#I feel that his ending was perfect for him because we do eventually see him ‘triumph’; keeping the light alive and rising from the wreckage

[spotsandsocks]

Tease Tidbit Tuesday 💔

Tagged by @rainbow-nerdss @wikiangela @bidisasterevankinard @tizniz

Ok the tease is my title for the first chapt of the Demi Eddie fic I’m writing. Decided to just throw chapt one out there on a random Tuesday! It feels like ages since I’ve put anything out so I just wanted to!! It may not be perfect but my eyes are tied and I can’t edit anymore!

I’m rather pleased with the angsty title 😂

It’s called

How can we dance when I silenced the song 1/4 2.6k

Buck’s bisexual but that won’t make any difference to how Eddie feels about his best friend , not one bit, not at all. How could it, it’s Buck, and Eddie already knows he loves him, will love him always. What it will do apparently, is force you to open your eyes to the fact that those feelings, that love, isn’t exactly what you thought it was, because you can run and you can hide and you can lie to yourself for a very long time but eventually, if you’re lucky you can learn enough new things to finally hear the truth and then maybe you can dance to the song you’ve been ignoring all your life.

Chapt 1 is angsty but we’re heading to a happy buddie ending 😘

Tagging to share today or Wednesday whatever day it is with you when you see this 🩷

@monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @the-likesofus @hoodie-buck @loserdiaz

@bi-buckrights @rogerzsteven @bekkachaos @thekristen999 @ronordmann

@hippolotamus @spaceprincessem @underwaterninja13 @wildlife4life @stagefoureddiediaz

@thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @giddyupbuck

@honestlydarkprincess @elvensorceress @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990

@diazsdimples @steadfastsaturnsrings @lover-of-mine @fortheloveofbuddie @watchyourbuck

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie wip #buddie fic #911 fic #demisexual #demisexual eddie diaz #911fic #911 abc #bisexual buck

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Hii please can you do something fluff like dad! Lando or daniel i don't really have anything in my mind just do it as you like please.

Where’s Mama? - Daniel Ricciardo

Short but i actually thought this was super cute

“Da, where’s mama?” Reggie asks looking up at his dad with those same honey coloured eyes that Y/n always says she’s so happy their child inherited.

“Mama is here somewhere. Is she…hiding again?” Daniel smiles knowing that y/n will often start games of hide and seek with Reggie and Reggie always needs a bit of help because the woman doesn’t go easy on him.

A competitive spirit is inherited from both parents but Reggie will also ask for help without shame which neither of them are mad about since he’s only 2.

Daniel picks Reggie up and places him up on his shoulders to carry him around the house. It doesn’t actually take them long to find her at all.

Y/n is soundly asleep curled up on her and Daniel’s bed. Presumably there wasn’t a game along hide and seek but actually Reggie woke up from his own nap and went looking for her but instead found his dad back from training.

“Mama is asleep. I think we should go out to the park and then we can come back and see her later.” Daniel states knowing that y/n is home alone with Reggie when they aren’t travelling to be there with Daniel at races.

When he’s home he tries to make sure he’s actively being a parent and taking duties off of y/n’s shoulders for a bit. He credits her entirely for them having such a perfect child, though he likes to say the laugh comes from him. Reggie and Daniel have an identical laugh.

The two leave y/n to rest. Though both manage to kiss her without waking her before they leave.

-

Despite managing to keep Reggie busy for maybe half an hour. Daniel ended up caving into going back home because the kid wants his mum. But Daniel can’t even be mad because actually he wants to see y/n too.

So they head back and find she’s still very much in the depth of sleep.

“Do you want to nap with mama?” Daniel asks as he holds Reggie in his arms. There’s a chance the toddler will say no.

“Yeah. Da nap too.” Reggie commands finally making Daniel feel a little wanted.

The two of them climb on the bed, Daniel placing Reggie between himself and y/n’s bodies as he finally sees her shifting and stirring from her sleep.

“What’s-“

“Shhh…Family nap time. Just go back to sleep.” Daniel soothes while she frowns for a moment before realising Reggie is already laid between them, his big brown eyes gazing at her accompanied by a toothy grin.

“Sleep mama. Nap time.” Reggie whispers moving to hug the woman before rolling so his back is pressed to her front. “Da, closer.”

So that’s how they end up all cuddled up. Sleeping all in a midday nap.

Eventually y/n and Daniel get up before Reggie is awake and since they know the kid sleeps like it’s a hobby, they don’t care about it possibly disturbing his sleep through the night.

“Mmm finally get you to myself.” Daniel grins as they walk into the kitchen.

“You had me to yourself last night…and this morning and I think both of those occasions are why i’m so tired.” Y/n laughs before squeaking when he picks her up and lands her on the counter.

“You said you wanted another baby.”

“I do. I mean we are doing an amazing job with the first. Plus I hear the second is always a little more rogue.”

“Are you sure you can handle that?” Daniel asks, slightly more softly since Y/n is left with Reggie more than he likes to admit.

“You are parent to him more than you give yourself credit. I’m not here living like a single mum to Reggie and I don’t believe you’d change that by having a second baby.” Y/n smiles as she gently cups Daniel’s face. “We can hold off if you’d rather wait. I’m just happy that we’ve started our little family.”

“Reggie might get jealous.”

“Reggie? You mean you’d have to deal with me not dividing up time and attention between only you and Reggie but another person…you know it goes both ways. I miss your attention sometimes too. I already had to compete with F1, and now our adorable son is more successful at getting your attention that I am.”

“Oh so sounds like I’ve got improvements to make.” Daniel comments leaning in to kiss her. “Well you have all my attention right now. Plus i was thinking, my parents love having Reggie. Maybe a grandparents weekend would be a nice getaway for Reg and then we get every ounce of each others time and attention. No disturbances.”

“That. Is a brilliant idea. Let’s do it.” Y/n nods kissing him again. “I hope Reggie inherits yours brains as well as your eye colour.”

“So long as he keeps everything else from you. Or maybe the next one will be a little y/n carbon copy. Even if i’m not sure this family could handle two of you.”

“I mean I am pretty amazing.”

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel riccardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo one shot #daniel ricciardo #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fic #dr3 fluff #dr3 x reader #dr3 imagine #dr3 #dr3 one shot #dr3 x you #dr3 x y/n #dr3 fanfic #dr3 fic #alphatauri #redbull racing #formula one #red bull f1 #alpha tauri #racing bulls

[ooffmlsorry]

OP Men When You're Injured

Context: I don't mean mortally injured, I'm talking something not too serious that kind of inhibits your movement like a broken bone or recovery from a surgery

Law, Kid, Ace, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji

Law

A/N: can we get a little commotion for this gif tho?? Why is he so perfect?? 😭

Law as a doctor is perfectly normal about your injury. He knows with some rest and eventual rehabilitation you'll be just fine. No big deal.

He makes sure you're healing well and comfortable, like he would with any patient

Law as your boyfriend is different.

In the case of an injury with no risk of infection, he'll press a kiss to it. Yes, like he's kissing your boo-boo 🥹

Law does not leave your side. He is your shadow. Where you go, he's right beside you or at the very least in the same room as you.

At first he deadass tries to convince you he's not lingering at all and he's the same as he always is.

But you both know he's lying. He practically moves his office wherever you decide to be for the day.

He can't help himself. What if you fall? What if you reinjure yourself? He's so pressed about the worst case scenarios, and given his past, can you blame him?

He quietly grumbles and pouts about his own "irrational" behavior because he knows in reality you can absolutely go about your day. You're a little slower but you're fine. But he just can't let you. As soon as you start to struggle, he's right beside you offering to help.

If you're aggravated by his hovering, he's twice as annoyed by it. He's literally so frustrated with himself lmao, you might end up having to comfort him instead.

Even if he complains (is it really complaining if he's actually happy lol) you're happy because all this extra time around you makes him extra affectionate. Law snuggles close to you, justifying his closeness by explaining how physical affection can lower cortisol levels.

KID

Oh Kid smh 😔he has no idea how to treat you so he just decides to behave like everything's normal lmao

Legitimately though, even if a inanimate object is what caused your injury, he's destroying it. Just out of pure fury that you were hurt.

He'll huff when you fall behind or have trouble doing something, but he just can't leave you to suffer

He's a man of action lol so he'll probably end up doing things for you just for efficiency sake. You're walking too slow? He picks you up. Can't grab or hold something? He'll do the whole thing for you and next time you try to do the same thing you find he's made something to make it a lot easier for you while you heal.

Anything you need to assist you he'll happily build.

If you have a cast or anything like that, he's gonna draw all over it (honestly, the whole crew will. You're gonna have the most bad ass cast ever)

He absolutely calls you a baby for wincing or complaining. He doesn't mean it...mostly.

If he's not keeping an eye on you than Killer is.

It's not like he's worried or anything! Fuck you for saying that!! He just doesn't want to hear or see you whining and complaining. It's annoying. Okay, sure Kid.

He genuinely hate seeing you in pain though, even if it's just wincing it reminds him of losing his arm and he never wants you to experience anything close to that.

ACE

Ace is your little emotional support boyfriend...or maybe it's the other way around 🤭.

He'll curl up at your side while you recuperate and completely dozes off.

He takes looking after you very seriously and asks Marco lots of questions, even if there's not a whole lot he can do.

He doesn't pity you, but he does feel really bad. Even if it was just an accident, he hates seeing you limited in any way.

He might accidentally treat you like you're made of glass.

It's just because he cares a lot, and he really doesn't want anything else to happen to you.

Every single morning he wakes up and asks how you're feeling or if you're in any pain.

There's a lot of people on the Moby Dick and accidents happen all the time, so don't be surprised when he literally clears a way for you to traverse around the ship.

I'm not saying he's impatient buuuut he will definitely glare at whatever part of you is injured and say, "Jeez, can you heal up already?"

He gives you space, but only if you ask for it. He just doesn't want you to feel like you're ever in this alone.

LUFFY

Luffy is neither patient nor gentle lol but he's extremely loyal

He'll goof off and continue to go on adventures, but he's not gone for long

Even his crew is surprised when tells them he's not going to get distracted because he knows you're back on the Sunny waiting for them.

He's always bringing cool things back to you since you can't do as much as you usually can. Just because you can't be right beside him doesn't mean you have to miss everything.

God bless him he's gonna try to bring you some meat so you'll heal faster 🤭.

He'll absolutely forget you're injured at some point and probably tackle hug you.

The last thing he'll let you do is stay cooped up in bed unless Chopper insists that you have to. Even if you need to rest you can do it right next to him on the head of the Sunny, right?

Exactly like Ace he's going to frown at whatever part of you is injured and say, "Jeez, can you heal up already?!"

He gets whatever you need and probably overdoes it. Need a glass of water? He just straight up brings you the whole barrel.

More is better! Besides, you need to hurry up and get better!

ZORO

He's not worried. He's so chill about it, actually. ...Until you start to move around.

The way he switches up is laugh worthy. He goes from nonchalant to overprotective in an instant.

He practically holds his breath as you make your way around the Sunny, watching you like a hawk.

Admittedly, he does tease you a little. He'll grab things for you, but hold them out of your reach or call you a little turtle if you move slower. He thinks it's very cute hehe.

For better or for worse, Zoro's not a hypocrite. He won't hound you to take it easy if you think you're up to a task. Even if Chopper really wishes he would.

He still won't leave you though, unless you're resting and stationary, he's by your side.

Zoro is your attack dog boyfriend. There's no way anyone (*ahem* Luffy) is fooling around too close to you. There's not going to be a chance you could get hurt more or reinjured.

When you're alone he checks in with you to make sure you're okay, not because he's shy about being soft in front of people but more so to protect your privacy.

He kind of likes doing extra things for you, he won't say it out loud but it makes him really happy when he can do things while you recover. He considers taking care of someone he loves to be such an honor.

SANJI

Unless whatever injured you is vitally important (e.g. the Sunny), he's kicking the shit out of it on principle because how dare anything even dare to hurt you lmao

Are you surprised that he dotes on you hand and foot? You shouldn't be.

I think it also goes without saying he is cooking you best meals.

They're gonna have to tie him down when it comes time for your rehabilitation because he wants to do everything for you.

He's such a sweet heart! He leaves you little messages like "you're doing great!" and "I love you!"

Literally this man lives with you on the ship and he still got you flowers, a get well card, and a little stuffed animal like he's not going to see you every single day

He loves carrying you (as long as it's Chopper approved). He's beaming down the sunny with you in his arms.

He makes the cutest little picnics so you can eat comfortably

Sanji's also an emotional support boyfriend lol. In between cooking for the crew and other duties, he's curled up right next to.

He might coddle you a little too much but it's just because he loves you so so so much

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #law x reader #one piece #one piece x reader headcanon #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #kid x reader #ace x reader #roronoa zoro #portgas d ac #trafalgar law

[zriasstuff]

Them watching you get ready <3

Slytherin boys x reader fluff headcanons (warning:delulu asf)

the collage isn’t the best, but at least you have all 6 faces now

It’s date-night, but you seem to be taking quite some time to get ready…

Tom Riddle:

Let’s be honest for a second and admit that if you were taking your sweet sweet time, he’d curse at you because everything has to go according to his schedule (i even doubt that he’d do the whole “date-night” thing, but that’s a separate issue)

He’d turn more impatient by the second and barge into your dorm/bathroom without knocking

Tom would rush you so badly and keep telling you to hurry up while rolling his eyes

While you’re doing your makeup he’d pick up each product with disgust and tell you that you look just fine

When you tell him that you need more time, he tells you that there wouldn’t be a date anymore if you didn’t follow him, besides he’d lecture you on your poor time management

Eventually he drags you out with him and dryly compliments you like “see, i told you you look good” (but innerly he enjoyed that you put in effort and wanted to look good for him, even if it took some time)

Mattheo Riddle:

He wouldn’t rush you when you tell him you need more time, instead he’d take advantage of watching you get ready

When you choose your clothes, he’d encourage you to do a little fashion show for him and he would tell you that you looked perfect in every single one

He would tell you to choose a short and tight dress though, we all know why ;)

During make-up he is totally one of those guys who say “it’s all the same shade”, and in reality it’s like maroon and bright red

As a joke he’d also apply some of the products, but wipe them off immediately because he feels too emasculated

When you ask him if you could do make-up on him some day he’d simply reply “sure, but then i would get to do whatever i want with you”

Draco Malfoy:

When you offer him to watch you get ready, since you still aren’t done, he immediately accepts

Draco totally loves seeing you get ready too because during your relationship he has spoiled you so much that half your closet/vanity is basically from him

Since he grew up close to his mother, he has actually spent a lot of time in his childhood going to barbers/salons/boutiques with her

So from that he has gained excellent taste, even helps you with styling your hair, and helps you pick out accessories

He knows how long this stuff can take, so he just takes the time to make you feel beautiful and confident, showering you with compliments and pecks “you look so good in the things i buy you darling”/“you are always so gorgeous and sexy”

Theodore Nott:

He wouldn’t mind that you were not on time, the date started the second he saw you, so you getting ready was just time that you could spend together too

You are afraid it takes away the surprise factor at first, but it’s not a big deal to him

When you start to change into different outfits, he’s always there to help you undress/unzip the dresses, taking the opportunity to smoothly move his hands down your body

That would just eventually turn into a makeout session though, you just couldn’t resist when he was being that touchy and ravishing too

It takes quite some time for you to actually get ready in the end because he always distracts you in the process, but in the end you would both have had a fun time

Blaise Zabini:

He’d be quite chill and sit on your bed when you tell him to wait, just watching you get ready at your vanity

He would maybe be a little bit annoying—asking you every three seconds if you were ready to go, and he would say “you literally look the same as always, what’s the point of all this”

Eventually he liked watching you more and more though, notice the difference, and carefully pay attention to everything you did

He’d learn to appreciate both your natural and “full-glam” beauty and just observe you with interest

As soon as you were done he’d immediately kiss you (ruining your lip-combo sadly) and his lips would be stained, and he’d be smiling, fascinated by your beauty

Lorenzo Berkshire:

When you tell him to wait outside, he’d respect that at first, but would grow impatient eventually

So, he goes up to you and tells you that he would like to be a part of the process

Opposite to Mattheo, he’d actually be down to you putting make-up on his face for fun (he’s fully convinced that he could pull anyone with or without makeup)

To be honest, he didn’t care much about what you put on because you looked hot in his eyes either way, but he knew the more interested he acted the more appreciative you’d be

Looking at you with puppy-eyes at all times is his specialty, and when you’re finally done he looks at you like you’re an angel fallen from heaven

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #harry potter oneshot #slytherin boys react #slytherin boys fanfiction #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #theodore nott x you #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #blaise zabini #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x reader #slytherin boys headcanons

[sourbinnie]

☆ regrets & replacements ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angstttt (is all i know how to do) ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> hyung line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> did he actually forget? or did someone make him forget? ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> swearing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

a/n -> i'm gonna use the same name for the girl best friend and it's soohee, i'm sorry if that's your name babes. to the person who sent me this request, babe i'll try making a happy ending i promise (even if this is just so sad lmaooo)

maknae line

chan ✉

it wasn't weird to you that he wasn't the first person to say "happy birthday" to you that morning. he had always been busy especially in comeback season, you weren't mad, just a bit disappointed. the messages started flooding in as you looked at your phone trying to respond to everything. as the hours passed and no chan messages, no appearances at your front door and definitely no calls, you were starting to feel a bit uneasy.

you thought maybe he was planning a surprise? maybe you had to be more patient. or maybe he actually forgot and you were just waiting for nothing. either way the thoughts left your head as soon as you heard the phone ring and it was a video call from minho.

"happy birthday (y/n)!" the boys cheered and they even had a cake with them. it made you feel ten times better knowing they cared so much but it still made you wanna cry not seeing chan there, it just felt wrong. "i'm sorry we couldn't say this earlier, we were busy with practice and i'm sure your boyfriend will be there at any minute." minho said.

"i hope so, he still hasn't said anything." you responded and they all looked confused as hell. chan had been wanting everything to be perfect for your birthday day and him not saying anything was kinda weird to all of them. "did he say anything to you guys?"

"he left earlier because he said he got plans? i thought he would be right there when we called." felix said and now it was your turn to be confused. so if he wasn't here and he said he got plans? where was he? it just didn't make sense. 

"i'm gonna text him right now to get his ass to your house." jisung said as he brought out his phone and texted as fast as he could. you could read the look on his face through the screen as he read the reply and it wasn't pleasing at all. "he's with soohee." jisung said and it was like everything stopped for a moment. 

"you're not serious right now." seungmin said and you couldn't hear the boys go off anymore because it was now starting to make sense. you were never really good friends with soohee, you tried to but it was like she had another image for who she wanted to be with chan (probably herself). you decided to hang up because you couldn't really talk anymore, you were just shocked that she would go that low and that he would not care enough. 

you wanted to go out and enjoy the rest of your birthday but it's like you were glued to the couch as the hours went by and eventually chan did get home. he looked at you and took in the scene, he wasn't sure what happened that you didn't text him all day like you usually do or that you didn't come by during practice. something had to be wrong for you to be acting like this right?

"baby? what's wrong? i missed you today." he said as he tried to sit down next to you but you got up and now he was starting to understand that he was the one who did you wrong. he still didn't know why though and the vague messages from the boys today weren't helping. he felt like he wasn't in on whatever was going on and it was starting to make him panic. "did i do something wrong? i have no idea what's happening."

"can i be alone today chris? i'm just not feeling too well." you expressed and that made him worry even more. you usually would talk it out if something like this happened but you were more silent than anything. you headed towards your shared room leaving a puzzled chan behind. that's when something popped up on his phone saying "(y/n)'s birthday, don't forget to pick up all the things you ordered!" and it fucking broke him completely. 

not only he didn't say happy birthday to you, not only he forgot to pick up all the gifts, not only did he not organize everything he had planned for today. he spent the whole day with a person he knew you weren't fond of and not with you who had waited all day for him to do something. if he wasn't the worst boyfriend in the planet right now, he surely didn't know who it was. 

minho ✉

it was no secret to you that minho forgot. you weren't really bothered by it since you weren't used to celebrating your birthday all that often but it made you kind of excited to do so this year. jisung decided to join you in organizing the event and when the day arrived, he said everything was set in place and of course told you happy birthday before anyone could do so.

"is minho hyung with you?" jisung asked over the phone as you tried to get ready. that question caught you off guard as you thought he told you he was going to be at the dorms. 

"he's not in the dorms?" you asked now feeling a bit troubled and hoping for the answer you knew wouldn't arrive because if he was at the dorms, jisung wouldn't have asked in the first place.

"i was sure that he told me he would be at your house before the party." he responded but as you looked around, yeah minho wasn't anywhere to be found and now you were wondering if he would show up at all. anxiety kicked in and that was not pleasant to feel on your special day. "okay i can feel you panicking through the phone already, he might be my best friend but i'm kicking his ass for lying."

jisung hanged up all of the sudden and you tried to concentrate on your look. you knew everyone was gonna be there so you wanted to make a good impression but all that was going through your mind was "why would minho lie?" and "where was minho?". it troubled you so much that you had to call him to know what was going on. 

"(y/n)? babe? i'm kinda busy right now." hearing his voice relieved you but you were still going back and forth in your head trying to figure out. maybe he was gonna surprise you? maybe he did really forget? or maybe he just didn't care? oh god all those questions.

"minho where are you?" you asked and waited for the dreaded response, you were already assuming the worst and you were right to do so when he responded.

"i'm at soohee's house. she had a bad date with a guy and she needed me here." he said as if it was all natural like he wasn't missing out on anything and that made you want to cry on the spot but you held back. it wasn't that he chose you over her, it was that she did this all the time and he wasn't realizing how she was using him. you wanted him to be here, to show you that he cared but his actions were speaking louder than anything.

"minho do me a favor and don't show up today." you said as you hung up, leaving a baffled minho on the other side of the line. what were you talking about? okay yes he lied about seeing his friend but it was because neither you or jisung liked her at all. he was just trying to be a good friend and he ended up being a bad one and also a terrible boyfriend in the process, how did that make any sense?

"who called?" soohee asked as she came back from getting all her makeup off after a long crying session. 

"oh it was (y/n), they were pissed at me though and i have no idea why." he explained and that only made her chuckle which had him confused. what was funny about his significant other being mad at him? yeah there was nothing funny about it.

"probably because their dumb birthday party was today." she responded and it hit him like a bucket of cold water. he looked at the calendar on his phone and he wanted to actually punch a wall. he forgot his partner's birthday, he lied in the process and he chose someone else who was now showing her true colors before him over you. how the fuck would he make it up to you now?

changbin ✉

you were trying to process what was going on as you woke up and had a ton of messages but there was no changbin beside you. it was weird also how all of the texts you were getting started with "happy birthday" but the one changbin sent only said "i'm gonna be busy today, sorry that i left without a goodbye!" and it was okay, you didn't expect him to remember everything especially when he was buried with work. 

well you thought it was work at least. you didn't expect it to be something else but every single one of the boys had told you to have a wonderful day and that they were sure changbin was gonna enjoy his day off with you. so it wasn't work and now you were left to think about the endless possibilities of where he could be.

"he left without a word?" yeonjun asked as he and wooyoung dropped by. they were some of changbin's closest friends but easily became yours as well as you hung out often with them. "but he told us he had big plans for today! where the fuck could he be?"

"i have no idea. i thought the boys would know but they even told me he asked for a day off to spend it with me." you said and you started to feel a little troubled. maybe something happened? he would tell you if something was happening though especially if it was an emergency.

"let's hope he's just planning the surprise." wooyoung said and you were hoping for that, that it was all just one big confusion and he didn't forget about you. you felt incredibly lonely when they left but they had hope that his friend would appear again and that "busy" meant he was gonna show up with a million flowers to make it up to you. 

but time was passing by and no changbin appeared until midnight. he didn't expect for you to be awake at such an hour but he didn't question it as he looked at you, dry tears in your face as you sniffled. worry washed over his body as he sat down next to you and tried to get close but you wouldn't let him.

"darling? what happened?" changbin asked, feeling the tension all of the sudden. he wasn't gonna be a coward and run away from it though, if you were feeling down it was his duty to know what happened.

"wooyoung and yeonjun were here thinking that you might show up with gifts or a reservation. i thought the same for a minute but then you never showed up." you said choking on your tears and it made his heart break into pieces as he processed what was happening. his friends showed up, his bandmates probably said something too, hell even his family told him to not forget about today and what did he do? not remember his significant other's special day.

"i'm sorry (y/n). i spent all day with soohee because she needed me and i forgot to even look at the date, i had everything planned. i'm such a fucking idiot but let me make it up to you." he tried explaining but it was no use as you got up as your sobs got louder and everything he said was only making it worse. he knew that beyond you not having a good relationship with her that he chose her over you on a date that was important and that he was now too late.

"so not only did you forget. you chose to spend it with a person who clearly hates me and everything about our relationship. i think that says more about you than me, changbin." you said as you shook your head and walked to your shared room, only to close the door in the process startling him. he feared that this would be the end because there was no going back from this one.

hyunjin ✉

you knew something was off when hyunjin basically went silent mode. he left the house in the morning, not a trace of a goodbye kiss and less of a happy birthday. he didn't answer his phone calls and neither the texts messages that you were sending which was very odd on his part. he usually would spam you images or emojis but there was no sight of him.

you asked chan if hyunjin happened to be at the studio and he responded back immediately saying that he was supposed to be there for practice and still hasn't showed up. which okay you could understand him working on your birthday, you weren't insane like that but he usually got there on time. you decided to grab your things and head to the jyp building, you wanted to see him mostly. maybe he had forgotten your birthday and that was okay, you still had the rest of the day to celebrate it.

everyone as soon as they saw you said "happy birthday" or greeted you which was very nice. when you saw the boys you couldn't help but smile even if deep down inside you were freaking out. you could tell the vibe was off as well as you saw chan on his phone but you weren't shook out of your thoughts as felix talked to you.

"you shouldn't have to spend your birthday at a filthy dance studio with us. you should be celebrating!" he said as he hugged you and you returned the hug. maybe you did need this embrace after all because you were feeling a little down as hyunjin still didn't arrive.

"i just wanted to see him lix. i'm kinda worried but i'm hoping for the best." you mumbled and he nodded as he understood how you were feeling and why you weren't acting like yourself.

"he says he's coming over here, thank god." chan said and that made you smile a little but then remembered he did not pick up any of your calls yet he picked up when chan called him. maybe he was busy before? well he could've still responded to you a bit later right?

you sat down next to seungmin as he saw how you were feeling and wanted to distract you from it. it was working until everyone saw hyunjin walk in with soohee and that was the answer to all your troubles even if it brought a storm towards you and what was going to happen.

"baby? what are you doing here?" he asked with a confused look on his face and could immediately pick up the tension in the room as the boys were glaring at him and you just looked so sad. 

"oh god are you seriously looking like that because he didn't say happy birthday? how old are you?" soohee spoke and hyunjin closed his eyes as he let it sink in. he knew you two weren't in terms and this only made it worse didn't it? he left without a trace, he didn't respond to anything on his phone and he was now walking in with her as she spoke to you in such a hateful way. 

"i'm just gonna go. i'm sorry for interrupting the practice guys and hyunjin, please don't come by my apartment." you said as the tears rolled down your face and you left as fast as you could. hyunjin wanted to go after you but felix stopped him because you needed to be alone for now to heal. the knot in his throat getting tighter as he thought about how he would redeem this after he fucked up so badly.

#sourbinnie #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz angst #skz #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #chan x reader #hyunjin x reader #changbin x reader #minho x reader #stray kids drabbles #skz drabbles

[gloryy-vs]

aonung x shy and tiny reader

pls i live for protective aonung 😭😭🙏 they'd be childhood friends and grew up decided that they will be mates eventually

My Mate

characters: ao’nung x na’vi reader

ratings: sfw , fluff

He always had at least one hand on you, or an arm wrapped around your waist. Ao’nung never let you leave his sight. Not much changed between you two since you were younger, he was always looking over you protectively. A running joke between your parents and his was that he was your personal warrior. Ready to spill blood for you when the time comes.

“Ma Ao’nung, come help me add a bead to my songcord. Let’s get matching ones for the Tulkun’s and their return!” You said happily, not noticing that you were interrupting his time with his friends. He didn’t seem to care, a smile creeping on his face while he got up. Ao’nung saw the two seashells in your palm, a soft grey color with a pearly coating.

As usual, he placed a hand on your lower back, turning you around gently as he spoke to his friends. “I’ll be back later. We can go hunting.” They rolled their eyes playfully, making it clear that this was an almost everyday occurrence. You flashed them an apologetic smile, they didn’t hold it against you anyways.

You excitedly explained to your mate about where you found the shells, a bit deeper in the sand, so it took you a while to find one that was similar. “Come! Let’s add them now.” You said happily, practically skipping to your shared Marui with him.

Ao’nung had a big smirk on his face, sitting down first with his legs spread apart. You grabbed your carved box with weaving materials and other beads before sitting between Ao’nungs legs with your back against his chest. You both unwrapped your songcord from your wrists, finding where the latest bead was placed and unknotting the end. He moved his arms to wrap around you, and he placed his head on your shoulder so he could see what he was doing. You loved any kind of physical contact with him, feeling his heart beat, the way his breath tickles your neck just barely.

You wrapped the twine and string around the silvery shell, securing it with a knot at the end. Your attention shifted to how Ao’nungs fingers worked so intricately, tying a knot at the end of his own songcord. He brushed a few stray strands of your hair from your face as you turned around a faced him at an angle. You held your wrist out, wanting him to tie it back for you.

“You always do it just right. Not too tight, not too loose.” In all honesty it’s because you also couldn’t tie it with one hand.

He laughed, already knowing the real reason. His hands were warm against your cooler skin, and his eyes shot ip to look at you while he tied a small bow for your songcord.

“You’re cold. Cmere.” He said, tapping away at your wrist to let you know you can put it down. He wrapped his arms around you, squishing you against him.

Rolling your eyes, you fought for him to let you go. “Cant, breathe!” You said, but he refused to budge.

“You’ll be okay.” Ao’nung said, looking down at you. His eyes stared at all of your feature for a brief moment, taking everything in.

“You’d make a perfect Tsahik.” He said, as if he was lost in thought still staring at you.

Your mouth was agape, a flustered expression covering your face as you looked at the future chief. He ran his fingers through the parts of your hair that weren’t braided, his other hand resting on your hand and caressing your palm softly.

“We should officially mate, before Eywa. I want you to be my Tsahik.” Ao’nung suggested, but the tone in his voice suggested that it was more of a demand.

You stiffened but slowly relaxed, knowing he would be with you each step of the way, even if it was a big responsibility and a important thing he was asking of you. You nodded, and a smile grew on his teal face.

“I must go ask your father permission to court you, come. We don’t have all day.” He said, giddy over the fact everything would be official between you two as soon as you mate.

#avatar neteyam #avatar way of water #neteyam imagine #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar loak #neteyam #avatar jake #neteyam x you #aonung imagine #aonung x you #aonung #aonung avatar #aonung x reader

[bomber-grl]

SAL FISHER RELATIONSHIP HC ! ₊˚⊹

₊˚⊹ PAIRING(s): Sal fisher x Gn!reader

He’s so sweet it hurts

Honestly, Sal is the best boyfriend ever, he’s always there for you and he always knows the perfect things to say when comforting you.

The two of you met because of the ghosts and the whole cult thing while at high school.

You were the more outspoken one out of the two of you since Sal was mostly against violence even when Travis was brought into the convo.

I can definitely see Sal being the first one to approach you.

It all started when Sal started becoming increasingly interested in you to the point that Larry and even ash started teasing and encouraging him to talk to you.

He would fluster, occasionally and say the wrong words out of nervousness however with luck, he managed to get your number.

It was hard not to fall for him, especially with how lovable he is.

He’s so genuinely nice and actually cares for others.

Of course, you eventually see his face, and although he was neutral about it since he trusted you he was still a bit nervous.

Definitely warms his heart when you not only accept his face but also kiss it.

He flusters and stutters so badly afterwards.

Continuing from that, he’s definitely the type to tease lightheartedly

Definitely not in the beginning though

So when you first started teasing and provoking him, causing him to get super flustered

He wouldn’t really know what to do except accept it, so imagine your surprise when he turns the tables once day and makes you a blushing mess

Most times when you hang out, you usually hang at the apartments in his room, or when sals an adult you’d hang out in his room in the house

During these hang outs you guys would usually listen to some music or just enjoy each others presence

Most times it’s just you and sal cuddling and ngl he smells rlly good

Like I’m not even joking and when you mention this, he can’t help but laugh and just tells you do too

However, when you guys hang out with Larry (which is more often than not) you guys end up in more than sus situations 😭😭

The. Larry is all like “I’ll leave you guys at it” and dips

Like??? We’re not doing anything 😭🗣️

Anyway

While you’re at high school ofc Travis has something to say, and if you’re a guy then he obviously calls you the f slur and a lot of homophobic nonsense

And if you’re a girl Travis still calls y’all homos in a negative way, and always says shit about you two

And I don’t think I need elaborate further about how Travis would probably hate crime you if you were non-binary, gender fluid, or basically anything under the trans umbrella

(Basically any gender identity that isn’t your assigned one 😭

Larry, ash, and Todd all get pissed at Travis , and they always come to the both of your guy’s defense

And ofc Sal is bit lenient towards Travis, well only ever when Travis is talking shit about him

If Travis talks shit about you he’d be pissed

But ofc younger Sal is less violent and more open so he’d obvs be kinder

Anyway, we all know what happens at the apartments and if you live there-

Let’s just say it pains Sal so much to have to kill you

I mean him having to kill all the people he grew up with and the people he cares for is horrible but he knows he has to

However, if you don’t, well let’s say you know about the cult and why he did it

Still doesn’t stop you from trying to find a way to get a lower sentence and from trying the convince ash of the truth

When sal dies, let’s just say you feel so alone

Of course you have ash by your side but it’s just horrible

Eventually you’re the person that sals soul would enter and you’d defeat the cult that way

But let’s all pretend that they were able to defeat the cult without having to kill the innocent tenants

Making sal a free man

Well if it were that way, you and Sal would be together for a long time, and if you both wished it, married too

———

Art credits : @/toasterdoodle22

#male reader #gn!reader #gn reader #female reader #sally face #sal fisher #fluff headcanons #fluff #fanfic fluff #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x female reader #sally face headcanons #sally face fandom #sally face fanfiction #sal fisher sally face #relationship headcanons #sally face x reader #sally face x male reader #sally face game #fanfic

[kaicubus]

Distraction | Xavier T.

warnings ✩° : mutual pining, angry(?) confession, teasing, competition, cursing, rivals to lovers, both reader and xavier are 17-18 years old, fluff but also a tad spice.

pairing ✩° : xavier thorpe x fem!reader

premise ✩° :  on the day of the annual poe cup, you're put against your academic rival, xavier thorpe, and you don't want to lose. however, he has other plans of  getting the upper hand with you and knows exactly how to get his way. hes knocking out two birds with one stone, if you will.  

word count ✩° : 3.4k

authors note ✩° : this was done in literally a few hours bc i’m obsessed and it needs to be addressed.

The rules were simple.

They always have been. Follow what the people in charge told you and don't disappoint. If you disappoint them then you disappoint the whole community and what good are you if you're a disappointment. It was hard not to see school, ground zero for being the best, as a competition. In fact, you thrived working towards a goal of being superior than everyone else; maybe it was due to the fact that no matter what was put in front of you, you could understand it and write it off as done as soon as you wrote your name. However, there were some things you didn't get at times and that frustrated you.

Over the time you’ve known him, it’s been test after test, assignment after assignment, obscure experiment after obscure experiment to prove to this seemingly effortlessly perfect creature that you’re better than him, only for you to miss his mark by one. point.

“Maybe you should think less about being better than me and more about the material, Y/n.” Xavier would say, “But don’t worry, you ALMOST got the same score as me.”

It wasn't his snarky comments or obviously stronger memory than you that made you over the top angry, no, it was the fact that you couldn't understand how he was doing it. Nothing made sense and the feeling of not knowing made looking into his stupid hazel eyes, gazing at his sharp and defined side profile, and wispy long hair all the more annoying. Everything has to have answers. So why did he make your throat tighten every time you spoke to him? Or your face flush with dark shades of pink and red? It had to be anger. There was no other explanation.

All of the rivalry would eventually lead you both up to the annual Poe Cup. A boat race amongst four teams, five members from each house all stuck together on their respective hand crafted boats each representing a different Edgar Allen Poe poem.

You're on The Black Cat team while Xavier’s on The Amontillado team. For a whole week you spend with your team, preparing for the race and to utterly destroy Xavier because this will finally prove to yourself that you’re good at him at something.

“You ready to beat the shit out of Xavier, Y/n?” Your friend who knows your rivalry with the guy smiles at you, “Once WE have that cup he has to realize that all he is to you, is dirt.” She was right.

“Relax, F/n, why ruin my chances with excitement when I can take all of that and shove it in his face at the very end.”

Your other team mate taps you both on your shoulders, “You guys ready? It’s almost time.” With that, you watch everyone file into their boats, Xavier included, and so you and your friend make your way into your own seats. However, just before you adjust your headband on your head, you decide to catch a glimpse of the destined losers on each side of you. Though no one else is important right now other than seeing him, so you give a side eyed glance in Xavier’s direction.

To your surprise, not only is he already looking at you, but, “Is he laughing at me?”

Your friend looks towards Xavier as well and scoffs, “Yeah,” She confirms, “Looks like they all are. Fucking clowns.”

As you chew on the inside of your cheek out of anger, a sudden whistle blows from Ms. Weems accompanied by a large megaphone that amplifies her voice as she speaks.

You can tell out of the corner of your eye that ever since your friend had rudely thrusted her middle finger into the sky for all the jesters to see, Xavier hadn't stopped looking at you. His eyes, laser focused, burned into the side of your head and it only made you more anxious for the race. You bite your lip ever so slightly and fight back the urge to look at him too.

Thankfully, you're saved by a gunshot that explodes into the air and suddenly your team gets pushed into the water.

Of all things, why should you be thinking about Xavier Thorpe and what he has to say or look at you for? All this time, you've convinced yourself that you could care less what he thinks of you. After all, the reason you're trying so hard to be better than him is the very reason that motivates you every day to get up and face him. Otherwise, you'd be locked away in your dorm with nothing to do but attend class and repeat the cycle. In a way, he was your reason to wake up.

“Y/N! Duck!” Your friend suddenly snaps you out of your mechanical like motions of rowing as hard as possible. Wasting no time, you dodge the flying axe coming your way by a hair. “What the hell?! Y/n, focus!”

“I am focused, F/n.”

“No, you're not. You got that lost look in your eyes. Stop thinking about Xavier and maybe pay attention to all the objects being thrown around at us? So you don't die, and most importantly, so we can win this for our hall?”

For the rest of the distance from the starting line to the other end of the lake, you try not to look behind you as looking behind you would only distract you from the prize. All of your team puts in their all in rowing as fast as they can together in sync, each arm pushing at the exact same second as everyone else to really glide through the water. Despite nets being tossed, siren students diving under boats and tipping them over, and very small fire crackers being thrown into other boats, three teams are left remaining to the next stage of the race. Getting the flag.

“Go go go!” F/n pushes you up, “Get the black flag. We’ll be waiting here to look out for anybody.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you nod and start sprinting directly into the old, creaky forest. Dry leaves crunch under your feet in threes, making their crinkles the only noise in the entire forest. That’s good, you think, that means no one else came yet. Quickly jumping over logs and rocks, you make your way to the flag destination, only to see that your black flag is missing.

“What the—”

“Hey,” a voice calls out from behind you, “Looking for something?”

The cheesy line doesn't go without an eye roll as you turn around, “Xavier.”

“You don't seem too happy to see me.” Your rival stands with a shit eating grin on his face, comically extenuated with crimson, drippy paint.

You're quick to reply, “I'm not. You took my flag which I need to win this. So hand it over, Thorpe.”

He raises his hands and allows you to charge up to him just close enough so that you're barely touching the tips of his pointed shoes with your jet black boots. “What? Who says I have your flag? I JUST got here in case you hadn't noticed.”

“I actually haven't noticed. Because why would I stop to care about where you are?”

“You seemed to care when we first started.” Xavier leans down and twists his head slightly, just enough for you to be caught off guard and step back, “I saw you looking at me.” His tone makes you shrink back.

Heat rushes to your face in a fleeting panic and almost immediately, your chest twists your rib cage hard enough to squeak out, “I WASN'T LOOKING AT YOU! YOU were looking at ME!”

Xavier raises his brows and chuckles, “I remember differently.”

Of course he has to be cocky now. “Look, Xavier. Just forget this and let me go. Your gross sweat is getting all over me.”

“Oh is that so?”

“YESNOWLETGO.”

He snickers at your flustered nature but decides to go the extra mile and tease you further, “You do realize that we all have to get back, Y/n, its kinda the whole reason why we made it here. Though it looks like its just the two of us.” He turns to both of his sides and then directs his attention back to you, “I’d say we have a little time.”

Again, you emphasize, “WE don't have time. Unlike you, I actually WANT to win. Xavier, I don't know what your deal is or why you're so obsessed with me and making me look like a complete and utter fool, but once I win this for my team, it ends. Do you understand me?”

Xavier exhales deeply, “You know, for someone who’s so high strung and smart, you're really dumb, aren't you?”

“What?”

He steps forward, causing you to back into a tree. You can feel the roughness of the tree bark as it etches its way across the backside of your suit, causing a mildly discomforting feeling that shivers throughout your skin. Before you can move forward, Xavier steps closer, basically eliminating any means of escaping.

“Why am I so obsessed with you? Is that what you think this is? Obsession?”

You look up at him to find his naturally tall stature hunched over to be at eye level with you. Surely, if anyone to walk into the scene, they’d think you two were stopping the competition just to make out. Even though Xavier’s hand is firmly pressed just between your ear and shoulder and he was just over an inch close to you so that your noses are barley touching, it’s not like that at all. Yet, at least.

“That’s what I just asked.” Your eyebrows stitch together bitterly, “Can you not hear, clown? You don’t understand how hard it is for me to watch my reputation die because of you and your perfect grades and your perfect art. What makes you think you can just parade yourself around to be better than me?!” The questions leave a burning sensation in your throat.

“Reputation? Grades? Is that what this is about?”

“YES! Are you DENSE?!”

Instead of matching your violent glower, you watch as the clown leans his head to the side in laughter. His lips parting just enough so you can see his sharp teeth laugh at you too, “Y/n, did you just call me dense? What is that? An insult? At least I’m not the one who always scores lower than me.”

Embarrassment? Anger? Nervousness? Why was his laugh the thing to make you feel weak now? Maybe the first two are theories, but the third is a definite fact. Your eyes are quickly drawn in by his hazel pupils, curious and dilated as they stare back at you. For a moment, the silence between you two isnt filled with hate or rivalry, but peace. That is until he lets out a breathy laugh after getting a good look at your calm face for once.

“Y/n, cat got your tongue? Or do you just not have anything else to say to me other than ‘I hate you’ and ‘stop being better than me’?” He points a finger to your feline head accessory.

"Shut up.” You bark, “Dumb isn’t really a good insult either. You are so full of shit—"

Xavier moves closer, now toe to toe with you and just a breath away from your face.

“God, Y/n, cant you see that I like you? All this time I thought it was so obvious. I mean, how are you going to tell people you're the smartest person in the room when you cant even pick up on subtle hints that basically spell it out for you?” He says, “Or are you too busy to notice anyone other than yourself?”

His words cause your heart to pound once, twice, and before you know it you can’t hear anything but the thumping in your chest and the soft winds surrounding you both. Xavier parts his lips again, determined to give you the answers you've been so desperately searching for. 

“Do you know how fucking exhausting it is to pretend I hate you back, just to have the opportunity to talk to you?” His tone is exasperated and shallow, but he doesn't break eye contact with you, “You seriously thought all those times we got close was because I wanted to be ‘better’ than you in some subject?” Almost like he doesn't believe you, Xavier shakes his head in disapproval, “The only time Ive wanted to prove to you I'm worth something is now.”

His confession only fills your head with more questions, “That doesn't even make any sense! How can you say you didn't actually want to be better than me when that's all you did?” You feel the heat saturate into a dark pink that settles into your cheeks, “And why are you telling me all this now? Why are you so adamant on telling me that you—”

Xavier doesn't even acknowledge your questions, he just continues to hold a burning tension between you and him, focusing only on one thing.

Fuck.

Maybe its the fact hes so close, or that he told you hes liked you all this time, but right now it feels like nothings stopping you from telling him too. It just feels so right.

Before you know it, your mouth opens on its own, your bottom lip trembling for just a second. Xavier’s eyes trail down to your lips, then back into your eyes, and a small smirk pulls the corner of his ivory painted skin up.

Without another second to lose, Xavier tilts even closer than he thought he’d ever be to you and cups your cheek, finding the courage you both need to pull you into an unexpected kiss.

The pastiness of your rival’s white face paint rubs against your dewy skin as the taste of him spreads across your pallet, rough, warm, and agonizingly slow. With a gentle hand, you bunch the back of Xavier’s thin yet airy suit and fall into him, curving just enough so he can extend his hold on you.

Xavier knew that he wanted to touch you. It’s basically been his dream ever since he got close to you and seemingly hurdled himself into being your rival. But he’d never admit that. Or maybe, now he would. Gently, Xavier clasps onto your hips more carefully, securely rubbing his fingers against the skin tight latex uniform you were forced to wear which gives him enough grip to hook his desperate palms onto your body.

You break away for a second, just long enough to look at his face and how mesmerized he is by you and just how fucked you are in this downward spiral of messy feelings and requited love. Love you are much too afraid to commit to. But, Xavier pulls you back into his lips and makes you forget all of your worries, even the one you're supposed to be most worried about. 

The kiss practically captures you for what seems like an eternity, erasing all memory of the Poe Cup and time spent hating Xavier's guts only to now realize that that hate may have been fueled by a painfully simple crush. But you wouldn't admit that either. Though, now there’s no other explanation to the methods behind your madness.

Soon enough, your hands find their rightful place in his long, messy hair, scooting his jester cap off easily. Had you known his hair was this soft before? You always told yourself you didn't care but now it was too hypnotizing not to twirl your fingers in. In fact, it’s practically asking you to grab it and play with it, screaming at you to touch it, touch him.

Xavier’s hips press into yours, giving you the go ahead to adjust your position so that your thigh is comfortably resting atop his hip. The stance feels too natural to be normal, and you're both caught off guard by it. Yet, you continue to taste him and feel him up close without another thought.

Nipping at your bottom lip, you can feel Xavier let out a sigh of relief, as if kissing you has been something on his mind for years. Only half of that could be true. Still, his victory cheer makes you do your own version with a quieter huff.

You give the roots of his hair a tight squeeze before your shoulders relax and another sigh escapes from your now open mouth. The force of his lips smashing against yours pushes you back successfully, leaving each part of your body to surrender to his. For once, you let it and as much as you hate to admit it, whatever he was doing was working.

When he finally pulls away, your breath is harsh and so is his. No matter how hard you could try, looking away from his hazy eyes was not an option. Just like the fog around you both, his gaze is inescapable and suffocating. You knew kissing your rival was a bad idea, but neither one of you want to move your hands from their proper places on each other.

Just then, a distant voice calls out to Xavier that snaps you out of your absentmindedness. “Shit,” Xavier curses softly against your lips, “Thanks for that Y/n,” he pulls away, much to your hidden displeasure, “But...I have a cup to win.”

Suddenly, it all comes hurdling back.

“FUCK! THE RACE!” You tear yourself away from Xavier, breaking the warmth between you both, and scramble to find your flag, “YOU CONNIVING SON OF A BITCH. YOU DISTRACTED ME!”

“I hope you don't mind but I actually sort of hid it.” He grins slyly at you, straightening his suit with a swift rub on his chest, “No rules, remember?” He pulls out a flag from behind him and snickers. Has he had that this entire time?

A flash of surging anger fumes inside of your chest, but Xavier just smiles. In his mind, it’s almost laughable how you fell for his devious yet successful confession slash plan. It was too good to pass up. And judging by the sour pout on your face, it worked!

“Y/n,” He chirps, “Was I a good distraction?” He can’t help but ask.

You avoid his gaze and turn your head to other possible directions your flag can be in, “You're the worst, Xavier.”

He runs a hand through his brown hair and smooths it down, “Right, right. You hate me. But I got you pretty good, didn’t I?” He picks up his jester cap and lazily smashes it onto the top of his head, “I'm gonna go, but, you should totally meet me in my dorm tonight? At 8?”

He makes his hasty exit before you can reply, leaving you breathless and weak in the knees—mostly tight fisted and furious, but still, weak in the knees.

“So, Y/n. Do you want to explain why you...left for so long..?” Your teammate asks, kind of scared to ask in the first place but confusion was eating her alive. How fitting.

Instead of answering, you reply with strong and swift robotic motions that quickly thunk your boat along the shore line, taking a good chunk out of the grass and soil. Unfortunately, half way through your synchronized rowing, some water kicked up into the boat and soaked your costume. You didn't care though. All you wanted was Xavier.

And his head on a stick.

Sounds of congratulatory cheers erupt from the crowd as Xavier and the rest of his jester-like teammates hold up the Poe Cup trophy together.

“Bitch.” Is all you can say when all your other teammates wash up next to you, sad, defeated, and soaked with murky lake water.

“Well get them next time, Y/n. Don’t be so hard on yourself!” Your friend smiles happily.

Yeah. Tonight.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday fanfic #wednesday series #wednesday fic #wednesday xavier #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe fanfic #wednesday netflix #kaicubus

[saeist]

"how many times do i have to say it? no" nagi breathes out, barely even acknowledging your presence as he continues to play on his computer in his dorm room

with a loud huff, loud enough for him to hear even with his headphones on, you flop down at his bed, sprawling your arms around as you stare up at his ceiling

"c'mon sei! i'm literally almost legal but yet i still don't even have a first boyfriend, let alone a first kiss!" you complained, throwing your hands over you face

you see nagi shrug before retorting something along the lines of 'what does that have to do with me'

"nagiiiiii" you drag out, hoping to get a reaction from him. to which, you do get a reaction from him! his signature look of boredom.

"fine. i'll help you"

"yay" you clapped your hands

"only if you buy me 5 battlepasses and whatever i want on the nightmarket" nagi bargains

with a deep sigh, you agree "fine!"

after a bit of more complaining to nagi that you were infact bitchless for most of your life and you're getting a little desperate to get some action as you are a junior in college and two, most of your other friends that isn't nagi are in relationships which makes you a tad bit jealous that you are gonna die alone anyway without getting some any action

you don't know how you even got to this point of the conversation where whether or not nagi has or had been in relationships but here you are now

"so wait, let me get this straight.." you pause, holding your palm out as a way of making nagi pause whatever he's mumbling about, "you already kissed someone?"

nagi shrugs again, "it was only because of some spin the bottle shit reo made me play at some party we went to"

"so that makes you experienced then?"

"not really"

"but you already have your first kiss?"

"i guess?"

"then you are experienced!"

nagi gives you a puzzled look as he lies down next to you. "what do you want me to do then?" he asked, just so he can be done with it

"i want you to teach me how to kiss" you turn to look at him with a glint of your eyes that basically screams "i am determined to get the perfect first kiss with someone i will pursue"

nagi looks dumbfounded at your completely bizarre request. he looked at you like you just grew a second head

"what the fuck"

in the end nagi does eventually give in (not because you totally bribed him again into buying him an entire collection worth of items at his nightmarket and some battlepasses that could easily be around 3 months worthwhile)

so now here you were, seated across from nagi, ready to learn how to kiss and what better way to learn than to ask your best (and only) friend at your college!

"so do i just close my eyes or..?" you start, beginning to feel self aware at the situation that you brought yourself onto

"i'd prefer that" nagi retorts, making you giggle a bit because of how funny he sounded

"okay.. okay" you breathe, closing your eyes as you slowly start leaning in.

"... my eyes are now closed"

for the record, nagi didn't really mind nor care if you opted to opening your eyes while doing this whole thing but he just doesn't want to see you see him all worked up

"i'm leaning in" nagi warns you, so that you won't feel like he's being invasive or all that funky shit. basically he just didn't want you to get the wrong idea

and so, your lips meet.

"congrats, you got your first kiss" nagi casually says as not even a millisecond later, he pulls away and moves to the other side of his bed

"nagi! that was barely even a kiss!"

"how would you know if you never had it before this?" he retorts, making you heat up in partial embarrassment because it was true that you didn't have your first kiss yet and the other reason being which that he was technically your first kiss

"i-i just know, okay damn it!" you stammered, "let's do it again!"

"if you want to kiss me that badly just say so" nagi attempts to make a joke to lighten up the dampen mood but from what you think, he just worsened the whole situation

"haha very funny nag–" before you could even finish your sentence, nagi crashes his lips against yours.

instinctively you placed your hands over his chest to which he places them over his neck, giving him more room to suck your face off.

you may or may not have accidentally moaned in the midst of this activity you two were doing which prompted into something more

you were now laying flat at his bed with him hovering you. still not breaking the kiss whatsoever. his shirt long gone, now at the floor. everything was going smooth

that is until reo decides it would be the most perfect time to barge in to tell nagi about how he just got a new pair of soccer shoes that were issued at the latest soccer magazine

"nagi! you'll never believe what i just got! it's the one messi just wore at the cover of– JESUS CHRIST"

reo basically shrieked, shielding his eyes with said magazine.

you and nagi basically separated. your eyes dart to nagi's shirtless body and to reo who was looking between you and nagi. just in time for a hypothetical light bulb to pop up at the top of his head

"oh.. i'm just gonna" reo throws his thumb back at nagi's door and dashes out before yelling "be safe you two!"

when the door closes, you and nagi both sigh in relief that he was gone but the damage was done

"well.."

"uhh.." you fiddled with your fingers, unable to look at nagi in the eye.

"how was that then as your first lesson?" as always, nagi just seems to find a way to try and cut the atmosphere although this time, it worked.

"it was a splendid demonstration. i'll rate it a 8/10" you applaud

nagi crawls over to you with a small mischievous glint in his eyes. he traps you in between his arms as he stares down at you.

"just an 8?"

feeling a little frisky, and obviously enjoying what was going on earlier right before reo interrupted, you decide that maybe learning from nagi wouldn't hurt a thing or two

you throw your hands over nagi's neck before responding to him

"could you show me how you did that thing earlier with your tongue again? i couldn't quite get that" you say in a fake curious tone making nagi chuckle

"okay. let me demonstrate it to you again. thoroughly" nagi whispers before catching your lips with his.

you went to school with nagi's hoodie the next day and people (and reo) could only guess why

#blue lock imagines #bllk imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #nagi imagines #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro imagines #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi scenarios #nagi x you #nagi fluff #nagi seishiro scenarios #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro fluff #nagi seishiro #nagi #dont ask why im suddenly a nagi fucker

[burntoutdaydreamer]

3 Steps to Improve Your Characters and Make Them Three-Dimensional

So I don’t have a process for creating/developing characters (to me the process is intuitive to the point where I wouldn’t even know how to explain it), but I do have a process for revising characters that just… fall flat, for whatever reason. 

I like to get to know my characters by throwing them into a bunch of different situations and seeing how they react, but sometimes that’s not enough. In these cases I need to go back to the drawing board and figure out how to make them not feel like a cardboard caricature of the role I need them to fill. Here’s the process I use, and it involves three key questions to understand what makes your character tick.

1) What is this character’s fundamental belief- either about the world or themself?

2) Where does this belief come from?

3) How does this belief hinder them, and are they capable of growing past it?

Alright, here’s what the process looks like in action. 

Let’s say I have a character I need to flesh out for my story.

Character A is a middle aged coffee shop owner and the protagonist of her story. The central conflict of the story revolves around trying to save the family run coffee shop she inherited from her father when he passed away, which has recently fallen on hard times.

What is this character's fundamental belief?

Character A believes that the world is an inherently good and fair place. She believes that good is always rewarded and bad is always punished, even if the timing isn't always perfect. As such, she strives to live a virtuous life, putting as much good into the world as she possibly can. While she understands that even good people can face hard times, she believes that in the long term, if things don't work out, it'll be because she didn't put in the work needed to turn things around.

Where does this belief come from?

Character A grew up in a solidly middle class household with good parents that treated her well- rewarding her for good work, and fairly punishing her for misdeeds. Her parents gave her everything she needed, but also expected her to work hard for the things she wanted. She also had the experience of watching her father build a successful business through hard work and by building strong connections with the people in town. If we want to push this further, we could also say that this belief was reaffirmed by watching her brother ruin his own life, squandering all his money and goodwill with those around him on failed get-rich-quick-schemes and outright scams that landed him in jail.

How does this belief hinder them, and are they capable of growing past it?

Let's say that Character A recently hired a barista who seems perfect for the job. Strapped for help, she gets him started right away before getting the results of his background check. When the results come in, she finds out that he is on probation and was recently released from jail for a violent crime. Shocked, she fires him. Believing that people who end up in jail always deserve it, she can't see past her initial prejudices. As a result, her coffee shop suffers from the loss of her new star barista.

Some time goes on, and Character A encounters the barista again, and learns more about the circumstances that landed him in jail (maybe he was falsely convicted, maybe he was battling psychosis, maybe the violent act was done to prevent a loved one- anything that makes her question her initial assumptions). He then confesses that he is struggling to provide for himself and his family because no one will hire him because of his criminal record. Character A comes to realize that her belief isn't completely true, and that the world isn't entirely fair. Though it takes a lot of inner work to do so, including coming to terms with her privilege, she eventually accepts this, and revises her beliefs. She decides that even though the world isn't fair, people have the responsibility to make it fair.

She decides to re-hire the barista she fired. After doing everything she can to make things right with him, she proposes an idea she wants his help with. Together, they transform her family business into a joint coffee shop and community rehabilitation center. In addition to selling coffee, they also launch a program to provide resources to recently incarcerated individuals looking to reenter society. They'll host weekly events on job interview coaching, alcoholics anonymous, motivational speeches, group therapy, opportunities to connect with open-minded employers, and more. Their promotion of this new program enables them to secure funding from local patrons and public grants, and customers are willing to pay for more expensive coffee with the knowledge that that money will be put to good use.

Additionally, if we want to go with the brother in jail backstory, we could have this ending be an opportunity for her to reconnect with him and maybe even repair their relationship as she gets to see him in a new light.

Main Takeaways

And there you have it!

You can use this process on any character- protagonist, antagonist, side character, etc. By grounding your character's motivations and development in their beliefs, you can easily introduce depth and internal conflict while keeping everything connected to the themes and plot driving your story.

Depending on your character's role or your story's plot, the belief can be wide reaching and complex (such as a philosophy or ideology), or specific and personal (such as having to do with their self-esteem). Either way, it should always be tied to their personal experiences or observations. This doesn't necessarily mean a tragic backstory. It could be, but I encourage you not to make this your default way of creating character depth. A mundane but grounded and sincere motivation will always be more compelling than cheap, dark shock factor.

Generally, protagonists with happy endings and villains with successful redemption arcs are capable of moving past their beliefs, while tragic heroes and antagonists aren't, and this failure is usually the source of their downfall. Keep in mind that even if characters do move past their old beliefs, it will always be a difficult thing to do. It will require them to confront their own mistakes, biases, and emotional wounds, and require both internal and external work in order to fix whatever their old beliefs have damaged.

Hopefully this guide will help you approach your characters from a different perspective. Feel free to share any insights.

Happy writing y'all!

#creative writing #writing #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #novel writing #writerscommunity #writing advice #writing problems #on writing #writing characters #character development #writing help #fiction writing #writing tips #writing thoughts #long post #really long post

[lucyandthepen]

love on the floor - i. | njm

exactly when does vice president na turn from the company’s worst nightmare into your favorite daydream?

pairing: chaebol!na jaemin x secretary fem!reader rating: vaguely M, but will very quickly escalate into a hard R in coming chapters genre: romance, fluff, (eventual) smut (in later chapters), chaebol!au warnings: jaemin isn’t really a total asshole but he isn’t great at the beginning either and i think that should be a warning, there’s probably some language use that deserves a bit of caution i GUESS, but tbh nothing much here because we want to pretend that this is a fic of chaste circumstances and not a lead-up to raunchy, depraved smut  word count: 16.4k

author’s note: first of all, the development of this fic is absolute SHIT because i love context too much and refuse to shut up at the beginning only to get antsy for the ending so if the pace is a little stop and go … it’s because i’m a Fewl !! and i totally own up to that !! and second of all, this is actually just a set-up for about two more shorter (?? what’s shorter) works that i’ve already been wanting to write but felt like i would be remiss in doing so without some kind of build-up to the relationship so :^) here we are ! heavily unbeta'd and miss lucy is a bit rusty but we carry on for the sake of enjoying oneself (and practicing writing once again) muah enjoy!

At least this job gets you free medical. 

Actually, all things considered, this is an excellent job with limitless benefits. You never have to worry about the three-level insurance, you have monthly paid-for visits to the dentist, and you sometimes get to use the company car for personal errands for as long as you meticulously check everyone else’s schedules and butter up the head secretary, Son Seungwan, just enough so that she feels mollified enough to let you have this favor (but not too much to the point that she catches on and gives you a ten minute lecture on the rising prices of gas post-the-turn-of-the-decade). Your rent’s well paid-for, and the apartment you’re staying at is comfortable, albeit a little smaller than most, although that’s just because you prefer spending your money on once-in-a-lifetime type things, like front row seats to a Paul Kim concert. You get 50% discounts at the company cafeteria, which boasts a pretty nice salad bar with more than just perilla leaves as the greens. The bathrooms even have luxury soap installed into the automatic hand dispensers, so you always come out clean and fancy smelling. 

All in all, the job’s pretty perfect, to the point that you don’t think leaving will ever truly be in the cards — except for the fact that you barely see your boss, which, as nice as it sounds on paper, is actually the most stressful part of the position. 

You’ve always been of the opinion that if Vice President Na Jaemin put his mind to something, he’d actually do it very well, but the running issue is that he hardly ever puts his mind to anything, especially when it comes to work. In fact, the only thing he ever seems to take seriously is having eleven hours of uninterrupted sleep, which you personally think is an extremely hard thing to achieve, leading you to the firm belief that if he channeled that energy into something less dead-to-the-world and a little more productive, things would be amazing. 

And maybe things would also be a little less distressing if his family would just accept him for who he is instead of expecting too much (or, actually, anything) from him, but Vice President Na is the only son of the family that owns the largest telecom company in the country, so his parents have a ton of huge expectations for him. His father, in particular, is clearly trying to prepare him to take over the entire business, something that the Vice President clearly isn’t keen on doing, based on the many arguments you’ve had to sit through alongside Head Secretary Son. The result is a lot of tension that’s only exacerbated by the Vice President’s desire to avoid more conflict, which he does by suddenly disappearing from the office for hours — sometimes days — at a time. 

So for as much medical, dental, and reasonably priced caesar salad as you’re getting from this job, you’re not entirely sure how worth it those things all are if they come with the task of you having to sit through twenty minutes of lecturing in place of Vice President Na Jaemin himself. 

“This is the last time,” President Na roars — not necessarily at you, but at you, in your general direction, while you stand helplessly in front of his desk, your hands folded across your lap and your head hung low. You don’t really feel terrified or hurt — more than knowing that the President isn’t shouting at you for your incompetence, you’ve also gotten used to being on the receiving end of these weird, indirect lectures and have thus come to know the exact standard of ‘sorry’ that you have to look for it to be over as quickly as possible. Still, you’re kind of annoyed that this particular spiel is taking up precious minutes from your afternoon break. Then again, you don’t know what you’d expected to begin with when you’d come back from the cafeteria after lunch and found the Vice President’s chair abandoned, leather cold, indicating that he’d been gone for quite a while. It’s about four o’clock now, and he still hasn’t come back, and all your messages to him have gone unread, as you’ve also grown used to. “You tell my no-good son if he isn’t back within the hour, he can live the rest of his life without my last name.”

You’re not sure if the implications of that will really sink into the Vice President’s heart enough to trigger the guilt it’s clearly trying to elicit, but you know better than to voice your opinion. You nod once, then bow at a perfect ninety-degree angle. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Four years of this, and he hasn’t learned a single thing,” the President continues, completely ignoring your useless and vaguely insincere apology. “Where’d he run off to this time?” 

You don’t know. You never really know. Since he actively tries to avoid all work-related things, he also actively tries to avoid you, something he does by never picking up the phone or telling you the details of his daily schedule anyway. You can only share what you do know, which is very little and, therefore, extremely useless, but you try to say it in a way that appears relatively helpful. “His schedule says he was supposed to have lunch with the foreign investors that are trying to connect Prime Video to the Korean market, but it seems he didn’t show up for that.”

Which essentially translates to: you have no clue. Again, all parties in the room — inclusive of Head Secretary Son, who constantly has to bear witness to the many threats Vice President Na receives via you — know this isn’t your fault, but it doesn’t make the vein that’s about to pop out of the President’s temple any less pronounced, nor does it stop you from bowing and apologizing again when he says “get him back in here before five o’clock or tell him he’ll never be able to step foot in this building again!” even though you know that the threat would probably sound more like a gift than anything else to Vice President Na. 

“And you,” the President points a vaguely accusatory finger at you. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise. “If he isn’t back here at that time, you can kiss your job goodbye too. You go ahead and tell him that. Let’s see if Jaemin will finally get off his ass if he knows someone else is going to have to suffer for his behavior.” 

The only person who sees your jaw fall open is Head Secretary Son, who’s now leading you away from the President’s desk and towards the door; the President has taken to staring at this huge family picture of himself, his wife, and the Vice President that’s hanging just behind his executive’s chair, all looking considerably happier than anyone in this situation feels. You hear him mutter something that sounds like “where did I go wrong with you, you punk?” before the door shuts close behind you.

“I’d say he doesn’t mean that, but we don’t actually know to what lengths he’ll go to get the Vice President on board.” Head Secretary Son admits, lifting two fingers to gently shut your mouth, still agape. “If I were you, I’d figure out how to keep him on a leash. The fact that he’s never around is probably ninety-percent of our current problems.”

“I can barely get him to respond to schedule reminders,” you groan; your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose like this will somehow stop the oncoming migraine. “Let alone get him to stay still. I was just about to put in a down payment for a car of my own, too.” 

You’ve never really been considerably attached to this job, mostly because there isn’t much to actually attach yourself to, but if you think about it now, it really is better than most, and this economy isn’t really kind to people who get fired from their jobs. You feel like puking at the thought of losing the free unlimited coffee in the pantry and trading it in for a life behind a convenience store counter, which is probably where you’ll end up, pessimistically speaking.

You excuse yourself from Head Secretary Son, who has the heart to look a little pitying as you trudge towards the elevator. You don’t even know where you’d start looking for the Vice President, especially since he spends quite a lot of his efforts trying to avoid having to communicate with you. You don’t even know what his habits are, which means you can’t make educated guesses on where he might have run off to, so the only route to go is to look in the immediately surrounding area and widening your search diameter as time passes.

Until five o’clock, of course — a deadline that, if unmet, will likely mean you also won’t be returning to the office either. 

You start off at the nearby bookstore, extremely skeptical that the Vice President would ever willingly go to a place that requires more effort even after you make a purchase. As expected, he isn’t there, but he isn’t in the nextdoor candle shop (also unlikely) either, nor do you find him in the hand-cut noodles shop next to that as well. You walk down the entire street for a good twenty minutes, pressing your face against the windows of stores shamelessly, to the ire of many startled and disgruntled staff, trying to look for a familiar head shape in the small crowds in them, but to no avail. Then, you think about calling him again, but when you pat the pockets of your jacket, you realize your phone is still on your desk, where you’d left it when you’d been summoned to see the President. With a loud groan and an annoyed clip clop of your heels as you stamp your feet on the pavement, you walk back to the office. 

In your frenzy to find the Vice President, you’d gone quite a distance, and your shoes simply aren’t made for long, aggravated walks; they start hurting your feet halfway back, and you’re pretty sure you have a blister behind the strap of the left one. Pride would tell you to tough it out, but you’d thrown that out at the thought of losing your job at the expense of a single man, so you don’t even hesitate to take them off and run back to the building. The big digital clock above the elevators says you have ten minutes left to find your boss, and you start thinking about using that time for better things — like packing your stuff up neatly in a box for when you get sacked. 

With the situation seemingly hopeless, you trudge to the first floor cafe, where the return counter has a pitcher of water and a stack of tiny paper cups. They’re tiny tiny, like the size of your thumb, so you have to keep refilling it just to start feeling a little more human. 

You’re on your third refill when you hear a giggle come from across the space. The barista’s just finished laughing at what must have been an extremely hilarious joke, or she might be flirting with whoever’s leaning over the counter to talk to her. A whoever that seems to be the exact same height and build as the elusive Vice President of this company. 

You accidentally toss the paper cup in the plastics bin in your desperation to get moving, worried that if you’re not fast enough, he’ll disappear into thin air again. Luckily, his attention’s completely focused on the barista, so he can’t go anywhere when you finally reach his side and huff, loud enough to interrupt what seems like an intimate-ish conversation between them. 

“Sorry, I was just — oh, it’s you.” The Vice President’s smile fades when he sees it’s you, someone he can’t charm out of what they’re supposed to be doing. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the Vice President smile at you in any capacity, anyway, except for maybe one or two slightly sarcastic smiles that are probably more fit to be classified as grimaces. “What do you want?” 

“I’ve been looking all over for you, sir,” you say, stiffly and a little quietly because you still don’t want to embarrass him in front of the slightly confused barista. “You haven’t answered my texts.”

You don’t have any way to check, but you’re pretty sure this is a safe enough assumption, which is corroborated by the Vice President bringing his phone out and checking the screen lazily before turning it back off. 

“Sorry. I don’t answer unknown numbers.”

You guess it makes sense that he wouldn’t want to save your number when he hates hearing about work, which is all you really try to communicate with him about, but it still stings considering it’s been two years and you’ve been using the same number since high school. It’s fine, you think. You really can’t expect much from him. 

“Well, your father’s been looking for you, too. He wants to meet you.”

“I’ll take a rain check, but thank you.”

“Sir,” your voice quivers with poorly quelled exasperation. “This isn’t an optional thing. This is very serious.” 

“I can see that, Briar Rose,” his eyes are trained towards your shoes, still dangling from your grasp, with a level of unabashed amusement. “Did he summon me from deep within the woods, or is this a new casual Friday look I should get in on?”

When his words are met with a stony silence, he sighs, pushing himself off the counter. His half-finished Americano is collecting a small pool of condensation under it, and you offer him the little handful of tissues you had gotten from the return counter and had originally been planning to use to wipe your tears in case you cried after getting fired so that he doesn’t waste time looking for something to hold his cup. He takes them without even a word of thanks, opting to instead say ‘lead the way, miss.’ You don’t miss the fact that he meets the barista’s eye with a considerably more genuine grin, raising a hand in goodbye to her before he strides ahead — before you even get a chance to lead the way at all — towards the elevators with you, hobbling on one foot to slip your shoe back on, not far behind. 

The President’s office must be sort of soundproof for instances like this. For the first time, you’ve been asked to wait outside with Head Secretary Son as the Vice President gets chewed. It doesn’t matter; you don’t really want to be in the middle of yet another round of shouting that has nothing to do with you in the same afternoon, plus you also know how the conversation usually goes: the President making very agitated threats and talking about his heart condition (even though the medical reports from their private doctor say he’s in perfect health) that the Vice President, who just spends the time looking boredly at his nails, will inevitably trigger. When you press your ear to the door for a minute, you actually hear something like ‘... strike you out of the will so that when you kill me, you won’t get a single won!’, and you can imagine Vice President Na’s exasperated sigh punctuating the statement. 

Ten minutes later, the room has gone quiet, and you step aside just in time for the Vice President to open the door and step out. You don’t even understand how he can look so unaffected after being ripped apart, but you suppose he’s also heard the lecture as many times as you have and is pretty much immune to all the insults. He doesn’t really have to make a show out of not caring, though, with his hands in his pockets and his lips pursed to allow him to whistle idly as he strolls down the hall to his barely used office. He’s been in it so few times that after long, inexplicable vacations, he sometimes forgets how to get there. You’ve always had to walk behind him just in case he gets lost or, worse, tries to make a run for it. You’ve never had to tackle him to the ground reciting the Miranda warnings, or anything, but he has faked left a few times just to give you a mild heart attack for the fun of it all. 

This time, he just walks, not bothering to joke you into trying to create a human wall he could just as easily push away. When he gets to his office, he lazily plops down onto his couch, extracting the Rubik’s cube he’d been working on for a few weeks now from underneath himself and spinning the top layer idly. He’s only ever finished the blue side. 

You just stand there, kind of perplexed and unsure of how to start the conversation. He’s still whistling, and you’re not sure if talking over him will count as interrupting him, which isn’t something you’re supposed to do. Thankfully, he stops after about two minutes of fiddling with the yellow side of the cube, looking up at you with a slightly surprised expression that somehow makes you want to cry. 

“Can I help you with something, Secretary ___________?” 

“Well, I…” You stutter for a bit, unsure of how to politely point out that he should be asking you for help with his job instead of the whole other way around. “Because… I just thought…”

“You can always leave a message with my secretary if you need time to figure it out.” He grins. “Oh, wait a minute.”

“Sir, don’t you think you should… I don’t know. Figure out your schedule, or something? Prepare for… anything?” 

“What’s that smell?” He lifts his nose to the air, suddenly curious, and because he looks so serious, you also start sniffing, but you can’t really smell anything out of the ordinary. “Smells… fresh. Very clean. A little like green tea.”

“Oh.” You awkwardly shift your weight from leg to leg. “I think that’s my perfume, but I don’t see w—”

“You smell very expensive, Secretary _____________.” He sounds genuinely surprised that you do, like he’s somehow saying he hadn’t expected you to have good taste. You have no idea where this conversation is coming from, so you chalk it up to him wanting to derail you from talking about work. “I like it. Very classy. Not too strong.”

“Sir, I don’t think now’s the time to be talking about perfume scents.”

“You’re actually quite pretty.” He sounds genuinely surprised again, but this time, it stings a little more. “I never noticed that before. How come?” 

You want to say that it’s because he spends most of his time and energy playing long-term hide-and-seek with you, but there’s also no polite way of putting that into words; even if there were, with the way you’re now bristling under his gaze, you’re not really sure you’d go the courteous route, anyway. You just decide to ignore the comment and question entirely, which you almost get to do.

“Wouldn’t you like to take a look at some of our upcoming projects? For instance, we’re just about to start negotiating the terms of this new partnership with Huawei —”

“You’re pretty, but you’re also pretty tense.” He cuts you off again, now looking a little dejected at this newfound information. You can’t understand why this disappointment in you actually hurts your feelings a little. “I think the cafe downstairs serves some tea, if that kind of stuff helps you.”

“Sir,” the one syllable is laced with weariness, and you knot  your fingers together in front of your lap. It probably looks polite, but it’s mostly so that you can feel like you have some semblance of control over anything, even if it’s just your own body fighting off the urge to grab him by the collar. “Please. If you could just take a look at your schedule — even just for tomorrow —”

“What’s the point?” His shrug is nonchalant, and he’s turning the cube over in his palm now, more interested in looking at it than witnessing your tired expression. “It’s almost six o’clock. I’ll deal with tomorrow tomorrow, you know what I mean? If my dad finally loses his marbles, I’ll deal with it all then. In fact, I might actually be okay with losing this department if it finally actually gets him off my back. I’ll also deal with that when it happens, probably.” 

Another long, uncomfortable silence blooms as his words sink in; not for the first time today, President Na has threatened the existence of your job, now alongside a good twenty other people’s, all for the sake of snapping some sense into the Vice President. However, like everything else, it seems to just be backfiring; Vice President Na doesn’t seem to care about anyone else in this department, most likely because he’s barely interacted with anyone else. You’re surprised he even remembers your last name, considering he once called the department accountant ‘Heejin’ even though her nametag clearly spelled out ‘Jinhee.’ 

It makes sense that the threat of abolishment means absolutely nothing to him, but it doesn’t make the knowledge of that any less distressing. He watches you curiously as you tug back at your ponytail, like it’ll once again stop the crawling migraine. 

“Sure a cup of chamomile tea isn’t in the cards today? I think I have the company card in here somewhere, although I can’t be sure that it hasn’t been cut off, based on my dad’s last threat—” 

“I’m fine; thank you.” You mumble, checking the clock. He’s wasted what’s left of the hour anyway, and the lack of change in his position just means he’s not going to change his mind for the rest of the time. “At least let me give you tomorrow’s agenda.” 

“Boring, but okay. Give it to me, then.” He yawns to make a point, and you offer him the tablet you tote around with you everywhere you go, just in case Vice President Na finally decides he wants to do his job. To clarify: that’s two whole years of you carrying that heavy thing around, with the Vice President only having touched it a handful of times. You’re mildly shocked that he actually opens it to check, because he barely does even that, but that all goes away when he yawns again, his expression glassy as he scrolls down aimlessly. “This is a lot. Can’t you just clear my schedules tomorrow? Actually, if I can make demands for real, I’d like to clear out my schedule for the rest of the year.” 

He stretches when he stands, ignoring your slightly agog expression as he pats you on the back, smacking his lips sleepily. “Good day’s work, Secretary _____________. Want to grab a beer? Have ourselves a little intra-department party? I’m pretty sure ‘intra’ stands for ‘us two,’ or am I wrong?”

You sincerely hope he doesn’t mean a goodbye party, but with his attitude right now, that might very well be. You shake your head, and he shrugs, like he wasn’t really expecting you to agree in the first place. “No thank you, sir. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He’s already halfway out the door, waving dismissively with his back turned to you. When you peek out of the space he leaves by opening the door, you can see about half the entire department’s watching, not even bothering to pretend to scurry back to their seats as he saunters out of the office. He calls out to you, his voice ringing clear even though he’s already out of sight. 

“We’ll see about that.” 

You come up with a master plan, but not before you scope potential jobs. 

You actually stayed an hour overtime at your desk looking for positions, but all of them pay lower than average or are about an hour’s commute away from where you live, so none of them seem worth it. The search ends when some people from the department come over to say goodbye and see your computer open to SaramIn, at which point they connect the dots and start to panic about their insurance. You shut your monitor off and spend another useless twenty minutes calming Jinhee, who’d started having a mild panic attack. 

In that time, your resentment builds. Why can’t Vice President Na simply get his act together? You suppose that there’s some indescribable burden to being in his position, but between him, a rich heir who owns two sports cars and lives in a paid-for house, and you, a public-transport-using, pays-by-the-month nine-to-five worker, you can’t really understand why he would be having it worse than everyone else who works under him.  If he worked even just half as hard as everyone else did here, he might scrape by. 

You can’t know if President Na’s anger was only short-lived or if he actually meant to downsize the company by getting rid of your department entirely, but you also know that if he’s serious, then there’s nothing much you can do about it, short of terrorizing the Vice President into stepping into bigger shoes.

So, that becomes your master plan.

It isn’t very refined, mostly because you think about it on the bus home, but the heart and spirit are there, and those are probably the most important things anyway. It’s that heart and spirit that motivate you to get up an hour earlier than you usually do, dressing quickly for the day before taking the company car from your place to downtown Apgujeong. You usually don’t take it on days that Vice President Na doesn’t come into work, which is practically every other day, but this time, you’re determined to see him into the office. The ride with Hyunsung, his official company driver, is quiet, save for the question he asks when you roll up to the Vice President’s driveway. 

“Are you sure about this?” 

“No,” you admit. He’d probably seen you chewing down on your thumb, some of your confidence taking a hit when you belatedly realize you could be shot with a huge privacy lawsuit if this doesn’t go the way you plan. But you do know a lot of secretaries that do the morning calls for their superiors, so this should be fine. Not that you’ve ever heard from those secretaries ever again. 

Vice President Na’s laziness seems to extend to all aspects of his life, including the fact that he doesn’t ever change his door’s passcode; it’s still the same numbers as it had been when he first bought the house a year ago and had you install his lock while he was missing in action from work, yakking it up with some farmers up in the Netherlands. He likes to do that — ‘see the world,’ or whatever, even though his wanderlust makes everyone else’s lives very difficult. At least it makes your life easy now, and you step through the door and walk quietly across his unnecessarily large living room. 

You’ve never been in here exactly, and you only realize very belatedly that this house’s design would be very frustrating for a break-and-enter criminal because nothing seems to be where it’s supposed to be. You learn the owner’s suite is actually on the basement floor, so all the climbing of those slippery stairs was for nothing. 

Vice President Na’s bedroom is bigger than your whole apartment, which also means he has a sizable bed and, thus, is completely out of sight under his gigantic covers. The only indication that he’s even still in there is that they’re rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern. You stand by the edge of the bed, on the side he’s closest to falling off of, clearing your throat at the tuft of hair peeking out from under the comforter. 

“Vice President Na? It’s time to go to work.” 

Your voice has been tempered down by years of this professional work, and this is easily the loudest and most demanding you’ve ever heard it. You’re not even sure you can do it again, but the muffled groan from under the covers is all the motivation you need to try. 

“Sir, you have a ten o’clock meeting with Samsung’s representatives for Apple. President Na also asked that we contact Amazon right away to reschedule the Prime Video deal.” 

“How,” his voice comes out first before he does, squinting up at you, completely disoriented. “The hell did you get in here?” 

“Sir, I’m your secretary.” You sigh, skimming over the fact that you’d walked into his big kitchen twice through two different entryways before coming into his bedroom. “I’m supposed to be able to get in here.”

“Except this is a first.” You think he’s about to get up, but he just shifts his weight, rolling over so he can cocoon himself tighter into his blankets. “Goodnight. There are eggs in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

“I’ve already eaten, like a normal, functioning human being with a very important job that starts precisely at nine o’clock would.” 

“This seems like a very targeted comment, Secretary ____________. I’m not sure I appreciate it.” 

“Since we’re already having this conversation, I’m guessing you’re conscious enough to get dressed.”

To your relief, he actually does throw the covers off of him, leaning up on his elbows. You try not to balk at the fact that he’s shirtless, although you’re also not sure why this should surprise or bother you to begin with. He doesn’t even seem to mind; he just yawns, wide and unashamed, as he looks over at the clock. 

“It’s seven-thirty. This is insanity.”

“No, this is a wake-up call.” You offer him a neatly folded towel that he eyes suspiciously. “We need to get you in the office on time.”

“There’s really no point,” he sighs, scratching his head idly. “It’ll just be another boring day of talking to people I don’t care about. Someone who cares about it should talk to them. You care about it, don’t you?” 

“I won’t talk to them for you, sir.”

“Why not?”

“Because, frankly, I don’t get paid enough to be doing that.” 

He once again stares at the towel like he’s trying to will it to evaporate, but in the end, he only sighs louder and takes it from you, kicking his blankets off completely. You look up at the ceiling, not in prayer but to avoid the more embarrassing fact that he’s only in his boxers after all. Well — it’s embarrassing for you. He doesn’t even seem to care. 

“Something’s different.”

“Usually I don’t wake you up,” you offer the painfully obvious. “Or come here. Or talk to you.”

“Yeah, all that stuff,” he says dismissively, halfway through a yawn. “Did you have a life-changing experience recently?”

“Something like that.”

“Couldn’t it have been one where you decided to leave me alone for good instead?” He grumbles, more to himself instead of to you. It doesn’t matter, anyway; you already see he’s up and fishing socks out of his drawer, so you’re marching out of his room to avoid having to hear more of his complaints (and, quite frankly, to avoid looking at his broad back). 

However, the day thereafter doesn’t go as planned. You thought that waking Vice President Na up for an early day of work might shock him into doing something with the knowledge that it was urgent, but you’re not sure why you didn’t anticipate a scenario in which he’d fall asleep in the car on the way to work and you’d have to shake him into waking in the stuffy parking lot. He spends the rest of the morning out of sorts, ignoring you point blank when you try to brief him on the meeting. The meeting in and of itself doesn’t go any better, with him excusing himself fifteen minutes in by saying the pitch doesn’t seem all too exciting and innovative. You didn’t even know he knew the word innovative and, by the shocked faces of the Samsung people, they were of the same mind. 

By lunch time, you’re more exhausted than you’ve ever been, and a part of you is wondering why you wanted Vice President Na in the office in the first place when you’re already used to the much simpler routine of get up, work, eat lunch, get yelled at, work again. Sometimes, on slow days when Vice President Na is completely out of town for the week and President Na is out of things to yell at you about, you even get to just sit back at your desk and play old crossword puzzles. 

Now, you’re basically handholding him, but the weight that keeps him down is so heavy that you’re being dragged down, too. 

“You mean people do this every single day?” He shuts the folder with a contract that requires his signature that you’d given him just now, not even bothering to peruse the first page, much to your rapidly increasing ire. “This is ridiculous. Working makes no sense.”

“All employees come to work to do that, sir. It’s literally what makes up half their lives.”

“Except it shouldn’t,” he sighs, like this is a true global issue and not a problem of his own making. “Everyone needs to be able to do what they want and live life to the fullest.” 

“Not everyone can,” you point out flatly. “Some people don’t have the luxury of time even for that.”

“Then, they should. The more I’m in this situation, the more it feels like it might be better for everyone to have a little work break for — I don’t know. The next year or so.”

Vice President Na has his arm outstretched, handing the folder back to you. You don’t know if it’s what he says that causes your blood pressure to rise, or if its the completely unconcerned look on his face, or if it’s the fact that he’s holding the folder so lazily that the papers are starting to slip out on your end, requiring you to use two hands to keep them all from falling apart and creating a mess you’ll end up having to clean up anyway. Whatever it is, you snatch the folder from him with a little more aggression than necessary (or that you’d even care to admit). Even though it’s out of place, you can’t help but feel a small sense of triumph at the slight surprise in his eyes. 

“Did I say something wrong?” 

“No, sir.” You pause, mostly because you can tell he doesn’t believe you — Vice President Na is nonchalant, not stupid — and you want to give yourself a little bit of time to grapple with your pride before you admit the truth. “Yes, sir. It isn’t fair to your entire department for you to talk that way.”

“I’m saying the entire department doesn’t have to work this hard. It’s senseless. How are you supposed to live a good life if all you’re doing is sitting behind a desk?”

“Like I said, not everyone has the luxury of living your life. If they want even a little bit of that comfort you enjoy, they have to work very hard for it first.” 

“Then they should at least do something they enjoy. If this department goes down the drain —”

“If this department is abolished,” this is your first time interrupting a superior, and it already makes you want to throw up. “Then people will have a very difficult time finding a job in this market. More than that, a lot of people enjoy working for this company — quite genuinely, in fact. I don’t think it’s right to think that they’ll be happy while they’re jobless and floundering in this economy.”

“So you’re happy like this? You really want this job — this whole working under me situation?” 

“Well…” you trail off, your voice taking on a slightly thoughtful tone. It’s been a relatively long time since you’d entered this job, but you do faintly remember the feeling of excitement at getting this position — the desire to want to learn from the best in this industry, the anticipation of being able to meet and network with interesting and important people. Your first few weeks of work had involved wanting to spend as much time in Vice President Na’s shadow, in case you could pick up some important business tidbits from an entrepreneurial master… until, of course, you realized there wasn’t much you could stand in the shadow of to begin with. “These days, it isn’t ideal. But this job is a really good thing for most of the people who work here.”

“Then it sounds like you have more to gain from me working hard than I do.” 

You can’t contain your disapproving frown, and your voice comes out a little sharper than you intend. “Doesn’t it bother you at all, sir? Knowing almost twenty people could lose their jobs in the blink of an eye? Think about all the people who look up to you and rely on you — they’ll have to suffer because of this. They might never find a job that matches their needs, and a lot of them have families to take care of, too. If you can do something to make sure they have these good lives you keep talking about, why not do it? I know you’re capable of that. You’re capable of doing much more than what you’ve been doing thus far.” 

Vice President Na is quiet for a moment before leans over on his desk, lacing his fingers into a loose combined fist and putting his weight on his forearms. One of his forefingers detangles itself from the pile of digits and curls inwards, beckoning you closer. Your grimace is probably obvious, and you lean in a little warily. He lifts himself off his chair slightly so he can whisper in a low voice, as if you two aren’t the only people in this wide office. 

“If you care about it so much, then ask a little more nicely.” 

Your light breakfast almost makes a reappearance, and you draw back in mild shock. He also leans back, significantly more relaxed than you, looking unperturbed as he settles back against his chair. You two engage in a very uneven staring match, until he gestures for you to proceed, looking expectant. 

“You want me to beg for my job?”

“Not what I meant, but I could accept that,” he hums. “I just think you could throw in a please while you’re guilting your boss, at least.”

Gawking probably doesn’t suit you, but you do it anyway, wondering how you managed to find yourself in this position. This morning, you had been strictly guiding him through what to do, and now you’re paralyzed in front of the Vice President, feeling very foolish for saying so much out of turn. You couldn’t even get through a whole work day before seeing your grand master plan slip down the drain.

But there is, at least, some small comfort in what he said — the part about guilting, which, if you squint hard enough, seems to be implying that this conversation has left him with a small amount of guilt. You don’t think it’s that much, but it’s a miracle he feels it at all, so you take the horribly subtle win and inhale deeply.

“Please, sir.” The words are very thick and reluctant, unsticking from your throat. “This department really needs you.” 

He stares, very unnervingly, without saying anything, but there’s something in his gaze that makes you vaguely certain he’s actually thinking about it. In fact, he actually looks a bit serious, which isn’t anything you’d ever think you’d be able to characterize him by. That impression easily falls apart when he claps his hands, once but very loudly, startling you into jumping a little. 

“Ah, how could I turn down such a nice request?” Vice President Na is grinning from ear to ear, something you’ve never seen him do in the context of the office, much less a few feet away from you. His smile is actually kind of nice, if you don’t think about the fact that it seems to be smug at your expense. “Since you asked, I guess I’ll have to try my best, or whatever it is people do in this damn company. I guess that means you owe me now, Secretary ____________. You’re very welcome.” 

The silence that once again blooms as you stand, motionless, in front of Vice President Na is suddenly interrupted by the sound of chairs scraping back all at once. The floor vibrates a little as the entire department troops out to the elevator area so they can go to lunch. You only watch stupidly as he also stands, shrugging off his jacket and flinging it over the back of his chair. “See you, then.”

“Where are you going, sir?” 

He looks a little surprised that you even ask. “To lunch. Do I have to ask for your permission for that, too?” 

“Are you… coming back?”

“You want to come along with me and make sure I don’t run away?” He smiles even wider, which you didn’t even think was possible. It makes you awkwardly uncomfortable to know he’s taking a lot of pleasure in joking around with you, mostly because you were kind of hoping you’d get him to take things seriously in a serious manner, not in a … whatever this is that’s making you feel like you’ve lost a game manner. 

“A little bit.”

“Ask a little more nicely, then.” 

“Never mind,” you mumble. “Have a good lunch, sir.” 

He snaps his fingers a little comically before turning to the door, flinging it open so he can join the now thinning throng of people leaving the floor. “Thought I almost had you there. Well, if you need me, you know where to find me. Or not.” 

In the end, to your utmost relief, Vice President Na does, in fact, stay inside the entire time he has lunch. You’re not sure if this is the product of you sitting two tables away, trying to will an imaginary chain to his wrist so he doesn’t bolt off or because he’s still feeling a little affected by everything you said earlier on, but whatever it is, it works. He just eats his club sandwich in peace, picking off the crust easily and double dipping the fries that come with it in his ketchup. At some point, he looks up and notices you burning holes into his torso, so you quickly have to avert your eyes in shame. You think he laughs at this, but you can only see out of your peripheral vision at this point, so you can’t be sure. 

You’re supposed to have one hour for lunch, but he eats quickly and gets up before the whole hour is over, so you end up throwing your half-eaten wrap and following him. Again, you’re not sure what’s funny, but he’s chuckling to himself as he holds the elevator door open, waiting for you to run in next to him. 

“Relax, miss secretary. I already said I was going to do my best.”

“No offense, sir, but I don’t know what that looks like, so I have to be careful.”

“Fair enough.” He hums, letting the door close on its own. “But you should still take it easy. You’re pretty t—”

“Tense. You said so yesterday, sir.”

“That’s two times you’ve cut me off in a single day.” He doesn’t sound very annoyed about it; in fact, he’s still got that amused, inside joke tone to everything he’s had all morning. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were gunning for an insubordination report.”

You don’t think that’s fair for him to say, especially since you haven’t really had much of an authority figure to be subordinate to for most of your career in this company, but you keep your mouth shut since saying so is exactly what would be on the first line of an insubordination report. 

When you arrive back at his office, you take the time to discuss what you should be doing from now on. It’s an extremely messy exchange, with you two grappling between terms you can’t agree on. For instance, Vice President Na thinks that it seems only fair that he should really only be coming in after one o’clock, but you’re insistent on making sure he gets to work on time, since most important meetings happen within that time period (a fact he already seems to know but chooses to ignore anyway). You end up agreeing on bringing him in for the standard nine-to-six for as long as he never has to work overtime. You also find it necessary to iron out the fact that if he has lunch outside, he has to actually come back, a statement he once again finds very amusing for some reason, as if you’re the weird one in this conversation. 

And to his credit, he tries to stick to his word. It isn’t exactly a walk in the park, especially not during the first couple of weeks, but you suppose that habits are very difficult to break when they’ve been so easy to acquire and nurture over many years. More than once, you’ve arrived late to meetings to the disapproving gazes of Head Secretary Son and President Na. However, the latter finds he has less to say these days because Vice President Na’s presence in said meetings had, before this time, been nothing but a pipe dream for everyone. 

You also notice he starts taking the time to ask about things he doesn’t understand, as opposed to his initially brash or sometimes completely unresponsive approach, which has turned out better results when it comes to business lunches with investors and potential partners. Even the Samsung people, who are extremely wary of him during the callback meeting, come out of their next encounter with the Vice President looking vaguely more satisfied than they did the last time (the bar isn’t that high, considering they’d left shell-shocked previously, but you’ll still take the improvement).

Of course, with all the time you end up spending with, chasing after, and vaguely lecturing (only when the need truly arises) Vice President Na, you also learn some things about him that you hadn’t expected, like how he doesn’t really like milk in anything he drinks (but especially coffee) and that every third Sunday of the month, he meets his old high school friend Lee Jeno, the son of the guy that owns half the residential high rise condominiums on this side of the Han. Apparently, they play badminton together — he had told you that when he’d caught you wondering about the super out of place little kid’s karate trophy among other more adult, official ones in his living area. The trophy goes to whoever wins the match of the month, and according to the Vice President, he’s been ‘wiping the floor with that bastard’s handsome face for half a year straight.’ Although you can’t verify this by anything more than the slight blanket of dust on it, you think it takes nothing out of your pride to applaud him like this is an amazing thing. It also does you no harm to see him swell with misplaced pride about a kid’s karate trophy. 

You also notice that despite how healthily he eats at the office, he has a bad habit of craving deep fried food in the afternoon, which is why, over the last few weeks, you’ve been accompanying him to the corndog street stall two blocks away, a few days a week. He’s even had to borrow loose change from you a few times to because he always forgets that no street vendor likes to receive crisp, fresh-out-of-the-bank fifty-thousand won bills, but you just let him have it; his heart’s in the right place when he orders an extra one for you without even asking. You realize that he has a fairly good memory for as long as he’s concentrating, and that he likes to spend late nights watching the shittiest horror movies ever known to man (his words, much to your bemusement), and that when he listens attentively to you telling him about the day’s agenda, his left ear twitches a little when your voice hits it. 

Somewhere along the way, you realize that Vice President Na is a charming, outgoing, and fairly capable person, and in doing so, you also realize that he seems to be, for lack of a better word, your style. 

You can’t really believe it either, and you’re not even sure when it started. In between sitting with him in the company car and handing him forty-page agreements he has to look over carefully (very carefully, as you’ve taken to reminding him, so often that he starts saying it before you do now, which has only somehow endeared him further to you and not annoyed you the way you were sort of hoping it would), the small non-work related part of your consciousness had decided that it needed a more complicated situation now that things were going relatively well.

To be fair to yourself, liking him isn’t a huge distraction; most of the time, you’re both so engrossed in something you desperately have to finish that you don’t even have time to think about it. Instead, it kind of catches you off-guard, like when he’s double dipping his french fries into his ketchup, or when he smiles at you (politely to him, probably, but overwhelmingly charmingly to you) before he leaves the office, or when his brow’s furrowed in (a total shocker) concentration as he reads. 

Then again, everything about Vice President Na seems to be catching you off-guard these days. This much is proven by the fact that instead of the normal silence that you’ve grown accustomed to being greeted by when you enter his house, there’s a lot of noise coming from one area that can only mean either that someone had broken in to mug him or for some reason, he’s up before you need to wake him. 

It’s nothing you have to call 911 for, but it still paralyzes you to see him, surrounded by opened jars and a particularly dirty bread knife as he stands in front of his fancy toaster, drumming his fingers on the counter impatiently. 

“If you have a minute to spare, could you bring my laptop into the car?” He asks without turning around. His hand, still holding the bread knife, points towards the bar counter on the far end of the kitchen, where the laptop is still whirring away. 

“Of course, sir. Um,” you gingerly shut the monitor, putting the laptop to sleep and tucking it under your arm. “Were you… working this morning?”

“No, I was playing a riveting game of bridge against the computer AI.” He turns to you, grinning. “Of course I was working, miss secretary. What do you think I’d be up this early for?” 

You try to think of an answer, but nothing comes to mind — Vice President Na hasn’t ever woken up early for anything to your knowledge, anyway — so you just nod and bolt, unwilling to bear witness to his smile this early in the day. When you come back, particularly less red in the face, you find him topping one of two sandwiches with the last slice of bread to complete it. He takes one, as you expect he would, and you stand there, trying to look polite as you essentially observe him eat.

This isn’t something very unusual; ever since the first time you’d done it, you’ve been watching him out of habit. So far, only the motivation’s changed from you wanting to make sure he doesn’t bolt to you simply enjoying the view of his profile when he eats. Of course, he probably doesn’t know this, but he’s also just gotten used to you watching him and probably finds it funny — as suggested by his perpetually amused expression — that you still think, after all this time, that he’s going to make a run for it. You don’t actually mind it; you get to watch him for free, and he has something to laugh about, so everyone kind of wins. 

He’s halfway through the sandwich when his expression turns quizzical. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“Eat,” you echo hollowly. “Eat what, sir?”

“A delicious, handmade, gourmet peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich.” When you don’t move, he pushes the plate with the untouched sandwich forward towards you like he thinks you can’t understand anything he’s saying. “What? Are you allergic to something?”

“No, but…”

“But?”

There’s no but; you don’t have a good reason to decline other than the fact that accepting it feels weird, but refusing him when he’s looking at you this expectantly is just as awkward. You rub the back of your neck as you walk over, not missing the look of triumph that crosses his face as you pick up the sandwich and take a bite. It’s good, but you don’t really think that has anything to do with his culinary skills, based on what it is; still, he looks like he’s patting himself on the back for this feat. 

“Thank you, sir.”

“Secretary ____________, I hope you can count this as a momentous occasion for the both of us.” He chuckles. “You get free breakfast made especially for you by your direct superior in the comfort of his own home, and I finally get to learn what all the settings on my toaster are for. Between you and me, I think mine’s the better achievement.” 

You’re still in the middle of eating when you laugh, and you hastily raise a hand to cover it — only Vice President Na catches your wrist halfway through, so quickly you vaguely choke on the bread that’s only partially down your throat.

“I’ve never seen you laugh,” he looks as surprised as you feel, although probably for a different reason. “I don’t even think you’ve ever smiled at me, specifically.”

“Oh.” You need time to respond, mostly so you can swallow but also because you need to collect yourself from your shock. There seems to be a lot of that going around this morning. “Sorry. Should I do that more often?”

“I mean, if you ask like that, it’s kind of disingenuous,” he laughs. “But I like it. I like knowing you’re not just in a constant state of stress because of me. Feels even more momentous than the toaster thing.” 

He loosens his hold, and you manage to take your hand back, now refusing to meet his eye. “I’m not… stressed by you.”

“Not anymore.”

“Not anymore,” you agree, and he looks particularly delighted when he sees the corners of your lips turn up again. “Not for a while. And not that my opinion matters, but you’ve been performing above expectations, sir.”

“You’re right,” he hums, taking the plate and putting it in the sink — a problem he seems to be saving for later. “It doesn't matter. But I like it, all the same.”

You’re willing to chalk the morning off as a wonderful anomaly, especially since the rest of it passes as it normally does, with a generally quiet car ride (you’ve also learned that Vice President Na likes to listen to rap music on days when he wants to avoid falling asleep in the backseat, which is equal parts amazing and amusing) and a fifteen minute briefing of what he has on his plate today. He disappears for the better part of the morning and even the whole lunch hour, but you expect this because he has a business lunch with the representatives for some Norwegian appliance company that’s looking to break into the Korean market. You can’t imagine many people want a state of the art rice cooker alongside their monthly internet bill, but it’s polite for him to go anyway, and the prospective partner seems very on edge about company secrets. It’s one of those meetings you aren’t allowed to come along to, which means that you’re missing out on a few hours of Vice President Na trying to iron details out with a couple of old guys. 

While you eat, you’re once again struck with the random notion that it feels weird not to be around the Vice President. You’ve been working together regularly and in a very close capacity, which basically means that you’re always in his shadow. It’s the life you were kind of hoping to have at the beginning and were deprived of for a good two years. Now that you have it, it feels weirdly natural — so natural that it’s unnatural to not have his voice ordering you around in that easy tone or his aftershave lingering in the air directly above you. 

You throw the tissue you used to wipe the oil from your egg toast off your mouth onto the table, crumpled and wilted. 

You miss him, which is ridiculous considering you don’t even know what there is to miss. Your relationship, while admittedly lightyears ahead of the starting point it had been at back then (again, not a great standard, considering you didn’t even have a relationship before this period of time), is nothing close to the point of being what it should be for one to miss the other. 

And yet, you look forward to seeing him, watching him do something from afar, helping him whenever he needs you. You like the fact that he still sometimes fakes left when you’re accompanying him back to his office, and you do this thing where you pretend to be annoyed even though it makes you happy to know he won’t go anywhere. You like the little sounds he makes when he eats his super unhealthy corndog as if he’s eating it for the first time every single time (see: very unnerving and slightly disturbing but altogether amusing mmmmmmmmmms). In fact, if you didn’t have a vivid memory of telling him off from way back then, you feel like you could easily convince yourself that things had always been like this — that you two had always been together, happily at work. 

You’re not surprised that he isn’t back from his meeting even when you get back to your desk after lunch, but you do feel a pang of dejectedness that lasts for a few more hours — time which you spend lazily looking over a contract he’d signed yesterday that needs a fair amount of amending and re-signing. It’s hard to pretend to care today, for some reason, especially since your mind keeps going back to peanut butter sandwiches and some ridiculous vision of Vice President Na standing in the middle of your tiny studio apartment’s kitchen area. 

Your reverie’s broken when an envelope falls onto your desk, covering the page of the contract you’d been glassily staring at for the last hour and a half. You’d drawn the same circle about twenty times already, and the paper’s all dented from your efforts. When you look up, Vice President Na is staring down at you, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Miss me?” He drums the envelope, the paper muffling the noise of it all. “Oh? I was joking, but it looks like you actually did. That’s twice in a single day, Secretary ____________. You’re setting a very high record.”

You try to tamp down the smile on your face upon seeing him, clearing your throat so that you have an excuse to press your lips together. You guess it doesn’t work because he just keeps smiling, anyway, or maybe he’s just in a really good mood. “Did your meeting go well, sir?” 

“Is Lotteria the national fastfood chain? Too bad I don’t work for anyone because it kind of feels like I deserve some kind of reward.”

“Could we say that this partnership is its own reward?” 

“It doesn’t have the same ring to it,” he sighs. Once again, his forefinger taps the envelope, calling your attention a little more clearly to it. “I know we’re on a tight schedule for this, and I hate to ask this so late of you, but —”

“Of course, sir; I’ll have it in your hands first thing tomorrow.” 

You’re already gathering it up along with your other (vaguely unfinished) paperwork when his whole palm comes down, trapping the envelope and everything else you’d been intending to carry under it. Your hands go up like you’re being held at gunpoint, your eyes wide. 

“On second thought,” Vice President Na muses, a little too serene for someone who’d just scared the living daylights out of someone else. “How about I take care of the Samsung deal you’re looking over, and you can handle the Norwegian contract?”

“I haven’t… really made a lot of headway with it, if I’m being honest.” You’re hoping he doesn’t ask you why because you’re too embarrassed to come up with a lie on the spot and will inevitably have to confess your random attraction to him under these terrible circumstances if he does. Luckily, he just shrugs.

“All the more reason to split the work, then.”

The still mildly stern part of you is begging to point out that he’s giving you a whole new set of documents to look over anyway, so it’s not even like you’ll have less to do, but the larger, more endeared part of you tells it to shut up and mind its own business. “I thought the crux of our agreement was that you’d never have to work overtime.”

“Because I look like such a stickler for the rules, don’t I?” He snorts, waving you in with the same envelope, and you concede.

Working next to Vice President Na isn’t anything new to you; you’ve been doing it everyday for a while now, especially if he needs you to be quick on call. Ever since you’ve realized his presence makes your heart beat a little faster, you’ve promised yourself not to let that fact show at all when he’s around, something you’ve been quite careful about perfecting. 

Something’s different, though, when it’s after official hours. Maybe it’s because the floor is quieter than it is during the day, so there’s nothing you can listen to but the sound of pen scratching on paper and Vice President Na’s steady breathing. The only real interruption is when Hyunsung knocks on the door to ask if the Vice President is going home; the look on his face is panicked and confused, like a puppy that’s just been dropped off at the mouth of a dumpster site, when he’s told that Vice President Na will drive himself home, so he can just leave the keys. 

Maybe it’s also because it’s pretty dark outside, and while you’ve worked into the night a few times, it’s usually alone or with some other poor sap that has even more backlog than you do — it’s never been just you and the Vice President, who seems supremely unperturbed by the fact that he isn’t at home doing… whatever he does at home after work. You can only guess at it (or wish you knew). 

That makes one of you that’s keeping busy, although you know it should be two. The fact that you’re distracted by his presence all of a sudden is only exacerbated by the mutually exclusive headache that the paperwork you’re looking over gives you. You don’t know why you had expected it to be in Korean, but you and your intermediate level English struggle to keep up with all the little things you have to look through. Sometimes, you can’t tell if the clauses are actually confusing or if you’re just the poor product of your middle school education. It strikes you more than once that Vice President Na had gone through this, somehow, himself — talked to people in a completely different language, probably with ease. You can at least be proud of yourself for being right: for as long as the Vice President puts his mind to something, he’s able to do it — perhaps even well. 

What shocks you after an eternity of silence is the hand that extends towards you, forefinger lightly nudging your chin. You sit up straight like a bolt of lighting had gone through you, meeting Vice President Na’s thoroughly and inexplicably amused expression. Your jaw slackens in shock, but his finger just stays there, like it isn’t invading your personal space. Like it just belongs there.

“What are you doing?”

“What—” you splutter, bemused at the fact that you hadn’t asked the question first. “What are you doing?”

“You keep moving your mouth. What — are you praying or something?”

“No, I —-” You gesture at the contract page you’ve been trying to stumble through for the past twenty minutes. “No, I’m just… I’m reading?”

“You’re…” The start of a laugh escapes him, and you really don’t know what’s so funny. “You’re reading aloud?”

“I wasn’t making any noise, I think,” you grumble, sounding a little more defensive than you’d care to admit. 

“You read silently aloud, then.” His eyes twinkle at this information, although why it should elicit this reaction also completely escapes you. “Why? Because it helps you memorize it or something?”

“My English isn’t that great,” you admit begrudgingly, suddenly feeling a little exposed. “Sometimes I need to mouth the words to understand it.”

And he does the most outrageous, inexplicable thing: he gently cups your chin, making sure you can’t turn your head to look away in embarrassment. Now you have to look at him, red in the face and close to exploding. 

“Don’t you think that’s a little too much, miss secretary?”

You can’t ask what; your voice isn’t working. You just open and close your mouth around the syllable, and after a couple of attempts, he starts copying you, evidently having a better time than you are based on the grin stretched across his face.

“What? What? That you’re doing something this cute in front of me is what I mean. You’re obviously going overboard, and I don’t think it’s very nice.”

He retracts his hand as quickly as he’d used it to close the distance between you, and your hand immediately comes up in its place, almost cupping your jaw like he did. It definitely doesn’t give you the same tingly feeling, so that’s an obvious bust.

You and Vice President Na have a sudden staring contest with amended rules: you blink a hundred times a minute at him while he laughs quietly, leaning back on his chair like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It confuses you and kind of enrages you, but you also find your heart thumping away in your ears like it’s trying very hard to remind you that Na Jaemin makes you feel alive. 

“I— I just—”

“Coffee? I could use some coffee. You look like you could use some too.” He stands, buttoning his blazer with one hand like he has someplace important to go. You’re still so shell-shocked that you don’t even try to stand up to help him, a fact which he notices very clearly. “Oh no, I’ll do you this favor. You sit tight and read your contract. I’ll be back. Keep doing that cute thing with your mouth.” 

Vice President Na finds you exactly as he left you: still wondering if you should be offended at his teasing or enamored by his touch and, more importantly, what the hell his deal is. You have a million questions that need answering, but the only thing you blubber out when he comes back is “Why?” 

“Because you’re amazingly fun to tease,” he responds simply. “And because it’s true. I find it extremely cute. I find you very cute, Secretary _____________, in a kind of good girl, cool girl kind of way. It’s a little confusing to me too, but I think this slightly stern but overall gentle aesthetic of yours is actually growing on me a little.”

“Sir, I—”

“While we’re taking a break,” he interrupts you. You guess it’s probably the right time for a break considering there’s no way you can work in peace now. “Do you constantly have to call me that?” 

“What else would I call you?”

“My name,” he suggests, taking a sip of coffee. You ignore the shit, that’s hot that comes out of him as he puts the paper cup down gingerly on his desk, looking a little bit betrayed by his drink. “Jaemin. Many people call me that.”

“People who are close to you, you mean. Like your family or… your friends.”

“Are you saying you don’t think we’re close? Or that we aren’t friends?”

“Sir, I work for you.” 

“So by that alone, we simply can’t be friends? Et al?I think you really are being too much now, Secretary ____________.” He folds his arms across his chest, tutting disapprovingly as he leans back on the edge of his desk. You try not to think too hard about the fact that he does it very close to you, at an angle optimal for viewing the leanness of his form. “After all those times you broke into my house—”

“To get you ready for work.”

“— walked into my bedroom—”

“Only whenever necessary—”

“— gone through my things while I’m half naked in bed like you’re trying to organize a charity drive—”

“Because you need to get dressed, not because I have some perverted agenda —”

“—eaten the food off my kitchen counter, too—”

“You told me to!” You get to your feet, the contract slipping from your lap in your enthusiasm to defend yourself. “You offered it to me!”

Whatever happens next is completely out of your control, and you know this because the room spins without you moving by your own will. Vice President Na must have been an expert dancer in his past life, or something, because after that one dizzying moment, you find yourself leaning against the edge of the table he had been just a second ago. Warm hands are on your waist, tucked under your cardigan, the heat bleeding through your shirt. 

And the Vice President’s smile is inches away from your face, still mischievous but much gentler than any other time before. 

You’re not sure if you’re paralyzed or if you just don’t want to move, but the reason doesn’t affect the outcome: all you can do is stare up at him, once again dumbfounded after a small outpouring of words that ends in some kind of forced defeat. Except this particular surrender doesn’t feel so sore, for some reason. 

“Even when you’re angry, you’re still pretty, you know that?”

“I wasn’t… angry,” you mumble under your breath, afraid that talking louder will scare him off. You don’t even think he’s listening all that much to you, considering that all he does is tuck your hair behind your left ear and completely change the topic. 

“So, tell me, Secretary ____________. Is this still a situation where we’re not close at all?” He pauses for a moment, probably to let you answer, but you don’t say anything. You’re pretty sure your swallowing nervously is the only true sound you make. He seems to be eager to do a lot of the talking anyway, which is absolutely fine by you. “Or have I completely misread all your cute little signals?”

“Well — no, but I didn’t send any signals.” Obvious ones, at least. You’d been pretty sure you had tried to keep it under wraps as much as possible, but you’re starting to realize it’s a little possible you’re not as great at pretending as you think you are. 

“Not on purpose, probably. Although you really almost got me with the one-man show vibe you have during lunch hour.”

“I… didn’t think you knew, if I’m being honest.” Honesty is the only thing you have right now, anyway, especially since Vice President Na has pretty much confirmed, in his own way, that he knows about how you feel. Now you can only wonder if he’d noticed before you even came to terms with it yourself, and the thought of that being a real possibility urges you to grab the still-steaming cup of coffee and douse yourself with its contents. 

“For a while, I was pretty sure you were messing with me. I would never,” he adds just as you say it too, mimicking your astounded tone up to the lilt. “Which is why I started thinking about why else you might be looking at me so intently. You weren’t sitting there objectifying me, were you, miss secretary?”

“Sir, I would never,” you repeat, and he mouths the same words again in his amusement, although silently this time. 

“I think I would have been okay with it if you were. Or would be, even until now. For the record.” 

“I wasn’t.” 

“You sure? No shame in it. Totally fine. Not sure about anyone else, but I’m totally okay if someone else thinks I’m eye candy in the privacy of their own minds. I am, I think, a fine specimen of a human, if I do say so myself.”

“I really wasn’t, sir.”

“You should have, then. Lost opportunities.”” 

“I could argue that I was just worried you’d leave and not come back.”

“You know I wouldn’t do that to you,” he hums. “Not anymore, anyway.” 

The ‘to you’ is what stumps you into another silent spell, but this time, Vice President Na doesn’t attempt to fill in the void. He just starts running his eyes over your face, like he’s trying to read something there or maybe memorize your features, or something. At some point, you start thinking about how this kind of silence isn’t exactly uncomfortable, contrary to your expectations and with interesting consideration of the fact that he’s still holding your hips. Apart from the idle skimming of his thumb over the curve of your pelvic bone, he doesn’t move — nearer or closer, which is probably for the best since you don’t know which one you really want more at this point.

Again, when you gather some part of your wits, the only thing you still know how to ask is “Why?”

“Because,” he replies immediately, simply, like the answer has always been very clear and you’ve just been too ignorant to figure it out. “You said that I could, not that I had to.” 

It’s hot. Isn’t it hot? You don’t know what he’s talking about, but your body already reacts on principle, and you have to stand-half-lean there with your entire face burning and Vice President Na’s body heat washing over yours like an electric blanket.

“I don’t know what that means, sir.”

“It means I didn’t do this for my dad or just because you told me off in the comfort of my own office.” He bites down on his lower lip to keep himself from laughing (yet again) at you as he witnesses, from the best seat in the house, your face turning almost purple with the effort of keeping down your embarrassment. “Although that played a bit of a factor in it. I couldn’t tell if it was rude of you to say so much or kind of cute that you did despite knowing you were being rude. But that’s besides the point.”

Good, you think. If he manages to hit you with another cute in this timeframe, you may easily cease to exist. 

“You know firsthand, anyway, what my dad always says. You must take on the responsibility you were born with. You have to do your job. You must remember that you owe your life to my achievements.” He mimics his father’s gruff, booming voice amusingly well, to the point that you can’t stop yourself from laughing. His facade breaks easily, and you think you hear him mumble cute under his breath again, although you choose to ignore it so your knees don’t buckle completely (something that you think would be very embarrassing with you so close to him). “I don’t think he’s ever once said an encouraging word to my face. And if there’s anything I can confidently say I won’t do, it’s doing what people only say I need to do. It’s my life, you know what I mean? I’ll do what I want.” 

“You’re saying you suddenly wanted to work because I said you could?” 

“More like I wanted to see if you were right.” He muses. “I was pretty sure I didn’t have the personality for it. Or the attention span. Or the skill, either.”

“I think a couple of those things are still up in the air, sir.”

“One compliment and you’re already gunning for another insubordination report.” Vice President Na’s voice is a low, casual hum, but you notice the grip around your waist tightens for a brief moment. “At first, I figured I’d just show up to get everyone off my back, but I realized along the way that I’m pretty good at this being at the helm business. I’m sure you’ll agree. Hopefully because you want to, not because you also have to.”

“I do agree.” Your reply is wholehearted, and the Vice President’s smile widens. Your chest swells so much that you think you might explode right in front of him. “Because I want to.”

“Please don’t misunderstand me, miss secretary. I’m not attributing all my successes to your impulsive words.” He teases, although his eyes stay gentle despite his tone. “The efforts were still all mine. However, I’m not too proud to admit I had a very responsible first mate by my side, for whom I am very grateful. Although I hope this doesn’t mean she’ll pluck up the courage to ask for a raise considering how well I pay her. I think. Does she get paid well? Maybe I should ask Park Jinhee from accounting.” 

“She won’t,” you laugh softly, not missing the fact that he’s finally learned her name. “And she’s not really doing this for the salary, even if it is a nice bonus.” 

“What’s she doing it for, then?” 

As a job, this was really mostly about yourself — or it was, in the beginning. You’d terrorized Vice President Na to some degree because of the innate tendency towards self-preservation, and when that felt a little one-sided, you also considered everyone who might lose their jobs if the department got cut. It had been, for the most part, an act of pure desperation, so strong that you were willing to point fingers and raise your voice (only a few decibels, because you’re not a crazy person) at your boss. Now… that wasn’t really part of the equation. Maybe you had gotten used to the fact that the Vice President wouldn’t be going anywhere, so you’d stopped worrying about your and everyone else’s jobs, which all seem to be on a smooth path alongside the captain of the ship.

But if you had to be honest to yourself, part of the reason you’d grown a bit complacent about thinking about the fate of the department also had to do with the fact that you genuinely enjoyed being next to the Vice President. Mornings spent helping him prepare for work were regular highlights in your week, and the looks of approval you received from him every time you helped him finish a particularly difficult task were second to none. Always being close to him, always being the first and last to see him in the day, simply being able to look at him -– silly as that all sounds, they now play an undeniable factor in your desire to wake up and go to the office every single day. 

“I did it for you.” You answer, and because the answer’s honest, it feels completely natural to say. A pause slowly lengthens between you two, though not nearly as tense or borderline uncomfortable as you thought it might be this time around. A slow smile stretches over the Vice President’s face, but his words don’t easily take the straightforward route this time, either.

“Should I take up with the human resources department the fact that you’re outright breaching the terms of our contractual workplace relationship? How am I?” He speaks over, with you again, your voices overlapping. You can’t help it — you laugh at the absurdity of how well he’s come to know your responses, from the word choice to the lilt in your voice that signals some level of affront. When, exactly, did Vice President Na start committing the things you said and did into memory? “You’re seducing me, miss secretary. Before you say you’re not — you are. You are, without even knowing it. You’re winning me over, telling me all these sweet nothings to tickle my heart — I believe in you, Jaemin. I love working with you, Jaemin. I did it all for you, Jaemin, because you’re obviously the best in the whole world, ho ho ho.”

“I never said it like that.” 

“You might as well have.” 

“Should I stop believing in you so that we can avoid a scene, then, or is the damage to your good standing too far gone?”

“Rather than stopping something already in full motion, I think it might be better to make certain amendments to our current agreement.” Vice President Na reaches for the pen tucked into his breast pocket — the gold clip catches the fluorescent light and momentarily blinds you as he brings it up between you. He brings it to one side, then to another, and your eyes follow it, amused but also admittedly a bit hypnotized.

“What kind of trance are you putting me under, sir?”

“The kind that gets you to stop calling me that,” he chuckles. “Among other, more important things on my agenda.” 

You have an excellent view of Vice President Na’s stellar smile from the back of the meeting room. 

The deal he closes three days later goes even better than expected; not only does he bring Amazon into the fold after weeks of (surprisingly consistent) hard work and no small amount of beguiling charm (owing to the fact that he’d offended said Amazon representatives earlier on in his still relatively short-lived career), but he also manages to snag Samsung Electronics’ participation. As an already existing subscriber to the company-provided phone plan, you’re pleased to find out that you’re entitled to twelve guilt-free months of Prime Video as part of a new promotional deal, which you can now enjoy on nights you aren’t working overtime — something you’ve racked up more of as you’ve found yourself striking more of a work-life balance, thanks in large part to the Vice President’s steadily active involvement in all things on the ‘work’ aspect of the scale. Your first goal is to finally get past the first episode of an animation everyone in the department is raving about (but that you haven’t seen more than five minutes of, in actuality, because the horrible subtitles and sluggish 144px stop motion-esque have, until recently, adamantly deterred you from enjoying anything about the story).

Standing a fair distance away from the executives, you wait for the flurry of handshakes and accompanying congratulatory statements to die down; it takes quite a while, considering the sheer volume of people, and the thickest throng has come to gather around Vice President Na. At one point, all you can see of him is the slightly unruly lick of hair that’s sticking out above the rest of the considerable crowd of balding men around him (the sole crow’s feather a mountain range of gray). All their voices overlap, and you’re only able to catch key phrases — brilliant young mind… knack for business! … just like the President… bright future ahead, you know? 

Fifteen minutes of conversation and bellowing guffaws pass before Vice President Na emerges, adjusting the front of his blazer as a result of too much handshaking. Behind him, still speaking to one of the  marketing executives, is President Na, who shoots his son a surreptitious look you’ve never seen him wear in your considerable number of years in the company’s employ  — one of triumph and pride. The Vice President, however, is intently loosening his tie and scanning the room, stretching himself just a fraction taller above everyone else to get a better view throughout. 

You wait, wondering if he’s looking to speak to someone, lost in that host of black and gray suits — the Amazon media director, perhaps, or the in-house designer that also seems to be trying to catch his eye, for some reason (you sense the needy greed for a sudden promotion that seems highly unlikely in such a setting), but even though his vision passes over them, however briefly, Vice President Na doesn’t seem satisfied.

That is, until his eyes land on the corner of the room you and Secretary Son have backed yourselves into to allow the higher-ups room to mingle. 

One beat later, and the corners of his mouth are pulled up — a soft, knowing smile directed in your general direction. You glance at Secretary Son, maybe out of instinct, maybe somehow out of panic — as though you worry she’ll somehow come to chastise you, but she’s too busy trying to re-buckle her thin coat belt with rapid-fire tsks. She seems acceptably preoccupied, so your eyes flit back to the Vice President, whose eyebrows are now slightly raised, the telltale signs of a growing grin now playing on his lips as the front of his teeth begin to peek out from the seam. Another cock of his eyebrows, lifting them higher, tells you he’s waiting for some kind of message — an indication that you see him too, maybe, or… perhaps, oddly, any sign that you’re as proud of him as everyone else in the room is. 

You can’t help it  — you laugh, louder than you’d have originally liked to, a hand coming up over your mouth as Secretary Son’s head snaps up from her waist, bamboozled at your quick but sudden outburst. She throws you a look that suggests she firmly believes your mind has snapped, quite like a stale breadstick in a derelict Italian restaurant, but it’s worth it; Vice President Na looks satisfied at this — though, why he would be, you haven’t a true clue. 

As the managers and members of the board file out of the room, both you and Secretary Son inch closer to your respective direct superiors; you both stand a few steps away as the last of the executives drag their feet, still hoping to share one last handshake with either of the two, until an elderly Mrs. Kwon’s surprisingly firm grip is finally shaken off by a sheepish President Na. He turns to his son, who’s still hosting the remnants of a genial smile on his lips, clearly poised to say something. For some reason, you expect the senior to berate the former, simply out of sheer habit, but he does nothing of the sort. 

“Jaemin-ah,” his voice is gruff but not at all begrudging; it’s a low rumble of triumph. “Who’d’ve thought? My boy… you brat…”

“Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental now, dad,” the Vice President teases, to which the President chortles heartily. 

“Old men like me have the right, much more than anyone else.” You’ve never seen the President wear an expression even remotely close to softness, but you see it in his gaze now; it strikes you, then, that although you’ve always known the two to be related, this is the first time you can confidently say they resemble each other to the cores of their being — a view of happiness, somewhat mirrored in each of them. “I’m proud of you, son. You did everything I hoped you would — no, no… more than that, even.” 

“I’ll take most of the praise, thanks,” Vice President Na replies with his characteristic cheek. For a moment, so quickly you think you may have missed it, his eyes flicker to you. “But I can’t say I could’ve done it alone.” 

“Punk,” President Na snorts, yanking on his son’s earlobe; you and Secretary Son have to avert your eyes with expert speed to avoid being caught snickering at the slightly juvenile “ow, dammit,” that the Vice President groans out. “One big closed deal, and your head’s this big? I better not catch you floating away to a Las Vegas casino after all this.” 

“Give me some credit; I’d at least visit the desert first.” This time, when the Vice President glances at you, his father’s head turns too, and you stand up straighter at the unprecedented onslaught of attention. “Besides, I’ve got someone here to keep me anchored now.”

“Good work, Secretary ____________,” President Na offers you a rare smile that truly has you feeling like the world has turned upside down: the President in an agreeable (almost ecstatic, though you’d never say that out loud) mood, the Vice President doing his job not just in general but actually commendably well, and not a single strand of baby hair sticking up from out of your ponytail. Inconceivable. 

You bow, murmuring a thank you, and Secretary Son quickly follows suit for the formality of it all before she strides over to the President, who’s leaving his son with one last thunder-like clap on the back before he’s leaving the meeting room, still jovial when he catches up with the suspiciously lagging figure of Mrs. Kwon by the door. 

Vice President Na starts to follow suit, walking towards the other end of the meeting room; you quickly scurry behind him, still clutching your tablet, blinking a low battery warning, to your chest. You’ve come to grow accustomed to the ‘secretary’s pace’ over the last few weeks as well — always close enough to help, never too close enough to step on a superior’s toes.

But in the moment you fumble to silence your device, you end up stepping into someone’s shadow; glancing up at the Vice President, you find yourself looking at not the familiar view of his back but that of his side profile (one you’re actually also familiar with, though you refuse to admit to the level of familiarity). He’s slowed his pace considerably, allowing you to naturally fall into step with him, and even this, he expects a response from you somehow — he asks for it with yet another wiggle of his eyebrows. You laugh again, shaking your head, and yet, inexplicably, it seems to be exactly the reaction he hopes to see.

The department floor erupts into applause when the two of you pass through the glass doors; a flash of mollification crosses the Vice President’s features before he’s back to his signature light humor, raising a palm up in receipt of praise. Park Jinhee is clapping with only her left hand smacking the side of her mug, a few drops of coffee streaming down the handle side on impact. One of the team managers rushes forward, eager to shake Vice President Na’s hand, and, riding his high, also yours, pumping it up and down with so much vigor that you mumble a quiet ow behind a strained smile. Only the Vice President’s hand on your shoulder, steering you away, saves you from what feels like possible dislocation. 

He’s still waving at them like this is a pageant and not his day job, even as he guides you towards his office door; you have to use your elbows to push it open and effectively help you both avoid ramming into frosted glass. The applause dies down as your somewhat conjoined figures disappear through the doorway — you first, albeit convolutedly, your heel still holding strong in the job of keeping the door wide open enough for Vice President Na to saunter through before you let it swing shut to a now relatively silent office floor. 

His hold on your shoulder doesn’t let up, though; it’s still urging you forward, towards his desk, and you open your mouth to say something along the lines of I’m gonna break my hip if we keep going this way, but just as your throat conjures up the first syllable, he turns you around, letting you rest light against the edge of the table. 

In a pattern reminiscent of three days prior, Vice President Na’s hand finds its way to your waist, utterly comfortable in a way that mystifies you; he acts like it belongs there, as natural as the smile that’s still playing on his lips. 

“Sir, you realize it’s the middle of the day?” 

“You realize that we had a deal,” he corrects you, brow furrowing in feigned sternness. “Hold up your end of it, miss secretary.” 

“Only if you stop calling me that.” 

“Now, that absolutely was not part of the contract.” 

When you laugh this time, he chimes in; there’s a harmony in your voices that has your posture softening. You feel airier, your heart much lighter, and when you look up at him, you can’t help but flush at his expectant gaze. 

“You realize it’s the middle of the day,” you repeat, carefully, the words suddenly somewhat unfamiliar on your tongue — the next two syllables, most of all. “Jae… min.” 

Odd as it is, you’re rewarded with the pleased look that takes over his features; he takes a moment to exaggeratedly revel in this new occurrence. 

“Better. Much better. You could still be a bit more comfortable with it, I’d say, but… baby steps?” 

“Please re-prioritize your day, si— Jaemin.” The terse tone you’re going for is brutally marred by your blunder, which has his shoulders shaking from laughter. “Someone could very easily walk in.” 

“Who’s going to fire me?”

“I can think of one person.”

“You heard him. I’m proud of you, Jaemin. You’ve completely exceeded my expectations, Jaemin. You are the light of my life — my favorite son, Jaemin, ho, ho, ho.”

“Sir,” you sigh. “You’re his only son.”

“We had a deal,” he repeats, letting the return to habits slide, and there’s a laughably childish air to his words. “I’ll… file an insubordination report. Breach of contract as well. Tsk, tsk, miss secretary. Not on such a momentous occasion.” 

“Some might classify this as threatening behavior.” Your eyes are soft, though, when they meet his humored gaze. “If you want a reward… ask a little more nicely.”

A soft snort — his fingers dig lightly into your waist, and the next second, he’s lifting you off your feet and settling you lightly atop his desk. his palms never leave you, even after you’ve been placed; they’re increasingly warm beyond the fabric of your top. 

“____________,” he murmurs, saying your name so naturally that you could almost believe he’s referred to you as nothing else for as long as you’ve known him. “Kiss me.” 

Your own hands find their way behind his neck, but he does most of the work in closing the gap anyway; you’re not even sure who, between the two of you, gave that first sigh of longing, of relief. Perhaps it was both of you, all at once. 

Jaemin still tastes like the coffee you’d given him this morning — not a trace of richness, but a bittersweet and earthy twang that’s signature post-Americano. There’s even a hint of mintiness from the nervous handful of Tic Tacs he’d had just before the meeting started; you find that out the moment his tongue swipes against yours, leaving behind the invisible bite of menthol. And then there’s you, a clean taste that settles against his teeth, subtle first but growing stronger until you’re satisfied with the notion that you may linger there for some time — even after you pull away, slightly breathless.

“Congratulations to me,” he breathes out, trademark grin flashing bright again. “So what happens if I close next month’s Disney Plus deal?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer; his hand’s already skimming down, over your hips, following the path of your thigh. Your hand reaches out on instinct to stop him, but he’s oddly more aware of his surroundings than you give him credit for (or maybe, you’re just that predictable to him). He meets your palm, fingers lacing into yours and allowing him to lift your wrist to his lips. There, you feel the warmth of his kiss again, and he uses his hold to bring himself even closer, until he’s able to press his face into your neck. 

“Sir—”

“Jaemin. You call me Jaemin from now on, remember?”

“Sir.” You’re adamant. “It’s work hours.”

“You’re not tense.” 

He doesn’t move his head; in fact, you feel him burying his face further into your shoulder. In this position, there’s no real way for you to pull away — there’s also no real desire for you to do so, anyway. 

“No, I’m not.”

“Good.” Warmth again on your skin — his lips leave an invisible mark just above your collarbone. “I like you best like this.”

“What? Not tense?”

“Happy,” he corrects for accuracy. “Happy that you’re with me.” 

You fall silent, not because you’re not sure of what to say, but because you don’t need to tell him that he’s right. 

Moments later, his fingers find their way into your ponytail; the index hooks into the elastic, bringing your hair down. You feel his shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath, he’s inhaling your perfume again. 

“Green tea. Something floral. Jasmine? Maybe a little bit of citrus.” He lifts his head but stays close, warm breath washing over you. “It’s so you. Fresh. Pure. Beautiful.” 

The gap between the two of you doesn’t last for too long thereafter; he kisses you again, and your heart lifts to find that your taste still lingers somewhere there. It’s longer because it’s slower — less playful and more exploratory, until he pulls away to a much more breathless you. How he finds the air to talk even after is miraculous to you. 

“Be mine, miss secretary.” 

You blink — once, twice, at his serious expression, wondering if it will break and give way to more humor. But he waits, unwavering, until the last piece of resistance you’ve clung onto is washed away — the last thing that made you, for a second, deny that you were in love with him. 

His smile slowly mirrors yours as it grows. 

“Like you could ever get rid of me, Na Jaemin.” 

#jaemin imagines #jaemin scenario #jaemin drabbles #jaemin drabble #jaemin scenarios #jaemin x reader #jaemin x you #nct x you #nct dream x you #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream drabbles #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct imagine #nct scenario #nct smut #jaemin smut #nct x reader #nct x y/n

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Okay so this is kinda specific but can u please write like a one shot with Max or lando or oscar (u can choose) where the reader is in a previous toxic relationship and driver realises it by witnessing an altercation between them or whatever (idk u can come up with what the other person does to reader) and he defends the reader by stepping in between them and confronting the other guy...idk (they didn't meet before btw) and the reader is like appreciating him and he's like acting really sweet towards reader so they eventually get together... it can be just fluff too pls 🫶🏻 and i dont have a gender preference so idk if you only write for one gender but u can also choose that. you dont have to write this but i havent found one like it yet so yeah thats why i am requesting.Thank youu🫶🏻

Touch Her & You Die - Max Verstappen

I feel like this idea is very Max coded, so I'm going to go with him. Also, for anyone reading, obviously if the topic of toxic relationships hits too close to home. Don't read this. I do fully intend for a happy fluffy ending as always but obviously the toxic relationship is how it starts. I do sort of writer exclusively for fem!reader. I've got nothing against gender-neutral or male!reader but it's just not what I write.

Also I know the context behind this clip and I know it's from the taboo DTS but like idgaf, something about Max in this clip got me some type of way.

Max is not the type to chase a taken woman. But he may befriend her and get as close to her as possible without being someone who interferes with her relationship.

Y/n is happy in her relationship.

She works in F1 as one of the commentators every so often and she does a lot of media work for them. Her boyfriend is actually a mechanic for Red Bull.

Annoyingly, the couple seems pretty well matched. The same industry of work means they travel together, but she isn't in his way, they always seem happy together. He's sure he's heard rumours of them being a bit on and off, seeming to take breaks from the relationship but never really get involved in other people and they seemed to get back together fast enough because ultimately they were young but completely happy together.

Or at least that's what Max thought.

In fact had you told him this morning he'd be the witness and the one stepping in between the couple. He probably would've laughed and said you had to be speaking about another couple. Y/n and Davy were just...perfect.

But right now they're hissing at each other, getting progressively louder.

"I said to drop it, Davy." Y/n states, finally loud enough for Max to hear her from the pit wall where he was talking to GP.

"You're being ridiculous." Davy shoots back in frustration making Max perk up a little, mainly out of anger to hear Davy speaking to y/n while she looks near tears.

"I'm being ridiculous?" Y/n laughs coldly, disbelief making her voice heighten. "You-You-" Her gaze flicks around and she notices his expression grow stoney.

"We are leaving." Davy growls but in a moment of going to reach for her with what is obviously going an angry and hard grip on her, Max appears in front of him. His back to y/n and his own icy expression.

"Don't touch her." Max instructs with a tone that even earns attention from other teams since the Red Bull garage had fallen silent seeing Max move faster than his car to protect y/n who had flinched back in preparation to be grabbed before Max got there.

"Excuse me? That's my girlfriend." Davy scoffs looking around Max who doesn't take his eyes off the man. "Y/n, move. Now."

"She doesn't have to go anywhere with you." Max states then turning to y/n who has tears that have escaped. "You don't have to go with him. You can stay here if you want."

Y/n's voice catches in her throat which apparently angers Davy enough to reach around and finally grab her. Again Max acts in impressive speed, grabbing Davy's arm with enough grip that he lets go of her and ends up pushed back onto the ground.

"What the fuck you can't do that! I'll have you arrested."

Davy has never shown this side to him, clearly for a reason. But it's making the rest of the mechanics who all thinks y/n is a very sweet young woman who may have been helping to hide this side of her boyfriend this whole time. Whatever the tipping point, they hadn't seen this side to him before.

"I told you not to touch her." Max shrugs simply as Christian steps down from the pit wall.

"Might be time for you to leave for the day, Davy. We'll have a talk tomorrow when you've cooled off." Christian states earning what sounds almost like a growl from the man. "Go on."

There's a deafening silence as the man storms off, stomping his feet in a way that you might expect from a toddler.

"Alright, shows over." Christian calls out looking around the pit lane which kicks everyone into actually getting back to work.

Max turns around almost hesitantly. Y/n could absolutely not be happy that he stepped in, but instead when he turns around she falls against him in a hug that he returns without a second thought.

"Thank you." Y/n hiccups against him while he sighs hating that she's even crying over someone who clearly mistreated her, but not only that she's thanking him for helping her.

Eventually Max manages to get her into the Red Bull unit to get away from prying eyes and just to help her feel more comfortable.

"Are you ok?" Max asks wanting to check her arm which was definitely grabbed harshly. "Can I check your arm?"

"Oh uhh...I-yeah, yeah you can." Y/n nods seeming not to even think about it. Though when Max tugs the sleeve up her arm she does hiss a little and almost tugs her arm back from where his hand is gently holding her own. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise. I'm sorry it hurt." Max sighs looking almost hating that he didn't manage to stop her from being grabbed.

There's so dark red marks that will probably turn into bruises but nothing that he can really do. When he looks up at her it dawns on him that she has to be in a state of shock and her gaze has focused on something out the window.

Tears still stain her cheeks, her lip is still sort of trembling from her trying to keep her emotions inside while her breaths shake every time she exhales.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Max asks knowing that some people just need space.

"No." Y/n whispers then seeming to shake herself back into reality with some force. "Sorry. Oh my god, you have things to do. Go-"

"I have nothing to do." Max cuts in with a soft smile. "If you want me to stay then there is no problem with me staying.”

“Thank you.” Y/n smiles weakly before sighing and rubbing at her eyes. Another silence follows for a few seconds before she speaks, not being able to contain an explanation that she feels she owes to the man who just saved her. “I know it’s always stupid to say that I thought his temper would go away…he was always like that when it was just us. That’s where it started today, he told me I was getting fat and that’s why they hadn’t featured me in the broadcast this weekend.”

“I thought it was because eye had the…the f1 kids as commentators and they just had too many people.” Max frowns since while he might pretend he doesn’t know what’s going on. He is actually very much informed.

“That is why. But…I have gained some weight and Davy didn’t like that. He’d been on me about it for a while but I didn’t think would go this far about it.” Y/n murmurs, her eyes beginning to tear up again. “I guess I was really just being that fucking stupid.”

“You are not stupid, Y/n.” Max frowns shaking his head. “Anyone would’ve gotten caught up in that. The important part is that…you know you were and are always going to be better than being treated like that."

Y/n swallows thickly before she juts her jaw a little.

"We dated for 4 years, and we broke up 23 times...I think I should've seen the warning signs and actually listened to my gut about them." Y/n sighs making Max frown.

23 break ups is a lot of times. Maybe too many times for them to keep trying with each other. But he doesn't know what was going on behind the scenes at the end of the day. It's fairly obvious Davy was not accepting of moments he wasn't in control.

-

The next morning, Max found y/n asleep on the sofa in his suite. He'd insisted she not be alone tonight. Purely caring as a friend. He wants to make sure she is ok.

He managed to convince her to come to the paddock and upon arriving. They find Davy making his very angry and dramatic exit, presumably he had his "talk" with Christian and has been relieved of his job.

"This is your fault." Davy spits his whole body shaking in what is obviously a blinding rage.

"Mate, don't do this. I warned you yesterday." Max states as security begins to close in on them. "Leave with some pride intact and don't cause a scene."

It's clear the man is seething, y/n is certain he might even just have a heart attack. She's somewhat hidden herself behind Max's frame, hoping to remain safe from her position as security guides y/n out.

"He didn't need to lose his job."

"Christian won't let someone like that work in the team....and I would've insisted he leave anyway.' Max while they continue to walk through the paddock. "You have the right to feel comfortable around here and he would've made you uncomfortable."

Y/n smiles lightly before she swallows thickly.

At some point during the day, y/n is stolen from Max's company in a moment of the marketing girls crowding her and passing on their sympathy.

"Thank you for getting rid of him." Max states as he speaks to Christian.

"It's not as if we're taking a massive loss without him." Christian shrugs then looking over at y/n who is walking through the paddock with a couple of women. "I hope you're going to take this opportunity and use it."

Max remains silent, jaw locked and mouth pressed firmly closed. He doesn't talk about his fondness for y/n so Christian calling him out means he may not be as subtle about it as he was hoping he had been.

-

The following races, y/n seemed to settle into a new norm of being single. Despite quite a few employees within the teams and F1 were obvious about their interest in her, but she seemed to ignore them.

However, she finds herself more and more drawn to Max's side. He still lets her sleep on his sofa, and whether it's intentional or not he's building her confidence back up from where it had fallen so hard.

Fans had also started to notice the two growing very much closer and closer to each other. With not a mad person about it. Y/n is a fan favourite when she speaks as a commentator. They had noticed her whole personality brighten and she's started to look healthy with a glow about her since the break up.

The interaction between Max and Davy with y/n did make some headlines. The story being gossip within the paddock and managing to gain some attention.

Eventually y/n manages to make her way back to Max.

"Hi." Y/n smiles brightly as Max immediately directs his attention to her.

"Hello." Max greets before noticing that there's definitely something that y/n came over to say. "Whatever you have to ask or talk about. Just say it because you're awful at hiding something being on your mind."

"I think...it's about time I repaid you." Y/n states making Max raise his eyebrows. "Could I...Could we...I want to take you to dinner?"

"Like a date?" Max asks not giving away if he'd like that or not and she immediately looks nervous about it so he speaks up again, settling her nerves. "Because I was going to ask you later if I could take you on a date. Dinner sounds good to me."

Y/n beams with a mixture of joy and relief.

"Ok, I'm going to go look for the best restaurant I can find that doesn't make you like have to break your diet." Y/n grins then moving back in excitement while Max clears his throat.

"Y/n, what time would you like to go?"

"Oh right! Oh uhh...when do you think you'll be free?" Y/n laughs clearly still a little nervous as she speaks. "Would 7 be too early? Maybe 8?"

"We could meet in the middle. 7:30?"

"Yeah. That works perfectly." Y/n nods then moving up with some built up confidence and kissing his cheek before nearly fleeing the scene while Max sort of feels his face flush a little.

-

Max knocks on y/n's door since despite her sleeping on the sofa's in his suites she does actually have a hotel room paid for wherever they go, hearing her yell from inside, he rocks on his feet a little as he waits.

When the door flies open, Max smiles seeing her in a short white dress, her feet adorned in some strappy heels that wrap around up her ankles, a little pale yellow shoulder bag with a silver necklace and earrings.

Her make up is sparkly, glitter on her eyes and glossy lips. Hair is slickly half up and half down perfectly showing her face rather than hiding it.

"You look beautiful." Max croaks out in a moment of awe seeing her.

He's never really one to have his confidence knocked, especially with the season he's been having. He has to admit the ego inflation of his winning streaks and the windows from even P2.

"You look beautiful too." Y/n smiles while stepping out, checking she has everything she might need in her bag.

During their walk to the foyer, Max manages to link their hands with her latching onto him as if it's lifeline.

The whole drive to the restaurant, she is directing him since she did choose the restaurant and he is a little surprised that it's not some massively expensive, big flashy place. It's quite quaint but seems still like a place he'd trust to make food and not make him ill.

Being a gentleman he makes sure to pull out the chair for her before tucking it in as she sits down. When they sit looking at the menu, Max can't help letting his gaze flick to her. This feels almost surreal and he isn't sure if he needs to be pinched to check that he's not dreaming.

-

The date triggered a new comfortability between them. Y/n and Max are all over each other, both in public and alone.

"No...I'm so tired." Y/n whines as Max tries to ease her awake.

They're back in Monaco and the jet lag has literally knocked y/n off her feet. It's afternoon and she's slept long into the day with Max having left her to sleep through the morning but he knows she'll never adjust quickly if she's sleeping the day away like a cat in the sun.

She's actually cuddled up with his cats and has the curtains pushed back to she afternoon sun is shining down on her. Warming her tot he perfect temperature to just doze in.

"Y/n, you have to wake up. Come on." Max laughs gently rubbing her back while she groans only trying to dig herself further into the sheets. "If I have to pick you up and drag you out this bed, you know I will."

"Max...please. The cats and I are sleeping-bonding. We are bonding." Y/n whispers as if not to disturb her napping companions before she lifts her hand. "Join us."

"You make it sound like a cult." Max states, though he finds himself moving to lie down with her arm moving to go around him as a satisfied smile settles on her lips since she is counting this as a score under her name.

Truth be told, if there's one thing they've both came to realise. It's that Max will absolutely do anything that gets a smile from her. For everyone else, it's no surprise. For y/n it's just something she loves and for Max it's part of how their relationship works.

The last thing he'd ever want is for her to feel anything negative, especially since she's told him more about just how bad things were between her and Davy. She opened up and trusts him, which means more to Max than he would admit to anyone beyond his inner circle.

They end up spending the whole day lazing in bed with the cats till y/n's stomach grumbles and Max demands for them to get up just to get something to eat. Which she does finally agree to. Some people might say it's a waste of time off or a waste of a day to sleep and eat as how they spend the day.

But Max would give up his career if y/n said she would too and they could spend the rest of their lives living every day exactly like this one. Cuddled up, with the cats, dozing in the sun and just loving each other's company.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #max f1 #max #verstappen #mv1 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv1 x you #mv1 fic #mv1 fanfic #mv1 imagine #mv1 #mv33 #mv33 x reader #mv33 x you #mv1 x y/n #mv33 x y/n #mv33 fanfic #mv33 fic #mv33 one shot #mv1 one shot

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Thoughts I have about Android!reader

Warnings: Just the regular sci-fi stuff that comes with androids, the 141 are a little mean because they don’t get it at first but they’ll warm up to you eventually

The Android program that made you was so hidden that no one outside a certain branch of the government knew about it…until they decided to put you to the test.

You were supposed to be the best data analyst, the best planner, the best library of intelligence, the best everything the military needed besides being a soldier (no laws for androids if they attack someone yet)

They made you look so close to human that Laswell and the 141 thought you were human despite all the wires underneath the false skin

At first they were accepting of a new member. Their own “guy in the chair” as Soap put it.

Soap and Gaz tried to make you feel welcome, inviting you out to drinks or to hang with them but you never took their offer

Ghost tried a couple times but when you blew him off he decided you weren’t worth the trouble and promptly ignored you

Your orders were to collect intelligence and use it, slowly let it make you smarter, bonding with the task force was not within them

Even Price tried, though nothing worked

“Even if you’re not on the field we’re still a team.” He told you one day as you were searching through the new intel they had recently gotten

“I understand but I’m just here to do my job to make your life easier.” That was always your response and frankly, it was starting to get on his nerves

You were starting to get on everyone’s nerves

They understood the need for professionalism but you seemed to take it to the extreme. You never interacted or interfered with anything they did but having you there, being unwilling to cooperate made them antsy

Were you a plant? Someone pretending to be their ally to get info? They didn’t know.

Soon they stopped interacting with you unless they absolutely needed to

It didn’t bother you. Nothing did. You didn’t have feelings, no emotions, you just did the job you were made for and did it exceptionally well without error

That was until you made one mistake

After analyzing all the intel you could you told Price the best course of action, one that you picked out from the hundreds of different generated plans you came up with that you knew would succeed…only for it to end up with Gaz in the infirmary

You were confused? Youre not sure if that’s what you could called it but you didn’t have a reaction in your code for that. There shouldn’t have been an issues, there was no margin for error in your calculations and yet he had been injured

After looking at the intel again, you decided it was time for damage control

Gaz was a little weary when you showed up at his bed, staring at him with those strange almost lifeless eyes of yours

“Your vitals are stable, you should make a quick recovery.” You told him and he nodded

“Nothing I haven’t had before. It could’ve been worse.” He assured you but you shook your head.

“It shouldn’t have happened at all. I thought my calculations were perfect but I made an error that could’ve costed your life. I’m sorry, sergeant Garrick.”

Gaz was baffled. One the one hand he wanted to believe you were sorry because this was the most you showed about caring for one of them but on the other hand you looked completely emotionless. It was a little awkward but he couldn’t find it in his heart to be mad at you or to think you were joking

“It’s all good.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “It happens. We still got what we needed, so no harm done.”

“…I see.” You were puzzled but nodded.

You expected repercussions. If your engineers knew you made a mistake they’d try to recode you so you wouldn’t make the same mistake again, possibly wipe you and start over.

But the 141 didn’t know you were a machine.

The others joined and you understood you wouldn’t be welcomed.

“Captain, I’d like to apologize to you as well for my error. It won’t happen again.”

Price just raised an eyebrow confused.

“You couldn’t prepare for an RPG taking down a helo…but alright.”

You didn’t stick around, deciding that you would go over the intel again to find what caused your mistake, leaving the 141 confused by you.

A/n: don’t really know what this is but just decided to write something, might continue it might not we’ll see

@writingmysanity

#android!reader #simon ghost riley #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #just a little something

[zriasstuff]

All because i liked a boy

Theodore Nott x reader

Before you scroll: THANK YOU FOR 314 FOLLOWERS RAHHH <<33 (the pi number is perfect) and special shoutout to @babygoddam who ALWAYS likes my shit first, you a real one. Feel absolutely free to send in requests (totally not because im running out of ideas)!!!!

Summary: Theo is dating Pansy, but is also seeing you secretly behind her back. What happens when you get sick of that and present him an ultimatum. Will it be her or you? And what if a unexpected friendship develops from all this?

It’s your last year at hogwarts, so that makes you about 17/18 yo.

Everything about your clandestine meetups behind the quidditch field was morally wrong. As you’re walking up to your meetup spot, you feel the urge to stop yourself and go back to your dorm. You want to, and most importantly should stop making the same mistake again and again. But your lack of self control would be the eventual death of you.

Actually, no. Theodore Nott would be the eventual death of you. He was the reason for your lack of self control.

The freezing January air made it impossible to breathe, your red nose hurting from every drawn breath. Shivers ran through your body, all the way to your head where you were experiencing a first hand brain freeze. How was it possible that this is what your life has come to.

Through the foggy air, you eventually make out a tall and lean figure, approaching you with arms crossed and head down. Death has arrived.

“My bad on suggesting to meet up here in this crappy weather, but my dorm is occupied”, he breathed out while clouds of vapor escaped his mouth.

“What about the library then?”, you suggested. Any place inside would be better than this.

“No”, he decisively rejects your idea while shaking his head.

“Why not”, you ask.

“You know why”, he says, sounding increasingly annoyed.

“I don’t” You do. You know exactly why. You want to hear him say it.

“Don’t do this”

“I really don’t know”

“Stop, I really don't want to do this right now” Theo let out a repressed huff with his head lowered. One of his hands that was in his jacket pocket began ruffling through his hair. Whenever he was uneasy he did that.

“Fine”, you let it go. Truth be told, you were also afraid that you wouldn’t be able to digest what Theo would say. On one side, you knew that this was wrong. But on the other hand, admitting it was wrong meant that you would have to end it, otherwise it would make you guys horrible people.

Not that you weren’t horrible people now, but saying it just made it all the more real. Real is bad. Reality sucks. It was easier to hide in a bubble.

Theo looks you in the eyes again, assessing that this probably wasn’t a great time to do anything. But he didn’t want to make you feel like trash either.

“So how was your day?”, he awkwardly asks.

“We don’t have to do this, don’t pretend you actually care”, you sigh. His attempt was meant well, but it was futile. He could never make you feel fully cared for. And that was alright. You know you don’t deserve it anyway.

“I do care”, he exhales while nailing you with his intense stare.

“For your dirty mistress? How naive do you think i am”

“So you do want to do this right now” You thought you didn’t, but today seemed to be especially hard on you. Perhaps it was the stress from classes, perhaps it was the passive aggressive letter you got from your parents, or perhaps it was Theo barely acknowledging your existence in between classes.

“If not now, when then? I'm getting sick of not talking about it” It was time to face reality and put your fears aside.

“I thought you were okay with this”, he raised his voice confusingly.

“With being your side chick who can’t be seen or associated with you in public? Am I okay with seeing you prance around with Pansy, while I have to meet you out here like this?”

“Hey I'm not the bad guy who is forcing you to do this”

Theodore Nott wasn’t forcing you to do anything. No. He would just call you baby behind closed doors. Buy you flowers. Secretly spend nights with you. Anything a boyfriend would do, just without the emotional attachment.

And Pansy. His girlfriend he actually prances around with. His girlfriend who thinks she means the world to him. This slippery slope with Theodore down to where you were now started approximately four months ago. He had gotten into a really bad fight with her and at a party he started flirting with you. He lied about having broken up with her.

The worst part— you didn’t even find out up until two months later. In those two months he had obviously made up with her and didn’t end it, but he was sneaky. You had to give him credit for having juggled the two of you for that long without either noticing. You guess it helped that you were in Gryffindor. But after two months Theo got tired of being on edge all the time, so he decided to make his relationship with Pansy public again.

Why didn't you end it with him back then? Good question. All you remember is a bunch of unconvincing bullshit from him. But as unconvincing as it was, he gave you a sense of comfort. And although he didn’t make you feel fully cared for, he was still better than your supposed friends. Those two months you lived in the unknown were special, you had to admit. You felt special. But even the brightest spark eventually dies out.

“I know you’re not forcing me, but I'm getting fucking exhausted of this. And I feel terrible about Pansy”

“Why do you even care about her?”

“WHY DON’T YOU?!”, you suddenly burst out. Yes, he chose her over you because he had been together with her before you got together with him. Admittedly, he’s treating her better than you. But you don’t hate her. She actually didn't do anything. And unlike you, she isn't actively hurting you. It was so frustrating to know that you were choosing some guy over the “girls protect girls” vow. All because you couldn’t handle being alone again. Pathetic.

“Do you realize how ridiculous you sound Theo? Saying you like both of us, but in reality you treat both of us like shit.”

“Well what do you want me to do?”, he angrily asked.

“I'm giving you an ultimatum. Either you break up with me and stay with her. Or you tell her and deal with her breaking up with you. If she doesn’t, and if you also don’t, then I will anyway”

Perhaps it sounded a bit too extreme at the moment. You were definitely the last person to talk about morals, but it wasn’t too late yet. In the long run, it would benefit Theo too. A huge weight was finally going to be lifted off of your shoulders.

“Please, you’re not thinking straight”, he pitifully pleads in a last attempt to escape his responsibility and ultimately reality.

“I mean this works just fine. Pansy is happy, I can make you happy, and i promise you won’t feel like a dirty mistress”

A scoff is all you’re able to respond with. “You got until the end of the week, otherwise I will immediately cut off any ties with you”

Are you as important to Theo as he says you are? It’s wrong, but innerly you wish that he would break up with Pansy without telling her. That would be ideal for you. Freaking Theodore Nott, who showed you what kind of person you really were.

The next day, you caught Theo and Pansy making out in the hallways. “Ugh get a room”, you think to yourself. The day after, still no change. And on the day after that, everything was still the same. And as one could imagine, on the fourth day, still nothing.

With Friday approaching, Theo would only have two more days to make his decision according to your ultimatum. Perhaps he thought that you didn’t mean it seriously, but you did. You swore to yourself that if after two days still nothing happened, you’d break up with him. “Break up”, as in quit being fuck buddies, it wasn’t like you were in a real relationship.

Consumed by your own thoughts, you apparently missed McGonagall's announcement. Suddenly half the class was packing their stuff and getting up.

“Hey what’s going on”, you ask a guy sitting in front of you.

“Did you seriously not pay attention?”, he hisses.

“What do you think, smart-ass, since I’m asking you right now?” This was not the time to be lecturing you.

“We got a new seating arrangement, she just read out all the pairs who are going to be sitting next to each other. I think you’re with Pansy”

Shit. You swallow hard at the mention of her name.

“You sure?”, you ask dumbfounded.

“I mean she’s walking up to you right now”, he says shrugging his shoulders, “anyway gotta go”

You hope to fuck that he was wrong. But after turning around frantically, you observe that Pansy was in fact walking up to you. Out of all forty students, of course you would be next to her.

“Heyyy, looks like we’re going to be stuck with each other for a semester. Cute bracelet by the way, where’d you get it?”, she greets you in quite a chipper tone.

“You’re boyfriend actually got it for me after our first time”, is what you would say if you didn’t lie. Instead you reply “thanks, a friend got it for me but I don’t know from where”

“Y’know I actually have a really similar one”, she says as she’s sitting down next to you and pulls up her sleeve, “Theo gave it to me”. It was basically the same bracelet, just in gold instead of silver. So, what were the chances that Theo bought several bracelets in the same shop and just gave them out to whoever he fancied at the moment. Not even the slightest effort.

“How sweet”, you force yourself to say in the happiest tone you can manage.

“So what’s going on in your life?”, she continues the conversation, “I just realized that I barely know anything about you, even though we’ve known each other since year one”

You almost want to say “trust me, you don’t want to know what’s going on in my life”. Instead you say “nothing much, I’ve been thinking about maybe trying out for the quidditch team”

“Oh how cool, I’ve seen you fly in class, you totally should try out. You know during the last game between Slytherin and Gryffindor Blaise did this really funny thing where…”

What Blaise did, you’ll never know because you tuned out. But what you do know now is that Pansy is actually an incredibly nice person. In just five minutes she has shown you support, complimented you and began talking to you like you were her new friend. Perhaps she thought you could be friends. After the lesson ended, you felt almost carefree. You guys barely got any work done, but instead gossiped about anything that came to mind. Time practically passed away in seconds, and you were just hugging Pansy goodbye before going separate ways. Nothing felt weird at all until…

As you’re about to pull away from the hug, you catch Theo staring intensely from the corner of your eye. Was he suspecting something? Truth be told, you could’ve inquired more about his and Pansy’s relationship, but you decided to not be nosy. The less you knew, the better.

Later on, after you spent hours feeling like an empty shell of a human being, you slouch to your dinner table. During the day your thoughts felt like a huge, untieable knot, so you decided to ignore everything. When all classes ended, you immediately hopped into bed, rolling around, slowly rotting. Feeling nothing was better than thinking too much. There was simply too much. There was the question of whether you were a terrible human being, wondering if you should completely rebrand yourself, thinking about what Theo would do and about how it would affect Pansy, and so much more. In the end, nothing would be answered by just thinking about it.

Even while eating dinner, you have to restrain yourself from letting your most inner thoughts wander. Though, Pansy sure added fuel to the fire by smiling at you. Genuinely flashing you the purest, brightest smile. For no reason at all. Just to be nice probably. Instead of smiling back like a normal human being, you almost choke on your water.

This was it. You couldn’t pretend to be unbothered. You had to end it. You hated that option because it meant that Theo could escape from his responsibility, but it also meant that you could redeem yourself. Right? After all, you also carried some of that responsibility.

To contact Theo, you wrote “meet me at astronomy tower, important!” on a small piece of paper and slipped it into his hand after dinner was over. Hopefully no one saw that transaction. Since everyone always pushed another, it was only natural to bump into someone and touch their hand or arm.

Halfway on your way to the tower, you question if all this had been a huge mistake. Would you even have the guts to do what you had set out to do ? Theo could be so goddamn persuasive sometimes.

On your last few steps you lose a bit of balance and barely make it to the balcony, feeling like you would collapse any time soon. It even takes you a second to realize that Theo was already there. Before he turned around you just thought that it was some random guy.

“How were you faster than me”, you huff completely out of breath.

“I have my ways”, he says. “So why’d you want to meet me here”, he asks, seeming disturbingly nonchalant. As if he couldn’t guess the possible reasons.

“I want this to be as quick and painless as possible”, you begin. You gain an eyebrow raise from the otherwise collected looking guy.

“Let’s just officially end this. You and me. We are officially over.”

You were pretty sure that you didn’t sound as confident as you wish you had, but nonetheless you had done it. Officially calling the breaks would be your ticket to a normal life again. Whew did that feel freeing. But this wasn’t fully over yet.

“I thought it was up to me”, Theo sounded agitated now.

“Well i changed my mind”

“That’s not fai-“

“Seriously, Theo, you want to talk about fair ?”

“So what if i told you that I would’ve chosen you over Pansy”, he tells you while throwing his arms around. “You just want to give up like a coward?”, he spits at you, blowing up in anger and disbelief. His widening eyes and clenching jaw told you were enough to convince you that he was full on serious.

Is that what you were doing? Giving up on something genuine? You never thought about it in that way. Sure, your connection to Theo was undeniably strong, but were you ready for actual commitment?

“You don’t get to say that”, you defensively say as you take a step back. He immediately gets in your face again.

With tears forming in your eyes, threatening to spill out, and quivering lips, you try your best to curve your mouth upward and take your last stand.

“I am not giving up. We never had anything to begin with because you were a coward.”

He steps even closer, his nose touching yours. His dead brown eyes looked hauntingly beautiful in the moment. “But don’t you see, I want to give us a try”

“I CAN’T DO THIS THEO”, you yell in his face, not caring that your tears streamed down your face. All that bottled up anger came down to this. “WHAT DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND, THERE IS NO US.” Just as you say that, you frantically tear off his gifted silver bracelet and throw it in his face. “We’re done Theodore” are your last words before storming off.

When you notice him following, you run even faster, yelling “STOP FOLLOWING ME FOR FUCKS SAKE”. Eventually you stop hearing his footsteps, and you allow yourself to break down in an empty corridor. You keep muttering “it’s for the best” as a way of reassurance, but you don’t even know if that’s true anymore.

That night you went to sleep, wanting nothing but to drown out everything. Instead you got a fucking nightmare about the entire events at the astronomy tower. Only, you were watching from the third person point of view this time.

Luckily, as you wake up, you realize that it was a Saturday, so you could be in peace a little longer. Apparently you also woke up pretty late because you were alone in the dorm. Great, your “friends” didn’t even bother pretending to include you. It was always like that. They were nice to your face, but actively excluded you. What was it about you that alienated you from everyone?

*BANG*

HOLY FUCK.

You suddenly jolt up and watch Pansy come through the door. She looked furious and extremely messy. You notice her heavy eye bags and smeared mascara.

“YOU WANT TO TELL ME WHY THE FUCK YOUR BRACELET WAS ON THEOS NIGHTSTAND?!?”, she shouts, probably loud enough for everyone in Gryffindor to hear.

“What are you talking ab-” It was mid sentence when you realize that you in fact threw your bracelet in Theo’s face yesterday and that Pansy recognised it from McGonagall's class.

There was no point in lying. “Pansy please I can explain”, you desperately choke out, feeling a knot in your throat.

“Fuck you. I actually liked you, but i guess you are just another snake”

Before you can actually explain yourself, she already left. All by yourself, you begin to sob. Perhaps your “friends” were right in excluding you. You wouldn’t even want to be friends with yourself.

This mess you were in— what if you never went to that party where you met Theo? But that wasn’t even the most important part. You had to find a way to make it up to Pansy.

Argh this is it…for now ? So if you read the deleted original fic “Baby”, you will recognise the first part, but not the rest. I asked if you wanted a pt.2, but then i realised i could just make all of it into one, longer part. I really really hope you found this if you read “Baby”. And who knows maybe this storyline will continue.

Also thank you for the people who commented, i tagged y’all (except for two i couldn’t find), so you could find this more easily. @onyxwingsandcrowblackdreams @princessofsilverandserpents @pumpkinchee @laur20a23 @ladyblablabla @the-mrs-malik-styles @boomdolle @mmeskywalker

#slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys #harry potter oneshot #theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott fic #theo nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #lorenzo zurzolo #slytherin boys react #slytherin boys fanfiction #theodore nott fanfiction

[shadesoflsk]

    HIS MINI WORLD

ft: Leon Kennedy x Fem Reader summary: Leon experiencing fatherhood. From the day his little miracle's heart started beating to her first steps. warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, self doubts but overall this is just fluff and nothing more! wc: 1.4k author's note: Hello! This is me once again bringing dad Leon content. The last time I wrote him was for Christmas hehe. I don't really know what I did here since this like a combination between headcanons and mini drabbles but hey, it's something. Anyway, take care!

   masterlist

Leon who ever since you announced you were expecting he switched to dad mode. All of his friends needed to know that he was now a father to be. Claire? The first one to know. Chris? He needed to know that he may as well be the godfather of his little blessing. 

Leon who was next to you at every ultrasound appointment. He couldn't even make out where this little bean was but he already called them the most perfect thing. Because, after all, it's the perfect combination of both of you.

Leon who is the first one to buy parenting books. He often told you not so common facts as he read in the middle of the night. Do you know that babies are born with the ability to swim? He made sure to tell you even if you were fast asleep.

“Darling…” Leon gently shook you, his voice was hushed yet it was enough to stir you from your sleep and say goodbye to your precious dreams. “Mhm…? What is it?” Being woken up in the middle of the night wasn’t something you were looking for. Especially since you already grew used to Leon’s schedule. However, you tried not to show any signs of grumpiness.  “Do you know that our baby can recognize music? So… if we put some headphones on your stomach they might know what we usually listen to!” His voice was barely a whisper but it wasn’t enough to hide his excitement.  “Go to sleep Leon…”

Leon who has all the money in the world to buy the most expensive and glamorous crib, yet he wanted to experience how it was to build it. So, he made it from scratch. Of course, with Chris’ help. Even though both of them ended up with splinters in their fingers.

Leon who would rarely argue with you. But when the time comes when you disagree about something and go to bed a bit mad at each other, he would place a hand on your belly as he whispered: I'm mad at you, not at them. Eventually, both of you would forgive each other, even if the argument was just a silly disagreement.

Arguing with Leon was obviously something doomed to happen in your marriage. As much as you wanted it to be peaceful and problem-less, your personalities sometimes crashed. It never led to an actual fight. But Leon was… stubborn, even if he knew you were right, he'd never admit it. So, as you lay on your side hoping that sleep comes faster, you feel a strong and calloused hand over your belly.  “I'm not angry at them so this is only fair.” Leon said, rubbing and caressing the skin that was starting to stretch as it gave the baby more space to grow. After a couple of seconds of silence, Leon started to feel guilty for not giving you attention. You were carrying his baby, he couldn’t act this immature. “Sorry…” Leon sheepishly apologized for his previous banter. An argument should never make them go to bed angry at each other. “I'm sorry too.” You finally responded as drowsiness started filling your mind and body.

Leon who responded “I just want them to be healthy,” when someone asked him about his baby. But he was a bit too happy when you announced to him that he was going to be a girl dad. In his mind, he wanted to have two beautiful princesses next to him. And now, heaven is allowing him to achieve his dreams and leave behind his sorrowful previous life.

Leon who may as well go bankrupt since he buys everything he sees at the shop. Tiny pink dresses and teddy bears are his favorite things to buy. His little princess deserves the world, she’s already his whole world.

Leon who would speak to your bump, his words full of promises and wishes for his baby. And even when you were asleep, he would go on for minutes, expecting his little miracle to hear him.

“You will be so loved… Everyone is waiting for you.” He said one night, a hand caressing the side of your belly. “I have already bought so many toys you will be playing with. Daddy loves you so much.”

Leon who has to go on missions, he can’t just quit. But, he keeps a photo of your ultrasound in his wallet, next to yours. A totem of his love, a physical item that reminds him he needs to return home. 

“Shit…” He hissed as the nurse helped him sit down on one of the chairs. He had recently just come back from a mission which took a toll on him. It wasn’t especially hard since he had help from his new team, yet he believed his age was starting to show in his body. “Mr. Kennedy, your belongings…” The nurse spoke to him for the first time as she picked up Leon’s jacket which had fallen as he sat down. Leon thanked her before he started searching for something in one of its pockets. For a while, he paid no mind to the nurse ministrations. The alcohol swab stung just a bit as she cleaned an injury on his side. Eventually, he found what he was looking for. He pulled out his wallet and there they were, the photos he always carries with him. A proud smile showed on his face as he was reminded that he had succeeded in another mission which meant Heaven granted him one more day to live. He was alive and ready to continue living..

Leon who would practically faint when you told him the baby was coming, that the time has come. He had previously made scenarios about this situation, thinking that he was prepared but dear God… he wasn’t. 

Dad Leon who sobbed when he heard his baby’s cries for the first time. However, this time, those sounds didn’t come from someone who was suffering as he is used to hearing in his line of job. Those cries were the living proof that he was once again, given a second chance in life.

The first one was when you agreed to marry him. He held himself from grabbing his daughter out of the nurse’s arms. It’s not that he didn’t trust the medical team, but he has waited almost 9 months to see, to hold his miracle.  And even though a part of him fears that his hands are too stained from his job, from his past, and from the near future, he knows that his and your hands will be the ones guiding your baby.

Dad Leon who doesn't know what to do once you were discharged from the hospital. He couldn't spend one second away from the both of you, always checking if you needed something.

Dad Leon who speaks with his daughter as if she was already a grown-up. Her babbles and his words fill the living room as they both engage in a serious conversation.

“Bwaaah” “Yeah, I get it. But you have to understand my point too. If we increase the price of milk people are going to buy even less. “Bwah…” “No need to get so political, miss. I’m simply offering some feedback about the supply and demand of this product.”

Dad Leon who wears matching outfits with you and his daughter. Is the little one wearing pink today? Guess everyone else will too. 

Dad Leon who tries so hard to teach his baby how to say dada. Da-da Da-da, that word is starting to haunt his dreams. However, life works in funny ways since his little one decided that her first world would be “No.”

Dad Leon who is terrified when his daughter starts walking. Those wobbly steps make him have a heart attack each second. 

Dad Leon who hates it when his kid falls and cries. He would literally just look the other way for a second and boom, his daughter fell to the ground. Between the sobs of his little one, he could hear how she says she got a boo-boo. God, he hates gravity. 

Dad Leon who sometimes cries from happiness. Watching his baby girl grow fills his heart with so much joy and pride. The world was a messed up place but whilst he lives, he’ll make sure that no danger ever comes across you two. 

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader

[koolades-world]

Happy Birthday Mc!

today is my birthday so I decided to make a special post in celebration! this usually won't happen but I figured I'd put in a little extra effort for the occasion!!!

Lucifer

"It's your birthday? Have my best wishes. Meet me in the garden behind the house after dinner. I have a surprise for you. See you then."

treats you to anything you said you wanted over the past year

expect flowers, a giant cake, and dinner at the fanciest place he could find

he feels like he doesn't appreciate you enough, so he practically treats you like royalty

lets you cuddle him to your hearts content <3

Mammon

"Happy birthday, human! What, did ya think I forgot? Of course I didn't. Here, I got this for ya. Get ready for a day of fun with your best man!"

so excited that it's your birthday and goes all out

he's never spent so much money on someone that wasn't himself before, but he couldn't thank you more for everything

makes sure you don't have to lift a single finger, even if you fight him on it

gives you a cute little birthday crown that he made himself, and of course, you wear it with glee

Levi

"Happy birthday! Gah, I hope that didn't sound stupid. I spent forever practicing... You're still listening!? Forget you heard that! This is for you. I hope you like it. It took me a month to decide."

he's so so nervous about giving you your gift, but he makes himself give it to you

he gives you merch for your favorite game that you never thought you'd see in person

also gifts you in game currency for your favorite gacha game since he understands the grind

at the end of the day, he gives you a tight hug before running off, embarrassed

Satan

"Good morning, love. Happy birthday. If you're ready, shall we go out for breakfast? You are? Perfect. I have the day planned just to your liking."

he's got the entire day planned, including all your favorite things and romantic moments

each gift he gives is given at a specific time with a specific meaning

even organizes a trip to the human world so you can visit your family and friends

your day ends in his arms as he reads you a book

Asmo

"Happy birthday gorgeous! You look just amazing. Now, before you say anything, open this. Do you like it? Turn around so I can put it on you!"

totally takes you shopping! even goes as far as to rent out the entire store for you

photo shoot with all the fun new outfits you make

fancy dinner and a large party where you're the center of attention

of course, he pampers you at the end of the day with a nice bath and a massage

Beel

"Happy birthday, Mc. I wasn't really sure what to get you, so I hope you like it. There's a cake for you in the kitchen, but don't wait too long to eat it. I'm hungry."

thought very hard about what to get you, and ask around to get ideas

eventually, he decided to give you something small and offer to take you on a hike somewhere remote and beautiful

treats the day pretty much normal, until he reveals the cake that he made for you

it wasn't perfect, but it meant the world to you that he made it and didn't eat it

Belphie

"Ahh, happy birthday. Your first gift is in my room. What's with the surprise? Just because I sleep so much doesn't mean I'm forgetful."

secretly the best gift giver

he makes it so there's a surprise around each corner for you throughout your day

also gives you a beautiful handwritten letter

one of the few days he's actively awake the entire time

Diavolo

"Happy birthday, sunshine!! I know how much birthdays means to humans, so I went all out. Follow me to the first surprise!"

goes all out and makes the entire Devildom celebrate!

makes it a holiday and gives everyone the day off, so he has more time with you

except the biggest celebration you've ever had

researches into human birthday traditions and plans a cute party including a pinata

Barbatos

"Mc, happy birthday. May your day be filled with many joys. The cake I made for you should be just to your liking. I hope you'll enjoy it."

gives you a beautiful hand made card with his gorgeous calligraphy

treats you to a fancy tea party! super fancy with all your favorite sweets

cooks you your favorite food <3

also says the cutest things to you that makes you feel like you're the only person in the world

Simeon

"Hello! Happy birthday! Lucifer told me you were having a party at the House of Lamentation later. Expect to see me there, but I hope you don't mind if I steal you for now?"

most of his gifts are handmade!

expect a cake he made and help with all your daily tasks so you can get to fun sooner

wants to make sure your day is perfect and extra special

prepares you a cup of hot chocolate at the end of the day for enjoying with your favorite movie

Solomon

"Happy birthday, my apprentice. Now, I know this is a little late, but what do you want for your birthday besides my company? Any potion you want made or wish you want granted? Oh, I can do that. Consider it done, beautiful."

pretends like he forgot your birthday at first, but does a 180 and showers you with all sorts of things

gets you a brand new coat that looks suspiciously like his and when you call him out, he acts like he has no clue what you're talking about

takes you to dinner somewhere casual, but treats you like royalty

he pampers you that night and feeds you dessert <3

Luke

"Happy birthday Mc! Will you open my gift right now? I'm so excited! Do you like it? I blessed it myself so those yucky demons won't be able to steal it. Really? Yay!"

so excited to celebrate with you!

he makes all your favorite desserts, and gives you a lot of little things he gather over the year for you

practically attaches himself to your side all day

talks your ear off!! and wishes you happy birthday at least five times and reminds everyone else to as well

#obey me #obey me! #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me asmo #obey me levi #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me solomon #obey me x reader #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me mc