rip mike wheeler you would’ve loved being a man with a podcast
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i typically only like to write bakugou who is on-his-knees obsessed with you, but lately i've been thinking about him letting us in 🥺 and it's not that he does or doesn't have eyes for us, it's just not something he allows, because he's so caught up in his job 🥺 and you're nice and fine, but he doesn't let it go further than that 🥺
until it's after the agency christmas party and everyone is getting ready to go home. and you've had a little bit to drink, enough to give you some liquid confidence, and you happen to see dynamight in his office, finishing up on work that can—and should—wait until monday.
you pop into his doorway like, "hey, can i tell you something terrible?"
all you get is a soft grunt of acknowledgement, as he ruffles around in his draw for some odd thing, and he only looks up at you when you don't speak right away. eyebrows raised in waiting, face calm, a little tired, and he watches you shuffle slowly into his office, frowning when you sit at the edge of his desk.
"i actually really, really like you, you know?"
and—his brain shuts off. no thoughts, nothing. partially as a defense mechanism, to not allow himself to get caught up in some confession, and partially because—he can't believe it. yeah, passes are made at him semi-regularly and he's grown accustomed to ignoring them, but this is from you, his little event planner. someone that does their job well and has good work ethic, that takes what they do seriously and with great care.
someone he wouldn't expect to look at him in such a way. someone that wouldn't bullshit him.
you say that it's terrible, but you're smiling anyway, shaking your head at the look that must cross his face. "you're so—hardworking, you know? and you're funny and i like working for you. you're a good employer, bakugou."
it makes his stomach twist, then, the way you say his name. not sir or dynamight, but his real name.
"and you're super handsome, of course." you laugh, missing the pink flush on his face as you watch your twiddling fingers. "not that i—nothing—i'm not expecting anything from this, by the way, i just—" you shrug, finally looking at him. him, who is slack-jawed with wide-eyes, that is speechless. "just wanted to let you know, i guess."
and then you're gone, giving him a small, shy wave and letting out another nervous laugh before disappearing down the hallway. leaving him to sit in the silence by himself, wondering what it would feel like to accept you, finally.
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