#ooc: all i can think about is one of them asking the other if they think he can die

[neros-left-pec]

gaming with dante/vergil/nero

🥀 pairings: dante x fem!reader, vergil x fem!reader, nero x fem!reader

🥀 summary: how the boys would react to your games or how they would play games idk. just gaming headcanons!

🥀 warnings/tags: just fluff + probably OOC

🥀 author's note: i have really bad dmc brainrot but ive never even played the games (don't ask how this happened) LOL. i kinda see these as crack hcs since im not actually familiar with their canon personalities but i hope u can enjoy it regardless!

dante

always picks the worst/unhinged dialogue options bc he wants to see what happens

starts laughing if it ends up with people getting mad at each other, bonus points if they start fighting for real

"Ooooh no, he didn't like that! OH SHIT, HE PUNCHED HIM! GET HIM!!"

refers to every protagonist as dude, regardless of gender or species

adores mariokart. gets waaaay into the motion controls and nearly destroys the living room coffee table

sits behind you while you play and narrates everything to piss you off. makes a big deal when you mess up to tease you

"In a world... where she messes up every single quick-time-event-"

absolutely cracked at rhythm games, just dance is his SHIT. also really enjoys osu!

loves playing coop with you and distracting u with tickles or kisses till you get mad

he loooooooooooooooooooooooves making you mad bro is a master at ragebait

vergil

he says games are a waste of time, but once he finds one he likes he will memorize every mechanic almost instantly.

huge fan of strategic games. his favorites are fire emblem, civ and mahjong. mahjong counts right?

loves playing mahjong online with other losers and beating them. however is sooo annoyed at all the fan service in mahjong games. he likes playing riichi city but had to turn on the family friendly setting and only plays with the default character.

hates RNG. avoids gachas like they are the plague

you normally game in the living room while he sits next to you reading a book. if you start to get emotional over the story, he will arch an eyebrow. he ever so slightly leans into you to comfort you

you definitely notice and give him a pointed look. he sees you staring, but keeps his eyes focused on the book. but damn him, you can see a little smirk form in the corner of his mouth

pretends like he isnt paying attention but definitely is. gets invested if the story is really good

makes a surprisingly good partner in coop games. he'll act annoyed but will carry you anyway lol

teaches you how to play mahjong so you both can play

you love it when he explains things to you

whenever he catches you staring lovingly when he explains the rules to you, he blushes a tad and his eyebrows kinda raise in surprise. but its sooooooooooo subtle.

he catches himself pretty quick but you dont miss it hehe

nero

loves horror games but jumps at EVERYTHINGGGG LOL ITS SO CUTE

screams like a bitch honestly

gets weirdly competitive about mario kart. he will not hesitate to obliterate you with blue shells but he'll give you lots of smooches after to make up for it

always wants to name his character something stupid.

"I'm calling him Boob lord" (he would name a pokemon this)

teases you if you get flustered over flirty game characters

"Is your face red?? Oh my god, it is, are you serious? You're gonna fall for that? It's so corny!"

thinks he can do better hehe gets a bit jellyyyy

loves couch coop. will sit way too close and will flick u in the forehead if you cause him to lose

"No you forgot the- oh my god, fine, I'll get it!"

[nionom-art]

Man every time I see your art as well as other Miraculous AU writers/artists it makes me really want to make my own au. I've got ideas, but i always worry it won't ever be as good as I'd want it to be or too ooc. How do you get past all those concerns? Do you have a support system for things like this?

Well, one thing that weirdly helps me is knowing that no matter how good I do, someone out there is going to dislike my au- and that’s perfectly okay. I mean, even the best books out there have one star reviews on Amazon, after all. We all have different tastes and interests, which is awesome, actually.

The thing is though, there is always someone out there who will LOVE your work- it’s exactly their thing. One thing I’ve learned is that if you like what you create, others will too (if you want to create a story, chances are there are people out there who want to see exactly the thing your writing about in a story as much as you do).

I am a people pleaser unfortunately, so I worry about people’s perception of me all the time. Keeping this in mind helps a lot with that.

The way I personally get past my own concerns about being ooc or not being good enough is by realizing that all I really need to do is try my best. There’s no way my renditions of specific characters will be completely in character all the time. I mean, look at all the most popular fanfics out there- I guarantee a good number of the characters in those fics are ooc. But that’s what’s cool about fanfiction- we all have our different takes on characters- and I think that’s really awesome. Personally, I think it’s fine for characters to be ooc, not only because it shows the author’s creativity and intent, but, well, also cuz it’s inevitable honestly. So, as long as you’re happy with how you wrote the character, don’t worry too much about them being ooc.

Now, if I ever feel like I’m not getting a character, or am unsatisfied with the way I wrote them, I often ask for another opinion (usually from my sister). She thinks very differently from me, which is helpful for writing characters I wouldn’t otherwise get very well (Lila and Adrien- looking at you). She thinks of all sorts of things I never would have thought of on my own (big thanks to her for being my pseudo editor, haha).

So I would say having a small group of irl or online friends to share your work with really helps- even if it’s just one person. They can give helpful feedback and can offer some support too.

Hope something in here helps!

[moonlilymusings]

warnings: !MDNI! fem!reader, sub!anaxa, dom!reader, pegg!ng, cro$$dres!ng, ooc anaxa? possibly. this was funny to me so i wrote it down and now i share it with my lovely munchkins, idk what words tumblr has blocked so im just gonna censor every word that makes me raise an eyebrow. uhhhhhhhhhhh idk what else to tag. not proofread lmao.

“I don’t think you fully understand my creative vision,” you say, trying to keep your face convincingly serious. Anaxagoras wasn’t buying it.

You two stand in silence once more before you continue your argument for the idea.

“Aglaea will never recognize you if you’re wearing a dress- because *you* would never do that!”

Again, Anaxa stands there, arms crossed, one hip timed to the side as he stares at you in utter bafflement. Beside you, Hyacine can’t contain her laughter.

“Please, master?” She asks with her best puppy eyes. “I think her plan will work, we just have to trust each other!”

Anaxa’s steely mask cracks at the words of the girl in front of him and he turn his gaze to you, who is attempting to look innocent, but are making a fool of yourself.

“If you truly think it only takes a dress to fool the *dressmaker*, you are surely besotten,” he says sharply. You hand him a wig and a pair of heels. He snatches them from you and stomps away.

As much as he’d like to defend himself in this situation, he has no other reason to be angry doing this than out of sheer petty. Sneaking into a feast just to steal a plate of food… he’s sure if the two of you asked, Agalaea would have accommodated you, but you were slower sometimes, especially when it comes to social cues and Hyacine is one of your few validators. And then there was that damn dress… to say he was entirely repulsed by it would be a lie. He knows he looks good, he knows he has a lithe build, a *frail* one at that. And he knows how much you eyeball his waist when he’s doing menial tasks. It makes him feel warm, despite all reason. Despite the two of you already being some sort of relationship already. Anaxa knows what makes your cogs turn and you know his. He knows you love arguing with him, so the encounter before was simply foreplay. And here he is, wearing a dress and sneaking into the back of Aglaea’s party. The dress is almost the same color as his hair and it’s silky and breathable. One side is hitched up to reveal his leg, his knee leading down to his decorated ankle. His heels are one of the popular shoes in style at the moment and the hairpiece is a snowy white color that reminds him of one of his students and covers his hidden eye. He makes a bee-line for the food table. As pretty as he felt, his stomach couldn’t stop doing flips. “A dromas dressed in finery,” he hears someone chuckle among the crowd. It makes him stop in his tracks before he continues onward, never forgetting his mission. As he’s loading the plate, he begins to question where it went wrong.

Why am I here?

Why am I doing this for them?

Do they really think they can tell me what to do?

I wonder if anyone recognizes me…

Why did I allow this?

Maybe she’ll let me keep the shoes…

He sighs, finishing the masterpiece of an artfully stacked food plate and he places another atop it to keep it from flying away. He smirks to himself.

“Too easy,” he chuckles, turning on his heel to leave.

Aglaea.

She’s staring at him with cold eyes, her fingers tapping against her cheek. Usually he would glare, but he’s not supposed to be him right now, is he? Anaxa diverts his eye contact and takes a different exit before breaking out in a run. The two girls behind the stupid idea peak up from their hiding place, a grin on each face. Anaxa falls behind the bush between the two and he shoves the plate of food in your hands. “There. Now get me home.”

You lay on his bed as he dries himself from the small bath he had just finished bathing in. He didn’t seem to hold the same affinity for baths as the other Crysos Heirs, but perhaps he did without expressing much about it.

“You looked really pretty today,” you say with a suppressed grin. He really did stun you. Every day he does, something new and beautiful every day. He grumbles something under his breath as he turns his back on you, standing in front of a full length mirror to dry his hair.

“You should put it on again,” you say, watching his reflected expression. He’s blushing madly and his eyes are squeezed shut.

“And why would I do that?” He asks through grit teeth.

“I want to show you just how pretty you are. Is that so bad?”

Anaxagoras is on his back, fingers clutching the sheets as you suck him off, your hands squeezing his thighs apart to keep him from accidentally knocking you in the head. His eyes are screwed shut but every twist and flick of your tongue has them rolling back. Your other hand is occupied alternating between stretching him open and massaging his balls, fingers reaching for his prostate, rubbing at it before pulling away just a little too soon. He curses your name and then blesses it, opening his legs and then squeezing them around your head. You commanded him to touch his chest during this but that was easily forgotten as soon as you started fingering him.

The dress is bunched up around his hips and pulled down from his collar bone to expose his fished chest. He insisted on the heels if he was to wear the dress and what started as soft praises and kisses turned into.. this. His hand reached for your hair but you catch it, pushing his lithe wrist to rub his palm against his abdomen, further teasing himself.

Anaxa hates sex. He can’t be composed, nor can he overpower without begging before the act, nor can he use this for his research, nor does it aid in clearing his mind of you at all. And to be brought to his knees by mere pleasure stimuli and not someone he has determined the on the same level as himself is truly humbling. You have complete power over him and the fact he could best you in every academic endeavor could not matter less in this environment. The smartest thing to do would be to submit.

He places his heeled foot against your shoulder and pushes with all his might and it works. You complain mildly but then you hook his legs over your shoulder, mindlessly kissing his ankles as he feels the strap that you had put in earlier catch on his hole. He bites his lip as it pushes against him, his eyelashes fluttering. This is humiliating, he thinks, as he always does.

Anaxa angles his hips to take the strap a little deeper before you still him and push his legs up further, his knees on each side of his head. You kiss him deeply and that brings the first vocal moan from him, his eyes rolling back as you penetrate his soft hole. He can’t move, he can’t think, he is rendered completely at the mercy of this person who just fell into his life. Brilliant.

You thrust into him softly at first, but you’re quickly emcouraged to go faster by him tugging on your hair and biting at your lips. You whisper to him to calm down but that only makes him more insistent.

You often get distracted during sex, especially when he’s bottoming. His eyes are so pretty you just fall right in. When you nuzzle into his neck and inhale the scent of his hair, you loose yourself. When you kiss and he draws his tongue against your teeth and lips, you find yourself pressing closer and closer, stilling your hips but lapping at his tongue as though his mouth were ambrosia and you, a dying man. He knew you got distracted but he just chalked that up to you being careless. He’d pinch your cheek or arm and pull you back into reality. You feel him pinch your cheek as you reminisce on this.

Anaxa’s body, lithe and curved with little muscle.. you reel back and hold his legs as you begin a steady pace, eager to pleasure him, make him have positive memories to associate with today and this dress. Perhaps if you do a good enough job, he’ll wear it for you again…

[kai34902]

Addiction to Tranquility

Blurb: When all eyes are on you, you are forced to preform. till your legs bleed, your heart torn apart, and your mind goes numb you must not stop. Until a boy who has no interest in anything but science and space becomes a safe haven for you.

Or alternatively

When two people realize their feelings too late, and now must rebuild civilization while also try to get rid of their feelings for the other. Just one problem: they're addicted to each other

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔《✽✽✽⋆⁎⋆☽♡☾⋆⁎⋆✽✽✽》°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔《✽✽✽⋆⁎⋆☽♡☾⋆⁎⋆✽✽✽》°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Paring: Senku x reader

Can be found on

Ao3

Quotev

Prologue 2: Petrification

Summery: middle school years and what goes on in readers head when petrified

<Previous ☽♡☾ Next>

Word count: 2389

Warning: not proof read, still a bit on readers backstory, maybe ooc, swear words, terrible attempts on what I call flirting, and 1st person

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔《✽✽✽⋆⁎⋆☽♡☾⋆⁎⋆✽✽✽》°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

As we grew up I never dropped my old habit of talking to the moon. It was my first friend and I'm not the type of person to drop a friend for another person. It was only when I got caught talking to it and rumors spread that was when I temporarily halted my nightly activities. 

Being upset was an understatement. With no one left to rant to, I went to the closest person I know, Senku.

“Hypothetically If I were to be caught talking to someone I shouldn't, how would I go about it so I could talk to them again?” I asked one night. I was on top of his bed reading ‘Romeo and Juliet’ while he was looking at something on his computer.

“If this is about the moon or the retainers again, doll, I don't wanna hear it”

“No!” I lied “its for something else you stupid genius” I sat up and pouted

He tilted his heat to face me “Then I suggest you should meet them again and discuss another way of communication”

“Huh…”

That night when I got home I was thinking about other ways to talk to my friend. I heard a faint voice coming from my brother, Daniel’s tv. I peeked into his room to find him watching a music video that was from Lillian Weinberg. I recall Lilian being Daniel’s friend. How they became friends I don't know, what else that I don't know is how Daniel even managed to talk or befriend her.

I had an epiphany right there. People only judge me for talking to the moon because it looked like I was talking to myself. It is often believed that talking to yourself means you're crazy, but if I sing instead it's a lot more normalized.

 I started to sing when I was alone or humming when I was with someone. Turns out singing to the moon was such a great solution that I solved another problem I had. It solved the problem of silence that I hated. That problem was so bad that I couldn't sleep without some noise at night. So everytime that it was quiet I started to hum to myself, even in Senku’s room. He never said anything about me singing or humming so I continued on. It soon became our norm. But I've always wondered what he really thought of it.

When Taiju and Senku finally entered middle school I begged my baba to let me join. He was still on the fence despite me showing improvement after the incident. It was only when Al came and talked with him did baba finally applied for me to join their school. 

It was there when our friend group grew from three to four with Yuzuriha. She wasn’t part of the science club that Senku joined nor the student council that I was a part of. We met her when Taiju introduced her with four small dolls that resembled all four of us. Taiju exclaimed that it was for Senku’s rocket.

We climbed up on a hill that was away from the school and pedestrians. Senku was obviously struggling with carrying his bag so I offered to take it off of him, but to my surprise he told me no. The reply was quick and stirn that I was taken aback at first but quickly shut up. I realized quickly when spending time with him that Senku and Bakuya are both eccentric to a fault. I heard Taiju’s cheeky grin and Yuzuriha giggle so I quickly turned around and side eyed them.

The four of us quickly started setting up. Taiju and Yuzuriha setting up the rocket’s stand, Senku setting the controls, and me putting the small dolls in the rocket. We counted down and right on three Senku pushed the big red button that set the rocket flying.

The tree of us watched as the rocket flew up in the sky. All of the years of hard work lead to this moment. While we were doing that, Senku was monitoring it through his computer. When it exploded I could feel my heart shatter. We faced Senku, waiting for an answer.

“It exploited at high altitude” He muttered

“We failed again” Taiju grabbed his hair as Yuzuriha was awkwardly staring at him.

“Heh, no, not entirely” Senku spun his computer to face us. It showed video footage from what I assume was a satellite in space. There on the screen were the four dolls Yuzuriha made floating around. Happiness and relief coursed through my veins that I hugged Senku with such force that I made him lose his balance and fall.

“h-Hey!”

“We did it! I thought we failed…” my voice muttered through tears. For a moment I thought Senku would push me off of him but he just patted my back.

“Haha! We did it!” Taiju pulled us up and gave us a big hug.

“Hey! Stop! you're crushing me!” Senku tried to free himself from taiju’s grasp.

Yuzuriha and I shared a big laugh. As I wiped my hot tears away. It's a shame that I'm a major empath to a fault.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔《✽✽✽⋆⁎⋆☽♡☾⋆⁎⋆✽✽✽》°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The furious stopping of shoes dividated my attention from reminiscing about the past, though it didn't bother the ruby eyed man next to me. The door slammed open to reveal a familiar face.

“Listen up, Senku! (y/n)” Taiju yelled

“I've made up my mind, I'm going to confess the feelings I've had for Yuzuriha for the past five years!”

Senku finally stopped from what he was doing to answer Taiju

“Wow fascinating” he looked up “I can’t leave the lab right now but I promise to cheer you on so vociferously that my vocal cords will snap”

Wow I thought. Not one millimeter of interest. Poor Taiju. “I'll cheer for you too man, I can't wait to hear the good news” 

“Awesome! you guys really mean it!” He beamed which made me feel more guilty for him. I guess I’ll cheer for him more to cover for Senku’s portion.

“No you big oaf I wont project my voice even one millimeter for your cause”

“What?! Come on man”

“Don't worry Taiju I’ll cheer for the both of us” I patted him on the back

“Thanks (y/n) you're the best!” He gave me a hug that zapped the air outta my lungs

“Hey put her down! You're suffocating her!” Senku grumbled before reaching underneath his desk that we’ve been using for his most recent experiment

“Look, you've felt this way for five years but never said anything I can't praise such illogical behavior”

“You find every normal human behavior illogical Senku” I retorted

“Yeah yeah yeah anyways I can give you something logical as hell” He pulled out a flash with a clear liquid inside. I reconciled what was in it and gave Senku a look of confusion. In turn he gave me his signature smirk that he uses whenever he's up to something.

“I've developed this drug as a kind of ‘love potion’ it maxes out your pheromone levels granting you a 10 billion percent chance of winning her heart”

Bullcrap I thought. But let the show continue. Taiju looked at the flask pensively. For a second I thought that he was going to actually use it. But in the end he poured it out into the sink. “Thanks but no thanks Senku I gotta do this my way!” He left the room with a newfound resolution. 

“Did you do that on purpose so that he wouldn’t freak out mid confession like he has done before” I whispered into Senku’s ear

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Doll”

“Stop calling me that!” I punched his arm slightly.

“Now why should I?” he smirked

The four of us: Senku, Taiju,Yuzuriha, and I have reached highschool. Our days of playing around with small scientific experiments are behind us and now. Senku and I are focusing on other experiments that are a lot more complex from what we used to do as kids. Though it’ll never beat the rocket we launched in middle school. But all of our medium experiments have one thing in common, and that's for the big rocket Senku is going to use to fly to space. Besides that there are other things that remain the same, for one, our nicknames. 

Senku still calls me ‘creepy doll’ or doll for short. Still calls Taiju a big olaf, and yuzuriha her name. I call Senku a multitude of names ‘lettuce head’ and ‘genius’ are among them. I call Taiju ��sweet pea' because he just is, and I call yuzuriha, Zuri!

I personally hate it when Senku calls me ‘doll’. It feels strange to hear him say that but I'll never admit that to him. He’ll never let that go.

“woah! Are you serious, you made a love potion!” One of the other clubs members asked

“I think we all know who its for” Another jested

“Shhh shut up dude” a third tried to shut his friend up

“What?” I questioned the two club members

“Come on, use your brain” Senku interrupted the threw a lit up match. “Its gasoline, (y/n) and I simply refined it from plastic bottle caps, consider the molecular structure of polyethylene.

“It's basically just like a long gasoline molecule minus a few hydrocarbons” I added

“And that's 10 billion points for (y/n)”

“Yeah but if Taiju really drank that wouldn't it have killed him” A club member asked

“No Taiju isn’t like that, he doesn't like to cheat when it comes to things like this” I started to reassemble the mechanism that had fallen earlier

“Besides the odds of him drinking were 10 billion to one, he's dumb but too straitlaced” Senku added. “Do you want anything from the vending machine doll?”

“Just water.” Lately Ive been gaining weight which isn't something to be concerned about except now I can see it actually affecting my body. I gotta cut the soda for now. All I heard was a simple hum of affirmation then he left the room. 

(a/n) what's yall’s favorite drink? I have a specific order, water and mango juice are equals and then Mountain Dew

“Sooo~ (y/n) you and Senku?”

“What about us?” I looked up at them

“He never treats us like that! Are you sure that you don't have anything between you guys!”

“Well if you actually properly assist him then i'm sure he’ll treat you the same way” I pointed the screwdriver that was in my hand at him. The door opened to see Senku carrying two drinks, a water bottle and a can that was most likely his. “That was fast” I said

“What's going on?” He looked at the crowd that was around me and the machine

“They’re just asking about our machine” I lied

“Guys Taiju is there!” a club member yelled, which soon made everyone crowd the windows.

“A hundred yen says he gets rejected.”

“Three hundred yen says he gets rejected hard.”

“Five hundred yen says he gets rejected at full power”

“Ten thousand yen says he actually doesn't” Senku interrupted cracking his can

“Seriously?” They asked

“I'll do you one better I’ll triple that” I took a sip from my water

“No fair! you have the money to gam-huh” senku paused which was uncharacteristic of him 

“Huh What what's wrong-” I turned to see a glow of green light from the sky “what the-”

“Quickly-” His voice got cut off and so did my sight. I was trapped, in my own body nonetheless. 

It was a quiet prison, which were the two things I hated. So instead I used my memories to rewatch shows I watched before and re-read books that I read…yeah I didn’t spend my time in solitude wisely.

I wish I knew that this was going to happen. I would've called up Daniel and told him that I love him for one last time instead of leaving him with a negative memory of an argument. At some point I trailed away from the shows, books, and regrets into my personal memories.

First thought of Zuri. She was a breath of fresh air compared to the rowdy boys we were friends with. I wondered if she accepted Taiju’s confession. She most likely did as she too likes him back. She and I would spend time in the kitchen, our school's home ec class, her house, or the crafts club. I would teach her about all the cute and creative things to cook up and she would teach me about arts and crafts. 

Though it was me spewing random facts and about the history or creations that she was trying to have me do. Our friend group would usually have lunch together on top of the roof of our school. If Zuri and I had cooked earlier, we would have made boys some bento boxes. Zuri made Taiju’s and I made Senku’s. Everytime Taiju received one he would scream that he would savor every last bit of food before eating. It was a cute declaration but so obvious towards his feelings for her that it made me question why she didn’t know earlier.

I soon thought of the ramen that senku’s dad treated me to. I recall Byakuya and the moments where he was acting silly. All in all he was a nice man who treated me like his daughter. Up until he shot up to space he often joked that I was his daughter-in-law, but Senku would shut him up every time.

I’d laugh it off every time. But there was an odd feeling that hung over me, a feeling that I couldn’t quite understand. I considered myself to be emotionally intelligent so not knowing what it had truly angered me.

.

.

.

Oh dear…

I like Senku!

When? how? What? For how long? Did other people notice? Or am I just stupid?

Great (y/n) what a way to finger out your feelings. If I could cry I would have right about now

Dear moon,

I know you can’t hear me but please tell me. How do I get over this? Because I know, Senku would never return my feelings. I don't wanna lose our friendship over some stupid emotion.

Next>

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Okay 3 things

1. I was thinking about an aroace Sonic who says things that can be taken as wildly flirty/romantic but he just means them genuinely. “You have beautiful eyes, I keep getting distracted while looking at them,” not cause he’s interested romantically in them but because eyes can be really cool and pretty man I dunno what to tell you he likes looking at cool things and he thinks his friends are neat. “You’re the most beautiful person here,” because he really thinks that, he loves his friends

2. Sonic randomly dropping heartfelt genuine comments on his friends out of the blue completely blindsiding them and then moves on like nothing happened while they’re left going ?????? Bonus points if he does something immensely stupid or jerkish just before or immediately afterwards and they can’t tell if he was serious or not with the compliment (yes he was)

3. Sonic usually being so allergic to truly vulnerable moments that when he expresses something heartfelt randomly Tails thinks he’s been stabbed or something and does not believe him when he reassures him that he’s fine he’s fine he’s not dying yeesh

[yeonban]

I was thinking there aren't enough memes catered to third parties on this site (ex. two muses talking about a third) which imo make rp flow so much smoother sometimes bc it feels more realistic for interactions to not start & end at only the two people directly involved, but then I realized... blud, you have a meme sideblog. You can literally make your own dreams come true

[magnusmodig]

ovo whispers menacingly abt his grandstanding .

[abyssembraced]

so for that meme. ghost reaching the abyss for the first time.

Send me a quote/scene from my muse’s canon, and I'll explain what went through their head during it! (Accepting!)

The door before them crumbled into particles of light. With the mark of King seared into them, no secrets could remain sealed.

A platform ahead, ending in open air. They stepped onto it. Cold metal, unlike the fossils and stone that preceded it. They looked down.

Dark. Their pale shell the only illumination offered. Deep. Couldn't see the bottom.

A calling, below.

They descended.

Platform to platform. Into the depths. Pits of spikes. Broken shells of fallen bugs. Shadow Creepers crawling about (harmless. Source of SOUL if necessary). Corpses increasing in number.

...Familiar.

They've been here before. But when? They didn't know. Yet the calling in their core persisted. They continued on.

Misjudged distance. Missed the next platform. Desperate flutter of wings. Reaching out with claw. Missed. Falling. Familiar.

Impact with ground. Floor of shells. Rise. Careful not to stumble. Familiar.

A shadow emerged from the depths. Living darkness took shape into a creature.

Familiar. Familiar.

So, so familiar. They knew this being, this darkness. Why this was, they did not know (could not recall?), yet it was an undeniable fact, the truth of which they felt with utmost certainty. This being and them, they were... Alike.

There was a word to be used. They did not know it.

They had felt like this once before, had they not? That broken, Infected vessel of Lightseeds had evoked a similar sensation of Alikeness. Albeit lesser, far lesser, than what they felt toward the shadow before them now. Obscured by the Infection back then, perhaps, or for some other reason.

They stood still, watching, as the other, in turn, took proper notice of them. As it floated toward them, drawing ever closer.

PAIN.

An explosion upon their shell, their insides, their mind. Emotions transferred to them from the Alike. Feelings of... Bad. They did not know the words.

Enemy. Danger. Fight back.

The fighting stopped. The being's form split apart by their blade, curling into an orb of shadow once more. Returning to the earth.

Silence.

...

Their nail is returned to their back.

A calling, below. Deeper. Yet there was no distance left to fall. Perhaps, if they pressed onward, some tunnels would lead them further down.

They continued on.

[shadowedmagic]

thought about maxlie. Felt things. You may see me on the news as consequence

[neros-left-pec]

playing infinity nikki with nero/dante/vergil

🥀 pairings: nero x fem!reader, dante x fem!reader, vergil x fem!reader

🥀 summary: headcanons for how this cute trio would react to you getting super into infinity nikki

🥀 warnings/tags: just fluff + probably OOC

🥀 author's note: i have really bad dmc brainrot but ive never even played the games (don't ask how this happened) LOL. i kinda see these as crack hcs since im not actually familiar with their canon personalities but i hope u can enjoy it regardless!

nero

you've been gone for a huge part of the day, so he starts looking around devil may cry for you. he finds you at your desktop looking VERY engrossed with what you're doing

doing his best to not alert you, he sneaks up behind you. it seems a cute video game has caught your attention, and you're playing dress-up...?

"Wait, each power lets her use a new dress? How does she change so fast?"

thinks it's ridiculous at first, but similar to Vergil he gets weirdly addicted to helping you pick the best scoring combinations

unlike Vergil, he is not very good at it. but he will try his best

"Okay okay, go with the lace gloves, TRUST ME. It's tagged as elegance which is what you need."

like dante, he is convinced he knows what he's talking about, but definitely gets pissed every time his outfits don't work out

"What the fuck, this is impossible! I thought this game was for babies!"

no nero, this game is not for babies. you need to lock in.

one day, you surprise him by coming home in an outfit eerily similar to one he had made for you in the game last week.

gets very visibly flustered when he sees you model it.

it suits you incredibly well and is very tailored to his tastes, since, well, he was the one who made the outfit after all!

he saves up a bit of money and takes you on a shopping spree. he must see you in more outfits

YOU GUYS ARE PLAYING DRESS TO IMPRESS IRL!!!!!

side note but i feel like he would go crazy if he saw you wearing black high heels. he loves black on you

dante

"So it's like dress-up... but with boss fights? Kinda kickass if you ask me."

he tries to help you pick an outfit but always makes the WORST combinations EVER. the outfits colors never match and he makes you wear ugly boots with a pretty dress or something lol

is convinced he is a master fashion designer

"Look at me, I'm adorable as hell!"

not really too interested in the game itself but he likes seeing how into it you get. you get very invested in the story and he finds it adorable. you have a simple heart and he loves you for it

asks you to show off your outfits

"C'mon, spin around. Pose for me, dear! ...Oh yeah that's very nice, I quite like it honestly. You've got some talent, huh?"

sometimes he thinks about how cute you would look in pastels and gets a bit distracted. his brows furrow, a soft blush dusting his cheeks as he hides a smile behind his hand.

with his mouth covered, it actually kinda looks like he's grimacing, which is hilarious. he'll often start daydreaming about you and get flustered. others will see him and think he's pissed off because of the tense expression. if only they knew about the big smile that was hidden behind his hand

vergil

he does not understand why you are stressing about losing a "style battle," whatever that meant

he stares at your screen with his arms crossed.

"So foolish..." FOOLISHNESS, Y/N. FOOLISHNESS----

watches silently. secretly enjoys watching you get worked up over something so silly

you ask him for styling advice and using the clothing stats, builds you the most min-maxxed outfit for the style battles. quickly learned the numbers have to do with if you win or not. however, he somehow manages to make them also look gorgeous at the same time (IF YOU PLAY INFINITY NIKKI YOU KNOW HOW HARD THIS IS). he does it to make you happy since you hate ugly outfits

after a while, he gets kinda into it

"No, that shade of mauve does not go with the rest of the outfit... Even the most untrained eye would know that a lady's shoes must match with her bag."

YOU STARE AT HIM....

he looks to the side and walks away.

damn him!

secretly makes a note to buy you a cute ensemble to wear to your next date

he will get rid of the price tags and fold them into your drawers so you happen across them

he will never admit he bought it but you know it was him

and of course, he buys you a bag with matching flats/heels depending on your preference :)

[letstrywritingmaybe]

I’m so pro fic authors that I get real annoyed when I see a shit comment. It always makes me want to double down and write a similar fic in solidarity. I’m obviously really picky and hate a lot of things, but I don’t go criticizing in the comments. I exit the fic like a normal person and move on, cause that fic wasn’t written for me and that’s okay. I just don’t understand why this is such a difficult concept to people. The world doesn’t revolve around you, fics sure as hell don’t cater to you. Write your own and stop being an asshole

[sttoru]

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the ryomen sukuna has never in his thousand years of living apologised to any living being. so why does he feel the need to make it up to you after (unintentionally) hurting you?

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort), suggestive. sukuna is an asshole but also not i guess. a little bit ooc. reader gets called ‘brat, woman’. not proofread. wc: 1.8k

sukuna has never felt the need to apologize. he’s never in the wrong if you ask him. apologising to someone he deems ‘lesser’ would be a sign of weakness.

yet the king of curses always has this secret need to make his favorite concubine feel better after (unintentionally) hurting her. you’ve got this hold on him that he will never acknowledge. although there are moments where he will indirectly show you that he regrets upsetting you.

it’s a quiet saturday evening and you’re relaxing in your bedchambers after eating your dinner. you didn’t go to the dining hall to eat with sukuna and the others. no, you made sure your head lady-in-waiting brought your food to your room.

sukuna and you got into a ‘little’ argument yesterday. you both spent the entire day and night alone instead of in each other’s presence, which is the norm. even the people around you have noticed the growing tension whenever sukuna and you would cross paths.

of course, the other concubines seized the opporunity to vie for sukuna’s attention now that his favored little concubine was no longer by his side. yet, their efforts proved in vain. sukuna had grown more irritable over the past twenty-four hours, his mind relentlessly preoccupied with thoughts of you—a fact that only frustrated him further. you weren't in the mood to speak with him again, so why did that bother him so much? It should have made him scoff, made him see you as weak and driven him to demand that you speak to him once more.

but all the king of curses can think about is how to get you to cling to him once more. as much as he says that it’s exhausting to have a needy 'brat' at his side all the time, your abscence makes him realise he secretly enjoys having you around.

snapping back into your own thoughts, you realise you’ve been staring at your cup of tea for the longest time. you sigh and get up from the table, your feet dragging over the tatami flooring. however a sudden knock on your doors causes you to stop in your tracks.

“come in,” you murmur, thinking it is one of your ladies-in-waiting with your dessert. but the silence that follows afterwards is nearly ominous.

you frown and sigh before going over to the shoji. you slide the screens aside, only to be met by a wall of muscles you know way too well. you tilt your head back and your eyes widen slightly at the sight of the one man you stubbornly refused to talk to.

sukuna looms over you, his massive frame dwarfing your smaller one. he invites himself inside, not waiting on a response from you. he steps into your room and turns around to face you. his dark red eyes narrow as he tries to decipher the emotions playing on your face.

you don’t say a thing. you don’t look at him. you don’t smile at him. you don’t move a muscle. no acknowledgment at all. sukuna hates it—it’s unusual for you to be so cold. your eyes dart to the floor and your bottom lip subtly forms a defiant pout.

sukuna scoffs. he’s made the decision to break the silence between you two first, coming all the way to your bedchambers to talk. he would never have done such a thing for anyone else—would have waited for them to grovel before him and beg for his forgiveness. and yet here he is, standing in front of his concubine, ready to confront the issues between them.

he feels pathetic and it angers him from within. he desires to command you to get on your knees and apologise to him, to obey him and forget what happened. however an annoying voice in the back of his head tells him to be patient with you.

“tch, what’s with the face?” sukuna's deep and commanding voice fills the spacious room. he doesn't go about it the gentle way—he’s still him after all. “y’re still sulking about that little thing? i thought i told ya to stop thinkin’ about it.”

hearing sukuna say the latter makes your heart ache and your eyes water from frustration. everything seems like it’s not a big deal to him—even when you’re clearly upset.

“that was not just a little thing, my lord!” you raise your voice just a little, surprising yourself as the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. you swallow thickly and bite your lip. you've done it now, the thought echoes inside your head.

sukuna’s eyebrows raise in surprise at your outburst, not used to you raising your voice to him like that. although in an instant, his eyes flash with something dangerous. you may be his favorite and he may let you get away with a lot of things, yet there are boundaries. rules that even you must obey.

the king of curses would probably find it amusing to see you snap back at him, thinking you will achieve something with that, but today is not one of those days. the shimmering tension between you two has lead to him being more agitated than ever.

sukuna closes the distance between you two and reaches out to grab you by our jaw. his fingers curl tightly beneath your chin and force your head to turn, making you face him.

“you dare raise your voice at me, woman?” sukuna growls, his face mere inches from yours. his grip borders on painful and you wince at the ache in your jaw. he doesn’t let go and instead tightens his hold, “i don't have time for this fuckin' nonsense.”

sukuna releases you with a light shove. he takes a deep breath to try and calm down, to remind himself that he came her to clear things up. but it’s difficult because he’s never had to do this before. never had to listen to someone else, always expecting them to simply endure and move on whenever he caused harm.

you stumble a bit, rubbing at the your chin. you don’t get it; is sukuna here to make it worse for you? to rub it in? to remind you again of what he said to upset you? to make fun of you for being upset about it?

it certainly does hurt. you replay that moment again in your head. the moment when sukuna told you he could replace you with someone else whenever he desires. it is a fact. sukuna can do that whenever he pleases. but it stung to hear him say it so explicitly. to hear him say it to your face, as if that doesn't already keep you awake at night.

little did you know, sukuna didn’t mean to hurt you too much with that comment. he didn’t expect you to ignore him, to avoid him, all because of what he said. he simply said it because he was struggling with his own emotions—denying that he feels anything for you. he said it to remind himself that he isn’t getting attached to a human.

but that failed terribly. seeing you like this—your teary eyes glaring up at him with fear, hurt and betrayal made him feel an uncomfortable pang in his chest. something that resembled guilt.

“have a good night then, my lord,” you dismiss sukuna and turn away, your voice strained with emotion. you don’t want to start another argument with him.

the king of curses grits his teeth. there it goes again. ‘my lord’ — yes, it’s what most others call him, but not you. you always called him by nicknames he deemed foolish. ‘kuna, ryo or even dear. he strangely longs to hear your voice call him as such again.

sukuna stands there, trying to reign in his anger and other overwhelming emotions. he grabs your wrist and tugs you back to him, making you stumble and catch yourself against his chiseled chest.

he doesn’t know what to say—doesn’t trust himself to speak. he knows he’ll make it worse by speaking, knows he’ll rile you up even more. thus he chooses not to utter a word for a moment.

your eyes meet and you’re surprised when sukuna leans down to catch your lips in a kiss. your hands fist into the collar of his kimono, your mind telling you to back off. this man is dangerous—playing with your emotions like this.

telling you one thing, but contradicting himself with his actions. it’s extremely confusing yet also exhilarating.

you close your eyes and respond to his kiss with equal fervor. the pink-haired man groans against your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip before biting on it. a habit of his.

sukuna’s large hands roam over your body as he presses you as close to him as possible. it’s like he’s reassuring you with his touch—melting away all your worries. it’s a manipulative tactic that somehow always gets you. or perhaps it’s just his way of apologising.

which of the two it is, will always be vague and unknown.

eventually, he pulls away, leaving you both breathless. you stare up at him with a huff before glancing the other way. you’re still sulking, still pouting.

sukuna rolls his eyes and easily lifts your body up into his arms. two of his hands settle on the back of your thighs, the other two grazing the side of your breast and waist. he carries you over to your bed and sits on the edge with you on his lap.

“y’re a fool,” sukuna clicks his tongue. his fingers slither up the exposed skin of your arm and against your cheek to flick your forehead. he gains a whimper from you which urges him to do it again.

you frown and rub at the tingly skin on your head. your eyes are still watery, lashes clumped together due to your tears. it’s almost cute. almost. “and you look pathetic,” the man in front of you adds with a condescending smirk.

you weakly smack sukuna’s chest, making his grin widen. there you go—there is the woman he knows, slowly making a comeback. slowly warming up to him again. slowly being playful with him once more.

sukuna sighs. to you, it may seem like a tired sigh, but in reality it’s a sigh of relief. he may not have solved this issue between you two in a normal, healthy way, but it worked out anyway.

“you’re mean,” your comment breaks the moment of silence. your bottom lip trembles and you look like you might just cry it all out. the frustration, the fear, the hurt, the relief—it’s overwhelming.

sukuna inhales briefly. he doesn’t respond to your little remark, instead, he holds the back of your head and presses your face into his chest. he holds your body against him, nestled warmly between his muscular arms.

you don’t protest at all. you close your eyes and breathe in his familiar scent, nuzzling your nose into his pecs. you know this is his way of making you feel betted so you will not complain.

an apology will never leave the prideful man's lips and you’ve come to accept it. this way of reassuring you counts as something at the very least.

it doesn’t matter who or what gets between you two, at the end of the day, you’ll find each other again. one way or another.

and that's all you need.

[areislol]

a hardworker

pairings. blade, jing yuan, gepard, aventurine, sunday, dr ratio, argenti, boothill, phainon, mydei x gn! reader

warnings. office job! au, reverse harem, slightly suggestive for some, fluff, use of brainrot, use of y/n but mainly [your name] etc, mydei and phainon MIGHT be ooc. 3.0 hsr story quest spoiler (quote) for mydei

a/n. when will i see all these handsome men in a corporate/office au from hoyoverse ;(

wc. 15.9-16k

blade — cold and reserved.

✧ genuinely why would you do this to yourself.. why would YOU initate a conversation with him? are you asking for him to form a friendship with you and possibly even maybe a relationship?!?!

✧ when you first got the job you were set to his level, he wasn't your mentor or anything, and at first he didn't even notice you, you seemed like a worker here just like the rest of them except you seemed too giddy. yeah you definitely haven't worked here for a couple of years.

✧ only when jing yuan, your first friend at work, introduced you to him did he first meet you.

✧ "blade! meet your new co-worker. i would've shown you them earlier but it was my duty to help them settle down and get to know everyone.. their name's y/n!"

✧ ".... hello." he greeted you (can you even call that a warm welcome?), his voice gruff and almost dead-like. maybe he was angry? you waved at him, offering a small smile. jing yuan looked at you with a smile. "blade isn't the one for talks. oh, follow me, i'll show you where the printers are."

✧ you waved goodbye to him once again before turning away and following jing yuan. blade didn't think much about that once returning to his desk and typing away on his desktop. but for some odd reason that small gesture (the wave) you gave him was stuck in his mind.

✧ he did not enjoy that very much, but as long as it didn't affect his working it didn't matter to him.

✧ after that he would see you more often, and you would always wave hello and goodbye to him even if he didn't do the same. he found your happiness quite weird and bothersome. you're in a working place, there's no room to goof around or be too happy, just focusing on work is the only thing you need to think about. (blade's a workaholic but he denies that all the time)

✧ you would spark small conversations with blade when waiting in line in the shared work cafeteria. "how was your day today?" "how's the report marking going?" "what are your thoughts on my report? i know it's too early to be asking but i'm just really nervous you know... oh! and-" sigh.

✧ just a simple yet deep sigh said more than enough to you. and you immediately shut your lips, thinking that you were irritating him too much (truth was you kind of were, all he wanted to do was eat and get back to work but don't worry, he warms up to you sooner or later!) and he obviously notices this.

✧ yet another deep and low sigh. "i'll listen to you once we are seated down." ?!?! "wait! you mean.. you're invititing me to sit with you?" you beamed, you're forming a friendship with your co-worker after all! "don't get the wrong idea.. i just don't want to waste time standing here and not get my food."

✧ oh but you definitely got the wrong idea. not that it mattered to you though. after that whole day and the many days that were to come people were looking at the both of you weird. (the fact that blade ate alone, not when he was with his other co-workers like kafka or silverwolf was a bit sad to you but he didn't seem to mind)

✧ "blade's eating with someone? wow." "never in my life would i ever think that he would ever invite someone to eat with him!" "do you think he's crushing?" you tried your best to ignore those comments, focusing on the food instead.

✧ "don't worry too much about the comments. if it really bothers you i can go talk to them. i'd rather sit in no awkwardness whatsoever than awkwardness."

✧ blade knows how much those gossips and rumours can have a toll on their position, if word ever got out (WITH PROOF) that two co-workers, or worse, worker and manager were sleeping together or anything related with relationships they'd for sure be fired.

✧ and he would risk it all to make sure that he still had his job. as well as yours of course.

✧ the two of you would grow closer, closer to the point that he would even buy you your favourite drink in the morning before you arrived (yes, he wakes up extra early to buy some snacks for you too), when kafka asks why, he shrugs. "i don't know, i have time."

✧ !!! he helps you with overnight work, if you have to stay overtime, willingly or unwillingly he will ALWAYS be with you. no matter how much you protest that he go home and rest he would always win the argument and stay with you. besides, that just means he gets to spend time with you without anyone pestering him!

✧ there are times that you would fall asleep during work. if it was during the day to afternoon he would quickly tap you on your shoulder and walk away like he totally didn't just make you jump from your seat as you look left and right, dazed and confused.

✧ how cute...

✧ you proudly stated that he has now "been promoted to being my best friend", blade only rolled his eyes and looked away, pretending not to care. but you knew that he cared, quite hard to not notice the faint smile growing on his lips after all.

✧ everyone notices how different blade had become after meeting you. although still non-chalant to others he seems to be more happier and enlightened when you're with him. no one dares say a word about it though thanks to his intimidation.

✧ speaking about how scary he looks, he was quite surprised that you didn't mind how introverted and "scary" he was, if anything you'd laugh and say how he was so "hilarious" ?!?! what's so hiliarious about the way i talk and look?!!? but nonetheless, you seemed to have broken a small amount of his barrier.

✧ always gives his close friends death glares when they're about to mention something about him to you. "oh yeah, i remember that one time bladie said that you were-....oh, seems like somebody wants me to be quiet, nevermind it then." anod no matter how hard you try to bribe her to spill it, she refuses. saying that "you will know one day" ... whatever that means.

✧ not to mention how oblivious you are to his actions. oh, he remembered your favourite meals of the day? isn't he such a lovely friend! he has a whole notes dedicated to everything i've said before—my likes and dislikes, places i'd like to visit, my favourite restaurant, my favourite animal, my favourite thing to do at work.. and etc etc? he's just so observant! a quality you need in this work place.

✧ it drives kafka and silverwolf mad sometimes, really.

✧ he's really protective of you, and he knows you can stick up for yourself but he feels the need to protect you anyway. blade always sticks up to you if someone from the higher positions pick on you, even if he's the same position as you. gosh, you really admire him so much!

✧ "are you alright? they didn't do anything to you, did they?" his eyes scanned your face and body, making sure you were fine. "i'm fine blade, but wow! seeing you like that is so cool! and i actually saw them shiver and..." blade never questions why you talk to much (lies, he has before in the past but now he just sighs and pretends to ignore you but really he's listening to every word.)

✧ sometimes invites you out for a drinking celebration. oh you don't drink! drink water there then. you can't go? fine, he'll just reschedule it then.

✧ although he acts all tough and that he hates you, in reality, he really likes you. when did the feelings come? probably when you really paid attention to him and just continued to talk to him every. single. day. sure, he was annoyed for the most part. but as time flew, he grew closer to you. and he hated the fact that he couldn't say anything about it. he couldn't risk getting him or you fired.

✧ as blade gets to know you better, he finds himself admiring your strength and he begins to see them not just as a coworker, but as someone he genuinely enjoys spending time with, someone he looks forward to seeing every day.

✧ (is he cooked? yes. does he care? no.)

✧ he often finds himself glancing at you as you're working, doesn't help that your desk is right in front of you as you share a desk. and god, everytime your manager pairs you and him together in a duo project or even in a group project he will never EVER disagree with your ideas. even if you might be a wee bit wrong about your ideas.

✧ everyone notices how bias he is towards you, does he care? no, if anything they're just jealous that he loves you and not them!

✧ (can i also mention when he refused to unbraid a small section of his hair that you braided?)

✧ but once the realisation catches up to him that damn, he really does like you, it changes his whole personality and perspective on you and his life. now that he's conscious he can't ever stop the way his heart flutters and races 100x faster, he can only hope that you don't notice the delicate pink hue rushing to his cheeks.

✧ "do you have a fever?" "yes." "oh.. feel better then! don't come to work or you might get me sick!" you joked, turning your back towards him as you continued to chat with your friends. if only you knew...

✧ if only you knew how infatuated he was with you. how in love he was with you. and the fact that he knows that there are other people crushing on you too, although he can't blame them, it's infuriating having to compete for your love and attention.

✧ one day he'll confess, and when he does he knows he won't care if the both of you get fired, he has enough money and connections to build a new and better company.

jing yuan — big ol' softie

✧ the first guy to actually crush on you. love at first sight at its finest.

✧ jing yuan finds himself drawn to you for several reasons. firstly, he admires your intelligence and work ethic. your always diligent and thorough in your work, he is attracted to those who work hard after all as he too, is a hardworker. not only that but he appreciates their kindness and compassion towards their coworkers, always willing to lend a helping hand or offer support when needed.

✧ it's a rarity to even find a co-worker who is actually kind and not just doing it to get a raise so, to him, you're a one of a kind.

✧ it's really no surprise that he was assigned to help you out during the first month to keep you steady as that's usually his favourite thing to do and with no one else offering to take this position the boss obviously had no choice but to make jing yuan have a mini side job.

✧ jing yuan is the first person to befriend you when you join the company, and it’s hard not to be drawn to his calm, approachable demeanor. you later learn that while he has a reputation for being incredibly competent, he also tends to “forget” small tasks, like refilling the coffee machine, leaving others to wonder how he manages to get away with it.

✧ you quickly become the exception to that rule. jing yuan, who usually delegates or “forgets,” is surprisingly attentive when it comes to you. need advice on an overly complex report? he’s already simplifying it for you. stuck on the company’s labyrinthine processes? he walks you through them patiently, occasionally cracking a joke to ease your nerves.

✧ “ah, the new recruit,” he says, leaning casually against your desk. “looks like they’ve put you near my territory. lucky you.” you laugh nervously, not sure if he’s joking, but his easy tone makes you feel less like the ‘newbie’ everyone’s been whispering about.

✧ you’re quick to bombard him with questions—everything from “how do you access the shared drive?” to “do people really have to clock in at 9:00 on the dot?” he answers every one of them with a mixture of patience and amusement. “no, you won’t get fired if you clock in at 9:01. but, you know, maybe don’t make it a habit,” he teases, smirking when you dramatically sigh in relief.

✧ your enthusiasm doesn’t seem to faze him. in fact, jing yuan seems oddly entertained by it. “you’re really diving into this, huh?” he comments one afternoon after you’ve spent ten minutes animatedly talking about ideas for an upcoming project. “i like it. keep that energy up. it’s refreshing.”

✧ during your first team meeting, you’re the one nervously jotting down notes while everyone else looks half-asleep. jing yuan catches your eye and mouths, “relax.” later, when you mention how intimidating some of the senior staff seem, he chuckles. “trust me, they’re all bark and no bite. well, most of them,” he adds with a wink, making you giggle.

✧ you’re eager to prove yourself, and it doesn’t take long for jing yuan to notice. one evening, he finds you still at your desk long after most people have left. “burning the midnight oil already?” he asks, resting an elbow on the cubicle wall. “you know, you don’t have to impress anyone by working yourself to death.” you smile sheepishly. “i just want to get it right.” his gaze softens. “you will. but pace yourself, alright? it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

✧ your bubbly nature sometimes catches him off guard. one day, after explaining a particularly tedious workflow to you, you beam at him and say, “thanks, jing yuan! i don’t know what i’d do without you!” he blinks, momentarily stunned, before responding with a soft laugh. “well, i can’t have my star pupil struggling, can i?”

✧ when you suggest grabbing coffee as a thank-you for his help, he raises an eyebrow. “you’re thanking me for doing my job?” you nod enthusiastically, and he shakes his head, amused. “alright, but only if you let me pick the place. i know a spot that has the best pastries.” true to his word, the café he takes you to becomes your go-to hangout, with jing yuan jokingly claiming you owe him for introducing you to such “top-tier coffee.”

✧ one day, as you’re working through a tricky task, you mutter, “ugh, i feel so bad having to ask you for help again.” jing yuan leans over your desk, resting his chin in his hand. “you know, you’re the only person i don’t mind helping. must be that irresistible charm of yours,” he says with a grin. you roll your eyes playfully, but your cheeks warm at the compliment.

✧ while your coworkers are quick to brush off office rumors, they don’t miss how jing yuan lingers at your desk longer than necessary. he’s always "checking in" on how you're adjusting to the job, yet somehow, you notice he’s not quite this attentive with others. a little too friendly, perhaps?

✧ it’s no surprise to you that he was assigned to mentor you during your first month. jing yuan has a knack for making newcomers feel at ease, but there’s something different in the way he handles your concerns. he listens intently, offers solutions tailored to you, and follows up—something even HR doesn’t always do.

✧ what you don’t realise is that the moment jing yuan met you, he found himself curious about the way you carried yourself. your mix of determination and a slight hint of nervous energy intrigued him. he admired your persistence when others might have faltered under the pressure of a new job.

✧ despite his effortless charm, you’re oblivious to the subtle shifts in his behavior. jing yuan often uses work as an excuse to spend time with you. "this project is pretty important," he says, dragging over a chair and sitting beside you, "mind if i double-check it with you?" you don’t notice the way his lips twitch into a smile every time you nod eagerly.

✧ somewhere along the line, jing yuan finds himself going out of his way for you. it starts small—a coffee cup on your desk when he notices you didn’t get breakfast, an offer to review your presentation slides when you’re up against a deadline. before long, he’s scheduling lunch meetings just to hear about your day.

✧ his easygoing nature becomes a source of comfort for you. whenever office drama or work stress gets overwhelming, jing yuan’s the one who steps in, distracting you with his laid-back humour or a casual, “don’t let it get to you. you’re doing great, really.”

✧ over time, you realise he’s not just your mentor but also your anchor in the chaotic world of corporate life. what you don’t know is that he’s quietly hoping you’ll notice he’s looking out for you for reasons that go far beyond professional courtesy.

✧ slowly but surely, your dynamic shifts. you’re still the bubbly, eager-to-learn newbie, but now you feel a little braver, knowing jing yuan has your back. and though he’ll never admit it outright, he finds himself looking forward to your questions, your chatter, and the way you light up the office with your energy. if he’s a little extra attentive with you, well… that’s just part of being a good mentor. right?

gepard — sweet and protective

✧ gepard is the picture-perfect coworker: diligent, reliable, and polite to a fault. when you first meet him, you’re struck by how serious he seems, his posture impossibly straight as he shakes your hand and welcomes you to the team. “if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask,” he says with a formal nod. you’re convinced he’s all business—until you catch him fumbling with his coffee cup later, spilling just enough to make him flush bright red.

✧ you’re quick to ask him questions about the company, your tasks, and even the cafeteria menu. “what’s the safest option for lunch?” you ask with a dramatic whisper. he blinks at you, a little thrown by your energy, before responding earnestly. “i… guess the chicken wraps? but i think the soup is underrated.” you burst into laughter, and the corner of his mouth quirks up, like he’s not used to this kind of enthusiasm but doesn’t entirely mind it.

✧ despite his composed exterior, gepard always seems to hover near your desk, especially when you’re struggling. one afternoon, as you stare at a particularly confusing spreadsheet, he appears with a quiet, “do you need help with that?” you nod gratefully, and he spends the next half hour walking you through every detail, his voice calm and reassuring. “you’re actually really good at explaining this stuff,” you tell him, smiling. his ears turn pink. “i-it’s nothing, really.”

✧ you notice how seriously he takes his role in the office. whenever something goes wrong—an error in a report, a system crash—gepard is the first to step in and fix it, even if it’s not his responsibility. “you’re like the office knight in shining armor,” you joke one day. he looks embarrassed but manages a small smile. “i just want to make sure everything runs smoothly. it’s… important to me.”

✧ your bubbly personality catches him off guard more often than not. once, during a team lunch, you’re chattering about a funny story from your weekend, and he’s so focused on listening that he almost forgets to eat. “gepard, are you okay?” you ask, noticing his untouched plate. he snaps out of it, flustered. “y-yeah! i was just… um, distracted.” you tilt your head, confused, while your other coworkers (AHEM blade) stare at the poor man, absolutely fuming.

✧ gepard is protective of you in the sweetest way. when he overhears someone being a little too critical of your work, he’s quick to step in with a firm but polite, “actually, i think they’ve been doing an excellent job.” later, you thank him, and he brushes it off. “you deserve the credit,” he says simply, but the way he avoids your gaze suggests there’s more to it than that.

✧ you once offered to grab coffee for the team, only for gepard to insist on going with you. “it’s not safe to carry that many cups alone,” he explains, dead serious. you can’t help but laugh. “gepard, it’s just coffee.” “still,” he replies, already holding the door open for you.

✧ over time, you start to notice the little things he does for you. like how he always saves you a seat in meetings, or how he’s quick to hand you an umbrella on rainy days without you even asking. when you tease him about being overprotective, he stammers, “i’m just looking out for you!” but the faint smile on his face gives him away.

✧ you’ve quickly become the sunshine to his steady presence, and though he’d never admit it, gepard finds your energy infectious. you make the office feel a little brighter, and if he’s a little more eager to help you than anyone else, well, that’s just part of being a good coworker. right?

✧ gepard is the embodiment of dependability in the workplace, and it shows in the way he’s always ready to step in and help you, no matter how small or big the problem. the first time the office printer acts up on you, he’s at your side almost instantly. “it’s been temperamental lately,” he says, rolling up his sleeves like he’s about to go into battle. after a few moments of fiddling, the printer finally whirs back to life. “you saved me!” you exclaim, clasping your hands together in gratitude. he chuckles softly, his cheeks tinged pink. “it’s nothing. really.”

✧ then there was the time you accidentally printed 100 copies instead of 10, and the sound of endless paper spewing from the machine had you frozen in horror. before you could panic, gepard was already by your side. “don’t worry, we’ll fix it,” he said reassuringly, diving in to cancel the job. when that didn’t work, he started stacking the printed pages into neat piles with a calm efficiency that made you wonder if he’d done this before. “i’ll help you sort these later,” he added, his tone as steady as ever.

✧ he seems to have a radar for when you’re in over your head. one afternoon, as you’re juggling a coffee in one hand and a precariously tall stack of files in the other, gepard appears out of nowhere. “here, let me,” he says, gently taking the files from you before you can protest. “you shouldn’t have to carry all this by yourself.” you laugh, trying to lighten the moment. “what would i do without you?” he smiles softly, looking down at the files. “hopefully, we won’t have to find out.”

✧ gepard’s helpfulness doesn’t stop at office tasks. when you mention in passing that you’re not sure how to navigate the maze of departments to get a signature, he volunteers immediately. “i know the process can be confusing. i’ll go with you,” he says, grabbing his jacket. as he leads you through the building, he chats casually about the different teams, making you feel less like a lost newbie and more like you belong.

✧ you’re not sure how he does it, but gepard always seems to know when you’re overwhelmed. once, when you were swamped with deadlines and barely had time to breathe, he showed up at your desk with a cup of tea and a small snack. “you’ve been working hard,” he said, placing them in front of you. “take a five-minute break. it’ll help.” you looked at him, wide-eyed. “you didn’t have to do this.” he smiled, a little sheepishly. “maybe not, but i wanted to.”

✧ even when it’s not his responsibility, gepard goes above and beyond to ensure your day goes smoothly. during a team presentation, you realized with dread that you’d forgotten to print one of the key slides. before you could spiral into panic, gepard leaned over and whispered, “send it to me. i’ll print it right now.” and just like that, he slipped out quietly and returned minutes later with the missing slide, handing it to you with a reassuring nod.

✧ his support isn’t just limited to big emergencies. if your chair squeaks too much, he’ll find the tools to fix it. if your computer crashes, he’s the first to suggest calling IT—right after he tries troubleshooting it himself. once, you jokingly called him your “office superhero,” and though he tried to brush it off, the faint smile on his face betrayed how much the compliment meant to him.

✧ you notice that his help always comes with kindness, never judgment. when you accidentally spilled coffee on your desk (and a little on his papers), you were mortified, apologizing profusely. but gepard just waved it off with a gentle smile. “it’s fine, really. these can be reprinted. are you okay?” he immediately helped clean up the mess, even going to grab extra napkins.

✧ over time, you start to rely on him more than you probably should, but gepard never seems to mind. “you’re always there to save me,” you say one day, half-joking. he looks at you earnestly and replies, “it’s not about saving you. i just… like being someone you can count on.” and with that, you realise that gepard’s helpfulness isn’t just part of his nature—it’s his way of showing how much he cares.

✧ gepard isn’t just the kind of coworker who’ll drop everything to help you fix a printer jam or sort out your endless copies—he’s also the first person to break the unspoken office rule about keeping things strictly professional. one friday afternoon, after a particularly gruelling week, he approaches your desk with an almost shy smile. “hey, uh… i was wondering. do you want to grab a drink after work? there’s a nice bar nearby, and i thought it might be a good way to unwind.”

✧ you blink in surprise, caught off guard. “really? like… just us?” his ears turn a little pink as he scratches the back of his neck. “yeah. if you’re okay with that, of course. no pressure.” the sheer sincerity in his voice makes it impossible to say no, and you find yourself nodding eagerly. “i’d love that!”

✧ true to his word—because of course gepard always follows through—the two of you end up at a cozy little bar just a block from the office. it’s nothing fancy, but the warm lighting and relaxed vibe immediately make you feel at ease. gepard orders a simple drink and waits patiently while you deliberate over the menu. when you finally pick something, he chuckles. “you looked more stressed about that than our last meeting.” you roll your eyes playfully. “priorities, gepard!”

✧ the first outing sets the tone for many more. every couple of weeks, one of you will casually suggest, “bar after work?” and it becomes a tradition neither of you wants to break. at first, your conversations are light—complaining about difficult clients, swapping funny stories about coworkers, and sharing tips on surviving the corporate grind. but as the outings continue, the topics grow deeper.

✧ one night, after your second round, you find yourself telling him about your dreams, your fears, and even your insecurities about fitting in at work. gepard listens intently, his drink forgotten as he leans forward, elbows resting on the table. “you don’t need to prove anything to anyone,” he says firmly. “you’re doing amazing, and anyone who doesn’t see that is blind.” his words stick with you, and you can’t help but feel grateful to have someone like him in your corner.

✧ gepard, too, opens up little by little. he shares stories about his family, his love for structure and responsibility, and the occasional self-doubt that even he experiences. “sometimes, i worry I’m too serious,” he admits one night, twirling his glass idly. you laugh, shaking your head. “serious? sure. but you’re also one of the kindest people I’ve ever met. don’t sell yourself short.” his face softens, and for a moment, you think you see a hint of vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor.

✧ your bar outings become something you both look forward to, a rare chance to let your guards down in a world that demands so much of you. you learn that gepard has a surprisingly good sense of humor—dry, but sharp—and he learns that your endless optimism isn’t just an act; it’s something you genuinely try to cultivate.

✧ one evening, as you’re both laughing over a shared memory of a particularly chaotic office event, you tease, “you know, i think these bar nights are the only reason i’ve stayed sane at work.” gepard smirks, raising his glass. “then here’s to many more.”

✧ over time, it becomes clear that these nights aren’t just about escaping work stress—they’re about the connection you’ve built. whether it’s celebrating a big win at work, venting about a bad day, or simply enjoying each other’s company, your bar outings are a reminder that amidst the chaos of corporate life, you’ve found something truly special: a dependable coworker, a trusted friend, and maybe, just maybe, the start of something more.

aventurine — the charismatic mentor

✧ when you first start at your new job, aventurine is the one everyone warns you about—not in a bad way, but with a tone that implies he’s… a lot. “you’ll know him when you see him,” one coworker says cryptically, and you don’t have to wait long to understand what they mean. he’s the kind of guy who strides into the office like he owns the place, his voice carrying over the low hum of workplace chatter as he greets everyone with a cheeky grin.

✧ the first time you meet him, he flashes you a dazzling smile and introduces himself with a confident, “aventurine—best-looking guy on this floor, and probably the most fun. you must be the new recruit?” you can’t help but laugh, instantly charmed despite his cocky demeanor. “i guess that’s me. and i’ll take your word on the ‘most fun’ part.” he winks. “oh, you’ll see soon enough.”

✧ despite his playful nature, aventurine turns out to be surprisingly helpful. when you’re struggling to make sense of a particularly confusing project, he swings by your desk and casually leans against it. “having trouble? let me guess, no one explained this properly, right?” you nod sheepishly, and he rolls his eyes. “classic. don’t worry, i’ve got you.” within minutes, he’s broken down the task into simple, manageable steps, his explanations peppered with jokes that somehow make the whole ordeal less daunting.

✧ aventurine has a knack for making you feel like you belong, even when you’re doubting yourself. “you’re doing better than i did when i first started,” he tells you one afternoon, his tone uncharacteristically sincere. “i was a mess. couldn’t even figure out the coffee machine.” you laugh, but his words stick with you, a reminder that even someone as confident as him had a learning curve.

✧ he’s also the first to pull you out of your shell during team outings. “c’mon, you’re not skipping karaoke night!” he declares one friday, dragging you along with an arm slung over your shoulder. “it’s tradition. plus, i need a duet partner.” despite your protests, you end up belting out a cheesy pop song with him, and by the end of the night, you’re laughing so hard your sides hurt.

✧ aventurine has a way of turning mundane workdays into something exciting. when the office printer breaks for the third time in a week, he stages a mock funeral for it, complete with a dramatic speech that leaves the whole team in stitches. when a boring meeting threatens to put everyone to sleep, he subtly slides a doodle of a cat in sunglasses across the table to you. “this is your future if you nail that presentation,” he whispers, making you snort into your notebook.

✧ he’s also fiercely protective in his own way. when a coworker tries to pass off your ideas as their own during a meeting, aventurine doesn’t hesitate to call them out. “actually, that was their suggestion,” he says smoothly, gesturing toward you. “and a brilliant one at that.” later, you thank him, and he waves it off with a grin. “what kind of mentor would i be if i didn’t have your back?”

✧ one day, he surprises you by asking, “so, any plans after work?” when you shake your head, he grins. “perfect. there’s this great spot nearby. they’ve got amazing food, and you, my friend, need a break.” true to his word, he takes you to a vibrant little café where you spend hours chatting about everything from work to your favorite movies. it’s the first of many after-hours hangouts, each one making you appreciate his depth and kindness even more.

✧ beneath all the bravado, aventurine is someone who genuinely cares about the people around him. whether he’s helping you polish a report at the last minute, cracking jokes to lighten the mood, or giving you a pep talk before a big presentation, he’s always there, reminding you that you’re not alone in the chaos of corporate life.

✧ “you know,” you tell him one day, “for someone who’s always goofing around, you’re actually really reliable.” he smirks, leaning back in his chair. “don’t ruin my image now. but… thanks. that means a lot.” and with that, you realise that aventurine isn’t just your charismatic mentor—he’s become a friend you can count on, no matter what.

✧ aventurine prides himself on being your go-to guy at work. he’s the one who explains tricky processes with flair, spices up boring meetings with his wit, and knows just how to cheer you up after a stressful day. so when dr. ratio starts swooping in, stealing your attention with his more clinical, straight-to-the-point explanations, aventurine feels his grip on his self-proclaimed “favorite coworker” status slipping—and he’s not happy about it.

✧ it all starts innocently enough. you’re struggling to understand a particularly dense section of a report, and aventurine is mid-way through one of his animated (and slightly roundabout) explanations when dr. ratio casually slides in. “actually, if you approach it like this…” he says, swiftly breaking down the problem with a few concise sentences. you light up, nodding enthusiastically. “oh! that makes so much sense! thanks, dr. ratio!”

✧ aventurine freezes, his grin faltering for a split second before he recovers. “yeah, exactly what i was saying,” he interjects, trying to reclaim the spotlight. but you’re too focused on scribbling down notes to notice the way aventurine’s golden eyes narrow at dr. ratio, silently promising retribution.

✧ it becomes a pattern. whenever dr. ratio happens to be around, he somehow manages to insert himself into your conversations with aventurine, offering insights that leave you marveling at his intelligence. aventurine, meanwhile, stands to the side, arms crossed and jaw tight, shooting death glares at dr. ratio that could probably melt steel.

✧ the worst part? you don’t notice a thing. you’re too busy soaking up all the advice and nodding along to dr. ratio’s calm, methodical tone. aventurine, on the other hand, is practically vibrating with barely-contained annoyance. “you know,” he mutters one day after dr. ratio walks away, “some people just love to show off.” you blink, confused. “who? dr. ratio? i think he’s just really smart.” aventurine forces a smile, but inside, he’s screaming.

✧ one afternoon, the tension reaches a boiling point. you’re sitting at your desk, completely engrossed in a conversation with dr. ratio about a new project. aventurine strolls by, intending to invite you out for coffee, but stops dead in his tracks when he sees the two of you. his usual swagger is replaced by a scowl as he watches dr. ratio lean slightly closer, pointing something out on your screen.

✧ aventurine clears his throat loudly, making both of you jump. “am i interrupting something?” he asks, his tone deceptively light. you shake your head, smiling. “nope! dr. ratio was just explaining this part of the project to me. it’s so fascinating, isn’t it?” aventurine’s eye twitches, but he plasters on a grin. “oh, sure. fascinating.”

✧ later, when it’s just the two of you, aventurine finally snaps. “you know, you don’t have to go to dr. ratio for everything. i’m pretty good at explaining stuff too, you know.” you tilt your head, surprised. “i know that! you’re amazing at it. i just thought you were busy earlier.” his annoyance melts a little at your words, though he still grumbles under his breath. “busy? never too busy for you.”

✧ despite his jealousy, aventurine never confronts dr. ratio directly—he’s too proud for that. instead, he doubles down on being the most fun, supportive, and reliable person in your work life. he’ll swoop in with snacks during long meetings, crack jokes that make you laugh until your sides hurt, and even stay late to help you finish projects, all while keeping a careful eye on dr. ratio.

✧ over time, you start to notice aventurine’s subtle protectiveness. when dr. ratio tries to monopolize your time, aventurine always finds a way to insert himself into the conversation, usually with a teasing remark or a playful jab. “don’t let him bore you to death,” he’ll say, flashing you a grin. “you deserve better.”

✧ eventually, you realize what’s been going on all along. one day, after yet another instance of aventurine shooting daggers at dr. ratio, you turn to him with a knowing smile. “you’re jealous, aren’t you?” his eyes widen, and he quickly denies it. “jealous? me? pfft, no way.” but the way he avoids your gaze and rubs the back of his neck gives him away.

✧ you laugh, reaching out to nudge his arm. “you’re ridiculous, you know that? i go to you for way more than just explanations. you’re my favourite coworker, aventurine.” his expression softens, a genuine smile replacing his usual smirk. “yeah, well… don’t forget it.” and with that, the tension finally dissolves, leaving the two of you closer than ever.

✧ aventurine isn’t one to do things halfway. when he decides to show his appreciation for you, he does it in the most aventurine way possible: by showering you with gifts that make the entire office green with envy.

✧ it starts with little things—a fancy pen that writes smoother than anything you’ve ever used, a sleek notebook with your initials embossed in gold, a bouquet of your favorite flowers that mysteriously appears on your desk one morning. “just thought you deserved something nice,” he says with a wink when you thank him, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world.

✧ but as time goes on, the gifts become more elaborate. one day, he surprises you with a delicate necklace featuring a gemstone that perfectly matches his eye color. “it reminded me of you,” he says, his voice softer than usual. “and, well… maybe a little of me too.” you can’t help but blush as you accept it, marveling at how the intricate design seems to mirror his signature style.

✧ aventurine has a knack for picking out accessories that are not only stunning but also distinctly him. bracelets with gold accents that resemble his attire, earrings that match the vibrant green of his signature scarf, even a brooch shaped like a starburst—a subtle nod to his larger-than-life personality. “now you’ll always have a piece of me with you,” he says with a grin, and you’re left wondering if he’s secretly a romantic underneath all that bravado.

✧ when your coworkers start noticing the gifts, they can’t help but comment. “wow, someone’s got a secret admirer,” one of them teases, eyeing the elegant watch aventurine gave you last week. you laugh it off, but aventurine, overhearing, leans in with a smug smile. “not so secret,” he quips, earning a round of laughter—and more than a few jealous looks.

✧ his generosity doesn’t stop at physical gifts. when you’re stressed about a big project, aventurine clears his schedule to help you out, staying late to go over every detail until you feel confident. “you’re gonna nail this,” he says firmly, sliding a cup of your favorite coffee across the desk. “and when you do, drinks are on me.”

✧ true to his word, he takes you to your favorite bar after work to celebrate your victories. “this is on me too,” he insists, waving off your protests as he orders the fanciest cocktail on the menu. as the night goes on, you realize these outings have become a tradition—a way for the two of you to unwind and talk about everything from work drama to your wildest dreams.

✧ aventurine’s gifts aren’t just about showing off; they’re his way of making sure you know how much he values you. whether it’s a luxurious piece of jewelry or a simple trinket that made him think of you, each one carries a piece of his heart.

✧ “you know you don’t have to do all this, right?” you tell him one day, fiddling with the bracelet he gave you. “i already know you care.” his usual playful smirk softens into something more genuine. “i know. but you deserve the best, and if I can give you that? well, why wouldn’t i?”

✧ at the end of the day, it’s not the gifts themselves that mean the most—it’s the thought behind them. every time you catch a glimpse of the necklace around your neck or the bracelet on your wrist, you’re reminded of aventurine’s unwavering support and affection. and, in a way, it feels like you’re carrying a little piece of him with you wherever you go.

dr. ratio — the genius overseer

✧ from the moment you joined the team, dr. ratio’s reputation preceded him. whispers of his brilliance—and his sharp tongue—circulated the office like wildfire. it wasn’t long before you experienced both firsthand.

✧ the first time you complimented him, his reaction was… unexpected. “wow, you’re so smart!” you exclaimed, eyes wide with genuine admiration after he solved a technical issue in under a minute. dr. ratio merely adjusted his glasses, his expression unreadable. “of course i am,” he replied, as if your praise was stating the obvious.

✧ despite his aloof demeanor, you couldn’t help but marvel at his intelligence. every time he unraveled a complex problem or presented an innovative solution, you were the first to pipe up with, “you’re a genius!” while your coworkers rolled their eyes, dr. ratio seemed to tolerate your praise—perhaps even enjoy it, though he’d never admit it outright.

✧ that said, his brilliance came with a side of harshness. when someone made a mistake, he didn’t hesitate to point it out with clinical precision. “this is wrong,” he’d say, his tone icy. “fix it. now.” your coworkers often avoided his gaze, but you? you took his criticisms in stride, knowing they were meant to make you better.

✧ “you’re lucky you’re not scared of him,” a coworker whispered one day after dr. ratio had finished reprimanding someone. you laughed nervously. “who says i’m not? he’s terrifying!”

✧ and terrifying he was—especially when he loomed over your desk. his towering height made it impossible not to feel a little intimidated as he peered down at your work. “is that how you were taught to do it?” he’d ask, his voice low and authoritative. you’d stammer out an apology, and he’d sigh, leaning closer to correct your mistakes.

✧ yet, beneath the intimidation, you noticed a certain… softness. while his scoldings were sharp, his corrections were always thorough. he didn’t just tell you what was wrong; he made sure you understood how to fix it. “i expect better from you,” he’d say, his tone firm but not unkind. “and you’re capable of it. don’t prove me wrong.”

✧ over time, you realized his harshness came from a place of high standards, not malice. “he’s only hard on the people he thinks have potential,” one coworker explained. “if he’s scolding you, it means he believes in you.”

✧ one day, after a particularly long lecture on proper procedures, you couldn’t help but tease him. “you’re like a strict professor, you know that?” he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “and you’re like a student who needs constant supervision.” you laughed, and for the briefest moment, you thought you saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward.

✧ despite his stern exterior, dr. ratio had his moments of unexpected kindness. when you stayed late to finish a project, he silently placed a cup of coffee on your desk. “you’ll need this,” he said simply before walking away.

✧ as much as he scared your coworkers, you found yourself growing more comfortable around him. his intelligence was something you admired, and his harsh critiques pushed you to improve. even when he loomed over your desk or scolded you for mistakes, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for his guidance.

✧ one day, after you finished a particularly challenging task, he stopped by your desk, his expression unreadable as always. “you did well,” he said, his voice softer than usual. your heart skipped a beat at the rare compliment. “thanks,” you replied, grinning. “but i couldn’t have done it without your help. you’re amazing, dr. ratio.”

✧ he didn’t respond immediately, but you could’ve sworn you saw a faint blush dust his cheeks as he turned away. “just keep it up,” he said, walking off. and in that moment, you realized that beneath all the harshness, dr. ratio truly cared about your growth—and maybe, just maybe, he was a little proud of you too.

✧ while dr. ratio’s reputation for brilliance and harsh criticism was well known, there was one thing many coworkers didn’t realize: if anyone dared to undermine you or make you feel less than capable, dr. ratio would swoop in with an icy calm that sent shivers down the spines of anyone within earshot.

✧ it all starts with a minor incident. one day, a coworker takes it upon themselves to “correct” your work in front of others, loudly pointing out a small mistake. “i’m not sure you’re doing this right,” they say condescendingly, not even bothering to offer a solution. you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, your confidence crumbling under the weight of their words.

✧ before you can even gather your thoughts, dr. ratio’s sharp gaze flicks toward the scene. “excuse me,” he says, his voice low and controlled, but with an unmistakable edge. the room falls silent as he rises from his desk, towering over the unfortunate coworker who dared to question you. “i believe you have something you’d like to say to [your name],” he continues, his tone cool but lethal.

✧ the coworker, visibly startled, stammers. “i… i just wanted to—”

✧ “no,” dr. ratio cuts them off. “what you wanted was to publicly embarrass [your name], correct? well, i won’t allow that.” his eyes narrow as he glares at them, sending a clear message that no one would challenge you while he was around.

✧ you watch, amazed, as the coworker mumbles an apology, their face flushed with humiliation. but dr. ratio isn’t done yet. he gives them one final, cold look. “you’re to report to my office immediately. we’ll discuss your conduct in private.”

✧ as the coworker slinks off to dr. ratio’s office, you can’t help but feel a surge of gratitude. sure, dr. ratio could be terrifying, but in this moment, he’s undeniably protective of you. you’re certain that if anyone else had been in your shoes, the situation would’ve played out differently—but not with dr. ratio.

✧ the next time you see that coworker, they’re quieter, avoiding eye contact with you. dr. ratio, however, acts as if nothing has happened, but you can sense a subtle shift in his behavior. when he comes over to check your work, there’s no condescension in his tone, only careful consideration. “let’s go over this,” he says, guiding you through the task with a calm, authoritative precision.

✧ as days go on, you realize this isn’t a one-time occurrence. dr. ratio is relentless in his protection of your work. if anyone dares to make you feel “dumb” or tries to undermine you in front of others, dr. ratio will handle it. his harsh scolding of other coworkers may be intimidating, but to you, it feels like a shield.

✧ “i don’t tolerate incompetence,” he once says in passing, his voice colder than usual. “but more importantly, i don’t tolerate anyone belittling a colleague who is working hard to improve. understand?”

✧ you nod fervently, unable to hide the warmth spreading through you at his words. no matter how intimidating he may be, dr. ratio has become your quiet protector—ensuring that no one ever makes you feel less than the capable, intelligent worker you are.

✧ the following week, when another coworker tries to mock your mistake, dr. ratio steps in before you can even react. “i suggest you follow up on your work with a bit more precision next time,” he says to them, his tone deceptively calm. “and perhaps remember that our colleague doesn’t need to be scrutinized by everyone in the room.”

✧ as the coworkers exchange nervous glances, you feel a sense of pride bubble up inside you. dr. ratio may be harsh and unapproachable at times, but in the moments that matter, he’s on your side—and you can’t help but be grateful for the silent bond you share.

✧ later, as you finish up a project together, dr. ratio’s usual criticism comes, but this time, it’s followed by a rare, approving nod. “better,” he says, and there’s a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “keep it up.”

✧ and in that moment, you realise that even though he scares most of the office with his sharp critiques and towering presence, dr. ratio has your back—always.

✧ dr. ratio’s intelligence wasn’t just limited to his work. he had an uncanny ability to read people, and when it came to aventurine’s jealousy, he wasn’t the least bit oblivious.

✧ it started with the subtle glances. aventurine would stare, just a little too long, whenever you and dr. ratio interacted, his eyes narrowing with quiet irritation. at first, dr. ratio didn’t pay it much attention—he had far too many things to focus on, after all. but after a few more incidents, something clicked in his mind.

✧ “you’re so smart, dr. ratio,” you said one day, obliviously smiling at him as he walked over to check your work. you were so absorbed in your task that you didn’t even notice aventurine’s glaring stare from across the room.

✧ but dr. ratio did. and rather than being irritated or bothered, he found the whole situation rather amusing.

✧ so, he began to play with it.

✧ whenever aventurine’s eyes lingered too long on you, dr. ratio would intentionally lean closer to you, his posture taking on a subtly possessive stance as he guided your hand to the right spot on your work. his gaze, however, would never leave aventurine’s direction, knowing full well it would drive him mad.

✧ “this is the correct formula, isn’t it?” dr. ratio asked, his voice soft, but his eyes locked on aventurine’s, daring him to do something. “just double-checking,” he continued, as you nodded, a little confused by his sudden intensity.

✧ aventurine’s face would turn red with frustration, and he’d shift uncomfortably, unwilling to approach or interfere directly, knowing well that dr. ratio’s calculating eyes never missed a thing.

✧ dr. ratio thrived in this silent game, even going as far as casually dropping his hand near yours when discussing a task, his fingers brushing against your palm just enough to make the tension rise. “ah, i see now,” he’d say, all innocence, glancing back at you. “you’re quite good at this, [your name].”

✧ to anyone else, it would seem like a normal work interaction, but to aventurine? it was pure agony.

✧ sometimes, dr. ratio would even take things a step further. when the entire team had gathered in the break room, he’d make it a point to stand so close to you that your shoulders almost touched, making sure aventurine caught every second of it. “you’re looking a bit pale today, [your name],” dr. ratio would comment casually, his tone overly sweet as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face.

✧ and aventurine’s patience would wear thin. the moment he saw dr. ratio’s hand linger near you, his sharp green eyes would flash with irritation, and he’d make his exit, mumbling something about “not having time for childish games” under his breath.

✧ dr. ratio’s amusement never seemed to fade. he’d always smirk, watching aventurine retreat, but his actions grew bolder with every passing day, each one designed to push aventurine’s buttons even more.

✧ “are you sure you’re okay, [your name]?” he’d ask again, this time purposefully leaning over you, so his presence loomed even more. “you look a little... off today.”

✧ by now, your confusion was palpable, but dr. ratio simply enjoyed watching the spectacle unfold. when aventurine would inevitably storm away, clearly flustered and annoyed, he’d chuckle to himself, his eyes glinting with the satisfaction of having gotten under his rival’s skin.

✧ one day, after an especially bold move from dr. ratio, aventurine finally snapped. “enough!” he growled, walking over to dr. ratio’s desk, his face red with fury. “stop flaunting your—your proximity like that!”

✧ dr. ratio simply tilted his head, acting entirely oblivious to the situation, though his smirk never wavered. “proximity?” he repeated. “i’m just making sure [your name] is doing their work correctly. i’d expect you to do the same.”

✧ aventurine glared at him, his body tensing, before turning on his heel, muttering something about needing air. dr. ratio leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the tension he’d just stirred.

✧ “he’s so easy to rile up,” dr. ratio mused aloud, glancing at you as he picked up his pen. “don’t you think, [your name]?”

✧ you blinked at him, still unsure of what had just happened, but dr. ratio simply smiled, his eyes gleaming with the satisfaction of a game well played. “don’t worry about it,” he said, a touch of humor in his voice. “just focus on your work. i’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

✧ and though you were still a bit confused, you couldn’t deny the strange thrill that seemed to linger in the air whenever dr. ratio and aventurine crossed paths.

sunday — the manager with a million excuses

✧ sunday isn’t your manager, not technically. he’s from another department, but that doesn’t stop him from finding ways to stop by your desk almost every day. it’s become such a regular occurrence that your coworkers have started joking about it.

✧ “what is it today, sunday?” you teased, smiling as he strolled up to your desk, a stack of papers in hand.

✧ “just need you to review these,” he said smoothly, setting them down in front of you. “you’ve got a good eye for detail, and I trust your judgment.”

✧ you couldn’t help but laugh. “shouldn’t someone in your own department be doing this?”

✧ “maybe,” he admitted, his lips twitching into a small smile. “but none of them are as good as you.”

✧ sunday has a way with words—polished, professional, but somehow carrying a warmth that makes you feel special. whether it’s complimenting your work ethic or praising your attention to detail, he always leaves you blushing and flustered.

✧ your coworkers often shoot you knowing looks whenever sunday appears. “he’s here again,” one of them whispered one day, nudging you as sunday made his way over, a confident stride in his step.

✧ “what’s he want now?” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t hide the small smile forming on your lips.

✧ “just thought you might want to take a look at these reports,” he said casually, as if he didn’t visit you almost every day with some excuse or another.

✧ “sunday, i think you’re running out of reasons to come over here,” you joked, flipping through the papers he’d handed you.

✧ “am i?” he asked, leaning slightly on your desk. his icy blue eyes held a teasing glint. “maybe I just enjoy your company.”

✧ he always makes sure to keep things light, even when the office gets hectic. one time, you were buried in work, your desk a mess of papers and files.

✧ “looks like you could use some help,” sunday said, appearing out of nowhere with a calm smile.

✧ “from you? don’t you have your own department to worry about?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

✧ “delegated,” he replied smoothly, already rolling up his sleeves. “besides, what kind of gentleman would I be if I left you like this?”

✧ he spent the next hour helping you sort through everything, his efficiency and calm demeanor a stark contrast to your frazzled state.

✧ sunday is the type of guy who knows how to command a room, but when he’s around you, there’s a softer, more personal side to him.

✧ “you know, you really don’t have to keep coming over here,” you said one day, unable to hide your smile.

✧ “and miss out on seeing your reaction every time?” he teased, his grin widening. “i think not.”

✧ though his visits might seem casual, there’s no denying the way he always seems to linger just a little longer than necessary, his gaze softening when he looks at you.

✧ “by the way,” he added as he handed you yet another stack of papers, “great work on that last report. i knew i could count on you.”

✧ and just like that, he was off, leaving you flustered and wondering if he’d ever run out of excuses—or if maybe, just maybe, he didn’t really need one to see you.

✧ as if sunday’s frequent visits to your desk weren’t enough, his sister robin somehow ends up knowing all about you. turns out, sunday talks about you to her a lot.

✧ “so, you’re the famous [your name],” robin said one day when she stopped by your department. her tone was casual, but her knowing smile made your cheeks heat up instantly.

✧ “f-famous?” you stammered, looking between her and sunday, who was standing just a few feet away, pretending to read over a document like he wasn’t paying attention.

✧ “oh, you know,” robin said with a gentle smile, “my brother just can’t stop talking about you. he’s always going on about how talented you are, how hardworking, how—”

✧ “robin,” sunday interrupted, his voice firm but his ears unmistakably red. “don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

✧ “what? i’m just making conversation,” robin replied innocently, though the smirk on her face said otherwise.

✧ unbeknownst to you, robin had taken it upon herself to play matchmaker. she’d started casually suggesting plans that conveniently involved the two of you spending more time together.

✧ “hey, [your name], you should join us for coffee after work,” robin said one day, popping into your office with sunday trailing behind her. “my treat!”

✧ “oh, i wouldn’t want to intrude,” you said, but robin waved off your protests with a grin.

✧ “nonsense. it’ll be fun!” she insisted, already dragging her brother along.

✧ during the outing, robin would subtly steer the conversation towards sunday, dropping little hints about how amazing he was.

✧ “you know, sunday’s always been the responsible one,” she said, leaning back with a sly smile. “he’s the kind of guy who’d move mountains for someone he cares about.”

✧ “robin,” sunday muttered, his voice low and warning, but his blush betrayed his usual calm demeanor.

✧ “it’s true!” robin said cheerfully, ignoring her brother’s glare.

✧ "he can cook as well, amazingly too. he's also great with numbers and smart, oh and he takes a lot of responsibility! i'm sure you can tell how great he is at taking care of others, right?"

✧ despite her best efforts, you remained blissfully unaware of her matchmaking attempts. to you, robin was just a sweet, friendly woman who clearly adored her brother—and maybe teased him a little too much.

✧ one time, robin went the extra mile and set up an impromptu lunch for you and sunday. she’d made an excuse about being busy and left you two alone at the café she’d picked.

✧ “well, this is... unexpected,” you said, glancing at sunday as the two of you sat across from each other.

✧ “she’s... persistent,” sunday admitted, a small, almost sheepish smile playing on his lips.

✧ even then, you didn’t think too much of it, chalking it up to robin just being robin. but sunday couldn’t help but glance at you, his gaze softening as you chatted away, completely oblivious to the fact that his sister had orchestrated the whole thing.

✧ “you’re lucky to have such a caring sister,” you said at one point, smiling warmly.

✧ “yeah,” sunday agreed, though his eyes never left you. “i am.”

✧ robin wasn’t subtle in her matchmaking efforts, but you somehow remained completely in the dark, much to her amusement. “you really don’t see it, do you?” she asked one day, pulling you aside during a break.

✧ “see what?” you asked, confused.

✧ “nothing,” robin said with a chuckle, shaking her head. “just... take care of my brother, okay?”

✧ her words lingered in your mind, but you brushed them off, not realizing the deeper meaning behind them—or the fond way sunday looked at you whenever you weren’t paying attention.

argenti — your go-to-manager and lifesaver (as well as a charming gentleman)

✧ argenti is the epitome of a gentleman, and he makes sure you know it every single day. no matter the task, he finds a way to compliment you, his words dripping with genuine admiration that always catches you off guard.

✧ whether it’s a passing glance or a quiet conversation, argenti never misses a chance to let you know how much he appreciates you—your intelligence, your kindness, your hard work. “you really have such an eye for detail, [your name],” he says with a charming smile, “it’s not something most people have. truly impressive.”

✧ his compliments are always warm, never forced, and his tone is soft and respectful. but for someone who’s so effortless in his flattery, it always sends a rush of heat to your cheeks. you can never get used to it, and every time, you find yourself stammering slightly.

✧ "oh, um, thank you, argenti," you say, trying to hide the blush that’s spreading across your face. “i—i didn’t expect you to notice.”

✧ argenti, of course, flashes his signature grin, a little mischievous but still incredibly sweet. "how could i not notice such brilliance?" he says smoothly, his eyes twinkling with an affectionate glint.

✧ the effect is immediate: your face turns an even deeper shade of red, and your heart flutters a little faster. it’s not just the words themselves but the way he delivers them—gentle and sincere, like he’s truly honored to be in your presence.

✧ and of course, the other coworkers notice.

✧ they’re not blind, and they’re certainly not immune to argenti’s charm. every time he compliments you, they can’t help but exchange looks of jealousy, some of them even rolling their eyes or scoffing when they see how naturally it comes to him.

✧ “again with the compliments?” one of your coworkers mutters under their breath, crossing their arms. “what is it with him? he barely even looks at anyone else like that.”

✧ another coworker leans in, whispering to the first, “doesn’t he know how hard it is to compete with that kind of charm? i mean, seriously, he’s all but swooning over [your name].”

✧ but argenti is completely unaware—or rather, he’s too focused on you to care about anyone else.

✧ “you really do brighten up the room when you walk in, [your name],” he says one day, his voice warm as he opens the door for you. his eyes lock with yours as you step through, the genuine admiration in them making your stomach flutter.

✧ you stutter a response, flustered and unsure how to handle all the attention. “thank you… argenti. i—I’m just trying to do my best.”

✧ “and it shows,” he responds with a wink, his hand lightly brushing your shoulder as you walk past him. the movement is casual but somehow meaningful, and you can practically feel the jealousy brewing in the air as the others watch from the corner of the room.

✧ it doesn’t help that argenti is always so attentive, so gentle, and so charming. whether it’s offering to carry your files or holding the door open for you, he goes out of his way to make sure you feel special in a way that’s completely sincere.

✧ “if you ever need help with anything, just ask,” he says with a soft chuckle as he notices you looking over a particularly complicated report. “you shouldn’t have to struggle on your own, especially when you have someone like me around.”

✧ you try to brush off the compliment, but it’s impossible not to blush every time. “argenti, you really don’t have to go out of your way…”

✧ “it’s no trouble at all,” he insists with a smile, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer than necessary. "besides, i enjoy being in your company."

✧ his words make your heart race, and before you know it, you’re completely lost in the warmth of his attention. but it’s not just you who notices the effect argenti has on you—everyone else can see it too, and it’s driving them crazy.

✧ “i swear, if i hear one more compliment from him, i’m going to lose it,” one of your coworkers mutters, clearly annoyed. “why does he always have to be so perfect with [your name]?”

✧ “it’s not like that,” another coworker defends half-heartedly, but the bitterness in their voice betrays their true feelings. “he’s just… a natural, i guess. but still.”

✧ it’s clear that argenti’s effortless charm is driving some of them to frustration, but he pays no mind to the growing jealousy around him. to him, complimenting you is just second nature—because he genuinely wants to make you feel good about yourself.

✧ “you’re quite a remarkable person, [your name],” argenti says with a soft, sincere smile one afternoon, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “and i don’t just mean in your work. i mean, in everything.”

✧ once again, your face goes crimson, and your heart flutters as he meets your gaze. no matter how much the others might grumble, it’s clear that you’re the one argenti sees as special, and you can’t help but feel incredibly lucky for it.

✧ with argenti, you know that his compliments are genuine, and in a world full of competition and rivalry, that’s something that feels truly rare.

✧ argenti holds a higher-up management position at work, which keeps him quite busy during office hours. he’s responsible for overseeing a lot of tasks and projects, which means he’s often pulled in different directions, but that doesn’t stop him from being a supportive presence in your work life.

✧ before work, though, he’s your go-to guy. whether it’s giving you advice on a tricky report, making sure you’re prepared for the day, or just offering a kind word, argenti always finds time for you.

✧ one day, you forget your ID at home, and argenti is the first to notice. without hesitation, he hands you his ID, saying, “don’t worry about it. use mine for both of us today.”

✧ you’re taken aback by his kindness, and it makes your heart flutter. “argenti, you really don’t have to…”

✧ “it’s no trouble at all,” he replies with a soft smile, his warm tone making you feel instantly at ease. “i don’t mind. you’ve helped me plenty of times before, so it’s the least i can do.”

✧ during work, argenti is often preoccupied with his management duties, but that doesn’t stop him from offering you encouragement whenever he has the chance. sometimes, when you run into a tough situation, he’ll sneak over to your desk and offer a quick suggestion, always ensuring that you’re doing okay without interrupting your flow.

✧ “need a hand with that?” he’ll ask with a gentle smile, his eyes meeting yours in a way that lets you know he’s got your back, no matter how busy he is.

✧ while he’s busy with his own responsibilities, argenti always makes you feel like a priority, and you often find yourself grateful for how attentive he is, even when his schedule is packed. his support is a constant, and it’s clear that he genuinely cares about your success and well-being.

✧ the others often notice the way argenti looks out for you, and there’s a bit of jealousy in the air. “how does [your name] get all that help?” they’ll mutter under their breath when they see him helping you. but argenti pays no mind. he’s just doing what comes naturally to him—looking out for you in the way he knows best.

✧ with argenti, you never feel alone in the workplace. whether it’s before work, during a hectic day, or even in the small moments when you need a hand, he’s always there to lend support, and it’s one of the things that makes him stand out in the office.

boothill — the wanted galaxy ranger with a secret identity

✧ boothill works with you at the corporate office, though he’s not quite what he seems. by day, he’s a charming and somewhat mysterious coworker who sticks to his role, but by night, he’s the notorious galaxy ranger on the run, wanted for his exploits across the city. no one knows this side of him—except you.

✧ he’s the kind of guy who keeps to himself at work but is always helpful in subtle ways. he’ll swing by your desk to hand you a file you didn’t know you needed or quietly offer advice when he sees you struggling with a project. but there’s something off about him—something that makes you sense there’s more to his story.

✧ “you’ve been working hard lately,” he says one day as he slides a cup of coffee onto your desk. “make sure you don’t burn yourself out.”

✧ you can’t help but smile at his thoughtful gesture, but there’s a certain sadness in his eyes, like he’s carrying a heavy burden.

✧ “thanks, boothill. i appreciate it,” you reply, wondering why he seems so tired lately. he rarely stays late at the office, and when he does, he’s always in and out, never really engaging with anyone.

✧ it’s not until one night, after work hours, that you stumble across his secret. you’re staying late to finish a project when you hear strange noises coming from the office’s loading dock. curious, you peek through the window and spot boothill in a heated conversation with a few shady-looking figures.

✧ “keep it down, will you?” boothill growls, clearly agitated. “i don’t have time for this. i’ve got things to do.”

✧ you watch in shock as one of the figures pulls out a holographic wanted poster with boothill’s face on it. “you think we’re just going to let you get away with your little stunts, ranger?” the figure sneers.

✧ boothill’s jaw tightens, but he keeps his composure. “you’ll have to catch me first.”

✧ before you can react, boothill spots you through the window and waves you over. “it’s not what it looks like,” he says, his voice calm but with an edge to it. “just some personal business. nothing to worry about.”

✧ you’re stunned, your mind racing with the implications of what you’ve just seen. “boothill… you’re…”

✧ he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “well to cut things short i’ve got a bounty on my head from some folks who want to catch me. but don’t worry, i won’t drag you into this.”

✧ you’re speechless for a moment, trying to process the fact that your seemingly quiet coworker is a fugitive. but even as you try to wrap your mind around it, you realize you’re not afraid of him. if anything, you’re intrigued.

✧ “you’ve been helping me all this time, and you’re wanted?” you ask, incredulity in your voice. “why?”

✧ boothill looks down, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “guess i’m not all bad, huh? maybe i’m just trying to lay low, do some good when i can. don’t worry about it, though. it’s my mess to clean up.”

✧ from that point on, you can’t help but keep an eye on him. the more you observe, the more you see how much boothill is not the criminal the posters paint him to be. he’s protective of his coworkers, always putting others first when it counts, and secretly, he’s a man with a heart of gold under that tough exterior.

✧ one day, as you’re wrapping up a meeting, boothill slides you a note under the table. “let’s meet up after work. i’ll tell you more. don’t bring anyone else.”

✧ you agree, meeting him at a nearby bar after hours where you learn more about his past and the reasons behind his fugitive status. the more you get to know him, the more you realize that he’s a man of honor caught up in a dangerous game—and you’re lucky to be the one person he trusts.

✧ "you know," boothill says quietly, looking over his shoulder as if checking for any prying eyes, "this whole office thing? it’s not as boring as i thought. i kind of like it here... even if i’m not exactly cut out for the nine-to-five life."

✧ with boothill, you never know when the next adventure will come knocking at the door, but you do know one thing: he’s not just a wanted fugitive. he’s someone who genuinely cares, and no matter what happens, you’ll stand by him.

✧ boothill’s protective nature comes through loud and clear in the workplace. while he usually keeps a low profile, he’s always observant of those around him, especially when it comes to you. if any coworker becomes too familiar or crosses boundaries, boothill is there in an instant, his usually calm demeanour shifting into something more serious.

✧ “you’ve been working late again,” he says casually as he leans against the side of your desk, but his eyes are sharp. “you okay?”

✧ you glance up, a little startled by his sudden presence. “yeah, just wrapping things up. why?”

✧ boothill leans in slightly, his tone low but firm. “there was a guy—looked like he was hanging around your desk too much. kept lingering.”

✧ your brows furrow in confusion. “wait, really? I didn’t even notice.”

✧ boothill gives you a small smile, his hand resting casually on his hip. “exactly. but I did. if someone’s making you uncomfortable, you tell me. I won’t let anyone mess with you.”

✧ from then on, boothill becomes your unofficial office protector. whenever you’re at work late, he’ll quietly keep an eye on things, checking in on you without making it obvious. if any coworker begins to act suspiciously or crosses boundaries, boothill steps in, handling it swiftly and effectively.

✧ “excuse me, you’ve been lingering around [your name]’s desk,” boothill says one day, addressing a particularly nosy coworker. “if you’ve got something to say, say it now, but keep your distance.”

✧ the coworker stumbles over his words, visibly uneasy under boothill’s intense gaze. “I—just trying to ask about the report,” he mutters, but boothill isn’t buying it.

✧ “then talk to me. don’t waste [your name]’s time. she doesn’t need to deal with you.”

✧ word quickly spreads in the office about boothill’s protective nature. though his reputation precedes him, no one dares to challenge him after witnessing how swiftly he handles situations. he’s known as someone not to cross—not because of fear, but because of his quiet authority and clear boundaries.

✧ one evening, as you’re working late again, a group of coworkers decides to invite you to a casual after-hours hangout at a nearby bar. before you can even answer, boothill approaches with a polite smile but a firm tone.

✧ “she’s busy tonight,” he says, cutting off any attempts to sway you. “she’ll join next time. but tonight, she’s got things to finish up.”

✧ you blink in surprise. “boothill, I wasn’t even thinking of going.”

✧ “just letting you know. no need to explain.” his gaze lingers just long enough to make it clear he’s watching out for you.

✧ as you and boothill spend more time together, you realize his protective instincts extend beyond work. whether it’s an annoying project deadline or a pushy coworker, boothill is there to shield you, often without you even noticing.

✧ “you don’t have to keep looking out for me,” you tell him one day, touched by his constant vigilance.

✧ boothill offers a small, self-deprecating grin. “it’s kind of my thing. protecting people, especially you. besides, someone’s gotta make sure you’re not getting into trouble around here.”

✧ with boothill around, the office feels safer in more ways than one. not only is he highly capable, but he’s also incredibly attentive, ensuring that no one crosses lines and keeping you from dealing with unnecessary stress. in a place where boundaries can be blurred, boothill stands firm, protecting you in a way that is both subtle and powerful.

✧ and despite his feelings for you, he is aware that he's not the only one vying for their affection. he knows that he'll have to compete against other coworkers who also have their sights set on you. they all work hard to stand out from the competition, showcasing their best qualities and going above and beyond to make you feel special.

phainon — the charming coworker (and your golden retriever)

✧ phainon is the new guy in the office, and at first glance, he seems like a kind, helpful person who’s always willing to lend a hand. you quickly learn that he’s got a unique balance between being genuinely helpful and teasingly snarky, which throws people off—especially because it’s hard to tell when he’s joking or being sincere.

✧ one day, when you’re struggling with a report that’s due the next day, phainon swings by your desk with a half-smile and a twinkle in his eye. “you look like you’ve been wrestling with that thing for hours. don’t tell me you're going to miss the deadline?”

✧ you sigh, running your hand through your hair. “I’m trying, but it’s just not coming together.”

✧ phainon leans over your desk, looking at the screen. “it’s not rocket science, you know,” he says, his voice light but with a teasing edge. “just break it into smaller chunks, maybe that’ll help you focus.”

✧ you glance up, half-expecting him to follow up with some kind of sarcastic remark, but instead, he just gives you a knowing look and steps back. “don’t stress. you’ll get it done, no problem.”

✧ you blink, surprised by his supportive tone. “thanks, phainon. I didn’t think you were, like, the motivational type.”

✧ phainon shrugs nonchalantly, his expression neutral but his smile hinting at something mischievous. “what can I say? I’ve got layers. don’t always go by the first impression. but seriously, get that report done.”

✧ though his words often have a teasing tone, you can tell he’s genuinely trying to help. he doesn’t linger too long and doesn’t push when you ask for space, but you find yourself trusting his advice more than you’d expect.

✧ phainon has this way of dishing out advice with a sarcastic twist that somehow makes everything seem lighter, even when the workload is overwhelming. his comments, though snarky, never feel malicious—just playful and oddly comforting.

✧ “you know,” he says one day while you’re working on something else, “if you stare at the same thing long enough, it’ll probably start staring back. but hey, that’s just my unrequested wisdom for today.”

✧ you can’t help but laugh, which catches the attention of a few other coworkers. “you’re weird, phainon.”

✧ he grins widely. “that’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day.”

✧ one thing you quickly realize about phainon is that he’s always ready with a snarky remark when others need a little cheering up. when some of your coworkers are getting bogged down with tasks or stressed about deadlines, phainon swoops in with just the right kind of comment to lift their spirits.

✧ “looks like the project’s giving you a headache, huh?” he says one day to a colleague, who looks ready to pull their hair out. “you know, the desk chairs are actually pretty comfy for napping if you get too tired. just sayin’.”

✧ at first, people assume phainon’s just being dismissive or rude, but it’s clear he’s actually trying to inject a little humor into a stressful situation. even if he’s not the most obvious cheerleader, his presence has a calming effect on everyone around him.

✧ when it’s your turn to be stressed or overworked, phainon steps in without being asked, offering support in his own unique way. “you look like you could use a break,” he says, showing up at your desk with a cup of coffee. “thought I’d make your life a little easier. I know you’ve been working non-stop.”

✧ you give him a grateful smile, surprised by the gesture. “thanks, phainon. you’re not as bad as you act, you know that?”

✧ “hey, I’m a ray of sunshine when I need to be,” he says, winking. “don’t get too used to it, though.”

✧ over time, you start to realize that phainon’s teasing remarks and seemingly neutral tone are just his way of showing he cares. he’s not overly sentimental or loud about it, but when it counts, he’s always there to lend a hand, a witty remark, or some much-needed comic relief.

✧ if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was just a guy who liked to stir the pot with a few sarcastic jabs—but underneath it all, phainon is one of the most reliable coworkers you could ask for, with a heart that’s just as layered as his personality.

✧ at first glance, phainon might seem like the cool, snarky guy who’s always ready with a clever remark. his white hair and icy blue eyes give him an air of mystery, making him stand out in the office. but what most don’t see immediately is his protective side, the one that shows itself when you need it the most.

✧ one day, as you’re rushing to catch a meeting and navigating a crowded hallway, you trip over your own feet, completely losing your balance. before you can even blink, phainon is right there, his arm slipping around your waist to keep you steady, his grip firm yet gentle.

✧ “you alright?” he asks, his voice calm, though there’s a slight edge of concern underneath.

✧ you blink up at him, still in a daze from the near-fall. “uh, yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

✧ phainon’s icy blue eyes flicker with a softness that isn’t often seen in his usual teasing demeanor. “be careful next time. don’t need you hurting yourself over something so simple.”

✧ you chuckle nervously, straightening up. “I didn’t even see that coming.”

✧ he doesn’t let go of your waist immediately, though, his hand lingering just a little longer than necessary as if making sure you’re fully steady again. when he finally pulls away, there’s a faint, teasing smile on his lips. “you’re welcome. I’m here to make sure you don’t do something silly, like break your neck over your own two feet.”

✧ the fact that phainon is so quick to react in situations like these makes you realise that beneath his cool and sarcastic exterior, there’s genuine care for the people around him—especially you.

✧ even in the office, when you’re dealing with a particularly difficult task or a stressful moment, phainon is always there to offer support, though he does it in his own unique way.

✧ “need a hand?” he’ll ask, his voice cool but kind, his usual teasing replaced by a rare sincerity.

✧ when you’re struggling to juggle multiple tasks, he’ll pop by your desk, lean in just a little too close, and offer you some advice in a tone that could easily be mistaken for a snarky comment, but you can tell it’s his way of offering help.

✧ “you know, multitasking is a bit overrated. try focusing on one thing at a time, and maybe you’ll actually get it right.”

✧ you know he’s trying to lighten the mood, and his icy demeanor has a way of making everything feel less heavy.

✧ there’s also something about the way phainon carries himself that makes you feel safe, like he’s always looking out for you in a quiet, understated way. it’s not the loud, attention-grabbing kind of protectiveness; instead, it’s the kind where you know he’s there when you need him, without needing to be reminded.

✧ one day, after a particularly long day at work, you’re heading to your car when you notice a strange figure lurking near the parking lot. the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and instinctively, you reach for your phone to call security.

✧ before you can make the call, phainon appears out of nowhere, his icy blue eyes sharp and focused as he stands by your side. his mere presence is enough to make the stranger hesitate.

✧ “everything alright?” phainon asks smoothly, his tone calm, but the intensity in his eyes says it all.

✧ the stranger looks at phainon, clearly intimidated by his towering presence and the cool authority in his voice. without a word, they turn and leave, their posture tense as they quickly walk away.

✧ you blink in surprise as phainon turns to you, his gaze softening just a little. “don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

✧ there’s something about the way he says it, so sure and calm, that makes you feel safe. you realize that no matter how cold or snarky he might seem, phainon would do anything to protect you, whether it’s from a near fall or an unknown threat lurking in the shadows.

✧ as time goes on, you begin to notice more of his small protective gestures—like when he makes sure you’re not walking alone late at night or when he steps in to smooth things over when coworkers are making you feel uncomfortable.

✧ it’s clear that phainon may seem like the golden retriever in your team, teasing coworker on the outside, but in reality, he’s a true protector with a heart of gold, always watching out for you in his own way. whether it’s offering a steady arm when you stumble or quietly ensuring your safety.

✧ and when you call him "your hero" jokingly you fail to notice how his cheeks grow reader by each second. because in all seriousness phainon would love to be your hero, your prince.

mydei — the fiery troublemaker (who undeniably has a soft spot for you)

✧ mydei is the loud, brash coworker everyone knows not to mess with. his sharp tongue and hard-spoken nature make him stand out in the office, and he’s got a reputation for causing a little trouble here and there. but what most people don’t expect is how fiercely protective he is—especially when it comes to you.

✧ you also see him around phainon a lot, they seem close despite the small bickering every now and then (and their lingering gazes fixated on someone), often times mydei even asks for you to join him and phainon at break in the cafeteria, and sometimes you have to turn them down, already planning to sit with blade and/or jing yuan.

✧ does it frustrate him? slightly yeah. but can he do anything about it? well technically yes, he can. but blade? that guy's TOUGH. if he were to try to persuade or even threaten blade he's 100% sure it'll turn into a catfight or something. and if they were to say it was because of you? your reputation and career would be over.

✧ and he can't have that. not when he's finally interested in someone after those boring corporate years.

✧ one time, a higher-up tried to dump extra work on you at the last minute, and before you could even process what was happening, mydei stepped in. he loomed over the poor soul with a smirk that could send shivers down anyone’s spine.

✧ “do as they say,” he growled, his tone low and dangerous. “otherwise… I’ll turn you into iron dust with my bare hands.”

✧ the sheer intimidation radiating off him was enough to make the higher-up back off immediately, stammering out an apology before practically running out of the room. you were left blinking in surprise as mydei turned back to you, his expression softening just a little.

✧ “you good?” he asked, crossing his arms as if daring anyone else to mess with you.

✧ you nodded, still a bit stunned. “yeah, thanks… but maybe next time, don’t threaten to, uh, turn someone into iron dust?”

✧ he let out a gruff laugh, shrugging. “hey, it worked, didn’t it? no one messes with my team. especially not you.”

✧ despite his rough exterior, mydei has a soft spot for you that he tries (and fails) to hide. whether it’s grabbing an extra coffee for you in the morning or making sure no one overloads you with tasks, he’s always looking out for you in his own gruff way.

✧ when you’re overwhelmed with work, mydei doesn’t hesitate to step in. “give me some of that,” he says, already pulling a stack of papers off your desk.

✧ “mydei, you don’t have to—”

✧ “stop talking and let me help,” he interrupts, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’re not doing this alone, alright?”

✧ his protectiveness extends beyond just work. one time, a creepy coworker kept hovering around your desk, making you uncomfortable. mydei noticed immediately and didn’t hesitate to intervene.

✧ “you got something to do, or are you just here to bother people?” he said, his voice sharp and cutting. the creep quickly made themselves scarce, and mydei shot you a reassuring look.

✧ “don’t let idiots like that bother you,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “if anyone gives you trouble, you come to me, got it?”

✧ you can’t help but admire how effortlessly he handles situations like that, even if his methods are a bit… unconventional.

✧ mydei’s protective nature isn’t just about threats and intimidation, though. he genuinely cares about your well-being, even if he’s not the best at expressing it.

✧ “you look tired,” he says one day, frowning as he watches you rub your temples. “when was the last time you ate?”

✧ “i’m fine, mydei,” you assure him, but he’s already walking off to grab you something from the break room.

✧ “no arguments,” he calls over his shoulder. “you’re not working yourself into the ground on my watch.”

✧ while some people might find his rough edges intimidating, you’ve come to see the softer side of him—the one that’s fiercely loyal and always ready to stand up for the people he cares about.

✧ even when he’s causing a bit of trouble or throwing out wild threats, you know it’s all because he wants to protect you. mydei might be a troublemaker, but he’s your troublemaker, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

✧ mydei’s reputation in the office is practically legendary. no one dares to cross him—his hard-spoken, no-nonsense demeanour makes it crystal clear that he’s not someone to mess with. coworkers usually avoid his gaze, and when he speaks, even the boldest among them stutter and apologise before scurrying off like frightened mice.

✧ you’ve seen it happen countless times, like the day a supervisor tried to overload you with tasks. before you could even muster a response, mydei was there, leaning casually against the supervisor’s desk with a dangerous smirk.

✧ “are you deaf?” he said, his voice calm but laced with an unmistakable edge. “they said they’re busy. unless you want me to turn you into iron dust with my bare hands, I suggest you listen.”

✧ the supervisor’s face turned pale, and they stammered out a hasty apology before retreating so quickly they almost tripped over their own feet. you blinked at mydei, half in awe and half in disbelief.

✧ “you really don’t have to threaten everyone,” you said, trying not to laugh.

✧ he shrugged, grinning. “it’s effective, isn’t it?”

✧ despite his rough methods, there’s no denying that mydei’s protectiveness is unmatched. if anyone even thinks about overworking you or making you feel uncomfortable, he’s there in an instant, ready to handle the situation.

✧ one time, you accidentally spilled coffee on some important paperwork, and a coworker started to berate you for being careless. mydei appeared out of nowhere, his arms crossed and his glare cutting through the tension like a knife.

✧ “you got a problem?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

✧ the coworker froze, their face going pale. “n-no, of course not! it’s fine, really!” they stammered before practically sprinting away.

✧ you turned to mydei, feeling equal parts grateful and flustered. “you didn’t have to scare them off like that.”

✧ he smirked, tapping the side of your desk. “you’re too nice. someone’s gotta put these idiots in their place.”

✧ mydei’s presence is so commanding that even the most confident employees think twice before crossing him. yet with you, he softens in ways that surprise even himself.

✧ when you’re stressed or tired, he notices right away. “you’ve been working too hard,” he says, frowning as he watches you rub your temples. “take a break before I make you.”

✧ he’s also fiercely protective of your time. if someone tries to drag you into unnecessary meetings or pile on extra work, mydei steps in without hesitation.

✧ “their plate’s already full,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “find someone else.”

✧ no one ever argues with him—at least, not for long. the workers usually nod nervously, mutter apologies, and retreat as quickly as they can.

✧ mydei’s protectiveness extends to the little things, too. if you forget your lunch or need help carrying something heavy, he’s there, grumbling about how you need to take better care of yourself but still helping you without question.

✧ “you’re lucky I’m here,” he says, handing you a lunch he picked up from the break room. “what would you do without me?”

✧ his gruff words might sound teasing, but the warmth in his actions speaks volumes.

✧ also if you didn't know, he is notorious for his messy uniform. his tie is always loose, his shirt untucked at the corners, and his blazer perpetually wrinkled, like he just rolled out of bed and strolled into work. it’s the kind of look that would get anyone else reprimanded daily—but somehow, mydei pulls it off effortlessly. in fact, it’s part of his charm.

✧ you can’t help but notice how many coworkers—especially the women—sneak glances at him when he walks by. he’s the kind of guy who looks annoyingly good no matter what, his roguish appearance only adding to his already intimidating charisma.

✧ “you’re going to get written up again,” you tease one morning, pointing at his untied tie.

✧ he grins, leaning casually against your desk. “let them try,” he says, completely unbothered. “besides, I don’t see you complaining.”

✧ you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way his confidence makes your cheeks warm. “i’m just saying—it wouldn’t hurt to look a little more… professional.”

✧ “professional, huh?” he leans in slightly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “you offering to fix it for me?”

✧ flustered, you wave him off. “fix it yourself, mydei!”

✧ despite his rebellious attitude, he never fails to catch the attention of the higher-ups, who often call him out for his appearance.

✧ “mydei, your uniform is unacceptable,” his supervisor scolds during a meeting.

✧ he shrugs, adjusting his loose tie just enough to feign compliance. “it’s a tie, not a noose. I like to breathe.”

✧ you stifle a laugh as his coworkers exchange nervous glances. no one dares to challenge him further, knowing how quickly he can turn the situation in his favor.

✧ when he’s not stirring up trouble with his uniform, mydei’s protective streak shines through in unexpected ways. one time, you tripped over a loose cable and nearly fell, but his reflexes were faster than you could believe.

✧ “careful,” he muttered, his arm firmly around your waist to steady you. his usual smirk softened for a moment as he looked down at you. “you trying to give me a heart attack?”

✧ your heart raced as you nodded sheepishly. “thanks, mydei…”

✧ “anytime,” he said, releasing you reluctantly. his hand lingered for a second longer than necessary, but neither of you acknowledged it.

✧ while his uniform might be a constant source of reprimands, his messy, laid-back style somehow adds to his charm. you can’t help but think that even if he cleaned up his act, he’d still be the same mydei—fiery, protective, and always ready to have your back.

✧ and as much as you’d never admit it out loud, you don’t mind the loose tie or the wrinkled blazer. it’s just… him. and he wouldn’t be mydei without it.

✧ mydei’s appearance is nothing short of striking, and the red marks that stretch from his chest to his arms and even onto the side of his face make him impossible to miss. they’re bold, fiery streaks that seem to mirror his personality—unapologetic and intense. coworkers whisper about them, but no one dares to ask him about their meaning, not when his fiery glare can send chills down anyone’s spine.

✧ “doesn’t it bother you?” you asked him one day, your curiosity getting the better of you as you gestured to the marks.

✧ he looked at you, one eyebrow raised. “bother me? they’re part of me,” he said simply, shrugging. “why, do they bother you?”

✧ “no, of course not!” you said quickly, feeling your cheeks warm. “i think they’re… cool.”

✧ his lips twitched into a rare, genuine smile. “good. wouldn’t want to scare you off.”

✧ those red marks only add to the aura of danger and confidence he carries with him. his uniform might be a mess, but the way he owns it—combined with his sharp, handsome features—draws attention wherever he goes.

✧ his coworkers (especially the women) steal glances at him all the time, though no one dares to approach him directly.

✧ “mydei, you’re like a walking distraction,” you teased one day, noticing the stares he was getting.

✧ he smirked, leaning closer to you. “jealous?”

✧ “hardly!” you shot back, crossing your arms.

✧ “good,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes glinting with something more. “because I don’t care about them.”

✧ his protectiveness of you is unmatched. whenever someone so much as looks at you the wrong way, mydei’s fiery temper flares up.

✧ one time, a particularly rude coworker made a snide comment about your work. before you could respond, mydei was there, looming over them with his arms crossed. the red marks on his face seemed to glow faintly under the fluorescent lights, making him look even more intimidating.

✧ “care to repeat that?” he said, his voice low and dangerous.

✧ the coworker stammered, their face pale. “n-no, it’s fine! just a joke!”

✧ “thought so,” mydei said, his tone cold as ice. “don’t let it happen again.”

✧ when you almost tripped over a stack of files one day, his reflexes kicked in instantly. his arm shot out to wrap around your waist, keeping you steady.

✧ “you okay?” he asked, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of distress.

✧ “yeah, thanks,” you said, your heart racing.

✧ his hand lingered on your waist for a moment before he stepped back, his usual smirk returning. “you need to be more careful. i can’t always be around to catch you.”

✧ whether it’s scaring off creeps or helping you with tasks, mydei’s protectiveness is constant. but it’s the moments where his fiery exterior softens, where his actions speak louder than his words, that truly make your heart flutter.

✧ and those red marks, the ones that make him look like a warrior straight out of legend? they’re a reminder of who he is—bold, fearless, and always ready to stand by your side. (oh and btw you're the only one who's allowed to call him mydeimos)

note: i did not expect to write 15.9k on this why did i do this to myself.

taglist 🏷️:  @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @yuri-is-silly @khoiyyu @daydreaming-paradies if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

[starconchs]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐒— bakugo katsuki

pairing: pro hero bakugo katsuki x gn reader summary: when aizawa calls and asks for a personal favor, bakugo is ready to expect the worst. genre: strangers to lovers, fluff word count: ~7k warnings: mentions of stalking, nothing happens, you take care of it notes: sorry if he's ooc, take this more as a character study. just a little test to see how i feel when writing for bakugo. description of quirk left super vague, literally just a mention of it being helpful. not proofread sorry ummm rushed too

When Bakugo Katsuki gets a call from Aizawa, he doesn't know what to expect.

There's a brief moment of silence when the call connects, and Bakugo feels himself tense slightly when Aizawa does not speak immediately. He's the first to give in, gruffly greeting his former teacher and being met with nothing but a sigh in return.

"Bakugo," Aizawa starts, his tone dull and tired. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, but i need you to do me a personal favor."

Another moment of silence ensues as Bakugo processes his request. He knows he can say no, but there's something about the fact that Aizawa— the man who has been through everything with him and his former classmates, fought with them and for them, and stood up for him when he was kidnapped by the League of Villains—personally calling and asking him that makes him hesitate before answering.

"Fine," he finally says, already thinking about how he's gonna tell Shitty Hair— Kirishima! he hears Mina correcting him in his head— that he might be out of commission for a few days. "What do you need me to do."

"Just show up when I tell you to," Aizawa says in response. "Maintain a high level of secrecy. Don't tell anyone where you're going. I'll send you the address. See you soon."

Aizawa hangs up before Bakugo can respond, and he mutters a series of curse words under his breath before tossing his phone into his duffel bag and leaving for his agency.

Three days later, Aizawa sends him an encrypted text.

Aizawa's text leads Bakugo to a fancy looking apartment complex close to Izuku's agency. When he knocks on the door of the apartment number provided, he's met with none other than Izuku himself.

"What are you doing here, you fucking nerd?" Bakugo asks, his words harsh and biting as he pushes past him and into the apartment.

"I invited him," Aizawa replies tiredly, trying to stop the fighting before it can begin. "This apartment and the other safe house are in the area that falls under his patrol route, so I thought it'd be a good idea to keep him in the loop."

"You're already pulling one of Japan's finest heroes off the streets for this stupid case, is it really necessary to get another involved?"

Bakugo turns when he hears someone new speak, his eyes narrowing when they land on you and an angry looking woman tapping away on her phone.

He knows who you are, used to seeing your pretty face plastered on advertisements and magazines throughout the country. You're a well known singer who dabbles in acting, someone he's tired of hearing about from the group of idiots he calls his friends. An irritated huff escapes his lips and he finds himself thinking about all the times he protected celebrities when he was still a new hero on the scene, and how they turned out to be nothing more than spoiled brats.

"You and Anya both know this case isn't stupid," Aizawa says patiently, shooting you an unreadable look. Bakugo waits to see how you react, studying you as you exchange a look with the other woman— Anya— and pull the blanket on your lap closer to you. Aizawa ignores the two of you, instead choosing to take the time to remind you, and reveal to the other heroes, what exactly he has called them there for. "There is a stalker out there following your each and every move. Do you understand that? And they've already proven that they will stop at nothing to get to you."

"I know," you say softly, your eyes never leaving Aizawa's. "But I can take care of myself. C'mon, you trained me yourself."

There's a moment of silence, and Bakugo thinks that Aizawa might give in. He's wrong.

"No. Hizashi and I have already decided that Bakugo will be keeping an eye on you for the forseeable future and he has agreed to do it. And Midoriya has agreed to keep an eye out during his patrols as well."

Bakugo waits for it. He braces himself and waits for the pettiness and childishness that he's seen displayed by other big names when they don't get what they want. He waits for the yelling, the waterworks, maybe even the sight of you throwing something at Aizawa. But it never comes.

Instead, you nod and stand before turning to face him, letting him catch a glimpse of the frown on your lips and defeat in your eyes before you bow deeply.

"I apologize for the inconvenience."

"O-oh! No, please don't bow," Izuku immediately says, waving his hands in an attempt to grab your attention. "That's not nec—"

"Don't gimme that shit," Bakugo interrupts, crossing his arms. His comment earns him a strangled noise from Izuku, but his gaze doesn't leave you. "Stand the fuck up and tell me whatever else I need to know."

He thinks he sees you biting back an amused smile at his words, but you quickly school your features before you let yourself fall back onto the couch. Aizawa lets himself settle into the seat next to you, a smile ghosting his lips when you reach for a mug of coffee on the table and hand it to him.

"It started a year ago," Aizawa begins. Anya walks around the couch, picking up a thick folder from the table and handing it to Bakugo. He starts looking through it, eyes scanning every individual item before passing it to Izuku. There's letters of varying lengths and pictures of you from all angles, accompanied by the occasional police evidence photo of what he assumes to be gifts you've received.

"I would receive sporadic letters, at first," you add, your voice tired and quiet. "We thought it was regular fanmail, y'know? But then things started getting weird. They would mention specific things that I'd do on my days off, or ask what I was making with the groceries I had delivered to my door on a certain day. They never signed them but the police confirmed that the handwriting matched, so we know it's one person."

"We assume it's one person," Anya corrects, earning a tired sigh from Aizawa. "We don't really know anything about them."

Her words cause you to furrow your brow, and you sigh softly before looking back up at the Pros. Bakugo's eyebrow raises when he comes across a hospital record for a Yamamoto Anya, and he angles it slightly to show Izuku.

"You were in the hospital?" Izuku asks softly, green eyes scanning the report before turning to face the two of you. Anya nods firmly but remains silent, crossing her arms before perching on the arm rest of the couch next to you.

"Anya's my manager, and my best friend," you explain, clasping your hands together. "As I said earlier, at first the incidents were sporadic. Then we went to the police to ask them to investigate. We don't know how, but the stalker found out and things started getting weirder. There were anonymous gifts being received to the apartment I have under a different name and I was receiving texts from an untraceable number. We still don't know who the target was, but the night of the Tokyo Music Awards, there was an attack."

"Wasn't that last week?" Izuku asks, looking through the file to find the corresponding police report. "It was all over the news. They said that some small time villain had attacked but that there had been enough Pros working security for the event and that it had been taken care of without issue."

"That's what we told them to say," Aizawa reveals. "In reality, it was targeted. We don't know if they intended to kidnap or to injure but things got out of hand and Anya was caught in the crossfire."

"The goal was probably to injure so I'd be easier to kidnap," you say, snorting in amusement when Aizawa sighs at your words.

"Who apprehended the villain?" Bakugo asks, unable to find the name on the police report.

"No one did, but I went after them," you admit. "I almost had them but they slipped into the crowd and got away. I returned to check on Anya and then Aizawa arrived and whisked me away. I've been here since."

"You were stupid enough to go after your stalker?" Bakugo growls, eyes shooting up to glare at you. You open your mouth to respond, only to get cut off by him "You trying to get fucking killed or something?"

A huff escapes his lips when he feels Izuku elbow him harshly, and the two of them turn to face you when you breathe out a laugh.

"Or something," you mutter, earning a swat to the back of the head from Anya. You grab her hand and toss it into her lap, only to turn and be met with a disappointed look from Aizawa. You wilt under his gaze, sighing in defeat and motioning for him to continue.

"The plan is to send you two to a safehouse, still within the city, while Midoriya and I investigate," Aizawa explains, pulling out a scrap of paper and handing it to Bakugo. "That's the address. Unfortunately, you can't just disappear off the face of the earth until we catch the stalker. There's still public appearances and interviews that need to be done, but you need to be hidden during these outings, Bakugo. We fear that if the stalker catches wind of the fact that we involved Pros, that might drive them to do something even more drastic."

Bakugo grunts in acknowledgement, unfurling the scrap of paper and studying the address written on it before glancing at Aizawa. "Can I show this to the nerd?"

He nods in response, and Izuku takes a moment to also memorize the address before nodding. The paper is gone within a second, a tiny, controlled explosion reducing it to ashes. Your eyebrows raise with interest at the display, and Bakugo meets your gaze with a scowl. It deepens when you don't immediately cower from his stare.

"The two of you should get going," Aizawa notes, glancing at his watch before standing and tossing a set of keys to Bakugo. You stand as well, taking a moment to stretch before plucking your cell phone from the couch cushion. You turn to Anya, giving her a smug look that makes her groan.

"You should just go ahead and cancel the rest of my appointments for the week. It would be unwise for me to go out in public before coming up with a surefire way to stay safe when out and about," your words are said a little too happily, and you nearly glow with joy when Aizawa contemplates your words before ultimately nodding in agreement. Anya gives you a scathing look, her hand tightening around her phone as you grin. "Let me know who agrees to reschedule! I hope no one's too upset."

The snicker that leaves your lips draws an unwilling smile from almost everyone in the room, and you swoop in to steal a hug from Aizawa before coming to a stop in front of the Pros. There's a bright smile on your lips that makes Izuku blush, and Bakugo scoffs audibly when you give him another bow.

"It's an honor to meet you, Deku. Thank you for doing this."

"Please! Call me Midoriya," he sputters out, cheeks still tinged pink as you turn and face Bakugo. There's a twinkle in your eye when you meet his gaze, and he feels a spark of irritation when he realizes that you don't seem to be intimidated by him.

"Well Mr. Dynamight, shall we get going?"

Bakugo's annoyance only grows when you manage to keep up with his quick strides.

No words are exchanged as you traverse the street, and Bakugo makes sure to keep an eye out as he opens the door and ushers you into the passenger seat, his hand pushing your head down roughly to keep you from smacking it on the roof of the vehicle. You slide into the car smoothly, buckling your seat belt and glancing around as you wait for Bakugo to get in. Silence engulfs the two of you once he does, and Bakugo finds himself reaching for his phone to play some music and fill the stillness. He feels a blush crawling up his neck when one of your songs plays, the new one that Kaminari insisted on listening to the other night when he drove him home after drinks.

A smirk tugs at your lips but you don't say anything about it, thankfully, and he finds a song he likes and plays it before taking off down the road. You're quietly humming along to the song he's chosen as you look out the window, and it isn't until you're halfway to your newly assigned safe house that you speak.

"I'm not, you know?"

That's the only thing you say and Bakugo makes a confused noise before he can stop himself, his hands tightening around the steering wheel in annoyance when you let out an amused laugh.

"I'm not trying to get killed," you clarify, earning a derisive snort from Bakugo in return. "I have a hero license, I was just doing what I've always been taught to do. Apprehend the villain."

Your admission catches Bakugo off guard, and he can't help but throw you a surprised look when he finally comes to a red light.

"You're a hero?" he asks, his curiosity winning him over.

"Mhm," you reply absentmindedly, still looking out the window. "Technically. I attended U.A., believe it or not, but I wasn't in the hero course. Aizawa and some other teachers trained me and he managed to pull some strings in order to have me take the licensing exam in my third year. He said it was better to have it just in case. Between us, I think he got even more overprotective after Nemuri, Midnight, passed."

Bakugo remembers attending the funeral after All for One had been defeated. It had been a deceptively happy day, sun bright and shining as the students, staff, and other heroes gathered to pay their respects to the fallen. He remembers a student standing next to Aizawa, their hand in his as he held onto what was left in the battle: her mask.

"She was my legal guardian, but she made sure to leave me under the care of someone she trusted just in case something ever happened."

And it did, goes unsaid.

Bakugo's left with more questions than before, but he refuses to give into his curiosity and actually ask. It isn't long until the two of you arrive at yet another upscale building, and hum quietly to grab his attention once more.

"Can I have your hoodie?"

"What the fuck? No!" is his immediate reply. There's an unpleasant look on his face, lips twisted up in what seems to be a cross between disgust and offense. "Why the fuck would you even ask?"

You give him an unimpressed look, raising an eyebrow before holding your hand out. "Listen, call me paranoid if you want, but I think it'd be a good idea for me to hide my face as we enter the top secret safehouse."

Bakugo grumbles and curses as he slips off his sweater, pissed off at the fact that you were right. His anger only intensifies when he realizes that he didn't think about that first. You waste no time in slipping the sweater over your head, pulling the hood as far forward as it can go and slipping on a pair of sunglasses. It's only then that you slip out of the car, waiting for Bakugo to get out before heading towards the entrance.

The two of you head into the elevator, and when you reach out to press the correct button, you manage to catch a whiff of a sweet, smoky smell. You turn your head to the side as the doors close, lifting the collar to your nose to see if it came from the sweater or somewhere else.

"Are you sniffin' my fucking sweater?" Bakugo asks roughly, pulling your arm back down to your side. You let out an offended noise before wrenching out of his grasp, leaning against the wall and shooting him a withering look.

"I smelled something sweet and I was curious!" you defend yourself, tilting your head back slightly to look down at him. Bakugo feels his blood boil. "I can't believe someone like you smells so good."

"What's that supposed to mean!" he nearly yells, taking a step towards you. You don't deign to give him a response, instead slinking out from beside him when the elevator finally comes to a stop. There's no hesitation in your steps as you walk past various doors, finally coming to a stop at the end of the hallway and wiggling a key into the lock.

Bakugo trails in after you, locking the door and growling when he's met with a sweater to the face. There's an innocent smile on your face as you slip off your sunglasses, placing them down onto the coffee table before traipsing down the hallway. Bakugo starts his usual sweep around the space, making sure to send a text to Aizawa to let him know the two of you have arrived safely.

"Your bedroom is at the end of the hall," your voice calls out, earning a grunt in response. "Mine is to your left and the bathoom is across from my room. They already came and dropped our stuff off!"

Bakugo's eyes narrow when you walk back into the living room, a mass of fluff held in your arms. "What the hell is that?"

"This is Pickles!" you proclaim proudly, holding your arms out. There's a fluffy cat in your hands, and she lazily eyes Bakugo as she hangs in the air. Your smile falls when Pickles twists, jumping out from your hold and beelining towards Bakugo. "Pickles, no! I'm sorry, she's wary around strangers so I'd recommend backing away if you don't want your pants scratched."

Your words fade out towards the end of your statement, your jaw falling slack as you observe the way Pickles approaches Bakugo and proceeds to rub against him. She snakes in between his legs, meowing softly and pawing at his shoe as she waits for him to pay attention to her.

"You little attention whore," you whisper, your face twisting up in disbelief when Bakugo kneels down to pet her. He shoots you a smug smirk when she starts purring, and you feel your eye twitch when she lays down, exposing her belly. "She took forever to warm up to me. How did you do that?"

"I'm just the best," Bakugo replies cockily. "Even she knows that."

"Whatever, I'm going to take a nap. I can cook dinner later if you'd like," you say softly, reaching up to rub at your eyes.

"I can cook my own damn food," Bakugo snaps, his attention shifting to you. You breathe out a laugh.

"In that case, I think I'll turn in for the night. I'll leave my door slightly open for Pickles."

"Don't be a dumbass, you have to eat."

"I'll just get up early and cook breakfast," you shout, already disappearing from sight as you make your way to your room. "Good night Mr. Dynamight!"

"It's Bakugo," he grumbles under his breath as you duck into your room. A laugh is all he gets in response, and your room goes dark as you finally settle into bed. His attention is caught by small meow, and he sighs before picking Pickles up and petting her. She curls up against his chest, swatting at his hand and making a pleased noise when she manages to grasp it between two of her paws. He looks down at the cat, raising a brow when she decides to start gnawing on his finger.

"Just you and me hairball."

The two of you fall into an admittedly easy routine throughout the rest of the week.

Bakugo's surprised by how easy this assignment has been. He's used to stubborn celebrities demanding to be let out, complaining and whining and overall just annoying him until he snaps and curses them out. However, you're a quiet housemate, waking up early to cook breakfast for the two of you before retreating to your room for the rest of the day or lounging on the couch with Pickles. Bakugo takes it upon himself to cook dinner for the two of you, and whoever is in charge of lunch is always decided with a coin toss. He loses more often than you do.

Pickles becomes a frequent presence as well, and sometimes he wakes up to see the cat curled up peacefully on the pillow next to him. How she gets into his room, he doesn't know. When he emerges from his room in the morning with her gathered in his arms, you apologize profusely, your stare lingering on the way his lips curl up into a tiny smile when you take her from him.

You inform Bakugo early on in the week that Anya has listened to you, canceling all of your prior engagements and sending you an updated schedule for the next week. He squints when you hold your hand out, cell phone in hand as you prompt him to take it.

"Mr. Dynamight, give me your number."

"It's Bakugo," he grumbles, pushing your hand away from him. "And why the hell would I do that?"

"So I can send you the schedule," you huff, extending your arm once again. He obliges reluctantly, purposefully taking his time in an attempt to annoy you. You don't react to his provocation, instead smiling sweetly at him when he hands your phone back and sending him the file.

When you begin to send him memes, he refuses to acknowledge you for the day.

The two of you spend days successfully planning how to keep you safe during your public appearances, your combined experience making the task easier than you thought it'd be. Your first week back out in public goes well, and even though you know better than to let your guard down, the knowledge that Pro Hero Dynamight is watching you from a distance helps to soothe your nerves. Your routine remains the same for the following week, during which there is an incident, but it turns out to be an overexcited fan. You then beg and beg Anya to book less appearances until she gets fed up with your fake crying.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you hate your job," Bakugo mutters one evening while making dinner. "You keep brushing off all your stupid engagements and you won't have a fucking career to go back to."

"Good thing you know better," you say playfully, your eyes glinting with mischief as you approach him. Your arm brushes against his back as you peek around him, your hand darting out to grab a slice of the strawberries he's cutting up to eat with lunch. He's too slow to stop you, not that he really tries to.

He finds that his original irritation towards the assignment has faded, and even though he misses being out on patrol and taking down bad guys, he thinks that this mission isn't the worst. Or maybe it's because of you. It takes Bakugo weeks to admit to himself that you're not as bad as he thought you'd be. In fact, you're not anything like what he expected you to be, all sly smiles and snarky words and casual touches that he's too embarrassed to reciprocate. But he doesn't like you, no, he doesn't.

You like to think he's getting used to your presence, but his occasional aloofness makes you think otherwise. There's a part of you, the side that's trying to ignore the reason that resulted in being assigned to a safe house in the first place, that enjoys your time spent with Bakugo. You like the way he's so easy to rile up, the way he carefully plates food for both of you, and the way he smiles when Pickles demands his attention. You think that maybe, just maybe, you might like him, even if everything else about his attitude makes you think he doesn't even tolerate you.

But you're too preoccupied with your ongoing case to really sit with your thoughts and try to sort out your feelings.

Updates from Aizawa and Midoriya are few and far between, and although you and Bakugo have fallen into a comfortable routine, you can tell that he's getting fed up with the situation. His restlessness is obvious, especially with the news talking nonstop about his sudden disappearance and speculating on the reasons why Dynamight might've stopped doing his duty as a hero.

"How long do you think this will continue?" you ask one night, sneaking a peek at him and waiting for his snarky reply.

"I dunno," he responds, sounding defeated. He sighs heavily and turns the television off.

He watches as you purse your lips and reach for his hand, pausing when he instinctively pulls away. There's a brief pause before you take a deep breath and let your hand fall on the sofa. He glances at you, eyes scanning your face as you keep staring at the blank screen, and lets his head fall back and eyes fall shut as he mentally berates himself for his actions. You head off to bed soon after, and Bakugo remains there for the rest of the night.

The next morning is quieter than usual, and the two of you are eating breakfast when there's a knock on the door. You waste no time in prancing to the entrance, reaching for the doorknob before a large hand grabs your wrist.

"Don't open the fucking door," he hisses, pulling your hand down. You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head in an innocent manner.

"Why not? It's only Midoriya."

"What?"

You reach over and open the door with your other hand, only to be met with a sunny smile from none other than Pro Hero Deku.

"Kacchan!" he exclaims, brightening up even more at the sight of his childhood friend. "I'm here to swap."

"What?" Bakugo bites out again. Midoriya's smile falters.

"Uh, swap. Places, I mean," he explains, smiling when he looks back at you. "I thought you said he asked?"

"Asked what?" Bakugo growls, his hand tighetning slightly around your arm.

"Yeah! He did," you respond just as cheerily. Bakugo goes ignored.

"Hey! Listen to me when I fucking talk to ya!"

"Come on in, we were just eating breakfast. Would you like any?" you ask. Midoriya shakes his head and you promptly wiggle your arm out of Bakugo's grasp and usher them into the living room.

"What is the shitty nerd doing here?" Bakugo yells, fed up with the situation.

"He's here to take your spot! Remember, Mr. Dynamight ?"

"I already told you, it's Bakugo," he snarls, eyes narrowing as they fall onto you. Your smile is unfaltering and equally as sunny as Izuku's was when he first arrived. He spares a glace at the other Pro Hero in the room, taking note of the way he nervously wrings his hands as he studies the two of you. He doesn't excuse himself before taking ahold of your arm once again, dragging you down the hallway and into his room before slamming the door.

You take a moment to glance around his room, your eyes narrowing when you spot Pickles curled up on his bed, before finally meeting his eyes. There's a fire in his eyes that you've only seen before when he's mid-battle, reserved for situations where his anger is at an all time high. You meet his gaze evenly, and he seems to calm down slightly when make a questioning noise.

"What the fuck was all that about?" he asks harshly, his voice low in order to not be overheard. The walls are thin, he knows this.

"I thought you'd like to return to your hero duties," you say coolly. "Y'know, patrolling and beating up baddies."

"Listen, when I agree to a job I don't plan on doing it half-assed," he retorts. He wonders if your sudden encouragement for him to leave has to do with his actions night before… and the rest of the week. He knows it does. "You're stuck with me, sweetheart, whether you like it or not. So get out there and tell Deku that you changed your mind and that I'll be seeing this task until the very end."

You don't move for a few seconds, and Bakugo's eyebrows furrow in confusion until he realizes the way you bashfully averted your gaze at the nickname. The corner of his lip tugs up into a smirk, but he doesn't get the chance to comment on it before you start speaking.

"Your reputation and ranking are tanking because of this and it's not very fair to you. Besides, nothing has happened in weeks. No letters, no gifts, no suspicious activity. I'm sure it'd be fine to switch spots with Midoriya for a couple of days. And I thought you were getting a little tired of staying in here all day. Maybe getting out and seeing your friends would do you some good."

Bakugo takes a deep breath before closing his eyes. "I already told you, I'm not leaving you until this assignment is done. Go out there, and tell Deku you changed your fucking mind."

"Yeah, about that," you say, your tone of voice causing Bakugo's eyes to fly open. There's impish smile on your face, and Bakugo feels a sense of foreboding as you speak your next words. "I might've told him that you requested the swap. So really, it's you that has to go out there and tell him you changed your mind."

You laugh and head back to the living room before Bakugo can yell at you, smiling softly at Midoriya before heading to the kitchen to clean up the abandoned plates.

Bakugo groans and begrudgingly heads to the living room, dragging Izuku by his collar and leading him to the front door.

He shuts the door in his face and provides no explanation.

Things are different after that.

Bakugo makes a bigger effort to interact with you, spending move evenings by your side instead of keeping his distance. Slowly but surely you begin to notice, and you can't help but wonder if this has anything to do with your discussion in his room the previous week.

You try not to show that you're flustered when the two of you begin to cook together instead of taking turns, and you have to admit that sharing the kitchen with Bakugo is intimate in a way you never knew cooking with somebody else could be. His movements are always fluid, never hesitant, and you find that you fall into a groove when you work alongside him.

The space is full of teasing and grumbling as well, and you find that fleeting touches between the two of you start to become more common. There's the occassional hip check when he tries to steal a piece of whatever you're chopping, and the occasional hand skimming your lower back when he tries to get past you in order to reach something. You tend to go rigid under his touch, and Bakugo finds that he starts doing it a little more often in order to hear the way your breath hitches when his fingertips skim over your shirt. He's thinks he likes you.

You’ve had the time to sit with your feelings, all the swirling uncertainty and aching that you feel weighing down on your heart when you see Bakugo present you with a new dish or scoop Pickles up when she won't stop pawing at his leg. Bakugo Katsuki is so perfectly imperfect, and you think that there's no one in the world who is privileged enough to get to see every single side of him that he has unintentionally and intentionally bared for you to see in your short time living together. You find that it is much easier to come to the conclusion that yes, you do like him. You think you might even love him.

You don't get the chance to wonder if he likes you as well before it all goes to hell.

It's a few days later, on a sunny Wednesday, that you finally come face to face with your stalker.

"Alright, you have one more meeting after this and then we can get you back home," Anya says, hurrying you you of the building you were in and towards the car. You mumble something under your breath, holding your sweater tightly to your body to protect yourself against the afternoon chill. Anya stops by your side when you stumble to a halt, and you quickly grab onto her when you hear something approaching quickly. "What's going on?"

You waste no time in pulling her back, something— someone, you vaguely think— crashing into the spot where you had just been standing.

"What the fuck?" Anya whispers, taking in the sight before you. There's a man standing in front of you, close to your age and surrounding by dark tendrils. His sharp, green eyes slide from Anya to you, and he breaks out into a smile before taking a step forward. Anya places herself in front of you, blocking you from his view and earning a harsh glare from the man. "Get the hell away from us."

You quickly scan your surroundings for any sign of Bakugo, and even though you know he's close by, you can't help but feel a little anxious when he doesn't immediately show up. A movement in your peripheral catches your attention, and you tighten your hold on Anya and dive out of the way before one of the dark tendrils shoots out and incapacitates her. The two of you crash into the side of the car, and you waste no time in opening the door and shoving her inside.

"Stay there!" you tell her, motioning for her to stop trying to open the door.

"No!" she argues, her shouts muffled by the window. "What about you?"

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just trust me," you say reassuringly. Anya hesitates before nodding, her hands falling to her side.

"Stay safe. You better not get fucking hurt!"

You nod once, taking a glance to see your stalker getting closer before you take off in a sprint in the direction you know Bakugo is. You whip your phone out, sending quick 'SOS' to Aizawa before turning a corner. You don't bother sending your location, knowing he's probably been tracking you for years.

The sound of footsteps following you only spurs you on, and you try to think of a game plan to deal with the situation in a safe manner before you feel something wrap around your wrist. You come to a sudden stop when the tendril pulls you back, and you let out a cry when you stumble and fall to the ground, your knees knocking harshly against the concrete.

"I've been looking for you for so long," the man breathes, kneeling down to take your hand in his. You resist the urge to tear it away from him, conscious of the way the tendril seems to loosen when you relax. "I finally found you, we can finally be together."

You take a moment to study him, trying to gather your thoughts before responding. Your voice is light as you speak, and you lean forwards slightly in an attempt to make it seem like you're giving in. "We can. But you're hurting me, you know? You're quite strong, I can't believe I didn't realize it soon."

He takes the bait, retracting the tendril and almost glowing at the words that leave your lips. His lips part to respond and you waste no time in head butting him hard enough to send him sprawling. You hop to your feet, stumbling briefly when your bruised knees almost give out, but you manage to keep your balance and dodge the tendril your stalker attacks with.

"You bitch!" he screams, earning an eye roll from you as he tries to grab ahold of you once more. "I don't know why you're doing this when it's clear we're meant to be together!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you say under your breath, lunging forwards to land a hit. He defends poorly, and you think that his strange obsession with you has come in handy when he refuses to strike back in fear of hurting you.

When Bakugo lands on the sidewalk in front of you mere seconds later, he's met with the sight of your stalker face down on the ground, unconscious and with hands creatively tied behind his back with your sweater as you stare at him smugly. A tired laugh leaves Bakugo's lips and he wastes no time in removing the sweater, slapping on a pair of quirk canceling handcuff onto your stalker and moving to lean him up against the building behind you.

"Took you long enough," you chirp, earning a glare from Bakugo.

"I can't believe you were stupid enough to go after your stalker," he states, his words reminiscent of the ones he said when he first met you. "Actually, scratch that. Yeah, I fucking can."

"Well it's not like you were doing anything," you retort, crossing your arms. "Where were you?"

"I had it under control," he barks, motioning to the area around you. You take note of Midoriya standing on a rooftop, a couple of detectives scattered down the street as they wait for Bakugo's all clear.

"Oh!"

"What happened here?"

You turn when you see Aizawa approaching, eyes tired but alert as they scan you for injuries. You beam at him, pointing towards the unsconscious criminal before gesturing to yourself to show that you're fine, other than your bruised knees. "See! I told you I could handle myself."

"Yes, I suppose you did," is all he says before turning to Bakugo. He's caught off guard when Aizawa bows deeply. "I'm eternally thankful, Bakugo. You did a great job, even if it turned out we didn't need your help after all."

The last statement is said mockingly, and you pout when Aizawa shoots you a pointed look. You ignore it in favor of turning to Bakugo, bowing as well.

"I already told you, don't gimme that shit," he spits out, crossing his arms when you straighten up and give him a shit-eating grin.

"I just wanted to give you my thanks," you say, a teasing lilt to your voice as you take a step forward. Aizawa grunts before walking away, shaking his head as he goes. "Although I suppose that there are other—"

"You're safe!"

Anya's screams interrupt you, and you give Bakugo an apologetic look as she pulls you away, fussing over you and bending down to clean off your knees. You smile fondly as she shoves a water bottle into your hand, stealing one last glance at Bakugo before he's whisked away by the detectives to make a statement.

A week passes and Bakugo hasn't stopped thinking about you.

He wonders how often he'd get to see you now that he's not watching over you, grimacing when he realizes that he'd probably only see you at hero galas and community fundraisers that might overlap with both of your schedules. The two of you have exchanged a few messages since the mission ended, lot of memes being sent from your end that make Bakugo laugh, not that he'd ever admit it.

He's wondering if he should build up the courage to be more direct with you, to possibly follow up on how you could thank him and then ask you out on a date when he hears a knock on his door.

"Hey!" you greet him when he opens the door, bright smile on your face as you shove a bag into his hands. "I hope you don't mind but I got your address form Aizawa. I was thinking I could cook you dinner, you know, as a thank you."

His jaw is hanging as he takes you in, and you snicker when he doesn't respond.

"Hey, what's wrong? Pickles got your tongue?" you laugh at your own joke, and Bekugo snaps his jaw shut at the words, ushering you in and shutting the door behind you.

"That was a shitty joke."

"Eh, can't expect everyone to get my sense of humor."

He shakes his head fondly as he follows you into his kitchen, and you take the bag you previously pushed into his arms and place it on the counter. You look at him expectantly raising an eyebrow teasingly as he takes a step closer.

"So this dinner,” he starts, tone casual as he drinks you in. “Is it a date?"

"Do you want it to be?" you respond. Your voice is quiet and light, and he finds himself crowding you against the counter, arms on either side of you as he cages you in. You're vaguely reminded of the time the two of you argued in his room at the safe house, the only difference being the look in his eyes. Where there was anger that day, this time you see nothing but an unfamiliar tenderness, eyes warm as he mulls his answer over.

"Yeah," he says roughly, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you look at him in mild surprise. "I do want it to be."

“I didn’t think you’d admit it,” you retort. The smile he receives in return is almost blinding, but he feels that familiar sense of foreboding when you suddenly give him a coy look and wrap your arms around his neck.

"So... does this mean I'm... Mrs. Dynamight?" you ask innocently.

"Shut the fuck up," he groans before finally leaning down to silence your giggles with a kiss.

ty for reading <3

[uramakimochi]

GALA COUPLE

Damian Wayne x Reader

Art credit to 02png

SUMMARY: Damian is forced to go to a gala and asks you, his girlfriend, to be his date. (3.6k words)

WARNINGS: Nothing, just fluff. Damian is aged up, like in his 20s, but i write cute stories, i don't do it to sexualize him so i see nothing wrong with this leave me alone. First time writing for Damian so i hope he's not ooc. FEM!R but no use of Y/n. Use of petnames. R is a bit shy and sweet for this story.

LISTEN TO 'LOVE STORY' BY INDILA

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

"No"

"It's decided now"

"I don't want to come"

"You're 20 Damian, don't start throwing tantrums like a child"

"Since i am, in fact, an adult i am perfectly capable of making decisions on my own and one of these is not coming to the gala"

"Do you have anything else to do?"

"Yes-"

"That doesn't involve staying at home to cuddle your pets?"

Damian remained silent and Bruce smirked knowing he won that little battle as he walked down the stairs to the Bat-Cave, followed by his youngest son.

"Everyone else will be there too, so i forbid you to be the only one who is not going show up" Bruce continued and Damian threw his head back with an exasperated groan.

When they both arrived at the cave, they saw that Dick, Cassandra and Duke were also there, all three of them in sports clothes, training while father and son were busy arguing.

"Is everything okay?" Dick asked when he noticed the pout on Damian's lips (even though he always had a frown on his face, but this time he looked more annoyed than usual).

Bruce waved a hand, going to sit in front of the Bat-Computer. "I'm forcing Damian to come to the gala on Friday. Nothing new"

Dick smiled amusedly and after standing up from the push-ups he was doing, he passed the back of his hand over his forehead to wipe it away from the sweat and in the meantime Cass and Duke also stopped their training to join the conversation.

"Aw come on, little D, it'll be fun!"

Damian crossed his arms and glared at him.

"You never liked balls either, Richard"

"We're all used to it. You just have to be nice and elegant and greet all the guests, nothing too complicated right?" the older one retorted and the other rolled his eyes. He hated greeting guests.

Then it was Duke's turn to try to convince him.

"At least this time we will all be together" he continued with a soft, shy smile. "It would be a shame if you were the only one absent"

Damian remained silent and although his sharp gaze could have cut a fly in two at that moment, Duke still noticed his eyes soften, if only slightly. Cass raised a hand.

"Steph and i are only going for the food. Her mostly for the alcohol. And Jason just to talk bad about rich people. Do you think those are good enough reasons for you?"

Bruce turned in his chair to give the girl an unimpressed look and Duke looked down sheepishly, while Dick chuckled. Damian sighed and without saying anything he walked away from the cave and locked himself in his room, knowing that he couldn't back out now.

Meanwhile, you were busy at your house baking cookies for your family when you suddenly heard the phone ring and when you glanced to see who it was, you stopped your work to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hello beloved"

You couldn't stop the smile from crossing your lips when you heard his voice on the other end of the phone.

"Hi Dami. You doing okay?"

Damian nodded, but since you couldn't see him he just hummed.

"Mh. What about you?"

"I'm making cookies for my parents" you replied, clutching the phone between your shoulder and ear to continue rolling out the dough as you spoke to him. "If you want i can leave some for you for when you come here"

Damian smiled, letting himself sit on the edge of the bed.

"You are always kind beloved. I don't think i deserve you"

"Well i think you do" you replied with a small laugh that made his heart beat faster.

And even though Damian would have loved to stay and talk on the phone with you until the battery died, he thought back to the main reason he had called you.

"Listen, i have to tell you something..." he sighed, running a hand over his face.

"Is everything okay? Did something happen?" you asked him almost immediately.

Another reason why Damian loved you was the fact that you always worried about him, no matter what it was or how serious it was. And it didn't matter how much he insisted that there was no need for you to worry about him. He knew you would never put yourself first.

"Nothing serious, but..."

The more Damian thought about what he had to tell you, the more anger and irritation rose in his body. He let out a grunt and flopped back, lying perpendicular to the mattress and with his green eyes fixed on the white ceiling.

"I know we were supposed to meet this friday, but my father forced me and my siblings to go to a charity gala" he said in one breath.

...

"Oh" you replied in a soft voice. "That's okay, no problem"

Damian closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, more irritated than ever. Damn it, he knew it. He promised you that you would spend the evening together and now he had broken your heart. Stupid Bruce. Stupid gala.

"I'm sorry" Damian muttered. "If it were up to me i wouldn't go, but you know what my father is like and-"

"Dami, it's okay" you interrupted, smiling reassuringly, even though he couldn't see it. "I'm not upset, really. Attending these events is your family's duty. I'm just sorry that you don't want to go"

An angel. You were an angel, there was no other explanation for him. You were always so sweet and understanding, you never got angry. Damian still didn't know what good he had done to make a girl like you part of his life.

But then, suddenly an idea came to him. A bright idea. And before he could stop his tongue the words slipped from his lips.

"Come with me"

Both you and him were silent for a few seconds, while Damian only heard the sound of the kitchen tools you were using in preparing the cookies.

"You mean..." you murmured slowly, stopping what you were doing. "At the ball?"

"Yes" he replied without hesitation. "Come with me to the ball as my date"

Damian heard you let out a small sigh and his heart sank a little. Had it been a stupid idea? Of course, he had to imagine it.

"I don't know, Dami..." you mumbled in an uncertain tone. "All those rich people like you, who knows how they would look at someone like me"

"Are you saying that i'm as obnoxious and spoiled as those people and that i would look down on you with disgust?" he retorted with a smirk, knowing that it wasn't your intention to offend him and that your insecurities were speaking for you.

"N-No, that's not what i meant! I'm sorry" you replied quickly, regretfully.

"It's okay beloved"

You sat on one of the chairs at the table, staring at the cookie dough spread out along the table, but with your head now somewhere else entirely.

"It's just that... I'm not rich, i'm not famous, no one knows me except you. I've never been to a gala, i don't know what it's like. It's not really my scene, you know?"

Damian nodded, but remained silent, sensing that you wanted to say something else.

"I don't want to make a bad impression!" you sighed anxiously. "I mean, what do you talk about at a gala? What if someone asks me something that i can't answer? No, more importantly, how do you even dress at a gala?? I don't think i have suitable clothes in my closet, i'll have to buy new ones. Oh my god but what if i look like an idiot then?? No wait, you said your father and siblings will be there too, right? So that means i'll have to meet your family, right?? What if they think i'm bad because we never told them about our relationship?? Your father is Bruce Wayne, for god's sake, how the hell am i supposed to act around THE Bruce Wayne??"

"My love, please breathe" Damian interrupted you with a light laugh. "You're going to faint"

You did as he told you and took a deep breath, but your heart was still beating fast with anxiety, even though the gala was in a few days.

"Sorry, i'm just a little nervous" you murmured with a nervous smile. "You caught me a little off guard with this request of yours, you know Damian? Haha"

"Look, i know you're scared and i don't blame you. It was selfish of me to ask you this" Damian said calmly. "I asked you to come with me just to keep me company, because i know i would spend a more than pleasant evening with you. It is not my intention to make you do something that you are not comfortable with, so you are free to refuse if you don't feel like it"

"Wouldn't you be upset if i said no?" you asked shyly.

"No my beloved"

Silence fell again as you pondered what to do. Damian expected your refusal, but he wasn't going to get angry about it. But then...

"I'll come"

Damian slowly sat up, not believing those words. "You'll come?"

"Yes. I suppose i'll try the experience of living a gala with you. And i'll consider whether it is as bad as you claim"

He chuckled lightheartedly.

"You don't have to accept if you don't want to do it"

"I know, but i want to. Because i love you and i want to be with you"

Damian believed that the famous 'butterflies in your stomach' were just something you saw in romantic teen movies (that you forced him to watch). But he had to change his mind when for the first time in the course of your relationship he heard those three words slip from your lips like sweet musical notes of a Beethoven symphony. And realizing that every time you said "I love you" it was aimed at him, made him prouder than ever. He would never get tired of hearing those words. Never.

"I love you too beloved. I'm glad you're coming. Thank you" he replied softly. "And you don't have to worry about anything. You just have to be yourself and people will like you as much as i do. And if they can't appreciate your beauty, both external and internal, then they are just blind idiots"

You giggled, feeling your cheeks heat up and he continued.

"It doesn't matter what you wear, because you will always be beautiful in my eyes. Even if you were to arrive with a garbage bag on your head, to me you would still be the most beautiful person in the entire ballroom. In fact in all Gotham. And in all world. And about my family, leave it to me. I'm the one who didn't inform them about our relationship, if they have anything to say, i'll talk to them. Okay?"

You nodded with a relieved smile feeling your heart still beating, this time not from anxiety but from affection towards your boyfriend and his words, which never failed to console you.

"Okay. Thank you so much Dami. For everything"

"It's nothing, my love. See you on Friday evening then?"

"I can't wait"

Damian just wanted to leave. It had barely been an hour at that stupid gala and he already wanted to run away to go home. To you.

That was supposed to be your evening together. Right now he was supposed to be with you, lying on the couch cuddling with Titus and Alfred the cat, while you watched yet another romantic comedy that he hated and eating takeout and other snacks and sweets.

Not in the middle of a ballroom full of people he didn't even know and who thought they were the most beautiful and intelligent just because they had a lot of money and who he was forced to welcome and get to know because of his father.

But while you weren't around, at least his siblings were there to be as bored as he was and that was a good thing, right? Or wasn't it?

"Ugh, do you guys think there's anything on the buffet that has any caffeine in it? I have work to do as soon as we get home" Tim muttered as he stared in disgust at the glass of wine in his hand after he'd only had one small sip.

"No Tim" all the other siblings chorused.

"You know, i know it's bad to say this but i wouldn't mind if some criminal decided to interrupt the party, like right now. It would definitely be more interesting than all this" Jason muttered boredly, putting his hands in his pockets and leaning back against the wall, while Steph raised a hand and moaned a tipsy "Agree".

"You're behaving like children" Barbara then interjected, crossing her arms and glaring at the two. "Try to act as your real age"

"Yeah, aren't you happy that at least we're all here?" Dick continued in his typical big brother tone (But Duke was the only one who nodded slightly, while the others looked at him unimpressed).

"At least the food is good" continued Cassandra.

She delicately took the last canapé from her plate with two fingers and then put it in her mouth and swallowed it without even chewing it. Then she wiped her mouth with a napkin and Tim gave her a strange look.

"How many of those have you already eaten?" he murmured, pointing to the empty plate, almost afraid to know the answer.

Meanwhile, Duke noticed Damian's gaze fixed on the crowd and his foot tapping repeatedly on the floor.

"Are you alright Damian?"

Those words attracted the attention of the other siblings who focused their eyes on the youngest.

"Yeah you're actually quieter than usual tonight Demon Spawn, it's not like you" Jason replied with a smirk. "You still haven't complained about any old lady pulling your cheeks and saying you reminded her of her grandson or-"

As Jason spoke he approached Damian and reached out to his thin face, then pinched his cheek between his thumb and forefinger and pulled lightly. Damian's gaze immediately changed to an angry expression and he raised a hand to make the older one pull away with a slap.

"Keep your filthy hands off of me Todd!" he said nervously, but the other only chuckled.

Damian crossed his arms again and glared at everyone present, annoyed by all the attention that was on him. "Stop looking at me like that. I'm just waiting"

"Waiting... For what, exactly?" Dick asked tilting his head.

But Damian didn't answer and looked back at the entrance to the ballroom, even more frowning than before, while the others exchanged a confused look, not used to his vagueness. And although from the outside he seemed like the usual gruff and grumpy Damian, in reality he was nothing more than a bundle of nerves on the inside.

Maybe he shouldn't have sent Alfred to pick you up at home and take you to the ball. It would have been better if he had come himself, right? What if you changed your mind at the last moment and never came? Now he understood how you had felt a few days ago with him. He shouldn't have put all that pressure on you to attend the gala. You probably hated him now and-

"Hold up, who the hell is that??"

Stephanie's voice rang out among the siblings even before his gaze could register the figure that had just entered the ballroom.

Damian's eyes widened when he finally saw you right there in flesh and bones, a few meters away from him, standing with shy eyes and trembling hands in the middle of that sea of people who you were afraid were staring at you as if you were a monster, when in reality they were just busy enjoying the party.

But where you considered yourself a monster, Damian on the other hand, had so many words to describe you that at that moment they were spinning in his head like a tornado. Beautiful, breathtaking, enchanting. Ethereal.

All of Bruce's children had their eyes fixed on you: some confused like Jason and Tim because they had no idea who you were, others surprised like Steph, Duke and Cass because they had no idea who you were either and others both confused and surprised like Dick when he saw Damian suddenly walk away from them without saying anything, leaving them there.

"Damian, where are you going?"

But the other ignored him again and soon after, after having nimbly dodged all the guests who suddenly seemed to have become his worst obstacle to overcome, he found himself in front of you.

"Beloved" he called softly and you jerked your head up to look at him, taken aback.

"Oh! H-Hi Dami"

Before he could control himself, he reached his hands towards yours, squeezing them tightly. You looked at him awkwardly, knowing he could probably feel how sweaty they were from anxiety, but if he noticed, he didn't comment anything about it.

"You came" he said and you gave him a small shy smile.

"You thought i had changed my mind? You asked me to come, didn't you?"

He smiled back and your heart flipped at the sight. He was so handsome, so elegant. His dark, glowing skin, his clear bright eyes, his soft raven hair, his warm smile.

You really wanted to just stand there and watch him for hours, when your gaze suddenly fell on the small group of people behind him who were looking at you with more than shocked faces, every single one of them.

"Um, are those your siblings?" you asked shyly and he turned to see where you were looking.

He gave a small sigh and nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. But you don't have to be afraid of them. They're all just a bunch of idiots"

"Be nice" you gave him a small tap on the shoulder, then looked around. "Is your father somewhere here?"

"He's probably busy talking to all the other guests" he shrugged indifferently. "The 'advantage', if you want to call it that, of being Bruce Wayne. I'll introduce you later"

Suddenly a sweet melody echoed throughout the room and when you moved your eyes to see where the music was coming from you saw that the orchestra (you hadn't even noticed them when you entered) had started to play a slow song. Couples formed around you, joined hands and began to dance, more and more of them filling the dance floor.

You and Damian exchanged a look and he gave you a small, tight-lipped smile, before taking a small step back and offering you a hand.

"Will you grant me the honor of dancing with you, my beloved?"

And without hesitation you gently placed your hand on his palm.

"I'd love to"

He lifted it to bring it to his lips, kissing the back of it delicately and then holding it in his and making you come closer to him, so that he could place his other hand on your hip, while yours went to rest on his thin but firm shoulder. You began to sway side to side slowly, following the sweet melody of that romantic music and you looked into each other's eyes, full of the love and devotion you felt towards each other.

"You don't have to do this, you know?" you murmured softly, knowing that Damian wasn't used to showing your level of intimacy in front of an audience, especially one as large as a gala and in front of his family.

"If i didn't want to i wouldn't have asked you, you know me" he replied and you softly nodded.

"I do"

You continued to dance and while you couldn't take your eyes off Damian's, soon everything and everyone around you disappeared. There were only you, him and the music that accompanied your dance.

"We can leave whenever you want" he continued then and you looked at him slightly confused. "If at any point you don't feel comfortable, just say the word and i'll take you home"

"I know you would" you smiled and turned your face to rest your temple against his shoulder, letting him pull you further into his body. "But i think i'll be fine. I like being here and dancing with you"

"Me too beloved"

Damian smiled and tilted his face to rub his cheek against the top of your head and you closed your eyes, enoying the warmth of his body against yours, cradled by the music and the feeling of his tapered hands on your body.

And while you two were now lost in your enchanted world, certain siblings were staring at you shamelessly as if they had just made the greatest discovery in the world.

"They're too close to be just friends, aren't they?" Jason asked and Tim and Cass nodded slowly without saying anything.

"So that's why he seemed so strange earlier. Who would have thought Damian had a girlfriend?" Duke asked aloud with a tender smile, still shocked, but happy for him nonetheless.

Dick, Barbara, and Stephanie were looking at the two of you side by side with puckered lips, shining eyes, and clasped hands, as if they had just seen the cutest thing in the world.

"Aw Little D has now become Big D" Dick murmured, wiping away a fake tear. "I'm so proud of him. I mean, i'm upset that he didn't tell us anything, but i'm still proud of him"

"She's so sweet~" Steph cooed, squeezing Barbara's hand, who nodded. "I wonder how she managed to fall in love with someone like Damian, but love is love right?"

"They're so cute dancing together~" the redhead continued, then took out her phone and opened the camera. "I absolutely have to take a photo of this"

And while the group was still busy looking at you and Damian, Bruce suddenly appeared next to them, also with his eyes fixed on you.

"Are those two Damian and his girlfriend?" he asked curiously the others nodded simultaneously.

Bruce smiled softly.

"They're cute"

[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | series masterlist scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella