#i even did a good job at a quick two slide presentation that my boss normally gives

[ilkkawhat]

i have never resonated more with that image of matthew mcconaughey smoking, and have not felt such chaos at work like this in a long time

[soobmint]

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.” 

-

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of  boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest. 

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together. 

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

- 

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood. 

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck. 

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure. 

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face. 

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into. 

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

-

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back. 

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

[katsukikitten]

I present to you overworked. A comfort one shot I made hella quick for @mindninjax myself and anyone else who needs some bakugou comfort today. Please enjoy and let Bakugou be here for you if no one else can. 😊

Header by me!

Your phone softly vibrates on your desk as your eyes burn from staring at a screen filled with information that is familiar, information that you should know but just cannot retain. 

Or focus. 

So your phone is a happy distraction as you reach for it, only to be slightly annoyed by to a message from your hot headed friend. 

Grumpyasshole: Oi, haven't heard from you in that stupid ass group chat all week. Dunce face and shitty hair wanna know what's pissed in your cheerios 

Tongue in your cheek you debate on replying. You had ignored a slew of messages from your friends, in the group chat and even your dms sat smiling faces trapped in their little bubbles but you had always turned your phone face down. Too caught up in stress to be able to fulfill any social quota but your friends must have been desperate to convince the token grump of the group to message you. Privately at that. 

In a matter of seconds your thumbs slide across the virtual keyboard, knowing you could be honest with Bakugou, that the Pro hero could handle any sort of emotional load with ease. 

You thought it most likely because he did not care in the first place to store the baggage, at least not anywhere for long. 

You: Just feeling really run down from work. I think I'm over my head but probably too prideful to admit. Lol. Please tell everyone I'm sorry, that I'm just busy and I'll be back on my bullshit hopefully by Friday. 

Before you can even set your phone down you see that Bakugou leaves you on read. Your snort softly as you shake your head, tossing your phone aside for work. 

"Typical." You mutter to yourself. Reaching for your iced coffee only to find it empty. You debate if you should take a trip to get more. On one hand the air, despite the rain would do you good, you're sure your deskmate would gladly take a coffee. On the other, everyone in the office would stuff your hands with bills and credit cards begging you'd bring them some of that sweet nectar back. No one would care that you wouldn't haven't a hand for your umbrella and your hair would get totally fucked. 

So you decide to suffer in silence, as you always do. 

Hours slip through your fingers before your eyes glance at the small clock on the bottom right hand side of your computer. Steadily counting the minutes in the small banner. You sigh. Bringing your head down between your arms as your fingers lightly fist your hair at your nape. You felt as if you accomplished nothing, what with how much was left. 

At least your desk was clean and your shirt was cute, a good view for a few spine numbing minutes. You think you smell caramel wafting through the air, a part of you annoyed that your desk mate would venture the rain for her normal caramel latte without offering 

This is how Bakugou finds you when he approaches your desk, a sneer settled on his handsome features. Dirt and sweat clinging to his skin and the dark fabric of his hero suit. He crosses his arms, long gone are the obnoxious grenade gauntlets as his chest puffs. 

People in the office are staring at the blonde, his jagged domino mask making his garnet eyes that much more intense. Tension rises in the air as you're so oblivious, still collecting yourself silently praying that when you look back up the clock would read closer to five. 

"Oi." His voice is a deep rumble, not belonging in the office. No it belonged in the living room of your crazy packed house to one of your many roommates. It belonged at a bar, nagging that it's time to go when you were too drunk to fend off any prying hands, pestering you about your feet as he dragged you home. This voice belonged in the kitchen fussing at Denki for the stupid memes he puts in the group chat when all of you were 'right fucking here'. 

This voice did not belong in the office and so a part of you thinks you're seriously losing your shit before you glance up at the clock. Time moved like a sloth for you since the last you looked only ten minutes had passed. Kronos laughing at your plea of having time continue to move as light speed only to seemingly stop. 

"OI! Is yer head so far up yer ass ya can't fuckin hear me now, Princess?" Wait, who was using that nickname? 

That nickname thrust upon you by that grumpy asshole roommate once he saw how "high maintenance" you were when clearly you just cared about yourself for yourself. He did it as a jest but it made your whole body heat and go rigid every damn time. 

And he took notice in it. 

Delight even. 

And took notice in the way you hadn't been putting in much effort for yourself. Not taking the time for your hair, or your skincare routine that you forced on the whole house. Everyone dewy in their own right. How you look disheveled and bewildered now as you turned to face him. 

Large eyes going doe like, mouth forming in the smallest O that had him shifting his weight from one foot to the other because of his darker, lingering thoughts. 

How would you sound when he was buried…

He cuts the thought off with a pop of his skin, pulling you to your feet from your desk. 

"What are you doing?" Your voice cracks from shock, worry and a bit of venom leaks through but you make no effort to break free. 

"Wrap this shit up. I told yer boss I need your dumb ass for something." 

"Like what? I-" Bakugou cuts you off by leaning in close, eyes dark as he presses his lips to the shell of your ear. 

"You need a fucking day off. So I told your boss to fuck off and that you're coming home with me." His tone absolute. So you save your last bit of work, clock out before Bakugou passes you your jacket. He glares into the glass of your manager's office and you notice him crumble beneath that infamous burning gaze. 

Part of you wonders what Bakugou had really said, wonders if you'd still had a job. 

The two of you stand under the awning of your office building. The rain coming down in sheets, thick enough it almost blurs the cityscape.  Bakugou sighs, tension leaving his body as he tilts his neck. It cracks from the effort. 

"So what...what are we gonna do?" 

"I'm going to take your stupid ass home. Force you to shower while I order take out, then I'm going to set your overworked ass on the couch and we are going to watch that fucking movie you never shut up about. Got it Princess?" He fixes you a glare and is extra careful to drag out your nickname ever so slightly as he leans towards you. Your faces are close together, your heart in your throat as you try to push down these stupid, fleeting feelings you've had for the hot head since the six of you moved into that almost run down house. 

But you never could shake them. 

You senses fill with spiced caramel, easing the tension of your shoulders. 

"G-got it." 

[nucleiaster]

[Transcript under the cut]

So, uh... Here’s a quick intro post for my novel to provide more context for my illustrations. If you want to see more of these characters, check out my “radio isotope” tag.

Disclaimer : I’m a visual artist, not a writer, I write very slowly and in French because my English is shitposting-on-the-internet good, not writing-two-entire-novels good, so I won’t post writing excerpts unless I’m very proud of it (and after i finish writing this whole thing and find someone to help me translate it). Also I’m still working on the outline (rebuilding the entire thing from scratch), but I have a LOT of illustrations ideas so stick around for those i guess ?

Powerpoint ID :

A 7-slide powerpoint, written in comic sans.

Slide 1: The Radio Isotope (working title) : a comic sans presentation by Sanasean. This story has been a work in progress since 2016 and i’m finally making progress. also powerpoints are harder to do than i remember.

Slide 2 : What ? When ? Where ? Space pirates ! In the future ! In SPACE !!!!       In the Andromeda Galaxy, approx. 1000 years in the future. Humanity left the earth and somehow ended up a whole galaxy away. Their spaceships were discovered by Isshan explorers (the Isshan are one of the many aliens species that live in Andromeda and the founder of the Union, the galactic government) and they were given a planet (Noutéra) and Union citizenship.        Why did the humans leave the earth ? Where the fuck is even the earth ? idk lol (the Noutéran government says they fled because an asteroid was going to destroy the planet. Weirdly enough, people who try to investigate the earth and humanity’s exodus tend to disapear under mysterious circumstances).        The inhabitants of the galaxy don’t care about why humans came to Andromeda, they just want to live their lives in peace. It’s pretty easy when you live near the Center, where the seat of the Union is located, but a bit more difficult for the people who live on the Edges, near the unexplored parts of the galaxy, where space pirates, mercenaries and bounty hunters thrive. And that’s where our story takes place.

Slide 3 : Plot (aka where are the protagonists and antagonists at the beginning of the story).       The Captain is… the captain... of the Radio Isotope, a small spaceship with a small crew of space pirates. Well, space smugglers more exactly, but the Captain IS a space pirate so his crew are pirates as well. They are not having a lot of luck lately, and going from failed job to failed job. After a botched scavenging mission (the spaceship they were supposed to loot was not even there), they finally land a pretty easy smuggling job AND they get a paying passenger, a young human named Nua. Except luck is still not on their side because Nua is hunted by bounty hunters for reasons she doesn’t even know, and the tiny radio isotope ends up prey to the biggest bounty hunter spaceship of the galaxy, the Imperator.        The Emperor is a mystery. Captain of the Imperator, immortal (?), a robot (???) and obsessed by the earth. They will stop at nothing to get the information they want, and with the imperator’s firepower rivaling that of a planet’s army, they do not fear Noutéra. They are the scourge of pirates, the hero of the Edges, a thorn in the Union’s side . And for some reason, they’re after the radio isotope.

Slide 4 : Main characters : the ones whose problems end up ruining everyone’s day. Above the text describing each character is a portrait of them.

The Captain (he/him) : Image ID : The Captain is a humanoid alien, with warm brown skin, four red eyes, dark red hair and beard, cat-like whiskers and a pair of horns, the right one broken at the base. He is looking at the camera, unimpressed, frowning slightly. End image ID. - Isshan - he’s the boss of the RI. - lived his whole life in space, and most of it as a pirate. - never stays more than one month in a place. - never talks about his past. - great storyteller, atrocious liar. - walks with a cane, which can turn into a rapier. he’s pretty deadly with it.

The Emperor (They/Them) Image ID : The Emperor appears to be a robot. Their head is vaguely shaped like a tortoise skull, with three more eye sockets, two behind the normal eyes and one on the top of the head. They have four fangs and the shape of their jaws make it so they are always slightly smiling. Neon green light comes from the inside of their head, contrasting with the dark metal the rest of their relatively humanoid body is made of. They are wearing a light gray-green cape covering their shoulders. End image ID. - ????? robot ??? haunted armor ??? - they have been haunting the Edges for more than 100 years. - there are a LOT of legends about them, and most of them are true. - where they go, the Imperator goes. - they have an informator network that spans half the galaxy. - strict but fair captain.

Slide 5 : The Radio Isotope’s crew : Lovable space pirates. Above the text describing each character is a portrait of them. 

Etha (she/her) Image ID : Etha is a humanoid alien, with light blue skin, white feathery hair and very large white eyes. Her nose is almost non existent, and her mouth opens from ear to ear. She is looking straight at the camera, head slightly tilted to the right. End image ID. - the first mate. - armisian (alien with telepathic abilities). - cartographer, ethnologist and linguist. - braincell of the crew.

Jill (she/they) Image ID : Jill is a human with dark brown skin, straight black hair cut short on the left side and a black right eye. She has scars across her nose, her lips and around her artificial left eye. They are smiling to the camera. End image ID. - the mechanic. - fixed the ship so it could fly, lost her right arm and eye in a reactor accident. - first recruit. - fiercely loyal to the captain, but argues with him on a daily basis.

Meden (ael/aer) Image ID : Meden looks exactly like Etha, being her twin sibling. Ael is looking to aer right, and seems a bit confused. End image ID. - the doctor. - etha’s twin. - not really a fan of the pirate or spationaut life tbh. - mom of the crew.

Nua (she/her) Image ID : Nua is a human, with light beige-pinkish skin, green eyes and light brown hair in a bun. She has freckles on her cheeks and nose and a wide smile. End image ID. - the lost human. - pretended she could pay to travel to another planet to flee her pursuers. - stuck on the RI now. - kinda maybe in love with jill.

Slide 6 : The Imperator’s crew : scum and villainy (unless ?...). Above the text describing each character is a portrait of them. 

Wënn (she/her) Image ID : Wënn is a human with pale beige skin, long straight black hair let loose on her right side and braided on her left side, and sad blue eyes. She has freckles all over her face and is smiling apologetically at the camera. End image ID. - the second in command. - she doesn’t really know what she’s doing here, she was a docker before the Emperor made her their second. - very kind. - swears like a (space) sailor.

The Lieutenant (he/they) Image ID : The Lieutenant is a humanoid alien, with reddish beige skin, short cold dark pink hair and cold purple eyes. He has small scales on his cheeks and long ears, and is smiling broadly to show his shark-like teeth while looking away from the camera. End image ID. - the mercenary. - somewhere between a human and a lizard alien. - very random loyalty, his only motivation is money and he’ll change sides on a whim. - excellent pilot, races regularly. - extremely arrogant.

Raki (any pronouns) Image ID : Raki is a human with very pale skin, short dirty blond hair and cold grey eyes. The right side of their face is covered in burn scars. She has a hearing aid in her left ear, and is looking pretty angry, frowning at the camera. End image ID. - the loose cannon. - who the fuck are they ? - cyborg, ~ 50 % of their body is artificial. - she has a tendency to appear where she’s the least expected. - tired™. - he’s looking of the earth too.

Slide 7 : What else ? ●LGBTQ+ characters, queerplatonic relationships. ● found family ! ● space magic ! Stories and words have power, semi sentient spaceships, space ghosts and weird spacey timey stuff, singularities as power source, playing very fast and very loose with physics, mentions of space dragons. ● billionaires and capitalism = bad. ● struggling with identity, wether it be lost by accident, shed voluntarily or imposed by circumstances. ● the futiliy of fleeing from the ghosts of one’s past, learning how to face them. ● also i plan to illustrate the whole novel so… yeah.

End powerpoint ID.

[nagipops]

hi! i just saw your shikamaru x smart reader piece and it's so clever and sweet and cute!! can I request kakashi or shikamaru trying (poorly) to cook for a gn!reader?

IS IT COOKED?

FEATURING: shikamaru nara!

SUMMARY: in which you and your lazy, culinary-challenged boyfriend attempt to cook up an edible meal.

WARNINGS: food, profanity

A/N: thank you so much, ari :D lowkey feel like kakashi would be a god in the kitchen, so have shikamaru <3

“What a drag...” Shikamaru sighed, draping over your shoulders as you dragged his limp body into the kitchen.

“C’mon, Shika, I’m feeling lazy today.” You turned so that your chest was facing him instead of your back, so his arms slipped around your waist instead. “Plus, I wanna taste your cooking! I’m sure you’ll be great at it.”

He whined with his face buried in your chest. “Finee... but only ‘cause I like you so much.”

You giggled, ruffling his dark hair and wrapping your arms around him. “Like me? What are we, grade schoolers?”

“Like like you.” He pulled himself upright and planted a hand on your head as he entered the kitchen, pulling you in with him. “Okay boss, show me how it’s done.”

Grabbing ingredients out of the fridge and placing them on the countertop, you folded your arms in front of your chest. “Nope. You’re doing this on your own, Shika.”

His jaw crashed to the floor. “On my own?”

You nodded in satisfaction. “Yup. I told you, I’m feeling lazy today. C’mon, show me what you got.”

Shikamaru’s jaw was still on the ground as he gaped incredulously at you for a whole minute before he picked it up off the floor and stared dumbfounded at the heap of veggies and meats in front of him. “What am I… wha…”

Snickering at the fact that you finally caught your smart aleck boyfriend at a loss, you hopped up onto the opposite countertop, swinging your legs back and forth in amusement.

Your boyfriend gave you an exasperated look, slumping his shoulders. “(Y/N)…”

You flashed him a cheeky grin. “I believe in you! Whatever you make, I’m sure it’ll be delicious. I’ll help you out if you reaaaally need it.”

He trudged over and draped his arms around your shoulders, sighing heavily. “Fine… that cute face of yours is gonna be the death of me.”

A blush creeping up your neck, you smiled and hugged him back. “Mhm. Flattery’s not gonna get you out of this one, though.”

“Damn it.”

The crackle of noodles hitting the pan accompanied by the greasy aroma of cooking oil wafted through the kitchen as Shikamaru fumbled with a stir fry spatula while simultaneously attempting to halve an onion.

“Shit.” The wooden paddle clattered to the ground with a deafening crack amidst the cacophony within the kitchen. Meat was sizzling in the pan next to the noodles, the sink was running over the colander of broccoli, countless bowls, measuring cups, and ingredients were strewn about the countertops. You were running out of room to sit.

Biting back a grimace, you piped up quietly. “Shika, I think you got a little ahead of yourself…”

“I am doing perfectly fine, (Y/N).” He huffed, beads of sweat forming above his furrowed brows as he swiftly stirred the yakisoba noodles back and forth in the scalding hot pan. An earsplitting pop followed by a tall fume of smoke sounded from the pan of meat. Eyes panicked, he hollered, “Uh… your help would be greatly appreciated, though!”

Sliding off your tiny sliver of countertop in the blink of an eye, you rushed to your boyfriend’s side and clamped a lid over the pan before flipping off the burner, heaving a relieved sigh. “My god, Shika, you almost burnt our house down!”

He chuckled sheepishly, stirring the noodles more hesitantly. “Ah… sorry ‘bout that. Looks like I need your help, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, lightly flicking his temple. “Even if you burn the whole house down, you aren’t getting my help. That was a one-time save.”

The end of his mouth quirked up in a smirk. “Is it, now? Should I do it again?”

“Try me, witty boy.”

Shikamaru eyed you with a challenging stare, raising an eyebrow. “Whatever you say, boss.” He reached over to remove the lid from the previously flaming pan as you stood rooted to your spot. Clouds of smoke and the acrid fumes of burnt meat instantaneously corrupted your senses as your boyfriend grabbed a pair of tongs and flipped the bright pink slab of meat over so the impossibly charred side was upright.

The two of you stared at the pitch black block of… what could maybe— possibly— pass as meat.

“Well, it’s definitely… cooked?”

“Ugh… Choji would be utterly disappointed in me, huh?”

“Incredibly disappointed. Keep going, though. This is… still edible. I hope?”

Shikamaru heaved an exhausted sigh. “C’mon, babe, isn’t this valid proof that I’m not built for this cooking thing?”

“Careful, those noodles are going to burn too.” You guided his hands back to the non-burning pan, allowing him to stir them back and forth once again. “Timing is everything. You started the noodles too early, and now the veggies aren’t going to be chopped up in time.”

“Constructive criticism, please. Constructive.” He stirred the noodles with a bit more diligence and effort this time as they turned golden brown.

You giggled, carefully grabbing the knife and chopping the abandoned onion in half. “Look, turn off the heat. I’ll watch the noodles for you, you have to cut the vegetables. Sound good?”

Shikamaru whistled in relief as he flipped off the stove. “Music to my ears, boss.” He slyly snaked his arms around your waist as you organized the countertop for him. “Man, this is exhausting,” he whined into your ear. “How the hell do you do this three times a day?”

You smirked in satisfaction, reaching an arm behind your head to ruffle his hair. “I ask myself the very same question. I think we should cut it down to two, no?”

“Noooo… your cooking’s too damn tasty…” he pressed a soft kiss to your neck as you felt his body get limper and limper.

You clicked your tongue, slapping the side of his head. “Hey, no sleeping on the job. Get to work.”

Digging his chin into your shoulder as he unraveled his arms from your body, he sighed, “Aye aye, captain.”

After an abundance of eye watering slices, near finger amputations, and arguments over if “julienne” is a name or a knife technique, Shikamaru was finally completed with his masterpiece of a dish.

A makeshift blindfold fashioned out of a random scarf was fastened around your eyes as you awaited his creation at the dinner table as your boyfriend rustled around the kitchen.

A deafening crash sounded from a few feet away, and your heart leapt out of your chest. “Umm… Shika?”

“I’m fine!” He shouted, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “Uh, just some— shit— just some technical difficulties!”

Stifling a laugh, you eased into your seat once more. “Okay, I’m waiting!”

After a few more minutes of clattering and curses, you heard the tune of your favorite classical song whistled by none other than Shikamaru. “Welcome to the Narastaurant, (Y/N). For today, I present you with…” His fingers hastily fumbled with the knot at the back of your head. “Wait, shit…”

You heaved an amused sigh as a grin formed on your lips. “You need help there?”

“No, I— I got it…” A sharp tug pulled your head backwards as the scarf unraveled into his hands.

“Shika!”

“Shoot, sorry ‘bout that.” He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your head. “Anyways…”

Your eyes were drawn to the colorful plate in front of you. Meticulously arranged into a rainbow of nearly charred veggies perched atop a heaping pile of noodles and half-pink-half-black slices of meat was a steaming plate of yakisoba. A gasp rose in your throat. “Shika! This is incredible!” You whipped around to face him as he stood proudly over you. “How did you plate this so well?”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Growing up with that flower pig Ino taught me a few things about color theory and spacing and whatnot.” He rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. “As for taste…”

You raised your eyebrows, turning back to the plate in front of you. “Ah, yes, the taste…” Clasping your hands together, you gave a quick thank you for the meal before snapping your chopsticks in half and digging into the colorful dish. You raised a well-balanced bite of meat, veggies, and noodles to your lips and were instantly overwhelmed by the pungent, bitter taste of burnt oil. Pursing your lips as your lungs begged for oxygen, you forced yourself to get it down your throat. “Ahem, ahh, this is… this is something!”

Not one to get offended over his mistakes, Shikamaru only chuckled from behind you. “No kidding. Let me have a try.” Whipping out his own pair of chopsticks, he grabbed a bundle of noodles and two slices of charred meat before raising it to his lips, nearly coughing it back up as soon as he did so. “Oh— oh, god, oh god that’s bad.” Both of your hacking coughs rang throughout the dining room. “I feel like I just ate Satan’s ashes.” He whispered in between strained coughs, tears forming in his eyes.

Laughter welled up in your throat in between coughs as your eyes began to water as well. “I mean—” Cough. “I mean, Satan might like this?”

“Gee— thanks, babe. I’m sure he’d love it if we— we showed up to his annual potluck in hell with burnt pieces of who-knows-what.” Shikamaru was laughing too, gripping the edges of the table as he attempted to regain his composure.

The two of you laughed and coughed and laughed at his failed debut as a chef, teasing and poking each other at the dinner table.

Let’s just say you definitely didn’t eat Satan’s ashes for dinner that day.

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

[pocketfulofrogers]

To Outlive the Devil

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: A good save and a case practically solved leads to intelligence almost losing one of their own. Can you get out before it’s too late?

Notes: Canon violence, nothing worse than a typically dark episode. This is a past and present cut together story and it’s just shy of 4k. 

Now

Your bleary eyes open up to a cold and damp bedroom. An abandoned… apartment? The peeling wallpaper had given way to yellow stained drywall. From the small window on your left, it appeared as if you were several stories in the air, but there were no distinguishable landmarks that told you if you were even still in Chicago.

As you begin to come to your senses more, you feel the thick rope tied around your wrists and ankles. The rough material burns against you skin and you notice you already have sores.

How long have I been here?

Your memory is fuzzy and your head throbbed violently. It isn’t until you shift uncomfortably that you realize it’s a heavy metal chair you’re tied to.

Slowly your body begins to pick up on the danger your muddled brain had managed to identify and your pulse begins to quicken. As much as you try, your heartbeat continues to pound in your head as you try to twist your arms free.

The pain that responds is only a small price to pay for even the chance of freedom. Desperately, you continue to twist and pull until one of the knots manages to loosen up enough for you to squeeze your hand out. It’s just a short sprint to the front door in front of you.

You will your frozen fingers to work faster as you pinch and tear at each knot and then internally scream at your stiff muscles to carry you forward just a little bit more.

When your hand reaches the doorknob and it isn’t locked, relief floods your system. But when you’re able to wrench the door open, the person behind the door barely registers in your mind before everything goes black once again.

Then

Jay leans against his fist on his desk and tries to keep his frustration at bay. They’d been at this for two days straight and had been on the case for the last three months. “That’s two bodies in as many weeks. Is no one else starting to think…”

“That maybe hunting Chicago’s very own Criminal Minds level serial killer couple is out of our depth?” You interrupt, tilting your head towards him. “Doubt it.”

In fact, over the last two weeks, it’s the only thing you could think about. A younger woman named Madison roped, at least you were hoping she wasn’t a willing participant, into a horrific and violent life by a man you had yet to learn the identity of. You’d spent many nights pacing your bedroom, ranting and theorizing to Jay when all he wanted was just a bit of sleep.

The further you dove into it, however, the less hopeful you became for a quick arrest.

Voight had about ripped your head off when you suggested passing the case to the FBI and got to hear the ‘this is our city’ speech once again. But the truth was you were running out of ideas, running out of leads to chase down the rabbit hole, and running out of time.

“I hate to say it, but Voight’s right.” Antonio almost looks pained, but he continues on before you can question him. “The first time these two surfaced five years ago, CPD went full force. They shut it all down, had every uniform pulling overtime, and tried to smoke them out. Instead, it scared them into hiding.”

“Five girls in three months, Dawson, they’re escalating.” You take a breath before looking him in the eyes. “I can’t keep notifying parents.” There’s a certain pang in your voice only those who have had to watch a parent’s life crumble around them can hear. Jay reaches out to squeeze your forearm for just a bit of comfort and you run your fingers over his.

It’s enough.

“Then we end this.” Voight’s eyeing you, sympathetic to where you’re coming from, but not willing to give up yet. “Let’s find these monsters and make them pay.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you nod and turn to Adam. “Ok, let’s go over everything together, see if we can find something we missed.”

“Since it’s all we have, let’s revisit the address on Madison’s unemployment file.” Jay suggests.

Adam looks confused. “The house was condemned last year, torn down in the spring.”

“I know, but what about the name on the house, did anyone look into it?”

“Figured it was a stolen identity.” Kevin pipes up. “Clara Knight, died in 2012 of a heart attack at 66. No other properties in her name.”

“Knight?” Mouse perks up and starts shifting through his files. “I found a few erased emails from a Robert Knight, but I couldn’t find any relation or connection.”

Adam is already typing ferociously. “Got a death certificate for a Robert Knight, 68, died a few months ago. Seems like the guy barely existed.”

“Any children?”

“A daughter.” His face is grim. “Murdered in 99, she was 16.”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickle. “Pull up a picture of her.” You don’t need to see it to confirm what you already feared, but still the image of her face churns your stomach. A beautiful blonde girl with the hope of the whole world in her smile. “He’s been at this a lot longer than anyone thought.”

“Any property still in his name?” Voight asks.

Anxiety rippling through your chest, it feels like an eternity before Mouse nods. “His nephew Isaac put his house in Roseland on a tax form.”

Now

When you come to, the first thing you notice is that your restraints have been changed to zip ties and for a moment you’re concerned about your circulation. You’re worry is cut short by the cup of water on a table to your right, the plastic straw close enough for you to reach it.

The sudden realization of the searing pain in your throat and the cracked skin on your lips lets you know it’s probably been about two days. It’s the dryness of your tongue that overrides every single rational thought of concern that maybe the glass beside you isn’t safe to drink. But, fifteen minutes pass with no incident so whoever it is probably wants to keep you alive.

The thought sends ice down your back.

Alive for what?

“What do you want from me?” You scream into the empty apartment.

Then

“We need a vacation after this.” Jay declares as he leans the seat of the car back a little. “Somewhere warm with water so I can look at you in a tiny bathing suit all day.”

You roll your eyes, but he doesn’t miss the small smile you give before bringing the binoculars up again. “We’ll see what we can do about that.”

“Hey lovebirds.” Adam calls over the radio from the car down the street from yours. “Have you seen anything yet or are you too busy staring into each other’s eyes again?”

It’s Jay’s turn to roll his eyes. “Didn’t you just take your third piss break?”

“Hydration is very important.” He defends.

“I told him to wear the diapers.” Alvin adds. Adam tries to defend himself, but you can barely hear him over Kevin’s laughter next to him.

Just then, out of the corner of your eye, you see the movement of a curtain, the flash of blonde hair, and the air shifts. Jay immediately catches the tense set of your shoulders and starts asking questions.

“They’ve got a girl up there.” You tell him through gritted teeth.

“Are you sure? I didn’t see anything.”

You nod and get out of the car despite the hushed protests from Jay as he follows you. To do what? You weren’t sure yet but you had felt so powerless these last few months that maybe you weren’t being the most rational right now.

The curtain moves again and, rather than getting caught, you quickly spin around and push Jay against the car before crashing your lips to his. Other than a noise of shock sounding from the back of his throat, he doesn’t miss a beat.

“North corner window.” You mumble against his lips and slide your hands up his chest, tilting your head to the side to give him a better angle.

When he pulls away, he brings his phone up and looks you in the eye. “We’ve got confirmation on the nephew Isaac, but he’s got another girl up there. If we bust in, he might get spooked and hurt her.”

It’s quiet longer than either of you would like.

“What should we do, boss?” Adam asks for you.

“Do you think you can get in quietly?” Voight asks.

Jay waits for your nod. “We’re on it. Going silent.”

Picking the lock was nothing. Sneaking around a house you know nothing about except for a quick glance at a blueprint from 2005 was the difficult part. Jay splits the two of you up, sending you upstairs while he clears the lower level. Circumstance didn’t allow you the option to argue with him that splitting up in a situation like this is the worst thing to do.

He was your partner and it was your job to always have his back, as difficult as he makes it, but he’s rounded a corner into the living room before you get the chance to cuff him to you.

Your breath catches in your throat when a step on the stairs creak, but you keep moving until you find a girl in the second room you clear. She’s blind folded with on leg tied to the bed. She tenses when you approach, but relaxes once you’ve gotten close enough to whisper who you are.

“Tracey.” She says he name with a whimper and your heart breaks as you cut the rope and take off her blindfold.

When she sees you’re really who you say you are, she throws herself into your arms and begins to cry. There’s nothing more you want to do than to sit here and comfort her, but your ears picks up on a man’s voice you don’t recognize.

“Ok, Tracey, I know you’re so scared, and I can’t imagine what you’ve been through, but I need you to be brave a little longer.” You pull back and look her in the eyes. “My partner and I came in here alone. I need you to tell me where the man and woman who took you are.”

She nods. “I don’t know where she went, she left a while ago. He’s here, downstairs I think, in his office.”

There’s a crash downstairs, the sound of broken glass and your blood runs cold. Immediately, you look for any other way out, but there’s nothing. No balcony, no window, nothing. Voight’s on the radio already, but you silence him.

“Stay directly behind me.” There’s a kind of urgency in your voice that puts her even more on edge.

Creeping down the stairs, you can hear Jay struggling in the kitchen, but it sounds like he’s holding his own.

“Bringing the girl out.” You whisper into your radio and glance back at Tracey. “As soon as we get down, I want you to run to the door. Do not stop. When you get across the street there are people who will help you.” She nods but she looks terrified. “I swear I won’t let him get anywhere near you.”

It’s the door opening that alerts Isaac that something else is going on. You round the corner with your gun drawn and the scene before you makes your knees weak.

Jay is bruised and cut up, struggling against the man behind him, the arm around his neck, the gun pointed at his head.

“She said you were cops, but I told her she was paranoid.” Isaac snarls.

“Madison? Is she here?” You ask, your voice as level as your gun trained on his head. Voight is yelling over the radio, but you tune him out. “I’d love to meet her.”

He snickers and smiles wickedly. “Even if she could be caught, neither of you will be alive long enough to see it.”

He only manages a twitch before you pull the trigger and land a shot right between his eyes.

Jay falls forward, breathing heavy and you rush towards him. “Jay’s hurt!” You call out when the door is broken down. Adam kicks the gun away from the obviously dead suspect and you let them handle the scene.

“Where does it hurt? Did you get hit? I told you it was stupid to split us up! How’s your breathing?” Your hands are frantically searching every inch of his body. He has to grab your hand and grip it tight in his to stop the assault of questions rapid firing from your lips.

He sits up with a groan and kisses your knuckles when he sees the panic on your face. “I’m okay. Because of you it’s just a few cuts and bruises.” He manages a smile and you almost cry right there.

Voight places a hand on your shoulder. “Tracey is on her way to Med. Medics said she’s going to be okay. We’ve got another bus on the way for you. Nice work you two.”

Now

The creak from the front door opening pulls you from a daze and you wince at the sunlight flooding the room. A blonde woman stands before you with a duffle in her left hand and a gun in her right.

She tilts her head to the side. “You’re still alive. What a shame.”

You struggle to focus your eyes from the concussion you’re assuming she must’ve given you. “Maddison.” You croak out. “What are you doing?”

She drops the duffle next to you and grips your hair to pull your head back, pushing the barrel of the gun into your temple.

“I’m going to make you suffer.” She hisses and roughly lets you go. “I tried to warn him that you were watching us, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Isaac?”

“Don’t say his name!” She screams and the sound cracks through your skull. “He told me to get some supplies, but when I cam back, I watched from the back window as you murdered him.”

You shake your head and try to reason with her. “Maddison, he was hurting people. He was going to kill my partner.”

“Partner.” She repeats sarcastically. “You mean Jay Halstead, your boyfriend of 3 years?” Maddison moves in front of you to revel in the fear that has filled your eyes and smiles sinisterly. “Yeah, I know who he is.”

You start quickly, the panic in your voice betraying the training you were struggling to hold onto. “If you want to kill me fine, do it. But don’t hurt him, Maddison. Please, he’s done nothing.”

She tsks as she opens the duffle and begins to pull out long metal pieces until finally, a long-barreled shot gun. “Why would I kill you when the alternative is so much better?”

You begin to struggle against the restraints as your mind starts to put together scenario after scenario of awful images. Maddison pays no mind to you begging and pleading to see reason. Instead, she pauses from building some contraption to walk over to you and jam a needle in your neck.

When you come too again, she’s sat casually in front of you. “I thought hitting you in the head again might actually kill you, and that’s not what I’m going for, so… you’re welcome.”

You glance around again and notice the barrel of the shotgun behind you just to the left of your shoulder. “Yeah, thanks.” You deadpan looking back at her. “What’s with the ‘Saw’ set up?”

She raises a brow. “Hold onto that strength while you can.” She points out the wires and hooks running along the floor and ceiling to trace it back to the door in front of you. “I used to be a STEM major. Did you know that?” She doesn’t stop long enough for you to respond. “Turns out I still remember a few things.”

You stare past her towards the door and then look quickly back to the gun, beginning to piece together her plan.

“Yes.” She coos. “It’s exactly what you’re thinking. The first person that opens that door, if he happens to be the right height, will get a life ending shot to the face. And I’d like to ask you what the chances are that anyone other than your boyfriend will be the first through the door.”

None.

For the first time you feel utterly defeated, hopeless. Madison watches closely, soaking in every moment of your anguish.

“Now you’ll know what it feels like.”

Then

You phone buzzes for the fourth time in the last hour. “Yes?”

“He’s actually insufferable, where are you?” Will speaks quickly, his tone seeping in irritation.

You laugh. “April already sent me out to get him food because he was whining so much. I am in route with a burger and some other stuff from his favorite place. Should be there in 15.”

“Thank god.” He says quietly. “Would you give it a rest? She’s 15 out with enough food to hopefully put you in a coma so I don’t have to.” You laugh as Will continues to yell at his brother.

“I almost died! Where’s your compassion?” You hear Jay yell back and only laugh harder

“You have ONE bruised rib and a concussion. I’ve seen high school football players handle worse with less complaining!”

“If it’s not so bad, why won’t you let me leave?!”

“I’m stepping up the pace, be there soon.” You laugh and hang up.

The Chicago night was chilly, but something else causes the hairs on the back of your neck begin to prickle. You don’t stop walking, don’t even pause a single step. Instead, you glance in a shop window and catch the reflection of a woman, a flash of blonde, not too far behind you.

Casually, you switch the bag of food to your other hand, but before you’re able to grab your gun, there’s a pinch in your neck and everything goes black.

Now

Jay had forced his way back to work sooner than anyone recommended. You’d been missing for 5 days. Disappeared with no trace other than your cell phone and a bag of cold diner food spilt on the sidewalk. If it were up to him, he would’ve been at his desk the moment 30 minutes hit and you weren’t there.

Alvin called two hours later telling him what they found and Adam and Antonio had to physically restrain him, Will almost sedated him. Voight promised him that they’d find you, and Jay knew they’d do everything they could, but he needed to be a part of the search.

“Did she have any enemies?” Alvin asks and he doesn’t flinch when Jay begins to laugh sarcastically.

“Any enemies? Do you hear yourself? She had tons. We all do. But let’s stop pretending like her being taken the day we closed that case isn’t connected.”

Alvin tries to sympathize with him. “We have to ask. You know the drill.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation. “Are you seriously going to treat this like any other missing person? It’s Y/N, Al! Y/N!”

“We know.” Voight says from his office door. “I made a few calls, Jay, we know where she is.” For a fraction of a second, Jay is frozen, but the thought of what you could be going through right now moves him. He’s grabbed his jacket and is in the car before anyone else has moved.

“I thought only the CIA had access to things like that.” Adam whispers lowly in the car into Kevin’s ear.

He shrugs. “Do think it’s out of the question that he’d break several constitutional laws to save any one of us?”

Adam sits back in his seat with pursed lips, nodding.

You struggle against the restraints long after Madison leaves you with only a gag in your mouth. The multiple cars pulling up and all the people shouting told you that you were running out of time. As of this very moment, you were locked into your fate of watching the man you loved die.

This was not an option.

The hard plastic digs into your ankles and wrists, your movements quickening with each door you hear them break down. You try to scream, to warn whoever was on this floor that there was a danger they couldn’t possibly see, but your muffled cries wouldn’t carry.

Tears soak the bandana shoved in in your mouth and you try to scream again.

No! Stop! It isn’t safe!

You hear Voight’s voice a few doors down and begin to try and rock the chair back and forth. It was considered heavy for a good day, and today was not that. Having not eaten or really moved in so long had left you weak and foggy. The adrenaline coursing through you veins only aiding a little in your efforts.

The sound of the front door breaking down sends a jolt of energy through you and you send yourself flying in front of the gun just as the bedroom door opens.

Jay raises his weapon at the sound before his brain can register what has happened. His wide eyes find yours just before you’ve hit the ground.

“Y/N!” He screams and rushes towards you. Frantic, shaky hands move quickly to remove the bandana and zip ties before applying pressure to your shoulder. “I need a medic!” He calls franticly over his shoulder, but when he turns back to you, he has to shut down the thought that you might not make it that long.

“You found me.” You try to say, but instead sputter blood onto your cheek.

“Oh, God.” He gasps. “You’re okay, you’re going to be fine.” But the more he says, the less you hear him.

“I love you.” You try to reach out to his face and graze his cheek, but your fingers won’t cooperate and only leave smudges of blood across his skin.

When your breathing starts to quicken and become more raged, he knows time is running out. So, in defiance of the orders and suggestions coming in through his ear piece, he lifts you up to cradle you to him and runs.

**

An annoying, incessant beeping is the only thing you can hear, but when you move to reach for it, a shooting pain stops you cold. You groan softly and pry your eyes open only to see both Will and Antonio hovering too close to your face.

Will starts to wave a flashlight in your eyes and you push him away. “When was the last time you guys brushed your teeth?”

Antonio chuckles softly and places his hand atop your head, his thumb brushing softly. “We got her.” He says quietly. “She couldn’t help herself. She stayed close to the scene to see the fallout and Kim caught her.”

Will nods his head towards Jay who was sleeping soundly in what you had to imagine was a very uncomfortable position. “We’ve been keeping an eye on him as well as you. Do you want me to wake him?”

You look back over at him and smile before turning back. “Better not. These are the last few moments of peace I’ll get for the next year at least. You would think someone would be a little more grateful towards you for saving their life, but I can already hear how mad he’s going to be.” Only a small part of you is joking.

“Well, I’ll get shot next time and we’ll see how you feel.” Jay’s sleep riddled voice carries from the corner, but he hasn’t opened his eyes yet. “I’ll give you an hour.” He adds before settling back in.

Now that’s the love of my life.

[felassan]

DA4 Lead Producer Scylla Costa’s BIG Festival talk, “Challenges of Dragon Age production during the pandemic”, can currently be rewatched on YouTube here starting roughly at timestamp 8:57:02 after a lil presenter blurb/intro. It’s 1 hour long. When it was streamed live, there was an English translation ‘voiceover’. There isn’t in this vid, however I want to post the link for Portuguese speakers, and also it’s neat for everyone to be able to see all the slides he presented with for themselves in context.

I don’t know if an English-language version will get put up so I’m sharing the notes I took during the talk below, in case anyone’s interested and because I might as well since I wrote them. The rest of this post is under a cut due to length.

Edit: Found a place to re-watch the English version of the talk

(Quick note: I didn’t note down everything, mostly things that caught my interest, so this isn’t exhaustive, and when I was watching I was real tired, so pls bear that in mind and don’t take these notes as bullet-proof 100% accurate gospel or direct quotes. If you watched it and think I’ve written down something wrong/misunderstood, let me know and I’ll fix. Also if you’re a Portuguese speaker and I’ve gotten something incorrect or missed something important etc, again just let me know.) **

** Edit: I’ve now gone through my notes while watching the talk again. I’ve filled in some of the gaps (although they still don’t cover everything said) and so forth, and now I’m no longer worried about there being possible errors in this post.

-----

For some context, this slide contained the breakdown of the talk’s structure. Bear in mind there are other slides present in the talk than the ones I’ve posted here, I didn’t include caps of all of them, just ones which were of note to me.

In the talk, chief Producer Scylla goes over challenges of DA4 production during the pandemic. He discusses the adaptations - necessary skills and learning from remote work - and he ponders on the future of teamwork.

After the launch of ME3 he became a producer, all his MMO and other experience helped a lot. He was on DAI for 3 years and MEA for 9 months, then Anthem. Today, on DA4, Scylla and another Lead Producer were the heads of the whole project, and there is his boss is the Executive Producer Christian Dailey. 

^ the usual AAA game development cycle (brief introduction)

AAA games are games that are launched for several platforms simultaneously. 

In BioWare’s case, the pre-production phase of the game development cycle can have from 5 - 30 people, and up to almost 60 people when they’re just about to go through the gate to production. 

In the pre-production phase, they go through the game’s concepts and prototypes and start developing systems. They seek the game’s concept and focus, and its key features. They do lots of market research. In the case of BioWare, all their games are strong in narrative, so they have lots of tools related to game narratives and supporting the development of a narrative (cinematic design, dialogue system etc) that get focused on in this phase. Other parts of the team such as writers and cinematic design need these systems to do their own roles. 

In BioWare’s case, the pre-production phase through to launch can take 4 - 6 years, but it does depend on the size of the team during development.

With regards to Dragon Age 4, they were coming close to the time when they would shift from pre-production to the production stage when the pandemic hit.

During the production phase is when the development of content and features takes place, with the systems mostly already existing from the pre-production phase. A few new systems may be developed in this phase. In the production phase is when things start escalating, and the team really starts growing, to like 2- or 3-fold the prior pre-production phase size. 

(DA4 is currently in the production phase.)

In the alpha phase, features have to be fully implemented and systems all have to be running / working. All the game features should already be in the game by now. They test from pre-production onwards, but this phase is when they run heavy technical tests with lots of players trying to play at the same time. In the beta phase, the idea is that you should now have full content and that now you’re balancing it and running more and lots of different tests with players before launch. There are final tweaks and then the final launch, when in the weeks prior to launch, all the different business units and areas e.g. marketing team, technology team, publishing team, get together once a day and all of the game’s issues are reported and brought to the table to be prioritized. Then they decide the next steps re: these issues (this is known as ‘the war room’).

After the launch there are usually patches like day zero patches and other patches, this being standard industry practise. The last stage is the new content stage where there are DLCs and a game with more content.

On March 12th 2020, the team gathered to review the DA4 story in the new office. Everyone was very excited. (They had spent over 10 years in their last building and had noticed that with the team growing they needed more space. In August 2019 they found the new studio in the city center.)

Anyway that evening, they got an email from the CEO which contained instructions and said that due to the pandemic, they should from now all start working remotely. They had known that this happening was a possibility so they had been planning on how to have all the devs working from home, but initially less than 50% of the devs were able to work from home successfully/efficiently due to various issues e.g. you need a VPN to be able to log in remotely to do your job normally, varying home office setups. The day after this, the office was basically deserted, except for Scylla, the IT infrastructure people and one or two odd devs.

Scylla was part of the team that was working on allowing the devs to work from home. They first started looking at the short-term changes they needed to make to allow this.

“First, take care of our developers”. 

When the pandemic first hit, their and Scylla’s [as Lead Producer] first priority was to look after the devs. Many of them are parents (schools and day-cares were shut, children were studying from home), others have relatives living with them, others have other personal circumstances which of course need to be taken into account when it comes to assessing what needs to be taken into consideration for this new scenario. So, they looked at each dev on a case-by-case basis in order to evaluate, speaking to each one and asking them what they could do to support them.

One of the first changes/adaptations they could implement was flexible working hours and flexibility around deadlines. Generally speaking the devs got a lot of support, EA was really good and really supported the devs especially in the first months of the pandemic (and they are still supporting them). Initially not all devs had suitable office spaces at home, some were working from the living room from laptops or at the kitchen table. The whole covid situation basically just happened over night and nobody was really ready to deal with that change. So their first step was to enable their devs to work remotely. As a producer, Scylla’s main task is to communicate with the team such as via a number of daily meetings. He doesn’t depend so much on powerful hardware.

“Enable developers to work remotely”.

This slide shows some of a BioWare audio team. Different teams have varying and specific needs in order to do their jobs and therefore in order to do them remotely. For example, the audio team need good-quality speakers and amplifiers, while the lighting and art teams need other specific equipment such as tablets and large screens. So there was a lot of work they had to do to go through each dev to understand their individual needs and what needed to be done for them. ‘Could they download the builds? Did they have the right performance [tech-wise]? Could they submit their changelists, their codes to the server?’

Some devs needed a more powerful internet connection as it would take 6-8 hours to download a build (some devs live rurally). Some needed a lot of cable, as they were working far away from their routers (sometimes up to 50m). As time went by things got better and better. 

The chair devs work from is also important; a kitchen able chair etc is not suitable to sit in for long-term desk work, possibly leading to health issues like back ache and blood circulation problems in the legs.

Every 3 months they had money given to help devs buy new mice, keyboards, monitors - anything they needed really in order for their office setting at home to be improved. For a while, because lots of people [generally, in society] were needing and buying them, it was quite hard to buy things like webcams and microphones.

On mid- and long-term changes:

In terms of DA, we have to look at this from 2 perspectives, the change in the personal and the professional environments. 

As a consequence of working from home, people tend to be less active during the day (even in an office, you go between meeting rooms, up and down stairs etc). Physical activity supports life quality and therefore work quality. Scylla noticed that he began to feel listless and such, and found that he needed to change his routine that he had initially developed when he started working from home, for example; having a normal start time (as in, have a semblance of structure in your day as if you were still working in the office site), get dressed at the normal time, not having meetings over lunch etc. This wasn’t just him, lots of other devs encountered this and had this experience too. Devs which adapted faster had better productivity and became more productive faster.

Scylla bought a stand-up desk which he can raise up and down, and at meetings he would be delivering a talk while standing or even while walking on a treadmill. Other devs also got stand-up desks. He tracked his body’s data on a Fitbit. These sorts of things helped improve physical and mental wellbeing. Other devs did similar things, like starting going out for jogs or began practising yoga. Essentially, everyone needed to make changes to their daily routine in comparison to what they had been doing prior to the pandemic. 

The pandemic has been a thing for over a year now. In their location, every couple of weeks a new restriction is put into place or a rule is changed, and every two weeks there’s a new thing that you can and can’t do. Scylla also started moving around his property. He worked on his desk, fixed it up and painted - taking up a new hobby. Other devs picked up new hobbies too. These are good ways to be active and also to be somewhere else, i.e. to break up the working day and not be spending it all in one home office-type location. Scylla found that when he made these sorts of changes to his routine to improve his lifestyle, the data output by his Fitbit as indicators of his health/wellbeing etc improved, e.g. number of steps taken in a day, heartbeats per minute while at rest. As stated many of the other devs went through a similar process.

On the professional side of things:

They had to improve remote delivery of builds. Accessing things from home as a dev requires a VPN. They need to download a build every day and then upload it to the server after making their changes to the game. They had to work with infrastructure and research other tech, such as streaming tech to allow remote console access, in order to better facilitate this process. For remote access, they also had to work on adapting communications channels.

“Adapting channels of communication.”

In this slide, the team are working on the storyboards. Before you can implement motion capture & performance capture, you have to ‘run the storyboards’ like this. These are small illustrating drawings which reflect the drafts and are meant to quickly reflect the intention of the scenes that are to be built. Before the pandemic, the team would go to meeting rooms like this, sit down, talk and interact in person. After the pandemic, the question became ‘How do you do this over Zoom?’ You can, but it’s not quite the same; it’s harder to see peoples’ expressions, some people are embarrassed speaking over Zoom etc. Therefore they had to adapt their communications systems, and unlearn the ways in which they developed before in order to relearn and learn new ways of communicating.

Slack was a tool that they adopted on this front. Communications channels can be confusing on Slack, so there was a need to develop structure. For example, how quickly should someone reply (as a recommended convention for the purposes of work)? They had to define the process/procedures for the channels so it was clear for the team as a whole how it would all flow (this is important especially if you have a team with say 30 people or as a whole hundreds of people). Before the pandemic, they had stand-up meetings where they’d go around in a circle every morning and talk about their activities - what they’re going to be working on, any roadblocks they had encountered etc. The question arose ‘How do you replace these?’ They ended up doing Slack messages at a certain time of day and updating their statuses with some details on what they’re working on and color-coding (green - fine, yellow - need help, red - busy/blocked out).

Another issue that they faced was unforeseen - the number of meetings that devs were having really shot through the roof. When there wasn’t a good structure of communications channels, any conversation would become a meeting. Everybody began scheduling meetings left and right, and at the end of the day they would have little time left in which to actually work on their to-do lists. Hence, they had to work with the team to really analyze and be very pragmatic. ‘Which meetings needed to happen? Which didn’t? Is a specific meeting really necessary? Which meetings should be recurring? What can be done over Slack?’ This guideline had to be given to the team to help, and it improved things a lot. The number of meetings decreased a lot and they got more effective. For example, by making sure to set an agenda for meetings beforehand, and by having meeting notes (then a dev who didn’t really need to be at a meeting could skip attending and just quickly review the notes output after instead). They also decreased the standard length of meeting times from the default Outlook blocks of 1 hour and 30 mins to 55 mins and 25 mins respectively. This 5 minute change gave devs time for things like bio breaks (also 4 hours in a row at a computer in a home office with one meeting after another just isn’t good for a person).

“Adapting p-cap and mocap”.

On content:

From a content point of view, the most difficult thing in terms of the pandemic was adapting p-cap and mocap (performance capture and motion capture). They hire actors and it’s a large studio. The pandemic meant big limits to what they could and couldn’t do. The actors had to be masked and 5 meters apart in distance (although it doesn’t look like it in some of these shots due to angles). Also there could be no other person around in the studio - only the actors. The directors instead would ‘patch’ in remotely on big screens (you can see this in the second photo in the top right). 

Before the pandemic, they felt that they wouldn’t be able to do p-cap or mocap properly remotely, as the directors would usually stand right next to actors giving guidance on their performance. The techs would also usually be near. But they adapted! The keyword is adapting, changing process. It’s harder and it’s different, but it is possible, and people start rethinking what is possible. What was said to be impossible before now is possible.

P-cap differs to mocap in that it also captures voice and facial expressions.

On the future of work after covid:

There will probably be more working from home and more flexibility for workers e.g. being able to work say 3 out of 5 days from home. It does depend on what a dev’s specific job is however. For example, the audio engineers require lots of specialist equipment and said equipment is of higher quality and quantity in the office. So, depending on role, devs might be working more often or less often from home.

Another development is that lots of devs are moving house. In lockdown etc people started reassessing what’s most important in life. Some are moving further away from the studio to get a cheaper rent or for example couples who both needed an office space to work from home from but their current place only had one area. Others are moving closer to nature for a better quality of life, and still others have other different reasons for doing so. Over 10 devs that he knows in fact have recently moved, including Scylla himself.

The pandemic changed certain skills being used by people on a daily basis. Scylla used as an example of this one of his soft skills, being able to tell from looking/interacting in-person with someone if they are stressed out. Obviously it’s less easy to tell if someone is stressed out when you’re remote, so you adapt different ways of checking in with people in the new situation. To continue carrying out his role as Lead Producer, he began checking in with his team pro-actively on the new comms channels and asking how they were doing.

Also, now that companies are more open to working remotely, there is going to be increased competition for hiring devs. They saw both sides of this coin at BioWare. They were able to hire devs from many places that they couldn’t hire from before e.g. Montreal, Vancouver, the US, as there’s less need for devs to relocate to Edmonton or Austin. This opens up opportunities to hire really intelligent and skilled people that they would not have had access to before.

Question and answer segment:

The pre-production phase has been concluded. They’re in the production phase.

They are not giving out a lot of details yet but Scylla is really excited as a big fan of the whole series. He thinks that with DA4, they will have the opportunity/possibility to launch the best story out of all DA games. He feels that the characters they’re making are amazing. He’s dying to say more but can’t. 

When you work from home you need to keep your team as productive as possible. During the pandemic, when people started working from home, they noticed that some people became more productive and some people became less productive. They were analyzing it on a case-by-case basis so as not to make assumptions. They were interested in seeing what they could do to help. At the beginning of the pandemic, they were looking at the devs as people and seeing what they needed.

Production of DA4 still needed to continue during the pandemic because they want to be able to launch the game.

This slide shows a writer. Writing is an example of a role which is more able to work from home easily.

Their productivity did go down in the first month of the pandemic. After adaptations, some people then became more productive than they were before (this was role and personal situation-dependent, examples of this being artists and coders who were able to art and code at home without being interrupted, thereby being able to produce more). Covid has affected productivity in general, but this is part of our new reality. They have adapted and adjusted some deadlines. They have enough data (Scylla LOVES data) now to understand how long it will take them/how long they’ll need to launch the game. They have always had historical data for this purpose, but they’re doing more of this sort of thing now to ensure that they are doing things at the right time.

Remote hiring opens up the door to more talent joining, so if someone has talent geography will hold them back less. Some companies though may choose not to hire people from other countries due to labor issues, cumbersome legal aspects, time zones. But even in such cases there are activities for example that can be carried out while the rest of the team is asleep such as testing or working on the build, or there are cases where those companies still will want to hire a specifically/highly talented person even in spite of the potential legal aspects and so on.

On mental health: People were affected. There is the mental, physical and social impacts of the pandemic situation on people. EA supported them during the pandemic in terms of their mental wellbeing, there are specific companies (services offered, speaking to a therapist) that they can contact if they need something or help. EA had always been good at supporting them with this sort of thing but this has improved further during the pandemic. Another change was that they could/can take a couple of days off if they needed/need to because of the pandemic e.g. to take care of children, who were obviously not at school at the time. As a producer he had to be very mindful of all of this. How much they were monitoring peoples’ wellbeing really went up during the pandemic.

A question that was asked - in terms of DA4′s storybeats, is there anything in there that they decided to change due to the pandemic as it wouldn’t be sensitive or appropriate to include anymore, for example a plague plotline or something? Scylla’s answer is that DA and ME are games in which they try to have narratives that are relatable, which include things which people will identify with, so that players understand what characters are going through etc. Nothing in DA4′s plotline/storybeats has been changed (in the frame of this question, relating to the pandemic), as it didn’t have anything in it that could be specifically or a directly connected to a pandemic-type situation or anything. Of course the DA story has Blights and the Taint, but these are different & fantastical things and existed long before the pandemic situation. So this wasn’t the case with DA4 and there was no need to change anything, but this has happened to other games where they decided to change a storyline due to a strong correlation with something in the real world.

There were then concluding/closing remarks. The message he wants to send is that a crisis will always spark opportunities. Look at a crisis and try to see how you can grow.

-----

[☕ found this post interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[favefandomimagines]

Birthday Surprises (d.s.)

Summary: you have the best birthday present for Drew.

It was perfect that Drew’s birthday fell on a month where you and all your friends were in the same place. With the pandemic and a possibility of Outer Banks not being picked up for a season 2, Drew was worried his birthday would be ruined.

But you and your mutual castmates had a plan in mind. It’s not everyday a person turns 27 so you all had a day full of surprises planned out. And you had the best one.

You and Drew had been dating for over a year now, since Outer Banks started filming in 2019. Of course you talked about getting married and starting a family but you never thought it would happen so quick. You were about a month pregnant and you hadn’t told Drew yet. You yourself had only known for about a week. It was a good thing you weren’t a big drinker anyways, so everything seemed normal with the baby.

The only people who knew were Madison and Madelyn. You hadn’t told any of the boys in fear of them telling Drew accidentally. You obviously told your boss and the crew so you wouldn’t have to do any crazy stunts. And the show would be wrapped by the time you far along enough to notice.

The day of celebration started with JD and Chase decorating Drew’s trailer. Something they made sure to document on social media. Madison and Madelyn got him a giant cake with sparkler candles and the whole cast and crew sang him happy birthday before filming.

The one thing that stumped him was why he hadn’t heard anything from you. You told him happy birthday and told him you loved him but there was no gift. You were big on gift giving, it was your love language and yet he hadn’t received one from you.

All day he wondered what he had done to make you upset. Or if you had something planned, what was it and why was it such a big secret?

You and the girls had a plan that during the party, you’d give Drew his present in front of everyone. Not only were you telling your boyfriend but your friends as well.

“He thinks I’m mad at him. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this surprise.” You complained to Madelyn as you sat on your couch before everyone else got there. “Who cares if he thinks that? He’ll change his mind when you tell him you’re gonna have his baby.” She laughed.

“I guess you’re right.” You muttered. “What are you giving him? How are you doing it?” She asked. “It’s a surprise.” You joked. “Even for me? One of the only people who actually knows?” Madelyn questioned. “Yes, even for you.” You replied as the door opened.

The boys and Madison walked through the door, chatting and continuing the big birthday celebration. Drew sat down next to you, grabbing your legs to rest them on his lap. He grabbed you the drink that Rudy handed him and offered it to you.

“Uh no, thanks babe. I’m good.” You said. “Come on, Y/N. It’s my birthday, please.” He pouted. “Maybe later.” You promised, sending him a wink. “Okay! We have presents so I suggest we do that.” Rudy announced. “You guys didn’t have to get me anything.” Drew protested.

“Don’t be ungrateful. Just say thank you.” Austin teased. One by one, each friend handed him a small gift. And he was okay with small gifts because he had everything he wanted and he didn’t need anything else.

Why would he when he had a great job, great friends and a great girlfriend?

All the gift giving seemed to have stopped and all eyes landed on you. “Oh! It’s my turn!” You said, getting up from the couch and retrieving your gift. If Drew was being honest, when he saw the card and small present in your hand, he was a bit disappointed. You loved gift giving so much and all you got him was a card?

He took it nonetheless and opened the gift first, ripping off the blue paper. “A book of dad jokes. I love it.” He lied. He didn’t love it but he pretended he did for your sake. Drew opened the card next, eyebrows furrowed in confusion when he saw what was on the front. “Uh, babe I think you grabbed the wrong card.” Drew said.

Rudy looked over his shoulder and read the words on the front. ‘Happy Birthday, daddy!’ It said in a large font. “Open it.” You said. Drew opened the card and sonogram pictures fell out onto his lap.

He seemed to be the only person to not get it until he read your writing on the inside. “What better present than giving you baby Starkey?” It said.

Drew’s eyes widened as he turned to look up at you. “Wait, are you serious?” He asked. You nodded your head with a goofy smile on your face. “You’re pregnant?” Drew questioned. “Yes, I’m pregnant.” You answered.

You were a bit nervous for how he was going to react after the news but when he stood up and nearly fell over Rudy and wrapped his arms around you, your nerves subsided.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” He whispered in your ear. You could hear the emotion in his voice, both happiness and nervousness. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re gonna have a baby.” You whispered back. 

Once the party had died down and everyone had gone home, you were laying with Drew in bed, scrolling aimlessly on your phone. 

You felt Drew slide down so he was leveled with your stomach. “Hi, baby. I know you’re not big enough to hear me or know who I am but I’m your dad. Your mom and I are so excited to meet you. We’re gonna be the best parents and give you the best life.” He spoke to your barely there bump. 

You smiled down at him as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I’m going to take you to football games and baseball games. I’ll bring you on set.” He continued. “What if it’s a girl?” You asked him. “Then she’ll be the biggest football and baseball fan.” Drew answered. 

The two of you stayed like that for a little while longer, Drew quietly speaking to your stomach. You were drifting in and out of sleep when you felt Drew pull you into him. 

He kissed the top of your head lightly, finally abel to process the fact that he was going to have a family of his own. And he couldn’t be happier.

[mosswillow]

New Year. - Mob boss!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: 18+ adult content, Dark!!!, Noncon/dubcon, manipulation, smut.

Summary: A New Years themed dark Cinderella story.

A/N: this is another quickly written one shot that I threw together today to post. I may revisit this in the future and expand the story a bit but wanted it out today for obvious reasons.

Word count: 1.7k

“You have until midnight and not one second longer.”

You dart across the street recklessly, not caring if you’re hit by a car. Time is running out. You enter a dimly lit pawn shop and sprint to the counter, slamming down a ring. A shady looking man picks the ring up and examines it, grabbing a magnifying glass and holding it up to the light. He reminds you of a lizard, long and lean. He wears a green suit and his eyes are almost completely red, probably from drug use you decide.

“Where did you get this?” He asks.

“It doesn’t matter.”

The man thrums his fingers on the counter and makes a clicking noise with his tongue. “I’ll give you three hundred.”

“I need four.”

“Three fifty.”

You pick the ring up and turn your back, walking confidently away.

“Fine.” He calls out.

You stop and turn on your heel, holding the ring out for him.

“Make it quick, I have somewhere to be.”

One year ago - New years eve

You attend the annual new year's masquerade every year. The exclusive ball is filled to the brim with wealthy, well connected individuals, most of whom are alleged criminals. You always feel nervous going but go nonetheless. Your father took you several years ago shortly before he died and now you go in his memory, hoping to maybe feel just for the evening like he’s still with you. You put on your dress, a thrifted gown that you were lucky to find, and look at yourself in the mirror.

You look beautiful. It’s rare these days that you feel good about yourself but today nobody can bring your mood down. Today you’re Cinderella, dancing the night away before returning to your ordinary life after midnight comes.

You walk downstairs to find a note left for you. Your step mother and sisters have left without you which is to be expected. You’re thankful for the place to stay and never ask for anything more. They’re not your family and only tolerate you because of your father. Once you find a way out of New York you’ll leave and never look back. You make your way to the street, calling a cab. It’s a little splurge but you don’t want to risk ruining your dress on the subway and tonight is about living luxuriously.

The cab takes you to a decadent hotel and you walk in, marveling at the sheer size of it. Despite growing up in this world, it still feels overwhelming.  Someone hands you a glass of champagne and you take a sip, savoring the taste. You make your way across the room, taking it all in when you bump into him, or more accurately he bumps into you.

“I’m so sorry miss, I didn’t see you there.”

Your eyes meet and there’s a spark, a feeling of intense attraction that you can’t ignore, and you know he feels it too. The noise and movement throughout the room fades and it’s just you and him.

“I’m Bucky,” He says, holding out his hand.

The world comes crashing down as you realize who he is, Bucky Barnes, the most notorious man in the US. He’s young, probably only a few years older than yourself but he holds himself like someone who’s lived a long and difficult life.

“It’s not a problem sir, I’m unharmed.” You smile politely.

He puts his hand up to your face, gently brushing his thumb over your cheek before tearing off your mask.

“What’s your name?” He says, taking a step towards you.

“Beth.” you say the first name that pops into your head.

“Beth…”

“Smith, Beth Smith.”

Bucky smiles “Nice to meet you… Beth Smith.”

You nod and grab your mask away before escaping his company. You keep your distance the whole night despite Bucky’s multiple attempts to corner you and by midnight you’re ready to leave. You hear the countdown as you run from the building, looking over your shoulder nervously before getting in your cab.

Present.

You check your watch as you leave the pawn shop. You have twenty minutes, twenty minutes to make it to bucky’s penthouse or it’s all over. You barely got all the money you needed. You even asked your step mother to help. She refused, unsurprisingly. You were forced to sell everything you own, even the ring your mother once wore, your last keepsake of her.

Six months ago.

You write the order on a cup and hand it to your coworker before turning back to help the next customer. You’ve worked at the coffee shop for years now. You have a college degree but jobs are scarce in your field and you need the money. You’ve sent applications out across the entire country and hope to one day get hired somewhere and move off.

“What can I get for you?” you say before realizing who’s standing in front of you.

“I don’t like being lied to.” Bucky taps your nametag.

“I…”

“I’ve been watching for a few months, making sure you’re the one.”

He grabs the menu off the counter, looking through the different options.

“I want you,” He says nonchalauntly.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Marry me.”

“I don’t know you.”

“If you come with me you’ll live a life of luxury. You won’t have to work places like this.” He sets the menu back down and smoothes his hand over it.

“And what does this marriage entail?” You ask.

“Complete obedience and devotion. You’ll do everything I say, have my children and keep my bed warm. In return you’ll have more money than you know what to do with, more luxury than you could fathom in your pretty little head and my loyalty. You will be my love and my obsession. I will never leave you and never let you go.”

You look at him like he’s crazy, which he most definitely is.

“Thank you for the offer but I’m going to pass.”

Bucky slams his fist on the counter suddenly, making you jump.

“I always get what I want.”

You take a small step back.

“Not this time.”

Bucky stares at you for several moments before taking a deep breath and ordering a drink. You serve it to him and watch him walk out of the coffee shop.

Present.

You jump on the subway and make your way towards Bucy’s penthouse, running like a madwoman trying to make it on time. You look at your watch again and have one minute. Time is running out. You run full speed towards his building, ignoring the ache in your lungs and cramp in your leg.

Three months ago.

“Bucky, stop buying me stuff, I said no already and nothing’s going to change my mind.”

You throw a box of chocolate in Bucky’s face and he scowls at you. He reaches forward, grabbing the back of your head and pulling you forward, whispering into your ear.

“I tried to show you what you could have, how much I could give you. I guess I have to try something different.”

He lets go of you.

“I won’t bring any more gifts.”

“Thank you.” you say quietly.

Present.

The seconds tick away and you finally reach his door. You bang your hand over and over while checking the time again on your watch.

12:02am

One week ago

“Bucky, I know you’re the one who set this up. I didn’t do it, I’m being framed.”

You yell at him, not caring who hears. The police showing up to your apartment with guns and pulling you into the station for hours and hours has left you without any fucks to give. You were about to leave town. You have a ticket ready to leave and start your life over somewhere new. Now you have to turn down a dream job and stay in town due to an ongoing murder investigation of someone you’ve met only once in passing.

“I can cover it up for you… for a price of course.”

You start to turn around and he grabs your arm, pulling you back.

“Here’s the deal. You bring me twenty thousand dollars before midnight new years eve. If you can bring me the money I’ll cover it up and leave you alone forever.”

You look down.

“And if I don’t get the money I go to prison?”

“No baby, you go to prison if you leave this room right now. If you bring me the money you’re free forever but if you don’t I own you. That’s the deal, take it or leave it.”

Your body slackens as you realize you don’t have any choice. Your only chance is to get twenty thousand by next week.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch, I’m a fair man. I could just kidnap you but I want you to come willingly.”

You sigh.

“I’ll bring the money as long as you promise not to interfere.”

“It’s a deal,” Bucky smiles.

He lets you go and walks over to a small couch, taking a seat.

“You have until midnight and not one second longer,” he says as you close the door to his office.

Present.

You fall to the floor and start crying. Bucky crouches in front of you and puts his finger under your chin, pulling it up so that you’re looking him in the eyes.

“You were so close.”

“Please Buck, it was two minutes.”

Bucky grabs your arm and pulls it up, dragging you into his home.

“A deal is a deal baby, I wouldn’t be where I am now without honoring deals.”

He takes a box from the coffee table and opens it up, showing you a huge diamond ring.

He fixes the ring on your hand, a perfect fit. You stare at the stone, a reminder that it’s all about Bucky. You don’t even like diamonds and you’re sure he knows that. He knows everything about you. From this point on you’re his. He takes your hand and kisses it before grabbing the back of your head and bringing you forward for a kiss. He slides his other hand down between your legs, pulling your skirt up and grabbing your pussy.

“I’ve waited so long for this.”

He pushes you down onto the couch and you take a deep breath before opening your legs, giving him access. He fucks you relentlessly, pushing you toward your own orgasm. Fireworks go off outside the window and you hear the celebrations as people welcome the new year.

“That’s my girl,” Bucky whispers as he pulls you into his embrace.

You listen to the fireworks until they fade and you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

[bonnyskies]

come back to me [three] ⇢ jjk

you’re willing to do anything to save your marriage, even if that meant you’d have to sacrifice your own happiness to do so.

pairings — husband!jungkook x malereader, ft. ceo!jaehyun (that’s right babes, he’s in here)

genre — angst, sexual themes, idol au, exes to lovers-ish au, open relationship au, marriage au, parents au

series warnings — infidelity (kinda?), swearing, bisexual!jungkook, insecure!reader, unhealthy relationship, unrequited love-ish, slow burn, use of alcohol, mentions of divorce problems, (more could be added in future chapters)

word count — 2.7k

masterlist

You were utterly exhausted.

After last night, when discovering that Jungkook left you in the middle of the night to be with her, you didn’t get much sleep after that. You just laid out on your bed, staring up at your bedroom’s ceiling with tears in your eyes.

This morning, you felt like absolute death. Bags were evident underneath your eyes and your hands that were trembling uncontrollably, resting by your sides. It took you nearly two hours to get ready compared to your usual one, due to the fact that you couldn’t stop crying.

Jungkook didn’t come home in the morning, didn’t even bother to send you a single text.

It was painful, realizing that your relationship has to come that point where you two acted like complete strangers with each other rather than a married couple. Ten years together, and you never once thought it would ever come to this.

“Hey,” you instantly jumped in your seat at the sound of a man’s deep voice, breaking you away from your troubling thoughts with your heart stammering at a fast pace. When brought back to reality, your eyes landed on none other than the CEO of Jung Enterprises and your boss—Jung Jaehyun. “Are you alright? You seem out of it.”

“Y-Yes, sir.” You answered, clearing your throat. “Just tired, that’s all.”

Jaehyun nodded hesitantly, unsure of your answer but decided not to push it any farther. “Oh, okay.” He then approached your desk, “Remember we have that meeting with our sponsors in about ten minutes. Is everything ready for the presentation?”

“Yes, sir.” You replied again, standing up from your chair and handing him the file that you two put together for today’s conference. “Would you like to go prepare for the presentation?”

Jaehyun nodded, “That’d be good.” He then walked over to your office’s door and opened it, allowing you to step out first, which you did. But when you passed him, you were stopped when Jaehyun suddenly grasped your wrist. “And {Name}, I’d like to also apologize for what happened yesterday.” The reminder made your heart stutter inside your chest. “It was highly inappropriate for me to do that, and I’m sorry if I anyway made you feel uncomfortable—”

“Sir,” you interrupted, “You didn’t make me uncomfortable. It was just shocking that’s all.”

And once again, Jaehyun only nodded, shoving his hands into his suit’s pockets. “Well, I’m still sorry.”

“It’s alright sir, really.” You smiled reassuringly, reaching up and gently placing your hand onto his bicep, feeling your cheeks heat up at the feeling of the strong muscle. You two then shared a small smile with each other before heading towards the conference room.

While walking alongside him, you couldn’t help but think about what yesterday’s events. The memories resurfacing in your mind.

.

When entering your workplace’s building, you couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation you and Jungkook just had in the car.

You didn’t know whether you believed him or not, if he was telling the truth when he said that he’d change and start trying. You just hope that he was. You’ve been left disappointed by him too many times already.

As you made your way to the building’s elevator, you were suddenly stopped by the company’s receptionist, Jenna. “Hey, {Name}.” Her cheery voice made you slightly irritated. Ever since the downfall between you and Jungkook happened, everything and everyone that resembled happiness made you feel sick. “Mr. Jung has requested for you to come to his office first thing today. Something about having to prepare a presentation for some visiting sponsors tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’ll head right up.” You smiled fakely, nodding.

After entering the elevator and going up to the highest floor—level twenty specifically. The few workers that worked on the level gave you greeting smiles, already knowing who you are. Out of everyone in the company, you’re the one who’s closest to the boss. You are his assistant after all. And since you’re so close to him, that meant you didn’t have to knock before entering his office.

“Hello sir,” you greeted warmly, smiling at the sight of Jaehyun behind his desk, dressed in the finest suit that hugged his figure perfectly, making every muscle in his body look more define.

“Hey,” Jaehyun greeted back, briefly glancing up from his computer with a bright smile on his face before returning back to the screen. “Glad that you’re finally here.”

“Yeah, sorry.” You apologized, closing the door behind you and quickly taking a seat at his desk. “I had a meeting with my son’s teacher this morning.”

“It’s alright, {Name}.” Jaehyun was quick to reassure you, noticing your uneasy expression. “I know you. You would never be late for work unless it was an emergency.” He then continued when seeing you begin to calm down. “Is everything alright with Minho?”

Your heart warmed at the mention of your son. Jaehyun knew about Minho—even met him, and your son even saw him as his ‘samchon’. “He’s okay, just some behavior problems.”

“Well, if you need any help, just let me know.” Jaehyun offered kindly, making you smile.

“Thank you,” you replied gratefully, smiling. “Now, about that presentation. Should we get started on creating it?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun answered instantly, turning one of the two computer screens he had on his desk towards you. “Now, I’m thinking of doing this type of set up for the presentation...”

The two of you spent the rest of the day on this important project. And after seven excruciating hours of staring at the computer, creating slides, applying data, you two were finally done.

With the once clear bright sky replaced with complete darkness, you and Jaehyun were still in his office, glass of wine in hand as you two celebrated this small accomplishment. By far, out of the five years you’ve worked for him this is the longest time you two spent on a simple presentation.

“Thank you for helping me with this.” Jaehyun showed his gratitude, smiling against the glass’s rim before taking a small sip. “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.”

“Oh, stop.” You waved him off, lowering your head to hide the evident blush that was forming on your cheeks. “You’re just saying that because I’m the only one who is willing to stay after hours with you.”

Jaehyun chuckled. The sound of his deep laughter sending shivers down your spine. “No, seriously. {Name},” he then suddenly reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. “Without you, I’d be lost. You’re the one who keeps me grounded, who keeps me from going absolutely crazy from the stress.”

“W-Well that’s my job.” You anxiously stuttered out, staring at your conjoined hands. “I’m your assistant. I’m suppose to help you with everything.”

“That’s not what I meant, {Name}.” His voice, the way his said your name made your heart skip a beat. Silence filled the room as you two just stared at one another, eyes shifting down at each other’s lips.

You didn’t know who made the first move, but next thing you knew his lips were on yours, and you were laid out on top of his desk. His tie and jacket discarded on the ground and the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, showing off his sharp collarbones. Your entire body was burning as your lips moved perfectly in sync with his, hands sliding down his toned torso, feeling his define muscles through the shirt’s material.

It was like you were in another world, the feeling of his lips moving away from yours and moving down your jawline and neck, leaving small, lingering kisses on your skin. You didn’t realize what you were doing until you felt his hands that were resting on your waist begin to move up and slide underneath your shirt, caressing your stomach.

Panic swept over you, making you instantly push away and wipe your lips with your hand. “Jae stop, I-I’m married.”

Jaehyun pulled away, taking a few steps back. “Shit, sorry. I-It’s just that—” he paused, running his hand frustratingly through his light brown hair, “—you haven’t talked about Jungkook for a long time and you haven’t been the same lately so I just thought you two separated.”

Your heart sunk from his words. “N-No, it’s okay. You don’t have to apologize.” You were standing up now, biting down on your bottom hard enough to where it drew blood. “Me and Jungkook are going through a rough patch right now,” you partially lied. “That’s why I’ve been acting differently lately.”

Jaehyun only nodded, swiping his thumb over his swollen lips. Neither of you knew what to say to each other.

“I-I should go,” you pointed towards the door. Again, Jaehyun nodded, reaching down and picking his jacket and tie up from the ground. “I’ll see you tomorrow, M-Mr. Jung. Have a good night.”

“You too,” was the only Jaehyun could bring himself to say as he watched you leave, chest heaving and lips still burning from yours.

.

“Well that meeting was a complete success,” was the first thing you said as you and Jaehyun entered his office, dropping the used file onto his desk before leaning yourself against it. “Congratulations, sir. You just got three new sponsorships for the company.”

“All thanks to you.” Jaehyun grinned, walking over to small fridge he kept inside his office and pulled out a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

You shook your head before correcting him, “Thanks to us.” You then watched as he poured himself and you a glass. “Are you sure drinking is a good idea? You still have to drive home.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jaehyun instantly reassured, handing your glass. “Plus we’ve got celebrate.”

Hesitantly you took the glass of champagne, “Would you be able to take me home?” And when he nodded, you gave in and took a small sip of the beverage.

And one glass soonturned into three, and then to four and now, you were completely wasted. You’ve always been a light head but Jaehyun, he was completely fine, pouring himself his fifth glass while watching you trying to hold in the champagne with amusement. “Okay, maybe that’s enough for you.”

You pouted when he took your half-empty glass away before gulping down his own. “Are you ready to head home now?” You then nodded.

Jaehyun and you then left the building, not having to bother saying goodbye to anyone else since you two were the only ones left at work. Jaehyun then led you towards his car, which was a beautiful black Ford Mustang. The sight of the expensive vehicle made your jaw drop, making Jaehyun chuckle at your stunned expression before opening the passenger door and allowing you to enter before closing it behind you.

“What is it?” Jaehyun asks the moment he starts his vehicle but doesn’t move, watching you with amusement as you looked around the inside with complete adoration. “Ugly?”

“No,” you instantly shook your head, smiling as you turned to face him. “It’s just really beautiful.”

Jaehyun raised a brow, “Doesn’t Jungkook have something like this?”

You shook your head, frowning slightly at the mention of his name. “No, he chose to trade it in for a more family friendly one for us when we got Minho.” You answered, running your hand gently across the dashboard’s smooth material. “We got a Mercedes SUV, but still, sometimes I miss his old Camari.” The many memories of the times you and Jungkook used to spend in his car began to flash through your mind, warming your heart. “It reminded me of the good old days with him. When everything was simple.”

Noticing the tears beginning to glisten in your eyes, Jaehyun reached over and placed his hand on your thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “Hey, you okay?”

You quickly nodded, clearing your throat and quickly blinking away the tears before they had the chance of escaping. “Yeah, I-I’m fine. Let’s just go, yeah?”

Jaehyun kept staring you, eyes filled with concern but nonetheless nodded and started to drive.

The drive was completely silent, neither of you saying a word to each other. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable though, but rather the opposite. Jaehyun and you were close with one another, close enough to where you two didn’t even have talk and yet still feel comfortable with each other.

When arriving at your house, your heart instantly sunk when seeing that Jungkook’s car wasn’t in the driveway. It was near eleven and his practice ended at eight. You knew exactly where he was right now—with her. Jaehyun must’ve noticed your fallen expression because next thing you knew you felt his hand on your shoulder. “Hey, if you need anyone to talk to, I’m here for you. You know that right? Always.”

You gave him a simple nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I know.” Glancing back at the empty driveway, your heart ached as heinous thoughts of Jungkook and Yeonha together consumed and haunted your mind, tears swelling up in your eyes once again. You then turned towards Jaehyun, “Do you want to come in?”

Your question shocked Jaehyun, making his eyes widen. He thought you were joking. But when seeing your glistening eyes, shining with tears, he knew you were serious, so he nodded.

.

.

.

Time flew by, and now it was one in the morning.

You and Jaehyun were sitting on your living room’s couch, you dressed in your pajamas which consisted of one of his shirts and a pair of boxers while Jaehyun was still in his suit.

Neither of you were drinking surprisingly, but instead had the tub of your favorite ice cream placed between you two, sharing it with your own individual spoon.

Jaehyun kept his word when he said that he’d be there for you. He sat there while you told him everything that has been going with you in the past week—hell, even the last six months. You told him about Jungkook’s love for you vanishing and him gaining feelings for another person. You told him about your guys’ open relationship, explaining how that was the only choice you had to keep your family together even if that meant you and Jungkook weren’t together.

Tears were spilling from your eyes uncontrollably and heavy sobs were falling from your lips, making your words come out illegible, but Jaehyun continued to listen nonetheless. “I’m sorry, {Name}.” He was speechless. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

You could only shrug, afraid that if you spoke again nothing but cries would come out.

“Jungkook’s a complete asshole—” Jaehyun was interrupted at the sound of the front door opening, both of you turning to see that it was none other than your husband himself entering the house.

The sound of approaching footsteps made your heartbeat quicken and hands tremble. Jaehyun stared at you, noticing your sudden change in demeanor.

When Jungkook approached the living room, his eyes instantly landed on you, and just as he was about to speak, his gaze then shifted on to Jaehyun who sat very close beside you, his gaze immediately hardening at the sight of him.

“H-Hey,” you quickly stood up from the couch, Jaehyun following. “Didn’t know you were coming home tonight.”

Jungkook’s glaring eyes remained on Jaehyun as he asked you, “Where’s Minho?”

“He’s with my eomma.” You answered, playing with your fingers anxiously while staring down at the ground, distancing yourself from Jaehyun. His tone was dark, angry almost. “Tonight’s date night.”

Instantly, you noticed Jungkook tense up. Every now and then, your mother would come take Minho for the night, allowing you and Jungkook to have the rest of day for yourselves, saying how having days together can go a long way in a marriage. But you and Jungkook haven’t been on a date in half a year.

“I-I should go.” Jaehyun awkwardly spoke up, clearing his throat and grabbing his suit’s jacket that was draped over the couch.

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” You agreed, guiding him towards the front door. Jungkook’s eyes never left Jaehyun as you bid him goodbye, not missing the way you smiled at him or how your eyes briefly scanned his strong figure.

The moment you closed the door, your heart sunk to your chest. Turning around, you were met with Jungkook’s burning eyes. He was angry, furious even. And you knew exactly why.

Jeon Jungkook hated Jung Jaehyun with every fiber and bone in his body.

~ shit’s about to go down in the next chapter!

TAGLIST:

@xworldwidecutieguyx​, @yoongis-soulmate​, @jikookvfans​, @heartfeltscribblings​, @chrissfuk​, @blazedprince​, @btsfaris​, @sonderkook​, @rspctot7​, @http-je0n​, @magic-fox-555​, @moonfairyjoon​, @taozibun1​, @ephemeralkookie​, @thesquiglybumblebee​, @httpjazel​, @justqueerandhereforthetea​, @dreamer95​, @--xxchrissyxx--,

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

The Part-Time Puppeteer - Chapter 06

<= Chapter 5

Summary : Lukas gets to have a heart-to-heart discussion with an absolute asshole. Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828971/chapters/81015496

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AAAAH I'M SORRY FOR THE TWO MONTHS HIATUS I HAD A WRITER BLOCK---

Anyway uuuh, new chapter, I have no idea if it's good or not but still, here it is. I did my best to offer you a longer chapter as a compensation, it's twice the length of the last one.

Happy reading ! Thank you for waiting all this time.

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Chapter 6 - “Oh. It’s you.”

The rest of the day had been… Quite blurry for the student. After coming back home, he had sat down at his desk, staring into space for… Minutes, hours, he hadn’t been able to tell. It was an understatement to say that he was in shock after what had happened. Even after everything, his mind couldn’t help but think this was just a joke, or that he had imagined the whole thing. But the script in his bag was a proof of the contrary. For a good while, the young man hadn’t found the courage to look back at it, as if it were some sort of cursed object, haunting him. But then, the Conductor’s words came back to him: “learn your text by tomorrow”. An order, a clear one, coming from one of his bosses. The student shivered as he remembered, soon bringing his hands to his face, massaging his closed, tired eyes. Oh, boy, why did he always get in that kind of situation… Even when he was a kid, he would often get dragged in things like this. He had thought this would get better as he grew up, but noooo, of fucking course it wouldn’t. Lukas let out a loud, long, exaggerated sigh, and stood up. He walked to his sofa bed all while dragging his feet and, once he was in front of it, it was like what was left of his energy left him. What a day . With another sigh, the student felt his body fall forward, and it wasn’t long before his face hit one of his pillows. Air was forced out of his lungs by the impact, though he did nothing but grunt in the fabric. Him? An actor? This couldn’t be right, this just… It wasn’t right. Sure, MJ was a jerk, but he still had the skills and the experience! In comparison, Lukas was just a law student- not a bad one, mind you, which only made it even more surprising to see him getting the role. It wasn’t like he had chosen the wrong scholar path, no, on the contrary, he was skilled in his major. But apparently, his bosses had seen something else deep inside that walking shell of anxiety… -“Uuuuugh...” his voice was low and tired. For a moment, he thought he was almost going to fall asleep like this, still wearing his clothes, but he reluctantly sat down. With a look full of weariness and unwillingness, the student’s attention went back to his bag, in which the script was. He didn’t want to learn the lines, and a single glance at his desk full of homework was a good way to understand why. But it seemed like his paycheck was now depending on it, as much as he would have preferred to remain a stagehand… -“Guess I don’t have a choice…” he mumbled, before moving his foot to reach for the bag, making it slide towards him, so he could open it. He supposed that he would be able to scribble down the answers to his homework during his lunch break… Or, at least, he hoped. And so, the young man spent the next two hours learning his lines, saying them out loud, so he could remember them. A good thing about his brain was that it learned pretty well from words and sounds. Thus, by saying them out loud, Lukas was pretty efficient in remembering them. Plus, truth to be told, those lines weren’t exactly as hard to learn as his law books… Not that it was a bad thing, far from it. At least, it made his job far easier. However, he wasn’t going to lie, there were a few parts that were harder to remember. Once he was done, the student hesitated on whether he should go to sleep (the reasonable option) or try to get some of his homework done. Sure, he was pretty tired, and the day had been filled by a lot of diverse emotions… But part of him knew he just wouldn’t be able to fall asleep knowing what awaited him the day after. He had always been very anxious, this was a secret to no one, and especially not himself… However, this whole thing was very new, and it made it all worse. And so… The student ended up staying up late until three in the morning, managing to get most of his homework done. One of the perks of being good at a subject was being fast. Of course, this would have given him much better results if he had worked on it seriously, without all the tiredness and all, but the context wasn’t really allowing him that.

Thus, Lukas packed up his college stuff for the next day and soon went to sleep for one very short night. Oh, well, not his first, far from it. Thankfully, he had a few sleeping meds he had kept from an old treatment, allowing him to fall asleep rather quick. However, this always came at a price- they made waking up a much more difficult moment, as his body was still very much under the influence of the medicine when that happened. And the next morning… Was no exception, especially since he only got to sleep for less than three hours. Fighting the urge to go back to sleep, Lukas managed to get up and prepare himself for college. New clothes, brushing his hair and teeth… It only took him a moment until he was ready to leave his small apartment. Oh, his face, however… It looked like it belonged to a rotten corpse, who had just come back to life… Somewhat. The trip to college was pretty ordinary, and so was his morning and afternoon, actually. He gave his teachers all the papers that were due, he aced one of his oral presentation despite looking like a dead man… No, really, this day was going well, which was surprising considering he was mostly surviving thanks to coffee and to the fear of collapsing in public. Yeah, no, he didn’t want any attention on him… Which was a funny thing to think about, because this was exactly what he was going to get with his new job! Once his classes were over, Lukas took the bus to his workplace, dread settling on his shoulders, heavier and heavier as the minutes passed. Oh, he didn’t want to get that role… Of course, he could tell his bosses, but there was a small part of him, deep down, that was curious about where this would lead him. Now, obviously, being a stagehand was a pretty classic job, one without risks… But this? While he was terrified of screwing up, especially since people would be looking at him… Yeah, there was something that prevented him from refusing this promotion. And, also, if that could piss MJ off, then it was a good bonus. The studio reception was calm compared to the day before and, for a moment, just a small moment, the student thought his shift was going to be nice. But ooh, no, he couldn’t have nice things- the moment he opened the door leading to the staff areas, he winced as many voices echoed around him. They were coming from all directions, through walls, doors too! It was a large cacophony in there, and people were running around, carrying stuff and bringing props for each shooting. Actions movies, dramas, comedies… Each type had its own part of the studio, but there was this central room linking them all together and, oh, this place was just a battlefield. Moving fast through the agitated crowd, Lukas tried to reach his accredited part of the studio- the children shows shootings. Avoiding props almost falling on his feet accidentally, sneaking between people carrying hot coffee, and bending down to avoid planks being carried around… He bumped into someone just before he got to open the door leading to his area. -“Oh, I- I’m sorry,” he stammered, quickly moving back, so he could apologize properly to the person he had bumped into. However, his eyes widened when he recognized the figure in front of him. Mike! The good twin. For a second, the latter’s face had alarmed him, as he thought he had bumped into MJ instead… But thankfully, while having the same face, the two brothers had very different hairstyles and fashion choices. The student let out a sigh- phew, he wasn’t sure he would have been ready for MJ’s bullshit right at the beginning of his shift. -“Oh, hey!” Mike seemed almost as surprised as he was, though his expression quickly changed to a warm, welcoming one: “Good to see you again- oh, wait, let’s, uh… Get inside,” he then mumbled, opening the door quickly so they both could leave the absolute war zone they were in. Lukas didn’t lose any time and followed the other like a shadow would, only getting the opportunity to sigh in relief as they found themselves in a much quieter place. Kinda ironic that the children shows part of the

studio was calmer than the staff hall... -“Hey,” he finally replied, now that the “battlefield” was behind them: “It’s good to see you too,” he answered trustfully, with a smile. He hadn’t seen the other since MJ’s outburst the day before, and getting the chance to meet him again was a good way of making Lukas’ day a little better and… Less chaotic. -“How are you?” he then asked, deciding to take a moment for a conversation with his only friend in the studio so far. Plus, he was… Worried. With what had happened the day before, and how MJ had thrown Mike’s puppet on the floor like it was nothing, he wanted to make sure everything was okay. -“Oh, I’m… Doing fine,” the other looked away with an awkward smile, which was an obvious sign that things had definitely happened yesterday. With how furious the actor had been when leaving the shooting, Lukas could very well imagine the latter taking his frustration on his brother. What an asshole. But, it was family business, and he couldn’t say anything about it, as a stranger. -“What about you?” Mike added quickly, visibly determined on changing the topic: “I heard you got the role, yesterday. Congrats!” The praise took the student by surprise, and he felt his cheeks reddening from the embarrassment. Oh, man, this was new, yeah… He wasn’t used to that kind of thing. His stance tensed up, and a sheepish smile took place on his lips. -“Oh, uh… Thanks,” he blurted out, and it was his turn to look away: “It’s… Really weird, I guess I’m just… Feeling a bit shocked, you know?” he turned his head back to his new friend and a nervous giggle escaped him. He was fidgeting, not really knowing how to respond to that. -“Ah, yeah, it’s your first time,” Mike nodded, remembering that Lukas had first been hired as a stagehand, not as an actor: “Don’t worry, children shows are the perfect way to start as a beginner. You know, with the public being less critical and all… I’m sure you’ll get used to it in no time.” The puppet maker was kind, trying to reassure Lukas and ease his anxiety. Too bad that his stage fight was skyrocketing since the moment he had stepped in the building again… Another nervous giggle left his lips, and he started to rub his arm, not knowing what to do with his hands. -“I suppose so…” he muttered, still smiling, though it looked less genuine: “It’s just that… I mean… Why me? I’m just a guy who wanted a part-time job. I’m not an actor, I don’t have any experience…” -“Well, from what I’ve heard, you were pretty good yesterday- oh, speaking about that…” Mike’s face darkened, as if he had just remember to mention something unpleasant: “I think you should… Avoid MJ, as much as you can, from now on. My brother, he’s… He didn’t take it well, I’m not gonna lie, and… I mean, you saw how he is with people, he’s not the best at being with others. Now, with what happened yesterday, I don’t think he’ll make your life any easier.” The student grimaced as he listened to his friend. Yeah… Yeah, he had seen that coming. With how livid MJ had been when leaving the set, it wasn’t surprising that the latter was going to make his shifts hell. God, he really hoped he would manage to avoid that jerk… -“Yeah, I… Kinda expected that,” he admitted, tilting his head to the side with a wince: “But, uh… Since he’s not part of the team anymore, I shouldn’t run too much into him… Right?” -“I wish I’d say yes, but…” Mike answered, his face showing conflict: “He has some other roles in the studio, and he might come see me now and then, so… Yeah. Be careful and do your best to avoid him. He’s not… The best person to be around when he’s like this.” “Oh, you mean all the time, then?” Lukas thought to himself, but kept his mouth shut. Not the best thing to say out loud, especially when it came to said person’s twin. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why Mike was making so many efforts for someone that clearly didn’t deserve them… But, then again, he was a stranger, it wasn’t his place to say anything. -“Will do,” he assured his friend, before looking at his watch and- oh, shit, he was going to

be late. Apparently, it must have been visible from his expression, because the puppet maker let out a soft giggle: -“Oh, yeah, it’s time,” he looked up, as if he were trying to remember something: “Last time I saw the Conductor and DJ Grooves, they were in the conference room with some investors. You should go practice in the meantime… My workshop is open, if you want,” he offered with a shrug: “It’s a small room, but I’m normally the only one there, so if you wanna have some quiet, alone time to rehearse, well… I need to help the stagehands for some set repairs, so I won’t bother you.” The offer was a really nice attention, another one that did help to make Lukas’ day a little better. Considering his promotion, he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to help the other stagehands while waiting for his bosses, but… Well, practicing really wouldn’t hurt, especially considering how short his night had been. -“Thanks, I really appreciate it,” he gave Mike a warm smile, before pointing to a door on the other side of the room: “It’s this one, right?” he asked for confirmation. -“Yep, that’s the one! Just, uh… Please don’t touch anything, most of the puppets and costumes aren’t done, so they’re quite fragile.” Lukas assured him he wouldn’t, and even then, he didn’t have any reason to. At least, contrary to his friend’s twin, he knew how to respect someone’s work… And with that, the two waved to one another, before heading to opposite directions. The student walked to the door with a quick pace, wanting to get as much time as possible to practice. When he opened it, he was surprised to see that, yeah, the room was pretty small indeed, even smaller than what he had imagined. The place was full of puppets hanging from the ceiling, and the walls were covered in eccentric and colorful clothes. It was almost eye straining! Two out of the four corners of the rooms were used to stock supplies and different types of fabric, making the room even smaller than it originally was. Then, hidden in the third corner was a desk with a sewing machine on top of it. It looked like an old but durable one, the kind that would last years even if it was out-of-date. Other than that, the desk was full of smaller supplies, like needles, sewing threads, pens, pieces of paper, templates… It was like this room had no free space other than the center of it. Well, Lukas supposed this is where he would rehearse, then. Not like there were many other option… The young man closed the door behind him and made a few steps, his eyes looking all around him. He didn’t think it was possible to fit so many things in a single room, but, hey, he was wrong! He then shook his head- it was time to work. After clearing his throat, the student opened his bag and took the script out, flipping the pages up to the parts he had the most trouble remembering. Oh, jeez, he really was doing this, wasn’t he? This was so weird… But whatever paid his bills and his studies, he guessed. And so… He got to work. It was a lot easier to practice when there was no one around. No one to judge him, no one to mock him when he fucked up… Yeah, it made it all easier. Sure, he didn’t have any experience in it, but at least he had to admit it was pretty fun. Nonetheless, he still had no idea why the two directors chose him over an experienced actor like MJ… Like, of course he had noticed the latter was a huge asshole, but other than that, his acting skills were obvious. Maybe he was being used to give MJ a lesson…? This seemed like the most probable explanation. After all, MJ’s presence in the casting was supposed to bring attention to the show… And now, one of the most important roles had been given to a nobody instead. It didn’t seem like a good idea, marketing-wise. Law was his specialty, but that didn’t mean he was stupid when it came to other things. Lukas couldn’t believe he had been chosen for his “talents”, because he had none on that field. After a moment, he paused his practice, shutting his eyes and letting out an exaggerated sigh. Shit, this was distracting him. He couldn’t focus

on his lines. His acting skills, if he had any, were affected by it. It was like something was entering his mind from one side only to disappear through another. Memorizing the words was harder than he had thought it would be the day before, and he couldn’t help but grunt in frustration. Fuck, he knew he was able to remember those lines, he had learned much more complex texts before! This script was simple, so the young man put the blame on his short night of sleep. Furthermore, it was hard to memorize something only by starting the day before… He was about to start again when he heard the door opening behind him, cutting him short. The student turned to the direction of the noise, expecting to see Mike’s face and… Well, in a way, he kinda did. Except it wasn’t Mike. It was MJ, the evil twin. “Oh, fuck me,” he thought, paling up. For fuck’s sake, right after Mike told him to avoid his brother! Was it a joke or something?! Before he even got the chance to speak, MJ’s expression changed from a neutral one to one of utter disgust. Yeah, clearly, the other had expected to see his twin, but… Nope, Lukas had been the one in the room. “Lesson learned, never going back in that workshop alone,” the student told himself, though it was way too late to do anything about it. -“Oh. It’s you,” the actor spat, this time not trying to keep his nice mask on like he had been when they had met the day before: “The fuck are you doing here?” The celebrity’s eyes were glaring at him, all while examining him from top to bottom. It was… Very unpleasant, to be stared at this way. And being talked to like that? Yeah, no, Lukas was perhaps a shy person, but he didn’t want to let anyone walk all over him, especially not an asshole like MJ. Usually, he tended to flee conflict, but today was different. He was way too tired to deal with this shit. -“Yes , hello to you too,” he muttered as an answer, quickly putting his attention back to the script: “Your brother’s not here, but he told me I could use the room in the meantime.” Apparently, his tone didn’t please the actor, whose eyes narrowed in response: -“No kidding, I can see my brother’s not here, dumbass,” he shrugged and rolled his eyes: “I’m not blind.” Oooh, the insult didn’t fall on deaf ears, and it really rubbed Lukas the wrong way. He turned to the celebrity again, this time returning the latter’s glare: -“Well, good for you, I guess,” the student spoke louder than his previous mutter. His annoyance was much more visible, though he still remained polite: “If you’re looking for Mike, he’s with the stagehands.” -“Didn’t ask,” the actor retorted harshly. The other’s eyes then fell on the script, and his expression darkened. Well, shit, this couldn’t be good- and, just like Lukas had predicted, it wasn’t. MJ’s look of hatred was soon replaced by a mocking yet salty expression, one that the student really didn’t like. -“Aw, am I interrupting something?” the celebrity taunted him, leaning against the door frame as a smirk took place on his lips. -“Actually, yes. You are,” Lukas’ patience was running out. God, he wanted to punch that guy so bad… Well, not like he would ever do that, he wasn’t that kind of person. Still, the urge was there. In response to his honest words, the actor scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes again. God, that fucking asshole… -“What, don’t tell me you honestly think you have what it takes!” MJ’s tone had changed from a mocking one to a harsher, meaner one: “You have no idea how to play a role- lemme guess, you never had any theater courses before, hm?” At Lukas’ silence, the celebrity snickered bitterly: -“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re just a nobody, a guy who happened to be there at the right time. But you, an actor? Don’t make me laugh. You don’t know shit about acting.” Okay, now that was enough. Politeness was nice and all, but with this guy? No, nu-huh, nope, not happening. In an instant, Lukas’ attempts at remaining civil were thrown away through a window. No one could talk to him like that, and not even his anxiety was

going to silence him. -“Oh, I don’t know shit about acting, that’s right,” he talked back, his tone much more aggressive: “But at least I know how to be a decent person.” -“Excuse me?” MJ’s face showed a mix of bewilderment and fury, probably because no one ever confronted him like this in the past: “I didn’t steal someone else’s job!” -“Hah, that’s rich!” the student scoffed, raising his arms with a scandalized expression: “You lost your job! I didn’t do anything!” his voice echoed in the room as his anger intensified: “If you weren’t such an asshole, maybe you’d have kept your place in the-” However, the student didn’t even get the time to finish his sentence. The celebrity had dashed towards him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, bringing their face close as an intimidating gesture: -“Watch your fucking mouth,” was the warning he got from the other, whose eyes were fixed on his: “There are so many things I could do to make your life a living Hell. I have a lot of strings I can pull, and if I were you, I wouldn’t risk that,” the actor’s voice had got lower, like a murmur, a clear threat directed to him. But Lukas was just getting so fucking tired of it. Enough was enough. He grabbed the celebrity’s hand and pulled it away, forcing the latter to let go of him. -“So, let me get this straight: you want to destroy me because I pointed out how much of a jerk you were to everyone? And you still think you’re the decent person out of us two? You might want to rethink that, buddy.” The response he got was yet another glare, though this time there was no spiky answer. “Of course I’m right, asshole, can’t say anything back, now, can you?” he thought to himself, pride swelling inside him. Man, this was perhaps the first argument he ever won… Holy shit, yeah, it was- and he didn’t even stutter! Maybe he needed to be tired more often- yeah, no, that wasn’t a good idea. Air was forced out of his lungs as he was pushed away, though despite the fear of being punched, it never came. The look of pure hatred he was getting from MJ was almost burning him and, for a moment, he really thought he would get attacked- being someone who had never fought anyone, he wasn’t really confident about his abilities to fight back. But all MJ did was to step back to the door, a furious expression written all over his face: -“You wanna play that game with me?” he spat: “Fine. But mark my words, stagehand, I will win.” And not even giving Lukas the time to retort anything, the actor stormed off the room and slammed the door behind him. It screamed “ I am mad, and I want everyone to know that”. Lukas, however, did not give a single fuck about it. Perhaps it was the tiredness speaking (and it was), but if the other wanted to fight, then Lukas would be ready. Well, he probably wouldn’t in hindsight, once his mind cleared up… But at the moment, the young man’s anger was making him blind to many aspects. One of them being that MJ was a famous person who was indeed capable of destroying him, and making him fail his studies with just the right calls. But this wasn’t something Lukas would realize before calming down. And only then, he would ask himself “why the hell couldn’t I keep my mouth shut like usual?!” Until that moment… The student kept rehearsing, though his anger prevented him from actually anything. Today was going to be a long day…

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Hopefully Lukas won't have too much trouble with this jerk of an actor :)c (who I love with all my heart)

=> Chapter 7

[tanyawritesstories]

She Bites | Max Phillips x Siren!Reader

I came up with the strange idea of: what if Max was bitten by another creature? And siren was the natural answer for the reader's creature. I imagined their water form as basically the mermaids (sirens) from Pirates of the Caribbean. Enjoy my weirdness!

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: vampirism (duh), plenty of sexual innuendos, flirting, Max is a bit of a douche, insinuations of murder, blood, biting, fluff, Max and reader are unaware of each other's supernatural identities

•••

Your day at the office started slow but now it was picking up. You had just locked in your fourth sale, and began printing the finalization papers. You signed off on them and stood to walk them to your boss's office. On your way, you passed Andrew, looking the part of a hungover, underpaid college student, like he always did.

"Hey Y/N, you sure you don't want to come out tonight with us?" He asked.

"Um, no thank you, Andrew. I have something planned already," you responded politely.

"Aw, c'mon," he looked you up and down sleazily, "I can make it worth your while."

"Andrew, can't you tell the lady has important plans," the spritely voice from behind you made you tense and turn around. Your boss was standing there with a smug look on his handsome face. "She's been telling me how much she is looking forward to her date tonight."

You looked at the floor sheepishly and you could see Andrew shift awkwardly in place. "You're doing great on that presentation, buddy," Max assured the other man, "Now run along."

Andrew scurried back to his desk and Max leaned against the wall beside you, his arms crossed over his chest. "Are we still on for seven tonight?" He asked with a smirk.

You looked up at him and smiled, nodding. "Absolutely. You're picking me up at my place right?"

He nodded back. "Of course, sweet cheeks. Especially if there's a chance I can come inside after dinner."

You smirked back at him, your tone as flirty as his. "Play your cards right and maybe I'll let you."

He chuckled darkly. "Oh trust me, baby. I've never lost a game."

You took a step closer to him, booping his nose gently with your finger. "Then you should have nothing to worry about." At that, you tucked the papers for him into his crossed arms and walked back to your desk.

Of course you knew what kind of reputation Max Phillips carried. Who didn't. He was the type of person your sisters would call a man-slut. Arrogant, attractive, and brainless. Also the type you thought would make easy food.

Your clan had moved to the city only a few months ago, having come to the conclusion that there wasn't enough food in the ocean. You and several of your mer-sisters had taken to the land, tasked with feeding your family. It was getting increasingly more difficult for sirens to survive, especially out at sea. People didn't travel out on the ocean as much as they did a hundred years ago. Plus, now their boats were made of metal and a lot bigger. Even with super strength and the combined forces of the clan, they were hard to take down. Attacks usually ended with more than a few injuries and only a small reward.

Blending in with the humans was easy. Your tail turned to legs when on land and your slit eyes, fangs, and claws only came out when you attacked.

You had figured out a plan to be able to support the clan for hopefully a long time. If you were able to take control of this company, you could employ the rest of your clan to run the business and any new hires would be dinner. It was easy. Or so you thought. You hadn't exactly anticipated the charming and quick-witted sales manager standing in your way.

You had taken out a few minor employees already, none of them were missed and nothing was suspected. You had used your siren charm to hypnotize them into submitting resignation forms the day before you took them.

You were confused when Mike went missing before you could get him. You thought maybe one of your sisters had gotten to him first, but perhaps he just quit. It was frustrating to think you missed such a good potential meal, but alas you had work to do.

You knew you had to ultimately take down Ted, but Ted was wound around Max's finger. So your current target was Max. You played along with his douchey behavior, falling into the role of the shy, naive new girl that was easy to woo. It had worked thus far, getting you a date with your target victim. You planned on insinuating that you would sleep with him, get him back to your place, and then kill him. It would be easy.

You had managed to conjure up a final sale before you left for the day. You gave Max a wave and flirty wink as you walked by his office. You mouthed the words 'don't be late' before the elevator doors closed.

~~~~

Back at your apartment you had completed putting the finishing touches on your makeup. Minimal, since beauty came naturally to sirens. No matter how they looked, they were always beautiful and always praised for it.

You slipped on the sleek black dress. It was satin with thin straps and a slight V plunge in the middle, exposing a teasing amount of cleavage. You looked good enough to eat. You knew Max would think the same. You grabbed a light jacket and donned it to cover your top half. You heard the doorbell ring and looked at the clock on the wall. Five minutes early, typical punctuality. You grabbed a pair of black heels, quickly throwing them on and grabbing your purse.

You found Max with a surprisingly sincere smile on his face when you opened the door.

"Good evening, doll," he greeted, "Ready for our date?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," you replied cheerfully.

He was wearing a nice suit as usual, but he had foregone the tie and waistcoat. Instead having the first few buttons of his shirt undone. It was a very relaxed look for him, and, shockingly, you didn’t dislike it.

You walked to his car, once again surprised when he opened the door for you. You slid in and thanked him. The drive to the restaurant didn't take as long as you thought it would.

Max offered you his arm as you walked in together. You had made the reservation, not trusting him to do it. You let him pull out your chair for you as you removed your jacket. Max only noticed once he was sitting in his own chair across from you. You snatched the wine list and glanced over it. From the corner of your eye you could see him staring unashamedly at your chest where the dip exposed the tops of your breasts.

“Do you have a preference?” You asked. “Anything red is fine with me,” Max answered, his eyes didn’t leave your body even when he knew you were watching him. You scanned back over the list, picking out something simple. “You look stunning tonight.”

You looked up to find Max with a smirk on his face. Willing a blush to come to your cheeks, you looked down at your plate. “That’s kind of you, Max. But I’m afraid you’re a bit of a liar.” He pouted adorably, leaning his elbows on the table. “Nonsense. You’re the most beautiful woman in the office,” he complimented. He reached over and took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You knew that was rubbish. Everyone had a crush on either Amanda or Zabeth. If someone had a crush on you it was because of your siren charm, otherwise they hated you because you did your job and got praised for it.

You ordered your food and found it easy to make conversation with Max. He kept up the perfect attitude with snarky and flirty thrown in. You weren’t learning much about him but you were learning his traits. You didn’t expect him to be such a good listener. He hung onto every word you said and asked questions here and there. You almost felt bad for spinning him the entire fake backstory you had made up for yourself. You tried asking him questions but he only answered a few before turning the conversation back to you.

By the time dessert came you had almost run out of fake information and stories to tell him. This was getting tiring, you hadn’t expected him to act like this. Most men couldn’t shut up about themselves, but you hadn’t gotten hardly anything out of him. It was strange, for sure. Max offered to pay and you let him think he was doing you a favor. He stood first and grabbed your coat, helping slide it over your arms and back. His hands stayed on your shoulders and he whispered into your ear.

“So did I play well?” You smirked turning to face him, putting your hands on his chest. “You’ll see, later.”

He placed his hand on the small of your back and led you back out to his car. He drove with one hand, the other was draped over the center console. You figured it was time to answer his question now. You took his hand and rested it on your knee, keeping your eyes out the window. You could hear him turn his head briefly to look at you. You waited until his eyes were back on the road before sliding his hand up your leg a little bit, you let go and allowed him to decide what he wanted to do next.

He took the hint and slid his hand further up your leg, pushing your dress up in the process. He stopped on your inner thigh, slowly rubbing your warm skin. You knew what he was doing, he was teasing you, trying to make you beg. This time you weren’t going to pretend, he would wait until you got home and was inside your room. If you let him live that long.

You made it back home and invited Max in. “Make yourself comfortable, you want anything more to drink?”

You strolled to your drink cabinet, kicking your heels off on the way there, and pulled out scotch for yourself. “I’ll have what you’re having, sweet cheeks,” he said sitting down on your sofa.

You turned, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. You jumped when you felt his chest press into your back, his nose nuzzling into your neck. How did he get behind you so fast? You probably just didn’t hear him. It was unlikely with your acute senses but who knows.

“Can we skip the drinks?” He whispered huskily into your ear. You reached back and ran your fingers into his hair. “You’re eager, aren’t you?” You replied making sure your tone was as smooth as his.

"I'm hungry," he said, "and I wanna know what you taste like." He ended his sentence with a squeeze to your ass that actually made you gasp. He was good at dirty talk, you were almost starting to feel bad about having to kill such a fine specimen.

You turned around in his grasp and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You expected him to try and heat it up right away, yet he surprised you once again. He took the kiss as slow and deep as you, keeping one hand on your ass, massaging it to his liking.

You broke away from his lips after a while of having them locked together, instead trailing kisses over his jaw. He took the break to place kisses and licks up and down your neck. You nuzzled your nose into the flesh of his neck, seeing the perfect moment open up.

You didn't hesitate.

Your pupils became slits, with your fingernails extending into sharp points and anchoring themselves into his suit coat. Your fangs descended into their proper places, now poised for harvesting. You barely registered the feeling of his teeth scraping along your skin before you bit down.

Your fangs pierced his skin with more resistance than you were expecting. However, that wasn’t the strangest thing to occur at that moment. You felt a sharp burning pain in your own neck, right where Max had been licking. Did he...he had just bitten you!

You retracted your fangs and shoved Max away, his teeth having unlodged from your skin. You glanced at your neck where two puncture holes were now steadily exuding blood.

"You fucking bit me!" You shouted.

Max recovered from your shove, his eyes tinged yellow, a smear of blood on his upper lip…and his own fangs.

"Why the hell do you taste like fish!" He yelled back.

You were beyond confused. "What? Doesn't matter, who the hell are you!" You grabbed a towel and quickly placed it over your bite wound.

"Me? Who are you!" He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, "Ugh, and why in fucks name does your blood taste salty."

"Usually when I bite people, they die, not complain about how my blood tastes," you grimaced.

"That's what happens when you bite a vampire, sugar tits," he deadpanned.

Your mouth dropped open. Well that explains a lot, but in addition, it made you angry. How were you supposed to take over the company now?

"I didn't know I had a fellow vamp working in my building," he smiled, "Though, that doesn't explain the fishy taste."

You rolled your eyes, heading towards your bedroom to find a bandage. "I'm not a vampire, I'm a siren. Did you honestly think vampires were the only supernatural beings walking this planet?"

Max followed not far behind you, intrigued by your revelation. "A siren, like a mermaid? Where's your tail?"

"I don't have a tail while I'm on land, and no, sirens are much deadlier than mermaids," you informed gruffly. Max appeared to be thinking over your words while he watched you tend to the two holes in your neck. He was unaffected by your bite, his skin having already healed itself.

"Why were you trying to kill me?" He suddenly inquired. You looked over to see him lying back on your bed. He had removed his suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, comfortable as could be.

"Because my sister's and I need to eat and I don't like killing just anyone on the street," you answered.

"Are the rest of your sisters as hot as you?" He sat up as you crossed the room, watching your every move. You sneered at him, "I figured killing you was an easy way to take over the company, therefore providing my family with a steady food source, and ridding the world of one less asshole."

Max nodded along to your words. "Great idea, sugar plum, but half the office has already been turned. Tough luck," he mocked.

You swore under your breath, "Then there's no point in working for the company anymore. You can leave now."

No wonder it had been so easy to lure him in, he was playing you too. You both fell right into each other's traps.

Max rose from your bed. He walked to you and gave you a teasing smile, pinching your cheek like an affectionate grandparent. "Don't worry, fish lips. Maybe we can work something out," he winked at you.

You pulled away from him and glared as he swung his jacket over his shoulder. "See you at the office tomorrow!"

~~~~

Max hadn't noticed you came into his office as you entered the same time as Evan was leaving. The loud thud of papers landing harshly on his desk made him look up.

"My resignation form," you said, "since my purpose has been...worn out."

Max looked taken aback despite the fact that you told him you would be quitting last night. "Why is that a reason to leave?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I literally just told you, and you know about me when my existence is supposed to be a secret so…" you trailed off.

Max looked to be thinking again, never a good sign. He took your papers off his desk and promptly threw them in the trash bin. "No."

You raised your eyebrows, "No?" He nodded, "No. You happen to be doing the best work here so I can't let you go."

You put your hands on your hips. The audacity of this man! "Huh, right ok. Then I'll just walk out and never come back and there's nothing you can do to stop me," you said firmly. You turned heading towards the door.

"I could tell."

You looked back at Max, who was now standing, hands in his pockets. "Excuse me?"

"I could tell. I could walk out and announce to everyone that you're part fish and all I'd have to do to prove it, is throw some salt water on you," he threatened. You realized as he talked that he was dead serious, and it scared you. "Yeah, I did my research on sirens, believe it or not. I know how you operate," his smile evil and teasing at the same time as he moved to the front of the desk and sat on the edge. "If you stay, your secret is safe with me."

"That's blackmail," you stated obviously.

"Pfft," Max rolled his eyes, "And? Does it look like I'm giving you much choice here, sweet cheeks? You stay with the company and I'll help you, it's a lot easier for me to obtain blood, and I can do it without killing them. I can help you."

You sighed in frustration. What choice did you have? You hated him for not giving you an alternative, but the company wasn't all bad and pay was decent.

"Fine." Was all you said before walking out and resuming your work.

~~~~

Max had stayed true to his word, you had been listening, and he hadn't even hinted that you might be a dangerous supernatural creature to anyone. Maybe he was due more credit than you gave him

You were currently sitting on your sofa, wearing comfortable leggings and a t-shirt, drinking a beer while watching a movie. You were interrupted by a knock on your door. When you answered it you didn't expect to see Max standing on the other side with a cooler in one hand. He was wearing a button up with a black leather jacket and jeans, it was the most casual you'd ever seen him and he still looked so good.

"I brought dinner," he said simply. He unzipped the cooler bag and showed you its contents; four large plastic bags filled halfway up with blood.

"Max!" You whisper yelled. You ignored his smile and pulled him inside by his arm, quickly closing the door. "You can't just show me that, wait till you're inside," you sighed, "Now what do you want?"

"These are for you," he said, "and your family of fishes." He set the cooler down on the counter and proceeded to take the bags of blood and arrange them nicely in your fridge.

"You got that for me?" You asked, skeptical of his sudden kindness. "Yes, I said I would help you, so I am." He grabbed a beer out of the fridge while he was in there and took your place on the sofa.

This man was making a habit out of shocking you. He noticed as you stood shell-shocked in the middle of the room. "Did you really think I wouldn't keep my word?"

You wanted to be mad at him, you desperately wanted to be mad.

"No, I didn't think you would. I thought you were joking," you admitted. You took a seat next to him and took another sip of your beer.

"You wound me, fish lips," he sassed. You sighed, trying to maintain your current mindset of not being mad at him. “Only one thing,” you looked at him, “Can I see your tail?”

Your eyes practically rolled on their own. “Aw, c’mon,” he pouted, “I brought dinner for your whole family and saved your job, it’s the least you could do.”

“You do know that when I’m in the water the tail is the only thing I’m wearing,” you said. You watched as Max’s lips slowly turned upwards into a smug smirk. “You dickhead, that’s exactly what you want!” You took a pillow from the sofa and chucked it at his head, heading towards your room to shut yourself in.

He burst into laughter and got up to follow you. You attempted to close the door in his face but he caught it. Even with all your strength thrown against it he was able to hold it open like it was nothing.

“No, I’m genuinely curious, sweetheart,” he said once he was able to stop laughing. You stopped fighting him once you heard him. He’d never called you sweetheart before, it was normally irritating nicknames.

“I’ll think about it,” you relented. He smiled. “I did bring some of that blood just for us. You want to have dinner with me again?”

For once you found yourself smiling along with Max Philips.

[etoileholland]

wrapped in red | chapter 1; oh holy night, I’m alone tonight

Tom Holland x reader series

summary; two Christmases ago, while you were working your usual seasonal job at a holiday gift wrapping shop, Tom came rushing in at the last second to have some last minute presents wrapped. As time went on, he quickly became enchanted by you, and was soon wrapped up in your life, and you his. However, things would take a turn for the worst when someone from your past emerges, causing your relationship to unravel. Could it be salvaged, or was this romance destined to live in Christmas past?

this story will contain; fluff, with some angst sprinkled in

warnings for this chapter; none

word count; 3.2k

a/n; here it is! I’m beyond excited for this series to debut, I’ve poured a lot out into this series as a whole so I really hope you enjoy ❤ if you’d like to be tagged in upcoming chapters please let me know!

Christmas: a day that’s usually associated with love, cheer, and magic. A day that’s loved by many people all around the world, a day that brings people together, a day wrapped with hope.

Christmas used to be one of your least favourite holidays, until very recently, that is. For you, Christmas was filled with awkward and tense family dinners, with loneliness, underlying anger, and hopelessness.

Until one unsuspecting Christmas, two years ago.

//Two year ago//

You were working your seasonal job at a gift wrapping shop on Oxford Street. It was a fairly easy job, with little to no stress. That is, except for the occasional client who would complain about the prices. Other than that, it was a pretty nice job. The hours were flexible, and your boss allowed you to do coursework when there were no customers in the shop, which was nice since you were in your second year of university.

Today was Christmas, and just like last Christmas, you were working alone tonight. It was fairly slow today, with only the occasional last minute shopper popping in since everyone was at home celebrating with their loved ones. And since you were the only person who didn’t have a family, you had to work. It’s pretty depressing when you sit and think about it, but it’s true, you didn’t have a family like your boss and coworkers do.

You only had about ten minutes left until closing time, so to pass the time, and to take your mind off the fact that you were completely and utterly alone, you were sitting at your workstation, reading your favourite book. You were so engrossed in your make believe world when you heard the bell above the door ring, signaling that a customer had entered the store.

Sitting up in your seat, you closed your book and pushed it to the side. You looked up to see a boy rush in, a boy that seemed around your age. His cheeks were slightly frostbitten, and there were small snowflakes sprinkled on his hair. He was carrying a tall brown paper bag in one hand, his phone in the other. He knocked the snow off his shoes on the doormat, and when he was finished, swiftly walked over to you. When your eyes met, he gave you a small yet rushed smile. 

“Hi,” he let out an exhale, shaking the rest of the snow off his coat, “Is it too late for me to have a few things wrapped?” He set the bag on the counter carefully. “I just got off a flight back here from Spain and I bought these presents before the flight since it was laid over, but I was in such a rush I forgot to buy wrapping paper and no one else is open to wrap gifts and I’m under a tight time constraint.” He spoke so quickly that he was out of breath, his face turning redder by the second. “Can you please help me?” He looked at you with pleading eyes, and a small quiver in his voice. You could tell that it seemed he was on the verge of tears, “Please?”

Sliding the bag closer to you, so that you could peer inside, you mentally counted how many items needed to be wrapped. There seemed to be around ten things inside the bag, which would take some time, but it could be done. You looked up at the boy, who was looking back at you with pleading eyes.

“Of course I can help you, that’s what I’m here for.” You smiled at the boy, and a smile beamed across his face.

“Really?” He asked, “it wouldn’t be too much trouble for you?”

You shook your head. “No, I promise not at all.” Taking the gifts out of the bag, you carefully laid them all out on the counter. There was something that was wrapped in a leather casing, two matching knitted jumpers, a book of piano sheet music, a cookbook, a small jumper that was either for a small child or a dog, a pair of AirPods, and lastly a vintage camera. He seemed to have good taste in gifts, for each item seemed handpicked, even though he said he was in a rush when he bought them.

“Not to pressure you,” he spoke up quietly, “but about how long do you think it’ll take you to wrap those?”

You pondered his question for a second, taking into account the multiple items he brought in. “So, this may take a little bit of time, maybe about 30 minutes?” You estimated, and judging from his facial expression, he seemed happy with the time frame.

“That’s fantastic, now as long as the London traffic isn’t too bad then I should make it home in plenty of time.”

You quickly glanced up at the clock on the wall, the time being five minutes after five. “By the time I’m done, I think you’ll have just missed the rush hour, so you should be good.”

“Thank you.” He flashed a quick smile at you. “And what time do you close?”

We already did, you thought to yourself. Since you didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was keeping you late, you instead said, “at 6, so don’t worry.” You gave him a reassuring, and hopefully, a convincing smile. When he smiled back, you knew that he believed you. Getting out of your chair and pointing to the wall that was lined with various gift wrap, you asked him which colours he would like.

“Red and gold, please.” He pointed to the crimson red colour, and the gold foiled paper. “Those two right there are my favourites.” Tearing off large sheets of paper, and grabbing a few varying sizes to accommodate each gift, you walked back over to your table, laying out the pieces of gift wrap.

“Do you have a preference for which gifts to be wrapped in a certain colour?” You asked, to which he nodded his head no.

Picking a piece at random to wrap first, you grabbed the gift that looked the most intriguing to you. It was a thin leather case, with two things etched into the leather, the word “Omega” and the numbers “007”. The case was heavier than it looked, and by the looks of it, seemed quite expensive. “It’s a watch.” He spoke up, “it’s for my mate Harrison. He loves James Bond, and watches, so when I heard that Omega released a limited edition James Bond collection, I knew I had to buy him one.” He held out his hand, palm faced up. Realising that he wanted you to hand it back to him, you placed it gently in his hands. You watched him open the leather bound case carefully, and you gasped when you saw the watch. It must’ve cost him a fortune, you thought. 

“I picked the watch that was designed after the one that James Bond wore in ‘No Time to Die’, since Harrison pointed out how cool the watch looked when he watched the film.” He closed the case, and handed it back to you so that you could wrap it. “I hope he’ll love it.” The boy added.

“He’ll definitely love it, I don’t see why he wouldn't.” You grabbed a piece of the gold gift wrap, and placed the gift on top of it. “The gold will go best with this, and it’ll also go with the theme, you know, like maybe an homage to the film ‘Goldfinger’.” As you wrapped the gift, you saw that Tom was watching your movements. He almost seemed entranced watching you wrap the gift up, his eyes wide. Even though your reference wasn’t totally correct, he half smiled anyway.

“I just realised, I completely forgot to get your name.” He looked up at your face, his brown eyes meeting yours. “I’m Tom.”

“Y/N.” You answered, giving him a small smile before resuming wrapping the gift. After a minute, the present was perfectly wrapped.

“Would you like a bow on it?” You asked, and Tom nodded his head yes.

“Yes please,” you reached underneath your workstation and pulled out a box of assorted ribbons.

“What colour?”

“Red for the gold packages, and gold ribbon for the red packages please.”

“Okay.” You held up a spool of velvet red ribbon, and he nodded his head in approval. You cut off a piece and wrapped it around the present, and finished it off with a bow.

“It’s beautiful, thank you Y/N.”

You looked up at Tom, who was beaming at you. “You’re welcome.”

The next gift you grabbed were the two matching jumpers that were folded loosely. Taking a second to fold them neater, you set them back on the table.

“Could you please wrap them in red paper?” He asked, and you hummed in agreement.

“Those are for my mum and dad, it’s been a tradition for me to buy them matching jumpers each year. It’s a funny story really.” He spoke, letting out a small laugh. “One year, I didn’t know what to get them, and the store I bought them at had a buy one get one free sale, and since that was the only design they had I bought two of them.” He smiled as he spoke, reminiscing about the memory.

As you wrapped the gifts, he told you who each present was for, as if you were familiar with the people he was describing. In a way, you were getting to know who each person was, the people who were near to his heart, without having met them. Hearing these stories made you feel close to Tom, even though you had just met.

“I bought the AirPods for my mate Tuwaine because he always steals mine.”

“Sounds like something my friend would do.” You joked, making him laugh at the comment.

“The cookbook is for my little brother Sam, since he loves to cook.” Tom stated, “He makes a mean shepherd’s pie, you should try it one day.”

You listened to him speak and tell stories of the person’s whose gift you were wrapping. Listening to him talk about his family made you feel less alone about the fact that your family was away this Christmas, only god knows where. You didn’t care though, you haven’t seen them since you were ten anyway.

“Can I try?” He asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. He was pointing to the red paper that was laying on the table. Pushing the gift wrap towards him, you watched as he wrapped, well more like attempted to wrap a present.

“It’s bloody awful, innut?” He asked, laughing while doing so. To put it nicely, it looked like a five year old did it, but it wasn’t the worst you’ve seen.

“I think it looks cute.” You said, “it’s the thought that counts.”

“You’re too nice.” He placed the present next to the other ones that you had perfectly wrapped. “Thank goodness I’m not the one working here, otherwise people would hate me and would demand a refund.”

“You’re just being too hard on yourself, it looks alright. Although it takes a lot of practice to get this good.” You playfully boasted, ending the sentence with a wink.

“Have you been doing this a long time?” He tilted his head up to look at you, and when his brown eyes met yours, you almost forgot what he has just asked you.

“Um, this is my second year doing this, but last year this location was in a mall, instead of here.”

“Ah, I see.” He answered softly. You were nearly done with wrapping his presents, and although you had just met this boy, you didn’t want this to end. Sure, he was keeping you late, but it’s not like you had somewhere else to be. You were intentionally wrapping the presents just a little bit slower than you usually do, not too much as to keep him later than he wanted to, but just enough to talk to him a little bit longer than you would’ve normally.

“That’s a vintage Polaroid camera.” Tom spoke up, pointing to the only present that was unwrapped. “My little brother Harry, who’s Sam’s twin by the way, loves photography. He’s been going on for ages saying that he wants this exact camera.”

You listened to Tom as you wrapped the box carefully, mentally cherishing the last few minutes you’ll get to spend with Tom.

From the sights of it, Tom was a lot calmer now that he’s spent the hour talking to you. When he first came in, he was beyond flustered, and his gaze was fixed to the clock on the wall. Now, he hasn’t looked at the clock since he first came in, almost as if he doesn’t have anywhere pressing to be.

When you finally finished, it was 5:54pm. As you gently placed the gifts into the brown paper bag that Tom had originally brought the gifts in, you quickly glanced up to see Tom looking back at you, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“Y/N, thank you so much for helping me out. Really, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here.” He placed his hand on the nape of his neck, rubbing it nervously. “And you finished in the nick of time, right before closing.”

Before you could stop yourself, your brows furrowed in confusion. You had forgot that you told him that you closed at 6 instead of 5, but you didn’t have to say anything, since your look of confusion gave you away.

“Don’t tell me, you were closed when I rushed in here.” He said remorsefully, as his hand played with one of the buttons on his coat. “Why didn’t you tell me I was keeping you late?”

You paused for a second to think of the best way to word what you wanted to say. “Well, I promise it wasn’t a problem. I don’t really have anywhere else to be anyway, and I could see just how badly you needed something good to happen today.” You shuffled over to where your jacket was hanging up, along with your bag. “I really wanted to help you out.”

Tom began to pull out his wallet when he asked, “how much will all this cost? I’m not very good at math, but looking at the prices-”

“It’s free.” You interjected.

“No, it’s not.” You watched as he pulled out a few £20 notes. “Would like 4 of these-”

You waved your hand in front of you. “Consider it my Christmas gift to you.”

“But-”

“Merry Christmas Tom.” You walked past him to close the shop up, closing the blinds and putting all the supplies away. When you finished, you carefully picked up the bag of Tom’s presents and handed it to him.

“You’re an angel, like my Christmas angel.” He stated. His eyes were soft as he looked at you, his pupils slightly dilated. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

You smiled softly at him. “It was no problem, now you should get going so you can be with your family.” You took a step over to the door, opening it for Tom and you to leave. The snow had let up a little bit, as it was now a small flurry. Tom stepped past you, standing as you locked the door behind you both.

“So,” Tom spoke up, “how are you going to get home?” There was some concern in his voice, and although he didn’t explicitly say it, you knew that he already cared about you.

“Oh, I’m just gonna walk home. I live about five minutes away from here.”

He turned his head to look over at you, his eyes searching your face to see if you were joking. When he realised that you were telling the truth, he shook his head. “I can’t let you walk home alone Y/N. It's cold, and dark out, and it’s dangerous for you to walk home alone.”

“I promise I’m fine, I’ve walked home alone from here many a time, it’s really just a short walk.”

“I can’t, not in good conscience at least. I want to walk you home.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Tom just shook his head. “I want to walk you home, I mean it.”

“I’ll be okay, you need to get home to be with your family tonight. I don’t have anyone to come home to.” When you said it out loud, you realised how depressing it sounded. At least I’ll be able to drink away my sorrows tonight, you thought.

Tom turned his head to look over at you, and then straight ahead. “I don’t feel good about you being alone on Christmas.” He was silent for a second, when suddenly a thought popped into his head. His heart began to race, and even though it was freezing out, his cheeks felt warm. “Why don’t you spend Christmas with me and my family tonight?”

You stopped walking, and placed your hand on top of his arm. When you saw his face turn red, you took your hand and placed it in your coat pocket. “Oh, no, no, no. I am not crashing your Christmas dinner.”

He let out a small laugh. “You wouldn’t be crashing it, darling. I invited you, there’s clearly a difference.”

You had to admit that him calling you darling made your heart race, you could get used to him saying that. “But your family won’t be expecting me, and what if your family gets mad because there’s not enough food for another person and-”

“It’ll be fine.” He took his free hand out of his coat pocket and grabbed your hand. “I already called an Uber and from the looks of it, I believe it’s already here.” He pointed to the car that was parked by the curb, the Uber logo visible in the window.

You stopped in your tracks again. “But I don’t know your family, what if you guys are like, I don’t know, murderers?”

Tom snorted out a laugh. “Trust me love, if I was a murderer, I would’ve killed you a long time ago. After all, it was just the two of us alone in the shop for a whole hour.” He was still holding your hand, shifting it so he could lace his fingers with yours. The two of you walked hand in hand towards the car, and when you were close enough, Tom opened the door for you. You buckled in the seatbelt, and a second later Tom was in the car doing the same.

“Merry Christmas Tom.” You looked up at him, smiling.

“Merry Christmas to you too Y/N.” He answered as he reached for your hand again, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Maybe this Christmas won’t be as terrible as the others, you thought. Maybe things will be alright, you thought as you looked out the car window.

additional a/n; chapter two will be posted next week on 11/27! 

series taglist + regular taglist: @scarletxwidow​ @fangirlwithasweettooth​ @lmaotshollandd​ @musicalkeys​ @calltothewild​ @finelinesupremacy​ @quaksonhehe​ @geminiparkers​ @thenoddingbunny-blog​  @imperfxctly-me @wunder-13 @weirdowithnobeardo

[vs-redemption]

hi there! could i request an aizawa x female reader oneshot? if you're willing to do angst, could it be him getting jealous when they go out for drinks with a group of friends :o

Ok, so I’m hoping this is angsty enough. I’m still getting used to writing in that style. Also, thank you so much for the request. I wasn’t sure about writing for Aizawa at first, but it was easier to get into his mindset than I thought it would be!

My requests are still open for anyone who is interested. Please check out my rules and masterlist!

A Big Deal:Part One (Jealous!Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

You can find Part Two of this story Here!

Today was kind of a big deal for you. After months of grueling effort and countless hours of overtime, you’d finally been acknowledged by your boss and given a huge promotion in your company. You’d been awarded a new title along with a generous pay raise, effective immediately. In addition to those perks, your new job responsibilities would allow you to finally use the degree you’d put yourself through college to obtain. It was really great news, and you were over the moon with excitement. A few of your colleagues suggested a night out to celebrate the career advancement. You were quick to agree. It was a Friday evening and you saw no reason not to make the most of this incredible day. You sent out a quick text message to invite your boyfriend and a few of your close friends to join in the festivities.

Today was kind of a big deal for Shota Aizawa too. He had always been a bit wary of relationships, both romantic and otherwise. He was a bit of an introvert and socializing often wore him down. He had a couple close friends that had forced their way into his life during high school and that had honestly been enough for him. He had been content to be mostly on his own until he met you and his outlook changed. You were hardworking, which he admired, and he’d noticed right away that you always gave him his space even though you were more outgoing than he was. You never forced him to attend big group outings or gave him a hard time when he was just too tired from work to do anything else besides get take out and have a quiet night in for date night. He appreciated the comfort and peacefulness you brought to his life, which is why he was actually quite excited that today was your one year anniversary together.

Aizawa wasn’t much for big extravagant gestures, but thought it might be nice to invite you over for a nice dinner when you finished work. He managed to get out of his teaching duties a little early so that he could pick up what he needed from the grocery store and get the cooking started. He had a nice evening with just the two of you in mind, so it came as a bit of a shock when he got your text message. He sighs and looks around his kitchen at all the half prepared food. Normally he would decline such an invitation, though he always appreciated you thinking to include him, but this was not a usual circumstance. He knew how hard you worked and was happy to hear that you were finally being recognized for everything you did. He takes out some containers and starts packing up the food, knowing he could always finish cooking it tomorrow.

The Izakaya restaurant where you were having your celebration was already packed with people since it was a Friday, but you’d somehow managed to book a decent sized table. The first round of drinks had been brought out and everyone was calling for you to make a speech. It wasn’t until they started bringing out the food that Aizawa finally arrived.

“Hey! Eraserhead!” Present Mic calls him over from the far end of the table. “You actually showed up! Come over here! I’ll order you a drink!” Aizawa glanced over at you but you were deep in conversation with two of your coworkers. He would have preferred to sit with you, but could settle for attaching himself to Mic since he didn’t know anyone else that well.

“Let’s have another round on me!” one of your coworkers calls to the wait staff. You laugh and nudge his arm with your shoulder.

“Idiot. We paid for ‘all-you-can-drink’!” You give him a teasing grin, “No matter what, we’re all going to be paying the same amount!”

“Aw, come on!” Another one of your male coworkers leans across the table, “You know we’re not letting you anywhere near tonight’s bill! You’ve been working so hard for this day, so let us treat you!”

“You make a good point,” You nod while lifting your glass. “And I’m not one to turn down free drinks!” They all laugh as the waiter disappears to go prepare another round for the table. Aizawa’s eyes linger on the two male coworkers for a moment before turning back to Present Mic.

“I guess she has a pretty good relationship with her coworkers,” he says flatly.

“Yeah! Definitely!” Present Mic declares with a wide grin, “I’ve met them a few times before. They’re fun dudes!”

“Hmm,” Aizawa found himself wondering if those guys knew you had a boyfriend. He trusted that there wasn’t anything deceitful going on, but it was weird for him to see you so open and relaxed around people who were strangers to him. He’d never really thought about what exactly happened when you were out at work parties. Perhaps this was normal. Still, he kept an eye on the people around you as the food and drinks continued to come.

“Shota,” you shuffle over to your boyfriend once last orders had been taken and the rambunctious group was kindly asked to leave the restaurant. “Thank you for coming! You usually don’t.” The words, though said with a lazy smile, struck Aizawa with a pang of guilt. You’d never forced him to go out, but perhaps you’d always wished he would.

“This was a special occasion,” he says while you both head out into the cool night air with everyone else. They were all mingling outside the restaurant, waiting to see what happened next. “You deserved that promotion, and I’m very proud of you.” He wanted to tell you that he’d also come to this party to spend time with you since it was your anniversary, but decided not to ruin your good mood by mentioning it. Perhaps he didn’t deserve to celebrate the milestone in your relationship anyway if letting you go out to these little get-togethers without him made him a bad boyfriend.

“Who’s up for Karaoke?” Present Mic throws his hands into the air, attracting the attention of other drunk groups meandering the streets nearby. A few people declined the offer, saying they needed to catch a taxi home, but a handful of others seemed enthusiastic about continuing the festivities of the night.

“Well we know you’re coming!” One of the coworkers from before slides up next to you and throws an arm around your shoulders. “This party is for you after all!”

“Of course!” You agree before turning to Aizawa. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I know it’s not your thing.”

Aizawa stared blankly at the arm around you that was not his own. He was tired from work, he hated parties, and a night of karaoke was literally his worst nightmare. Were the things he hated the same things that made you happy? It made him wonder why you were even dating him in the first place. Maybe there was a reason why you hadn’t mentioned your one year anniversary, and perhaps this relationship meant something different to each of you. Even if that was true, could he really let you go off to spend the rest of your one year anniversary with a bunch of other guys?

“Hey, come on!” another one of your coworkers comes over and playfully shoves you in the direction of the karaoke bar. “You’re burning moonlight! Don’t think you’re getting out of doing a duet with me like the last time!” You can’t help but giggle at his antics.

Aizawa glared at the men who could not seem to keep their hands to themselves. Part of him wanted to whip out his scarf and knock them on their asses, but another part of him envied their closeness with you. They got to see you all day, every day. Did they know you better than he did? It made him feel ashamed somehow.

“OK! Ok!” You swat your coworkers away so you could focus on your boyfriend. “No pressure, babe!” You tell him, “I won’t be mad if you want to get home and get to bed.” Aizawa was second guessing everything now. Normally he took your words as kindness and understanding, but now he was wondering if it was a dismissal. It made sense if you didn’t want him to come. There was no way he’d join in the singing so he’d just be dragging the mood down by coming and lurking in the corner. It was better for you if he stayed behind.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “I guess I’m going to call it a night.” He watches your face for signs that he’d made the right choice. Would you be happy that you were finally rid of him for the evening, or disappointed that he wasn’t as fun and outgoing as your coworkers? It was hard to judge your reaction.

“All right,” you tell him. “Go ahead and get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” You lean forward to give him a peck on the cheek before finally heading off towards your next stop of the night. Aizawa was left to watch you go off with a group of people he knew could make you happier than he ever could.

[krustywhore]

a language in itself // moreid

inspired by this doodle by @owlpip / @owlpipscribbles and i just had the cutest idea when i saw it so naturally i wrote this little one-shot<3 fig i hope you like it

Spencer, who was arguably not-so easily frazzled, was currently debating whether or not to lose his shit in front of all of his new coworkers. It was his first day at the BAU, for Christ’s sake, and he was seconds away from making a complete fool of himself in the middle of the bullpen.

With nearly a dozen books in his arms, the arm of his glasses held firmly between his teeth, and a to-go cup of black coffee balanced precariously on top of the stack, he was an accident waiting to happen. He passed interns and desk agents coming and going as he headed to where he was told to meet his new boss, but it was only a matter of time before his adamancy in taking only one trip from his car came back to bite him.

If he had known there was a thick bundle of computer cables wired under the carpeted bullpen floor, he would’ve made it to his new desk without a single problem, but his scuffed Chuck Taylor’s immediately caught the bump of wires and before he knew it books were tumbling to the ground and his full cup of coffee had emptied itself all over…a very attractive man.

Fuck.

His glasses were in his lap, thankfully unbroken, but he hastily put them on only for the blurry man above him to get somehow more handsome.

As if the situation couldn’t get any more humiliating, his face went bright red and he fumbled trying to collect everything off the floor.

“Hey, hey, slow down kid,” the man spoke, making Spencer freeze on his knees, looking back up. “You okay?”

He was certain his heart was seconds away from beating out of his chest.

“Me? I…I’m the one that just spilled hot coffee all over your shirt,” he laughed nervously, wanting to melt into the floor and disappear forever. “I’m so sorry-“

The man laughed and somehow even his teeth were perfect when he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it, pretty boy. One of the benefits of this job is carrying spare clothes around in case we end up skipping town,” the man smirked, picking up some of the scattered books and stacking them up on a nearby desk. “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Spencer shook his head, still blushing as he felt multiple sets of eyes on him from around the room. He just hoped none of them belonged to his new boss.

“Good, well, I’ll take these for you if you’ll show me where your desk is,” he offered, a dark coffee stain still clear as day in the middle of his navy blue shirt.

Spencer followed uncomfortably behind him before pointing to an empty desk in the corner of the bullpen opposite another desk with a fair spread of files and picture frames adorning it.

“No kidding,” the man chuckled, dropping the stack of books on the desk. “I guess we’re desk neighbors, pretty boy.”

Spencer choked, coughing until he regained his composure as his handsome apparent-coworker pounded on his back to help him.

“Thank you,” he choked out, his throat still groggy. “I…I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

The man’s casual smile dropped and he took on a serious look.

“What do you mean?”

Spencer fiddled with the buttons on his cuffs, thoroughly embarrassed enough for one lifetime.

“I mean that I just spilled coffee all over you and humiliated myself on my first day and…and I clearly don’t belong here if I can’t even make it an hour before causing a disaster, but you’re just so…so nice and historically, guys like you are never nice to guys like me, but you are! And…and I can’t possibly fit in here, I don’t know what Gideon was thinking-”

“Hold up, Jason Gideon? Holy shit, you’re the one he’s been telling us about!” He looked like he was completely gobsmacked, looking Spencer up and down multiple times to the point where the younger man was getting concerned.

“I guess so…?” He explained shyly. “Why, did he not tell you I was twenty-two?”

The other man rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down at his shoes.

“No, no it’s not that it’s...,” he paused, smiling as if he was nervous. “It’s just that I was going to ask you out before I knew we were would be working together.”

Spencer did a double-take and just…stared.

“You…w-what?”

His older counterpart smiled.

“I know it’s technically against the rules but…I would love to take you to get a replacement coffee sometime,” he smirked, leaning up against Spencer’s desk. “What do ya’ say, pretty boy?”

Reid definitely wasn’t any more prepared for the nickname than he was before, but somehow when it followed an invitation for a date, it felt more genuine.

Not that he had ever been asked out before, and especially not by anyone as attractive as the man in front of him.

“I-I don’t even know your name,” he mumbled, desperate for any excuse.

“Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan, at your service,” he grinned, reaching forward to grip the short length of necktie that poked out from underneath Spencer’s sweater vest. “And you are?”

His heart was beating so fast and his head was spinning so dizzyingly that he almost didn’t register the response until it hit him hard.

Derek Morgan.

Fuck, even his name was sexy.

He flushed bright red at the even closer contact and how closely their faces were. Surely Derek wouldn’t do anything in the middle of the office but…but something told him the other man didn’t much care.

“D-Dr. Spencer Reid,” he stumbled, barely getting the words out of his mouth in what was more of a breathy whisper. He nearly blocked out everyone else in the room as his eyes just latched onto Derek’s and refused to look away. “And…I would love to get coffee with you, but I’m paying. Since, you know, I probably just gave you at least a second-degree burn from the last one.”

The beautiful man—Derek, his brain supplied—laughed heartily, his deep brown eyes crinkling at the corners as he reluctantly let go of Spencer’s tie.

“You drive a hard bargain, Doc,” he teased, circling around to his desk only to pull out a small duffel bag from which he produced a light gray henley shirt. “How’s lunch today sound?”

Spencer smiled as the older man began walking backwards slowly, not looking away until he got his answer.

“You know where I’ll be,” he answered, pleasantly surprising himself with his own ability to be coy.

Derek shot him one last smirk before disappearing down the hallway and Spencer was left absolutely dumbfounded by the conversation he’d just had.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled under his breath, sliding off his satchel and depositing it on his desk chair before following the signs to where Agent Gideon’s office was located, as he had been instructed to stop by upon arrival.

His hands were shaking and his heart was still pounding and he was sure that Gideon was going to comment on how red he knew his face would still be, but he was practically floating on cloud nine as he sat down with his pseudo-mentor.

“Spencer, did something happen? You look…stressed,” the older profiler spoke as he stepped into the room. He shrugged in an attempt to be casual, not really wanting to discuss his romantic life with Gideon of all people. Especially when it involved someone they both worked with.

“No, nothing, I guess I’m just excited,” he lied through his teeth, hoping the man who studied behavior for a living and knew him like his own son couldn’t tell he was definitely blowing smoke.

“Right, well, if you’re ready now I can have JJ call the team in for the briefing and you can meet everyone,” Gideon explained and Spencer followed him out of the room and down the hall. He pulled out a chair around the large round table for the younger man to sit down and he moved to stand by a large screen to talk to a blonde woman who didn’t look too much older than he was. She smiled at him as she began pressing buttons on a remote and he gave a quick wave before the room filled with, what he assumed was the rest of the team. As he stood he immediately locked eyes with Derek again, who smirked and set down his files in front of the seat right beside Spencer’s.

“Alright, well as I told you all, this is Dr. Spencer Reid and he’ll be joining our team from now on. Spencer, this is Agent Hotchner, our unit chief, Elle Greenaway, Derek Morgan, our technical analyst Penelope Garcia, and our communications liaison Jennifer Jareau,” Gideon listed, despite the fact that they all could’ve introduced themselves, but he was met with a tight hug from Penelope before he could protest and awkwardly adjusted his clothing afterwards.

He smiled nonetheless and explained that he didn’t do handshakes to the rest of the team before they all filled up the seats around the table with Derek sitting so close that he couldn’t help but notice him in the corner of his eye.

“So, no handshakes?” The other man whispered in his ear as JJ passed around the folders of new case files to the team.

Spencer huffed a laugh under his breath.

“Well, I have a bit of an issue with germs. Did you know shaking hands can transfer over three thousand bacteria between parties? Scientifically speaking, it would be safer to kiss,” he rambled before freezing as he realized the implications of what he had just said.

“Oh, really? Strictly scientifically?” Derek teased, knocking their knees together under the table.

He knew Derek was looking at him but he felt a smirk creep onto his lips as he refused to give in and kept his eyes on the slides JJ was presenting.

“Strictly,” he smirked coyly.

As they all collected their things and took off on the jet, Spencer couldn’t help glancing up from his work every few minutes to sneak glances at Derek from across the plane. He was pleasantly surprised to find that Derek was almost always staring back. Seemingly none of the other team members noticed anything going on between them, or if they did, they graciously didn’t mention it.

It wasn’t long until they landed and made their way to the local police station, all expressing concern that the station’s coffee machine was broken until Derek spoke up before anyone could move on.

“Reid and I will go pick up some coffee and lunch for everyone, I think we passed a cafe just down the street. You go ahead and start here, we’ll be back in no time,” he offered, nudging Spencer with his elbow until the younger man followed him out the door and into one of the parked SUV’s. “So, does now work for you to take a quick coffee date?”

Spencer laughed, relaxing already as Derek pulled out of the parking lot.

“Now sounds perfect.”

[burnedbyshoto]

Who Do You Belong To?

Kinktober Day 6  ~ kink: brat taming

pairing: aizawa shouta x fem!reader

warning: smut, cursing

word count: 4,280

a/n: so.... this is for sure the longest full smut scene I’ve written. it ended up being 5 whole pages... I like it a lot, I think its one of my best ones to date!!!! but yeah anyways, who wouldnt want to be fucked to submission by aizawa????

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

There were often moments in life that made you reflect on the reasons why they happened.

It was currently nine at night, and you were still in the office working. Your stomach growled quietly again as your lips pressed together. Why the hell were you of all people getting kept here this long? You were a secretary, not a goddamn creator. Alas, it didn’t matter because your boss specifically asked you to stay, and you could not say no.

Well… you could say no, but you didn’t because you don’t think things out to the fullest extent. Your eyes trailed back to your boss who was currently placing papers into stacks. What seemed like his forever tired eyes were half opened as he did so.

His eyes snapped up to yours as if he could sense that you were staring at him. “Y/l/n-san,” He calls out, his voice husky from his lack of using it for the past five hours.

“Yes, Aizawa-sama?” You respond back, your cheeks tinting pink at getting caught looking at him.

“I’m sorry for keeping you in late, food is actually here if you’d like to go get it? We’ll eat and then we’re free to go?”

You nod your head in agreement, a grateful smile on your face as you stand up. “I hope it’s nothing from the cat cafe,” You tease as you begin walking away. Your heels clicking against the cold marble floors.

“That place has the best snacks, and you can’t deny that.” Aizawa chuckles as you roll your eyes, entering the elevator.

Best snacks your ass.

You went down many floors and saw a young man with a bag of food waiting outside the locked doors.

“For Aizawa?” The man asks, and you nod your head. Smiling as you took the bag from him and bid him a good night.

The bag was warm. It wasn't from the Cat Cafe seeing that it wasn’t inside of the outrageous pink bag they provided for takeouts. You went back to the elevator and went up the floors until you were back. You walk back over to Aizawa who seemed at the very least cleaning up.

“Dinners here!” You exclaim as you enter his office opening up the bag. You discover two salmon bowls from the one corner store you loved. Your jaw dropping as you feel grateful for him buying this. “Now I feel bad for making fun of you!”

Aizawa snorts as he grabs his own bowl, breaking his chopsticks before even taking off the lid. “You’re jealous that you can’t pet cats when you’re eating.”

“I may have enough cats at home to not want to go to some Cat Cafe and pay for what I can get at home for free!” You chortle as you take off the lid, sectioning off the salmon into smaller pieces before eating it.

“As do I, but you can never come across enough cats,” Aizawa smirks as you laugh.

“You’re cheating on your cats, that’s what I’m hearing?!”

“If you put it that way, yes. But I am only looking for more cats in my life, to increase my happiness.”

“Sounds like what a cheater would say.”

“Shut up, brat.”

You roll your eyes despite the smile plastered on your face. The two of you fall into silence as you finish eating your late-night dinner.

“I got it,” You say taking Aizawa’s empty bowl from him. “Finish cleaning up, I have a lot less than you do.”

With a grateful smile, you grin back as you take the trash and deposit it into a trash can with a lid. Returning back to your desk, you gathered the papers into neat piles. Putting some into labeled manilla folders before grabbing them. You begin heading back into Aizawa’s office.

“These are the ones that you’re taking home, and this is the one you’re keeping here.” You present the papers and folders to Aizawa who nods.

“What would I do without you?” He asks as you snort.

“Hire another secretary who is only half as amazing as me?”

“True.”

You stared at the three boxes of folders. Aizawa was going to need to take back home with him, and your eyebrows scrunch slightly. “Do you need me to help you take them to your car?” You ask as you know exactly how heavy just one of them is.

“If you wouldn’t mind?”

You stare at the black-haired man and smile at him. Through appearances alone, you would never say he was a CEO of anything. Sure he wore nice suits! But his hair was longer, and his cheeks were almost always stubbly and patchy.

“I’ll help you take them in, too.” You decide. Aizawa’s eyebrows scrunching at your declaration. You can see him piecing together what you meant by that. “I’ll follow you home!”

“Y/l/n—“

“Oh hush, you're on my route anyway!” You exclaim as you grab a box, turning on your heel and walking out. Uncaring for his protests as he catches up to you.

“You know, I liked you better when we first met and all you were was obedient,” Aizawa mumbles as you enter the elevator and smash the garage floor.

“Well, you were intimidating and knew my job better than me! But now you’re simply my boss who doesn’t know how to take care of himself!” You laugh as Aizawa shakes his head in denial. “You said to me, and I quote, ‘I don’t think you’ll last here very long’.”

“I did not!”

“YOU DID TOO! Oh my god, it took everything within me not to cry!”

You smile broadly as his eye roll, and you slip out past him with your head high as the elevator doors open.

“You know I can take multiple trips to and from the car when I get back.” Aizawa insists as he opens your car door for you to let you place in the box.

“Don’t be crazy!” You retort, your hands placing in the box with ease and shutting the door. You walked over to Aizawa’s car and helped him open his own car. You watch as Aizawa places the boxes in, and your eyes lock on his ass as he stretches while he secures everything.

Your eyes widen.

Nope.

Nope.

No!

Aizawa Shouta was an amazing boss! Don’t get it wrong, but you were not going to be some cliche secretary screwing your boss! Besides, you didn’t even know if he had a wife, fiancee, girlfriend or not?!

“Y/l/n-san.” His voice calls to you, breaking you free from your internal panic.

“Y-Yes??”

“You can close the door now? Let’s get going, it’s late as it is.”

“We don’t work tomorrow though, I can stay up.” You mutter, your cheeks flushed as you close the door and scurry to your car. You get in before he can say anything else, and you start up your engine as you wait for him to move.

It takes less than twenty minutes, but finally, you’re pulling into his driveway. You step out of your car and go to the other side to retrieve the box. Your eyes locking on Aizawa who was holding his own two boxes.

“You good?” He asks, and your head nods. It’s too quick to be normal, but he doesn’t ask as he turns down to the entryway. Unlocking the door with ease and letting you in.

His house is surprisingly very neat, it’s organized, and has a modern theme to it that you find to be breathtaking. “You have an amazing house…” You say in awe, as you kick off your heels and put on slippers that weren’t his own.

“I had someone else set it up for me,” Aizawa admits with a shrug. “It is quite amazing though.”

You laugh as you nod, your eyes turning to the heavy box in your hands.

“Where do you want me to put this?” You ask lifting up the box for further emphasis.

“My office space would be nice,” Aizawa says, nodding his head in the direction of where he wanted you to go.

“Lead the way!” You chirp and he sighs, but he gets in front of you and walks towards his office.

You walk into a room that was most definitely an office space, with a large computer, desk, files, and books. It was a honest to god office. Aizawa places his two boxes down, and once again your eyes locked on his ass. You bite down harshly onto your lip as he moves to the side. If only you could get him to fuck you. But Aizawa was a man by the rules, you knew better than to assume he would ever have his way with you. Not while you were ever his employee.

“Go ahead and place it on the floor.” Aizawa nods and you sigh, doing as commanded. You place the box down was a soft thud, adjusting it so that it would lay perfectly parallel to the other boxes. You grunt softly as it’s a bit heavy to slide against the carpet. Satisfied with its placement, your body stiffens as something warm presses into you.

You stand straight up, and your body's pressed against another warm body. Hot breathes of air hitting your neck as the feeling of prickly stubble brushes your ear. “A-Aizawa-sama?” You squeak as you feel his warm hands settle onto your waist, and a lush moan escapes your lips.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist anymore.” He pants against your ear. You can’t believe this is happening. “Is this something you want?”

You nod your head quickly, not trusting your voice at all as your hips move against his pelvis. You relish in his low growl, and you grasp the fabric of his pants, keeping him close to you. “I need you to say it to me, sweetheart.” He growls as he begins to grind his pelvis into your ass, and you laugh.

“I don’t feel like it.”

Aizawa turns you around, his dark eyes blazing into your own, and you smirk. He just had no idea what he was getting himself into.

His lips burn against yours, and your hands find solace in his hair. His lips are demanding, rough, and full of purpose. He groans against your mouth as you give his hair a particularly hard tug. His fingers are gripping your waist tightly. Aizawa's grip is strong enough you believe there’s a possibility that you’ll have bruises from it. You shudder softly as his tongue pressed against your bottom lip, his way of asking for you to open up. But you refuse.

Your lips remain closed as you continue kissing him. You're smirking softly as you can feel his irritation at your disobedience. “I’m going to warn you just this once,” Aizawa speaks against your lips, and he pulls away. Your eyes fluttering open to see his eyes locked on you, annoyed, furious, and yet turned on. “I don’t like it when my kitten is disobedient. “

You let out a sound that could only be close to a purr as your nose brushes against his own. “And I love it when I drive men crazy, it looks like we’re in a disagreement, ne?”

Aizawa’s nostrils flare and his lips come to crash against yours. But you’re two steps ahead and smile when his lips press against your cheeks. “It seems to me that you’re wanting to be a brat,” Aizawa growls as his hands travel up to your breasts, groping them without mercy as you gasp. Your body arching into his chest. “Do you wanna know what I do to brats?” Aizawa mutters in your ear, and your head lolls to the side.

“Let them have their way?” You tease as your hands roam his chest, the feeling of his muscles under his shirt quickly turning you more on.

“I punish them.” Aizawa snaps, his fingers freezing over your breasts.

Your eyebrows scrunch, not at all liking the lack of movement on your breasts. You, however, have no time to complain as you’re tossed over his shoulder. Your shrieks filling the room as he walks away. His hand stays on your ass you try figuring out where he is. You weren’t able to see anything but the floor and his ass.

“Stop squirming.” Aizawa snaps, his fingers pinching the back of your leg and you let out a moan. Why did that feel so good? You gasp as your body gets thrown onto a bed, your hands flying out to stabilize yourself. “Now, let me ask you this. Are you going to behave, or are you going to continue being bratty.” His eyes shine with lust and need. At this moment you don’t know which response would be better, but you did want him losing control. You wanted to see Aizawa pound you into the mattress like no tomorrow.

Your lips lock onto his, your mouth pressing against his like there was no tomorrow. You crawl onto his awaiting lap and sigh when you brush against his growing arousal. You sigh as his tongue pressed against your bottom lip once again, but the smirk on your face makes him pull away.

A sigh leaves his lips as he shakes his head, “I was hoping we could do this the easy way, y/l/n…”

Before you could question those words, you’re thrown onto his lap. Your stomach pressing onto his legs in a very uncomfortable way, it almost hurt to breathe fully. You shifted in an attempt to look at him, but his hand shoved your head back down. His other hand raising your skirt well above your ass.

“Were you expecting to get fucked tonight?” He asks you, and you shudder at his light touches. His fingers gently touching the panties you wore.

“Yes.” You snap, waves of pleasure flowing through your veins as his finger rubs down your slit. Your arousal beginning to seep its way through your folds.

“You’re such a naughty girl,” Aizawa tuts, his finger curling into your heat, and a lewd moan escape your lips. “Do you want to know what I do to naughty girls?”

“Let them have their w-way?” Your voice hitches as he shoves two more fingers into your heated cunt. A sharp intake of breath leaving your lips as he thrusts them in forward and backward. Pained gasps echoed in the room as his fingers leave you without warning.

“I spank them,” Aizawa growls and you can feel his heated palm rest against your bare ass. “You’re going to count for me every single time I spank you okay, kitten?” He asks as his hand rubs a warm circle into your ass. “I want to hear you thank me with every hit, too.”

Before you can retort, his hand comes to spank you hard. The slapping sound echoing as you shudder. Your ass stung from the single hit, but your bit down on your lip defiantly. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your submission.

“What did I fucking tell you to do?” He growls, his hand yanking on your hair.

“Sorry, do you consider that a spank?” You snarl slightly, a cunning smirk on your face as you glance at his infuriated face.

You don’t have time to relish in this situation, however. You feel your body getting shifted further down. Your face almost pressing into the floor as his hands kept your secured against his lap.

“Now, I expect you to fucking count, and say thank you, daddy.”

Your breathing is unstable as his hand now rubs where your cunt and ass are, and his hand comes down hard. You cry out the second his hand slaps against your skin, your body shaking at the impact.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” Aizawa growls, and his hand comes down for another hard spank. You scream at the pain-filled pleasure of his smack.

“One!” Your sob is quiet, your ass moving to relieve the stinging pain. “Thank you, daddy.”

“Ah so now you’re not being a brat,” Aizawa growls as his hand comes down again.

“T-Two!” You moan, your face flushed in embarrassment and undeniable lust. “Thank you, daddy!”

His heavy hand comes down on you again, and again, and again. Until you’re a quivering mess underneath him. Until your ass raw and red from this punishment. Until your voice is almost hoarse from your loud screams and moans.

You shake against his thighs, your body weak, and your arousal high.

“Get up,” Aizawa commands, and you follow his order without much resistance. You scrunch your face slightly at the pain that shoots through your body. He did not hold back. “Did that turn you on?” He asks as you quiver in front of him.

He may have just thoroughly abused your ass. It seemed, however, that your fighting spirit still remained.

“N-No.” You stammer, your eyes locked onto his own. His eyebrow cocked slightly as he stood up off the bed, his hands moving to get his belt off.

“Get on your knees,” Aizawa commands, and you still. You don’t listen, choosing to instead glare into his eyes. His hands grip your face, and it takes all your mental strength not to moan at his ferocity. “Who do you think you’re talking to, kitten? Who do you belong to, right now?” He growls as his fingers hold tightly onto your face.

“I don’t know.” You moan as your hands move to sit onto his chest.

His eyes swim in yours, a cold smirk flashing across his face, “I guess I’ll just have to fucking teach you again.”

As if by magic, you’re on your knees. Your shirt removed from your body, and Aizawa lets his pants fall off his waist and onto the floor. You watch with hungry eyes as he strokes his cock in his hands, his teeth grinding as he does so. Licking your lips in anticipation, you get closer to him. Your mouth wanting more than to envelope his long and thick cock into your mouth.

His eyes snap over to you, no longer focused on his cock, and you freeze. Once more pretending not to be at all interested. “Open up, kitten.” He commands, tracing the head of his cock against your lips. Precum slathering against your skin.

Still, you stare at him, unwilling to budge for him, unwilling to open up. His eyes narrow as he glares at you, “You’re such a fucking brat.” He hisses, and he reaches down, pinching your nipple through your bra with ease. Your mouth drops into a moan, and he shoves his length into your mouth without hesitation. “Shit,” He hisses as his hips snap into your mouth.

You gag as he hits the back of your throat at full force. Tears springing into your eyes as you try adjusting to having his length feel bearable in your mouth. You grasp the back of his legs as you open your mouth further, his hips snapping into your mouth with no mercy.

His hair pulling at your hair as he grunts, “Look at me, I want you to look at me.” He growls as you. “Don’t you dare look away.”

The simple command sends pressure through your body. The liquid heat of your arousal soaking through your panties.

You moan around his dick, his hips relentless in their conquest. Your eyes can barely keep themselves locked on Aizawa’s as he fucks your face. “You’re so pretty when you’re choking on my cock, kitten.” Aizawa groans as dick spams within your mouth, and you choke around him. Fire erupting in your lungs from the lack of oxygen, but it feels so good.

You felt the head of his manhood hit the back of your throat as you pulled away despite his grip on your hair. You gasp for breath before going back onto his cock, once more gagging on his length. You repeated the action, feeling Aizawa hit the back of your throat as you sucked his dick. Your fingers shooting forward to play with his balls, fondling them as he curses your name.

It’s your first name this time that escapes his lips, and it sends a spine chilling sensation down your body. You hum as your mouth sinks all the way down his length until your lips brush against the base of his cock.

A feral sound releases from his mouth as he pulls you off his dick, and gets you up onto your feet. “Strip.” He snarls as he moves to take off the rest of your clothes, and you nod dumbly. You wanted him to come in your mouth, but he took that away from you.

His eyes lock over you. Your fingers slow in taking off your bra. Your skirt still bunched around your waist. Aizawa wastes no time in helping you get your skirt off, letting it pool to the ground, and he drops your panties onto it.

He tosses you on the bed, and you giggle slightly as your head is near the footboard. A grin on your face as he comes over to press a kiss to your mouth. His lips are far more gentle than he’s been all night. The sensations making you sigh against his mouth as his tongue slips between your lips.

Your tongue dances around his, avoiding it at all costs much to his annoyance, but you’re smiling. “Even when you barely have energy, you’re still being bratty, kitten,” Aizawa mutters against your lips, his mouth trailing down your neck and you sigh.

“I can’t let my daddy just win,” You moan as his fingers tease your clit, your body arching off the bed.

“Turn around,” Aizawa groans as he shoves your body onto your stomach, you gasp as he shoves your ass into the air. “God, you ass looks so pretty up in the air for me.” He moans, pressing delicate kisses to your skin.

You mewl as you feel his cock tease your entrance. You snap your head around when you feel his weight far closer to you than you would have believed it to be. “You better hold on, kitten,” Aizawa growls as he holds one hand onto the footboard, and one on his cock. “I’m not going to be easy on you, you were a naughty kitten tonight.”

Before you could ask why his feet were getting planted by your hips, his cock rams into your dripping cunt. A shriek ripping from your throat as he pounds into you. Your hand shooting out to hold onto the footboard centimeters from his own hand.

“SHOUTA!” You shriek as he ruthlessly slams into you. His hips coming down so fast your body moves with every thrust. Your moans tumble out of your throat as the bed is quick to move with your movements. It squeaks are loud in your ear alongside his insistent pounding.

“What’s that, kitten?” He growls, his hips hammering into you at mind fogging speed. “What’s my fucking name?!”

“Daddy!” You scream as your pussy throbs around his pounding cock. You’re unable to even throwback your hips in rhythm with him. You were stuck to the mattress, only able to feel his cock entering you at toe-curling speeds. “Oh my god, FUCK you feel so good!”

“You take my cock so well!” Aizawa grunts as he releases one hand from the frame and runs it down your back to press against your clit. Your head throws back, your back arching further into the bed as you scream again. Your pussy clenching with no remorse around his dick. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Do you want to come now, kitten?”

You can only nod your head as the pressure continues to build and build.

“I need to hear your words.”

“Fuck me, daddy, please I need to come so badly!” You sob out as your body trembles under his thrusting, you’re so close you’re seeing stars.

“I knew you would fucking submit.” He growls as his hand slams near you, his hand moving to pinch both your clit and nipple.

That’s all it takes and you come hard around his dick, his name ripping through your abused body as he moans. His knees falling to the mattress as he continues pummeling into you. Chasing after his own orgasm now.

You pant harshly as you move your hips against his own. Your pussy still clenching around his throbbing dick. You hear him expel a wavering sigh, and you can feel him come within you. The heated fluid filling you up as he collapses onto the bed. You moan as you push yourself off the mattress, staring at Aizawa who leaned up to pull you into his body.

The two of you laying there. Your sweat-soaked skin pressed into each other as silence overcomes the room.

“You know, I don’t see why I needed to go to your office to play out this scenario.” You moan as you shift over to grab the rings off your nightstand, slipping them onto both of your fingers. “We could’ve just done it in your home office just as easily.”

“I needed help though, and you had the day off.” Aizawa smiles into your neck, his face nuzzling in closer.

“And you say I’m the brat!” You scoff as your fingers play with his hair and he nods.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you were perfect.” You whisper as you press a kiss to his forehead.

“Okay…” He whispers as he sits up, “Do you need anything, my love?”

“A wipe would be nice.” You sigh as he presses a kiss to your lips.

“One wipe, coming up.”