Happy Birthday Miyuki Senpai!!

“Happy Birthday Miyuki senpai…!!”

NAAHHHHH HELPPPP MEEEEEE

Gift for leviyaperman: Katsuki isn’t sure what he did wrong today but surely he fucked up somewhere to end up in a situation like this. This being him and his boss in an elevator. Stuck. (ShinBaku, MHA)

Fuck you, Fuck me, Fuck it, Fuck today!

Read full on Ao3

tags: potty mouth company employee katsuki, composed CEO shinsou, sweat everywhere, stuck in an elevator, explicit (this post is M), undressing slowly

note: this was written as part of a gotcha 4 gaza. if you like mha the mha gotcha 4 gaza ( @myheroacademia-action ) is still taking donations (but may not be for too much longer) so get those donations and requests in soon!

i may or may not be doing more fics for this gotcha but if something keeps me up for days like this request... (hehehe)

p.s: i also used this post ( by @rarepairgremlin ) as inspiration for the title (and katsuki, hehe)

——————————————————————————

Katsuki isn’t sure what he did wrong today but surely he fucked up somewhere to end up in a situation like this. This being him and his boss in an elevator. Stuck. 

His day had started like any other day: wake up, go for a run, shower, and have breakfast. The only difference today had been the time he left his house. His department had gotten a new recruit this month and Katsuki had been saddled with his clumsy ass. While most of his mistakes had been simple things like making extra copies or stapling things incorrectly, the day before he’d really messed up. Deleting files messed up. And with Katsuki as the kid’s team leader, he’d had to clean up (and redo) all their hard work. 

Hard work that had taken them a month to do. 

Hard work that he had to redo in just a few days or risk losing contracts. 

That’s why he’d stayed late at the office the night before and come in early today. Early enough to walk into the elevator, turn around, and see his boss with his raised hand, asking him to hold the elevator. And Katsuki knew his place. He held the elevator doors open with a grunt. 

And now here they were. Stuck somewhere between the seventh and eighth floor. 

He grinds his teeth and his boss raises a brow, amused. Katsuki thinks that if he lets the work pile up on him, he’ll start to look like him. All frazzled and tired and looking like some mad scientist. An attractive mad scientist…

He bangs his fist against the elevator wall and growls out (very disrespectfully), “All this money and you can’t even make sure everything works properly?!”

It’s been at least 30 minutes since they called in the problem, but the mechanical voice of the receptionist had been unhurried, Remember proper protocol. Do not try to open the doors or climb out of the lift. We have already called for help. Please wait for further instructions. 

Which, shit, what’s the point of the help button if the receptionist has to call someone else for help too! 

His boss smiles, “I didn’t think I had to explain the power of nature to you, Bakugou. Or did you forget we’re in the middle of typhoon season?”

Typhoon season. Possibly the worst season of the year. And no, Katsuki didn’t forget. It was hard to forget when the humidity burrowed its way between the space of his skin and clothes, making everything feel two sizes smaller, and activated pores he knew he didn’t have half the year.

And this was his other problem. It would have been fine if they’d been stuck in say, December, but now? He could feel his sweat building up in his pits and back. 

His boss looks down at his phone and speaks absentmindedly. He’d taken off his suit jacket after he’d made the call and it was folded neatly over his briefcase, which was flat on the floor, “The light is still on and we were able to call for help, so it’s not a matter of a power outage…”

Which meant…

Katsuki’s voice was slightly strained when he said, “Something must have malfunctioned with the rain last night. They’ll have to call Elecplant and Izumo Tech.”

He gets a nod as confirmation. 

“Fuck me,” he mumbles, “I’m never going to get anything done today.” 

His boss loosens his tie with an amused smile, “Not exactly the words I’d use but yes, we’ll likely be here for a while.”

Katsuki scowls, “Fuck you. I’m not watching my tongue in this situation.” He pauses, then asks, “I’m getting paid for this, right?” Because it’s not Katsuki’s fault they’re stuck there. 

“Yes, though I’d suggest you decide who is getting fucked.” 

Katsuki blinks. His boss’s voice sounds a bit strained when he says fucked but did he… “Did you just…make a joke?”

It could be the heat or embarrassment, but Katsuki notices the redness in his boss’s face. He wipes his own face with his sleeve and grimaces. They’re both wearing white button-ups. 

His boss shrugs, leaning back against his side of the elevator. Katsuki mimics his posture and smirks, “You know…I could report you for sexual harassment.”

“I believe you started it.”

And Katsuki laughs. He unbuttons his shirt as well, “Are we pointing fingers now?”

“There isn’t much else we can do, is there?” 

He leaves the question hanging and it must be the stress of so many problems piling up, but Katsuki’s mind wanders when he looks at his boss. He licks his lips and watches the way his eyes follow his tongue. 

I can think of a few things, is left unsaid between them.

.

.

By the hour mark Katsuki has already unbuttoned his shirt and his tank top is a mess of sweat. He takes it off but instead of making him feel better, he feels even more uncomfortably sticky. The air is thick. His boss checks his watch and makes an annoyed sound. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Katsuki growls, “How the fuck do you think I feel? Like I’m in a damn sauna! Fuck today! I should have called in sick!”

His boss laughs. He’s unbuttoned his own top as well, but only about halfway down his chest. He’s also pushed up his sleeves because (as the CEO) he needs to keep up appearances. 

“I always thought you were the diligent type,” he says.

Katsuki scoffs, “I am. My whole department would fall apart without me.”

His boss is quiet for a moment and then says, his voice a mumble, “I can see why.”

And Katsuki likes it. The way his boss looks him over with approval.

.

.

Two hours. 

They stay glued to their respective sides for that long. It also takes Katsuki that long to decide that he doesn’t care about the camera in the elevator. He unbuckles his belt and pulls off his pants, “Fuck it!”

His boss chokes, “What are you- Don’t tell me you’re- Why? ”

And it’s only once he’s removed his stupid pants that he feels slightly better. But looking at his boss still in his button-up (now completely unbuttoned) is making him feel bothered. 

He smirks, “Getting shy on me? We’re both guys, you know what this is.”

Read the E on AO3

He tries to keep his tone light, to make it seem like he doesn’t care, but his voice gets softer when he says the word ‘serious’, and then he needs to clear his throat because why does it feel like he’s choking all of a sudden?! (ReiMobRei, MP100)

In Need of a Trim

Read full on Ao3

tags: age angst, canon age gap, insecure 50yo reigen, kisses, haircuts, grey hairs, comfort, dates, rated E but this PV is sfw

note: this is a rewrite of another fic i wrote called "a grey hair a day" so if you read that one already, this one has more scenes, specifically from reigens pov in the hopes of a more balanced dynamic (idk if i succeeded tho ;o;)

p.s: i told myself i would submit an mp100 prompt for this bang i joined and I FORGOT *cries* maybe i'll update the drabbles fic i have, i kind of want to write something for them, lmk if you have any ideas~

——————————————————————————

Reigen is almost 50 years old when Mob realizes that he’s been dying his hair regularly. He’s not sure how he missed it, thinking back on it now. The signs are obvious: Reigen coming home with a different set of clothes (the job got a bit messy, that’s all) and how unnaturally glossy his hair looked sometimes (oh you know, I’ve been trying out this new product, it’s supposed to make you GLOW ). But his biggest clue should have been Reigen’s age

Ritsu is younger than Mob and he’s been showing grey hairs since he turned 30. Ritsu, as usual, never fails to make a pointed remark toward Reigen at Mob’s observation

“Ritsu,” Mob admonishes him. Ritsu had come to visit Seasoning City (he’d moved out years ago) for their parents’ birthdays and had made plans to have dinner with him. They were now at a restaurant near Reigen’s office (yes, they were still doing Spirit Consulting and yes, Ritsu was still slightly bitter about that)

Ritsu rolls his eyes, “Fine. Fine. I’m sorry, but really? Even Mom, who used all those anti-aging products, got grey hairs before she hit 50.”

“But I’ve never seen him with any grey hairs,” he counters. 

Ritsu, who had been about to take another bite of his hamburger, pauses. He shrugs a second later, “He probably dyes it. I can’t think of another explanation.”

He digs in and chews, thinking, and then nods, his mouth still slightly occupied, “Pro’ly w’ried.”

Mob frowns, genuinely confused, “Worried? About what?”

Ritsu smiles at him, “You really are still the same when it comes to some things. Fine! I’ll help. It’s his age, Shigeo. His partner is 14 years younger than him! He’s probably worried about how that looks to others.”

He sends one of those looks at Mob and Mob decides to ignore it. He’s focused on this revelation. Yes, he’s conscious that Reigen and he have a rather hefty age gap and many people have expressed their disapproval throughout their lives, but this had been something the two talked about before. 

He thought that Reigen had understood that age was something Mob didn’t care about, but as he continues to talk with Ritsu, he realizes that perhaps he hadn’t been as reassuring as he could have been. He’d need to try harder, and the first step was to see if Reigen was truly dying his hair

.

.

.

He’s not exactly sure how to bring up the subject. If Ritsu is right and Reigen IS dying his hair (Mob is realizing the possibility of this being true has now shot up to 99%) because he’s worried, should he just march into their home and announce, Reigen, I don’t care if you have grey hairs, I think they’re beautiful?

Reigen would surely call him a liar and he’d partially be one. After all, he’d never actually seen these alleged grey hairs (but Mob knows he’d love them because they were Reigen’s grey hairs, so no, he wouldn’t really be lying)

.

.

.

Reigen realizes something is wrong with Mob immediately. He hasn’t been officially together with Mob for nearly a decade for nothing! His usual modus operandi is to let Mob come to him, to let him sort out his thoughts and feelings, which is why he doesn’t say anything. 

He doesn’t say anything when he feels Mob’s stare all day as he’s trying to convince a pair of teenagers that him being old is actually a good thing, It’s the young swindlers you need to be wary of! I have wisdom beyond my years! Besides, he coughs, we’ve been doing this for longer than you tweens have been alive. We’re experts! Right Mob?

Mob misses his cue and Reigen nearly swats the little twerp who mutters, He doesn’t look like he’s all there either…

Luckily, he does come back to his senses when it’s time to do the job, which somehow ends up with Reigen falling into a ditch and ruining his trademark suit. It’s been a while since that’s happened and Mob apologizes so much that Reigen decides to show him that yes, he’s more than forgiven, and no, it’s not your job to stop my every fall, it’s ok, besides, we finished the job quickly, you did really well

As they lay in bed, Reigen the big spoon this time, he can’t help but wonder if this has something to do with him and that’s why (a week after Reigen noticed) Mob hasn’t said anything

.

.

.

It most definitely is related to Reigen. 

Reigen really hates to bring up his age as an explanation for everything (he’s come to realize that this is an “old-man” trait), but in this case, he’s sure becaus e he’s no spring chicken. But also, Mob is a little too fixated on him, touching his hair and face at random moments with no mind to their setting, petting him , watching him when he thinks Reigen isn’t paying attention, staring him down when Reigen decides to make eye contact, his mind silently screaming tell me what’s wrong! This is your chance! But no.

It’s honestly starting to get a bit unnerving and since he doesn’t want to live the rest of his unmarried married life with a quiet, potentially too contemplative, and getting creepier by the week Mob (he’s not even sure how he survived a month of this already!), he decides to ask for some help

He’s at the station with a disgruntled Ritsu on the line. He’s tight-lipped. 

“You do realize my allegiance is with my brother and that I hate you, right?”

The sound of the train leaving echoes in the space, making Ritsu nearly inaudible but Reigen has heard this line so many times, his brain fills in the words he misses. And, like always, he replies, “Don’t you get tired of lying? I know you don’t actually hate me. Besides,” he counters, “I don’t want you to spill, I just…need a hint. Is it…serious?”

He tries to keep his tone light, to make it seem like he doesn’t care, but his voice gets softer when he says the word ‘serious’, and then he needs to clear his throat because why does it feel like he’s choking all of a sudden?! 

A little voice, the traitorous one that sounds like his parents, whispers in his ear, feeding his fear of losing Mob. He’s probably tired of you and is trying to run you off, what did you expect, at your age

“Aren’t you with my brother now? Just ask him.” Except that they’re not together and that’s the reason he called Ritsu.

“It’s been a busy season so we split up to cover more ground.” Mob hadn’t wanted them to, saying it could be dangerous, but Reigen had a thing for weeding out most of the non-spirits-related cases and had taken on those jobs

Ritsu sighs dramatically, “Fine!”

And Reigen should be happy at the admittance but he knows Ritsu so he’s sure he’s not getting what he wants. Ritsu is only compromising, but that doesn’t stop him from smiling, or his heart from hammering in his chest, worried and anxious. He’s sure he paints an interesting picture. He’s already paid his fair but he’s standing in an alcove in the middle of the station, his suit tattered at the back, mud on his knees and calves, and a few scratches on his hands

He’s probably sweating a lot too. He can feel it

“It’s not what you’re imagining! That’s all I’m giving away!” he yells and then mutters a not-so-quiet, you two are equally hopeless! before the line goes dead

.

.

.

Reigen makes it back home before Mob, which surprises him. He’s moving on autopilot: removing his clothes (ruined), washing off the grime and smell of angry cats from his hair (it’s getting long again), and then soaking his tired bones (why is he so tired?). It’s when he’s sitting in the tub (for how long, he’s not even sure) that he snaps back to reality. He yells out, “How do you even know what I’m imagining?!”

Yelling helps him relax and then he starts laughing at how ridiculous this all is. At how ridiculous he’s being

He shakes his head, “At least he didn’t say not to call back this time.” Not that Reigen ever listens to that demand

Mob comes home right when Reigen is dry, but still only wrapped in a towel, debating whether to try and save his suit pants or just throw them away. 

(They decide to try and save them together)

.

.

.

Mob finally says something three months later. It’s summer, the heat is unbearable even at night, and Reigen is upset about how long his hair is. He’s fresh out of the shower, wearing his loose and comfy pajamas and Mob beckons him over to the couch. 

He uses his powers to turn on the light so that it isn’t just the light from the TV bouncing on the walls. Reigen sits next to him and Mob maneuvers them so that Reigen is between his legs. He uses the towel around Reigen’s neck to start drying his hair

“What’s wrong?” he asks. Reigen bumps his back a few times and groans when Mob applies a bit more pressure with his powers. 

“My hair is getting too long and the place I usually go to just closed!” he complains, “The owner retired and the girl that works there decided to open up her own place elsewhere. I’m happy for her. They pay better in the big city, but now I’ll have to find a new place.”

Mob touches the ends of Reigen’s damp hair and smiles, “It is getting a little long.”

Reigen leans back, further into Mob, which makes drying his hair more difficult, but Mob doesn’t mind. He puts his arms around his waist and breathes in the smell of Reigen’s shampoo. 

“I wonder if Tome can recommend something. She’s always going to salons with her wife.” Reigen’s voice is less directed at Mob and more just him talking to himself. 

“I can cut it for you,” Mob suggests. He’s not even sure why he says it. He’s never cut hair before. 

Reigen turns to him and raises his brow, “Don’t tell me you’re secretly a professional barber?”

Mob kisses Reigen’s crow’s feet and smiles, “No, but I’m sure I can learn. For you.”

Reigen contemplates, “I don’t know…”

Mob has him sit up so he can finish drying his hair. Once it feels dry enough, he sends the towel to the back of one of the kitchen chairs and runs his hands through Reigen’s hair. He smooths it down and as he’s running his fingers through the hairs covering his ears (definitely needs a trim), he sees them. Little grey hairs sticking out, barely visible, and only the roots

Mob leans down to kiss his hair, right behind his ear, and whispers, “Beautiful.”

.

.

.

Mob’s staring stops but the hair touching (somehow) intensifies and Reigen realizes what this is all really about. 

They’ve always had a routine before bed, which consists of Mob helping Reigen dry his hair and Reigen (usually) giving him a massage (he’s only gotten better after all these years of practice). But now Mob wants to comb his hair, especially on days when Reigen wakes up with bedhead. Since it’s easier (and feels nicer) than pulling out mirror after mirror to try and see the back of his head, Reigen agrees to Mob’s insistence

But not always! I can’t have you pampering me every day. Think of it as a treat. And when Mob’s face lights up, Reigen realizes it’ll be a treat for them both

It doesn’t stop there. Mob also makes sure Reigen sees that he’s serious about his hair-cutting proposition. They’re in the office, Mob at the computer, looking up hair-cutting tutorials and they’re all (un)surprisingly for short hairstyles like his. 

Reigen hovers behind Mob’s chair. 

They’d been so busy for the last few months but this week things had finally started to slow down. Today almost seemed like an anomaly. They’d had no scheduled clients (potentially suspicious) but also no walk-ins either. He’d briefly considered closing early but with age also came this need to do something, to be useful . He couldn’t just close up for no reason

“You’re serious about this,” he says after Mob clicks on a new video.

“I’m always serious about you, about us,” Mob replies without a second thought.

Read the E on AO3

ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧ for @mangostarjam

Made some emotes for my smol server.