. “I’ll never be like him.”

You frowned, your heart softening. “What are you talking about? Jiung, you don’t have to be like him. You’re you.”

He looked at you then, his expression serious. “Yeah, but it’s different. You saw the way he was acting - he knows he can get to you.” Jiung’s voice was quieter now, almost vulnerable. “I can’t… I can’t be like that.”

You felt a pang in your chest. Jiung was sweet, thoughtful, and kind in ways Intak wasn’t. They were opposites, but that didn’t make one better than the other. And yet, here you were, feeling torn between them.

You sighed, leaning back against the couch and staring up at the ceiling. “It’s complicated.”

Jiung gave you a sideways glance, his voice softer now. “Yeah… I guess it is.”

The truth was, you were starting to feel something for both of them. Jiung’s sweetness and the way he cared for you was undeniable, but Intak’s boldness and charm had its own pull, one that you couldn’t shake no matter how much you tried. It was becoming harder to ignore the way your heart reacted around both of them.

But there was one thing you knew for sure - their weird rivalry, their competition for your attention, had definitely affected your feelings. And now, you were caught in the middle, not sure what to do.

It was late afternoon, and the backstage area had settled into a rare calm. Jiung was resting on the couch, his ankle propped up, while you worked on cleaning up the leftover mess from the earlier touch-ups. The soft chatter of the other crew members filtered in from the hallway, but for the moment, it was just the two of you in the room.

You had been enjoying the quiet moments with Jiung over the past few days. You had grown closer, more comfortable around each other, and despite everything that had happened, you found yourself smiling more often than not when you talked.

Jiung shifted on the couch, glancing at you as you neatly arranged your brushes. He hesitated for a moment, chewing on his lower lip, before finally speaking.

"Hey, y/n?"

You turned, catching the slightly nervous tone in his voice. "Yeah?"

Jiung sat up straighter, looking a little tense but determined. "I was thinking… since it’s been so hectic lately, maybe we could hang out? You know, outside of work. Just chill."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised but curious. "Like… a break?"

"Yeah," Jiung said, his voice gaining confidence. "Like, this Saturday. We could go to a karaoke bar. I know it’s kind of random, but I thought it might be fun to just relax and forget about work for a while."

You blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Karaoke?”

Jiung chuckled, the tension easing from his face as he leaned back. “Yeah, don’t worry. You don’t have to be a singer or anything. It’s about having fun, not being perfect.”

You smiled, though a small laugh escaped you. “Jiung, I can’t sing.”

“That’s the point!” Jiung grinned, his voice warm. “No pressure, just for fun. It’s a good way to unwind.”

You bit your lip, feeling a strange, excited flutter at the idea. It sounded fun - unexpected, but fun. And the thought of spending more time with Jiung, just the two of you, outside of the usual chaos, made you smile. "Okay," you said, your tone brightening. "That sounds like a good idea. I’m in."

Jiung’s smile widened, his eyes lighting up. "Great! Saturday it is, then."

As you returned to organizing your kit, you couldn’t help but feel a little thrill of anticipation for the weekend. A night out with Jiung, away from the pressure of work, sounded perfect.

But later that day, as the boys prepared to head out after rehearsals, Intak caught up with you just as you were packing up your things. He was as confident and energetic as ever, flashing you a grin as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Hey, y/n,” he said casually. “So, I was thinking… there's this new Marvel movie out, and I was wondering if you wanted to check it out this Saturday.”

You paused mid-action, your heart suddenly racing. Intak had never asked you to hang out before, and the invitation caught you completely off guard. Your mind immediately flashed to your plans with Jiung.

"Oh, uh…" you stammered, feeling your face grow warm. "I, uh, actually already made plans for Saturday."

Intak raised an eyebrow, looking curious. "Oh yeah? What kind of plans?"

The words slipped out before you could think. "I’m going to a karaoke bar with Jiung."

For a second, Intak’s expression froze, and you realized too late what you had said. His playful smirk disappeared, replaced by something darker - jealousy. "Karaoke bar?" he repeated slowly, his tone edged with suspicion.

You felt a pang of regret. You hadn’t meant to tell him, not like that. "It’s just - Jiung asked, and we thought it’d be fun… you know, to unwind a bit."

Intak’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he crossed his arms, leaning in closer. "Sounds like a lot of fun," he said, though his tone suggested otherwise. "In fact, I think I’ll join you guys."

Your heart skipped a beat, panic rising in your chest. "What?"

"Yeah," Intak continued, his voice carrying a teasing edge, but there was a clear layer of jealousy underneath. "No way I’m letting Jiung have all the fun alone with you. I’ll be there too."

You blinked, feeling the weight of the situation crash down on you. This was not what you had planned. You wanted a quiet, fun night with Jiung - just the two of you, away from the usual chaos. But now, Intak was determined to crash your plans, and you knew exactly why.

"But-" you started, trying to find the right words to convince him, but Intak just grinned, his usual cocky confidence back in full force.

"Don’t worry," he said smoothly, standing up straight. "It’ll be fun. I promise not to out-sing you. Much."

You could barely manage a weak smile. "I… I guess I’ll see you there, then."

"Great," Intak said with a wink before heading out of the room, leaving you standing there, feeling flustered and guilty.

As soon as the door closed, you let out a long sigh. What did I just get myself into? You hadn’t meant to let Intak in on your plans, and now you were stuck. The last thing you wanted was for Jiung to find out that Intak had invited himself along - especially since Jiung had clearly been excited for some one-on-one time with you.

And yet, there was a part of you that couldn’t ignore the flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing both of them outside of work. Intak’s boldness and charm always made your heart race, even when he was being insufferable. And Jiung’s sweetness was something you had grown to love in these quiet moments together. But now, the tension between them was more obvious than ever, and you found yourself right in the middle.

You knew you couldn’t tell Jiung the truth - that Intak was coming too. Not yet, at least. You needed to figure out how to handle this before Saturday.

But as the week ticked by and Saturday loomed closer, all you could do was hope for the best.

The karaoke room was cozy, bathed in dim neon lights with plush couches that made it the perfect spot to relax after a long week. You sat back, your laughter still bubbling from Jiung’s last performance. He had come back to the room with soft drinks and snacks, and now he was up at the mic, goofing around with a light-hearted song, making funny faces and exaggerated dance moves that had you giggling uncontrollably.

Jiung had this way about him - his natural sweetness, paired with his quiet confidence, made him easy to be around. Every now and then, he’d flash you a shy smile, as if making sure you were still having fun. And you were. More than you had expected.

The door to the room was still shut, and you found yourself silently hoping Intak had forgotten about this. He hadn’t shown up yet, and the thought of having this time alone with Jiung, just the two of you, felt like the perfect break you hadn’t realized you needed. No teasing interruptions, no rivalry - just Jiung and his easygoing presence.

"Okay," you called out with a grin as Jiung finished the song, "your turn for a serious one."

Jiung grinned, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "Alright, alright," he said, walking over to the tablet to scroll through the song list. "What do you want to hear?"

"Surprise me," you said, leaning back into the couch, her heart still light from all the laughter.

Jiung scrolled for a few seconds, then nodded to himself before selecting the song. As soon as the first chords started playing, you recognized it: "Leave The Door Open" by Bruno Mars. The smooth, soulful tune filled the room, and Jiung stepped up to the mic, his expression changing from playful to something more serious, more emotional.

You watched him intently. His angelic voice had always been a favorite of yours - soft, pure, like honey to the ears. But this time, there was something different. As Jiung sang, he closed his eyes, pouring his emotions into every note. His voice flowed through the song effortlessly, and it hit you in a way that made your heart skip.

There was something about the way he sang, the way his voice carried the emotions of the song, that pulled you in deeper. Your gaze stayed fixed on him, watching every expression, every slight movement. He wasn’t just singing; he was feeling it, and somehow, you felt it too.

Your heart fluttered as you listened, your pulse quickening as the lyrics washed over you. You knew this song was about more than just the words - Jiung was telling you something through it, something that had been growing between both of you, something unspoken.

When he finished the final note, the room fell into a brief, charged silence. You couldn’t help but smile, your hands coming together in applause. "That was amazing," you said softly, your voice filled with genuine admiration. "You were incredible."

Jiung gave a small, bashful smile, sitting back down beside you on the couch. "Thanks," he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost shy. "I’m just… really happy we’re doing this."

You looked at him, your heart still racing, feeling a warmth settle in the space between you. "Yeah, me too," you replied softly. "I didn’t realize how much I needed a night like this."

Jiung shifted slightly closer, his eyes meeting yours in a way that made your breath hitch. "I’ve been looking forward to this for a while," he confessed, his voice tender, his cheeks faintly pink. "Just… spending time with you. I always wanted to, you know, just us."

Your heart skipped at his words, your gaze locked on his. Your usual playful banter had fallen away, replaced by something deeper, something real. The space between you seemed to shrink, and for a moment, all you could focus on was the softness in Jiung’s eyes and the way your pulse pounded in your ears.

Both your hearts beat faster, synchronized in the charged silence that followed.

Jiung leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. "There’s… something I’ve been meaning to tell you, y/n."

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him, the weight of his words hanging between you. Your heart raced, anticipation and uncertainty swirling together. Jiung’s eyes held yours, full of emotion, and you knew whatever he was about to say would change things.

But just as Jiung opened his mouth to speak, the door swung open.

"Yo, what’s up?" Intak’s voice rang through the room, shattering the moment in an instant.

You flinched, your head snapping toward the door. Intak stood there, grinning as if he hadn’t just interrupted something intimate. He casually glanced around the room, his eyes flicking between Jiung and you as he stepped inside, completely oblivious to the tension in the air.

"Karaoke bar, huh?" Intak continued, raising an eyebrow as he plopped down onto the couch across from them. "You guys started without me?"

Your heart plummeted. You had been so caught up in the moment with Jiung, so close to hearing whatever it was he had to say, and now Intak had arrived, throwing everything off balance. You glanced at Jiung, whose expression had hardened slightly, the softness from moments earlier now replaced by frustration.

Intak stretched out, completely unaware of - or perhaps purposefully ignoring - the charged atmosphere he’d just walked into. "So," he said, smirking, "who’s up next?"

You shifted uncomfortably, your thoughts swirling. You had no idea what to say. The tension between the three of you was undeniable now, and you knew that whatever was happening between you and Jiung, it wasn’t going to stay private for much longer.

You glanced at Jiung, whose jaw was tight, clearly struggling to hold back his irritation. His eyes flicked toward you, silently asking you what to do, but all you could manage was a small, uncertain smile.

"Uh, I guess we could let Intak sing," you offered, your voice sounding far too strained for her liking.

Jiung sat back, his expression unreadable, though you could see the disappointment flickering in his eyes. Whatever he had been about to say was lost now, buried under the weight of Intak’s arrival.

"Alright!" Intak said. He grabbed the mic, scrolling through the song list with his usual easy confidence. "Let’s see if I can top Jiung’s performance."

As Intak selected a song and the music started, you couldn’t help but feel a sinking sensation in your chest. The night had been going so well - until now.

And as you watched Intak start singing, you couldn’t help but wonder: had you just lost the chance to hear what Jiung had been trying to tell you?

to be continued

© sweetmisery - please do not repost my works! ♡

[pinknightsinmymind]

【 the late shift - abby anderson | NSFW 】

wife!doctor!abby anderson x fem!wife!reader

NSFW CONTENT BELOW CUT MDNI

wc: 6.1k

summary: it's your precious wife's birthday. what better way to celebrate than dinner and birthday sex?

content: modern!au, wife!doctor!abby, wife!reader, descriptions of cooking (bc i love food❤️), domesticity with abby (she helps you cook), switch!abby, switch!reader, dom&sub!reader, dom&sub!abby, top&bottom!reader, top&bottom!abby, hickies, oral sex (r!receiving & abby!receiving), use of toys (abby!receiving), face sitting, fingering (abby!receiving), strap-on usage (r!receiving), abby refers to the strap as her dick/cock, doggy position, nipple play, praise, slight degradation (like once), slight spit kink, body worship, slight dumbification, breeding kink, abby lowkey having a housewife kink, slight spanking (abby just loves slapping your ass), slight dacryphillia, mentions of wine, reader and abby a lil tipsy, use of pet names (baby, babe, love, pretty girl, honey, etc.), mentions of nudes

a/n: this is the filthiest thing i've ever written. this is also the fic that won the poll i posted, so pls enjoy!! also, even though the morning sex option lost on the poll, i'm still gonna post that fic soon, and i can't wait for yall to read it!! pls tell me what you think about this fic bc i'd love to hear!! in this fic i introduce to you my abby happy trail agenda :)) again i just wanna thank you for all your support and love on my fics i appreciate every ounce of it i love yall so much <333

Abby was running late from work today—of all days—like she said she wouldn’t. Despite the fact it was her birthday, she couldn’t take the day off since one of her coworkers was on vacation at the moment. So, with no one else to cover the shift, she begrudgingly went to work on the one day she wanted off more than anything. The entire time she wished she were home and not at the hospital, but on her lunch break she sent you a photo of the small cake her coworker and friend, Nora, brought her. Since work would drain her by the time she got home, all she wanted was a simple at-home celebration that included dinner with you. She said she would be too tired for anything more than that, but you still had a few surprises lined up for her. You had her gifts waiting for her in your bedroom, a cake in the fridge, and you also had a brand new lingerie set you were wearing underneath your clothes. One that you may or may not have sent photos of your body in to tease her while she was at work. But that was neither here nor there.

However, despite both of your best efforts, today just wasn’t playing out how either of you wanted. She had promised she’d be home tonight by five to celebrate her birthday, but it was already past seven. You had gotten texts from her earlier explaining that an emergency had come up with one of her patients and that she’d be running late. You understood that her work was important and, of course, weren’t mad at her for something out of her control. You also knew she cared a lot about her patients and took her work seriously. You were just a little sad that you couldn’t celebrate her birthday sooner and that you had to wait a little longer. While sitting on the couch, you got a text from Abby saying she was finally on her way home. You decided now would be the best time to start getting dinner ready, and headed to the kitchen to prepare everything. You cleaned up your big, granite counter so you’d have space for all your ingredients, and pulled out a cutting board. You had barely finished chopping the mushrooms and tomatoes when you heard the front door opening and closing. You heard Abby’s keys jingling as her steady footsteps sounded from the foyer all the way into the den.

“[Y/N]?” she called.

“In the kitchen!” you responded, leaning against the counter as you waited for her to emerge. She was still in her scrubs and had her backpack on, but as soon as she saw you she slipped it off and let it drop to the floor.

“Baby, I’m so sorry,” she said immediately. She walked up to you and pulled you into a hug. “One of my patients had an emergency that I needed to take care of. I had barely finished packing my things up when it happened. I didn’t even get the chance to clock out.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you assured her. “I know these things happen.” Abby pulled away from the hug, her hands slipping from your shoulders down to your waist. She placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You sure? I know you wanted today to be special.”

“I mean, I’m a little sad you came home later than usual, but at least you’re here now,” you explained.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she said again. She craned her face down to your neck and began to place kisses along your collarbones and the side of your neck. “I really wanted to come home early like you wanted.”

“It’s okay. You texted me right on time, so at least I hadn’t started making dinner. It would’ve gone cold.”

“Now that would’ve made me even sadder,” Abby said, pulling her face out from the crook of your neck. She rubbed lazy circles on your back before picking you up without warning. She sat you down on the kitchen counter and made sure to stand in between your legs. She placed more kisses on your neck and jaw, her hands rubbing up and down your thighs. “You’re such an angel. Let me make it up to you, hm?”

“Abs,” you said quietly.

“Let me make you feel good.”

“But you’re still in your scrubs,” you said to her.

“And?” She bit the skin around your neck, then sucked on it a little before licking it. A small whine left your lips at the feeling as you grasped onto her big arms. “I thought you said they look good on me?”

“You’re a huge germaphobe. You know this,” you scolded her. Abby stopped what she was doing and sighed.

“Fine, you’re right. I’ll shower, but when I get out, it’s over for you,” she warned.

“Sure it is, ma’am,” you joked with her.

“Wanna bet?” she asked. She turned to look at you, raising one of her eyebrows as she gave your body a once over.

“Go take a shower, Abigail,” you said jokingly. She laughed as she turned around to walk to your bedroom.

“Using my full government name now? Wow,” she said with fake hurt before disappearing down the hall. You chuckled a little and rolled your eyes at her dramatics.

First order of business: sauce. You prepped the pan and poured in the tomato sauce that Abby liked and added the chopped up tomatoes and mushrooms to the mix. While the sauce was heating up, you began to prepare the pot to boil the pasta. You made fun of Abby for having bowties as her favorite pasta—you told her it was so cute for someone as tough-looking as her—but it was her favorite so of course you’d make it. You salted the water as you turned up the temperature of the oven. Now all that was left was to make the chicken. The chicken had been defrosting in the sink for a while, and you still had to set up the bowls of batter and crumbs. You decided to coat the chicken in panko bread crumbs for a more crunchy texture, the sound of the sizzling oil filling the air as you dropped the chicken in. The sauce you had made was already simmering on the stove, and you knew it would be finished by the time the chicken was. While you set the chicken to fry, you finally added the pasta into the now boiling water.

You were checking on the chicken when you felt a pair of hands slide across your stomach from behind you. You stifle a chuckle at the feeling as you hadn’t heard Abby approach you and because it made you flustered. Her hands roamed from your stomach to ghost over your ribcage, down to your lower abdomen, repeat. She knew just how to fluster you.

“Well, hello to you, too,” you said to her. You grabbed the tongs nearby and flipped the pieces of chicken over.

“You look so cute like this,” Abby whispered.

“Oh, yeah?” you asked. “What about me is cute to you right now?”

“The fact that you’re making me dinner.” One of her hands slid down from your stomach and past your thighs before she started to grope your ass.

“Abby!” you yelled. “Stop being so horny.” Although you were technically scolding her, you were laughing a little bit as you did. You wanted to pretend you didn’t like Abby’s antics, but you couldn’t. She was just so endearing, and you did love her touch.

“Alright, alright. I’ll keep my hands above your ass. Is that better?” she teased.

“Much better.” You took out two pieces of chicken that were done frying and placed them on the pan you set out to collect them after they were cooked. After you finished with the chicken you were planning on covering them in mozzarella to sit in the oven for a few minutes. You felt Abby’s hand move from your ass and back to caressing your stomach and your hips. “You’re touchy today.”

“And are you complaining?” she asked in a low voice. She nuzzled her face into your neck as she began to place kisses all over your skin. She was gingerly ghosting over that one spot that drove you crazy, barely leaving a trace of her warmth behind as her skin grazed past yours. Her lips would practically hover over as if she was going to kiss you before moving. What a tease.

“No, but aren’t you afraid of the oil splattering us?”

“I don’t know. I think it could be kind of sexy. Like wax play or something.”

“You are unbelievable,” you laughed. “If you want to be helpful, can you get the mozzarella out of the fridge? The packaging’s brand new.”

She placed a few more kisses on the back of your neck. “Yes, ma’am.” She pulled away from your body, but not before smacking your ass.

“Abigail Anderson,” you warned.

“[Y/N] Anderson,” she said as she walked to the fridge. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll even shred it for you,” she announced.

“Wow. You’re so kind,” you said sarcastically. You took out the two final pieces of chicken and turned the burner beneath the pan off. In the meantime, you could hear Abby pulling out the cheese grater and a bowl to get to work. You grabbed a nearby spoon and stirred the pasta a little bit to see how close it was to being ready.

“Here you go, love.” Abby suddenly appeared at your side with the shredded mozzarella in a bowl for you. She gave you a kiss on the cheek, one you quickly returned as you grabbed the bowl from her hands.

“Thank you, babe.”

“No problem. Let me drain the pasta for you, okay?” Abby said. You nodded as you turned off the sauce and got to work on the chicken. You drizzled an equal amount of cheese on each piece of chicken before sliding it into the oven. While you were busy with that, you could hear Abby digging around to find the strainer. It didn’t take her long, and before you knew it you could hear the water going down the sink’s drain. After you closed the oven, you leaned against the counter and let out a sigh. Only a few more minutes and dinner would be ready. You watched Abby as she transferred the pasta back to its pot before leaving the strainer by the kitchen sink. When Abby turned around, she gave you a sheepish smile as she waltzed to the stove. She put the pot on one of the empty burners before sauntering over to you. She pulled you by your hips closer to her.

“Can’t wait to eat this food,” she said. “You worked so hard on it.”

“Well, it’s your birthday!” you said excitedly. “I wanted it to be special.”

“And you achieved just that.” Abby leaned in, her lips touching yours so gently and with such passion. Her arms wrapped around you tightly as she pulled you closer. Your hands found their way to her hair as you got enraptured in the kiss. Her hair was down at the moment, and it was always such a sight to see. You loved the way it framed her face, how it seemed to make her features light up. She felt so good against you, and you could smell the coconut shampoo she used and the pine soap that made her smell so fresh and clean. God, she was so addicting, and as much as you loved kissing her, your eyes widened when you remembered the chicken inside the stove.

“Abby,” you said.

“What is it, baby?” she whispered, clearly thinking you were about to ask her something else.

“The chicken!” you said, and pulled away from her immediately. You yanked the stove open and pulled the food out. The delicious scent immediately wafted to your nose, and you could feel your stomach come to life with hunger.

“God, that looks delicious,” Abby said. “Yeah, I’m fucking you good tonight.” You wanted to make a joke about how vulgar her words were, but you already knew what she would say in response: “But you like it, don’t you?” The answer would be “yes,” and that’s why you let the words stay in your mouth.

After the successful dinner, you brought Abby’s gifts out from your bedroom to let her open them up. You bought her the gold bracelet she had been eyeing for a while, a special edition copy of her favorite book, and concert tickets for her favorite band. To say she was pleased was an understatement. After Abby opened her presents, she ran to your pantry to pull out the brand new bottle of wine she had hidden for this occasion. It was a surprise from her to you for such a great day so far. One and a half glasses of wine later, you and Abby were cuddling on the couch together. At least that’s what it had begun as. The two of you nursing your glasses of wine, sitting together underneath a blanket, a random show playing on the TV, until the drinks started to make you both a little frisky. Your glasses had both been abandoned on the coffee table in front of you, Abby’s lips on yours as she pulled you into her lap. Her hands were roaming all over your body. From your ass to your hips, your waist to beneath your bra. While on the outside she continued her movements without hesitation, on the inside she felt herself getting flustered. She had seen the photos you sent her while she was at work—she spent a good few minutes gawking at them—but she didn’t think you were still wearing the lingerie set. The bra you were wearing was lacy and thin, and was that a bow in the center? You would be the death of her. She just wanted all of you in this moment, and no matter how much she pulled you into her body, it wasn’t close enough. Her lips wandered from your jaw down to your neck, leaving scarlet marks there in her wake.

“I’ve wanted you so bad all day, baby,” she whispered. Her hands began fiddling with your nipples through your bra. The fabric was so thin it was like you weren’t wearing anything at all. “So bad. Especially after you teased me while I was at work.” Your lips found hers again, and to your surprise, Abby’s hands moved to your hips as she made you grind onto her. A small whimper left your mouth at the sudden friction, the noises you made immediately swallowed by her kiss.

“Abby,” you moaned. She smiled at the mention of her name, but her lips stayed on yours.

“What is it?” she asked between kisses.

“I need you.” She moved your hips into hers again, the ache in between your legs becoming too much. You just needed her to make it go away. “Let’s go to our room.” You could feel Abby perk up at the request, and she didn’t hesitate to push the blanket off both your bodies. She adjusted your legs so they were wrapped around her waist, strengthening her grip around your ass. She got up from the couch and began walking down the hall to your bedroom. She stopped kissing you to keep an eye on where she was headed, but you started to kiss her all over her neck. She gave your ass a particularly harsh squeeze before she pushed the door open to your room. She continued her march to your bed, setting you down onto the soft mattress before her. When she plopped down next to you in bed, your hands didn’t hesitate to wander towards the hem of her shirt, pulling it off her body desperately. To your delight, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Your lips found their way to her breasts, kissing all over them and her nipples. Before Abby knew it, you had your lips wrapped around her nipples, sucking and kissing them gently.

“Fuck, baby,” she groaned. “Treat me so good.”

“Wanna taste you,” you mumbled against her skin. “Let me eat you out.” Abby wasn’t going to object, because she wanted you to do as you asked just as bad as you did. “Say it,” you commanded.

“I want you to eat me out,” she whined. You kissed down from her breasts to her stomach, fingers ghosting over her pale, blonde happy trail. You pulled her sweatpants down and—No panties. You took her in like the beautiful sight she was.

“You’re not wearing anything underneath at all, Abs?” you teased. “Is that how bad you’ve needed me?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Lay down,” you ordered her. She did as you asked, laying on top of your well-made bed that would soon be messed up when you were done with her. You moved closer to her and grabbed ahold of her thighs, kissing them as you inched upwards towards her center. You could see how wet and needy she was for your touch. You didn’t hesitate to begin sucking at her clit, because you knew that was just the place she needed your attention from the most. You’d spare her some teasing. She moaned as soon as she felt the contact, squirming from the stimulation. You wrapped your arms around her thighs to hold her in place and pull her closer to you. You could feel her pubic hair scratching your face as you dug in, but it was never a sensation you hated. You enjoyed having all of her, every piece of her. You loved her taste on your tongue, the way she moaned and whimpered with every movement of it. You just loved making her feel good.

She kept squirming underneath you, every sound coming out of her either being a whine or a whimper. She always got desperate like this whenever she was receiving, and it was always such a sight. Abby liked to portray herself as this strong, dominant person, but that image of her always quickly dissipated as soon as your mouth was on her pussy. That version of Abby was nowhere to be found, not when you were taking care of her like this, giving her the space to let her guard down for once.

“Baby, you need to stop squirming,” you warned her. “You keep moving away from me. Feels that good, love?”

“So good,” she choked out. You stopped sucking on her clit, instead choosing to circle it with your thumb, only achingly slow. A pathetic whimper left her lips, and you knew she was feeling desperate. That was the point. You wanted to play with her, to make her beg. You kept moving your thumb slowly, no matter how much she whined. She’d have to ask you if she wanted more.

“What’s the matter?” you teased her. “You sound like you’re crying. What’s wrong? Tell me.”

“Need you,” she cried. “Please. I need more.”

“What do you need? Gotta tell me exactly what you want,” you explain.

“I need your mouth on me. Suck on my clit, please.” She was just so needy. How could you deny her? You returned your lips to her cunt, licking her through her folds, admiring how much wetter she had grown in the process. She tasted so sweet on your tongue as you lightly brushed it over her clit before taking it back into your mouth to suck on it again. You could feel her thighs tightening around you, and you let her do it. You knew this meant she was getting close, and you didn’t let up on your actions. You kept kissing and licking and sucking, wanting to do anything your wife may have needed. Her thighs were shaking by this point.

“Gonna cum,” she whimpered. Her hands were gripping onto the bed sheets, her head tilting as she let out rough moans. She was close, and a loud moan left her mouth suddenly. That’s how you knew she came, but you weren’t done. While she was still sensitive, you began to circle your thumb around her clit, little whimpers leaving her lips at the feeling. You reached into the bedside stand and pulled out the dildo you knew she kept there, licking it to get it wet.

“Can you take it, love?” you asked her. She nodded. “What did we talk about? Use your words, Abs,” you scolded her.

“I can take it. Please, put it inside me.” You did as she asked, slowly thrusting it inside her. You didn’t stop circling her clit as you did so, intent on making sure she felt good each step of the way. A groan left Abby’s lips as she felt the dildo slowly entering her inch by inch. The pleasure was overwhelming, and she couldn’t help any of the loud moans leaving her mouth when you were this good to her.

“Just like that, baby,” you encouraged her. “Just like that. Keep moaning for me.” You finally had the dildo to the hilt inside her, leaving it in for a moment to let her adjust. After you let her get comfortable, you pulled it out and let it sink back within her, solidifying a steady pace for her.

“It feels so good. God, it’s so good,” she moaned. You smiled at her reaction, making sure to continue giving her just what she needed. You continued at the pace you set, Abby growing increasingly desperate with each drag of the toy. “Harder. Please. Harder,” she begged. And who were you to deny what your love wanted? You did just as she asked, moving the dildo at the same speed, but with a greater intensity like she asked. There were tears brimming her eyes as she continued moaning. She felt so good, unable to fully put into words just how amazing you made her feel. All she knew is that she didn’t want this to end.

“Are you gonna cum for me, darling?” you asked her.

“Fuck,” she moaned. “Yes, yes, yes. I’m gonna cum.” You continued your actions as she asked, watching as she creamed all over the toy. Abby was catching her breath as you pulled the toy out of her and rushed to put it in the bathroom sink. When you came back, Abby was sitting up in bed with a new fire in your eyes. As soon as you got close enough to her, she grabbed your hand and pulled you back into the bed. She stood up from the bed and got down on her knees in front of you. She didn’t hesitate to pull your jeans down your legs, her eyes immediately landing on the pretty lingerie set underneath your pants. She pulled your legs apart, unable to stop herself from kissing your cunt through your panties, all pretty and lacy in your favorite color. She was so overwhelmed with love and lust, unsure what to do with herself and the rush of emotions filling her body. It didn’t help that you were both a little tipsy. She licked a stripe over the fabric, your hands automatically moving to grab her hair. After a few more teasing licks, she finally pulled your panties down, and she could see how wet you were. You were practically glistening, all pretty and ready just for her. She dug into you immediately, her tongue tasting and feeling every part of you.

“Taste so good, love,” she groaned. The moans leaving your lips were addictive. It was her favorite part of pleasuring you: hearing how good you felt. And when you’d finally cum on her face? That’s what made it all worth it. She continued sucking on your clit, moaning at the feeling of your growing wetness on her lips. Your grip kept tightening on her hair, and she loved it. She was on her knees before you, and she felt that was exactly where she belonged—worshiping you.

“You know what I want?” she suddenly spoke up. She trailed her lips away from your center and began kissing your thighs as she looked up at you. You could tell by the look in her eyes she had an idea. “Want you to sit on my face, love. Can you do that for me?” You couldn’t say no. Not when she was looking up at you like that.

“Yes,” you answered. The switch from your dominant personality from earlier to this submissive one was making Abby’s head spin.

“Good girl. Just what I wanted to hear.” Abby rose from her position on the ground and crawled onto the bed before laying down. “Come on, babe. I’m all ready for you.” You moved from where you were sitting on the edge of the bed towards her body. You straddled her hips and leaned down to kiss her, hoping to convey to her all the love and longing you were feeling. Abby’s hands moved from her sides to rub against your hips before promptly slapping your ass. You let out a yelp at the sensation, but it only made you wetter. “Come on. Stop teasing me. I need to taste you again. Need to show my sweet, little wife how much I love her.” You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when you felt her slap your ass again. “You made me a nice, home-cooked meal to celebrate my birthday, and I think that means I should be putting a baby in you by the end of the night. What do you think?”

“Please, Abs,” you whined. “I want you so bad.”

“Then sit on my face, pretty girl. You know that’s what I want.” You finally pulled your lips away from hers and removed yourself from her lap. You looked down at Abby one last time before sliding one of your legs to rest on the other side of her head until you were practically straddling her. You had yet to set yourself down on her face yet, but Abby waited, her hands already reaching up to start tracing the skin over your ass and hips. You slowly situated yourself against her mouth, something you’ve done countless times before, but the anticipation always consumed you.

The first thing you felt was the warmth of her lips, then the wetness of her tongue as she started to lick your folds. A whine left your lips at the feeling, so desperate for your wife like always. Abby’s grip on your ass was tight as she held you in place, ensuring that she’d be able to devour you just like she wanted. She rocked your hips as she licked your cunt and lapped up all your juices. The friction was making you see stars. She kept moving you, guiding your movements onto her tongue, never once stopping for a second. You felt her let out a small moan, the vibrations reverberating and amplifying your pleasure. Abby suddenly stilled the movements of your hips, but her grip tightened as you felt her start to suck your clit.

“Oh, Abby, just like that,” you moaned. You didn’t have to tell her twice, as her tongue was already swirling around your clit just how you liked it. You felt so good, the pleasure overwhelming your body from just how good Abby was treating you. She was definitely keeping her promise from earlier. You moaned at the feeling of her tongue working against you. You could feel the knot growing in your stomach, building faster and faster. The moans leaving your lips were desperate, but you couldn’t help it when this was how Abby made you feel. She made you feel alive, like your whole body was on fire.

“I’m close,” you moaned. “I’m so close.” Your hands gripped onto your thighs as Abby’s grip was too strong for you to move anywhere else. Instead, you steadily rocked your hips against her face, the tip of her nose knocking into your clit. The friction and combined with the way Abby was eating you out was intense, and within seconds you felt yourself cumming all over her face. Abby continued sucking on your clit to fuck you through your orgasm, but she wasn’t done with you yet. She tapped onto your thighs, a sign you recognized as her asking you to get off her. You did as she asked and removed yourself from her face to settle into the sheets. Abby sat up in bed, and she wasted no time in kissing you wildly. You could feel the wetness on her face and taste yourself on her tongue, completely lost in the feeling of her. You could do this with her for hours if she wanted. You felt her reach down to your t-shirt and raised it over your head as she immediately ogled at the pretty bra you had on. It matched your panties, and it looked so gorgeous on you. She kissed you hungrily, palming at your breasts. She reached behind you to unclip your bra and threw it somewhere randomly. She was back on you in an instant, clearly not satisfied.

“You want my cock in you, baby? Want me to fill you up?”

“God, yes, Abby,” you answered.

“I’ll go get it.” You watched as she retreated to your closet that held most of your toys, the main one being her strap. She returned to your bedside with both the flesh-colored dildo and harness in her hands. “Help me put it on, honey.” You did as she asked and moved towards the edge of the bed. Abby slipped her legs through the harness, but you helped her tighten the straps and adjust it on her hips. She stroked your cheeks and hair as you did so with a soft smile on her face.

“Okay, it’s ready, Abs,” you announced.

“Thank you, baby. Why don’t you turn around and get on your hands and knees for me, huh?” You didn’t hesitate to do as she asked, getting yourself comfortable in the position that was without a doubt Abby’s favorite. You felt Abby step closer to your body, the strap momentarily pressing against your skin. You heard Abby spitting, and before you knew it you felt something wet coating your cunt. She rubbed the strap through your folds, teasing your clit before bringing it back up to your hole. You were still so wet and ready for her; it made her feel lightheaded. Abby started teasing your entrance with her cock, and you let out a small whimper in response. She pushed it in a tiny bit, but just that small thrust had you whining. She pulled it out, then put it back in the same amount, then out again. She was teasing you, and she reveled in every moment of it. She did the same pattern again, this time pushing it in up to its head. She could hear the desperate whines leaving your mouth, but she was a bully when it came to teasing.

“Abby!” you whined. She let out a quiet chuckle.

“Is something wrong, baby?” she asked, pulling out yet again.

“Yes! You’re teas—” Before you could finish, she pushed it back into you again, nearly half-way now. It caught you off guard, a gasp leaving your lips at the sensation.

“What was that?” she asked.

“You’re teasing me,” you said. Abby pulled out of you again, and it left you feeling so empty. You just wanted her deep inside of you. “Please, Abby. I need you inside me. Please.”

“Fuck. I can’t tell you no, baby.” Without warning, you felt her shove the entire thing inside you this time. You moaned loudly at the sudden force. “Like that? Wanted me deep inside you like this?”

“Yes,” you answered. Abby grabbed onto your hips roughly, preparing herself as she slid her dick out of you a tiny bit before slamming it back in, then repeating. She was starting off slow and steady, but she was giving you what you needed. Your moans were already in full force, bouncing off the walls and filling her ears like sweet music. She got off on hearing you just as much as she did from seeing how you looked while she fucked you from behind. She started to pick up her pace a little bit, and she could see you reaching to grab at the bedsheets. She couldn’t help the smirk that appeared across her face.

“That’s it,” she encouraged. “Just like that. Got you going dumb on my cock already, huh?” She knew she wasn’t going to get an answer out of you since your face was buried in the mattress, but she was still going to ask. “Taking it so good, baby. Fuck, I love seeing you like this. All pretty and dumb on my cock. When I’m done with you, I’m gonna fill you all the way up. You’d like that?”

“Please. I need you to fill me up,” you cried out. Abby continued her pace, but when she heard your voice, she could tell that you were crying. It turned her on even more.

“Gonna let me cum inside and make you my pretty, little cumslut? Want me to get you fucking pregnant?” she asked.

“Yes!” you cried out. Abby was many things, but a composed woman at a time like this wasn’t one of them.

“Fuck,” she grunted. She loved the enthusiasm of your answer, speeding up the pace of her thrusts. She could feel the harness rubbing against her clit, and it was driving her wild. She kept fucking into you, pulling your hips into hers over and over again. Yeah, she was going to fuck you good, and she was going to make sure you were screaming the whole night. She could hear your skin slapping against hers as she continued her pace, and before she knew it her moans were joining in with yours. She just felt so amazing. Everything about this moment did.

“Abby! Fuck, Abby, you’re so deep. It’s so good.” You words were incoherent babbles, and that’s how Abby knew she was doing a good job for sure.

“I know, baby. I’m fucking you just right, huh? Just like you need.” She barely managed to get the words out, panting and grunting from her own pleasure. It just felt so good to take you in this position. You were having a hard time speaking yourself, your brain all fuzzy and fucked out. The feeling of Abby’s cock dragging inside your walls and that spot it was hitting were more than enough to fuck you dumb. It was all you ever needed. You could feel the tears that were drying on your cheeks as Abby continued to overstimulate you. You could feel yourself getting closer yet again, the feeling more than you could bear.

“Abby. Abby. I think I’m cumming,” you cried. “I’m gonna cum.” You were too out of it to speak, so caught up in the feeling of her inside you and her promises of breeding you. It all made you feel so good, the ideas of her cumming inside you upping your pleasure by a tenfold.

“Cum on my cock, baby. Know you can do it.” Abby didn’t let up her pace one bit, and you reached down to rub your clit as she fucked into you. Fuck. There was no one like Abby, and soon you found yourself cumming harder than ever. The moan that was ripped from your body sounded more like a scream as you continued to rub your clit while it washed over you. Abby was close, too, and hearing the sounds of your pleasure was enough to send her over the edge. Abby grunted loudly, feeling herself cum as the movement of her strap stilled inside you. You both stayed like that for a second to cool down, and after a moment Abby slowly pulled out of you. You moved out of the position you were in and collapsed on the bed. Abby pulled the harness and strap off her body, abandoning it on the bedside table. She’d leave cleaning it for later. She immediately dived into bed, fixing the covers for you both as she pulled you into her arms. She started kissing your forehead as she rubbed your back.

“You okay, love?”

“Yeah,” you answered. “Just tired.”

“Me, too. You did so good for me, baby.”

“Thanks, Abs. You were really good for me, too.”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “I love you. I’m so sleepy,” you whispered. Abby laughed at that.

“I love you, too. Now, let’s go to sleep, babe. I’m off tomorrow, remember?”

“Can we get coffee tomorrow?” you asked.

“Of course, baby. We’ll go shopping, too, if you want.”

“You’re so great, Abs. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she replied, watching how your eyes fluttered shut. What a sleepy thing, she thought, but she’d have you no other way. That’s what she promised in her vows.

[g3tinl0ser]

The start

MASTERLIST

<<<PREV

The elevator doors were about to close when a hand shot through the gap, stopping them just in time. You sighed, already feeling the weight of your morning dragging on. But then he stepped in..

Drool

Bruce Wayne, your devastatingly handsome boss, looks as polished and effortlessly perfect as ever. You wanted to be annoyed, trying to not look at yourself in the walls of metal. There was an effortless charm about him that made him seem both approachable and untouchable at once. 

Tall and broad-shouldered, he carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who had seen the highs and lows of life and emerged stronger for it. His dark hair, now tinged with hints of silver at the temples, lent him an air of wisdom that complemented the boyish grin he occasionally let slip.

“Good morning,” he said, flashing you one of those rare, genuine smiles that made it hard to look away. He was holding two to-go cups in one each hand and a small paper bag gripped between a few fingers.

“Morning, Mr. Wayne,” you managed, trying not to sound as flustered as you felt. He smelled so good, he always did. No amount of morning sickness could keep your mouth from watering when he walked by and the breeze carried his cologne over your desk. Today though, his signature scent was accompanied by something else. Whatever it was was almost equally as mouth-watering. 

“I’m glad I caught you,” he said, stepping to the side but still close enough that his presence filled the small space. “I remembered you mentioned not feeling well in the mornings, so…” He held out the cup. “It’s peppermint and ginger tea. Supposed to help with morning sickness. I hope it’s the right kind.” Your eyes widened, the thoughtful gesture catching you completely off guard. “Oh… wow, thank you. That’s really kind of you.”

He smiled again, softer this time, taking another small step into your space. His smile grew just a tad when a light blush rose to your cheeks.  “I also got you a few pastries from that bakery down the street. I’ve seen you bring them in before, and I figured… well, you probably haven’t had much of an appetite lately.” He offered you the bag, his expression warm but subtly concerned.

You took it hesitantly, glancing up at him. “You didn’t have to do this, Mr. Wayne.”

“Bruce,” he corrected gently. “And I wanted to. You’ve been working hard, and I’ve noticed you skipping meals. Someone has to look out for you.” Your chest tightened at the unexpected kindness, and you found yourself staring at him longer than you intended. His blue eyes were so piercing, so sincere, and for a moment, the air in the elevator felt heavier.

Bruce held your gaze, his expression shifting slightly. He looked like he wanted to say something else, something more personal, but instead, he just smiled faintly. “You know, you should take better care of yourself. It’s important, especially now.” 

You nodded, your fingers tightening slightly around the bag. “I’ll try. Thank you, Bruce.”He tilted his head, studying you with that same quiet intensity. He looked like a man trying to solve a puzzle, one he wasn’t sure he wanted to finish because the stakes were high.

Meanwhile, your own thoughts were racing. You’d sworn off billionaire playboys after Tony, swore you’d never let yourself get tangled up with another charming, too handsome for his own good CEO. But Bruce… he was different. He wasn’t just kind; he was thoughtful in a way that felt genuine. And that was dangerous.

The elevator dinged, breaking the spell between you. The doors slid open, and Bruce gestured for you to go first. “We should both get to work. But if you need anything, at all, just let me know, alright?”You nodded, stepping out into the hallway, the bag and tea still clutched in your hands. “Thank you… Bruce.”

As the doors closed behind him, you caught one last glimpse of his smile, small, but unmistakably warm. And even though you told yourself it meant nothing, you couldn’t quite stop the flutter in your chest as you walked toward your desk.

A FEW HOURS LATER

Bruce sat back in his chair, the corners of his mouth tugging slightly downward in thought as Erik Selvig rose from his seat. The meeting had been productive, but Bruce’s usual laser-focused attention had been… divided. His eyes kept straying toward the glass wall of his office, where you stood with a few of the other PAs, laughing softly as they gestured animatedly about something. The warmth in your smile was captivating, so genuine, so rare in a place like this.

Erik noticed. Of course, he did. The old astrophysicist wasn’t one to miss much, and he’d known Bruce since he was barely tall enough to reach the keys of his father’s old piano.“Bruce,” Erik said, his tone casual but carrying a note of knowing wisdom, “if you’re done pretending to listen to me, perhaps I could offer some advice that doesn’t involve funding questionable experiments.”

Bruce blinked, startled out of his thoughts. “What?”

Erik chuckled, glancing through the glass wall toward you. “You’re not as subtle as you think, my boy. Your eyes have been glued to her for half the meeting.” Bruce opened his mouth to protest, but Erik raised a hand to cut him off. “Don’t bother denying it. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the same look your father used to have when your mother walked into a room.” Bruce sighed, leaning back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s… complicated.”

“Complicated,” Erik repeated, shaking his head with a wry smile. “That’s the excuse of every man who’s too scared to take a risk. Let me tell you something, Bruce. Good women don’t stay single for long. And from where I’m standing, she seems like a very good woman.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking back to you as you laughed at something one of the PAs said. The sound was soft, melodic, and it sent a pang through his chest. “She’s been through a lot,” Bruce said quietly, his voice more vulnerable than Erik had heard in years. “I don’t want to make things harder for her. She’s just starting to find her footing again.”

Erik stepped closer, resting a hand on the edge of Bruce’s desk. “And maybe what she needs is someone who’s willing to stand beside her, steady her when things feel shaky. Someone who cares enough to show her she doesn’t have to do it all alone.”

Bruce’s gaze didn’t leave you, his expression conflicted. “She’s… pregnant.”

Erik nodded slowly, his face softening. “And? That doesn’t change anything, except that it makes her strength all the more admirable. Bruce, you’ve spent your whole life taking care of this city, putting everyone else first. Maybe it’s time you allowed yourself something good. Someone good.”

Bruce sighed again, running a hand through his dark hair. “It’s not that simple, Erik. After everything with… Stark. She has every reason to keep me at arm’s length. I can’t just…”

“Shoot your shot,” Erik interrupted, his tone firm but kind. “You’re Bruce Wayne. If anyone knows how to make the impossible possible, it’s you. But don’t wait too long. Life doesn’t always give you second chances.” Bruce didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on you as you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear and smiled at one of your coworkers. Erik straightened, picking up his briefcase with a knowing grin.

“Think about it, Bruce. And maybe try taking advice from an old man who’s seen a thing or two about love.”

With that, Erik left the office, leaving Bruce alone with his thoughts. He leaned forward, elbows on his desk, and let out a slow breath. His eyes drifted back to you once more, and for the first time, the idea of risking his heart didn’t seem quite as daunting. Maybe Erik was right. Maybe it was time to stop overthinking and start showing you that he could be the man you deserved.

20 MINUTES LATER

The hum of the office was muted as Bruce somewhat casually walked out of his office and leaned against the corner of your desk. You looked up from your computer, nerves flickering in your eyes as if you were already bracing yourself for something he might say. He could tell, he always could. You carried so much weight on those small shoulders, and it made his chest ache.

He smiled softly, not his usual polished "Wayne Enterprises CEO" grin, but something real, something just for you. "I hope the tea helped this morning," he started, his voice low, soothing. You nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It did. Thank you… again.”

Bruce studied you for a moment, his sharp blue eyes taking in every detail, the faint tension in your posture, the way your hands fidgeted with the edge of your notebook. He wanted to say so much, to tell you everything he’d been thinking since the moment he realized how much you meant to him. But he knew he had to be careful. This wasn’t about grand declarations; this was about showing you that you could trust him, that he wasn’t like the others who had let you down.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, a rare show of vulnerability from the usually composed Bruce Wayne. “I’ve been doing some reading.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Reading?”

“About… pregnancy,” he admitted, a faint flush rising to his cheeks and neck.  “And how to support someone going through it. What you might need. What you shouldn’t have to do alone.” He paused, offering a small, self-deprecating chuckle. “I think Alfred thought I’d lost my mind this morning when I insisted on making an extra stop to pick up your tea and pastries.”

Your lips twitched in a faint smile, but the nervousness was still there, lingering in your eyes.

Bruce shifted slightly, leaning closer but still giving you space. “Look, I know you’ve had… reasons to keep people at arm’s length. And I understand why you might not trust someone like me, not right away. But I need you to know…” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care about the circumstances, or what anyone else might think. I care about you. And I’ll be here, as long as you’ll let me.”

Your breath caught, and for a moment, you just stared at him, trying to process the weight of his words. “I’m not expecting anything from you,” he added gently. “I just want you to know that you don’t have to go through this alone. You deserve to have someone in your corner, someone who actually shows up. And I want to be that for you.”

The air between you felt heavy, but not in a bad way. It was charged with something unspoken, something that made your chest tighten and your eyes sting. “Bruce…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, uncertain but touched.

“Take your time,” he said, his voice steady and warm. “I’ll be here when you’re ready. No rush.”

And with that, he gave you one last reassuring smile before straightening up. “Now, if you need me, I’ll be in my office. And don’t forget to eat. Alfred will personally hunt me down if I let you skip lunch again.”

He turned and walked away, leaving you sitting there, staring after him with a knot of emotions swirling in your chest. For the first time in a long time, you felt something unfamiliar.

Hope.

A FEW MONTHS LATER

The bedroom was a whirlwind of fabric, makeup, and accessories as Natasha expertly maneuvered around the chaos. She held up a pair of earrings to your face, squinting before shaking her head and tossing them back onto the bed. “Too much. You need subtle. Understated elegance,” she smirked, digging through your jewelry box.

You sat in front of the mirror, absently running your fingers over your growing bump. The dress Bruce had sent for you, a sleek, floor-length number in deep navy blue, hugged your figure perfectly, highlighting your curves and baby bump in a way that felt both elegant and daunting. 

“What if this is a mistake?” you asked softly, your reflection revealing the worry etched on your face. Natasha froze mid-search, then turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “What part? Letting me pick out your earrings, or going to the gala with Bruce Wayne?”

You gave her a pointed look, your lips curving into a nervous smile. “You know what I mean. I’m his assistant, Nat. Pregnant and his assistant. People are going to talk.”

Natasha walked over, resting her hands on your shoulders and leaning down to meet your gaze in the mirror. “Let them talk. You know what they’ll really be saying? That Bruce Wayne finally met a woman worth his time. You’ve been working your ass off, even while growing a whole human, and you’ve still managed to keep that man’s schedule running smooth. If anyone has a problem with it, they can deal with me.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “It’s not just about them, though. What if this ruins… whatever it is we have? What if I’m just… a passing thing for him?”

Natasha’s eyes softened, and she crouched beside you, her hands now on your knees. “Look, I get it. After what you went through with Tony, trusting someone again, especially someone like Bruce, it’s terrifying. But let me tell you what I see. I see a man who looks at you like you hung the moon. I see someone who doesn’t give a damn about what people think and who’s spent months showing you, not telling you, that he’s in this for the long haul. Bruce Wayne isn’t the kind of man to do something halfway, and you? You’re not a passing thing to him. You’re it.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, and you quickly blinked them away, smiling softly. “You really think so?”

Natasha stood, placing her hands on her hips and giving you a mock glare. “I know so. Now, stop doubting yourself, finish your tea, and let me get these curls to behave. Bruce Wayne doesn’t stand a chance when he sees you tonight.”

You took a deep breath, nodding as a small flicker of confidence began to spark in your chest. Natasha was right, Bruce had been nothing but patient, kind, and attentive. Maybe tonight was the night to let yourself believe in something more.

AT WAYNE MANOR

Bruce stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his cufflinks with calm precision. The deep navy suit Alfred had selected for him fit like a glove, and the silk tie was perfectly knotted, as always. He didn’t seem rushed or distracted, his every movement deliberate, yet Alfred caught the faintest trace of something in his expression, a quiet resolve, a determination that went deeper than the usual businesslike demeanor Bruce wore to these events.

Alfred, ever the observer, approached with a knowing smile. “Nervous, Master Wayne?”

Bruce glanced at him in the mirror, one brow raising slightly. “Should I be?”

“Well,” Alfred began, carefully choosing his words, “it’s not every evening one decides to make things official with the woman of their dreams. And I dare say you’re not known for… grand romantic gestures.”

Bruce chuckled softly, shaking his head as he adjusted his watch. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, Alfred. I’ve done everything I needed to do to get to this point. She knows how I feel. I see it in the way she looks at me now, the way she leans in when we talk. That smile, ” His voice softened slightly, his lips curling into a faint smile of his own. “Shes got a smile thats just for me.”

Alfred tilted his head, impressed by the certainty in Bruce’s voice. “Still, it’s not often one sees you this… committed. It’s refreshing, dare I say. You’ve been quite the man of action these last few months. Late-night research on prenatal care, reorganizing the company kitchen staff to stock her favorite foods, not to mention the mornings you’ve spent stopping for tea and pastries. It’s almost as if you’ve taken to courtship as seriously as crime-fighting.”

Bruce turned fully, facing Alfred, his expression steady and composed, but his eyes held a rare warmth. “Because I am serious, Alfred. I’ve been serious since the day I saw her in my office, standing there, trying to be professional while she was clearly overwhelmed. She’s changed everything for me. I’m not doing this as Batman, or as the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. I’m doing this as Bruce Wayne, because I want her. All of her. The late nights, the laughter, the tears, the chaos. The baby. I want her in my life. Permanently.”

Alfred smiled, his chest swelling with a quiet pride. “Well, I must admit, sir, I’ve begun to think the world of her. But it seems you’ve truly outdone yourself this time.”

Bruce smirked faintly, picking up his jacket and sliding it on with ease. “You don’t outdo yourself when it comes to someone like her, Alfred. You just show up, every single day, and prove that you’re worth the risk.”

“Indeed,” Alfred said, stepping forward to adjust Bruce’s lapel. “And if I may, Master Wayne, I have no doubt that tonight will be everything you hope for. She’d be a fool to say no.”

Bruce gave a small nod, his jaw set with quiet determination. “She’s not going to say no. I know her. She’s just waiting for me to say it out loud.”

And with that, Bruce strode toward the door, confidence radiating off him like an aura. Whatever happened tonight, he was ready. For her. For you. For the future he was building, not as a billionaire or a vigilante, but as a man in love.

The doorbell rang, and your heart jumped. You took one last look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hands nervously over the silk of your gown. Natasha had insisted on subtle makeup and a soft updo, letting your natural glow take center stage.

“You’ve got this,” she whispered from behind, her hand briefly squeezing your shoulder before she slipped out of sight to give you privacy.

You made your way to the door, your heels clicking softly against the floor, and when you opened it, Bruce stood there, tall, handsome, and absolutely breathtaking.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other as the world seemed to fall away. He looked every bit the part of the dashing billionaire in his impeccably tailored navy suit that perfectly matched your dress. But it wasn’t the suit that left you breathless, it was the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing that existed, like he was seeing something sacred.

Bruce’s breath hitched as his eyes slowly traveled from your face to your baby bump and back again. “You…” He paused, his voice low and thick with emotion. “You look stunning.” Your dress flowed effortlessly, draping in all the right places, and hugged your baby bump just enough to showcase it without being overbearing.

A blush crept up your cheeks, and you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly shy under the intensity of his gaze. “Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, Mr. Wayne.”

His lips curved into that faint smile that always made your knees a little weak. “I could say the same for you, Ms. Y/L/N. But ‘pretty well’ doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

There was a pause as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out instinctively to rest gently on your waist. His thumb brushed over the fabric of your dress, and you felt your pulse quicken at the warmth of his touch.

“Are you ready?” he asked softly, his voice laced with something deeper, something unspoken.

You nodded, unable to find your words for a moment. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

He offered his arm, and you took it, but before you could step outside, Bruce stopped, turning to face you fully. His free hand came up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice a quiet but steady promise. “You’re incredible. Beautiful. And I don’t care who’s there tonight or what they think. I just want you to know… you’re with me. Always.”

Your breath caught, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, the sincerity in his eyes making your chest tighten. “Bruce…”

“I’m in awe of you,” he continued, his voice soft but unyielding. “Everything about you. Everything you’ve been through, everything you’re doing now, it’s more than I deserve. But I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you never doubt how much you mean to me.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you bit your lip, nodding as a small, trembling smile broke across your face. “You’re… you’re kind of amazing, you know that?”

He chuckled softly, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest over your hand on his arm. “Let’s get through tonight first, and then we’ll see about amazing.”

With that, he led you to the car waiting at the curb, his hand never leaving yours. And as the city lights reflected off the windows, you couldn’t help but feel like this moment, this night, was the beginning of something truly extraordinary.

>>>>>NEXT

[josnhoes]

Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 2

[Part one]

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, stalking, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, drugging, mentioned abduction, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older

Focuses on Tim Drake

---

For the following week you'd noticed one or a few of the bat brood following you in the evenings. You weren't sure *why*, but it did make you feel a bit safer so you didn't complain. It was Gotham, any sense of safety was welcome.

The small book shop and coffee place you worked at didn't get a ton of customers. It was a hole in the wall style place, sometimes it got new customers but a majority we're regulars. There were also a few college students who used the late hours to buy a single coffee, then use the free wifi to do class work. Today's shift had you on coffee duty.

The bell chimed, signaling a customer or what you *hoped* was a customer. You looked up and were flabbergasted to see Timothy Drake, the co-ceo of Wayne enterprises. Normally you didn't pay much attention to CEOs of anything, but the Waynes were like the poster family for Gotham. One way or another you learned their faces and the names.

As he approached the counter you did your best to smile and not seem nervous. "Hello sir can I help you today?"

The look he gave you almost seemed to be taking you apart peice by peice; assessing you down to your soul. "I'll take a large coffee and as many shots of espresso as you can legally give me. For here."

You supposed today was going to be one of those™️ days. "Of course sir. Feel free to sit where ever you like. Would you like something to eat too?"

"No thanks." He seemed to soften now and once you gave the total he paid with a nice tip. Though he chose the spot closest to you to work. Probably because that was the best area for wifi signal you supposed.

You got his order out fast since it looked like he needed caffeine more then oxygen at this point. As you placed the drink down you had the urge to talk to him but decided against it.

Tim had been having a trying week. He could balance his nightlife and the company fairly well; but the addition of you had been a problem. He didn't know what it was about you that pulled him and his family in. He'd gone over your entire life that he could find multiple times now, and nothing ever changed. No secret identity, no shady acts, aside from some strange tumblr activity you were clear. Mind you all activity on tumblr was weird as he came to see. The entire batfam either made accounts just to follow you, the ones had them already followed you too.

The family adored you and he...was no exception. He tried to be, the way his family was spiraling and for one civilian was alarming. But he couldn't fight it. You were special. You *needed* them to keep you safe. You obviously couldn't be trusted to do it on your own, just today you forgot to lock your home.

While yes it made putting the cameras in your home easier, it also meant that you could have gotten robbed or worse. You'd admitted to being spacey at times online, made a joke of it but it was dangerous.

He finally took the time to sip on the coffee. It was good, better than most places he had. You clearly knew your way around the machine. Would you make him coffee in the mornings? Tell him to have a good day as you called him your favorite big brother? He needed to know.

The more he watched you, the more he worried for you. What if you got hurt? Not even in a rogue attack but in general. You obviously cooked for yourself, and cleaned. Knives and chemicals? Too dangerous for his baby sibling, and he hated knowing if something *did* happen you might be alone.

He'd speed up the family's preparations for you. You'd fight them at first so they had to prepare a special room. But you'd see how well they cared for you, how much they all loved you, and everything they could provide. Hopefully the room will be ready soon.

[etherrreal]

"if it's with you"

Pairing: todoroki x fem!reader Genre: fluff, very light hurt/comfort if you squint Summary: as pro-heroes, downtime is especially hard to come by. when you and your boyfriend todoroki finally get the weekend off after a few particularly hellish weeks on the job, you’re determined to make the most of it. the universe, however, seems to have other plans— and a twist you never would’ve expected.WC: 9,889 Warnings: pro-hero!au where both todoroki and reader are pros, like one suggestive line buried somewhere, mentions of divorce and past bad relationships, reader has some trust issues and has also been through A Lot but she’s working on it, todoroki being the best bf ever A/N: my first mha fic! and before anyone asks, no i haven’t read the ending 😅 i’ll read it one day but until then, it’s none of my business <3 -Dawn

Your suffering begins, as it so often does, with the best of intentions.

You wake in the comfort of your boyfriend Todoroki’s arms, the two of you tangled together in the sheets of his bed, your back pressed comfortably against his front. The morning’s first rays of sunlight peek in through the gaps in the curtains, casting the entire bedroom in a warm, golden glow.

You smile to yourself, despite the early hour, contented by the simple fact that there will be no alarms going off this morning, no patrols to attend or mission reports to file. For once, there’s nowhere else either of you needs to be except right here, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

Today is a special day, after all, the first one both you and Todoroki have had off in ages as a result of your demanding and often impossible schedules as pro-heroes. Unsurprisingly, you planned to spend it and the rest of the upcoming weekend together, determined to make up for all the time you’ve had to spend apart lately.

You shift in his arms, just enough so that you can admire him properly, and find yourself struck —though not for the first time— by how unfairly handsome he is, all mussed up hair and perfect features as he rests peacefully beside you. He’s always been devastatingly attractive, beautiful in a way that leaves people starstruck and enamored, that makes them wonder if he’s even real, and this is just as true of him when he’s asleep as it is when he’s awake.

Even now, you can’t help but stare at him, taking in the pretty curve of his lips, the strong slope of his jaw. He always looks so peaceful when he sleeps; softer, too, and it fills you with both gratitude and satisfaction, knowing you’re the only one who gets to see him like this, all serene and unguarded. It’s a testament to how deeply he trusts you, how much the two of you have grown together since you officially started dating a little over four months ago.

You’re tempted to curl further into him and fall right back asleep, letting yourself share in the warmth and comfort of his embrace in the way you so rarely get to do. That temptation only grows when he makes a sleepy little humming sound and nuzzles his face further into your neck, his lips brushing against your throat, right along your pulse point.

It takes a tremendous amount of effort not to fall back into him after that, but somehow, you’re able to steel yourself against it, knowing that what you’ve planned for today involves you having to leave bed sooner rather than later.

You know better than anyone that Todoroki’s had a pretty rough few weeks, even by pro-hero standards, enduring multiple overnight shifts, extra patrols, and mountains of paperwork he’s gone through great lengths to avoid.

The metaphoric cherry on top of it all was a fight with the escaped villain Mayhem that left him with a dislocated shoulder and you with a concussion that you know he still blames himself for, even though you’re the one who jumped in without thinking, as you are often prone to do.

It’s why you promised yourself, as you packed your bag for his apartment the night before, that you would do everything in your power to make this weekend together the best one yet, spoiling him with the kind of care and affection he so rarely affords himself. And the first step in your best weekend ever plan is to surprise him with breakfast, which is what leads you to slip out of his grasp and into the kitchen as stealthily as you can manage.

It’s far from an easy feat. Todoroki’s a bit of a serial cuddler, especially in the mornings, with an iron grip that latches around your waist and all but crushes you to him. But with a little bit of patience and a lot of maneuvering ��plus a small boost from your wind-based quirk— you manage to escape and start on breakfast without waking him, leaving him behind with a fond look and a light kiss on his forehead.

And, to your utter delight, everything turns out pretty well. Amazingly well, in fact— or at least it starts off that way.

You locate almost all of the ingredients and materials you need for breakfast with relative ease, humming a little tune to yourself as you get to work. Soon there are strips of bacon sizzling in the skillet, the griddle you set on the stovetop heating up in preparation for the pancakes you plan to make. The mix itself sits in an All Might-themed bowl on the counter, sweetened with fresh fruit and just a pinch of cinnamon.

All that’s left for you to do is find a separate pan for the eggs, which you quickly spot on the top shelf in the cabinet, just out of your reach. Still, you refuse to let that deter you, climbing up on one of the nearby stools to grab it.

Why, of course, you willingly choose to get up on a stool when you’re a certified pro-hero with an entire wind quirk at your disposal —one that quite literally lets you breeze through your problems— will remain a mystery to you. Looking back, you’d like to think it’s a consequence of you working too hard, but really, the more you think about it, the more convinced you become that it’s really just a consequence of you being an idiot.

You’ve just latched onto the handle of the pan and are starting to bring it down when your foot slips. Immediately, you begin to panic, and it’s like every bit of pro-hero training you’ve received over the years vanishes instantly from your brain, leaving you almost comically off-balance and flailing. All of the instincts you thought you’d honed to perfection fail you at once, and just like that, you’re tumbling off the stool before you can stop yourself.

You land on your ass on the kitchen floor with a distressed and undignified yelp, your foot twisting painfully as you go. The rest of the pots and pans on the shelf follow you down, clattering onto the floor around you in a way you’re certain the entire apartment complex is able to hear.

You lift your hands automatically, shielding yourself with an invisible wall of air that protects you from getting smacked around with a frying pan like you’re some sort of cartoon character. It isn’t much, but it’s the best you can do for now, the rest of your senses distracted by the sudden throbbing in your ankle and the sheer bafflement —not to mention complete mortification— you feel for being in this situation in the first place.

Todoroki is next to you before you’re even able to form a coherent thought, having woken up and rushed into the kitchen after you the moment he heard all the commotion, which, admittedly, was probably loud as hell.

His mismatched eyes are wide with worry as he examines you, the trail of ice you see behind him letting you know that he must’ve used his quirk to get to you as quickly as he could. You think you’d be more touched by it if the majority of your energy wasn’t currently being focused on trying not to die of embarrassment.

“Are you all right, love?” Todoroki asks, voice filled with concern as he helps you sit up into a more comfortable position. “Does anything hurt?”

You shake your head before he even finishes the question, plastering a smile to your face. Your ego may be bruised beyond belief, your pride all but ready to shrivel up into a ball and disappear, but you'll be damned if you let this put a damper on your weekend, especially when it’s barely even begun.

“No, no, everything’s okay. I’m good, really, let me just—”

What’s left of your sentence quickly transforms into a wince, pain flaring in your ankle and shooting up your leg the second you try to stand up and put pressure on it. Todoroki is quick to reach out and steady you, lowering you back to the floor carefully.

“What happened?” He’s both curious and concerned as he lifts your injured foot and sets it gently onto his lap. He places his right hand on your ankle, fingers cool and careful with the iciness of his quirk, providing you with instant relief that has you sighing and squeezing his other hand gratefully. “Don’t tell me you were training on your day off.”

“I wish,” you huff, letting out a humorless laugh. At least then, you’d feel less annoyed about it, having already accepted such injuries as part of the reality of your work as a pro-hero, but nope, no such luck.

Instead, the injury you’re currently suffering is one that was both completely avoidable and partially self-inflicted. Leave it to a common kitchen stool to humble the shit out of you; and so early in the morning, too.

“I was trying to make breakfast before you woke up.” You can’t help pouting over it, heaving a disappointed sigh as your gaze falls to your lap. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, it worked.” Todoroki places a hand beneath your chin to make you look at him, the smile he offers as loving as it is teasing. “Consider me thoroughly surprised.”

You purse your lips, shooting him a flat look that makes him laugh. You can’t stop yourself from softening at the sound, especially when he leans in close and presses a soothing kiss to your forehead, smoothing away the furrow of your brow.

When he pulls away, you’re all but putty in his hands, the pain in your ankle reduced to a mere afterthought in the wake of how gentle he’s being with you now, how attentive he always is to every single one of your needs. You’ve always known he’d make an incredible partner, even before you started dating, and the fact that you’re the one who gets to witness it now never fails to make your heart stutter with glee.

“Come on,” he says, entirely unaware of the effect he has on you, his voice steady and reassuring. “Let’s get you somewhere a little more comfortable.”

His words snap you back to reality, returning your attention to the situation at hand. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he means to carry you, and while normally you’d jump at any chance to have his hands on you, the fact that it’s only happening as a result of your own clumsiness has you feeling a special kind of pathetic that you’re not entirely comfortable with.

It’s why you’re so quick to try to talk him out of it, placing a hand on his chest to stop him— or, at the very least, slow him down.

“I’m fine, Shouto, really,” you insist, waving your free hand back and forth in some vague gesture of reassurance. “You don’t have to—”

Todoroki cuts you off by scooping you into his arms, ignoring your protests about the food you still have cooking and the kitchen being a mess in favor of starting on a path back to his bedroom. Once you’re there, he deposits you safely on his bed with an effortlessness that would normally have you swooning, if only you weren’t so annoyed with yourself right now.

He takes the time to make sure you’re comfortable, fluffing up the pillows behind you and handing you your phone, like he can tell you’re just itching to complain about your misfortune in the group chat. It doesn’t make you feel like any less of a bumbling idiot, but it does temper your irritation for the time being, so much so that you don’t even protest when he excuses himself from the room in search of supplies.

He isn’t gone long, returning only a moment later with a handful of items from his hero duffle. You’re still pouting when he does, glaring at your swollen ankle as if that’ll be enough to make it go back to normal. You sit up when you see him approach, taking note of the first aid kit and the ice pack in his hands.

He takes a seat on the bed beside you and lifts your swollen ankle into his lap. You watch as he turns it back and forth to assess the damage, careful not to injure you any further.

In no time at all, you find yourself utterly transfixed by his movements. Your phone is still in your hand, the screen lit up with a half-typed text to your friends, but right now he’s all you’re interested in looking at, mesmerized by the gentle press of his hands against your skin and the delicate, almost reverent way he handles you.

You’re no stranger to the process of patching up your wounds, having experienced countless injuries over the course of your pro hero career, but what is new for you is letting someone else be responsible for it. You’ve never been good at asking for help, much less allowing yourself to be taken care of, convinced by an ugly voice in the back of your mind that doing so would reveal a weakness you might never recover from.

You like to think you’ve gotten better at it over the years, but old habits die hard. Your hyper-independence has always been a point of contention in your relationships, made worse by partners whose reactions to your vulnerability only served to remind you why you kept it hidden in the first place.

With Todoroki, though, it’s different. Years of friendship before you started dating have ensured that he’s seen you at your worst, probably more times than you would’ve liked. He’s been there for all your bad decisions and all your stupid mistakes, through shitty breakups and even shittier fights with villains— and not once has he ever faltered in his support of you, nor has he let any of it change his opinion of you.

Even now, he’s still taking care of you, and you’re actually letting him, knowing he’s someone you can trust to do so without any fear of appearing weak or less than. You know you’ve been kind of a brat this morning, huffing and puffing as he tends to your injury with all the petulance of a pouting child, but he’s taken it all in stride, soothing away your frustration with gentle hands and even gentler kisses against your wrists and forehead.

You’ve never been one to open your heart so easily, never saw any reason to, but you take one look at Todoroki and you know— you’ve never loved anyone the way you love him.

Not that you’ve ever told him that, of course. You know all too well about the trauma of your boyfriend’s upbringing, just like you know how hard he’s worked to put himself in the headspace of actually pursuing a romantic relationship. It’s why you refuse to be someone who pressures him into exchanging any sort of I love you’s unless you’re sure that’s a step he’s ready to take with you.

And while you’ve certainly done your own fair share of healing and growth when it comes to being vulnerable in your relationships, there’s a part of you that’s still hesitant to say those three words out loud, terrified that everything will go wrong once you do. That he’ll hear them and change his mind, and then he’ll leave, just like your dad did with your mom. Just like everyone does eventually.

It’s an irrational fear, you know, especially with someone like Todoroki, who’s proven time and time again how much he cares for you, how deep his devotion to you truly runs. Unlike your previous partners, he’s given you no reason to doubt him, but try as you might to convince yourself otherwise, the truth of the matter is that you’re not ready to say I love you either. Like you said before, old habits die hard.

Across from you, Todoroki opens the first aid kit and unfurls a set of bandages, distracting you from your thoughts. He uses one hand to lift your foot beneath your calf and the other to wind the bandages around your ankle, each one of his movements careful and practiced.

“It’s not broken,” he tells you, finishing off the wrapping and setting your foot on his thigh, “but it’s definitely sprained. You’ll have to rest and stay off of it until you’re ready to try putting pressure on it again.”

“Well, there go our dinner plans.” You can’t help the disappointed sigh that leaves your lips, meeting his gaze to send him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to trying that new soba place downtown.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He stacks a few pillows by your foot, his voice easy and reassuring as he rests your ankle on the highest one, elevating it. “The restaurant can wait. I’m more concerned about you.”

“You’re choosing me over cold soba?” You pretend to be shocked by it, eyes wide as you place a hand over your heart, though the teasing smile on your face betrays your satisfaction. “Yikes. You must really like me, then, huh?”

“More than you know,” he answers, steady and sincere, without any sort of regard for the effect his words have on you.

He says it calmly, doubtlessly, with the kind of sureness you’ve always admired in him. It’s a habit of his, you’ve learned, to say such romantic things without any sort of hesitation, to speak of his affection for you so bluntly and unapologetically. As if he doesn’t even have to think about it, as if the feelings he has for you are just another fact of life, a truth as natural and easy to him as breathing.

“Besides,” he adds a moment later, as if he isn’t the one responsible for the current fluttering of your heart inside your chest, “there’s always takeout.”

That gets a real laugh out of you, despite the situation. Todoroki returns the gesture with a smile of his own, reaching for the ice pack next and placing it on top of your ankle.

“How’s that feel?”

“My ankle’s definitely sore, but it’s not so bad. My pride, on the other hand, is hanging by a thread. At this point, I’m not sure it’ll ever recover.” You heave a dramatic sigh, slumping against the pillows behind you in defeat. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything that could help with that, would you?”

He pauses to consider it, tilting his head in a way that only serves to make him more adorable. Then he starts to smile to himself, sliding one hand up your leg and using the other to brace himself over your body.

He shifts on the mattress and leans in close, his lips hovering just a few inches away from your own. “I have one idea…”

You wrap your arms around his neck, more than happy to indulge him, your lips meeting in a soft, sweet kiss. He deepens it just for you, tilting his head and moving a hand to cradle your jaw.

You’re both smiling when you break apart for air, all tender and warm as your eyes meet his once more. He cups your face with both hands, and you lean into his touch, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

“Feeling better now?”

“Much,” you answer, turning your face to kiss his palm. “But we’ll probably need to try that again. You know, just to make sure it’s actually working. Nothing serious, either, just two, three, maybe twenty more times—”

Todoroki laughs, a light, quiet sound you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing. He presses one kiss to your mouth and another to your forehead, and then he’s standing up, lightly pinching your cheek as he goes.

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” he says, squeezing the hand you lift to swat at him. “Try not to fall off any more stools while I’m gone.”

“Hey!”

You gasp and make an affronted sound, reaching for one of the pillows you’re not already using and launching it directly at his head. He dodges it, of course —figures his hero reflexes are working just fine, unlike yours— and smirks to himself on his way out, while you stick your tongue out at him.

Thankfully, your boyfriend’s wise enough to know better than to test your temper by coming back empty-handed. He appears in the doorway of his bedroom a few minutes later carrying a tray with two plates stacked with pancakes, an iced coffee for you, and a cup of tea for himself.

You perk up immediately, both at the sight of him and the amazing smell coming from the food, though you can’t help the guilt that settles in your chest when you remember that you were the one who wanted to bring him breakfast instead. You’re happy that the two of you are spending time together now, especially after the week you’ve both had, but it’s definitely not the way you imagined it would be.

Not that Todoroki seems to mind it, his lips curled into that fond little smile he only ever gets around you as he walks across the room to join you on the bed. He takes a seat beside you and sets the tray that’s holding everything down on the mattress between you, careful not to spill anything as he makes himself comfortable at your side.

“The bacon was beyond saving,” he announces solemnly, pausing as if he’s giving you time to mourn, “but the pancakes were surprisingly resilient.”

You can’t help but snort at his words. “They weren’t even cooking yet, Sho. It’d be a miracle if they hadn’t made it.”

“The real miracle is that they aren’t on fire. You know my culinary skills are abysmal at best.”

“Oh, come on. They can’t still be that bad. Isn’t Fuyumi teaching you a few recipes?”

“She’s certainly tried to. I’m afraid we never made it past our first lesson. Apparently the way I sauté vegetables is both frightening and destructive.” That makes you laugh, and Todoroki smiles, pleased at the sound, before handing you a fork and knife from the tray. “Thankfully, the pancakes were a lot more forgiving. I was able to get them out of there alive, and I even had time to add your favorite syrup.”

“My hero,” you coo, cutting off a piece of the pancakes from your plate and taking a bite. And though they’re certainly delicious, they do little to distract you from your earlier embarrassment, or from the disappointment you feel at being the reason why your weekend plans have gone down the drain. “I’m glad at least one of us lives up to our job description. After my epic failure in coordination this morning, I should probably suspend my own license.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Todoroki says, nudging your calf with his foot. “It was an accident. It could’ve happened to anyone, and it definitely doesn’t make you any less of a pro. You have nothing to be embarrassed about, especially not around me.”

“I know that, Sho, but it’s not—” You cut yourself off with a sigh, your gaze falling to the plate that rests in your lap. “It’s not just that.”

Being embarrassed is definitely part of it, you know, a feeling you’re sure won’t be going away anytime soon, but right now, more than anything, you feel guilty. When you woke up this morning, you were determined to help him relax and spoil him the way he’s always doing for you, but all you’ve done so far is give him more work. And though you know in your heart that Todoroki is far too kind and understanding to hold such a thing against you, that doesn’t make you feel any less awful about it.

You still aren’t looking at him, but you can hear the concern in his voice when he speaks, patient and considerate as ever. “Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Sho, it’s just— even though we work together, we barely see each other. And when we do, you’re always taking care of me, you know? This weekend was supposed to be my chance to return the favor, especially with how crazy things have been at the agency lately— but here you are, taking care of me again, all because I went and busted my ankle in the stupidest and most unheroic way ever.”

“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?” You look up at him just in time to catch the way his eyebrows furrow, his head tilting in confusion as he abandons his breakfast in favor of reaching for your hand. “I like taking care of you. I always have, especially because I know how hard it is for you to let me in the first place.”

“I know you do, baby. And I’m trying to get better at letting you, really, I am, I just—” Another sigh, tinged with both guilt and disappointment, falls from your lips, but you don’t hesitate to let your hand rest in his, winding your fingers together. “I wish I could take care of you even half as well as you’re always taking care of me.”

“Love, you remember all the mission reports I forget to file, you bring me soup whenever I’m sick, and you quite literally save my life on a daily basis,” he says, voice gentle but firm, reassuring in all the ways you didn’t even realize you needed until now. “You take care of me plenty.”

He brings your hand to his lips, and you watch, smitten and starry-eyed, as he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. And just like that, all your doubts and guilt fade away, lost somewhere between the graze of his lips on your skin and the sincerity in his mismatched eyes as they meet yours.

“So forget about returning the favor,” Todoroki continues, squeezing your hand lightly, “because you already have. And I can’t think of anything I’d like more than to keep being the one who gets to take care of you.”

And well, after hearing that, it’s hard to do anything besides kiss him, so you do. You kiss him, gentle and sweet, sweet the way he always is with you, and you hope he can feel the gratitude in it, the affection that’s burrowed its way so deeply inside your chest, it’s a wonder your heart hasn’t burst from it.

“I know,” you murmur against his lips when the two of you pull away for air, “and I—”

Love you, your heart supplies, meaning it. I really, really love you, you want to say, but can’t, the words honest and heavy on the tip of your tongue, held back by memories of past bad relationships and an irrational fear of what will happen if you let yourself be that vulnerable.

“...I want to do the same,” is what you end up telling him instead, safer and not as frightening, but still every bit as true. You place your hand against his cheek and smile at him, even as the voice inside of your heart curses yourself for backing out at the last second. “Always.”

“Always,” Todoroki agrees, returning your smile with one of his own, smooth voice echoing with promise.

The rest of your breakfast is a quiet, peaceful affair. You and Todoroki enjoy both the food and each other’s company as you exchange stories from earlier in the week, content to finally get to talk about something other than work. He tells you about his and Fuyumi’s growing suspicions that Natsuo has a new girlfriend, and you tell him about the gaggle of freakishly large geese you’re pretty sure tried to kill you the last time you flew over the city.

When your plates are empty and your stomachs are full, the two of you spend some time cuddling together in his bed. You pull up your calendar on your phone, wistfully rearranging your itinerary for the weekend now that you only have one good ankle left to work with, while your boyfriend watches from behind you, his chin hooked over your shoulder and his arm draped around your waist.

The reservations you made at the spa are the hardest for you to part with, a woeful sound leaving your lips as you swipe to confirm your cancellation. Thankfully, Todoroki is there to distract you, murmuring a suggestive promise into your ear about giving you a massage that has you sighing for a different reason entirely, his hands gliding along your body and making you feel warm all over.

When you’re comfortable and sated, he excuses himself to clear the dishes and take care of the much-needed cleanup in the kitchen. You try to convince him to stay, insisting that you should be the one cleaning up your own mess, but he refuses to be swayed, slipping away after distracting you with a perfectly timed kiss that’s as romantic as it is conniving.

It isn’t long after he’s left that you find yourself completely bored out of your mind. Scrolling through your phone can only be so entertaining before 8AM, and staring at the ceiling while you wait for Todoroki to come back to you isn’t helping much either.

You FaceTime Bakugou to distract yourself, which is your first mistake. Or maybe your second, if you count the whole spraining your ankle whilst making breakfast thing. But he’s an early riser and also responsible for covering your morning patrol shift, so you take your chances, figuring he’s the most likely of your friends to be awake.

You catch him just as he’s leaving his apartment for the day. He answers the call with a gruff “the hell d’you want?” that you imagine would’ve been more threatening if he hadn’t also picked up on the first ring, betraying his fondness.

You let him pretend to be annoyed with you anyway, thanking him for covering your shift in the most sickeningly sweet voice you can muster and laughing when all he does is roll his eyes and flip you off in response. Then you launch into the story of your own morning, eager to complain about your misfortunate to a set of fresh ears.

When you tell Bakugou what happened with your ankle, he offers no sympathy. Instead, he cackles so hard he drops his phone, and you hang up on him, vowing to yourself that the first thing you’re going to do when you see him is summon a tornado to knock him clean off his ass, childhood friendship be damned.

You FaceTime Midoriya next. He’s entering his apartment when he answers your call, having just finished up the tail end of his overnight patrol shift.

He yawns halfway through his greeting, his hair messy and his cape rumpled, but he doesn’t hang up, nor does he let you end the call once you notice how sleepy he looks. Exhausted as he is, he’s also a really great friend. Your best friend, in fact, one who’s far too kind and caring to ignore you, even if it’s for something silly.

He’s definitely amused when you tell him about your sprained ankle and failed breakfast adventure, but unlike Bakugou the gremlin, he doesn’t laugh at you. Instead, he offers you his sympathy, knowing how much you were looking forward to your weekend off. Still, he urges you to stay positive, convinced you’ll recover sooner than you think.

He lets you vent, too, listening to you with his undivided attention as you complain about finding shoes that’ll fit an ankle brace and having to rearrange your plans, and by the time you’re done, you feel a lot better.

“See, I knew I should’ve called you first. All Katsuki’s annoying ass did was laugh at me for being uncoordinated. ‘Some pro you are, Tempest.’” You do your best impression of Bakugou’s voice, complete with a matching sneer, making Midoriya laugh. “I swear, as soon as my ankle gets better, the first thing I’m going to do is kick his ass.”

“Kacchan means well,” he says. His camera is pointed at the ceiling while he changes out of his hero suit, so you can’t tell if he actually sees you rolling your eyes or not, but you imagine he doesn’t need to, having played the peacemaker between you and Bakugou for most of your life. “I’m sure he was worried about you in his own way.”

“Is that what he calls it? Because I’m pretty sure if we called him right now, he’d still be laughing at me. Jerk.” You shake your head, flashing a hopeful look at the camera as Midoriya, now clad in his pajamas, reappears on your screen. “Promise you’ll super glue his locker shut for me the next time you’re at the agency?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he chuckles, walking into his room with his phone in hand and settling into his bed. His green eyes are cloudy with sleep, but the concern they hold is clear as day he meets your gaze with his own. “You’ve been taking care of your ankle, right?”

“I’ve got an ice pack on it as we speak,” you answer, reassuring him with a playful salute. “I’m elevating it, too. Shouto made sure of it. He’s been taking really good care of me.”

“I figured he would. Speaking of which, has he asked you yet?”

“Asked me what?”

Midoriya’s hand freezes in place where he’s running it through his hair. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other through your phone screens, neither one of you moving. His eyes are wide, and he has that look on his face you’ve only seen a handful of times before, the one he only makes whenever he realizes he’s really screwed up.

None of it is making you feel better, especially not when he drops his hand and blinks like he’s trying to reboot himself.

“Uh...nothing?”

“Nothing, my ass! You can’t just say something like that and not tell me what it is,” you insist, narrowing your eyes at him as threateningly as you can manage over FaceTime. “What do you know? What is he going to ask me?”

“Nothing! R-Really, I— I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

“Izuku, I swear to god—”

He hangs up on you.

You’re left to stare at your lock screen with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. You scramble to call him back, infuriated that he would even dare to hang up after dropping a bomb like that on you with no explanation whatsoever.

Predictably, he doesn’t respond. Your calls go unanswered, which means he’s either ignoring you, or he’s dead. And if he’s not dead, then he will be soon, because next time you see him, you’re going to strangle him, Symbol of Peace status be damned.

Your fury lasts only momentarily before transforming into panic when his words really hit you.

Todoroki is going to ask you something? Holy shit, is he going to ask you to marry him? What the fuck? The two of you have never talked about marriage before. You didn’t even think that was something he’d want, and honestly, before him, it wasn’t something you’d ever considered yourself to want, either. Not after your parents’ divorce, and definitely not after your own tragic romantic history.

The two of you have only been dating four months, for crying out loud. Granted, you’ve known each other since high school, but still. He can’t actually want to marry you already.

You know Todoroki’s always been a little slow on the uptake when it comes to social cues and expectations, but this is pushing it, even for him. He literally just witnessed you wiping out in the middle of his kitchen while doing something as mundane and uncomplicated as making breakfast. What part of that horrific performance would make him think you’re marriage material?

Why would he even think you would say yes? You —avoidant, allergic to vulnerability you— ready for something as serious and life-changing as marriage? Yeah, right. And to spring it on you without any sort of discussion first? Without even hearing you say you love him? How could that possibly make any sense to him?

But what else can it be? What else is significant enough of a question that it made Midoriya abandon you like he revealed a horrible secret, like you don’t know where he lives and won’t show up to strangle him for leaving you in the dark like this?

This is too much for you, too early in the morning. Your ankle still hurts and now your head does, too, plus you’re panicking and sitting on the bed of the man who may or may not be on his way back to propose to you right now.

Part of you is tempted to run from it, to avoid any and all attempts at discussing your relationship and pretend that what Midoriya told you doesn’t exist. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time if you did. It’s your go-to strategy in relationships, after all: ignoring the problem until it eventually goes away, if it ever does.

And maybe it’s a testament to how much being with Todoroki has changed you and pushed you to grow, but you don’t actually want to do any of that this time. As stressed as thinking about this has made you, the truth is you don’t want to run from him. You love him, after all, even if your trust issues have made it practically impossible for you to tell him.

The one thing you know for certain is that you have to talk to him about it. You have no idea how you’re going to bring it up, much less how you’re going to navigate the conversation once you do, but sitting here overthinking it is only making your anxiety worse. If you and Todoroki are ever going to have a chance at getting past this, then you’re going to have to stop running and start being honest with him, even if the idea of doing so kind of makes you want to hurl.

Still, you think, if anyone’s worth making yourself vulnerable for, it’s him. It’s always been him.

It’s with that thought in mind that you push yourself to stand, rising from the bed on your one good foot. You take about three steps away from the mattress before deciding that hopping around on one leg makes you feel more ridiculous than serious, which is what you’re trying to be right now. You end up activating your quirk instead, using it to hover above the floor without having to put any pressure on your bad ankle.

It’s at that exact moment that Todoroki decides to return to you, the two of you running into each other just before you can reach the doorway. He sighs when he sees you’re out of bed, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his gaze that lets you know he isn’t at all surprised to find you like this, floating above the ground in the middle of his bedroom.

“And where are you going?” He raises an eyebrow at you, leaning against the doorframe with his hands crossed over his chest. “Off to take your revenge on my poor kitchen stool?”

For the second time today, your words fail you. The whole reason you got up in the first place was to talk to him about everything, but now that he’s here in front of you, you find that you have no idea what to say.

All you can do is give a shaky laugh, fidgeting with your hands before wrapping them around yourself protectively, as if somehow that’ll give you the strength to say what’s on your mind. “Something like that, yeah.”

“I had a feeling you’d get bored and want to start walking again instead of resting,” Todoroki says. “It’s why I went back into my hero duffle and brought you these.” He uncrosses his arms, and that’s when you notice the pair of ankle braces he has tucked away into the crook of his elbow. “I figured at least one of them might fit you.” “Oh,” you mutter, “uh, thanks.”

It’s awkward and unsure, the complete opposite of all your playful and easy banter earlier this morning. If Todoroki notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

He makes his way towards you, and your eyes widen when he reaches for your waist. He wraps his free arm around you and leads you over to the bed, helping you sit back down. You deactivate your quirk and watch as he lifts your injured ankle, carefully propping it back up onto the pillow so you’re comfortable.

It’s sweet, the way he takes care of you, how gentle he always handles you. He’s sweet, and devoted, and protective. He’s taken such good care of you this morning, as he always has, and you know, somehow, that he always will.

And you realize, right then and there, that if there’s anyone you want to be married to, it’s him. Because he’s kind, and he’s gentle, and he’s brave. And more than anything, he’s good. He’s really, truly good, good in the way you never imagined you could deserve, good in a way that makes you think about forever.

And thinking that is just— it’s insane to you, really. Borderline impossible, because you never thought it would happen. After everything you’ve seen, all the shitty breakups you’ve been through —both in your home life and your personal one— you never imagined you’d feel comfortable or safe enough in a relationship to want more, but here you are.

Here you are, tentative but open and growing. Willing to try, with Todoroki.

And what a wonderful place that is to be.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t notice that he’s taken a seat at the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. He holds an ankle brace in each hand, offering them for you to take.

“I wasn’t sure which you’d like more, so I brought both—”

“What are you planning to ask me?” you blurt without warning, unable to stop yourself.

Todoroki blinks in surprise, clearly not expecting your outburst. You weren’t expecting it either, honestly —when you decided to have this conversation with him, you really were hoping you’d be able to bring it up a lot more smoothly— but it’s too late to take it back now. And as rushed and awkward as your delivery is, you need to know before you pass out from all the stress.

It takes a few moments for him to understand what you’re talking about, but you see the realization dawning on him slowly, his eyes widening a fraction.

“How did you…” His voice trails off, and then he sighs. “Uraraka told you.”

“Izuku, actually,” you correct sheepishly, biting your lip. “Though, in his defense, he was coming off a night shift and half-asleep when I called him. Not that I should be defending him, anyway, since the bastard hung up on me without telling me what it was. Coward.”

You clear your throat, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Anyway, that’s why I’m asking you now. Whatever it is, I’d like to hear it from you, if you’re still comfortable sharing it.”

He’s silent for a few moments, like he’s considering whether or not he wants to move forward with this. But Todoroki has never been anything but honest with you, so it isn’t long before he lets go of the braces, getting to his feet and moving closer so he can face you properly.

He kneels in front of you by the edge of the bed, and the voice inside your head starts to scream, either in excitement, fear, or some strange combination of both.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this,” he says softly, reaching to take one of your hands in his own. “It was supposed to happen tonight over dinner, when it was just the two of us.”

You don’t say anything, not trusting yourself to speak. He’s definitely not doing much to make you think this is anything besides a marriage proposal.

One of his hands moves to open the drawer in his nightstand, and you nearly have a heart attack right then and there. You swear your whole body jolts, your free hand shooting out and latching onto his shirt to stop him so fast you almost fall off the bed.

He stops reaching for the drawer, his hands going up to your arms to steady you instead.

“Are you all right?” he asks, frowning in concern. “You’re not feeling light-headed, are you? Because if you are, you should lie down—”

“I’m not light-headed, Shouto, I’m in love with you.”

The confession falls from your lips, as most of your words do, before you can stop it. It’s hurried and breathless but also true and sincere, the culmination of four months of rooftop lunch dates and Facetimes between patrols, of comforting touches and lingering glances and all the wanting and affection you’d harbored in the years before that.

It seems to stun him into silence, which is quite honestly your worst nightmare, but you don’t let that deter you. Despite the doubt and irrational fear your past relationships have burdened you with, you know what kind of man Todoroki is. He was your friend long before anything romantic happened between the two of you, and you trust him completely, not just with your life, as you have for years now, but with your heart.

It’s with that thought in mind that you push yourself to continue, taking his hands into your own and intertwining your fingers together while he watches you, wide-eyed and hanging on to every word.

“I think I have been for a while. I just didn’t know how to say it, or if I even wanted to, because honestly, I was afraid to. Not because of you or anything you’ve done, but because of everything else. Because of what happened with my parents and all my shitty exes— and god, I’ve had some really, really shitty exes—”

You shake your head, stopping yourself before that train of thought goes any further, because it’s not the point. The point is that you love him, that you’ve been in love with him this whole time, and you need him to know that before anything else happens.

“What I’m trying to say is that I was scared. I thought that if I told you the truth about how I felt, then things would change, and the thought of putting myself out there only to lose you in the end just— well, it terrified me. But I’m not afraid anymore, because I know you, and I trust you, and I just— I love you, Shouto. I really, really love you. And I don’t expect you to say it back unless you’re ready, but I just—”

Todoroki doesn’t let you finish the rest of your sentence, cutting you off with a kiss that quite literally takes your breath away. He moves his lips against yours with purpose, breathing you in and cradling your face in his hands like you’re something precious, like close will never be close enough, and it’s all you can do to kiss him back, sighing into his mouth and tangling your fingers into his hair.

It’s not the first kiss the two of you have shared, nor will it be the last, but somehow it feels like the most important, the one where you finally stop being afraid and start being honest. The one where you both do.

It feels like too soon when he pulls away, but even then, he doesn’t get very far, drawing back just enough to stare into your eyes. Todoroki looks at you like you hung the moon, like you’re the one thing he’ll never get tired of seeing. He looks at you like he—

“I love you,” he says surely, doubtlessly, without the slightest waver to his voice, and now you’re the one who gets to stare, wide-eyed and hanging on to every word. “I’ve always loved you, even before I knew what that meant. And I understand everything you said about being afraid, because I was, too. All of this is still so new to me, sometimes I’m not sure what to say or what to do, but when it comes to you…”

He lets his voice trail off, moving his hands from your face down to your wrists, and then taking your hands into his own. Your heart soars when he leans down to press a kiss across your knuckles, rising and stuttering with affection where it rests inside your chest.

“You are the one thing I’ve never been unsure about,” he says, and you can tell by the look in his eyes how much he means it.

It’s the kind of confession that steadies you, one that makes all the doubt and uncertainty you felt earlier disappear, until all that’s left behind is the love you have for him, the love you know is returned.

Your eyes are watery, your bottom lip trembling with relief and affection, but still you find it in yourself to make a joke, winding your fingers through his. “Even when I do something ridiculous, like twist my ankle in the lamest way ever?”

Todoroki laughs and squeezes your hand. “Even then,” he promises. “In fact, I happen to love you the most when you’re doing something ridiculous, whether it’s falling off a stool, or jumping into the middle of a fight without a plan, or even telling off one of the biggest reporters in the country despite what it could do to your career.”

“When did I…” It takes you a few seconds to think about it, but eventually you understand what he’s talking about. You blink as the memory resurfaces, images of yourself in a pretty gown, him in a well-fitted suit, and about a million cameras flashing around you replaying in the back of your mind. “You’re talking about the charity gala for the children’s hospital, with that reporter who wouldn’t leave you alone while we were on the red carpet.”

“She kept asking me all those questions about my father and what our relationship was like. I didn’t think it’d ever end.” He strokes the backs of your hands with his thumbs, lips curling into a small, fond smile, as if the memory somehow pleases him. “Then you showed up and chewed her out for being, and I quote, ‘an invasive, insensitive parasite who was more concerned about being on the front page than she was about sick children.’ I thought your manager was going to have an aneurysm when she heard you.”

“She almost did,” you admit with a laugh, recalling the sight of your usually poised manager Misaki staring at you in horror on the other side of the velvet ropes, red-faced and furiously shaking her head in an attempt to get you to stop talking, which of course hadn’t worked. “I had to commit to a month of good behavior and PR deals just to get on her good side again.”

The incident had been all over the news, the reporter you’d offended labeling you an ill-tempered, bad-mannered brat who had no respect for the art of journalism or even her own country. And that, of course, was nothing compared to the field day the rest of the press had with your reaction, speculating on what your actual relationship with Todoroki was, despite the fact that back then, the two of you were still just friends.

Your boyfriend at the time hadn’t appreciated it at all. In fact, he’d hated every second of it, to the point he’d broken up with you as a result, but you never regretted it. You still don’t.

You tell Todoroki as much, brushing a few strands of hair away from his eyes and smiling at him. “It was worth it, you know. You were worth it. And I’ve never regretted it.”

“I know,” he says, returning your smile with one of his own. “And that’s when I realized how important you are to me. I’ve been in love with you ever since.”

“Wait, what?” The confession leaves you floored, eyes widening as you all but gape at him. “Sho, that gala was almost three years ago. You’re telling me you’ve loved me since then? And you didn’t say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure how to,” he admits. “Besides, you were already seeing someone else. And while I certainly didn’t care for him, I didn’t want to get in the way of your happiness. But I know now that I want to be the person who makes you happy. I want to be the one who’s there for you and who takes care of you. Always.”

You can’t help the joy that floods your heart at his words, your lips curving into a goofy smile. “Really?”

“Really. That’s why I want to ask you to move in with me.”

It sounds like a metaphorical record scratch. You have to take a moment to make sure you heard him correctly, and even then it still feels like you’ve just been thrown off a cliff.

“Wait, what?”

Todoroki releases your hands to open the drawer of his nightstand. This time, you don’t stop him, letting him reach inside to retrieve what he was looking for earlier.

You hear the jingle of keys before you see them, and sure enough, when he opens his hand, there’s a copy of the keys to his apartment resting in his palm, complete with the matching downstairs alarm and all. And you feel like—

Well, you feel like an idiot, mostly. An irrational, unbelievable idiot who jumps to conclusions and makes stupid assumptions but who is also really, really excited at the idea of getting to wake up with the love of your life every day.

“You were right earlier when you said we haven’t seen each other as much as we should,” Todoroki says, oblivious to both your earlier panic and how hard you’re trying not to laugh at yourself right now. “Our schedules and careers are mostly responsible for that, but having to go back and forth between apartments isn’t helping, either. That’s why I wanted to ask you to move in with me tonight. I even made a whole list of reasons to convince you.”

“Is that so?” You raise an eyebrow at him curiously, taking the keys out of his hand and twirling them around your finger. “Let’s hear them, then.”

“Our agency is closer to here than it is to your place,” he begins, rising from the floor and taking a seat next to you on his bed. “Midoriya and Bakugou are only ten minutes away. There’s a cat cafe on the corner, a plant shop across the street, and you’ve already tried all the local restaurants, so you know what you like and dislike.”

“All very practical reasons.” You move a little closer, and he lifts his arm and wraps it around your shoulders, allowing you to lean against his side. “Go on.”

“You spend more nights here than you do at your apartment. You already have a toothbrush, a place for your clothes, and a cabinet dedicated to just the foods you enjoy. And…”

“And…?”

Todoroki smiles softly at you, resting a hand against your cheek as he meets your gaze before he speaks again. “And I very much like the idea of getting to come home to you.”

“I like the idea of that, too,” you tell him, barely able to contain your own excitement as you smile and lean in for his lips.

The kiss you share now is slow and sweet, soft with the devotion you have for each other, the love you finally get to share. You feel him smile against your lips, gentle and content, and then he’s pulling back to meet your eyes, his fingers brushing the hair out of your face.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a definite yes. I’d love to move in with you, Sho.”

And when you see the way he smiles at you, warm and fond and so, so in love with you, you know you’ve made the right choice.

You snuggle into his side, making yourself comfortable with your head on his chest, while he welcomes you eagerly, tightening his arm around you and letting his cheek rest on the top of your head. When you remember your earlier distress, so different from the calm and comfort you’ve settled into now, you can’t help but laugh, pressing the keys that you were so sure were going to be a ring into your palm.

Beside you, Todoroki hums and faces you with a questioning look. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just— for a second there, when Izuku told me you wanted to ask me something, I panicked. I thought you were going to ask me to marry you.”

A beat of silence follows. You expect him to laugh with you, but instead he grows quiet. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing, but then he reaches for your hand and slides his fingers through yours, shifting so he can face you properly, mismatched eyes curious and searching.

“Is that something you’d want?” he asks, more quietly than he needs to, like he’s afraid he might scare you off. “With me?”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” you answer, voice as quiet as his. “In fact, I’ve actually tried really hard not to think about it. I didn’t think it was an option for me before.”

“Same here,” he says, and for some reason, hearing him be so honest and knowing that he thought the same fills you with relief, the steadiness of his voice comforting you the way it always has. “But if it’s with you…”

“If it’s with you…” You lift your head to look at him and press your palm flat against his chest, right above his heart. “I think we could make it work.”

He kisses you, then, slow and soft just like before, with his heart beating against your palm, strong and steady, unwavering when it comes to you, the way it’s always been. There’s a promise in it, too, one you hope he feels is reflected in the way you kiss him back, one that feels like forever.

You’re both smiling at each other when you pull away. Todoroki looks at you like he’s always looked at you, like you’re all he wants to see. Like you’re home, and for the first time in your life, you know you are.

And he doesn’t need to say anything else, doesn’t need to prove himself any more than he already has, but he says it anyway.

“Yeah. I think we could, too.”

And the best part is, he means it.

Written by: Dawn Taglist link

[echantedtoon]

A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch12 The Heart's Not Just A Muscle P2

(Hearts conquered so far: Mitsuri, Kanae, Sanemi, Gyomei,Giyuu, and now Shinobu is getting her time to shine.

Warnings for Shinobu/Y/n getting soda thrown at them.)

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@the-unknown-fandom

@lavenderdropp @mimisweetz. @purplesoulsapphire

@kksmush @denkpanda18 @whomisi @lessthanimperfect @silver-rin

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

The next morning was better. He felt less tired and more energized than last night and was able to get some house chores done. At the moment he was enjoying the peace and quiet of the calm morning. Sipping on some coffee she gave him and just all around enjoying not having to do anything else right now.

That was until the doorbell rang.

DING DONG!!

The sound of it had both look up from the kitchen table and towards the door that was clearly visible from the kitchen.After a second he sighed and slowly made himself stand up. He eventually got up to get it as she was busy compiling the footage of their work so far and labeling the dates with the right videos. She was more tech savvy than him so she'd be better at doing it anyways. So she went back to transferring most of the video files to a series of hard drives with dates and time stamps edited into the video. She'd hand over the hard drives to the professor when they turned in their project at the end of November. For now she'd get what files they already had organized along with their notes.

Giyuu's footsteps echoed in the apartment before he opened the door. From where the kitchen was and where she was sat, she could clearly see who stood in the doorway if she looked up from the screen 

"Hi, Giyuu!" The familiar voice made her pause before looking up from the screen and raising a brow at the woman bundled up smiling in the doorway. "Chilly today isn't it?"

Y/n? What was she doing here this early?..And why was she holding a giant paper bag?

He stared at her with his back to his girlfriend. "Yes." Eventually he answered slowly. "I thought we weren't going to meet until later."

"We weren't but I have something for you." She blinked as a giant paper bag was heaved up and into his arms. The paper crinkling with the shift of ownership.

"..What is this?"

"Some new food you can try. You mentioned getting a bit tired with your usual food so I made you some new dishes to try out for a few days." Her hand gestured to the large bag "You got some saba no shioyaki, tonkatsu, a container of onigiri in there somewhere, katsudon, oyakodon, a salad, and some homemade taiyaki. Oh. I also made you some salmon Daikin and there's one container of ginger tsukudani for Shinobu. They might not be very good because it's my first time making them."

"Why?"

"Your sister mentioned that it's your favorite food, and Kanae told me when I asked about-"

"No. Just..." His face slowly slipped down to the bag again. Just staring at it. "Why?"

"Oh... It's because sometimes we all just need someone to reach out and help." Purple eyes slowly widened from behind the screen. "I've noticed that you've been stressed lately and it's fine that you don't want to talk to me about it, but if you'd ever like to I'd be happy to listen to you."

And then there was a tense silence between the two of them before the wind blew making her shiver again.

"You go ahead and take today off. I'll just do the project myself today and email Shinobu the video when I'm done walking around. Relax and get better soon. Ok? If you need to call me just ask Mei or Shinobu for my number. They both have it. And don't worry about my tupperware. You can give it back to me when you're all finished. No rush."

He continued to stare but flinched as a warm hand patted one of his still holding onto the bag before she turned and began walking away from the door until she couldn't see Y/n anymore. Giyuu stood there for a while before slowly turning around back to Shinobu's still wide eyes, allowing her to see his red face. Slowly the door was closed using a leg with a click and his footfalls sounded out as he walked himself back into the kitchen.  Paper crinkled as the bag was slowly placed the bag on the table between the two.

And then they stared in silence some more. Before they exchanged looks with each other. And then slowly Giyuu reached out slowly and opened up the large bag, pulling the edge back enough to peek inside. Dark Blue eyes blinked before a hand reached inside and a second later a medium sized Tupperware container was pulled out.

Giyuu weighed it in his hands with a hum despite the pink to his face. "Still warm."

"Open it."

He did so and immediately the smell of pork and cabbage filled the air. "Tonkatsu." He looked at her.

"Well don't just sit there. You haven't had anything to eat all morning." She nodded to him. "Eat it."

Giyuu took his time turning to go dig out chopsticks from a kitchen drawer before sitting himself back down at the kitchen table in front of the warm meal. Dark Blue eyes just staring at it for a long moment before he reached inside and pulled out a small piece of the breaded pork cutlets. It smelled so good even to her just sitting there. He slowly placed it into his mouth.

Blue eyes WIDENED. Going as wide as plates as he slowly chewed on the food. Before his chewing increased as he immediately dipped back down into the container. A moment later he so sweetly held up a piece to her wanting to try it obviously. She did accepting his offer and immediately the sweet taste of pork and spices filled her mouth with the punch of a firecracker. 

Shinobu hummed. "That is actually very good."

 She watched as he just continued to eat his fill. A twinge of pleasant color rising to his cheeks. Contentment as he sighed through his nose and let a satisfied him leave him as she silently watched. How long has it been since she's seen him so happy about food? Usually neither one of them has time to really cook so it was usually leftovers, take out, or instant meals like frozen TV dinners or instant ramen. He offered something again to her but she held up a hand to stop him.

"Oh no. Those she made for you. Eat something and feel better."

"But she did make you something." He again shoved a arm into the bag and pulled out a small Tupperware container before pushing it out towards her.

She did huh? Taking it and opening it let the scents of ginger and soy sauce fill the air. Ginger tsukutani. That was her favorite food. Hm. It smelt good and it was still warm too. The pleasantly kind of warm, not too hot but not cold at all. ..It must've taken her all night to make them all of this, and she insisted on not worrying them about their project. Her hum echoed in the kitchen as Giyuu continued to eat in content. His happy stomach welcoming the rare addition of homemade goods. 

"Interesting. This might require a little more consideration."

She decided to look into it a bit more starting the following few hours. As promised, Y/n had sent her an email and with it was attached a video file of her doing a series of jumping jacks, jogging in place, and then ending in her doing yoga the rest of the hour. Gyomei's voice was heard in the background asking what-

"Honey, what take out do you want to order tonight? I can make something instead so you don't have to worry about cooking tonight."

His caring nature had her smiling. Gyomei was always so considerate of everyone around him, and since starting a relationship with Y/n he's only gotten much more happier. She was genuinely happy for him. Y/n was genuinely a very happy kind woman and Gyomei couldn't ask for a better girlfriend.  However what she wasn't expecting was for some of her own partners and even her own sister to also fall for her. 

She supposed Mitsuri was predicable and Kanae was understandable if surprising. But Sanemi? Giyuu?

Perhaps it was the curiosity that prompted her to email her back-

'Shinobu:

                  Hey. Thanks for the file! Sorry we couldn't join you today. Giyuu won't be able to join us for most of this week, so are you alright with working with me on it this week?'

It took her only a few minutes to respond back.

'Y/n:

           Hi, Shinobu! Yeah that's fine. Did you guys like the food? I have to be quick because Mei n I are watching a movie Mitsuri leant us. Yeah that works. Do you want to meet tomorrow after classes and work?'

'Shinobu:

                  I can't. I'm working late. But I'm free Tuesday afternoon. You free then?'

'Y/n: 

              Sure! I can meet you after work by the park. See u then!'

Well that certainly sounded like a good time. Alright then. Tuesday. That was when she was going to be getting a few answers to her curiosity.

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

"Shinobu! Hi!"

She happily waved over the purple eyes woman with a big smile and a thick turtleneck sweater draped over her top. It was a bit nippy today just going into November, however she was surprised when she saw a bouncing pink haired woman next to her not so subtly giving Y/n a loving expression. 

"Hello," she greeted them both and with a curious tilt looked at Mitsuri. "I'm surprised to see you here. I don't think you're doing the project with us."

She shook her head braids swaying. "Nope! Obi's going meditating with Mei and my dance classes were cancelled after the teacher sprained her ankle." She gushed looking at them both. "So I had nothing to do but Y/n invited me to come along with you guys!!"

"I hope that's ok." Y/n tilted her head. "I'd really like to get to know Mei's family better, and I genuinely like hanging out with you guys. I figured Mitsuri could film while you take notes again so we're not trying to juggle everything ourselves."

Ah right. Sunday and Monday Y/n had to both do the project herself because Giyuu and herself were busy, and she had to finish compiling everything into thumb drives IN order with labels and dates along with her notes. Honestly she was surprised when she got a second email Monday night with another email but you were doing the project with them so it made sense.

"No problem at all. I think the extra hand will be very useful!"

"Oh that reminds me. I made you both copies of class notes from today and yesterday!" She gestured to the backpack slung over her shoulders. "Figured you'd be needing them too."

"I appreciate that. So what exactly are we doing today?"

"I figured we'd just walk around the park again. It's easy enough and we could go for some food afterwards. My treat!" She happily smiled at Mitsuri who lit up. "MacDougal's sounds like a good place to get burgers. Five burgers for ten dollars is a good deal and I can get you ten for only twenty dollars!"

"Oh you don't have to do that for me!"

"I want to! You're always letting me use your employee discount at the cafe so it's only fair! You're a kind person!" Mitsuri squealed out in delight clutching her cheeks. "And you deserve it!" She squealed out more excitedly bouncing on her heels. A sight that even made Shinobu smile wider. "Of course I'd get something for you too Shinobu."

She held up a hand to her. "Oh no. I couldn't ask you to buy me anything."

"Not even one of their famous cappuccinos?"

"...Ok. A coffee then." 

That only pulled out a few giggles from the both of them before they actually got to work. Shinobu taking notes as Mitsuri bounced beside her as she wrote happily filming as Y/n walked. The crisp cold air chilling them the closer to December. 

"Hey, Shinobu. How's Kanao doing?" The sudden name drop of her baby sister was something that had gotten said woman to snap up in question. 

After a moment she looked back down. "She's doing fine."

"I hope she likes her dress! I bet she'll look beautiful in it!"

Ah yes. Her dress. The one for almost three months Kanao had been eyeing every time she passed it on her way to home and school. It was rather pretty but expensive so that's why it took their parents so long to save up for it. Only problem was that the old crab in charge of running the store had refused to sell it to them once she found out that a teenager was planning on using it for a dance. Even denied Kanae when she offered to buy it instead. She thinks that she hated children but whatever the circumstances were..

Had Y/n not gone in to get her the dress, Kanao would have come back rather more disappointed. Instead she got to experience putting on the dress at home and smiling as their mother INSISTED on taking pictures for her scrapbook. Imagine her surprise when Kanae relayed the tale to her much later...Which begged the question-

"If you'd like, I'll reimburse you for the dress. It's not a problem."

"Oh no. It's perfectly alright." She smiled wider. "It wasn't fair she couldn't get it in the first place. I'm just glad she's happy now."

"You didn't have to help her."

"I know. I didn't do it because I had to, but because I wanted to. I'm just sorry Kanae had to deal with Jake after all that."

"How noble of you!," Mitsuri gushed nearly fumbling with the phone.

Shinobu only hummed again as she continued her work. Although she didn't miss the way f/c orbs seemed to linger on her a little bit longer than normal. She brushed it off as her waiting to continue the conversation with her.

"Did you like the food I made you?"

"Yes. The ginger tzukutani was delicious," she said bring honest because..well it WAS delicious. "Thank you. How did you ever find out?"

"Sanemi was talking to me about my ohagi recipe and Kanae mentioned some of your favorite foods. I hope you don't mind."

Ah. Kanae. Of course she'd mention it. 

"Not at all. Like I said it's delicious."

"What about the other things?"

"Giyuu let me have a piece of his tonkatsu. I think you might've used a bit too much breading but otherwise it was good."

"His? I made those for both of you because you were hungry."

Shinobu paused immediately. Feet stopping in motion and purple eyes snapping up. Mitsuri and Y/n had also stopped in their tracks to look at her. Silence resumed other than the distant ambience of others in the park around them. For a long moment no one spoke before Shinobu blinked.

"... Hungry?"

"I don't mean you're starving," Y/n explained calmly, "But Giyuu mentioned that  he can get worn out from the repeated pattern in foods he eats, but I've been noticing that the same happens to you. All you ever seen to consume is caffeine and I've noticed that you seem to skip meals... That's not exactly very good for you."

Purple eyes widened at her. Stunned by the observation but stunned still as she pointed at her. 

"Even now I can tell you're hungry. You haven't eaten anything yet today or barely anything at all. I know the look from my job. You gotta be alert and on look out for things with kids all the time. So after this, I'm getting you something to eat. And make sure you eat some of what I gave you guys later. You shouldn't be skipping meals."

'You shouldn't be skipping meals.'

Now where had she heard that before? Oh right. From nearly every one of her partners and sister. Mostly from Hinatsuru, Kanae, and Rengoku however. No one could've really known that she was doing that unless they were a close family or friend or very observant. The latter stunning her by surprise for a moment.

"...If that's what you want."

"Good! Because as long as we're doing the project together, I'm not going to let you two eat anything bland! I already got some recipes for o-taro sashimi and homemade mochi I want you both to try too!" Y/n smiled before reaching out to pat Shinobu's shoulder. 

"Hhhhhaaahh!! Do you know how to make okonomiyaki?!"

Y/n giggled at Mitsuri's nearly drooling expression. "I made it for Mei yesterday for lunch. If you'd like, I can make you some tonight and you can pick it up tomorrow at the daycare."

"KYAA!! YOU'RE SO KIND Y/N-CHAN!!  I COULD HUG YOU RIGHT NOW-!!"

"Let's finish up the project for today first. We're a few minutes behind now so we'll have to walk a little bit longer to make up for lost time."

Things thankfully got back on track and even if they were a little behind. She'd have to edit the footage later before adding it to the database.  Although purple eyes kept stealing glances at f/c eyes as she politely listened to Mitsuri babble on about her dance classes and favorite positions of ballet. But soon the hour was done, project for the day was finished, and appetites were heavy. It was near the end of the day now and it was only a little bit until the sun went down. So it would be a good time to get dinner. 

The local MacDougal's burger place was only a twelve minute walk away from the park and the smell of grilled burgers was enough to entice all three of them towards the fast food joint. The little bell above the door rang and as the three of them walked into the establishment. No one was in there except for a middle aged woman frowning and sitting by herself eating what looked like chicken tenders, and the cashier who was boredly spraying the front counter before wiping it down with a cloth. 

Although he looked up when he heard chiming from the bell. Dark blue eyes widened at the three familiar figures walking inside.

"HI, GIYUU!!," Mitsuri greeted loudly waving a full arm as the two women filed in behind her. "OH MY GOSH YOU'RE STILL HERE?!"

Said black haired man wore an orange and yellow uniform shirt with the letters MD stitched into a breast pocket and a visor was on his head. He watched as his partner, his girlfriend, and Y/n walked in. Three beautiful women smiling and waving at him making his cheeks go a light pink before making eye contact with Shinobu and slowly smiling a little. 

"Hi, Giyuu." Y/n greeted him next stopping in front of the register. "You look like about ready to close. Is this a bad time?"

He cleared his throat to not come off as flustered before speaking. "Not really. My shift ends in another hour and a half. I'm cleaning up before the night shift comes by. It's been a slow day so I'm almost done. I already swept and mopped everywhere."

"Are you alone?"

"No. The cook is cleaning up one of the grills. Did you three want to order?"

"Yes please! You still taking orders right?" He nodded before putting down said objects and standing in front of the register looking at her expectantly. "Can I get a two large strawberry milkshakes with two of those five burgers for ten dollars deals? With two double bacon burgers cola, and a cappuccino?"

"Would you like fries with all of those burgers?"

"Yes!"

"Your total is fifty two ninety seven," he stated after pressing a few buttons on the register as Y/n was already holding up her card. "I'll get the cook to work on it right away."

"Thanks, Giyuu! Did you like the food I left you?'

Again a deeper pink flushed over him as he nodded. "Yes. I had the taiyaki for my lunch today...T-Thank you."

"No problem. Let me know when you're done and I'll make you and Shinobu more!"

Giyuu again stared at her pink as Mitsuri giggled and Shinobu rose a brow but soon the food was paid for and being a fast food joint, the food was fastly brought out to them. Mitsuri wasted no time laying way through the two milkshakes and ten pairs of burgers and fries brought out just for her! Honestly Shinobu thought she'd jump across the table just to kiss Y/n for getting her such a big meal. Herself? Well Y/n had given her a look until she began eating the admittedly delicious food making her smile and only then did she start eating herself. About halfway through her burger she slid Mitsuri her own fries as she had already finished with her large order. Happily accepting them before also wolfing them down. 

"I'll go throw away the trash."

And so it was offered by Y/n as they all got up to leave. Well they were leaving, Shinobu was going to wait for Giyuu's shift to end before walking back to their shared apartment. But that was when IT struck. 

"Excuse me. There was something wrong with my food!" 

A rude sounding lady's voice cut through the air as they turned. Y/n being the closest to the voice dumping the wrappers into a trashcan sat between their table and the register. Standing at the register was a the woman from before. Standing before the counter arms crossed holding a cup of whatever she had been drinking, feet tapping, and scowl on her face. Glaring at Giyuu who blinked.

"...Oh. What's wrong?"

"I ordered a ten piece chicken tender meal!," she practically screeched into Giyuu's ever somber face. "There was only nine pieces! And they weren't cooked all the way!"

"Oh. Well if you return the meal I can see what's wrong and maybe we can get you a new one?," he offered.

"Just give me a refund on it!", she demanded.

"I can't do that unless I have proof of the food being incomplete and you show me a receipt."

"THAT'S OUTRAGEOUS!!" She wailed throwing her arms to her side fists balled up. "I WAS FORCED TO EAT A MEDIOCRE MEAL NOT EVEN FINISHED AND YOU WON'T EVEN FUCKING GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK?!"

"Wait.." His brow rose. "So the meal was bad..but you still ate it? And you have no receipt but you still want a refund?...I can't do that."

"WHAT?!"

"I don't make the rules, I just work here."

"I WANT THE MANAGER!!"

A tired sigh escaped Giyuu's mouth. "He's not here today. If you want, I can give you corporates phone number and you can file a complaint with them."

A Vien popped in her forehead as she growled. "HOW DARE YOU?! I SPEND HUNDREDS OF MY OWN MONEY HERE YOU'RE LUCKY TO BE GETTING MY BUSINESS!!"

Giyuu tired deadpanned face didn't change as she fired insults and curses at him. However he did notice when a smaller hand tapped her on the shoulder. The Karen snapped around so fast they were all expecting her neck to make a cracking sound as she whirled around to Shinobu who still smiled at her.

"I think it's really too unladylike to be having a child like tantrum.~"

"Who the hell are you?! Mind your own dam business!"

"I'm sorry but I'm afraid I can't do that. You see you are now they say acting like a bitch right now."

"HOW DARE YOU?! DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!"

"Yes, yes. How dare you? Who's your manager? Do you know who I am? I'm calling the police. The usual Karen threats and questions." The woman trembled more with rage. "My you're entitled and extremely rude. I may not know who you are but I can make an educated guess.~" She smiled pointing at her. "You're an old bitch who thinks the world revolves around her so much that your gravitational pull sucks up everyone's time and energy.~" Her friendly tone and face still did waver other than closing her eyes. "You know this can be classified as harassment which as you know is against the law." F/c orbs widened as the arm holding the Karen's cup was pulled back. "So why don't you leave before someone actually calls the police on yo-"

S P L A S H!!

Dark liquid and ice went flying through the air. Sticky and syrupy no doubt some kind of too sweet soda from the fast food place. It all went flying through the air and splattered against the warmth of both wool fabric and soft skin with a splash sound. Mitsuri gasped loudly covering her mouth. Giyuu went wide eyed in surprise. The cook popped their head from the back hearing the noises. And Shinobu blinked at what happened.

Y/n spat out the too sweetened taste of cold root beer with a disgusted face. "PFFT!! UGH!!" With a sleeve she reached up in an attempt to get the sticky liquid off her face. "Man that's cold!"

Giyuu turned to the other worker. "Call the police! My girlfriends were assaulted!"

That's when the woman attempted to run, but was quickly snatched up by Mitsuri wrapping her arms around her middle squeezing hard enough to pin her arms to her sides before with a shrill shriek leaned back to lift the woman helplessly kicking her feet out in the air.

"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE YOU BRUTE!!," she shouted back with a frown. "YOU'RE GOING TO PAY FOR HURTING Y/N-CHAN!!"

"GUYS!! I'm not hurt! It's just some soda."

"That she assaulted you with!," Giyuu shouted over the incoherent screaming of the woman. Already reaching for the phone. "If it had been hot coffee you could've gotten incredibly hurt! I'm not going to sit back and let another selfish person get away with hurting you."

"YEAH! ME NEITHER! CITIZENS ARREST!!"

"It's really not that big of a deal. I've gotten stuff spilt on me me before. Tell them, Shinobu.....Shinobu?"

Y/n turned to the silently stunned woman in question however Shinobu just stared at her processing what exactly had been done.

Y/n...had gotten between her and the crazy Karen.

Her nice turtleneck was now all set down the front with cold root beer that had been meant for her. A sleeve was still wiping at her face which was also splashed by the unexpected attack from the crazy woman. That...That was going to be her. That was supposed to be her. But she had stepped out between the two to take the brunt of the attack. What if that HAD been hot coffee?! She would've been severely burnt or worse!! What if had been something else just as worrisome?! Or what if it had been a punch?! Y/n continued to stare at the stunned face of Shinobu wiping at her face and neck.

"Shinobu? Hey, Shinobu!" She waved a hand in front of her face making her jolt. "Are you ok?! You're not hurt are you?" She shook her head no and Y/n sighed. "That's a relief. Thank goodness no one was seriously hurt."

"I called the police. They're on their way. Press charges when they get here."

Her head turned to Giyuu. "You seriously called them?"

It was all really a blur of voices and screams. Long story short the police did come back and made Mitsuri drop the Karen who immediately demanded that they arrest every single person in the place and threatened to sue them then sue the MacDougal's company and then she the police for not immediately 'doing their job' and had yadda yadda. Typical Karen shrieking. They explained their side and luckily there was security cameras for them to look at. Another long story short, she was taken away cussing and shrieking in handcuffs and Giyuu had to go get a mop to clean up the soda spilt all over the floor.

"Are you ok, Y/n?," Mitsuri asked concerned as Shinobu wiped her face down with some wet napkins.

"For the hundredth time yes. It's just soda. I'll just change and take a shower when I get home. Nothing some water and soap can't fix."

They still fussed over her face. "You shouldn't have done that. I could've handled it myself. And what if it had been something like hot coffee?"

"I couldn't just stand by and not do anything. You're like a friend to me." Shinobu blinked with a hum as she smiled. "And as I said I do want to get to know you guys better. So don't worry about it. Everyone's alright and that's all that matters. I'm just happy YOU'RE ok, Shinobu."

Shinobu once again blinked before turning to Mitsuri who again giggled much to Y/N's confusion. "What did I tell you guys?~"

"Tell them..what?"

"Oh nevermind. Let's get you home so you can properly clean up."

[perfumejamal]

SECRET SANTA (h.r) 18+

pairing: dom!renjun x f!reader

summary: when you are renjun’s secret santa and you choose to get him a silly present, but the night ends with him splitting you open on his couch.

genre: @jenoslutie ‘s christmas collab, smut, fluff

warnings: best friend!renjun, pocket pussy mentioned, unprotected (seems like all my fics.. but pls use protection!), cute renjun, softdom!rejun, creampie??

word count: 1.6k

a/n: YOOO yall don’t know how many time i had to scrap the damn fic. i was so close to ending this account that’s how bad it was fr.. also i am so sorry for how late this is i was trying my best to finish it with how many times i deleted it and tryna keep up all my course work ,, hope yall can enjoy and look past how late it is ………also listen to this song bc it was on repeat while i was writing this!!

renjun was one of the hardest people to read, he was very quiet and kept to himself. unlike the rest of the guys, he didn’t hit on you or make sexual jokes around you. you were convinced he didn’t make any jokes of that sort at all.

you smile as you mentally read his name off the slip you just drew from a cup. you and your friends decided to do secret santa, following the usual tradition you had all followed.

you spotted renjun sitting at the kitchen counter, snacking on some chocolate covered pretzels. he would talk from time to time, but most conversations was held by you and the others. you sit on the counter facing him, staring down at him. “junnie?”

he hummed softly as a response, “are you not having fun?” you say with a sad tone to your voice.

he quickly straightens his posture before responding, “i-im having a lot of fun!” he says with a slight smile.

you smile back at him taking his hand and leading him to the living room, where everyone else was singing and dancing.

you snickered to yourself as you wrapped up renjun’s gift. unsure of what to get him you thought you’d get him something silly and something he needed. your friend group was very open about hookups and lack there of. renjun, however didn’t really talk about any of that. so what better gift to get him than something he could use to pleasure himself?

you were getting ready to drop off his gift. he didn’t have a lecture today and he wasn’t working so it was the perfect time to swing by his apartment. you also didn’t want any of your friends to see the gift, they tend to make a big deal out of things.

you rung the doorbell to his apartment, quickly making your way in when he let you in.

“junnie!” you exclaim hugging him immediately. “i’m your secret santa,” you say with a bright smile to your face handing him the wrapped present.

he smiled and took the gift placing it under his small christmas tree. “take a seat, let me get you some hot chocolate,” he said heading to the kitchen.

you take off your jacket and place it on the hanger by his door. snuggling into his cozy couch, and covering yourself with the blanket you had crocheted for him. “junnie i’m gonna search for a movie to watch!” you yell from the couch, earning a small ‘mhm’ from him.

scrolling through the new releases you chose a random rom-com, and renjun came back just in time with your mug of hot chocolate and some cake. he sat down next to where you laid, getting under the blanket and letting your head rest on his lap.

the movie started with the main characters hating each other, and you were intrigued this trope being your favorite. your focus kept shifting as renjun kept playing with your hair, his slender fingers massaging your scalp.

you relaxed into his touch, your mind hazy at the softness of his fingers. “fuckk,” you moaned, accidentally. you cover your mouth quickly realizing what just happened. he chuckled, slowly pulling his hands out of your hair.

your face is reddening but you try to hide it by looking at the screen, focusing once more on the movie. which was probably not a good idea. you’re not even sure how long he was massaging your scalp, but by the time you looked back there was a sex scene.

you clear your throat awkwardly as you watch it, rubbing your legs together and shifting around. “are you okay, y/n?” you quickly look up at him from his lap and nod your head yes rapidly.

“yes!” you exclaim. “sorry if i was moving so much,” you say moving to sit next to him. focusing on the screen once more.

you let out a sigh of relief as the movie came to an end. “you know,” you start, moving towards his tree. “you can open your present,”

he nodded walking towards his tree, grabbing the cutely wrapped present. “you’re right,” he said as he neatly ripped it apart. his eyebrows furrowing in question looking at the box under the pink wrapping paper. you sit back on the couch sipping on some water as his mouth forms an ‘o’. “you got me a fucking pocket pussy?”

you burst out into laughter, spitting out the water in your mouth. he walked towards the couch while holding the present in his hand. “y/n,” he started, lifting up your chin up to face him. your eyes wondering everywhere but to his own. “why’d you get me this?”

his tone was deep, with a serious undertone and it made you nervous. you had never seen him like this, you didn’t even think his voice could go that deep, dropping a few octaves from his normal voice. “i-im sorry.. i just wanted to give you something to help yourself!”

he looked down at you angrily, “what? you thought that just because i didn’t fuck you that i didn’t fuck anyone?” he leaned down closing the gap between you and him, “you’re right, though.”

you could feel his breath on yourself, making you even more nervous. “do you know why that is, y/n?” you nodded your head no as a response, unable to get any words out. “well, it’s because i want to fuck you, i always have.”

you gasped at the words, throat closing up at his words. “fuck it,” he said before closing the gap between you two, pushing his lips on yours. his hand sneaking around your body, one around your neck to deepen the kiss the other gripping your hips.

you moan into his mouth, he pulls away slowly. “i need you right now, y/n,” he says. “then fuck me, junnie!” you say in excitement awaiting his next move.

his eyes were full of lust and warmth, he kept steady eye contact with you as his he started getting on his knees between your thighs. he pressed the hot warmth of his mouth onto your clothed pussy. chuckling against you as your back arched from the friction. “baby, relax your body,”

you whine as his fingers grace your cunt, he plays with the waistband of your panties. “please! please do something renjun,” you pleaded him making him laugh at you before pulling your panties down and lapping at your pussy.

his hand grip at your thighs, and his tongue works your folds. he sucks on your clit like a madman, hungry and thirsty for you. “you’re so fucking wet, y/n,” he says while adding two fingers into your hole.

you gasp, throwing your head back, a scream ripping through your throat. “fuck, fuck!” you moan out, your hands making their way to his soft hair, grabbing a handful to guide him more into your pussy.

renjun looks up at you, seeing your pleased face, smiling to himself. “y/n, baby are you close?” he asks you in a sweet tone.

“mhm! fuck, yes i’m close junnie!” you moan out as a response. and just like that your body felt empty, your orgasm is quickly interrupted. a sadistic chuckle escaping him as he sees the sadness on your face. “why’d you stop?” you pout.

he smiles, cupping your face with his soft hands, caressing your hair before saying, “i want to feel you,” he says simply, kissing your swollen lips, “i wanna feel you come against my dick,”

you bite your lips, using your hands to pull his sweats down. letting his dick spring out against his abdomen. “can i ride you?” you ask, whispering into his ear as if you’d be ridiculed if you said it any louder.

“fuck, y/n, you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

you smile, climbing onto his hardened dick, using his arms as support. you both let out a pleased sigh as you sank down into his dick, slowly letting yourself adjust to his size.

you started to slowly bounce, but renjun had different plans. his hands rest on both sides of you, forcing himself into you fast, making your eyes roll back. he giggled bringing his head to rest on the nape of your shoulder as you rode him slowly.

the room was filled with the sound of your bodies slapping against each other, and your loud moans along with his quiet moans. you ran your nails over his toned back, biting his shoulder softly.

he uses his hands to lift you from bouncing, causing you to whine. “shh, baby,” he said pushing your head onto the soft couch in his dimly lit living room. you can feel yourself feeling hotter against his hard dick.

renjun aligned himself, hand resting on your lower abdomen, slowly entering you feeling himself against your lower stomach. “you alright y/n?” he asked earning a response from you almost immediately.

“yes, yes fuckkkk!” you scream into the cushion you were holding for support. “you’re fucking me so good, junnie.”

he smiled to himself, his thrusts becoming sloppier. he could feel himself getting closer and closer to coming undone. his hand worked its way to your clit rubbing circles, making your eyes roll back harder than before.

your legs were threatening to give up on you, and renjun gripped your hips to hold you up. “where do you want my cum?”

you moaned at the question, “in me please!”

he complied with your request, cumming in you. your body gave up on you, letting you fall down onto the couch. renjun let out a low chuckle. “you fucked me crazy, junnie!”

he smiled at you, pressing a kiss onto your lips, your eyes half closed. “yeah, i guess i did,” he laughed at your fucked out state. “do you still think i need that pocket pussy?”

you giggled, “definitely not, you probably think i’m the worse secret santa…”

he smiled, “this was the best gift i could ask for,” he said placing a soft kiss on your lips.

[ominousvibez]

ectoberweek 2024, day 1 | graveyard shift

AO3

Victor is a janitor working a late-night shift at Axiom Labs. One night, he encounters Phantom.

A/N: Decided to try an outsider POV for this. Idk, the thought of a janitor working a late night shift kinda just stuck with me. Okay hope you like it xoxo vibez

Victor Hathorne is usually pretty content with his job.

It’s not exactly a fun job, or a particularly exciting job; but it pays the bills, and it pays pretty well. The hours are shit— 10 at night to 6 in the morning—but Axiom Labs makes up for it in generous benefits, including dental!

Victor hadn’t been to the dentist in seven years before snagging this position at Axiom Labs, and it’s a miracle he only had three cavities since.

The work is simple, janitorial duties. With most of the Axiom Lab staff leaving before Victor even arrives for his shift, it leaves most of the building to himself to clean. Four stories, technically, but he doesn’t have access to most of it. There are some higher-ups in the janitorial team that deal with the restricted areas. And they’re a team, of janitors—not something Victor ever imagined being a thing before starting at Axiom—so he’s not technically the only one working late hours, but he’s still usually alone.

Which is fine with him. He brings headphones and an old, busted MP3 player with him to work at night and he listens to music. Occasionally he’s able to find an audiobook to (not-so-legally) download to the MP3, so he isn’t just blaring loud rock/techno music for his entire eight hour shift, and he’s been actually reading books, surprisingly.

It’s a simple, easy job. Something that has helped him get a slightly less shitty apartment and a marginally better life. Not the best job, but it does what it needs to be done.

One night changes that for Victor.

The Head Custodian (what stupidly official name for just their manager) is in their break room already when Victor arrives one night. He’s not late. It’s about nine-forty, the usual time he clocks in, but the appearance of Ravenna Jones is only slightly alarming. Slightly intimidating. He doesn’t interact with her often. She’s usually in her office and doesn’t work the graveyard shift, only staying to eleven or midnight at most.  

She’s sat at the table in the breakroom, looking over a clipboard. There’s a lot of numbers and things listed on the papers, but it isn’t something Victor can easily read. Not just with his dyslexia, mind you, but it’s also upside-down to him. Not to mention—not really any of his business.

“Mr. Hathorne?”

His head snaps up as he sets his bag in the locker. He stiffens. “…Yes?”

A million thoughts go through his mind. Is she going to fire me? Am I going to be fired? Did I forget to clean something last night? Sure, he occasionally came in a little buzzed, not like any of the other janitors are much better than Victor. He’s usually the only sober one of the normal staff.

“Alexa James is not going to be in today.” Ravenna starts. “Well, for a while, actually.”

“Is-- is she alright?”

“Yes, she is fine. Maternity leave.”

Oh. Oh! He remembers, faintly, Alexa saying something in passing to him the other night. They’d been successful with IVF treatments a while ago, and her wife was due soon. The baby must have come. “Oh, that’s… Great. Good for them, I mean.”

Ravenna looks up at him from her clipboard, nodding quietly. “Yes. She will be gone for a while, and we will need someone to take over her position temporarily. You’re the only other staff member in our department who can fill in for her while she’s gone.”

“M-Me?” He hadn’t even been there for a whole year yet. The entire situation is very surprising. “I mean, Bill’s been here for years, can’t he…?”

Ravenna shakes her head, pushing her chair back to stand up. As Head Custodian, Ravenna never has to dress in clothes that are meant to get dirty (like Victor), so her pencil skirt and blouse are clean, tidy, and professional, and she brushes off the dust on her skirt. “Bill has a criminal record. I know that Jefferson comes in too high every night for his shift. And Kallie, well…” She shakes her head, trailing off. “Your background check came up the cleanest.”

That’s not surprising. For such a refutable company, Axiom Labs does tend to… take their chances on some people with sketchier backgrounds, mostly for the grunt work like graveyard shift custodian.

Still. It’s a lot more responsibility to be suddenly thrust into.

“Um, I’m, uh, not sure—”

Ravenna pays him no mind, continuing. “George usually arrives about eleven-thirty, according to his time-clocks. He’ll be the one to show you around tonight on B-1. I’ve got a new ID badge for you so you can access the floors you need to. Pay attention with what you do tonight, because George won’t show you anything tomorrow.” She explains, pulling a new ID badge and lanyard out from under the pile of papers on her clipboard. How that worked, Victor really had no idea. “Alexa is on maternity leave for the next eight weeks. If you do well during this time, there may be a permanent position open for you in the meanwhile.” Ravenna finally looks at Victor for the first time, her brown eyes staring directly into his. “That is, if you’re up for it, Mr. Hathorne.”

Up for it. Well—to be honest, it doesn’t feel like Victor’s being given a choice in whether he wants to do this or not. He takes the new ID badge—it’s the same as his current one, but less faded, at least he didn’t have to re-take the picture—and tries to force out a smile. It feels like he bares too many teeth with it. He nods, too. It feels weird and awkward. “Uh, I guess, I guess so.”

“Perfect. And like I said, George usually arrives around eleven-thirty, so in the meanwhile, work on your usual areas.”

Of course. Unfortunate that he doesn’t even get a break for this.

Ravenna makes her way to the door out of the break room, but she stops, her hand resting on the door knob. “Have a great night, Mr. Hathorne. And, oh—I suppose this goes without saying, but that NDA you signed when you first worked with us applies especially so on the basement levels.”

Right, right. It’d made sense that he had to sign an NDA, especially given the fact that Axiom Labs tends to work with experimental technology, but Victor had thought he wouldn’t be dealing with those floors, like, ever. But, somehow, it ends up finding a way to being his problem. Just his luck.

~~~

It’s night three of his new “job”, and it doesn’t feel any less unsettling to swipe his ID in the elevator to get access to the basement floors. Floors. The building was bigger than he was ever told—three different basement floors, specifically for research and development with secret projects and technologies up the wazoo.

Most of it dealing with ghosts.

Victor isn’t a religious man. He’s probably closest to some sort of pantheistic agnostic at this point, after all the ghost nonsense had started the same year he’d dropped out of college and moved back to what was supposed to be just a small city in the middle of nowhere, Ohio. It’d changed a lot, not just with Victor’s own personal beliefs, but the entire city had been literally uprooted and thrown into hell? At some point? He’s not even quite sure what happened, he’d been a little too high that day and also slept through half of it, but apparently the ghost boy, Phantom, had beaten some guy and saved the day.

But it’s safe to say he’s pretty indifferent to ghosts, at this point. They tended to leave most of his life alone, attacking through the city at night while Victor is scrubbing away at floor tiles and bathroom mirrors and chilling (mostly) during the day when he’s sound asleep in his apartment. They tended to stick to the downtown areas more; they’d attacked Axiom Labs before, too, but that had only ever been during the day.

He sighs, listening to the rock music crescendo on his MP3 player as the elevator finally dings for B2. George had gotten off at B1 already, and B2 was Kallie’s area. Now it’s Victor’s area.

It’s a lot more than he’d expected. He still doesn’t have access to all the rooms in the building. A few are locked off with “Authorized Personnel Only” signs in big letters on the door. He’d tried swiping his card through them once, just out of curiosity, but it didn’t work. Whatever. Victor doesn’t want to know what’s going on behind those doors. Possibly clandestine deals with the U.S. Government, those weird people always running around in white suits. Ghost Investigation Ward, or whatever?

Victor wished he didn’t have to care about those idiots but they’re worse than the Fentons. They keep sending people—living, breathing, human people—to the hospital from either their reckless driving or their horrible aims. At least with the Fentons, their inventions didn’t do more than stain clothes or leave nothing worse than a carpet burn, but those government pricks have more powerful weaponry that hurts. Victor remembers when Bill had to call off after he’d been caught in the crossfire of a GIW agent and Phantom on his way home. He was stuck in the hospital for a week, and the government wouldn’t pay him anything.

Taking out his ID again, Victor swipes it at the main janitorial closet on B2. Thanks to the government funding, at least, there’s a cleaning supply closet on every single floor. He doesn’t have to lug his usual mop and bucket setup from his usual floor all the way down to B2. Supplies are neatly color-coded and organized in this closet, and Victor tries to keep up with it as best as he can. Kallie’s incredibly neat and detail-oriented. He doesn’t want to mess with whatever system she’s got going here, especially since Kallie will be back from maternity leave, of all things, and will be a little more stressed than normal as schedules shift and fix themselves.

His MP3 player plays a Humpty Dumpty song next as he grabs a mop and a bucket, looking for the right concoction of chemicals to make the sudsy potion that leaves the floors sparkling clean. He knows what to mix and what not to mix—no accidental mustard gas creation here, folks— but Axiom Labs gets high quality stuff and they want it all used, all the time. Floor polish, soap, sanitation—everything. He grabs the soap first, pouring a bottlecap worth of the fluid before mixing it into the bucket until it starts to sud up. Once it does, it’s pretty easy. He hooks the mop handle under the bucket and rolls it out into the hallway, ready to start his shift.

Halfway through mopping, though, a crash echoes through the hallway, and Victor jumps.

His MP3 player stops working. There’s a fog in the air as he breathes. The temperature plummets, and the light fixtures flicker.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Of course there’s a ghost on his floor. Actually, wait, no, it’s not even his floor, it’s Kallie’s floor, and with how Axiom Labs and the government are working together, why should he even be surprised that a ghost is down here, at this point? Victor groans as he pushes the bucket out from the center of the floor, digging into his pocket for his phone.

Protocol, protocol, protocol…! He remembers the training. B.O.O., or whatever they’d called it. Something cheesy. Back out, organize, and what was that last thing…?

His phone turns on, but there’s no signal. Or Wi-Fi.

Of course.

He’s barely able to pocket his phone before he hears another bang behind him, and a loud curse from around the corner.

Victor freezes. He knows he should get out of there. Ghosts never really meant anything good, in his experience. Especially in a building like this, which was armed with anti-ghost technology developed by Axiom Labs, some by FentonTech, and all paid for with government funds. The building had been incredibly tricked out since the first ghost attack, so Victor didn’t think he really had to worry.

But. But. Curiosity killed the cat, and Victor nervously pokes his head around the corner to see who’s there.

Is that… Phantom?

The ghost is floating a few inches off the ground, one gloved hand sizzling from something. He’s not dressed in his usual garb. His white boot are gone, replaced with steel-toed combat boots, and it looks like a black hoodie was thrown over him to try to hide some of his glow. But with his floating, it’s still obvious he’s a ghost.

“No, Tuck, that didn’t work either.” Phantom says, holding one hand up to his ear. Probably to a phone, or communicator. Hopefully not to a ghost that Victor can’t see. He laughs at something. “Oh, yeah, sure, like an ID card is just going to appear out of the blue for me.”  

What is he even doing here?

“I can try to go under, but I bet they’ve made sure to ghost-proof the floors and ceilings of that room, too.” Phantom adds, sighing. He pauses for a beat. “No, you guys wait outside, I don’t want you getting too involved with this. Yeah, I know, but I don’t want your faces plastered on wanted posters all across the city! It’s bad enough with me—" It devolves into an argument.

Phantom is here. That’s not normal. Phantom tends to avoid the Axiom Lab building like the plague. Most ghosts do. Maybe they can sense something that humans can’t. Maybe they just don’t want to deal with the ghost-hunters that are often in the place during the daytime, and they don’t have a use for it. But Phantom is here. Why is that?

Victor does believe Phantom is a good guy. Er, ghost. He died young, too young—even though photos can’t show ghosts that well, this isn’t the first time Victor has seen Phantom in the non-corporeal flesh. The way that baby fat still clings to his cheeks is obvious. Phantom died young. Everyone in Amity Park knows that. Most think he’s trying to do good, at the very least; be the hero for everybody else that he never had. It’s noble.

But Axiom Labs isn’t the bad guy.

… Right?

“Yeah, yeah, Tuck. I get it. Give me some time to think. I might be able to—” Phantom glances around, before he locks eyes with Victor, and stops. “—Um. Lemme get back to you.”

Shit, shit shit. Victor jumps back from the corner. Maybe he didn’t actually see him?

But a cold tap on the shoulder from behind gives it away. Victor tries to hide the shock as best as he can, but he still jumps a bit at Phantom’s sudden appearance behind him. How did you even…?

“Hi! You’re not gonna kill me, right?”

“U-uh, no, I’m just a janitor.” Plus, you’re a ghost, aren’t you already dead? Victor wants to add, but death always seems like an inappropriate topic to discuss with a ghost.

“Great! Good. You’re not going to call any back-up, either, are you?”

“I—um—” If he could, he probably would. But also, it’s just Phantom. And also, he can’t, probably because of Phantom. He does feel himself pale a bit, though, and he nervously pockets his phone again.  “N-No.”

Phantom nods, floating back a bit. Victor’s a little jealous of that. He’d love to float whenever he wanted. But he’s quite content with the beat of his heart and his feet on the ground right now.

“Awesome. Cool. Do you have an ID that could get me into the central room, there?”

“I don’t think I have the clearance for it.”

“Hm. One sec.” Phantom taps at his ear again. “Tuck, you still there?”

A beat of silence. Victor can almost hear a response, but it’s too quiet and muffled to make any specific words out.

“Yeah, I got an ID, but it doesn’t have clearance. Can you…? Okay, yeah.” Suddenly, Phantom is holding Victor’s ID. He doesn’t even remember giving it to Victor. “Good now? Cool! Thanks.” Phantom starts floating back into the direction, with Victor’s ID in hand. “Just need to borrow this quickly, concerned citizen!”

“I—I will, uh, need that back—" Victor starts to follow him. There’s an odd, calming aura around Phantom. Or maybe he’s been hypnotized. He doesn’t know. The older folk of Amity Park always say Phantom is manipulating and hypnotizing the younger people. Are they right? Probably not. They can’t even figure out how to print a document properly. But they might have a grain of truth to it.

“Sure, right after—” Phantom swipes Victor’s ID on the card reader. The card reader immediately explodes into flames, which Phantom quickly freezes over. The door does, somehow, slide open. He sheepishly passes Victor’s ID back. “Uh. Sorry. You might need a new one.”

It’s singed. The printed picture of Victor’s face is completely covered in ash and soot, and one corner of it is melted, now.

Victor shakes his head, pocketing it. He watches Phantom enter the center room. It is the one room he’d been the most curious about. No windows to try to peer through, a steel door, state-of-the-art security clearance… What could be hiding there? He opens his mouth, not hesitating to ask his questions. “Phantom, what are you—what are you even doing here?”

Silence. Victor hesitates, before stepping through the doorframe.

There’s a lot of anti-ghost technology scattered about. It definitely looks like a laboratory in there, but more like a mad scientist lab than what Victor had been cleaning on the higher levels. Vials of glowing green liquids lined the walls. Ectoplasm, by the look and smell of it. It’s radioactive, am I even safe to be in here?

With Phantom’s nonchalant attitude in the room, Victor assumes he’ll be okay for now. The ghost has some wild protective instincts over anyone living in Amity Park, which does rarely come in handy sometimes (like the time the town had been taken to hell. Yeah, that thing Victor somehow slept through most of).

“Ah. There you are!” Phantom grabs something from one of the tables gently, pulling the thermos off of his belt loop. It’s a small orb, about the size of his palm, and it’s pulsating with a faint turquoise glow. He uncaps the thermos, and doesn’t even press the button on the side, just sliding the orb into the tube and closing it tightly. “Sorry I took a bit, Ember, I’ll get you back to the zone pronto.”

Ember? Like, the singer?

“Phantom, what…?” Victor trails off, before getting another look at the room. There are vials of ectoplasm, but there’s also a faint trace of it on the walls. Like something had been fought in the room. It had been violent. Eventually subdued, but the glow on the walls, barely visible under the glow of the left-on computer and the ghost in front of him, looked like blood splatters. It’d been violent. Too violent.

And that orb—it’d been the only thing to survive.

Phantom doesn’t respond.

“Phantom?”

“I should go, before you get fired.”

“But wait—what—who was that? What… what happened in here?” Victor might be dyslexic, he might’ve dropped out of college, but he had a deep, sinking feeling in his gut that something was wrong. Very, very wrong. The air felt like it’d been sucked out of the room, and replaced with imprints of what had happened. It was almost… painful.

Eventually, Phantom speaks. “Under the Federal Anti-Ecto Control Acts, any creature found to have traces of ectoplasm in their blood is legally seen as a non-sentient entity that needs to be captured, studied, and destroyed. The Guys in White don’t have any lab set up in Amity, so they take advantage of Axiom during the day.”

Captured.

Studied.

Destroyed.

“Look, uh, mister.” Phantom breaks the silence again. His voice cracks a bit. “I should get going. Um, if anyone asks, I possessed you for this, okay? Then, at least, you won’t get fired for this.” He laughs, nervously. “Thanks for the help, though.”

I didn’t really help much, Victor thought. He hadn’t even really handed Phantom his ID card. But, then again, Victor didn’t really stop him, either.

“S-Sure.” Victor eventually stutters out.

And, just like he’d appeared without warning, Phantom disappeared, leaving Victor alone in the lab with his thoughts.

~~~

His resignation papers were on Ravenna’s desk by the morning.

[mxrvelouss]

The Scene at the Mall (pt 2) | Mike Schmidt x Reader

warning: brief mentions of a toxic relationship and harrassment, fluff

note: be sure to read pt 1 if you haven't already! :)

also! there is a hunger games reference, see if you can spot it! ;)

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

Your gentle laugh rings through Mike's ears, causing him to look at you with a wide smile. The two of you walk through the mall, hands intertwined, staring into each others' adoring eyes.

"I love my necklace," you say, softly touching the shiny piece of jewelry that sat on your chest.

"You picked it out," Mike laughs.

"Yeah, but you paid," you retort, giggling. The two of you continued to smile at each other. Oh, how you wished you could stay in this moment forever.

******

Ever since he potentially saved your life at the very same mall about a year ago, you made it a point to go there every time after work, since it was just right down the street from the restauraunt you waitressed at. And every single time, there he was, patrolling the place as a security guard.

He sure works a lot, you remember thinking to yourself. It wasn't until a few months after you met that you found out the reason for that was so he could take care of his little sister, Abby. "I'd do anything for her," he told you one night as he walked you out to your car after his shift was over. "Even if it means working a thousand hours a week- as long as it means a better life for her, I would do absolutely anything."

And now here you were, holding hands with this perfect guy. You two had offically been a couple for two and a half months now; and you had never been happier. Abby loved you, and you would help her and Mike at every possible chance. For once, the both of you were off work today, and Abby was at school- so the two of you decided to go to the mall after having breakfast at his house.

"Aren't you sick of that place?" you teased as you got into the passenger seat of his car.

"Yeah, but I want to buy you a necklace," he said, blushing. "I've been saving up."

"Mike!" you exclaim. "No. You know you don't have to get me-"

He reached over and softly put his index finger on your lip, cutting you off. "Shhh. I've made up my mind."

You sit back, sighing in mock defeat. "Alright, you win," you giggle.

Once the two of you got to the mall and went to the jewelry store, a beautiful, silver necklace with a heart at the end caught your eye. When you saw the price, however, you didn't want to ask- but it was too late. Mike already saw the way your eyes lit up, and he got a worker to get it out of the glass case before you could even react.

Mike looked over at you as the worker handed him the jewelry. "Don't feel bad. I promise this is what I want for you. Okay?"

You nodded, and he started to bring the necklace up to your neck. "May I?"

He went behind you, gently bringing the necklace over your shoulders and clasping it around your neck. The feel of his fingers against your skin made you shiver.

"There," he said, turning you around to look at the necklace.

"Mike Schmidt, you're better at putting on necklaces than me!" you laughedd.

"Well," he grinned. "I've had some practice with Abby. My mom has a few necklaces that she likes to wear sometimes." He looked down and started to shuffle his feet.

You put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you," you said softly. You take his hands, lean in, and give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Once Mike paid, the two of you walked out, hand in hand, and started to stroll down the area.

"It's definitely a lot easier to enjoy the mall when you don't have to work," Mike says.

Your gentle laugh rings through Mike's ears, causing him to look at you with a wide smile. The two of you walk through the mall, hands intertwined, staring into each others' adoring eyes.

"I love my necklace," you say, softly touching the shiny piece of jewelry that sat on your chest.

"But you picked it out," Mike laughs.

"Yeah, but you paid," you retort, giggling. The two of you continued to smile at each other. Oh, how you wished you could stay in this moment forever.

But all good things must come to an end, because at that moment, a voice from behind catches your attention, immediately sending chills down your spine.

"Well, well, y/n. Nice to see that you moved on."

You whip around, letting go of Mike's hand. The man (now in front of you) continues.

"It's been, what, two years since the breakup?" he sneers. "You won't be able to forget me, no matter how hard you try, y/n." Everything in you just wanted to run as far away from him as possible. This was Danny, your ex-boyfriend from high school. What started as a typical high school romance turned into a controlling, toxic relationship. You felt your cheeks turn red as Mike protectively inched closer to you. You could feel his body starting to tense up.

"Do you know him?" he asks, his voice low.

"'Course she does," Danny says. "We have a lot of...history. Don't we, y/n?" He looks down at you, a twisted smile spreading across his face.

"Why are you acting like such a creep?!" you burst out. "Leave us alone." You couldn't deal with this, not now, not ever. Things were so perfect with Mike, and now you were scared that, somehow, in some way, Danny would convince Mike that you weren't good enough for him.

Just like he convinced you you'd never fall in love again.

Suddenly Danny's eyes start to travel down your face, your neck, and then lands on your chest, where the necklace lays. You feel sick.

"Ah, so did Lover Boy over here buy you this?" Danny suddenly stretches out his arm and grabs hold of your necklace.

"What the-?!" Mike screams, shoving Danny away and grabbing hold of your hand. He places himself in front of you and Danny, who is smiling, as if he's amused by the whole situation.

"Don't you ever touch me again," you say, your voice trembling. Mike looks at you, concerned, and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before he lets go. He walks toward Danny, inches away from his face.

"Get out of here," Mike says, his voice dangerously low. "And don't ever come near y/n again."

"Or what, Lover Boy?" Danny sneers again.

"Or I'll call the authorities and have you arrested for assault." Mike reaches into his pocket and pulls out an ID which says he's a mall security guard. "Unless you want me to do so right now? I do happen to know the head of security here..."

You smile. Go, Mike! you cheer in your head.

Danny's arrogant smile fades. He looks at you one more time. "It won't last," he says. "Soon you'll be running back to me."

"Get. Out." Mike growls. And finally, Danny turns and walks away.

Mike turns to you, grabbing hold of your hands. You start to talk. "I'm so, so sorry-"

"Hey, hey, hey, you don't have to apologize for anything," Mike says, gently placing his palm on your cheek and brushing a strand of hair out of your face. He pulls you into a hug, and you happily accept it, letting the warmth of his strong body spread over you.

"I guess you can see why that relationship didn't work out," you say into his shoulder with a weak laugh.

"Maybe you should stop going to malls," Mike jokes back as he pulls away from the embrace and looks at you with loving eyes. You chuckle, looking back into them.

"This will last," he says confidently, his hands on your shoulders.

"I know," you say with a soft smile. "And this will prove it."

You wrap your hands around his waist, pulling him forward, and softly press your lips against his. He kisses back with such love and gentleness that you just want to explode with emotion. He brings his hands through your hair and then pulls back, his hands now cupping your face.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too, Mike."

[rafyki]

Goth! Nico/ Surfer! Percy AU Part 6!

Sorry for the little wait, I couldn't find a moment to write lately o<-< good thing I had this half written already! Anyway, have some more Nico&Leo dynamics and some more pining - and also, I promise things are gonna move forward soon!! (but I needed more setup before our two boys finally start properly acting on their crush lmao)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

You can also read it on AO3!!

~~~~~~

Percy didn't come to the beach the next day, the day after that, and for the whole following week.

Nico wasn't sulking about it, he was not. Maybe panicking a little inside, questioning every single word they had said to each other and trying to find in them some hidden reason that would push Percy to never go back there and leave the country just to make sure he wouldn't see Nico again. 

But he wasn't sulking.

“Take that pouty look off your face, goth boy, you're gonna scare the customers away”.

“I’m not pouting”.

“You kind of are though”, Leo said. “Which is fair, I guess, you miss your surfer boy”.

Nico felt a blush coming up to his face at the same time of the familiar find annoyance he associated with no one but Leo.

“He's not my-”, he started, then stopped and took a deep breath. “I'm not pouting”, he just said again. “It's not like he lives on the beach, right, he must have a life outside of surfing”.

Maybe he was trying to convince himself more than Leo, but that didn't matter.

The way his eyes moved around scanning the beach was automatic, as was the sigh that escaped him. Maybe he was being silly, and a little pathetic - he knew that, but still couldn’t help the way his heart kept falling again and again, nor the way the empty chair before him (Percy’s chair) seemed to lay in wait just like Nico was.

He definitely needed to find some way to distract himself.

“Sure, which is why I told you to ask for his number”, Leo replied. “And if you had listened to my genius advice, maybe you could be texting him right now, instead of sulking and hoping he shows up”.

“Why are you even here, Leo?”, he said, ignoring Leo’s last words and trying instead to change the subject. “Jason’s not coming today, you know that”.

“Am I not allowed to visit a friend? My dear friend who’s pining and suffering and definitely needs my support?”, Leo said, accompanying his dramatic words with an overdramatic hand on his heart. 

Nico just rolled his eyes at him.

“I definitely don't”, he said, even though the truth was that he actually enjoyed the company. Leo’s presence was the only thing saving him from a long and lonely work day. “And non-shift days for Jason are usually when you have your dates”, he added.

“I knoow”, Leo said, a pout forming on his lips. “But Thalia came back yesterday, so today is their brother-and-sister date”.

“Ah, that’s right, Jason did mention that”.

“Can’t interfere with siblings time”.

“So you had nothing better to do today and came here”.

“I came here to save you from your loneliness, goth boy”, Leo said. “Also, I do enjoy your company”.

Nico smiled, and offered him ice cream as a silent thanks. 

“It reminds me of when it was the other way around and you helped me when I was pining for Jason”.

Nico made a face at the memory, then laughed. “Oh my god, you were terrible- absolutely pathetic”, he said. “Thank god you’re together now”.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m gonna say when you and your surfer boy will finally get together”.

Nico’s smile faltered, his heart jumping and then growing heavy at the words - like it couldn’t decide if he felt more pleased at the idea of it ever happening or more glum at the prospect of Percy never going back there.

Few long moments of silence followed, and Nico’s mind went back to the thoughts tormenting him.

And there was also something else, something that Nico was trying not to focus too much about. 

Leo looked at Nico in silence for a while, his cheek resting on the palm of his hand. Nico could almost see the gears turning in his head. “Are you worried about him?”

Nico looked away. He felt stupid thinking about it even more than he did when panicking and making everything probably bigger than it was. 

Logically speaking, it was unlikely that Percy would stop coming to the beach just because Nico was there - there wasn't really anything between them, after all and, from what Nico knew about him, the ocean and surfing were way too important for Percy to give up. 

But it had been a week, and Percy usually came at least two or three times a week, even just for an hour (Nico spent way too much time thinking about him and looking for him to not notice this) - yet, there the beach was, full of people but with no Percy in sight. Nico felt his heart fall again as he scanned the shore around him, looking for familiar black hair and beautiful eyes. He couldn't help but wonder if something had happened, if Percy was doing alright.

“You know he might just be busy”.

���I know”.

“So I think there's no reason for you to worry about him”.

Nico sighed. “I hate it when you make sense”, he said. “Jason is definitely rubbing off of you”.

“That's what love does to a man!”

Nico felt that now familiar pang of not-quite-jealousy as he looked at the smile growing on his friend's face. His eyes scanned the beach again as the thought of I want that too crossed his mind, side by side with the image of two sea-green eyes and a soft smile.

~~~

Nico didn’t expect anything to happen. He spent the whole day waiting and waiting in the hope of Percy showing up, his heart feeling heavier and heavier with every passing hour. 

The truth was that, simply put, he missed Percy - which was stupid and ridiculous, but Nico had been dying to talk to him again, to feel his eyes on himself again, to be on the receiving end of his smile, to get to know something more about him.

He’ll come back at some point, he told himself. Maybe. 

The sun was coming down, the sky colored a pretty shade of yellow and orange and red. The day had felt infinite, time dragging on and simply refusing to pass by, but Nico’s shift was finally almost over. He looked at his phone to check the time, wishing the next fifteen minutes would simply come to an end faster.

He cursed all the gods of all the pantheons ever existed when he saw someone sitting before him. God, how he hated when customers did that.

He forced his usual work smile on his lips and looked up. Then did a double take - the girl sitting in front of him looked strangely familiar, even though he was pretty sure he didn’t actually know her.

All the while taking her order (just a cold water bottle - who even came to a beach kiosk at that hour to ask for nothing but a water bottle?) Nico kept thinking and wondering; maybe she just came there often? But there was something about her that kept pulling at Nico’s memory.

It hit him at once when she was handing him the money to pay.

Ah, it was her. The girl who usually came to the beach with Percy. Nico felt his heart starting to beat faster at the realization.

Would it be weird to ask her about Percy?

Yes it would!, his mind yelled at him. 

But at the same time, every cell in his body was telling him that it didn’t matter, that this was too much of a lucky chance to just let it pass by.

Lost in his thoughts like that, he was definitely taking way more time than necessary to get her change.  

He was worried, he missed Percy so much it was frankly absurd. And he thought his friends would probably back him up in this

“Here”, he said, as he finally handed her her change.

She thanked him and went to turn around. “Uhm!”, Nico started before he could really think about it and stop himself. “Excuse me-”

She turned to look at him again. Was Nico imagining the weird look in her eyes? Yes, she was probably simply annoyed at being called back. “Yes?”

“Ah- sorry”, Nico said, feeling so incredibly stupid. Maybe he should just back out. But then he thought of the long day he had had and of the hole he had felt the whole time. He pushed the words out.

“Uhm, you’re a friend of Percy, right?”

“Yes”, the girl said, nodding. This time Nico was almost certain that there was a weird look in her eyes that he couldn’t exactly interpret - but she looked more curious than anything else, so he counted it as a sign he could go on.

“I just- I just noticed he hasn’t been coming here lately…?”, he said, trying and failing to will his heart to calm down a little. “... is he alright?”

“Oh yeah, he’s been talking about you!”, she replied. “He’s alright, he’s just out of town. He went to New York to visit his mum”.

“Ah, that’s good”. 

The relief was soon pushed aside when the words the girl had said finally hit him.

He’s been talking about you.

What?

He only vaguely registered the girl saying goodbye and waving at him before leaving.

Nico waved back, feeling numb. He hoped his expression wasn’t as dumbstruck as he felt.

He’s been talking about you.

Percy had been talking about him? Nico’s heart was playing athletics in his chest, the butterflies taking residence in his stomach were throwing the most chaotic party ever.

He’s been talking about you.

He put his face in his hands, hiding behind his palms the foolish happy smile that was growing on his lips.

Suddenly, the day didn’t feel as bad as before.