#workplace shenanigans

Reader isn't serious. That's the important thing.

This isn't some grand seduction plan. You're not trying to date anyone.

You just happen to think life is more fun when people are slightly flustered.

Unfortunately for the ER staff, they are your favourite victims.

This is a work of fanfiction based on The Pitt. I do not own The Pitt or any related characters or settings; all original material belongs to their respective creators.

Also, I did not Google “milk machine” while I was at work. I wasn’t born yesterday!

Potter, in a fit of rage, is quite the sight to behold. Magic sizzles around him, errant curls escape his lazy bun, spectacles sit a touch too crooked on his nose.

Draco sips his tea. “A transfer request.”

“For Merlin’s sake—“ Potter rubs the bridge of his nose, a tell Draco’s learnt to mean he’s confused and scattered, and entirely unwilling to admit it. “I can read, Malfoy. Why?”

“Article 9, Section 3 of the Auror Code of Conduct—“

“No,” Potter cuts him off. “Absolutely not.”

Draco puts his tea down.

“I wouldn’t have thought,” he begins, slow and careful, “that you’d have already forgotten— what we did. Right in this office, in fact.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Potter says. The transfer request is crumpling in his fist.

“Then you also remember it’s against the rules for us to remain partners—“

Potter stalks closer, until he’s towering over Draco’s desk. Draco’s mouth is desert-dry.

“Fuck the rules,” he says. This close, his scar always takes Draco by surprise, stark and ridged and white, cutting across his forehead and the top of his cheekbone. This close, now and every other time, he’s a riot of messy intensity. Draco can’t look away. “Merlin, Draco, when have I given a fuck about the rules? You leave me, I leave the MLE, there’s no point—”

“Potter,” Draco says. He’s weak and has never resisted temptation well. It’s no surprise this is all it takes for him to reach and cup Harry’s jaw, jittery thumb catching on the stubble shadowing his cheek. “Harry, I’m not that special.”

“Tell me you’re doing this because you think you have to,” Harry says, quiet and low. “Tell me you felt like you must, and not because you— because you want to get away from me. If it’s that, then I won’t stand in—“

“Don’t be silly.” It comes out sharp and affectionate, and Harry’s shoulders relax a little. “Nobody—“ he swallows, “—nobody else I’d trust to get my coffee order right, is there?” A flicker of a smile. Draco’s spirit sings. “Or—“ he says, huge and irrevocable and far too honest, “have my back in a fight. Only. It’s only you, isn’t it?”

Harry’s hand comes up, covers Draco’s where it still rests, trembling and uncertain on his cheek. He pulls it away, and for a split second Draco almost panics, until he realises Harry is lacing their fingers together, grip tight.

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Harry says. “The— us.” His mouth ghosts over Draco’s knuckles, warm and soft and plaintive. “I wanted it so long, Draco.”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” Draco acquiesces.

They stare at each other, long, silent moments, breaths heavy.

“I’ll stay,” Draco nods eventually. “Of course I’ll stay, all you had to do was ask, just, say something Potter. Don’t you know that?”

Harry lights up with a grin so broad Draco wants to taste it, dip his tongue into it, merge his mouth with—

But Harry’s stepping back, towards the dustbin in the corner. Draco has a moment of confusion before Harry straightens out the transfer request still bunched in his grip and rips it to pieces. The parchment flutters, confetti-like, to the floor.

“You’re stuck with me,” Harry says, serious and determined, even though the smile hasn’t quite left his mouth. “Right here.”

“Where else—“ Draco clears his throat when the words come out raspy and tangled, “Harry. Where else would I possibly want to be?”

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — suggestive ⋆ implied sexual activity ⋆ workplace risk ⋆ innuendo ⋆ team interruption ⋆ black male reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The lab is too quiet.

Which, for Abby’s space, is already suspicious.

No music blasting. No humming. No random goth rambling about trace evidence. Just the soft buzz of equipment—and the sound of Abby trying (and failing) to stifle a laugh.

“You’re gonna get us caught,” you murmur low, voice right by her ear.

She grins, that dangerous grin.

“Oh, please,” she whispers back, fingers still loosely hooked in your shirt. “Gibbs would’ve knocked already.”

That’s the problem.

Gibbs always knocks.

And he hasn’t.

Your hands rest at her waist a second longer than they should—than is safe—before she leans in again, nose brushing yours, boots nudging yours between the lab tables like she’s forgotten where she is entirely.

“Abby…” you warn, but there’s no real weight behind it.

Not when she looks at you like that.

Not when her lipstick is slightly smudged and you know why.

Not when....

The door slides open.

Silence.

The kind that hits like a brick.

You step back just enough to look normal—too normal. Abby spins around toward her computer way too fast, typing absolute nonsense like her life depends on it.

The team stands there.

Watching.

Processing.

Tony squints immediately. “…why is it so quiet in here?”

McGee is already noticing everything, the proximity, the flushed faces, the way Abby’s pigtails are slightly uneven. His eyes widen a little.

Kate folds her arms slowly, eyebrow raised. “…should we come back or…?”

Abby doesn’t even turn around. “NOPE. Totally fine! Just—science! Doing science things! Very science.”

You clear your throat, adjusting your shirt like that’ll magically fix everything.

Tony takes two steps in, looking around dramatically. “Huh. No music. No caffeine rant. No dancing…”

He looks between you and Abby.

Then smirks.

“Oh.”

Abby finally turns, smiling way too brightly. “Oh what, Tony?”

He gestures vaguely between the two of you. “Nothing. Just… didn’t know lab work came with… extracurricular activities.”

“OUT,” Abby points to the door instantly.

Kate lets out a small laugh, already turning. “Yeah, we’re definitely interrupting something.”

McGee is still staring, mumbling, “I—uh—I’ll just email you.....whatever this is.....later.”

Tony backs out slowly, hands up. “Hey, hey, continue your research. We support science.”

The door slides shut.

Silence again.

Abby waits exactly two seconds..

Then bursts out laughing, doubling over against the table.

“Oh my god, did you SEE their faces?!”

You drag a hand down your face, half embarrassed, half amused. “We’re never hearing the end of this.”

She straightens, stepping closer again like nothing happened, eyes sparkling.

“Worth it,” she says simply.

Then, softer...,

He was wearing a hospital gown and the bandages on his hand were red like the wound underneath wasn't even healed at all

This guy who totally just escaped from the nearby hospital then asks me for money to pay his taxi and I'm nothing if not a feeble mind so I just. Hand it over like 😭 ok sure 😭 Bro if you're gonna escape from a hospital it's not worth coming back to work 😭

Thanks for the tag @mobiusismycomfortcharacter

This is from the upcoming chapter of Dark Necessities.

The dull green neon glow and the low humming of the salad vending machine always put Mobius into a sort of trance. He stood before it now, blinking lazily at the twenty or so identical plates for a good few minutes before he remembered he was supposed to insert his tokens into the machine.

Before he could do so, he sensed someone coming up behind him till they were close enough for him to feel their body heat.

“Good morning,” Loki spoke casually into his ear.

Then a hand snaked its way into his pants pocket. Mobius couldn’t help it when his breath hitched as the hand fumbled around, looking to grab a handful of… his tokens.

By the time he’d caught his breath, a robotic arm was depositing Loki’s salad into the retrieval slot.

decay.txt - me chatting. filter this if u want all the posts where i talk.

thing i made - i make art sometimes

neverland roomies - about my roomies (<- outdated, i do not live there anymore)

flat life - currently living with my sister in a small flat

cat - we have cats.

decaying sick days - posting while sick

i speak german sometimes - posts in german

work posting - posting during company time (i would never)

posting work - about work itself

vent post - self-explanatory