Please Please Please I Beg Of You To Make Sero Head Canons With A Small Mix Of Everything (I Love Him

No because I need you to PLS make a Tamaki (mha) x metal head reader headcanons!! IM DYING TO SEE ONE especially from how u write ur story’s :3

BYE!!

ANONN sosorry it took me so long to fulfill this request! yesyesyes absolutely THIS IS SUCH A GOOD IDEA!! THANK YOU!!

𝄞 ── headbanging 101

pairings : tamaki a. x metalhead!reader

warnings : none!

a/n : reader is neuutraall!!

➤ masterlist!

About time! Slipknot’s hosting a tour and is coming to town, and your finger is hovering over your touchpad, ready to click the button you have been saving up for. This is my moment!

“Is that… a concert…?” A soft voice called from behind, shy and timid, almost hesitant to ask. You swerved your body to the table behind you, where Tamaki sat, fidgeting along his hair while his eyes immediately darted to the table. You smiled, nodding fervently. “Mhm! Slipknot’s touring here!!” 

His eyes glanced to the laptop screen again, registering the faces of the band members, covered with inhuman-like-masks. “Oh… th-that’s the band?” He asked again, his tone cautious, almost like he’s scared to make you offended.

You snickered, turning your head briefly to look at your laptop before going back to him. “It’s just masks, but their songs are really good, Tamaki, you should give them a listen!”

Tamaki pondered for a moment, chewing softly on his bottom lip before he shook his head. “I don’t really… listen to metal,” You snickered as you rolled your eyes, waving your hands dismissively. “Don’t really, right? So you’ll listen to it?” You grinned, wiggling your eyebrows.

The raven haired boy pursed his lips as he thought for a moment, before he could even form a single thought, you perked up. “What if I make you a small playlist!” 

“...Playlist? …F-for me..?” 

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips at his seemingly anticipated answer. “Mhm!” You gasped, another idea popping into your head, “As a trade, you’ll introduce me to the songs you listen to!” 

And for once, he shyly looked into your eyes. His smile was small, almost appreciative, adoring yours. He huffed a small, shy chuckle as he nodded. “O-okay,” 

“B-but..!! Please don’t put songs that are… too hard..” He added, awkwardly requesting his wishes. You smiled, nodding as you held a thumb up to him, “I’ll give you some baby level metals, Tama” You reassured, snickering. He looked away, a tiny smile dancing upon his lips. 

Tamaki first nervously fidgeted the volume buttons on his phone while he debated on whether or not he wanted to play metal songs on his headphones.

But as he was still debating whether or not, his finger nervously taps on his phone, and accidentally played a song.

Got startled like… “AH!” as he jumps from his bed, cowering from his phone like a cat.

Almost groaned, muttering stuff like "Ugh... this is so loud.."

BUT THEN he hears the guitars playing, and boy did that hook him up.

He loved hearing the way the guitars and the drums would correspond to each other, and sounded like they were both a dance, swerving through the dancefloor in harmony.

Without him realizing, he started bobbing his head to the songs you had put into the playlist, and clicked the like button to save some.

Sure, some songs you had put weren't really to his liking, they felt messy and loud, but most of them were a newfound gold to his ears.

Snuff by Slipknot became one of his first favorites, along with a rather contrasting one, Throne by Bring Me The Horizon.

Two days later, he approached you and fidgeted with his fingers, biting his lip slowly before he softly spoke up; "D-do you have... any other songs...?" All while his eyes trained to his shoes, while his toes curled and uncurled nervously inside it.

You smiled, bending down to meet his gaze. "You liked the songs?"

He nodded softly, pulling his hair down to cover his reddening face, he muttered softly, "Y-yea... I guess..." while swaying his body left and right.

dworkism | do not repost!

➤ masterlist!

can you pretty please write something based on the song Would You Fall in Love With Me Again from Epic? I was thinking like, barbarian bakugo but he went to war or somethin’ and finally gets home to his wife?

the village gates loomed in the distance, barely visible through the morning mist. the scent of rain and blood clung to the air, but for the first time in years, katsuki bakugo paid it no mind. his fingers twitched at his side, the leather of his armor worn from war. his sword, heavy as the burdens he carried, hung loosely at his hip.

he had returned. but would she still want him?

his steps slowed as he neared the familiar path leading to their home. it was still there—unchanged, untouched as if time had waited for him. the wooden beams, the carved symbols of protection along the frame, the worn stone path leading to the door. a home he had built with his own hands.

a home he feared he no longer belonged in.

the door creaked open before he could knock.

“katsuki?”

there she stood. his wife. his love. the woman he had fought for across a thousand battlefields.

you.

you looked just as he had remembered and yet… not. there was something in your eyes, something weary, something knowing.

"is it really you?" your voice trembled, your hands gripping the doorframe as if to steady yourself. "or am i dreaming again?"

his throat went dry. he wanted to say something—anything—but all he could do was stare.

he had imagined this moment a hundred times, had whispered your name into the cold night air of distant lands, had prayed to gods he no longer believed in just to see you again.

but now that you were here, he didn’t know if he had the right to reach for you.

"you look... different," you whispered. "your eyes… they look tired."

his lip curled, not in anger, but in some bitter, broken thing that resembled a smile. "that ain't the only thing that's different."

you took a step closer, hesitant, searching. your gaze trailed the hollows of his cheeks, the sharpness of his jaw. your fingers twitched as if aching to touch him, but you held back. 

a sharp breath left him. he knew what you saw. he wasn't the man you had once known. he was something else now. something ruined.

"i'm not the man you fell in love with," he admitted, voice rough like gravel. "not the man you married."

you flinched, but you didn’t look away.

"i'm not your husband anymore," he continued, his voice quiet, pained. "my love... would you fall in love with me again, if you knew all i've done?"

your breath hitched. "what... have you done?"

katsuki shut his eyes. when he opened them, they were dark with memories he wished he could forget.

"left blood on every fuckin' battlefield," he sighed. "traded soldiers like weapons. hurt more lives than i can count." his jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. "but every goddamn thing i did… was to come back to you."

he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "so tell me. would you still love me?"

your eyes shimmered with unshed tears. you studied him again, truly seeing him, the man he was now—the weight he carried, the sins etched into his skin.

then you turned, walking deeper into their home. katsuki's chest ached as you disappeared from view. maybe this was it. maybe you couldn’t—

"could you do me a favor?" your voice drifted from within.

"what is it, my love?" his brow furrowed as he followed, stepping inside for the first time in years. the air smelled of you. of home. 

you were quiet for a long time, the wind whispering between you. then, at last, you stepped forward, eyes steady. 

you turned your gaze to the large wedding bed in their home, carved from the sturdy olive tree that had stood as a silent witness to your love since the beginning.

“that bed,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “could you lift it? carry it far away from here?”

his blood ran cold.

“how could you say that?” his voice cracked, the anger, the exhaustion, the heartbreak all colliding into one. “i built that bed with my own fuckin' hands. carved it from the tree where we first met. the only way to move it is to—”

his breath caught. he looked at you, realization striking him like lightning. his chest ached. his arms, worn from war, longed for your warmth.

“…you knew."

you stepped closer, cradling his face in your hands. his hands came, gripping your waist as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

a small, trembling smile touched your lips. "only my husband would know that. so i guess that makes you... him."

his knees nearly buckled. he surged forward, hands cupping your face, his forehead pressing against yours.

tears slipped down your cheeks, but you smiled, truly smiled, as your hands finally touched him—fingers ghosting over scars and bruises and the remnants of war.

"i will fall in love with you over and over again, katsuki," you whispered. "i don't care how, where, or when. no matter how long it's been. you are mine.”

he crushed you to him, burying his face into your hair, his body shaking. katsuki swallowed hard, his vision blurring. “i told you… i’m not the same.”

"you're always my husband, katsuki," you murmured. "i've been waiting for you. i would have waited forever."

katsuki's arms tightened around you, grounding himself in your warmth, your love, your unwavering belief in him.

"you don't have to anymore," he whispered. "i'm home." 

katsuki held you tightly, his arms wrapped around you like he never wanted to let go. the weight of years, of battles, of bloodshed, all crumbled beneath the warmth of your touch.

you swallowed hard. “how long has it been?”

katsuki exhaled, his forehead resting against yours. his voice was barely above a whisper.

“twenty years.”

a breath hitched in your throat. twenty years. twenty years of waiting, of uncertainty, of praying that the man you loved would return to you. “god, katsuki…”

“i thought i’d never make it back to you,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “i thought—” he stopped himself, closing his eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours. “i don’t deserve this.”

"don’t say that," tears spilled down your cheeks as you cupped his face, your fingers trembling. “i love you.”

his breath shuddered. he had been through war. he had seen death, had taken lives, and had lived in the darkness for what felt like an eternity. and yet, nothing had ever struck him down the way those three words did.

a harsh, broken laugh escaped him, and he pressed his lips against your forehead.

“i love you more. always have. always will.”

you sobbed, burying yourself in his chest as he held you tighter, his body shaking from exhaustion, from relief, from love.

and for the first time in years, katsuki bakugo finally let himself fall. back into the home he had fought so hard to return to. back into you, his wife.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

𐙚⋆° — reparation

pairings : hanta s. x gn!reader

warnings : i made this story from a dream i had guys pls pls sorry if its bad, reader is in support course :0, slowww buuurrnn, kind of IMPLIED but not explicitly said to be fem!reader (they just hang out a lot with the girls cause yea), LOTS of dialogue, and SWEARING , suicide joke SORRY

a/n : IM SORRY I MAKE SO MANY HANTA STUFF ZZZZZ i think i'll make eijiro next cAUSE this was kinda based off of this

➤ masterlist!

4,1k word count!

The Sports Festival was the first time you saw him. That lopsided grin present as his name flashed on the screen. Your first thought was how funny he looked. Sure, he’s cute, but those elbows are such a characteristic. You couldn’t help but snicker a bit. Seeing him get absolutely devoured by a certain two-tone haired, yet that smile persisted, as if it’s a stubborn stain, refusing to be washed away. 

You remember that time, texting Kyoka about it.

[ 12:30 ] you : was that guy from your class lol [ 12:30 ] you : he’s kinda cute :P 

And maybe that was the trigger point. 

When Higari asked your class to create a gear design based off of a quirk, you didn’t sketch out a gear for yourself, or a pro-hero, no. Maybe it was just inspiration, or maybe just admiration; but you made a gear based off of him. The page is still stuck in your notebook until now, complete with little notes of each parts’ functions and whatnot. Even Higari himself nodded in approval. Yet the gear never came to life.

Or so you thought.

It was the middle of the semester when students in the heroics course started flooding the workshop. Around that time Mei seemed to work tirelessly day and night from how many requests she’s gotten from them. You were not much different, although the requests sent to you were quite a bit easier. Then one morning, that same lanky figure, lazing grin and laid back voice was present. In flesh, Hanta Sero. 

His first awkward greeting to you was when you were carefully screwing shut a small contraption. 

“Hey uh…” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck while his other hand was holding something, like scraps of metal or something.

“C-can you help me uh… fix this?” His grin grew, a look of guilt present in his face, mixed with sheepishness. 

Your face contorted to confusion, brows stitched together while you attempted to figure out what was supposed to be fixed when all he held out was scraps of metals and screws. 

With a sigh, you lifted up your goggles, and said; “I can’t fix scraps,”

“I’ll just make you a new one. Just describe to me what your gear’s supposed to do.” You chuckled, hands already snaking to the table to grab your notebook and pen.

And now here you are. Second year, second semester. You had grown close with the girls in the heroics course, especially Mina and Kendo, since they visit the workshop a little bit too often.

It was lunch time, you sat with the girls from 2-A, chattering and laughing about.

“How about you, y/n?” Tooru’s voice chimed through your daze. “You never tell us anything!”

You raised your eyebrows in interest, a hum to respond. 

Tooru giggled, “You never tell us who you’ve got your eyes on! Come onn, there’s gotta be someone, right?”

You blinked. 

Someone..?

You huffed a chuckle, “Nah, probably someone soldering iron right now.” 

But then your mind flickered to that one page in your notebook. That lazy grin and those cheesy jokes he’d throw around while you measured his elbows, and how you’ve somehow memorized his blazer’s smell that always reeked of tangerines. Or maybe how he sometimes would bring your favorite snack with him, giving it to you as a token of gratitude.

Your eyes fell to your tray, your lunch still half eaten while your chopsticks hovered over your rice. “I dunno,” You shrugged. “M’ not really thinking of that stuff right now,” 

Mina whined, “See? I told you! It’s hard to get y/n’s mouth to open about these kinds of stuff!” 

A smirk tugged at your lips as you took a portion of rice into your mouth, chuckling at her acts. 

༉‧₊˚.

You hummed to the song playing in the workshop as you carefully placed a small chip into the gear laid in front of you. A small tweezer pinched in your hand as you slowly descended the small piece, only for the door to open with an ear-cracking holler.

“yyyyy/nnnnn” Hanta’s voice whined, his feet dragging him to your desk.

“My gear broke, again! Such horror…” He dramatically collapsed himself, placing a hand on his forehead as he handed out his wrecked gear.

You stifled back a laugh, rolling your eyes as you focused your attention on the gear on your desk again, carefully placing the chip.

“You do this every week like it’s a routine,” You chuckled.

He gasped, placing his hand on his chest. “Foul creature!” 

He stood up, pointing his finger to the sky while his lips twitched to a smile. “I must tell you, this gear is simply not able to contain my true power!” 

“Falling down the stairs is not true power, Han.” You grinned, screwing shut the gear as you examined it one last time.

“...Okay, fine I dropped it.” He huffed, “But it just means your work needs to be evaluated!” He argued, pacing back and forth as if lecturing you.

“You’re one to talk,” You snorted, setting aside the small gear to a box before turning your chair to face him, to face his stupidly grinning face.

He laughed, getting on his knees as he handed the gear on his palms to you like it’s an offering. “Pleaseeee, pleaseee, fix this, pleaasee?” 

With a roll of your eyes, you snatched the gear, placing it on your desk for the umpteenth time, your hands already readying the same screws, bolts, and everything the gear needed, already embedded into your memory like it’s your mother’s recipe. “I don’t even have to ask what’s broken anymore, Han, it’s that often.”

“Hey, it makes your job easier, riigghtt?” He nudged your shoulder. “Besides, it gives me an excuse to see you, don’t you miss me sometimes?” He asked, pulling a chair to sit.

You smiled, hands pausing on the gears casing as you were unscrewing it. 

“I guess,” You mumbled.

He chuckled, the sound coming out more like a shriek more than anything. 

“I gueeess” He imitated, you can even hear him sticking out his tongue at you. “Lying is bad y/n. Admit it. Your workshop feels dead without me,” 

“I like the quietness better, actually.”

He giggled, “Ouch, man, here I thought we were long lost siblings.” With a creak of the chair, he leaned to your desk, eyeing you from the side. “I’ll pay you back, ‘kay?”

“With what?” You chuckled, eyes fixed on the gear. 

“Banana milk,” He snickered, “And maybe if I’m feeling generous I’ll also buy you those steamed cakes you always eat since our first year.” 

“The fuck?” You snorted. “You remember that?”

He pssh’ed, “Duh?”

“You eat that shit like it’s a reward every time you’re done with like… five gears or something,”

Glancing sideways, you couldn’t stop the grin tugging at your lips. “You’re weird.”

“You love me,” He teased, pushing himself to stand up from the chair. “Those steam cakes are ass, you’re weird.” 

You mumbled a mock to him, sticking out your tongue as you reached out to grab a mold from the drawer. 

His steps receded as he laughed, hands buried in his pocket while he walked backwards towards the door.

“I’ll get the original flavour,” He yelled. “Byeeee,” 

Clack.

An hour and thirty minutes.

It took an hour and thirty minutes for you to finish that damned gear. To be exact, an hour and thirty minutes after you’ve finished the other gears before that. With a small groan, you stretched your arms above your head, your body’s slouch finally stretched out to fix your posture. 

07:30 P.M. — The clock blinked, red bold digital numbers as if reminding you to stop and close the workshop for the day. So you did. 

With a soft click, you locked the workshop’s doors, sighing softly to yourself while your other hand clutched your bag, keeping it on your shoulder. The floors of the building squeaked with the rubber soles of your shoes as you dragged your feet, echoing against the empty building.

Tucked away carefully in your bag was the reason. His gear, you even painted it in his signature colors; white, black, and yellow. Maybe that was the reason your clothes smelled like fresh paint all over, but you didn’t mind. You’d stuck a small note on it, written in your handwriting;

‘Don’t break this one >:(‘

The conversation from earlier rang in your mind again. Tooru’s sweet voice chiming that casual question, but somehow it bugs you a bit. “Come onn, there’s gotta be someone, right?”

Someone.

You chuckled softly to yourself as you mindlessly made your way to his class, no need to remind you again; his desk was third from the back, second from the right. 

With a small noise, you placed down the gears, securing it into his drawer before you silently made your way out of the dark, empty classroom, then making your way to your dorm. 

༉‧₊˚.

“Jeez,” Hanta muttered in awe, carefully examining the gears now resting on top of his desk. His grin grew as he saw the note, an expression—that of amazed and amused. His thumb grazed carefully over it, as if afraid to smudge it. 

Even the colors were spot on, too, his colors. Small details you had implanted to the gear—maybe it was to ensure that he doesn’t break it again, or maybe it was just your way of evaluating your work. Either way, he finds himself grinning from ear to ear as he chuckles, looking at his newly fixed gear. You’d put an additional hole on the strap so he can adjust it more accordingly, the edges were smoothed out so that it sits comfortably on his arms.

“Shut up,” He laughed, the sound coming out more gentle—awestruck, adoring.

༉‧₊˚.

Knock knock knock! — The workshop door opened slightly, creaking as a shuffling sound made its way into the room. He’s right behind me, isn’t he.

“Moooorning,” He sang out, shaking the plastic bag in front of you. 

“Banana milk, and steamed cake. Just how my favorite mechanic likes it.” He placed the bag beside your arm, “Yooouu’re welcome,” Pride laced his voice.

God, all you can do is smile, as you slowly peeked your hand into the plastic bag, peeking inside with the exact things he said. “You know you don’t have to do this aaall the time, right?”

“I know,” He shrugged, rocking back and forth on his heels. “But I wanna,” 

“...You’re just bribing me,”

“I’m for reeaaaalll”

“...Thanks, Han.” You hummed, smiling softly as you reached into the bag, unwrapping the small steamed cake. The plastic rustled against your fingers as you tried to open it.

“You suck at opening shit,” He snickered, snatching the cake from you, ripping it open before handing it back to you. “Hm, eat,”

You blinked at him, feigning offense. “I was getting there.” You said, chuckling. 

“Sure you were,” he teased, plopping down onto the nearest stool like he owned the place. “At the speed of a dying turtle.” The noise he made next was ugly. Imitating a grandma talking. 

“Screw off,” You giggled, sticking your tongue out at him but took a bite anyway.

He watched you, arms crossed and chin propped on the edge of the worktable, eyes all full of mischief and… something else. Quieter. Warmer.

“You should smile like that more often,” he said out of the blue, his smirk faded into a small smile.

Your chewing paused. “…Like what?”

He leaned back with a stretch. “Like you actually like me.”

You shot him a look. “Han—”

“Kiddingg!” he grinned, holding his hands up in surrender. “Juusst kidding.”

After a small pause, he spoke up, “I gotta go now, my first class is heroics,” Hanta smiled, slapping his palms to his knees as he stood up. 

With his hands in his pockets he walked to the door. “Byyyee, don’t miss me,”

“Oh, and finish the cake, it was super expensive.”

It had been like that for a little over a year now. He’d come to you, whining about his broken gear, begging on his knees for you to fix it—and every time you did so, you threatened him to never break it again or you’re not fixing it ever again. But that never happened. Every time he whined back to you, you’d fix it, no matter how much you groaned about it, you still fixed it for him. And he’d come to you the next morning to bring your favorites; always the same banana milk and steamed cake. 

And honestly? It stuck to you. It became a small little routine for you, something you’d grown used to. But today—after yesterday’s little chat at lunch—it felt special, somehow. It felt like he saw you, like he…

…cares about you. 

But that was just a silly thought. 

You snorted. 

Hanta’s nice. That’s what he is, nice, friendly. Welcoming to everyone, and you were no exception. 

༉‧₊˚.

God, these projects show no mercy. And if you weren’t that much of a procrastinator, maybe these wouldn’t be stacked up into a bundle that you had to finish by tomorrow. A small grumble left your lips as you tweaked the final blueprint, scratching down the stiff paper before huffing a small celebration, rolling it up to tuck it behind your desk. 

The clock showed the time—06:30 P.M.

Ugh. You missed your show again. With a small sigh, you stepped towards the door, rummaging through your pocket to ready the keys and lock the door. 

Clack. The door closed, the lock clicking softly as you turned it to the right, jingling before you stuffed it back into your pocket. 

“Like you actually like me.” His joke echoed. 

His joke.

You brushed it off, even though a small smile tugged on your lips as you adjusted your bag over your shoulder, steps light towards the exit. 

Wait. Is that…?

Standing by the gates was that same lanky figure, tall and lilt, hair slicked from the rain while his laugh echoed through it. You almost smiled, almost laughed at his face. Almost. Before you saw her. A small girl standing next to him, smiling so sweetly at him while his blazer was draped over her, fitting and perfect. The same blazer he usually draped over your shoulder when the workshop felt too cold, and he felt too warm. The one that had a small twinge of oil stuck to its cuff. The one that smelled like tangerines.

He said something. Something that made her laugh. And he smiled at that. He smiled at her laugh.

Like he was proud of it. 

You felt your chest twist. Scrunched up and stretched. The rain wasn’t making anything better. The fact that you’re tired and pent up from today made everything worse. 

So you ran. 

You ran past them, bag over your head as you picked up your pace, your face was wet, and cold, not just from the rain. You hoped he didn’t see you, didn’t see that grimace you had on your face, didn’t see the way you bit your lip. But you hoped he did. Hoped he saw you. 

The streets were blurry by the rain, thunder clapping above your head as you ran to the dorms. And you slipped. Slipped just enough to make you drop to your knees and scraped your palms. You groaned in frustration, in hurt.

So all this time you were just his fixer upper? Cool.

༉‧₊˚.

Two weeks.

It took him two weeks to notice something was wrong. Sure, you still fixed his gear, although he didn’t break them this time. Said they were ‘too pretty’ to be broken, but even that didn’t earn your usual witty remark, you just smiled faintly to him. 

But he brushed it off. 

Maybe you were just tired, maybe his trick of ‘breaking’ his gear was starting to piss you off. Maybe he needed a new excuse to see you other than fixing his gear. 

Maybe you were growing tired of him. Naaaahhh. No way, jose. 

You like his company, you enjoy being around him. He sees that, he sees you. 

…But why were you pulling away? Did he say something? Okay maybe he did throw a small offensive joke. But you always laughed at that! So what was wrong? What was so wrong that you’re not even laughing at his jokes? His actions? Him?

Okay, fine. Whatever. Maybe you just needed some space. 

So he gave you that. 

But the moment he came into the workshop shaking your usual banana milk and steamed cake combo, and you rejected that? 

“I’m good, Han. Thanks.” You replied. Blunt, short, precise, to-the-motherfucking-point.

Oh he screwed up. He screwed something up. 

“Oh, uh..”

“Okay, I’ll uh… give this to Denks then, dude eats everything.” He chuckled awkwardly, the plastic rustling by his side.

“Mhm, okay.” 

Shiiiittt he’s so screwed. 

You didn’t even chuckle, and that’s how he knew.

༉‧₊˚.

“They hate me. They hate me so bad. I’m killing myself.” Hanta whined to his pillow, Kaminari perched by the edge of his bed.

“They didn’t even CHUCKLE at me, Den.” He groaned, his muffled voice cracking as he threw his arms up.

Kaminari sighed, arms folded as he glanced at the ravenette. “You’re being dramatic, Han.”

“No I’m not!” He protested, shooting up from his bed to sit up. “I’m not, okay? I just—I don’t know what I did, I just—...” He sighed, flopping back into his bed, groaning as he ran his hands over his face. “I don’t wanna lose them, Den..” He mumbled in a trembling voice.

“Then tell them that.” Kaminari shrugged, a chuckle on his lips as he scooted closer, patting Hanta’s thigh.

“...How?” He croaked back. “I don’t even know what I did wrong, dude I just…”

“Two weeks ago we were fine, I even made risky ass jokes to them and they laughed! And when I was lending that girl my blazer—”

Kaminari whistled. “Bingo.”

The bed shuffled as he sat up, head darting to Kaminari’s way while his mouth hung open. “Shit.”

“Go, Han.” 

༉‧₊˚.

The halls of UA had never felt so… suffocating. He’s been here before, like hours like these too. Just now he feels like he’s risking his life as he stares at the slightly cracked open door of the support course workshop. His steps felt heavy, like lead weights dragged through the ground, and his mouth felt dry, like water had never touched his tongue, and suddenly the plastic bag in his right hand felt too plastic-y. The faint tune of your favorite song was humming through the air, as well as the consistent whir of the sanding machine. 

As he slowly pushed the door open, the creak felt loud—too loud. Loud enough for you to dart your eyes to the door and paused your hand. His throat fell dry, drier than before.

“H-hey,” He grinned. It felt too wide, too stiff. But he didn’t care.

You held your gaze on him for a moment, brows furrowed, and he swore even when he couldn’t see your eyes through your goggles, he felt your stare pierce through him. 

The sanding machine came to life again, louder this time as you ducked your head back to the gear in your hand. “Hey,” you mumbled back, not bothering to look at him.

“I uh…”

“I wanted to talk to you,” He chuckled, stepping just a bit closer, his hand gripping the plastic bag tighter.

Perhaps his portion of response from you had run out. You stayed silent as you continued sanding the casing of the gear, stopping briefly to examine it. 

“...Y-you’re mad, at me, …I think,”

“And I uh…I just… I wanted to fix that, y/n.” He shifted his weight between his feet, chewing his bottom lip as you slowly paused the machine, setting it aside on your desk.

“Why?” You bluntly asked. Perching your elbow on your armrest as you lifted up your goggles. 

God, you’re such a sight to him. Even angry and frowning at him like this, you took his breath away, if not more.

“B-because—...”

“I care?” 

“I mean–! I care, I care, …I care… a lot,” He grinned again, nodding as if convincing himself before he cleared his throat, louder than necessary. “I care… I care about you, y/n.”

His gaze fell to the ground, pressing his lips into a thin line, he shut his eyes. “I…I made a mistake, okay? A-and… I hurt you, and I’m… real sorry, y/n.”

“...I don’t…wanna lose you,” He breathed that out, coming out barely above a whisper while his hand gripped the plastic bag tighter.

“Look–.. that one time, y-you saw me with that girl at the gate? S-she meant nothing, okay?”

“I just…wanted to be nice,” He muttered quietly, almost as if in shame. 

“You’re always nice, Han.” You blurted, finally opening up your voice. It felt cold, different from what he was so used to hearing. “You’re always nice to everyone, aren’t you?” Your voice shook.

“...You probably think this is stupid, I don’t care.” You spat, your voice held a small tinge of anger in it.

“You made me think that you… you liked me, and—” 

“Because I do.” 

The words hung there, waiting for your response as the air conditioner hummed through the air.

“I…I do like you, y/n.”

“A lot.” He whispered quietly, his arms swinging in nervousness as he chewed on his lip, suffocated by the silence you answered with. 

You stared at him. 

Not just because he was standing there, but his words rang to your ears. It was what you wanted to hear. That confession, that maybe he cared for you for a reason. And he did. He did care for you for a reason. 

“For a long time now, okay?”

“I—... I don’t even know when– I just–...”

He sighed. “I just… really like talking to you, I like how you understand my dumb jokes, and you even—...it’s dumb, but you flirt back when I do, okay? And that shit was hot… for me.”

He groaned, wiping his eyes with frustration in his movements, throwing his head back as he stammered; “I’m screwing this shit up– I’m..” 

“y/n I’m just… sorry,” He said, finally looking at you. Hints of tears threatening to fall down his cheeks while he stared at you with desperation written all over his face.

“Please don’t… don’t leave,” 

And you wanted to cry, and laugh, at the same time. Cry because you’ve never seen him like this, because did he really just lay his heart bare to you? Laugh because God he looks ridiculous right now. So desperate, so sad, if this was a less serious moment, maybe you’d pull out your phone and record him. 

So you smiled, “I like you too,”

“H–..What..?” He croaked back, his voice unsteady as he looked up at you again.

“I like you, Hanta, I like you, back.”

He breathed out a laugh, finally smiling after what felt like his face was stretched down to the earth for the past few minutes, he grinned, running his hand through his hair. “You– what?” 

Ahem. “Okay wait, pause—” 

“C-can I–..?” A hand reached out to you hesitantly, sheepish and nervous, twitching slightly as if scared you’ll break if he touches you. 

Slowly, you reached back, enveloping your hands into his, letting him slowly pull you into his embrace. Warm, quiet, and… smells like tangerines. A small giggle escaped his lips as he brought his hand up to your hair, carefully caressing it. “Shit, I’m so— happy right now,”

His heartbeat was fast, shinkansen speed-kinda-fast, you heard it as you slowly buried your face to his shoulder, your arms awkwardly wrapping around his waist, and you couldn’t help but smile widely, nuzzling yourself into him. 

“I thought I messed this up, I swear— like, real bad, y’know?” He murmured into your hair, a hand gently resting over the line between your hip and waist. “I thought I lost you,” 

With a swift motion, he took off his blazer, carefully resting it on your shoulders, as he wrapped his arms around you again.

“S’ yours now,”

“...What?”

“My blazer—...your blazer.”

You giggled, lightly pinching his shoulder. “Shut up,”

“Hey come on!” He chuckled, “I’ll even trademark it for ya,”

You grinned against his shoulder, arms wrapping just a bit tighter around him.

“C’mon, I know you looovee me that much, but I know you’re also hungry,” His hand nudged your arm with the plastic bag, “I brought my favorite mechanic’s favorites,” He hummed out.

“Steamed cake and banana milk.”

He grinned. “Just how you like it,” 

And in the warm, quiet thrum of the workshop, under buzzing lights and the soft scent of sawdust and tangerines, it finally felt right.

Like home.

dworkism | do not repost!

➤ masterlist!

i gotta write other things other than this man i swear

oh my fuck!!! i love the way you write hanta saur much. dying. stalked your masterlist for him. realised that i alr read two of it before and immediately questioned why i was following you. have a good day and night <33

HI ROWAAANN!!

1. thank you so much ☹️🫶 your words means a MUCH LOT to me, im so glad you enjoy the way i write!! and i hope you shall continue to find me so as we continue with this journey 💕💕

2. you!! have a greaaatt day, and a pleasant night!! 💕

solid line dividers ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

[ don’t forget to credit if you use them! (in the post or in the tags): @hyuneskkami ]

— red .ᐟ

— orange / yellow .ᐟ

— green .ᐟ

— blue .ᐟ

— pink .ᐟ

— purple .ᐟ

-> more

hitoshi s for sass

⋆˚࿔ boyfriend tag

you’re a popular youtuber asking your boyfriend to participate in a new ‘boyfriend tag makeup’ trend.

— includes: kirishima, kaminari, sero & shinsou (in that order)

contains: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, baby + babe used and some feminine compliments with kiri

authors note: i need some youtuber suggestions guys pls

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

just saw your cheerleader x bhna boys and 🤯🤯 I LOVE ITT

could you do this but with musical theatre reader and maybe add shinso?? 💗🤗

⋆˚࿔ behind the spotlight

— includes : kirishima, kaminari, sero, & shinsou (in that order)

𓂃　♪　𓈒 cw: mostly gn!reader but eiji and denki say girlfriend once, fluff, established relationship, babe and baby used

𓂃　★ 𓈒 a/n: thank u for the request anon! i’ll take this as a sign to never exclude shinsou again lolol so i added a little extra for u shinsou fans

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

eijiro is your biggest fan, making you feel like a mainstream actor. when you tell him you landed the lead role in newest musical, he seemed to be more excited than you! “i know you could do it, you’re the best!”

eijiro acts like your manager—a super nice one of course—he helps you rehearse your lines and guides you through warming up your voice.

he comes to every rehearsal he can make it too. eijiro cheers for you and your peers. your peers actually love him, how could they not? stage crew like to use him to carry and lift things, he enjoys doing these things knowing they help you in the long run.

secretly memorizes all the songs (and learns the meaning behind each of them) you’re singing so he won’t only be watching but also understanding.

his favorite musical is legally blonde! he thinks it’s super fun and elle woods quickly becomes his new inspiration.

on opening night, he gives you a bouquet of flowers before you go and stage. even in a rush he can’t help but encourage you, “can’t wait to see you on stage baby, i’m so excited.”

he is cheesing in the front row seats, his eyes not leaving you for a single second. he’s the first one standing when the show is over, clapping as the curtains come to a close.

“you were so good!” he engulfs you in a bear hug and you laugh. he is also brought to tears when he sees your glowing face, you’re like a real-life star and he gets to live in your glory.

after another bouquet of flowers and a million praises, he finally takes you home.

for the next three week he’s singing non-stop, the songs from the musical stuck in his head.

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

denki doesn’t know much about musical theater but after watching your first performance he finds that it’s his new eye candy.

when you tell him you landed the lead role denki grins, “what do i always say? my girlfriend is crazy talented!” his arm is draped around your shoulder. he pulls you closer, leaning down to kiss your cheek, “you’re gonna do amazing, i know it.”

tries his best to help you rehearse but gets distracted. “wait so, she has a crush on her sister's husband? that’s fucked up man.” even with his confusion he still manages to be super into the drama of it all.

denki lets you practice your stage makeup on him and is actually excited when you ask him to. thought by the end of it, he’s unsure, “are my cheeks supposed to be that… pink?”

would lose his mind if you had to do an onstage kiss. “can’t you just high-five instead! i mean you don’t have to kiss!” he says while he crosses his arm, practically pouting.

his favorite musical is heathers, no explanation needed. spongebob is a close second.

has tried to help backstage once but accidentally bumped into a switch and caused a power outage. the stage crew has been a little more cautious around him after that.

arrived to your show right as it starts so he can’t see you face to face until after the show, he’s devastated about this.

runs backstage as soon as the curtains fall, screaming. “BABE! YOU DID GREAT OUT THERE!” crushing you in a hug. he pulls back to hand you some flowers, the bouquet looking a bit shabby because he got fidgety during the show. “you're a star, should sign with broadway.” he teases as he walks you out.

denki somehow convinced the other theater kids to have an after party. so you spend the night celebrating with your boyfriend who makes this accomplishment feel special.

he may have auditioned for the next show to surprise you but didn’t get the role so he never told you about it.

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

hanta acts chill, but in the inside, he is amazed on how you keep on becoming more and more perfect, “lead role? holy shit babe that’s huge!” he brings you close and ruffles your hair “looks like i got an actor on my hands now.” he teases.

hanta is an absolute sweetheart, but he’s no actor. “oh no, how could you do this to me. i’m in completely despair.” he reads off the script with not a single hit of emotion behind his words. he then looks up with you with a grin, “did i do it good?” he’s trying his best to help you.

if you have a dance-heavy role he’ll joke about being jealous of your dance partner (he is not joking, he is jealous). he offers to help you practice dancing; this is mostly for his own pleasure.

tried to harmonize with you once but his voice cracked. hasn’t attempted to sing again since that day.

adds little encouraging doodles in the margins of your script. some with encouraging messages like, “you got this superstar!” others are… not so encouraging “i should’ve been cast as your super hot and cool love interest.”

got banned from watching your rehearsals because he would cheer every time you said your lines and boo everytime your love interest spoke. (denki was there supporting—booing—too)

his favorite musical was matilda, but after finding out that it’s originally british he changed it to mamma mia. now he can’t help but cry whenever he hears slipping through my fingers.

brings you chocolates and flowers on opening night. gives you a forehead kiss before you go on stage. “i’m might be more nervous than you,” he lets out an airy laugh and you end up having to comfort him. “break a leg!” he says as you walk off, his voice still weary.

he pretends to be causal when he sees you preform for the first time but how could he? you were perfect in every way and so impossible to ignore.

“you are so awesome.” is all he can say when you come off the stage. he is absolutely starstruck. he pulls you a long hug because he is just so freaking proud of you.

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

hitoshi is a part of the tech/backstage crew for the theater. he’s seen all the shows and actors before. so it comes to no surprise to him when you tell him you got the lead role, knowing how good you are. “of course you got the lead baby, you’re the best actor here.” he almost laughs at your modesty.

you both being theater heads leads to a lot of helping each other out! arriving at the theater early to help him prepare the stage speakers while you warm up your voice.

hitoshi is ecstatic when you ask him to adjust your mic or move the lights. he’ll take any chance he can to help you out.

if you’re alone in the theater rehearsing, hitoshi sometimes likes to mess with you through the intercom “that’s not how you said the line last time!” he calls out. you didn’t even know he was watching you.

lets you ruffle his hair and mess with his headset.

maybe the other actors don’t know it, but the stage crew does. hitoshi makes sure the stage crew never hears the end of your achievements. he doesn’t even mean to, he just finds himself commenting on your performance.

“she’s really good at that.” he watches from backstage with a smile, speaking to no one in particular.

“be careful with that set piece, my girlfriend is on stage.” he says it deadpan, but eveyone knows he’s serious.

his favorite musical is the addams family, obviously.

consoles in izuku about color theory so he can learn what color stage lights will match best with your skin tone.

you get ready for opening night together. he zips up your costume and you tighten his tie. he gives you flowers and a high quality pair of sheer tights, you almost propose to him right there.

hitoshi is happy he has the pleasure of watching you backstage, seeing you from an angle no one else is.

you stand next to each other when the show is over, and the time comes to bow for the crowd. he doesn’t let go of your hand when the curtain drops. before you can even open your mouth to ask, he speaks “perfect, fucking perfect.” he praises as guides you into a gentle kiss.

◦˚~ ANIMATED STARS DIVIDERS by enchanthings ~˚◦

Info: these were all drawn & animated by me. please reblog/like if use!

lowk i think the only rzn i like fanfics sm is bc im single af and want to be loved

꩜ — strictly business, perhaps.

pairings : boss!tenya iida x secretary!reader

warnings : 4.3k words damn (UNRESOLVED TENSIONNN)

➤ masterlist!

Papers rustle by the glass top of the table, along with the sound of typing on the keyboard. Tenya sighed, clattering his glasses onto the table top, he pinched the bridge of his nose. The documents didn’t seem to end, his stomach was rumbling, churning, and his head was spinning. 

“Goodness..” He complained silently, propping his head upon his hand as his hand ran through his hair. 

The silence of the small office was broken briefly by the glass door opening, then closing again. Your form stood there in a bit of awkwardness, sensing the boss’s not-so-pleasant mood. Clutching the clipboard, you cleared your throat softly. 

“Mister Iida, I-It is lunch time already, would you… like for me to order your lunch from the restaurant on the ground floor?” You carefully asked, keeping your tone hushed.

He sighed, nodding before he stood up while straightening his clothes and his tie. “Please do, y/n. Thank you very much.” He replied, his voice husky and hoarse, while his hand perched his glasses back on to his nose. Tenya cleared his throat once more, and he stayed like that for a moment, while you nodded, turning your back to him as you reached for the door once more. 

But then you turned back around again, “Oh!” Your index finger plucking up to the air. “And, would you like your usual orange juice to go with it as well, mister Iida?” 

And finally, his stiffened cheeks frozen from the day’s work twitched up to a smile, a huff escaping his breath. “Yes please, y/n. Thank you very much.”

˚୨୧⋆.˚

The scent of broth and the steam of rice greeted Tenya’s lungs, warmth replacing the dull cold air from the air conditioner. He smiled faintly, tilting his body to the side from his computer, meeting your form teetering on your feet while you carefully ushered the tray in your hands to his table.

“Thank you so much, y/n. Right on time.” He sighed, clearing the space on his table for the tray to be placed down to. 

You smiled softly to him, chuckling softly as you carefully placed down his lunch in front of him. “Perhaps I know my boss too well.” 

That earned a small laugh from him as he picked up the spoon and fork from the side of the tray, the utensils clinking to each other as he unwrapped the napkin wrapping them. The faint smoke danced around the air, before slowly seeping into his nostrils again, and he could only sigh with a smile.

“Perhaps you do.” He replied, smiling warmly at you from above his glasses, which you only replied with a soft chuckle and a sway of your body.

You cleared your throat, pulling yourself back to the ground. “Is there anything I can help more, sir?” 

He shook his head, already dipping his spoon into the clear broth of the soup. “No, no,”

Then he paused. 

“How about you, y/n? Have you eaten?” His head looked up from his lunch, a finger adjusting his glasses again to see you clearly, his brows furrowed a bit in concern. Which you responded with a nod, “Mhm, already have, sir.” 

He nods, “Good, good.” 

“I’ll excuse myself then, sir?” You reassured again, bowing slightly to him.

Tenya grinned, nodding as his hand gestured for you to exit the room. “Yes, thank you again, y/n.”

˚୨୧⋆.˚

For goodness’ sake, can this project finish itself? Were the man’s thoughts as he typed furiously on the keyboard. It seemed like the proposals needed for the project seemed to be endless, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask any help from you. Though that was what his fingers are twitching to do right now. His thumb hovered over the phone button on your contact as he debated his choices.

On one hand, it’s already almost midnight, and you had gone home way long ago. He needs some help, and Tenya swears if he were to type another letter for another corporation to ask them to sponsor this massive charity project, he’s going to blow his office into shreds. On the other hand, it’s Friday. Which means you’re probably having some week-end routine, which he does not dare to interrupt. 

What if you were on a date? Goodness, it will be such impoliteness to disturb your night.

What if… you were trying to have some fun with your friends? Well he wouldn’t want to barge in now, won’t he?

What if you were already asleep?! Oh goodness that would be such a fuss..

Or– or…

“It’s just a call, Tenya.” He huffed, grumbling to himself while his thumb hesitantly pressed the button. 

It took a couple of beeps from the line to finally connect to yours, and a small shuffling sound was heard before your groggy voice hummed in confusion, answering the call. 

“M...Mister Iida?” Was what you managed to croak out, your voice nervous and hazy, a small sigh of sleepiness could be heard from your side of the line. 

Tenya scolded himself mentally, chewing on his lower lip in panic as he stammered a few vowels. “Oh goodness, y/n, I-..I’m… so very sorry…” He softly apologized, sighing in regret. “I didn't mean to wake you… j-just go back to sleep, y/n,”

“I’ll inform you about this in Monday..” 

Your voice could be heard mumbling from the other line, chewing your tongue to wake yourself up. “It’s fine, sir… is there anything you need help with…?”

He shook himself, standing up from his seat as if he were to chide you in person. “No, no.”

“Sleep is essential, y/n. I apologize for disturbing your slumber.”

There was silence for a moment in the call, only faint buzzing from the phone repeating upon his ears as he nervously waited for your answer.

“Mmkay sir, g’night…” 

And with that, the line hung up. So did his arm, hung to his side as he sighed to himself, hitting his forehead with his palm repeatedly in frustration. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid..!” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s almost midnight, of course it’s bedtime!” He huffed, straightening his back, tugging down his shirt to straighten it once more as he sat back down to his seat, creaking it in the process.

He propped himself again, hovering his hands over his keyboard, and for a second–he stayed like that, somehow unsure of what to type to the proposal. 

Ahem. 

He propped himself up again, straightening his back, preparing to type. 

…but your voice kept echoing, taunting him from the back of his head. That soft, sleepy little goodnight replaying again and again in his ear, clear as day.

˚୨୧⋆.˚

You walked into the office as per usual the Monday, the few previous night’s little disturbance slipped way out of your mind. But one thing never did; checking in on your boss to inform him of his schedules today. Except… weird.

The disciplinarian Tenya Iida had never been late before, and even if he were ever late, it was late to his own clock. Yet today seemed to be the latter. Tenya Iida, the infamous early bird, your boss, is not to be found in his office. The glass door is still locked, waiting to be opened by his ID card. And so you walked to your cubicle again, placing down your tablet to the table as you rummaged your pocket of your phone, swiftly swiping to his chat room. 

It took him a good five minutes before his typing animation popped by the side of the screen, three little dots jumping up and down before his message got sent;

Weird. You thought again. 

You had been working for this busy man for too long to know the man doesn’t even need alarms to be able to wake up to his schedule. Even if he did, hadn’t his body already memorized the time he has to get up? 

You shrugged it off, fingers already pressing the numbers to the restaurant to order your boss’s breakfast. 

Precise, as always. Ten minutes later, the familiar blue haired man walked into the office, his glasses sat slightly crooked upon the bridge of his nose as he scattered himself into his office. You chuckled at the sight, standing up to catch up to him in his office. With a small knock on the door, it unlocked from inside.

“Good morning, sir.” You greeted, pushing the door with your back as your hands both carried his breakfast; warm egg toast, and a glass of orange juice. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

Tenya stiffens. The sound of his rustling fabric stopping immediately as you greeted him. “M-morning, y/n,” He replied, his slight voice crack immediately covered with him clearing his throat. “I.. have not..” 

Ahem. “H..how’d you know…?”

You chuckled, setting down the meal to his table, before setting your hands to your sides, “I figured it’s hard to think of breakfast when you are running late, sir.” 

Then he grinned. Not the classic professional grin he had always worn, it was… sheepish, almost shy. Tenya’s voice rumbled lowly as he chuckled. “Thank you, y/n.”

With a smile, and a nod of acknowledgement, you excused yourself to take your tablet. As you walked back in, he was still tying his tie, swiftly folding it around his neck while you opened your tablet to swipe to the calendar app. 

Tenya’s back turns away from you as he comes to face you, giving a hum or two as you explained his schedules for today, while sometimes adding somethings in between like; “Oh, that one is cancelled.” or “I think that one is prolonged, y/n. I forgot to inform you.” And you’d nod, typing swiftly on the keyboard or tapping and swiping to edit the schedule for today. So with your morning routine finished, you excused yourself once more, exiting his office to return to your cubicle. 

And now, Tenya was alone in his office, once more. Your steady and intonated voice is gone, replaced by the constant humming from the air conditioner. He glanced at the breakfast you had left him. With awkwardness, he shuffled his way to the table, sitting down to carefully unwrap the sandwich—as if he was being watched. As he chewed, he scolded himself once more. 

How could he have been so out of discipline? He is the boss! And here he is, being late.

With a huff, he slapped himself on both cheeks. He chugged down the orange juice, setting the plate and the glass aside to switch the computer on. 

And then he remembered one thing. The one thing he tried to ask of you that night. He needed help typing those pesky proposals, his fingers already felt way too numb on the keyboard, and his head couldn’t even think of any more pleasing words for those sponsors. So he did, with many nerves, but he did. His fingers already remembered your cubicle phone’s number, and it beeped by with ease. Your voice answered almost immediately.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, uh… may I ask for some favor from you?” His tone cautious, almost as if he was concerned he had disturbed your peace. 

“Oh, Mister Iida. Of course, sir. What is it?”

He cleared his throat, swaying left and right on his spinning chair. “Could you please… help me in writing some proposals for the upcoming project, y/n…?” 

“Oh! Of course, sir. Would you need me to come to your office?”

Then he stayed silent. Glancing to the small couch by the side of his office as he contemplated the choice. “...Sure, that would be great, thank you y/n.” 

“I’ll be right with you, sir.”

And right with him you were. With a soft knock, the door unlocked from inside, allowing you to enter in once more. You clutched your laptop in your hand, carefully stepping into the quiet, isolated space. 

Tenya smiled, gesturing his hand to the couch. “Have a seat, y/n.”

“...I’m very sorry for asking your help on such a short notice,” 

You chuckled, waving your hand dismissively as you set down the laptop on the couch. “It’s alright, sir. It’s my job.”

With no further ado, he cleared his throat with a grin, explaining to you what he needed you to help with, as you propped up your laptop upon your lap, typing in his requirements and points needed to be included in each proposal. 

The two of you went on with silence as you both got to work. Broken only by the rhythmical tap of yours and his keyboard, and his occasional ahem’s. You would sometimes peek glances at him from the corner of your eyes, and as the day progressed, his tie loosened more and more. You couldn’t help but smile faintly at the sight. 

Him too, did so. Everytime you would unconsciously hum that one tune from a song, or mumble out the words you were typing in, he’d sneak a glance at you, smiling softly to himself before snapping his head back to the computer. Because God forbid you look this cute up close. Wait what?

By the last ‘thank you for taking the time to read this proposal’ you typed onto a document, the sky had gone dark, and so did the outside of his office. The clock shows 08:45 PM. You stretched your hands up, groaning softly as you cracked your head to the sides. With a stifled yawn, you swiped around your touchpad. 

“I’ll send the proposals to you, sir.” You informed him, your voice had lost its professionalism long ago, now you only had your hoarse and croaking speech to offer. 

Tenya’s head shot to the side to look at you. He sighed as he twitched up a grateful smile. “Thank you so much, y/n. I’m very sorry to be keeping you this late.”

Your lips pressed up to form a thin smile, as you slipped your laptop into its sleeve, standing up from the couch, a small dent left upon it from how long you sat there. “No need to apologize, mister Iida. I am only doing my job.” 

As you slung your bag over your shoulder, you bowed to him once more. “I’ll be excusing myself if you have nothing left for me to help you with, sir.” 

Tenya hesitated. He opened his mouth, then closed it. But then he opened it again, “Wait,” His voice croaked, his hand stiffly reaching out to yours before he stopped it, immediately pulling it to his side again. He cleared his throat, watching as you turned around again from the door. 

“L-let’s walk together to the exit, hm?”

Blink blink.

“Sure, mister Iida.” You smiled.

“Tenya,” He mumbled, walking to your side.

You tilted your head in confusion, “Hm?”

“Tenya, y/n. Just call me Tenya.” He softly repeated, smiling as he tapped his ID card to the reader beside the door, earning a small beep as the door unlocked for the both of you. 

He opened the door wide, nodding his head to the side to gesture you out. 

You smiled, clutching your laptop sleeve as you walked slowly past him, “Thank you,”

“...Tenya.” 

Goodness. A name should not have sounded that good on your lips, but the way you said his made his back stiff and his arms rigid. He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, cracking out a grin as he closed the door behind him, walking beside you towards the elevator. 

Small silence fell upon the two of you, one that you had grown familiar with. Tenya wasn’t the type to make unnecessary small talk if it wasn’t needed for hospitality. You and him were strictly, professionally business. A boss and his secretary. At times like these, you would sometimes grab the opportunity to update him on his schedule for the day tomorrow. But tonight was different, that silence felt… different. 

The elevator dinged, and he once again allowed you to enter first. With a nudge to his glasses, he cleared his throat as he stood beside you, subtly shifting his weight from feet to feet after he pressed the elevator button. The faint hum of swing jazz and the aroma of air freshener made it almost dramatic for you to be this nervous. You wanted to open your voice to inform him of his upcoming reviewing deadline, but how the heck do you just call your boss by his first name?! 

“It’s alright to call me by my name, y/n.” He croaked out, his eyes lingering on the elevator buttons as he chewed slightly on his bottom lip. 

You stiffened. “Oh– um… well, …T-tenya,” And he smiled.

“I just wanted to inform you that you’ll have some new… recruits to review, sir.” 

He nodded, his soft smile still not leaving his face as his gaze lingered on you a moment longer, broken by the elevator door opening. His arm stretched out to hold the door, gesturing for you to walk out first, as he mumbled a small, “Alright, remind me that tomorrow, hm?”

You nodded, “I will, sir.”

Tenya’s steps fell soft upon the marble floors as he exited the elevator, and you bowed. 

… “I-I’ll excuse myself then, sir.”

“Tenya, y/n.” He tuts, gently reminding you. 

And you chuckled, almost shy. “Right, right.”

“I’ll excuse myself. …Goodnight,”

“...Tenya.” You softly added, turning on your heel to make your way to the front exit. Your shoes made haste.

All of a sudden, everything felt slightly crooked on his body. Tenya’s knuckle nudged his glasses up his nose, his hand tugged on his coat, combing back his hair, goodness that stupid smile that crept up his mouth from the moment you turned away even felt too wide now. 

He cleared his throat again, drifting his body’s direction to the parking lot, a hand over his mouth, and the night’s cold air had never felt so warm on his face. 

Stop it, stop it, stop that, Tenya!

This is your secretary you are smiling about! Your secretary!

His steps quickened to the parking lot, his loafers trudging about onto the concrete floors as he rushed to his car, beeping it twice before he entered it like a man trying to hide from his assassin. 

Hands gripped onto the steering wheel, and with a long sigh, he started the engine. The car chirped around as he turned the key, and his radio switched on automatically. Sure, he wasn’t the type to listen to songs that much, yet this one just crept up into his ears. An old love song with its classic guitar melodies, lounging on about love is unexpected.

˚୨୧⋆.˚

At last! All the months of preparation and lobbying guests around the building, typing out proposals after proposals, staying back at the office until a few extra hours, the project’s done. It was the day. A charity event, held to fund scholarships for students around Japan. To say it is a success would be an understatement. The event had made itself known to the news, being casted upon to multiple news stations. 

Safe to say, Tenya was beyond proud that his hardwork now paid off. He grinned widely. Upon his hand, perched up a small champagne glass, swirling around with his small motions. 

“You look dashing tonight, Tenya.” You called from behind, cutting through his thoughts.

He immediately spun around, eyes wide and scattering as it looked for you. When they did find you, he may or may not have forgotten how to breathe for a moment. If having you in blazers and loose collared shirts wasn’t enough to make him short circuit, this definitely does its job. The way you had done your hair so effortlessly, yet so enchantingly, and how the soft glimmers from the chandelier made your eyes sparkle, not to mention the formalwear you had chosen for tonight fit a little bit too good on your body. His smile came out strained.

“Ah, thank you.” ahem. “You look… incredible tonight, y/n.” He managed to reply. 

And then you chuckled, and goodness it sounded so melodic to his ears, breathless and light. 

Tenya’s hand pushed his champagne glass to his mouth, sipping the clear bubbling liquid into his mouth to distract himself from the rising rhythm of his heart beat. 

“You look super proud tonight.” You teased, a small smirk as you nudged him lightly by his arm. 

This time it was his turn to chuckle, pursing his lips into a smile. “I couldn’t have done… all of this without your help, y/n.” He said, motioning his hand to the lively ballroom.

Before you could even reply, Tenya was barged around by his friends, congratulating him on his accomplishment of successfully hosting the event. As his hand got dragged away by them, he casted one last look to you, pressing up a pitiful grin as a silent apology, which you replied with a chuckle and a wave of your hand. 

So now here you are. In a bar. In between these people you barely know. Sure, some of them were actually your friends, but they were too busy celebrating the success. Others? Eh, maybe you greet them in the hallways in the mornings and evenings, but that was all. They laughed and giggled drunkenly. Singing and dancing together with their blazers loose, while some of the women only chatted by the counter. 

By the edges of the laughing men, there Tenya sat, his tux already disheveled, his hair loosen down to his flushed face as he laughed about some joke that probably wasn’t that funny. Then his eyes spotted you, making him stumble a bit until he reached you, grinning from ear to ear.

“Goodness, y/n…” He slurred out, leaning against the counter. And you couldn’t help but laugh, seeing your usually strict and discipline boss now all loose and giggly. 

Then he leans. Perhaps a little too close to you. Yet you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind when he swayed, pointing to your face, smiling stupidly with his alcohol reeked breath. “Youu…”

“You are… so amazing, you know that…?”

Hm? 

Come again?

You waved your hand as you chuckled, looking away to hide that small flush of pinkness on your cheeks. “I think you’ve had way too many for tonight, sir.”

“S’ Tenyaaa,” He whined, leaning closer to you. “Stop calling me sir, y/n…” 

You stifled back a laugh, rolling your eyes as you sighed. “Fiine, fine,”

“Tenya, I think you’ve had your fair share of alcohol for tonight.” 

He leans his head to the side, pushing the counter with his weight. His eyes downcast and hazy, he smiled softly to you. “You think so?” 

A small chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head. “I know so, si—Tenya.”

The table scraped softly as you pushed a small glass of water to him, clinking the glass with the back of your finger. “Maybe some water would do you good.” You smiled, nudging the glass once more to get his attention to it.

Then he smiles, leaning his head upon the counter with his arms below his chin. His eyes hazily looked into yours, as if he was…admiring you. His smile grew before his hand reached out, moving away a loose strand of hair off your face. It was soft, gentle, tender. Something you would never expect from the stiff and professional Tenya Iida. From your own boss. 

His touch lingered a moment on the side of your cheek, he tucked his hand away again beneath his chin before he spoke, “You…”

“How are you this radiant…?” He murmured quietly, head tilting just slightly as he narrowed his eyes in awe. 

The loud and chattering bar seemed to quiet down at that moment, while the heat in your cheeks rose up. You cleared your throat, pushing the glass towards him again with your face turned to the other way. “Drink some water, Tenya.” You reminded, brushing him off. 

A low chuckle was what you heard, along with fabric shuffling softly as he stood up again, still leaning to the counter top. “You’re ignoring me.” He said, amusement lacing his tone. 

“No, I’m reminding you, Tenya.”

“...You’re caring for me,” He smiled. Sure, you weren’t looking at him, but that small change in his tone was recognizable. Yet this one wasn’t really heard much by you. It was small, subtle, yet there was a tone of admiration in it. Like someone saying ‘Aww’. 

You scoffed, turning your head to look at him again. “I always do,” Well maybe you shouldn’t have said that. 

…

…

Ahem! The bar stool croaked through the floor as you stood up, collecting your bag and coat. 

“I’ll be calling that a night, Tenya.” You slipped out a small greeting, smiling to his still-leaning form.

His face dropped to a small frown, almost a pout. “You’re leaving…?” His question sounded more like a weak plea. Disappointed and sad about your farewell. 

You chuckled as you zipped your bag up. “Yes, Tenya.”

“Tomorrow I still need to be in the office.” You teased, tilting your head slightly as you smiled at him. 

“...I also need to be in the office, I’m your boss.” He scoffed, his tone cocky and proud.

“Exactly,”

Putting your coat back on, you rattled the keys of your car in your hand, sinking it into the pockets. You clutched your bag, straightening up your posture while you brush yourself off before bowing to him. “Goodnight, Tenya.”

“...Get home safe, okay?” You smiled, turning away to walk towards the exit. 

Darn you and your soothing voice. Darn you and your smile. Darn you. His gaze stayed pinpointed on you even as you opened the doors of the bar to exit it, walking with that pace he’s grown to know too well. Steady steps with sureness, like you always had somewhere to be. The smile crept back onto his face. His gaze drifted back to the glass of water as he huffed a chuckle, grabbing it into his hand before sipping it. 

With a slow shake of his head, he let out another chuckle, softer this time. 

“Little minx.."

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