catstar91 · 2 years ago
Text
Think of this as a message in a bottle; to anyone in the DP fandom (aka Phandom) does anyone know what box ghost denotes as a box?
He talks about rectangular prisms and cubical containers but does he consider those valentines day chocolate boxes to be boxes despite being heart shaped? What about those round boxes or boxes that require a lid but don’t have one? Is there a limit to size? Can a box be any container of any size regardless of material and shape so long as it holds potential of holding?
Anyway I wanted to make a joke comic about Danny practically calling up Box Ghost to ask an expert this stuff to prove a point about a building being a box, but then remembered I don’t actually know if Boxy considers boxes to include stuff we call a box anyway. This may be a dumb question but I need to know if Box ghost would consider a prison a type of time-out box
23 notes · View notes
helpolnix · 6 months ago
Text
May 8th and 9th
My usual check in with Hermes got hijacked, as I’ve been saying. Maybe hijacked isn’t the right word but whatever. I don’t know what really passed my mind to make me think, “I should ask if I’m talking to Hermes,” but I did ask myself that, and after consulting with my pendulum…
I was not talking to Hermes.
Cue some panic. I’m a new practitioner, kinda. I’ve been very very casual about it since I was a kid. Both working with deities and practicing witchcraft. The idea of a deity reaching out first was something I’ve heard of, but why would that happen to me of all people? I didn’t understand it in the slightest. So I haphazardly switched around what questions I asked my tarot cards, even looked up spreads online while my hands shook.
I used my pendulum to ask the gender of the deity first, and stupidly I didn’t think to ask immediately afterwards if it was one of the twelve Olympians. I only thought of that *after* a very confusing tarot spread. Been using tarot cards for years but I was never very disciplined, so I’m still awkward with them sometimes. I need a new deck, too.
So, after guessing wrong no less than 6 times, I finally found out it was Dionysus. I was incredibly befuddled, not knowing why Dionysus would reach out to someone like me. But that was actually on me. After ending the conversation and doing further research, I realized my issues, personality, and identity align very well with him. I read about how he’s helped so many people become more comfortable with themselves and just be more confident.
And I thought, fuck, that is something I want.
Plus I am a former theater kid that still yearns to be on stage sometimes. (Random, but in middle school we actually did Pandora’s box for the school play. I played Pandora. Fun time.)
I slept on it, did some more research, mulled it over all day, then sat down just about an hour ago to write a note to both Hermes and Dionysus. I find letter writing my favorite way to connect with Hermes, and I think the same (along with food offerings, as he asked me for those) will go for Dionysus. I folded the note in a unique way—I’ve been also using this as an excuse to basically learn fucking origami shit—before putting it on my altar for Hermes. Though due to limited space, it will probably have to be shared with Dionysus.
I lit my one puny candle, asked if they were both here with me(they were) and then just thanked them both sincerely while also apologizing to Dionysus for pretty much reducing him to the only surface level things I knew him for. Anyway, I talk about how once I get that job Hermes helped me find, I’ll be spending a hefty bit of it on them. But in the meantime I would be using my pocket money for more.. frivolous shit.
I like buying shit that has no purpose but makes me smile. Sue me.
So I pull two cards then, one for Hermes and one for Dionysus. And oh, they don’t agree on my plan.
It took me a while to realize what they weren’t agreeing on. Sometimes I’ll get words or sentences, and other times I won’t. At that moment the energy around me just felt like bickering. Not incredibly tense, but there was obviously some disconnect. But also for the first time, I could feel how distinctly different Hermes and Dionysus were going to be. Hermes is stern with me. It’s only been a few days, but he is, and he’s definitely going to push me hard. Meanwhile, Dionysus was a lot more.. relaxed? Bubbly, even.
I asked, just to be sure, if they disagreed on something. They did
I asked if it was related to the job. It wasn’t.
Then there was this nagging in my head that told me to ask if it was about the money. How I wanted to spend my pocket money.
Bingo.
He’d rather I don’t do that.
I felt torn. Because yeah the stupid shit I wanted to buy would have made me happy, but Hermes felt pretty insistent that I don’t do that, and instead focus that money on upgrading the altar. Which is something I really want to do anyway. I felt so insanely scolded by him, but not in an extremely rude manner. More like how a teacher would look at you if you’re a little too loud in class.
I asked if he’d like me to buy a statue for him I’ve been eyeing. He said yes.
I asked Dionysus the same, he said no. He’d rather food offerings for the time being.
That was about an hour or so ago. And I guess it pushed me to want to share this. Nobody may see these posts, but I think it’d still be good for me to share my experiences as they come. Maybe they’ll make other newcomers feel less silly when it comes to making mistakes or fumbling around with gods.
As Hermes said to me, “trust the process.”
No silly purchases for me.
17 notes · View notes
friend-of-a-cat · 4 months ago
Text
Gender crisis update: I'm even more confused than I was previously. I've done some more research because at one point I didn't feel like agender really fit because I still felt 'gender', it just wasn't a gender that, like, exists, if that makes sense? I thought I felt a general sense of gender without it being targetted towards a specific gender. Like, I can look at someone and be like 'oh my god, they are so gender and I need their gender' but when I think about it I'm like... eh. Maybe that's just aesthetic attraction talking. Anyway, I did some research about all of this and found some terms but like... I don't know. It's a lot. And I also don't know if I care that much. I mean, I do care, because I'm someone who loves problem-solving and figuring things out (also I have OCD and anxiety so it's been nagging at me) so it's a bit frustrating not knowing what exactly my gender is. But also... I feel like I shouldn't overthink it, you know? It's breaking my brain. Right now, my gender is a question mark. I certainly don't feel like I fully connect with being a woman. At one stage I felt closer to being a guy, because if gender is based on stereotyped interests and behaviours and roles and traits (the only definition I can really understand regarding what gender actually is, because I still don't fully know), I know that I relate more to the idea of being a guy than I do being a woman in that sense (mostly in terms of interests). But I also don't feel like a guy lol. Then I felt a little bit like I could be genderfluid, because I feel like a mixture of masculine and feminine and also neither of those things, but at the same time I still don't 'get' or 'feel' gender, and think it's stupid, and I would rather unsubscribe from it. I also don't relate to being nonbinary (or transgender, for that matter). Which sounds more agender than anything else, but I can't shake the fact that I also don't fully feel like that, at least right at this moment. Probably the feeling I'm feeling is me 'relating' to all genders on the basis of me just thinking that nothing should be gendered in the first place, but then mistaking that for feeling like I am a gender. Who knows? Certainly not me.
So anyway. I'm me, I guess. I think that's all that really matters. I've been trying to figure out what label fits because I thought it might be useful for others to know what I feel and identify as, but the process of finding one has been, frankly, annoying and overwhelming, so I'm just going to leave it for the time being. Though... when someone asks me my gender or my pronouns, what do I say? I guess I'd say that I don't know, but like, where's that on official documents and forms and the like? I wish I could draw an extra box to tick and the box says 'I don't know and I don't care'. Gender is not really all that important to me. Maybe that's a sign that I am, in fact, agender, but I don't know. Might talk to some people about it - not sure yet, because I'm a bit nervous about doing so lol and I don't know if people will get what I'm talking about. But yeah. Honestly, I don't expect anyone to read any of this stuff and I don't mind in the slightest, but hey, it's giving me an excuse to write out my feelings, so take this as a kind of journal entry that I just so happened to publish on the internet for a bunch of strangers to read lmao.
4 notes · View notes
discodiscodemon · 11 months ago
Text
Miscellaneous Fruit #1 (?)
A sigh escapes the man's lips as he makes his way down the hall towards his shared apartment, tugging onto his scarf just to fix it a little more. Lemon, holding a heftily loaded paper bag, knocks on the door rhythmically.
"Tangerine," he raises his voice just enough so his brother could hear him through the door. "Open up. I don't got all day, this shit's heavy."
Fortunately, he didn't have to wait for long. The door swings open, followed by the familiar yet nagging sounds of Tangerine's complaining. Lemon prepares himself for an earful, despite having done nothing wrong.
"The bloody hell have you been? You think you got all fuckin' day?"
"Don't be ridiculous, mate. I've been out for hardly half an hour-"
"Save your sob story, world's worst fuckin' liar. Now get in before I slam this door shut, ya prick."
"And this..." Lemon reaches over and into a bag, materializing a moderately sized box wrapped in wrapping paper. "Well, you'll see."
"Oh, how generous of you, brother," Tangerine sarcastically remarks as he graciously takes the box from his sibling. A hint of suspicion grazes over his expression, prompting the messy-haired man to shake the box, inspecting its contents through rattling auditory clues. "What's in this anyway?"
"If I told you, it'd ruin the fun."
Eyeing his brother with squinted eyes, Tangerine brings the box closer to himself. "Right..."
Lemon looks at his brother as he continues to inspect the box without even opening it, making him let out a light chuckle. "You're allowed to unwrap it, ya know..."
This makes Tangerine scoff, appalled his brother didn't even consider thinking he was about to do that anyway. But he didn't pay that any mind - All that was on his mind was the fact that, well... this was their first Christmas in a long time. He only hopes that wound on his brother's neck doesn't sting more than it should, given that it's been quite some time since he'd returned from the hospital.
Tangerine's hands made quick work of the wrapping paper, scratching away at it like as if he were clawing his way through a dense forest. His eyes set quickly on the box's label. To his dismay, it's already been obscured by some tape, therefore rendering him unable to guess just by the package. Seems like Lemon thought this through, he thought to himself. That's good. Unable to contain his impatience, he goes ahead and pulls the tab of the box up, opening it. Looking into it reveals to him...
"My... necklace? But..." He looks back at his brother, confused. Tangerine points towards a necklace identical to the one in the box, one that hangs from Lemon's neck. "Don't you already have it?"
"I never returned it," Lemon stated calmly. "I got us - well, you - another one." His eyebrows furrow, letting out a gentle sigh as his hand holds his necklace up just by a little. His gaze is fixed onto it as he spoke, "I'm not usually one for necklaces. But... it's not like I'd just throw this away either. So I got you a new one - Without the blood," he smiled at his own joke.
Tangerine returns a look of resignation towards the way his brother feels about the time he thought he'd lost him. He doesn't attempt to smile, however, and instead scoots over to ruffle Lemon's hair.
"Don't think about it too much, mate," his voice lowers. "I'm here - we're here, and that's all that matters." Tangerine holds the box containing the necklace close to him, pulling the accessory out of its container. "I'm sure this is just... some gesture, to commemorate our survival. But..." He looks back up to his brother, who isn't particularly great at maintaining eye contact in situations like these. "If you have any thoughts, don't keep them to yourself, yeah? Mum never taught you to be selfish."
"You're one to talk," he retaliates, speaking softly. Lemon gives his brother an assuring nod.
They share a little moment of silence, not long before Lemon pulls Tangerine into a tight hug. The latter squirms a little in the sudden contact, but he eventually comes to terms with it and lets it slide. He pats the other on the back, resting his head on his shoulder.
"I'm just glad you're safe."
19 notes · View notes
speakingagain · 7 months ago
Text
I have two jobs.
I don't even want to work one job.
I want to stay home, be a recluse, and work on random hobbies and sleep and forget I exist and everything just cease to exist around me and-oh I'm depressed.
Neat.
I wish I had an off button. Or a remote to pause. I took an extra shift tonight, despite working overtime at my full time job and 40 hours the last week at my part time. I also haven't slept more than a couple hours the last three days. I shouldn't be surprised I'm feeling more depressed right now. I mean, it's 4 am, and I have nothing to do while at work for another hour. So what else can I do except think?
And we all know thinking is a dangerous game. Leads to dark parts of my mind that I'd rather stay hidden.
And most of the time it stays hidden, and I can ignore it for the most part. But I also generally get a semi regular amount of sleep. So.
I gotta find some coffee. Maybe a snack. But I also don't want to eat. I just want to go to bed, but that's not going to be possible until after 6 pm tonight. I have a shift at 8 am.
And my mother kind of pissed me off. She constantly nags me about not having enough money, or not doing enough. And then when I'm working overtime and two jobs, she tells me to quit working so much. I made a joke saying I hope they let me go home early for my 3rd shift. She got pissed and yelled at me to stop, saying I "made my bed and I need to lay in it." I know that mom. But we all dream for the day our manager asks us if we want to go home early.
It's impossible to win with her sometimes. Granted, I haven't cleaned the kitchen like she asked. And it's only getting worse. And she has every right to be irritated with me. But my mom is so passive aggressive and impossible to please.
I don't want to deal with her anymore.
I want to live on my own.
I want to live.
But I also want to cease to exist. Not like, "grippy sock time." But I just want to stop being. I want to pause. I want to disengage with the world around me. Fuck I want out of this shit.
I want out of my brain.
I did a therapy assignment yesterday. My therapist is confused about my time line of trauma. I think it's funny when she tries to hide her genuine surprise about all the trauma I've been through. Anyways, she asked me to make a visual timeline of my life.
I made a PowerPoint. The portions including my childhood began to become a little overwhelming. So I added memes to cope. Lots of frog memes. I guess some things never change.
I may need to redo a good portion of it. I left out lots of details, and good things that happened....I can only really think of like two good things though?
I have another session this weekend. I've been trying to find things to bring up for my next sessions like throughout the week. This week, I've got nothing.
She gave me one task, aside from the time line thing. I told her I have a bad habit of holding onto tangible items and struggle with throwing things away and told her about my ex's box of shit he gave me.
She asked about how I feel about thinking about throwing his things away. It made me want to panic, so she asked me to go through the box to see what I might consider getting rid of.
I haven't. Haven't even looked at the box. I don't want to. And it's Thursday. My session is Sunday. I work every day in between, but not Sunday. But Mom wants to go to the mountains Sunday.
I could use a day in the mountains. To breathe.
But fuck me, if I'm not exhausted and just hoping my body will stall like a shitty car. Leave me on the side of the road till I can afford a tow. Sell me on eBay if you can't fix me.
This got deeper than I meant it. Anyways, I don't want to touch the box. I know I should. I know it will do me a world of good in the long run. And she didn't even ask me to throw anything away. Just to consider finding an item that I'd be okay throwing away.
This shouldn't be so hard. This shouldn't give me this much anxiety. This shouldn't be a problem. This shouldn't be MY problem.
He cheated. He abused. He stole. He financially ruined me. He left me in the dust. Why is this my problem?
He should be the one hurting. He should be the one with the anxiety, holding onto my gifts, and perfume and pictures and notes. He should be the one with the problem. He should be missing me.
Why isn't he missing me?
I think I found my session topic.
0 notes
dufreydiaries · 7 months ago
Text
Dufrey Diaries Chapter 16
Lucline sat at the table with Tira beside her. She had set out a few books and a special book used to teach children to read. She had no idea who wrote it, but the person had thought it would be good for the entire old Empire, even if they never had seen half the items used to teach kids to read.
"She this rune here? This is the letter 'A' in the common tongue. Trace it with your finger."
Tira did as she bid, saying "A."
Lucline pointed to the image near the letter. "This is an apple. Apple starts with the letter A."
"A is for apple? What's an apple, Miss Lucline?"
"It's a fruit. They are similar to pears but a different shape and color. You've had pears before?"
The girl nodded. "Papa brings some home on occasion. Usually Mama has to make them into a dish because they are already too bruised to eat by themselves."
"Well, fruit transport isn't a high priority for mages that can help keep things cool, I'm afraid. Now, look at these other books and pick out the 'A' on them, if it's there."
Tira went from book to book, pointing out the 'A's. Soon, she had picked them all out, showing she could recognize the letter.
"Good job." Lucline gave the girl a head pat that earned her a big smile in return. "Now, let's write that letter."
Tira took a charcoal stick and traced the letter A on a scrap piece of paper. Lucline had her do it nine more times until the sketching seems to be effortlessly.
"Good job, Tira. Now, let's move onto the next letter…" She was interrupted by a knock on the door. "I better get that. Why don't you sketch 'A' a little more?"
Tira grinned and went back to the practice as Lucline went over to the door. A member of the watch was standing there.
"Lucline Dufrey?" The man asked.
"Yes, that's me." She informed the official.
"We need you to come with us. There has been an incident and your partner Rasina is hurt."
Lucline frowned. Rasina was upstairs, unpacking her boxes from her move.
"I'm sorry, officer, you must be mistaken. My girlfriend is in her room…"
The man drew his curved sword and pressed it to her neck.
"Why did you have to be so damn smart? A blonde beauty like yourself has no business being so damn intelligent. You should have just come away without fuss."
Lucline smiled, her hand was pointing at the man. A flash of green and he fell over, paralyzed. She felt the blade nick her neck as it fell but that was better than being slashed.
"Tira, bring me my potion belt, sweetheart."
*Elder-Scrolls*
After a healing potion and forcing a sleeping draught down the man's throat, she called for Rasina. Her partner came running down the staits with her sword at the ready, her eyes blazing with anger.
"My own house." She seethed as the real Watch hauled away the impostor. "They came to my own house to try and lure you away so they could get Tira. I'll flay all of them!"
Lucline was worried that such talk would be bad for Tira but the girl's grin worried her more. She looked like she wanted to watch.
"I'm just lucky I knew you were in, love. Had he come when you were really out, I might have been tricked by that. We need to make sure both of us know where the other is at all times, it seems."
Rasina crossed her arms, her lovely features marred with her anger. "Good idea." She admitted. "This Brotherhood is getting on my last nerve. I guess going to Craglorn will be the best idea for awhile."
Lucline nodded. "Tira's mother was all for it when we contacted her yesterday. Anyways, let's get back to your lesson, Tira. I would like to get you used to three letters today."
Tira beamed at her. "Yay!"
Lucline set about continuing the lesson, though the unease of the encounter nagged at her mind. She would not feel safe until those wards were placed on the house.
A/N: The Brotherhood's reach is long. Will anywhere be safe for Tira as Lucline and Rasina continue to guard her? Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
0 notes
fablesofkitkat · 2 years ago
Text
pov: you start to open up to Sero about your family dysfunction
alt. title: i (don't) remember you pt.12
CLICK HERE FOR PART ONE
genre: fluff
Now it's three in the morning and I'm trying to change your mind
- Arctic Monkeys
Tags: @vanilacaramel @vtte @blushycontent @charlie-xo @happilyheavenproductions @bl--ankhaeji @mattesatoruuu @that-fic-girl @comehome2myheart @hanta-fr-fr @fancyjellyfishcake @bolinbxby @shijjii @aki47-hayakawa @eijis-stuff @ectoplasmictoast @duchess-l @sana-li @ranrandomesss
Tumblr media
When Sero came back to the dorms despite being 2:00 in the morning, you hugged him tight as if you wanted to seep into his skin. It was apparent that you wouldn't let him go when you jumped and locked your legs together around his waist. He has to carry you now. He went home for the weekend since his ma was nagging him to come visit.
And then during the good night call, he asked you what's wrong and somehow his words was the impetus to the dam of your feelings bursting forth.
"Want to talk about it?"
You burrowed your face in his chest, avoiding eye contact. "You know I mentioned that my parents were college sweethearts, right?"
"Yeah, it's nice." His hands are under your thighs holding you up as he navigates the way to his dorm room.
"Did I ever tell you how my dad decided he was gonna marry my mom?"
Sero shook his head. "No."
"He said the moment he saw her, he knew he was going to marry her." You lean your face away, staring at a spot on his shoulder. "Can you imagine feeling so strongly for someone the first time you saw them and you just knew?"
Because it wasn't like that for us. The thought snuck in with no warning.
You went on, "And I think that's why I think he made a mistake you know because I think he got blinded and failed to see and know who my mom really was."
"But your mom and dad's been married for almost 20 years."
"Yeah," you slumped over him once more, resting your chin on his left shoulder. "I think it's also because for awhile, my dad had to work abroad for higher pay. So alot of their relationship was spent in long distance."
"That's amazing." Sero comments as he reached the door of his dorm room, without needing his prompt you reached and turned the door knob. "Long distance relationships are  hard."
"Yeah, my mom has this huge plastic box that contained letters. Handwritten. Their letters to each other. They used cute stationaries. Letters with actual stamps. I think I used to sneak around and read those letters when I was around 1st grade."
"You think?" He quirked a brow at that as he used one foot to push open the door.
You rolled your eyes. "I snuck around. Happy now, you grammar nazi?"
Sero's lips pressed quickly on your forehead as he laughed.
"Anyways my mom, she's not bad—"
He chuckled, kicking the door gently to close while you glared at him. "I'm sorry. It's just— you're saying it like you're leaving a review on your mom."
"Do you want me to go on?"
"Please." Sero walks over to his hammock, sat on it, and lied down with you still in his arms.
"She wasn't really there for us, for her kids. She never went to PTA meetings. She never oversaw our studies. She hired tutors sure, had nannies to take care of us but she wasn't there which was okay, no big deal. I wasn't hurt by it but she had these expectations that she's the most perfect mother in the world." You adjusted your body to lay in a position that's perfect for you and Sero when you said, "Tell me when your body's getting numb."
"'Kay."
"So, my mom wants us to do things like post our greetings on social media on her birthday. Greeting her outside of that doesn't count.Also on mother's day too. She wants to show off all the time." Your forefinger finds its way to Sero's jaw, tracing the shape. "Everything about me is about her especially after getting into U.A., I guess it's because she was the pretty girl in high school and college, she got used to everything being about her. Sucks I didn't inherit her looks."
He put his hand over your wrist. "What do you mean by that?"
"I'm not as pretty as her."
"You're pretty. The prettiest, cariño."
You looked at him thoughtfully and hummed. "I see, interesting." You broke into a smile.
"I'm a bad influence on you. Now you're dishing sass left and right." He grins while his fingers find the spaces between yours, holding your hand. You hear the whizzing of the tape to see Sero using his tape quirk to wound it on the door knob so he can pull on the tape to swing the hammock. "What about tío?"
"He's the best. When my siblings and I were toddlers, he actually stayed here and found work here instead of overseas." You start to smile as you remembered things fondly. "I remember his mango smoothies and coconut smoothies."
"Not strawberries?"
"Mango is the best flavor. But my dad is also a jerk. He's. . . hard to please." You stare at Sero's face, wondering if there will ever be a day you'd get sick of his face. Kami, he's so cute. "I remember the first time I joined a spelling bee contest and I got 2nd place. I was so excited that I got a medal. I come up to him and he asked me, 'why not first?'"
"Wow."
"I know. That's when I know I wouldn't get his approval unless I aim for first. So I didn't. Why exhaust myself to something that's going to take a whole lot of time pleasing someone else when I could just do whatever?" You sniffed at Sero, his cologne smells good. "Besides, if I do become like first all the time, he'd want me to maintain it so.."
"So tío is hard to please?"
"Used to be, now I call him out. And he's soft on me."
"You're a daddy's girl."
"I am."
"Oh. . . so like, you can call me daddy— ow! You smack like you're doing a spike on a volleyball. Sadist." He studies the expression on your face, and tentatively asks, "you feeling better?"
You press a quick kiss on his cheek. "Yeah."
---
AN: I wanted to write angst so why am I writing fluff. Really sorry if this doesn't resonate with your family dysfunction. I usually make reader's backstory vague as possible.
---
<- PREVIOUS NEXT ->
182 notes · View notes
kireimarkeu · 4 years ago
Text
To You; l.dh
Tumblr media
+another repost! did not make any changes to this work :) p.s this is one of my fav fics i have written :)
summary; bored in quarantine, your boyfriend decides to film himself telling you how much he loves you.
3k words
this was like… ½ edited LMFAO so there might,,, be mistakes…??? this was so tiring to make omfg, enjoy!! lol 
also i mixed the name donghyuck and haechan bc i couldn’t choose one lmfao ok!!! bye gn enjoy!! :)))))))
warnings: there’s a word f*t in it
+Day 1 3:34PM
Haechan adjusted the camera, making sure he could be seen. Once he was sure the camera was reflecting him properly, he leaned back against his gaming chair. 
“Um,” your boyfriend started, looking everywhere but the camera. “This is awkward,” he says, looking back at the camera.
“I started this, since we won’t be able to see each other for a month- because of quarantine,” he explains, “I honestly have no idea what I’m doing right now,” he laughs. 
After a few minutes of pure silence, your boyfriend opened his mouth to continue speaking, “I just feel like— I never really show much love to you?” 
There were times where your boyfriend would purposely avoid saying ‘I love you’ or avoid holding your hands whenever the both of you were outside. Honestly, you didn’t really mind, knowing Donghyuck was never the type to show affection. 
“It’s hard,” he says truthfully, “The boys knows how much I love you, and it sucks that I don’t know how to show you— or tell you, that I love you.”
Haechan bit his lips nervously, “and, I think this video is- or will prove that I love you?”
He wasn’t sure if he was even making sense at this point. 
Your boyfriend groaned, throwing his head back, covering his face with his hands. After a while, he looked back at the camera, “you know what, babe? Just watch the whole thing, okay?”
+Day 4 11:47PM
“Hi,” he smiles, letting out a huff, “this is kinda late, I spent the whole night playing games,” he says guiltily, playing with his fingers, looking away from the camera.
He knows that you didn’t like it when he would stay up until ungodly hours just to play games with his friends. You hated how he would put his health aside just to play games. 
He brings his hands up to brush his wet hair. 
“Uh,” he sighs out loud, pouting. “I feel bad for staying up late last night, so I’m going to spend the whole night with you today,” he laughs. 
Another moment of silence pass. 
“I don’t know what to say,” he whines. 
He sat there in silence, staring at the ground, figuring out on what to say. Should he tell you about his day?
“Well, I woke up at 5PM today,” he tells you, “I ate dinner with my family— mom cooked chicken today!” he says happily, “Then, I went to call you for a bit because I missed you a little too much,” he pouts. 
He scratched his head, “then I showered and now this-“ he says, pointing to the camera. 
“Um, it has been 4 days and I miss you too much,” he says truthfully, “facetiming isn’t working, I think I’m going crazy,” he laughs. 
+Day 5 7:38PM
He was talking halfway, talking about how much he admires you when his phone started ringing. 
“Oh?” he turns around to grab his phone from his bed. A smile formed on his face when he saw you facetiming him. 
He turned to the camera to show his screen, “Baby, you’re calling me,” he giggles before quickly answering to your facetime. 
“Channie~” you whine cutely when your boyfriend answered your facetime, “what are you doing, hyuckie?”
Usually, your boyfriend would complain whenever you would speak in a cute voice, but he secretly likes it. He secretly likes being babied. 
He looks at the camera that was recording the both of you. 
“Nothing,” he lies, “why did you call me, loser?”
You huff, raising your arms so he could see you laying on the bed. “I’m bored, hyuckie~ entertain me~”
He leans back on his chair, “wanna play games with me?”
Your face beam at his words, “Okay! I’ll get my X-Box ready now.”
Your boyfriend was the one who bought for you the X-Box. Well, it was an old version, but you loved it, nonetheless. It wasn’t like you played daily— you only played with boyfriend. 
“I’ll call you in 5, baby,” he tells you, already walking over to turn on the tv. 
“Kay, bye-bye, love you, Hyuckie,” you say in a baby voice, bringing your phone closer to press your lips on the camera. 
Donghyuck scrunched his nose in disgust, “yeah, yeah,” he says before ending the call. 
He quickly grab the camera that was still recording, he moved the camera closer to press a kiss, “I love you too, y/n.”
+Day 7 3:01PM
“Do you remember when you gave me the teddy bear— Oh my gosh, I feel like a youtuber,” he cackles. He shook his head, focusing back to what he was saying. 
“So, do you remember when you gave me the teddy bear?” he asks, “wait,” he says, standing up to grab the tiny teddy bear that was sitting on his bed. 
You had bought him the bear during your 200th day with him. Donghyuck didn’t really give the reaction you wanted. 
“Do you not like it?” you had asked him, disappointment laced in your voice. You didn’t dare look at him, upset with yourself that you had bought something that he didn’t like. 
“No, no!” he quickly replied, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, the other holding the tiny bear. “I love it,” he says. 
You knew it was a lie. He didn’t seem to like it. 
“I love it,” he says, “I know I didn’t show like I did at that time, but I need it with me every time I go to bed.” 
He scratches his head, regretting his actions that has had happened months ago. 
“No one has ever bought me a bear before,” he explains, “and when you bought it for me, it just felt— I felt, I felt happy? I felt fulfilled? Do you know what I mean?” 
“I really wanted to tell you that I loved your present, especially when you had bought me another present a few days later,”
‘it was to make up for the previous present’ was your reason. 
It broke his heart when you said that while handing him a couple bracelet. He wanted to tell you how much he loved your gift, but it was so hard for him. 
“I hated myself for not being able to tell you the truth, it’s hard—and it still is,” he sighs, “I hope by doing this, I can assure you that I love you..?” 
+Day 10 9:34PM
He was in the middle of filming himself when his mother comes in. 
“Donghyuck-ah, what are you doing? Do you want some fruits?” his mother asks, looking at his son, not noticing the camera perched on the dressing table. 
Instead of answering his mother’s question, he grabs the camera to film his mother. 
“Eomma, say hello to y/n,” Donghyuck says. 
His mother raised her eyebrows in surprised, “hello my dear y/n~ how are you?”
Your boyfriend giggle from behind the camera, “tell her how much you miss her,”
“I think I miss you more than Donghyuck does,” she jokes. “What is this for, Donghyuck-ah?”
Haechan placed the camera back on the dressing table, turning to look at his mum.
“I’m making a video for y/n until quarantine is over,” he explains as his mother walks in, wrapping her arm around her son’s shoulder. 
His mother’s heart warmed at his son’s words. 
“You’re growing up way too fast, our Donghyuck~” she cooed, pulling your boyfriend’s cheeks as he whined in pain. 
You would also pinch his cheeks almost every time the both of you are together. Whenever you had Donghyuck’s cheeks between your fingers, he would whine, pulling away from your grip.
“Eomma! I want strawberries!” he shouts after his mother left his room. 
He turns his attention back to the camera, “Anyways—”
+Day 17 2:35AM
“I really like your eyes,” Haechan confesses dreamily, “your eyes are the colour of shit,” he jokes, “but they’re so shiny, baby,”
The first time he realizes he’s in love with your glimmering eyes was when he brought you out on a date to star gaze. You were staring at the sky, a smile plastered on your face, amazed at how beautiful the sky was. 
When you noticed your boyfriend staring at you, you turned to face him. Your eyes captured his heart. How could someone have such bright eyes?
“Oh! And when you smile, you make my heart beat like crazy!” he chuckles. 
The first thing that caught Hyuck’s eyes when he had a crush on you was your bright smile. He believes that was the main reason that he fell for you. How you would always have a beaming smile plastered on your face everywhere you go. 
He thinks it’s adorable. 
The small dimples that was on the side of your lips whenever you smile. 
And your adorable little laugh he adores so much. 
Or the little birthmark you had on the corner of your mouth. 
After talking about you for a while, he let out a satisfied sigh, “I’m so whip for you, you know?”
After 17 days of making videos for you, it started becoming easier for him to show his love for you. 
“Everything you do makes me go crazy, do you realise that?” he asks you, “do you realize that everything you do makes me happy? No, you don’t have to do anything, your presence makes me melt.”
He laughs at how he was flirting, “you’re probably laughing too,”
His laughter died down, letting out a tired sigh, “well, it’s late and I’m going to go to bed before you nag at me some more,”
He let out a yawn, “goodnight y/n, I love you so much, you don’t know how happy you make me,”
+Day 20 2:56PM
This time, it was different. 
He was filming himself at McDonalds drive-thru. 
“Guess who’s this for?” he asks the camera, his gaze on the road. “Yes, you.”
He turns to look at the camera for a second before paying attention on the road, “you didn’t ask me to get you anything but I wanted to get something for you,” he explains. 
He was lying, this was just an excuse to see you, even for a second. Even if it’s 6 feet apart. Even if there was a glass between the both of you. 
“I think you know the reason why I’m buying this for you,” he says, referring to the food. “To make you fat! You’re right, y/n,” he jokes. 
That was also a lie. You tend to eat less whenever you’re stressed. 
After he found out that you had a project, he knew how stress you would be, and decided to get food, making sure you eat healthily. 
Your boyfriend would never fail to remind you how much he loves your body. No matter shape or size. He has always made sure you feel loved with who you are. 
“I think you know the real reason why I’m coming over,” he adds. When he reaches a red light, he turns to look at the camera with a pout, “I can’t help it, I miss you too much, y/n,” he says in a baby voice. 
He grimaces at his actions, shaking his head disapprovingly, “I am never doing that ever again.”
A few minutes later, he reached your house. He had texted you to that he was waiting for you outside. 
It took you a while to come out, but when you did, you had one of his hoodies over your body. 
He loves it when you wear his clothes, it makes him feel all giddy. 
‘One day, I’m going to wear all of your clothes’ he would say whenever you steal his clothes. 
You walked over to his car, “what the hell are you doing here, dummy,” you ask him, maintaining the distance. 
He grabbed the bag of food from the passenger’s seat and passed it to you from the window of his car. 
“Brought you food, you unappreciative bitch,” he tells you while you walk up to grab the food from him. 
You open the bag to see your favourite food, “my favourite food, too?!” you squeal, “Haechan best boyfie~”
He rolls his eyes, “yeah, yeah, go and finish your project,”
You nodded, the smile not leaving your face. 
“I’ll facetime you later?” he asks. 
“At 11,” you confirmed. 
He nods, signalling for you to go back in. You blow a kiss to your boyfriend before turning around to go back in. 
He quickly fishes out his camera, filming you walking back in your house. 
“Look at my baby all happy because I brought her food,” he says, “enjoy your food, pretty,”
+Day23 6:07PM
“Day 23,” he breathes out. “I didn’t expect it to go by so fast,” he blurts out. 
He puffs his cheeks out, “I don’t want to stop making videos for you, but you would just make fun of me for being soft,”
He had started growing content on making videos for you every day. 
“But at the same time, I can finally see you after a month, babe!” he says happily. “I can finally hold you in my arms, we can kiss until the world ends, we can also do it,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. 
Well, he can’t lie he did miss doing it with you. 
He sighs, “anyway, when we can finally get together, we can watch movies, then come back to my place and we can cuddle!”
He missed that. 
Personally, Donghyuck preferred going over to your place but you preferred going to his place because he had games and a huge bed, and it was just comfortable. 
“Ahh,” he groan, “I miss you like crazy! I think I have to end this video early because I wanna facetime you right now,”
He grabs his phone on the table to call you. 
“Okay, bye babe, I love you, I’m going to talk to you now!”
+Day 25 4:03AM
“Hi,” donghyuck greet the camera. 
Anyone could realise he wasn’t in the best mood. 
It took Donghyuck a while to start talking, “we had a fight earlier today,” he says, his voice lace with disappointment and… hurt?
You had texted him just an hour ago, ranting about your homework. When Donghyuck replied to you a minute later, you got angry at him because he was staying up again at ungodly hours. 
He didn’t understand why you were so angry because you were awake at the same timing as he is. 
“I’m going to give you space, because it’s what you need right now,” he says. “I hope you know I still love you no matter what,”
He bit his lip hesitantly, “I know you don’t like it when I stay up with the boys, but I don’t like you staying up to finish your work either, baby”
He closes his eyes shut for a moment, taking a deep breath. “I hope you don’t get too stressed over school, eat healthily, and make sure you rest from time to time, babygirl,”
He lets out another sigh before reaching for the camera, “I love you,”
+Day 28 7:36PM
 Haechan purses his lips, staring at the camera, “today is a bad day,” he starts. 
Today he had woke up a little earlier than normal after talking it out with you a few days ago. He decided to get up early and help his mom with cooking, which only resulted him in getting scolded by his mother for making a mess. 
After that, he decided to play games with his friends, however despite playing for 5 hours straight, he didn’t get a single win. 
Now, he has tried to contact you, but you have not replied to him. Probably busy with school. 
He let out a huff, “take a break y/n,” he whines, “focus on me too~”
Letting out a pout he shakes his head, “kidding babe, get those A’s!”
“Well, now I don’t really have anything to do so I’m going to facetime you again, bye babe!”
+Day 30 10:18AM
“Hyuckie!” you call out, running to your boyfriend. When you reached him, you threw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck, making him stumble back a few steps as he grabs on your waist. 
You hid your face in his neck, breathing in his scent. He smells so good.
“You’re not going to let go of me until I say so,” you mumble, tightening your grip around his neck.
He chuckles at you, “I won’t let go of you until you say so,” 
Donghyuck was satisfied with having his arms wrapped around your waist, his face covered in your hair. 
After a few moments of the both of you just holding each other, you finally pull away from your boyfriend. 
“Y/n,” he says, making you hum.
“Wait,” you stop him, making him stare at you with wide eyes as he froze on the spot. 
“Can you kiss me first?” you ask. His eyes soften at your request. Your fingers trace his bottom lips, “I miss your pretty lips.”
He smiles at your words and nodded. Pulling you closer by your waist, he pressed his lips against yours. Your hands rest on his chest while you both share a needy kiss. 
After a few minutes, you pull away, breathless with crimson red cheeks.
Haechan raised his eyebrows as he resumed, “I made something for you,”
You gasped, “what is it?”
He fishes out a CD player. The CD held videos of him explaining how much he loves and appreciates you throughout the whole month. 
He passes you the gift. 
“Watch this at home?” he tells you. 
You grab the CD from his grip, “okay? What is this all about?”
“Just promise me you’ll watch it at home?” he asks again, staring down at you. 
“I will! I will!” 
After making videos of himself for 29 days straight, Donghyuck have concluded that he was so utterly in love with you. He was so in love with you that he didn’t know how to express how much he adores you.
2K notes · View notes
Text
A Period Drama
Summary: When that time of the month hits, Y/n wants nothing more than to curl up in bed and forget about the world. Lucky for her, Dean has other plans. 
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 2.1K+
Warnings: Language, discussion of menstrual cycle 
Author’s Note: I guess I'm emotional this cycle, who knew? Anyway, I wrote this because I wanted to die the other day, and imagining Dean's cuddles was the only way for me to get through it. This is a work of self-indulgence and therefore the Reader is a little less non-descript than I usually try to write, but that's what these things are for! Hope this helps my fellow menstruating people lie it did me xoxo Alex
Check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!
Tumblr media
A nagging sensation tugged on her strings of consciousness, bringing the sleeping huntress back to the world of the living. Her mind fought against waking, knowing not nearly enough time had passed since she had retreated to her room the previous evening. As the ache deep in her abdomen became more obvious, she stopped fighting and opened her eyes to the darkness of her room. 
“Fuck,” she groaned as she tossed the covers from her body, instantly missing the heat they provided in the recess of the bunker. Y/n rolled from the bed and stood, the action occurring too quickly and the huntress felt the familiar rush between her legs. She cursed herself as she bounded off to the bathroom on the opposite end of the hallway. The socks on her feet muffled her hurried steps as she passed the boys’ rooms. 
Once inside, she went straight for the showers and turned the hot water all the way up. Steam enveloped the space as she stripped her soiled panties and old t-shirt from her body. She let the bathroom turn into a makeshift sauna as she rinsed the blood from her undergarments before finally stepping into the boiling shower. 
It was unclear how long she stood under the water, searing her flesh and scrubbing away the metaphorical grime, all she knew was the relentless heat was managing to ease the ache from her angry uterus. The tentative knock on the bathroom door snapped her back from the silent reverie she had been indulging in, and Y/n noted how the water had gone almost cold. It was likely she had been in there long enough for Sam to have taken his morning run and if her own body wasn’t attacking itself, she might have felt guilty about using up all the bunker’s hot water. 
When she walked out in just a towel, her dirty pajamas rolled into a ball in her arms, she was met with a confused younger Winchester. All she could mutter was a weak ‘sorry’ before she breezed past him and back to her room. The huntress wrapped herself into a pair of sweats and a clean tee, braided her hair out of her face, swallowed a few pain killers, and crawled back under her covers. She thanked whatever higher power had made sure they were hunt-free for the foreseeable future so she could spend the day curled up in a ball. The pills kicked in quick enough to allow her to easily slip back into a blissful sleep.
****
It was nearing one in the afternoon when Dean made his way back inside the bunker, his hands covered in grease and oil from his work tuning up the Impala. He was wiping his hands on an equally dirty towel as he walked into the kitchen to find his little brother making himself a lunch. 
“Please tell me that is not your veggie bacon?” Dean wrinkled his nose as he watched Sam putting together a BLT, the various ingredients strewn about the island. 
“Fine, then I won’t tell you,” Sam didn’t bother to look up from his task to answer his brother. The look of disgust only depended on Dean’s face as he moved around his sibling to wash his hands in the sink. 
The older hunter glanced over his shoulder as the sound of shuffling footsteps grew louder, his gaze landing on a disheveled Y/n. The sweats that hung from her body were wrinkled and she had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. There were lines across the left side of her face, indicating she had been sleeping recently. Worry instantly flooded his system as it was unlike their hunting partner to sleep this late unless she was ill. 
“Sam, what did you do with my heating pad?” her voice was coarse as she didn’t even bother with pleasantries. No ‘hello’, no ‘ how are you’, just straight to whatever business she had in with the younger Winchester. 
“Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s in the linen closet in the bathroom?” Sam answered, completely unperturbed by her callousness.
“So you put my heating pad in the bathroom,” Y/n rolled her eyes and Sam could only offer her a bewildered nod. “What is with you guys and not being able to put shit back where you found it?” The huntress turned on her heel, not waiting for a response before heading to retrieve the item she was seeking. 
Sam looked over his shoulder at his older brother, his brows knit together in the middle of his forehead. “What the hell was that?” 
“What’s the one thing Y/n uses her heating pad for?” Dean’s lips cured up on one side as he watched the look of realization flash across his brother’s features. The oldest Winchester dried his hands before peeking in the fridge and a few cupboards. “Looks like she could use a supply run. You need anything?” 
“Nah, I’m just going to retreat to my room and pretend like I don’t exist for the rest of the day,” Sam picked up the plate that held his lunch and scurried off, leaving a chuckling Dean behind. 
****
The only light filling her room came from the laptop that was perched in her lap, playing some television show she had stopped paying attention to a while ago, and the filtered light from the hall through the slats in her door. The huntress was still curled into a ball under her covers, attempting to use what little bit of heat from her computer she could muster as she had been unsuccessful in located her heating pad. She felt bad for ripping into Sam about it, but the truth was he had misplaced her belongings, something that she found happened often around the Winchesters, and she was over it today. Pain tended to make her grumpy, as it did most people, and she wasn’t going to apologize for being pissed at their carelessness. 
A soft rapping against her door had her pausing the show as she shoved the device aside. The guest didn’t wait for a response before they pushed the door open, bringing with them a flood of light. Y/n cringed at the sudden change, hiding her face behind her hand. 
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Dean’s familiar chuckle sounded before the click of the latch indicated he had closed the door behind him. “I come bearing gifts.” 
“What?” she was confused by his words as she dropped her hand and allowed her eyes to adjust back to the relative darkness. 
“Your water bottle, half ice, half water,” he set the green canteen on her bedside table. “The heating pad Sammy somehow managed to lose behind the washing machine,” Dean handed her the light green pad folded neatly with the cord sitting on top. Y/n sighed a breath of relief as the eldest Winchester continued. “And a sharable size bag of dark chocolate peanut M&M’s.”
“Dean,” Y/n caught the purple bag as he tossed it her way, biting back a gleeful moan. “I fucking love you.” She unceremoniously tore into the bag and popped a couple of the chocolate candies into her mouth, missing the rush of blood on the Winchester’s cheeks. 
“And finally,” he mimicked a drum roll with his mouth and procured a box from his arms, placing it on her bedside table. The woman frowned, unable to make out the object at first in the darkness. 
“You bought me tampons? How,” she trailed off, not only awestruck by the hunter’s gesture but amazed at his attention to detail as she read the label. 
“There is only one thing you need your heating pad for,” he remarked as he took the referenced object back to plug it into an outlet for her. “Also, you never snap at Sammy.”
“But how did you know what kind to buy?” 
“Kind of hard not to when you have a box of them stashed away in Baby’s trunk,” Dean countered as he perched himself on the edge of her bed. 
“Hey, those are for emergencies. Besides, I’m sure Baby understands.”
“I’m sure she does.” 
Y/n chewed on the inside of her cheek as she fiddled with the bag of candy in her lap, the kindness shown by Dean throwing her off. She offered the open bag to her hunting partner, who snatched a handful for himself with a grin. 
“Thank you, Dean, seriously. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” her voice was low as the admittance slipped past her lips. “Want to watch some Scooby-Doo with me? You know, if you aren’t busy or anything?”
“I’d love to, sweetheart,” Dean winked at her, that shit-eating grin never leaving his face even as he stood and shucked off his jacket and boots so he could climb into the bed next to her. “Who could pass up Daphne?”
The huntress sat back against the headboard with a roll of her eyes and switched the streaming show on her laptop before unfolding her already warmed heating pad and laid it across her lower abdomen. She moved the laptop at the end of the bed so they could both see it and set the bag of M&M’s between her and Dean to share. 
The two settled into the cartoon, laughing in unison at the ridiculous parts and commenting on how the Scooby gang couldn’t have handled that monster had it been real. Three episodes passed by before a shredding cramp ripped through her stomach, the shock of it enough that she was unable to hide the groan as she had been so far. 
“You okay?” Dean shifted in his spot next to her, his head turning from the kids’ show to his friend beside him.
“No, I’m not okay. It feels like my internal organs are attempting to exit my body,” she snapped, instantly regretting it when Dean subtly recoiled. “Shit, I’m sorry. I--I didn’t mean…” Y/n was cut off as the pain returned just as intense as it had been moments ago, causing her to roll onto her side and into a ball, clutching the heat of the pad against her body like a lifeline. 
“Alright,” Dean huffed before moving the candy and laptop from the bed. Y/n could hear the hunter shift behind her, but her eyes were clamped shut as she tried to breathe through the pain like she was experiencing the contractions of labor of something. She felt the hard lines of his body lock around the curves of her own and his arm snake around her abdomen. His hand rested over hers as he pulled her tight against him, putting more pressure than she had been able to muster against her lower belly. “I’ve got you.”
The heat of his body on one side and the pad against her stomach, combined with the force he was exerting on her uterus, finally allowed her to relax fully for the first time since she had awoken that morning. She never wanted to leave this moment, utterly content in the peace that his presence in her bed brought her. The idea scared her a little, but she figured that was a problem for another day. Now she chose to just live in this moment for as long as he would let her. 
“Why?” she muttered into the dark space after she was sure he had fallen asleep as his grip had relented a touch and his breathing evened out, hoping he wouldn’t answer but knowing she had to ask. 
“Cause I wanted to,” his voice was gruff, indicating he had probably been on the cusp of falling asleep when she spoke up. “I hate seeing you like this. Figured it was the least I could do.”
“Dean Winchester, are you going soft on me?” she quirked up one corner of her lips, unable to fight the giddiness his words instilled in her chest. 
“Sweetheart, there is nothing soft about me when I’m around you,” he chuckled, earning himself an elbow to the gut. He grunted and the two of them fell into a fit of laughter. 
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” The hunter was ready for her arm this time, his hand moving to wrap around her forearm and pull it into him so as to trap her even tighter than before in his embrace. Y/n struggled against his hold, giggling like an idiot as the two wrestled in the bed a moment before she relented that he was much stronger than she. 
“Honestly,” Dean placed a gentle kiss to her shoulder once she had settled, only encouraging her to melt further into his arms. “I’d do anything to make you smile, Y/n.”
“Well, then mission accomplished, Winchester,” she turned her head to flash him a genuine smile to which he reciprocated before planting his pillow-soft lips against hers.
Tumblr media
P.S. I didn't even try on this title because this is just a little therapy piece and therefore no one should judge me. 
Forevers: @22sarah08​ @440mxs-wife​ @akshi8278​ @anathewierdo​ @asgoodasdancingqueen @atc74​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ @briagallen​ @callmekda​ @dawnie1988​ @deandreamernp​ @deangirl93​ @deanwanddamons​ @ellewritesfix05​ @emoryhemsworth​ @foxyjwls007​ @hobby27​ @janicho88​ @jbsgirl4ever11​ @jensengirl83​ @lunarmoon8​ @lyarr24​ @mishacollins4evah @miss-nerd95​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @msmarvelouswinchester​ @polina-93​​ @sleepylunarwolf​ @squirrelnotsam​ @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan​ @suckmyapplejacks​ @supraveng​ @tatted-trina6​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @traceyaudette​ @tranquility-or-chaos​​ @waywardbeanie​ @winchest09​ 
409 notes · View notes
a-jynx · 3 years ago
Text
:0 uh more Dream smp stuff?? cause y’all liked the other one??? (Georgenotfound edition & kinda long)
being Dream’s sister was rough already so imagine how tough life gets when you start dating one of his besties???
you met george through dream - obviously - and well.. putting it kindly, you hated each other. I mean, HATED each other! It always became a rivalry between you two, shooting down one another’s video ideas and never compromising until Sap or Dream stepped in.
“why do you hate him?” dream groaned as he watched you dislike ANOTHER Georgenotfound video. you glanced up at your freakishly tall brother before scoffing
“because he’s a spoilt brat and.. and he shouldn’t expect everyone to grovel like you do.” you scoffed, as Dream groaned, scrubbing his hands over his face.
“y/n,”
“nope, nuh-uh you green tellatubby i’m not befriending him.”
“you’ve been hanging out with techno and tommy on discord too much.. Anyway, just.. please TRY and get along with him? at least pretend for a little bit - the fans get all protective and will baby him before they defend you..” dream’s voice trailed as he sat next to you, making you huff.
“ofc they’d baby him.. and it’ll be fine - I’ll be fine, Clay! I’m a big kid, some trolls on the internet won’t upset me.” you grinned, wrapping an arm around your little brother’s shoulders. he rolled his eyes before poking his index into your ribs, causing you to yelp.
“okay, but i warned you and i’ll try and help if stuff gets too much, okay? remember you’re my sister.. i still worry about you.”
“okay, don’t get sappy you waking tree! we have a stream to start,”
which lead to now.. A Geoguesser and Jack Box stream with the Dream Team ft. y/nwasnttaken - it started out awesome! The chat was having a blast having their boys stream, the guys were happy to be streaming, and you were having a great time.. until George came after you for guessing the wrong country..
“seriously, y/n?? you were, like, a million miles away!” george snorted as sap and dream joined in the laughter, you sighed before faking a short laugh.
“please, you usually suck at this game and it was one bad guess while you’ve been guessing wrong foe the past five minutes.” you couldn’t hold back the slight venom in your voice as the discord grew an awkward silence as chat began to grumble about the sudden change in atmosphere.
“chill, y/n/n, i don’t think George had an real issue, right Gogy?” sap nervously chuckled, he knew just as well as dream that for some reason you and george were always at one another’s throat.
“yeah, i had to ill intent, it’s called playful banter, y/n lighten up, honey,”
“is this just go after y/n day or what? i don’t mean to be an asshole but you’ve been after me the entire stream! and maybe the fans and you guys don’t care, but it’s hard to act like im not affected by you constantly bashing me and then laughing when dream or sap - or even yourself - get it wrong!” you grew quiet once your piece was out in the air, your heart was pounding against your ribs and you felt like you were going to be sick. “i..”
“y/n/n,”
“no! no, it’s… im just going to go, you guys have a good stream.” you quickly exited the discord call, closing out of all your tabs and leaving yourself to stare at your shrunk form.. oh shit..
you grabbed your phone and opened Twitter, a mistake honestly, it was already trending.. clips, screenshots, and the #nightmareofasibling in the US. you gawked at the screen - tapping the hashtag, you should’ve listened to Dream..
‘i knew they were lousy but my god it’s a game..’
‘they always act like they’re better when they aren’t, poor gogy 💔😔’
‘i feel bad for dream and sapnap - they have to live with that 😳’
‘@y/nwasnttaken you disgust me and i can’t believe they even tolerate you. rot’
each @, each tweet was one wishing for your demise or saying that the dream team deserves better. maybe they’re right but you had a right to stand up for yourself! sure.. it was a over a geoguesser game but dealing with that for an hour in a half, anyone would be tired of it.
tears were already starting to drip as you hastily wiped at your cheeks, attempting to keep the water works at bay. it got harder when a ping went off from your phone, indicting another tweet was made at you. even with your blurred vision you frowned as @GeorgeNotFound popped up.
‘Regarding the stream, I do not hate y/n. Nor do I want hate sent to them. I will not tolerate any of my fans hating on one of my friends, it was partly my fault for antagonize them.
I care for them deeply and I hope they know how sorry I actually feel and the guilt rushing through me while I write this. I hope you can forgive me, sweets.. @y/nwasnttaken’
you hiccuped a laugh, a small smile breaking across your lips. you liked the tweet before heading to discord to find your messages had been blown up - Niki, Wilbur, and George had sent you multiple messages asking how you were. Selecting George’s messages, you grinned..
‘y/n?? hey come back to the stream’
‘i was kidding, come on, this is how we work..’
‘okay, i’m starting to get freaked out cause you’re not answering and twitter is spamming- shit i need to fix’
the messages had stopped for a few minute before a small video was sent, showing george in his recording room.
“y/n i’m honestly really sorry, it was dumb of me to keep poking at you when you looked and sounded like you didn’t like it - it’s just.. that’s how we’ve always been! i just.. please message me when you can? i know dream’s already pissed at me, and sap won’t stop threatening me to fix this now - even though they laughed too - BESIDES the point… just message me soon?” he sheepishly sent the camera a small smile, his cheeks and nose a slight red. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes before quickly typing him.
‘y’know i have half a mind to be pissed at you, but.. i’m sorry too. i should’ve have blown up at you or the others, especially on stream.. can - can we hop on call and sort this out?’
Gogster is typing… Popped up instantly, making a smile flash across your face. Suddenly a call chimed in, making you jump slightly before clearing your throat and answering the video call.
“Y/N!! Oh my god, you answered- ah, i’m so sorry I just, teasing each other and acting like we hate each other was always our act and I know i pushed it too far on stream,” George continued to ramble as you shook your head.
“George, Gogy you’re rambling..” you mumbled as he looked back at the camera, clearing his throat with a sheep smile on his face.
“uh, sorry.. look, can we just.. try again?” he muttered as you broke into a dazzling smile.
“we can, but I still get to call you Gogster..”
George broke into a loud laugh, you joining in with his contagious giggle. He nodded, clearing his throat again as he sighed gently.
“That’s all i ask, y/n.. but can i tell you something? dream and sap have been nagging me for the last couple of months to mention this..” His voice trailed as you nodded, rolling your shoulders and sinking further into your chair.
“i may not get along with you, British brat.. but you can always talk to me,” you smirk as George coughs out a laugh, shaking his head as you broke into a grin.
“you’re jealous that I have a hot accent, but seriously.. i.. Y/N I’ve liked you for a while and I’d like for us to try,” his voice trailed out as you blinked, staring at the dark brunette before giggling.
“i.. i actually have a trip coming up, to come see Niki and Wilbur.. I wouldn’t mind adding another person.” You trailed, sheepishly glancing at George as a large smile broke across his face, making you giggle as he quickly nods and laughs.
“Wait, really?! But- But we always- We.. Oh my gosh!” safe to say.. George was at a lost for words and you couldn’t help but be excited for these next two weeks to fly by..
and ofc dream and drista and sap made bets - dream bet you guys would date because of drama, drista just bet that you’d go on a date but would want to kill each other, and sapnap bet you guys would want to instantly date - some were more right than others, but in the end,.. Y/nistaken & Georgewasfound became trending and knocked the harmful trends down
150 notes · View notes
silversatoru · 3 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
birthdays don’t have to suck
fushiguro megumi x f!reader (elli)
synopsis: you get really sick on your birthday, but megumi makes sure that you still have a good day :))
t/w: fluff, reader is sick, vomiting, medicine (tylenol lol), some details pertain specifically to elli
wc: 2.2k
a/n: a small birthday present for the love of my life @megumifushi who never sleeps enough and is always sick,, i love u and i hope ur days not too bad <3
Tumblr media
you stared into your dimly lit laptop, red eyes squinting at the black text that sped across the screen as your fingers scrambled against the keys. you weren’t even sure that what you were writing was comprehensible at this point, but your essay that was due tomorrow morning wasn’t gonna write itself. at this point it just needed to get done, concerns of quality were thrown out the window hours ago.
aside from the burning and stinging in your eyes, your entire body ached, and you were ridden with chills and goosebumps. seemed like a fever was coming on, but you didn’t have the time or capacity to care about that right now. you’d pop a few tylenol and crawl into bed in a couple hours, and everything would be better tomorrow.
what time was it anyway? it couldn’t possibly be that late yet, right? 
you glanced to the corner of the screen, eyes falling on a bright 3:56am that made your heart sink and your eyes widen. you had a terrible habit of losing track of time and staying up into ungodly hours of the night — a habit that your wonderful boyfriend was trying so terribly hard to break. 
you glanced to your left and took in his sleeping form, his lips parted ever so slightly as he took small breaths of air. he’d be disappointed and upset with you if he knew how horrid your sleep schedule had been lately, and he’d probably blame your chills and headaches on your lack of sleep as well — which in all fairness was probably pretty accurate. 
“i’ll just finish this up real quick and then i promise i’ll sleep, ‘kay gumi?” you spoke softly, running your fingers through his soft, spiky hair. 
he was undisturbable, his mind off somewhere in a dreamland that was quite the distance from your small bedroom. and that was probably for the better, because him nagging at you to go to sleep would be too distracting for you to get your work done. 
your hands moved rapidly against the keyboard for about another hour, words spilling onto the screen until you finally hit the page requirement for your paper. it was probably terrible, most likely had a few words spelled wrong, and honestly you were pretty certain you’d repeated yourself several times, but fuck it — submit. you were typically an excellent student, so one bad paper wouldn’t kill you, and you were too tired and achy to care right now. 
you got up and placed your laptop onto your desk, plugging it in and letting a heavy sigh fall from your lips as you made your way back over to the bed. the soft blankets were therapeutically warm on your chilly skin as you crawled in against megumi’s back, effectively turning him into the little spoon and pressing your nose to the back of his neck. thankfully, sleep found you shortly after, your eyes fluttering shut as you drifted off into a much needed slumber. 
Tumblr media
babe 
wake up 
babe
you woke up to small finger pokes to your cheek from megumi, his face laced with concern as your vision finally focused on his features. he bent over and pressed his lips to your forehead, pausing there for a fraction of a second and then standing back up. 
“i think you have a fever. i noticed when i woke up and you felt like a fucking space heater,” he frowned, confirming your initial suspicions from last night, “i’ll go get some medicine”.
you groggily nodded your head, shivers coursing through your body and dotting your extremities with goosebumps. your condition had definitely deteriorated overnight, your eyes stinging and a horrible nausea creeping up your throat. 
by the time he returned with the medicine you had yourself propped up against the pillows, thick blankets pulled up to your chin in an attempt to minimize the icy feeling in your body. he handed two small tylenol tablets to you with a disappointed look on his face — a look that said: i’m gonna kick your ass for not getting enough sleep again. 
“i’ll let everyone know you’re not feeling well enough to go out tonight,” he hummed as he handed you a glass of water, your brain filling with thick fog as you tried to decipher why he would need to let anyone know you were sick. 
the look of pure confusion signaled to him that you had no idea what he was talking about, megumi shaking his head before he spoke up again, “it’s your birthday, dumbass, we were supposed to get food and stuff with yuuji, inumaki, and nobara and maki”. 
birthday 
oh 
forgetting about that was another habit you continued to succumb to every year.
“mm, shit,” you sighed after drinking back the pills, “i forgot”. 
“figured you would,” megumi clicked his tongue, “but i didn’t, because i’m a good boyfriend. can you drag yourself out to the kitchen? you should eat”.
“don’t think so,” you mumbled, attempting to disappear back under the blankets before he could coerce you to follow him outside of the bedroom. 
but megumi is impossibly even more stubborn than you are, wrapping his arms under your body and lifting you to his chest, “guess i’ll just have to carry you then”. 
“fine,” you let out a long groan — was it a bit dramatic? maybe. but in your defense you felt like you’d been hit with a train.
he peppered your face with kisses as he carried you out of the bedroom, lovingly setting you down on one of the high bar stools around your kitchen table. he instructed you to stay in the chair, abruptly returning to the bedroom to bring out a couple blankets to wrap around your shoulders. you were grateful for the extra heat, you body still shaking and shivering as the medications worked to cure your fever. 
megumi was a man of few words, preferring to display his love for you through acts of service than grand confessions, and this was very eminent when he wordlessly grabbed a couple pots and began cooking for you. you let your face fall onto your arms, resting your chin as you watched him silently shuffle between the stove and the pantry. the silence was comfortable, and you weren't going to complain about watching your muscular boyfriend walk around the kitchen in nothing but a pair of loose, plaid pajama pants. 
a few minutes later he was placing a steaming bowl of soup and a couple slices of baked bread in front of you, a savory scent flooding your nostrils. 
“red lentil,” he spoke as he handed you a spoon, “it’s your favorite, so you better eat it”. 
“yes, sir,” you gave him a small smile, dipping the cool metal into the hot liquid and scooping a spoonful into your mouth. 
“all of it”
“yes, megumi, i will try”
Tumblr media
to no surprise, the soup went down pretty fucking horribly, your head hanging low over the toilet while megumi held your hair out of the way. your throat was practically raw by the time you were done heaving and vomiting up the meal, your eyes brimming with hot tears. 
megumi tied your hair up in a neat bun so he could step away, filling up a glass with water and carefully helping you to take small sips and rinse out your mouth. he was tedious with the clean up, washing your face and helping you brush your teeth — ensuring that you felt the best you could given the situation. he then scooped you back into his arms, carrying you back to bed and profusely apologizing for making you eat the soup — but he was just trying to make you feel better, he really was doing his best.
you were ready to add today to your long list of terrible birthdays, chalking it up as another failed attempt, but megumi was not about to let that happen. he knew you had a rough history with birthdays, but now that he was here? you’d have a bad birthday over his dead body. 
he scoured the back of your fridge for ginger ale, gatorade, jello, and whatever else he could find to make you the perfect sick-person platter. and he made sure he was logged into every streaming service that the two of you collectively owned, preparing netflix, hulu, and crunchy roll so that he could easily access every single one of your favorite shows and movies. and so you spent the majority of your day tucked safely against megumi’s chest, forcing down small sips of ginger ale and watching an assortment of tv. 
your phone rang at some point — a facetime call from all of your friends who had gotten together so they could all wish you a collective happy birthday. megumi stuck a singular candle into a cup of blue-raspberry jello and ignited it with a small flame; and then they all sang the most terrible rendition of “happy birthday” that you’d ever heard, yuuji’s voice a little louder and little more out-of-tune than everyone else's.
you mustered enough energy to blow out the flame, everyone cheering while megumi shoveled a scoop of the blue jelly into your mouth. you swallowed it with a smile, praying it stayed down while everyone sent you off with an assortment of “feel better!”, “we love you!”, and “wish you were here!”
your night got pretty quiet after that, you and megumi climbing back under the covers to watch a few more episodes of your new favorite anime. it wasn’t until well into the night that he finally asked you if he could give you the presents he’d gotten for you. reluctantly, you said yes. you hated receiving gifts (it was just one of the many reasons you hated your birthday) but you knew that megumi wasn’t going to take no for answer. 
he was obviously nervous, palms sweaty as he handed you a couple neatly wrapped packages in plain, solid colored paper. they were very megumi, perfect folds with not a single crease, the paper simple yet elegant and adorned with a singular bow on top. 
you hesitantly peeled the paper off the smaller of the two, revealing a tiny box that contained a classic looking silver locket. you felt your heart pinch in your chest as you clicked the locket open and revealed two small pictures of each of the two of you. you weren’t particularly sentimental, but on top of your lack of sleep and not feeling very well, the simple gift caused few tears to well up in your eyes. but he was quick to wipe them away, insisting that you had to open the second gift first, and that birthdays weren’t meant for crying. 
you followed his instructions, ripping open the second package and revealing a larger box that contained a series of envelopes. each one was decorated with tiny doodles of you and megumi, his demon dogs, hearts, etc. they were sickeningly cute, and you immediately reached for the first one before megumi reached out and stopped you. 
“they’re not for now; they’re for when i’m gone, you know, on missions and stuff,” he could barely even maintain eye contact, his eyes dipping low as yours filled back up with tears. 
despite your lack of energy and the fever that was starting to return, you showered him in hugs and kisses after that, thanking him over and over for the most perfect gifts, and for making your day as wonderful as it could have been. 
all things aside, you were coming around to the idea that birthday’s don’t have to suck. 
Tumblr media
bonus: the first letter: 
to y/n:
i know im not great at telling you what i have to say through words, actually, i’m kind of really bad at it. but i thought writing these might be a nice way to try and get better? i’m not sure. anyway, i guess i’ll start by saying that you mean a lot to me, and i probably miss you a lot right now (even though ill be too afraid to reach out and say it). not sure how long i’ll be gone for at the time but it’s probably a few days at least. gonna work hard so i can hurry back to see you. 
i hope you’re sleeping enough, but i know you’re not. you never do, especially when i’m not there to yell at you. i hope you’re eating enough too. but you’re probably also not doing that. you’re like taking care of a stubborn child, you know that? but this is supposed to be a love letter so i’ll try to refrain from scolding you too much. but do try to take care of yourself. ill see you soon. 
megumi
228 notes · View notes
agustdakasuga · 4 years ago
Text
Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 6
Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff
Pairing: OT7 x Reader
Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook
Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.
The boys patiently waited for you to give them an answer. Were you really going to leave like nothing happened? Or bite the bullet and continue, possibly putting your life at risk?
Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.
Tumblr media
The next morning, you sat up in bed. You went to bed rather late last night, even after the dinner ended. It was hard to fall asleep like normal. In the end, you decided to head into your office again to try and make yourself sleepy like the night before. 
Kookie just sat there obediently, being a nice, quiet companion. There was a knock on the door, making your head shoot up from your book. You hummed and the door opened, a head poking through. 
“Hey.” You smiled softly. 
“I was passing by and saw your office lights on. Can’t sleep?” He came in with a tray. You shook your head. 
“I brought some hot chocolate. Mind if I join you?” He asked. You repeated your action, gesturing to the chair on the other side of your desk. Placing the tray with the two mugs down, he took a seat. He held out one of the mugs to you. You graciously took it into your hands, enjoying the warm, sweet beverage before resting it on your lap. 
“Ah, Kookie, don’t do that.” You pulled him away as he started to nibble on the corner of your book.
“I still can’t believe you and Jungkook got this fella together on a whim.” He chuckled, crossing his legs as he sipped from his own mug. You smiled softly, stroking Kookie’s ear. 
“I still can’t believe I let Jungkook name him Kookie.” You snorted. 
“How are you feeling?” He asked. 
“My wrist is fine. It’s not even a strain, just a little bruised. I’m just as human as you, I get hurt too.” You joked. He smiled at your response. 
“I know. But that’s not what I was referring to. I was talking more... mentally and emotionally. I guess we were all shocked because these things happen to us on a daily basis... So we never thought how much it would affect you or anyone else.” He confessed. 
“I was shaken. But... I’ll get over it.” You looked away. 
“It’s okay to be scared, (y/n).” He said softly, not in a teasing way. His voice was laced with patience and understanding.
“Do you want me to stay?” You asked randomly. 
“You and I both know that it doesn’t matter what I want or what the others want.” He raised an eyebrow, knowing that you were just deflecting. You shrugged, chewing on your bottom lip like a pouty child. 
“We’re still shocked you haven’t left. We thought you’d just pack and leave the moment you got home.” He confessed. 
“Well, I’m not exactly one to make impulsive decisions. I usually put more thought into it. Every decision is important to me. Whatever the outcome is... affects me and the clients I work with.” You rolled your eyes slightly. The male gave you an amused look, laughing and raising his mug in agreement. After the drinks were done, you separated to head to bed. 
“Thanks.” You saluted before parting ways with him, a sleeping Kookie curled up in your arms. 
You rolled around your sheets for a while before getting up. Going to open the curtains, you saw Jimin in the backyard, swinging a wooden bokken around, hitting a plastic dummy.
*KNOCK KNOCK*
“Come in.” You cleared your throat. Jungkook appeared, yawning and rubbing his eyes, half asleep. Without a word, you watched as he dove into bed. 
“Jungkook?” You called out. 
“Shhh, hyungs are too naggy. You never saw me.” He mumbled into your pillow, slowly falling asleep again. You sighed with a shake of the head, this was the real side of the boys. You went into the bathroom to wash up and change. Jungkook was snoring softly when you came back out. 
“Good morning, Kookie.” You whispered. Kookie’s ear twitched before hopping over to sniff your finger. 
“Hungry?” You asked. He merely turned around and huddled back in his corner. You scoffed, standing back up to fill his food bowl anyway and change his water. Jungkook and Kookie remained asleep. 
*KNOCK KNOCK*
“Coming.” You stood up and went to open your door. Namjoon stood there with a displeased look on his face. 
“He’s there... isn’t he?” He sighed.
“Uhh...” You turned around to see Jungkook still fast asleep. 
“I have no idea who you’re referring to.” You smiled innocently. Namjoon squinted his eyes, obviously not convinced by your act. He tilted his head, trying to peak into the room but you just stepped to the side to cover his view of the youngest, passed out in your bed. You crossed your arms, raising your eyebrow at him. 
“I can tell you’re not going to have a problem integrating into the family then. I’ll look for Jungkook somewhere else. Thanks, doc.” He gave you a lazy wave and walked away. You closed the door. 
“Jeon Jungkook, get up. Go to your own bed.” You crossed your arms.
“No.” He replied, pulling the blanket over his head. You tugged the blanket away from him, making him whine.
“Why are you even here? I’m sure your room is much bigger and your bed is much more comfortable than mine.” You shook your head. Jungkook buried his face further into the pillow.
“Because hyungs keep nagging me to do things. And now you are doing the same.” He mumbled. Well, his profile did say he was the hardest to wake up. 
“I’m going. Don’t snoop.” You threatened and grabbed your things, leaving your bedroom. You went to make your morning coffee and sat down in the dining room. It was just Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok and a sweaty Jimin. They all acknowledged your presence in their own ways. 
“How was your sleep?” Hoseok asked. 
“It was fine.” You shrugged, dipping your toast into your running eggs. The breakfast was rather silent, with only occasional conversation being passed between the boys. 
“Namjoon, may I speak with you later?” You cleared your throat. 
“Of course.” He nodded. Jimin cast you an uneasy glance before side eyeing Namjoon, who nonchalantly continued to eat his food. 
“(y/n), you forgot to bring Kookie down. And by the way, you’re wrong, your bed is nicer than mine.” Jungkook came in, stretching his arms. He yawned, placing Kookie down before taking a seat. 
“What?!” Hoseok and Jimin yelped. Even Yoongi’s eyes widened slightly at Jungkook’s comment. 
“Liar.” Namjoon coughed. 
“I was held against my will, Namjoon.” You smiled innocently. Namjoon chuckled with a shake of his head. Jungkook lazily dug into his breakfast. The other 3 at the table were still stunned at Jungkook confessing that he slept in your bed and you being okay with that. It also seemed that Namjoon was in the know of it. 
“You... you...” Jimin pointed at Jungkook than you. 
“Oh, hell no! Get your brain out of the gutter. I’ll have you know, I am a woman of principles. I’m insulted you would even assume such a thing, Jimin.” You glared at him. 
“Then why was Jungkook in your bed?” Yoongi asked. 
“Escaping you guys to get a couple more minutes of sleep.” You revealed and Jungkook choked on his food. 
“Hey! You didn’t have to go exposing me!” 
“Well, that’s what you get for making it sound like we slept together. I’m not having my morals questioned because of you.” You scoffed, crossing your arms. Jungkook shot you an offended look. 
“Yoongles, I’ll see you in the clinic after I speak to Namjoon?” You tilted your head. Yoongi rolled his eyes. 
“Alright, alright. Geez, I know you’re excited but calm down.” You waved him off. The others stifled a laugh. Yoongi would never admit that he only lets you play around with him like that. Anyone else would definitely get a bullet to the head if they tried to tease him like you. 
“Shall we?” Namjoon wiped his mouth, standing up. You nodded your head. 
“Do I have to sing how we’re off to see the wizard?” You blinked. Namjoon chuckled at your ‘Wizard of Oz’ reference. You walked out with him and headed to his office. 
“I’m guessing you would like to discuss whether you will continue working here with us or not?” Namjoon asked as he sat down. 
“Is there any other reason I should be coming?” You raised your eyebrows as you sat down. 
“I will never know if you think I need a psychiatric assessment or intervention so I was just making sure.” Namjoon chuckled with a shrug. You laughed, Namjoon would probably be the last person in the house that needs an ‘intervention’. Namjoon was someone you knew was serious but he always played along with your sarcastic jokes. 
“I’ll stay, at least until my contract ends.” You spoke, getting to the actual reason why you were sitting in his office. 
“Right... Here, you might need this then.” Namjoon nodded, taking a box out from his drawer and sliding it over to you. You didn’t even open it. 
“A gift? That was quick.” You scoffed. 
“Just take it. It’s actually more important than you think.” Namjoon said, a smile on his face. You nodded, placing the box in your lap, you’ll open it later when you’re alone.
“I heard Jungkook say you’ll be busy friday night?” 
“I knew that little bunny was eavesdropping... But yeah, just a little family thing I can’t really escape from. I can trust you guys not to get killed while I’m not around, right?” You crossed your arms. 
“Maybe not killed but gravely injured... I’m not making any promises.” Namjoon mused.
“Well, as long as you lot don’t die before I get back, you can get as gravely injured as you’d like. Who knows, it may be more fun for me than you’d think.” You chuckled. Standing up, you turned to get ready to leave Namjoon when he spoke from behind you.
“So what made your decision?” 
“Let’s just say some late night hot cocoa is good to clear your mind.” You said briefly, remembering what happened in your office last night with your mysterious person. 
“I see... Have a good day, doc.” Namjoon wished. You smiled, giving him a backwards wave before leaving. 
“Yoonie~” You hummed as you entered the office. Yoongi was already sitting on the therapy bed, looking at his finger nail with a bored expression. 
“So, any pain from our last session?” You asked. 
“No.” He replied, letting you help him unstrap the bulky cast form his body. You nodded your head. Yoongi’s condition was improving rather quickly. He was quite the compliant patient. You started the physiotherapy session with him, noting down the improvements that you observed. Yoongi also didn’t seem to be in as much pain. 
“Are you staying?” He asked. 
“What do you mean?” You asked, scribbling down on your notepad. 
“You know what I mean...”
“If you’re referring to whether I’ll still be working here, then yes. I told Namjoon that I’ll work at least until the end of my contract. Besides, it may prove to be a new experience working here.” You shrugged. 
“Don’t regret it.” Yoongi sighed. 
“Aww, are you worrying about me? Don’t worry, Yoonie. I know you would have missed me if I left.” You wiped a fake tear, making Yoongi give you a weird look.
“It’s not easy working for this family, (y/n). We face death and danger every day. I want you to take this seriously. It’s not a joke. You could seriously get hurt. You should seriously consider it before making any decision. It’s only going to get harder as the days pass.” Yoongi frowned. 
“I am taking it seriously, Yoongi. What you saw the other night... it was just a moment of shock. I’ve mentally prepared myself.” You stared straight into his eyes with a firm voice. 
“Okay. It’s your decision.” Yoongi nodded. 
“Anyway, you don’t have you wear your sling 24/7 anymore. You can take it out for short periods of time. But you still shouldn’t be using your shoulder as normal and you should wear it to sleep.” You informed. 
“Right...” 
“Soon, you’ll be able to get rid of it entirely.” You gave a small, comforting smile. Yoongi nodded as you helped him put the sling on. 
“Bye~” You hummed as Yoongi left wordlessly. You sat at your desk, leaning back in your chair, scrolling through your emails. There were still forwarded emails from your parents. 
“Delete.” You scoffed, dragging the pile to the trash. 
*KNOCK KNOCK*
“Come in.” You sat up. Taehyung walked in, using the back of his hand to rub his cheek. He shut the door behind him and walked past you without another glance. Settling on the bed that Yoongi sat on earlier, Taehyung proceeded to lie down with his back facing you. You blinked at his sudden, wordless entrance but shrugged, continuing to do your work. 
“Taehyung?” You called out, typing away. He let out a soft hum from his spot. 
“Are you injured?” You asked. 
“...No..” He replied after much contemplation. Sighing, you stood up from your chair and headed over to him. 
“Taehyung, you’re bleeding. And you say you’re not injured. Hold on a sec.” You saw the smudged blood on his temple. Just as you were about to turn away to get the first aid kit, he grabbed your wrist. 
“It’s not my blood...” Taehyung said softly. 
“O-Oh.” Was all you could say. Taking your wrist out of his grip, you went to sit in your chair, continuing to do whatever was on your computer screen. 
“I forgot about this.” You looked at your desk and saw the box that Namjoon gave earlier. You cast a glance at Taehyung’s back before opening the box. Your eyes widened slightly as you stared at the chain bracelet with a pink diamond charm and a wing charm. 
“It’s for you to wear.” Taehyung spoke. Your head shot up and you saw him sitting on the bed, swinging his legs back and forth. 
“Here.” He hopped off, taking the bracelet and clasping it around your wrist. You were a little stunned by his actions but just blinked at the new weight around your wrist. 
“Don’t take it off...” He whispered. You nodded your head, still staring at the bracelet. 
“Why?” 
“I have to go for a meeting.” Taehyung looked up from his phone, tucking it into his back pocket before leaving and heading out of the office without answering your question. You sighed, lifting your wrist up and jingling it. You stood up and walked to the big window in your office. Jimin and Jungkook were in the backyard, sparring one another. 
“(y/n)?” A voice called and you turned around to see Hoseok standing there with a small smile on his face. 
“Namjoon told me to pass these to you?” He held a stack of files out to you. You nodded, waving for him to come in. As he placed them on the desk for you to go through, he sat down.
“New profiles?” You raised an eyebrow.
“There’s a little bit more truth in them.” Hoseok shrugged. You nodded slowly, going through the profiles. He was right, there was a little more “truth” in them. 
“Come, I’ll give you a full tour of the house.” Hoseok said excitedly, shutting the folders before you could read them all. You chuckled, following him out of your office. With your hands tucked into your lab coat pockets, you followed Jin into the other wing of the house. 
“Business people come through here. The entrance you came through is only for residents of the house. We don’t want different groups of people mixing.” Hoseok showed you a smaller foyer. 
“I see.” You nodded. 
“You’ve been to Namjoon’s office. But the rest of our offices are also in the same general area. He showed you the conference room on the top floor.
“This is our main conference room. The others are downstairs. These are used for our own people, between the other 6 boys and I. Meetings with outsider clients usually take place in our offices.” He explained. 
“There shouldn’t be a need to come to this wing, except for medical injuries.” Hoseok chuckled. 
“Yes, this isn’t a place I would like to wander in my free time either.” You rolled your eyes. He threw his head back in laughter. 
“Let’s head back then.” 
-
“Doc?” Jin came in. You looked up from your computer. 
“I was gone the whole day but Namjoon told me to good news!” He grinned, closing the door behind him. 
“Is it really good news?” You raised an eyebrow. 
“Well, it is to me! Which is why, I insisted on having a celebration tonight! To celebrate you joining the family.” Jin held your hands and pulled you up from your seat, despite your protests. He brought you out of your office and into the dining room. The other 6 were already sitting there, waiting for you patiently with glasses of wine. 
“Hey.” You lifted a hand to greet them.
“(y/n)!” Jimin cheered, pushing you to sit down by your shoulders. You blinked at them. Yoongi even had a smile of amusement on his face. 
“Wine?” Jungkook offered. You would have said no but considering they were having this ‘celebratory dinner’ for you, it would be rude of you to decline. 
“Sure. Thank you.” You sighed but nodded your head. Jungkook shot you a bunny smile before pouring some wine into your glass. You clinked glasses with all of them. 
“Welcome to the family.” Namjoon smiled. 
“Thanks?” You were unsure of what to say. After all, you were still here as an employee under them. 
“It’s going to be a wild ride. Things won’t be normal anymore.” Yoongi added, sipping his wine, as the staff served the food. You nodded your head, poking your steak. 
“No need to scare her further, Yoongi. She’s already proven her strength and made her decision. Let the girl breathe for a while.” Jin chided softly, making Yoongi grunt in annoyance. You knew he wasn’t trying to scare you, he was merely warning you. 
That night, you were sitting under the gazebo, relaxing and enjoying the night breeze. Jimin laid on the seat opposite you, just like the first night that you came to the house. 
“Scared?” Jimin asked. 
“No.” 
“It’s okay to be scared, (y/n). I’m sure we all were, at some point, when we first joined.” Jimin shrugged. You tilted your head in confusion. 
“Only Namjoon hyung and Yoongi hyung were the original members of the family. The rest of us were recruited by them. But I guess you will find out each person’s individual story from them.” He chuckled. 
“What’s yours?” You asked. 
~
Ko-fi link
Series Masterlist
Tag list
@veronawrites​ @diamonddia-mond​ @georgie-me-myself-i​ @saveme-imfine​ @openup-yourmind​ @purelyecstacy​ @nlost21​ @yiyi4657​ @kimmieloveswho​ @i-like-puppy-mg​ @cait-with-luv​ @s-tae-rrynight​ @supertweetycherry  @carolinexkpop @unatempesta-dipensieri​ @telepathylftv​ @taradevonne​ @top-crop​ @ifellinluvwithdorks​ @lovvliies​ @bt21chim​ @kpopiskpopyunho​ @egm09 @designjet​ @lasagnaisjustspaghetticake​ @3musez​ @bangtansleftnut​ @deeepvibes​ @barbikatherine​ @xxminilah​ @missmxqn​ @kimahnjung98​ @jbunnys-world​ @itspwi @gold--gucciempress​ @rainbow-zebra-unicorns​ @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered​ @holaaaf​ @aconfusedidentity @samararose21​ @shondlenoodle​ @singhsahara @scuzmunkie​ @mellownatureanimalsdreamer @fenderbenderr​ @uraveragefangirlsposts​ @jikook-enthusiasts​ @wendyiiwl​ @amyniu​ @bipolargal @vivpurple7​ @mintvender​ @xcharlottemikaelsonx​ @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @imyourapocalypse​ 
871 notes · View notes
buckys-black-dress · 4 years ago
Text
stargazing (bucky barnes x fem!reader)
a/n: so this idea totally just came to me because this trope is honestly so cute and i love these and i need to get this out of my system. i listened to stargazing by the neighborhood while writing this and i LOVE this song, so i’d recommend listening while reading! (just listen to the whole album).
also-- happy new year! 2020 quite literally fucked us up but im so grateful this year was the one where i decided to come on here and share my work with yall. i love every single one of my readers, so THANK YOU! anyways, without further ado...
enjoy my dearies!!! -ali
wc: 2.8k
When you first became best friends with Rebecca Barnes in preschool, the last place you’d expected to end up was with a massive crush on her older brother.
James, or Bucky, as he likes to be called my his close friends, was basically the perfect guy for you. He was kind, witty, and didn’t treat you like a child. (Anymore). 
Now that you had graduated high school and were in you first year of college, Bucky was in his second year. And things were getting rough. 
You were a Cognitive Psychology major, and your main interest was in becoming an occupational therapist. You were attending Columbia University. 
And of course, so was Bucky, studying English Literature. Rebecca was studying at FIT, her main interest being in fashion design. All three of you couldn’t bear to leave New York City, so you all decided to stay nearby. 
Since all three of you were in the same area, more or less, you three remained close and tight-knit. Since you were still a freshman, you decided to dorm on campus, while Rebecca and Bucky did the same. Bucky was in a fraternity, so he had a place in the house, and you often found yourself hanging out in his room, having been introduced to most of his brothers.
Like today, it was Thursday night, and your classes were cancelled for tomorrow. You were in no rush to get back to your room, and your roommate was also out at her boyfriend’s. Rebecca thought you were finishing up an essay, though. 
“Y/N, you’re crashing here tonight?” Bucky’s voice caused his chest to rumble under your place on it. 
“Yeah, is that alright?” You asked, looking up at him.
“Of course, Y/N/N.” He smiled back down at you, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest at your doe eyes. 
She’s your sister’s best friend. Becca would hate you.
“I’m gonna wash up before I fall asleep, Buck.” You said with a yawn, lifting yourself off of Bucky’s warm, comfortable bed. 
Bucky watched your form disappear out of his room to the bathroom next door, his chest deflating with a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 
I’m so fucked.
-
Making your short walk to the bathroom, your mind was filled with thoughts, and you really didn’t know what to do in this current situation. 
You and Becca had been best friends since you were both in preschool.
And now you were pretty certain that you had the biggest crush known to humankind on her older brother. 
Staring at your reflection in the mirror as you pat your face dry, you wondered what would happen if this went further. 
What would happen if you told Bucky that you liked him?
What would Becca do if she knew you liked her brother?
Shaking your head at yourself, you knew you couldn’t do that to Becca. She’s been there for you through everything that’s happened to you. To just turn around and tell her that you’ve fallen for her brother- you don’t know if that would be the right thing to do.
But how could you just outwardly deny your feelings for Bucky?
A knock on the bathroom door drew you out of your thoughts, letting whoever was knocking know that they could come in. 
“Hey, Y/N, how ya been?” It was one of Bucky’s closest friends whom you also knew growing up, Steve Rogers. 
“Hey Steve, I’m good. How ‘bout you?” You asked, getting ready to head back to Bucky’s room. 
“Good, good, y’know, Peg’s keepin’ me on my toes.” He flashed you a smile, a blush creeping up on his face at the mention of his girlfriend. 
“Aw, Stevie’s in loooove,” You sing-songed, pinching his cheek.
“Well, I think I could say the same for you, Y/N/N.” Steve scoffed back in retort, but your breath hitched at the words.
“Shut up, Steve...” You mumbled, twiddling your fingers. 
“Y/N, I’m serious... You and Buck ‘ve been spending a lot of time together and I can tell. He’s my best friend, and I know when my best friend is taken for someone. Trust me, Y/N, your feelings aren’t one-sided.” And with that, he steps into the bathroom, leaving you reeling at his words.
Lost in your thought again, you walked back to Bucky’s room. You tucked yourself under his warm duvet, as you fell into a deep slumber with his arm wrapped around your waist, thinking about the weight of it around you as you fell asleep.
The next morning was... quiet... to say the least. After your encounter with Steve in the bathroom, you really didn’t know how to feel about your feelings towards Bucky. He felt the tenseness that was rolling off of you in waves, making him wonder if he did something to make you upset. 
Bucky wondered if he was doing too much, wondering if he had caused you to be uncomfortable with him for some reason.
So naturally, he pulled back.
As the days went on and got colder, you found yourself spending more time in your dorm, or places that weren’t associated with Bucky in your mind. 
And it was safe to say the both of you were losing it.
Bucky was slowly losing his composure, where he would participate the most in his seminar classes, he was quiet and folded in on himself, losing his confidence. 
Where you were the most outspoken on certain topics in your classes, you became a bit of a hermit. 
And almost everyone noticed.
Most notably, Becca and Steve.
When you returned from class at the end of a long week without Bucky, you invited Becca over to have take out in your room.
“So, how’s your week been?” She asks, reaching into your takeout box and grabbing a piece of garlic honey chicken.
Rolling your eyes, you say “Fine, same old. You? How’d that design project go?” 
“It was awesome! My professor really loved my piece, she said it was one of the ‘most original takes’ on this project she’s seen!” Becca was ecstatic and you were so proud of her.
“That’s so awesome, Bec! One day you’re gonna have to make me something that I can wear, and when someone asks me where I got it, I’ll just say, ‘oh, sorry my best friend made it, you’ll have to wait ‘til it hits the runways to buy it.’” You laugh, pointing your chopsticks at her.
“Y/N, stop, you flatterer.” She smirked, looking back down at her food. “Hey, I’ve also been meaning to ask... have you noticed Bucky acting weird as of late, or anything? Is it just me or is he like... way more quiet than usual?” Becca asked inquisitively. 
“Oh- uh, I actually have no idea. I haven’t really seen him that much this week. Just around campus here and there.” You shrug your shoulders, the pit in your stomach nagging at you.
“Really? You guys usually hang out more often...” She responds, and your face burns in embarrassment. 
“Wh- How do you know how often your brother and I hang out?” Your voice didn’t even feel like your own as you spoke, quickly occupying it with food.
“Well, he does live with Steve... Apparently you’re around there pretty often.” Rebecca eyes you, seeing your body language and how uncomfortable you seem. “Y/N... If you like my brother, that’s okay. I think you guys would be cute together. And I can tell you like him, so don’t try to deny it.” Becca smiles, reaching to rest a hand on yours in comfort. 
“Wh- You don’t care?” You ask in confusion, expecting a bit of a more dramatic reaction. 
“Of course I care, I care about my two favorite people being happy. And if they’re happy together, then that’s even better!” She explains, and your head spins.
“I- I’m telling you this in confidence, Becca. You can’t tell anyone, not Steve, not Peggy, and absolutely not Bucky...” She nods, moving closer to you. “I...I do like Bucky. A lot. But I don’t think he likes me that way. I mean, just look at his exes. I’m not like Natasha, or those gorgeous girls. And what if he just sees me as his friend. Like a little sister?” You finish, your hands flailing around and out of breath. 
“Y/N... I know my brother, but I can’t read his mind. If I had to take a wild guess... I’d say he likes you too. Based on what Steve tells me, based on how Bucky acts when you come up in conversation... his eyes light up, dude. I think you need to talk to him, face to face.” Rebecca explains, giving her best advice. “You both deserve to be happy, and I think you could both give that to each other.” She softly smiles. 
“Thanks, Becca. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You laugh, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’ll talk to him.”
In the frat house across the campus, Steve and Bucky were sitting in the living room amongst some of their other brothers. 
“Buck, what’s been up with you this week?” Tony, a senior and president of the frat asks from the kitchen.
“Hm?” Bucky looks up, confused at the question.
“You’ve been... off all week long.” Sam chimes in from next to him on the couch, eyes leaving the football match on the TV.
“I’m fine, why?” Bucky deflects, taking a sip of his drink in hand.
“Whatever you say, but I have a feeling this has to do with Y/N... haven’t seen her around here at all this week.” Tony points out, plopping down on a futon. 
Steve’s eyes widened, looking down at his phone that he’s been on all night.
Little did Bucky know, Rebecca was feeding him information about you to him directly, trying to make sense of his friend’s odd behavior this week.
His eyes shot to Bucky’s, trying to gauge his reaction to Tony’s mention of you.
“Yeah, she’s been.... busy, I guess. Haven’t really talked to her.” Bucky says nonchalantly. 
“Why not? You two are basically attached at the hip... like, Friday nights are usually your thing together. I thought you’d man up and ask her out already.” Sam’s response caused a stillness in the room, everyone looking at Bucky for his next move. 
But it was quiet. 
“She’s... she’s my sister’s best friend... I don’t think Becca would appreciate me taking her best friend out to dinner.” Bucky said in a low voice, clearing his throat. 
“Have you asked her how she feels about it?” Thor asks from his spot on the other couch. “Maybe she’s fine with it, she doesn’t seem to be too stuck up...” He suggests.
“My sister isn’t stuck up, man. Watch it.” He responds defensively. 
“I wasn’t saying that! But you should talk to her about it, that’s all I’m saying!” Thor fights back. 
“I just- I don’t know, last week when Y/N was here, she went to the bathroom to wash up at night, and when she came back she was acting totally different. She’s usually comfortable around me, but she was acting like... like she was uncomfortable around me. I thought I did something to make her feel that way, so I kinda backed off this week.” Bucky explains, trying to understand what went wrong.
“Well, did she say anything? Did she try to reach out this week?” Tony asks. 
“I mean, she texted me a few times, but it was casual conversation. I can’t tell how she’s feeling. I like her, but I don’t want to make things weird for her and Becca, or Becca and I.” 
And this is where Steve chimes in. 
“I mean, come on Buck, it’s obvious she likes you too. I think you need to talk to her, because Becca wants you two to be happy. I don’t think she’d care that much, y’know?”
“But what if I make things awkward? Like, what if I read the signals wrong this whole time, and she doesn’t even really like me?” Bucky was now going into a deep spiral, and Steve needed to pull him out, fast. 
“Buck, I don’t think so. You should talk to her, face to face.” Steve encouraged.
“You think so?” Bucky wasn’t so convinced.
“Yes!” A chorus of voices echoed in the house, causing Bucky to jump to his feet, ready to confront this head-on.
“Okay, yeah, yes, I’m gonna tell her how I feel. I got this, I’ll be fine-” But his pumping-up session was cut short from the doorbell ringing through the house.
Steve got up, “I got it.” He simply said, smirking mischievously as he turned to face the door and twisted the knob.
And of course, it was none other than you.
“Hey Buck? I think it’s for you!” Steve yells from the doorway, stepping out of the way and directing everyone in the living room to hide out of sight. Of course, they were all still eavesdropping and lurking about.
“Doll, what’re ya doin’ here?” Bucky was beyond confused, you timing was impeccable. 
“I-I have some things I wanna talk about. I just, I think we need to talk.” You say, looking up at him.
“Y-Yeah, come inside, it’s freezing out. What’s up, doll?” He asks, pulling you into the house and into the living room, sitting down next to you on a couch, making sure to face you. 
“Everything’s alright... but I need to get this off my chest before I go crazy-” You stop yourself from rambling further. “I was having dinner with Becca earlier, and we... talked... about some things. And apparently, someone was telling her about all the time we spend together.” Bucky was listening, but cursing Steve in his head, knowing he was behind it. 
“And I know last week I was acting weird, but I promise, it wasn’t because of something you did. Well, it kinda was, b-but not something bad, y’know?” You explain, trying to get Bucky to understand how you feel.
“Whaddaya mean, doll? If I did something, tell me, because I would never want to hurt you-” He started, trying to pinpoint his actions. 
“You made me like you! There, you happy?” You exclaim, hands covering your cherry red face. “I said it! I like you. And I totally understand if you don’t feel the same way, I’m just your little sister’s annoying friend, I get it-” 
But instead of the feeling of rejection, you were met with Bucky’s lips on yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.
Bucky was kissing you.
Bucky was kissing you!
Holy fuck!
What. The. Fuck. 
But before you could overthink anything, you heard loud whoops and cheers coming from all around you.
“What the hell? Steve?” You asked, looking around, trying to process the last minute.
“Finally! Took ya two idiots long enough! God, Becca and I didn’t know how much longer we’d have to be your freakin’ puppet masters.” He laughed from his spot in the kitchen. 
“Come on doll, let’s go upstairs to talk, where we could have some privacy...” Bucky said pointedly, looking at his brothers as they kept cheering as you two made your way up the stairs. 
Once the door closed behind you two, you were quite literally speechless.
“You kissed me.” You pointed out the obvious, since your mind was still reeling.
“I did.” Bucky simply answers.
“...Why?” You ask, like an idiot. 
“Because, for the past three years I’ve had the biggest crush known to man on you... and I knew if I didn’t kiss you then, I never would. Kind of a life or death situation here, doll.” He jokes trying to gauge your mood.
“Bucky...” You sighed, walking closer to him, holding his face, “you can kiss me whenever you want.” And punctuated your sentence with a kiss. 
“Well... then... can I call you my girlfriend?” He asks, looking into your twinkling eyes. Bucky’s large hands cover your waist, pulling you closer against him.
“Yeah... I think you can.” You answer, the sparkle never leaving your eyes.
“Hmmm... finally.” Bucky hums, closing the gap between your lips over and over again. 
Your loud giggle fills the room as Bucky peppers kisses all over your face, trying to make up for lost time. 
“Hey, make sure to use protection, kids!” someone’s voice comes from down the hall from’s Bucky’s room.
“Shut up, Sam!” You both yell in unison, resuming your previous activities.
And in this moment, there’s nowhere else either of you would rather be. 
323 notes · View notes
luvknow · 4 years ago
Text
in another lifetime | lee minho
genre: ceo/iron man!lee minho x secretary!reader | ceo au ; superhero au ; alcohol mention ; blood mention summary: you and your boss were inseparable. no one could understand how you could work ungodly hours for such an inexperienced ceo. but your job was to stick by Mr. Lee for as long as you were getting paid, and that meant being his date to charity balls and helping him turn into the country’s best superhero. wc: 18.9k a/n: rewrite of that one w**jin fic cuz fuck that guy ~! the public has spoken.... lee minho has been chosen as the winner
Secretary was your title, but you liked to think you were more than just that. Perhaps secretary was just an umbrella term for amateur sommelier slash novice multitasker slash the only employee who knew how to drive stick. Whatever your job entailed, you were sure to list all of those tasks in your updated resume when it was time to pass the torch onto some other poor sucker because you would much rather die than be a secretary for life.
It wasn’t like your boss was a total ass, or anything. That was actually the scary part - the fact that your boss was one of the kindest and most attentive people you’ve ever worked for, yet you still hated this job! What made this so horrid was the amount of walking and running your poor feet had to do. And guess what? No sneakers were allowed in the office, so you were left with walking over forty-thousand steps in a day in toe-pinching sole-aching glossy shoes that were half a size too big for your feet because shoes like these always ran out in your size in the store.
“Good morning, Mr. Lee,” you greeted, walking into his private office at 8:00 am on the dot as normal. With tired eyes, he looked up from his stack of blueprints and gave you a warm smile. You don’t know how he does it, but he always managed to welcome your morning visits with a smile that almost made you consider your resignation. “Iced americano, extra shot.”
“You are a blessing,” he praised graciously. One sip of the liquid gold was enough to wake him up right away.
“Long night?”
“Yeah. You know how it took us hours to decide the wall colors for each floor in our building? Imagine doing that all over again, but for a superhero suit prototype.”
“But it’s just a suit this time, not fifty floors.”
“This isn’t just a suit, _____. It’s the suit of a man who’s going to save the world one day! A suit that everyone will lay their eyes on and judge me for my color choices.”
“You sound like a child.”
“An ambitious child, mind you.”
“Did you ultimately decide on a color?”
“Yes, two colors actually. Red and gold.”
“Wow, such a loud and loyal color choice.”
“Is it?” Your handsome boss pouted slightly while scanning his designs. “Seungmin said the same thing. Maybe I should change it -”
“No!” you interrupted for the sake of not wanting to look up Pantone’s thousands of shades of ruby and champagne. “Red and gold are perfect for you.”
Minho’s pouty lips melted into a proud smile. “If you believe so, then I trust you. Come take a look - what do you think of it overall?”
You walked around his ginormous custom-made walnut desk to peer over his shoulder. Minho could smell the familiar gardenia scent you wore for years and it immediately brought comfort to his panicking soul. Somehow your presence always calmed him down, no matter what stressful situation he was in. Maybe that’s why he wanted to have you around 24/7. How selfish of him.
Your couple minutes of silence were so agonizing that his nervous foot-tapping habit he told you about that he thought he got rid of in college broke through, which was your cue to answer.
“I like it. I like it a lot, actually,” you admitted honestly. “I would definitely feel safe if I saw you come to my rescue, although the helmet is a little concerning.”
“Concerning how?”
“Well, it has such a… A, uh… How do I put this politely? A dead expression?”
“‘Dead’ is a polite adjective to you?”
“I mean come on, Mr. Lee, there are two eyes and a flat line for the mouth where the corners curve downwards just slightly and it looks like you gave him little fangs. There’s not much life in the eyes, either.” 
“They light up when the suit is on!”
“Maybe I’ll like it more when I see it in person?”
“The helmet is the only thing I’m confident about, so nothing and no one can change my mind,” he said stubbornly.
“I’m sure everyone will love it,” you reassured while smoothing out the stress wrinkles on his indigo shoulder pads. “When do you plan on starting the build?”
“In half an hour.”
“What!?” Minho nearly spit out his espresso at your yelping and the frantic way you sifted through your massive planner and scrolling through your emails on your phone at the same time. Oh, so that’s what he forgot to tell you! He knew something felt off. “B-B-But I didn’t get an email that the shipment arrived!”
“I called the company at five in the morning just as they opened and demanded an expedited shipping of all the materials and they’ll be arriving in half an hour.”
“But did the quality department approve of the materials? Or your design at least?”
“You do know I’m the CEO, right?” Minho smirked teasingly. “That’s business talk for ‘fuck Quality’.”
Minho stood up from his black velvet Chesterfield chair to escape your nagging and briskly walked away towards God-knows-where. Like an obedient, push-over puppy, you trailed closely behind with a light jog and all you could think about was how it was too early for your feet to be aching this badly.
“I don’t like the idea of this,” you said firmly.
“You never do. Loosen up a little, will ya?”
“I will not! I looked the other way when you decided on signing a contract to collaborate with that ugly luxury car brand, I agreed with the proposal of a new smartphone that totally flopped in the end, and I barely allowed the approval for the development of the new branch in Taiwan! All of those ideas are whatever, arbitrary even, but this? This puts you at the front line of danger, Mr. Lee! What if something goes wrong, or the material is compromised? What if these companies take you for a fool for not checking in with the quality department first? What if you’re setting yourself up to be sabotaged, huh?”
Minho pressed the down button on the elevator, ignoring your pleas. Even though all you do is nag and play by the rules, he knew you were only doing so because he didn’t bother to. In the end, you were just looking out for him, and he couldn’t appreciate you more.
His gives you what he thought was a reassuring smile. To you, it looked rather mischievous “Lucky for me that you’ll be there the whole time, right?”’
“What do you mean…?”
“I mean you’ll watch the entire suit being built while you work. Then you’ll see how safe it is. I need someone to double check me, anyways.”
“Mr. Lee, I don’t think I’m qualified for that.”
“Don’t be silly, of course you are!”
Your engineering experience went as far as Physics I and II classes with a teaspoon’s worth in basic circuitry, so if Minho thought that qualified you to double check his work, then you might have to question his PhD degree.
The elevator welcomed you both into its vacant container. The lowest level this elevator could reach with a single button was the basement, but if the right person (or the wrong person) were to dial the buttons in the order of 4-4-1-9, they would be taken nine floors below the basement to the rumored ‘Super Office’ (ten was too much because Minho didn’t like the feel of the heavy pressure and eight was such a silly number).
The steel doors opened right into his Super Office which he designed to be five times larger than his executive office so he had plenty of room for building up new car designs and bringing his super suits to life for both him and his partners. His successful designs that were once worn but are now retired were placed on mannequins and stored inside a tall glass box on display for him to admire.
You walked up to your favorite one, eyes sparkled adoringly at Seungmin’s first Spider-Man suit.
“You always loved the red and blue,” Minho noted behind you. “Still not a fan of the black one?”
“The black one is scary! No one wants a hero dressed in all black, like that color does not exude the feeling of safe.”
“Duly noted for his next suit.”
Beside Seungmin’s old spidey suit was an empty display case you assumed was meant for this final draft of Minho’s Iron Man suit. Surrounding the two glass cases were dozens and dozens of wood and plastic demos that didn’t work out in the end, but Minho didn’t have the heart to take them to the dumpster.
“Looks like the shipment arrived early!” Your mature but easy-going boss jogged up to the piles of wooden crates and packages that were laid out neatly in the center of his work space. Without much patience, he took off his indigo suit jacket, tossed it to the side like it wasn’t worth two thousand dollars (to which you caught before it hit the ground), and took the crowbar on top of the pile to open the cases with ease. Sheets of metals, different tools, and a cool welding and soldering set scattered along the concrete floor. Minho gave you an excited grin that mimicked a child upon opening gifts on Christmas. “Let the building commence!”
There wasn’t room for any argument, so you took a seat at his desk where he normally would sketch the designs and worked off of his desktop with a heavy feeling of defeat. At least watching the process would be cool, right?
Maybe cool wasn’t the right word. Or watching.
For the next three months, from sunrise to sunset, you spent your day nine floors below the surface for almost twelve hours a day being his little helper. From holding pieces of metal in place while he flame torched them together to feeding him take out because his hands were covered in oil, you did it all and God, if Minho didn’t give you a raise or at least some meal tickets to the executive cafeteria, you might just quit on the spot.
“Done.” With a heavy and exhausted sigh, Minho clapped his hands together and marveled at his nearly-finished product. “We’re done!!”
“What about the red and gold paint?”
“I can’t work on this anymore or I’ll implode. I’ll just take this to my car guy and he’ll paint it exactly how I want it.”
“Not really a self-made suit then, is it?” you dared to challenge your boss.
He pointed an accusing finger at you. “Shut your mouth and give me my food.”
You handed a slouching Minho his box of take-out and wooden chopsticks. While you had a perfectly comfortable ottoman he could have sat on right next to you, he remained on the cold concrete, probably too sore and worn out to even stand up, let alone walk to a cushioned seat. Minho was a man with personality and many faces, but his face of satisfactory upon completing projects was when he was the most handsome. For a while, you two just sat in silence, taking in every detail of the flawless iron suit while slurping noodles. 
“So,” Minho began nervously. “What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful, Mr. Lee,” you say immediately.
“You mean it?”
For someone so intelligent and talented, it was a wonder how a man like him could be insecure about any of his creations.
“Absolutely,” you reassured. “Flawless. Is it fully programmed and everything?”
“Yup. I installed the software and artificial intelligence last week.”
“Sounds like the only thing you need to do is take it out for a spin.”
Minho hummed with approval. “... Can you do it for me?”
“What!? No!”
“I really don’t want to do it…”
“With all due respect, suck it up.”
“Isn’t it reasons like this why I hired you?”
“I was hired to be your secretary, not your lab rat.”
“To be fair, the job description was pretty vague.”
“Yeah, I definitely did not expect to be helping you construct a modern Knight in Shining Armor cosplay.” After wiping your mouth clean of all MSG and soy sauce, you tossed your dirty napkin in the trash bin that was a considerable distance away.
Minho followed suit, who was also able to get his napkin in the can. Then you tossed another napkin, and then him, and this went on until you were left to toss your boxes and chopsticks. The real challenge was tossing the plastic wraps of the fortune cookies.
“Whoever loses has to do whatever the other says,” Minho proposed.
Without hesitation, you nodded in agreement. “Fine, but I will not test that thing out if I lose.”
“Deal. Secretaries first.”
You did your best to crumple up and squish out any air that was left in the wrapped before whipping it like you were throwing the first pitch. The wrapper hit the rim of the can and fell to the side. But that’s ok, because there was no way your boss could even come close to -
“WOO!” Minho cheered, getting up from the floor while you were left slumped in the chair filled with defeat. Of course, whatever he wanted, he would get his way. “Man, I am super lucky today.”
“What the hell! Did you wrap it around a stone or something!?”
“Darling, I would never cheat ~”
“There’s no use in arguing. Just lay the consequences on me, boss.”
Minho scooted the ottoman closer - almost a little too close. Then, like a handsome little goldendoodle with his swooshy chocolate hair and sparkling eyes, he gazed up at you pleadingly before offering you your punishment.
Fear and flattery tickled your spine. “Spit it out.”
A grin followed. “You will accompany me to the ball next week.”
“The Children’s Charity Ball? The biggest charity ball of the century? The one where all the white-haired big shots attend with their dates who just barely turned eighteen?”
“The very same.”
“And you want me to be your date.”
“Yes.”
“Seems a bit lazy, doesn’t it?”
“Lazy how!?”
Not wanting him to see you blush, you began cleaning up the mess from the takeout. “Lazy as in why not find a real date? You know, someone you’ll have a good time with.”
“Hey, I always have a good time with you! And I’m doing you a favor if you think about it. If I wanted to bring anyone else, that would mean you’d have to flip through all of my contacts and have you choose the perfect date for me. So unless you want the extra overtime, I’ll expect to see you dressed to the nines?”
“Don’t you want to bring someone more suited for this role? Someone with much more finesse and elegance?” you said as you twirled dirty napkins in the air.
“If I’m being honest, I do not have the time nor do I want to put in the effort into bringing someone so bland.”
“Who says they’re bland? What if I pick out one of your supermodel friends or like a professor, or something?”
“All my supermodel friends like to toke up in bathrooms and what’s a professor going to do? Lecture me to death? _____, please, I am begging you - be my date? You know you and I are going to have a blast, I promise you. We always do when we’re together.”
A moment of silence passed while you shuddered in disgust. You couldn’t believe you were going to say this, but…  “So what should I wear?”
“Yes! That’s the spirit! Wear anything besides velvet because that’s my fabric of choice.”
“Can you at least do the picking for me? We should at least match in the slightest.”
Minho let out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, fine, I’ll do all the work.”
“You’re a pain in the ass, Mr. Lee.”
“It’s what I do best.”
After cleaning up the mess and a last quick polish on the Iron suit, the two of you took the elevator to the level below the basement where Minho parked his favorite fancy shmancy foreign sports car you couldn’t pronounce. In its shiny and spotless all-white glory sat his coup in his executive parking spot where no other car or person was in sight.
“Quite showy for you, isn’t it?” you accused your normally toned-down boss.
“I had a hunch that today was going to be the day we finished, and low and behold, we did. Soojung the Spyder always brings me good luck,” he patted and praised his prized roadster.
The distance from the office to your apartment was a solid forty-five minutes away by public transportation, right on the edge of being not too far, but not close enough, but by car it was only twenty-five minutes. During your first couple of years with the company, you enjoyed the lonely rides and getting lost with your thoughts, but there were moments you got so lost that you missed your stop a couple too many times and sometimes the winter made waiting outside so unbearable. It wasn’t until you started to clock in tons of overtime that Minho was nice enough to drive you home from then on.
--
“C’mon, _____, just get in the car,” Minho begged for the twelfth time, holding the passenger door open with one hand and an umbrella with the other. He parked his car illegally right in front of the bus stop that so many other employees used. Why did it matter that you were using it while it was thunderstorming and past 10:00 PM? “The heat is escaping the longer we argue.”
“It’s fine! I don’t live too far away,” you lied. “Please go home, Mr. Lee, your puppy must be worried sick.”
“Hazelnut can wait, but I can’t. As your boss, I order you to get in my car!” Though the statement was serious with his booming voice, his pouty lips made it much less intimidating.
“With all due respect, I have clocked out for the day and I don’t have to listen to you until 7:00 am tomorrow.”
“I can’t believe you’re making me break the law.”
“What do you mean?”
The blinding lights of the bus flashed irregularly, a polite way of telling Minho to get the fuck out of the way. But he didn’t move in the slightest. He patiently waited for you by the passenger door, not moving a muscle and looking like a car model dressed in his long, warm and tan pea coat. The patient and smug look on his face let you know he wasn’t playing around and that he’d dare tell the bus to wait until you got in.
“Mr. Lee, get out of the way!”
“Not until you’re in my car,” he shook his head stubbornly. “The bus is getting closer ~”
Your anxiousness hiked up exponentially when the driver held the horn long and loudly, not looking like they had much patience in them and indicating that they were very, very annoyed. For the sake of not inconveniencing the butt-load of passengers and the driver and securing your job, you hurried into his car, cursing up a storm that rivaled the one outside. A triumphant and smirking Minho followed suit and sped away at a dangerous speed, perhaps breaking a second law that night. For those twenty-five minutes (or maybe it was fifteen with Minho’s driving), the car was silent because your reckless boss focused on cutting every civilian off on the highway and you were too busy covering your eyes in fear.
--
“You were so dramatic back then,” Minho snickered at the seemingly-harmless memory.
“Me!? You were the one who parked in front of a bus stop and begged me to get in!”
“You were the one who wouldn’t get in the damn car!”
“How does it look to on-lookers that a secretary is getting into her boss’s car!?”
“It’s not like anyone knows our relationship.”
“Oh please, someone like you driving a beautiful shiny car picking up sad ol’ me at the bus stop - of course on-lookers may not know me and my relationship to you, but they definitely know who you are at the very least.”
“I could not give more than zero fucks of what people think.”
“Yes, that much is clear.”
“_____, you can’t always worry about what everyone thinks ~”
You sighed loudly, as if you’d explained this to him a thousand times already. “Worrying is the basis of my entire title, Mr. Lee.”
“And will you drop the ‘Mr. Lee’ once and for all? We’re the same age!”
“Same age, but different titles and a massive pay gap. You and I are not equals.”
Minho reached over to mess up your hair. “You’re so formal, it’s so cute!”
“Ah, stop it! You’re swerving!!”
Minho had dropped you off and walked you up to your apartment more times than you can count, but you don’t think you’ll ever get over the embarrassment of your humble abode. Of course you’ve visited his mansion just as many times, since you participated in the designing of it, and him having to see such a sad home in comparison is, well, terrifying each and every time.
“Ok, bye,” you dismissed quickly.
A handsome laugh escaped your handsome boss’s lips. “Still hate having me so close to your home? You know, it’s quite rude you’ve never invited me in and yet you’ve been in mine hundreds of times!”
“My home doesn’t have marble statues or glass refrigerators and I can’t hire you to redesign the interior.”
“You know I don’t care about that stuff.”
“But I do!”
His tongue tisked disappointedly. “What a shame. I thought we were friends.”
“We are, but friends don’t break sensitive boundaries.”
He passively waved you off. “Fine, fine. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Bright and early.”
“Excellent. I have one request.”
It was your turn to pout. What could he possibly want this time? “Already? At least let me sleep peacefully.”
“It’s nothing complicated, I promise! In fact, it’ll save you thirty minutes. Don’t bring me my coffee tomorrow.”
“Don’t? Are you on a caffeine cleanse again? You know how badly that went last time - you barely lasted two days and you fired someone, to which I had to convince you for forty minutes to hire them back.”
“No, not a cleanse. Just come in a bit earlier. Let’s get coffee together.”
“Do you have time for that?” Knowing how packed Minho’s schedule was in the mornings, you wondered his sanity for making time just so the two of you could grab a cup.
“I’ll make time. Actually, you’ll make time. Can you pencil us in for some coffee?”
“U-Uh, yeah!” With nervous and shaky hands, you pulled out your work phone and squeezed in half an hour of coffee time. “Done.”
“Perfect. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Don’t be reckless driving home.”
“No promises.”
Before going into your apartment complex, you watched Minho wave goodbye before blasting music with a deep bass and speeding off, leaving a smokey trail from burning rubber.
“I hate him,” you smiled to yourself.
--
“I hate him,” you said to yourself upon walking into Minho’s office.
Like an artificially intelligent robot that didn’t know of its purpose, Minho dressed in his Iron suit walked around his office doing regular office things, like dusting the blinds and tidying up loose papers on his desk. It was a little difficult to do smaller tasks with his stiff and massive iron hands, so you’re not entirely sure what your boss was doing.
“G’morning!” he greeted cheerfully. “Just taking this baby out on a test drive.”
You had just noticed the paint job was completed on the suit which meant that it was good to go. However, you didn’t think this was the ideal way to ‘test drive’ a superhero suit. 
“Good morning, Mr. Lee. Is this really the right way to test drive?”
“I got too excited when my car guy told me it was done. He did it so quickly and precisely, too. Look, he even engraved it with my signature! She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”
“Yes, very shiny. The gold and red are much prettier than I imagined.”
“Right!? Not too Gryffindor-y, is it?”
“Not at all,” you said sincerely. “Do you want to get coffee now? We should hurry, you have a conference call at 8:00.”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
Minho followed you to the door with a trail of heavy iron steps. You turned around quickly and gave him an incredulous look, one he’s seen much too often. “I don’t want coffee anymore.”
“Why not!?”
“I’m not going out in public with you wearing that thing! You look ridiculous!”
“That’s so rude of you to say about my pride and joy! This also took me thirty minutes to put on!”
“Mr. Lee, we’re just getting coffee!”
“You are not fun at all.”
It took only five minutes to get your boss stumbling out of the suit because the button for the release was hidden under a metal panel on his wrist, but at least it was painless.
“I thought you didn’t want to reveal Iron Man until you tested it and got your seal of approval?” you asked the child-like man.
“That’s still the plan, but I’m just so excited! I think we should test it tonight.”
“Tonight? Already?”
“Yup, and I need you here with me in case I die, or something.”
“And to think I was gonna relax and take a bubble bath tonight.”
“It won’t take long, I promise.”
“I’ll believe it when I drop my bath bomb in my tub.”
In your whole time working here, you’ve spent more time together with Minho at both the office and at his home than working alone. The ratio was about seventy-five percent at the office, fifteen percent at his home, and ten percent miscellaneous, like going to business lunches or simple walks to the coffee shop like today. The long work hours were brutal on your feet and your social life, but the money was way too good to pass. You swore you broke the world record for ‘quickest payment of student debt’ with your hard work.
To anyone else, your job sounded so unappealing that no amount of money could ever convince them to do what you’re doing. ‘So brave’, they tell you, but it’s not that you’re brave, it’s that you’re loyal and as much as you hate to say it, you had the best boss. Yes, he’s a little goofy and yes, maybe a bit naive because he’s so young, but he treated you like you’re his equal and not someone so beneath him who takes all of his notes and takes his laundry to be dry cleaned. Plus when he compensated for your time so handsomely, how could you hate your job? Every day was new and exciting when you were with Minho.
The day went along as normal, from conference calls to lunch and finishing the day with an interview with the press. The very second everyone clocked out at 5:00 pm, you followed a speedy boss to wherever he led you.
“Are we going to test it out now?”
“No, silly, it’s still too bright out! We have to test it once the sun sets.”
You knew that sounded too good to be true. You held a light jog in order to keep up with him. “Where are we going then?”
He turned and gave you a suspicious grin. “Shopping!”
“For what!?”
“You and I need matching outfits for the charity ball, remember?”
“You know, I was just kidding when I said that… We don’t have to match…” The last thing you want is for someone to mistake you as your boss’s date instead of his secretary, but to be fair you don’t know many guests going that bring anyone that isn’t a date, so you kind of shot yourself in the foot when you didn’t make that shot into the trash bin.
“We are matching and I am not arguing with you.”
A defeated sigh escaped your lips before entering the backseat of Minho’s car where his driver would take us anywhere he pleased. He told him a cross section that sounded familiar, but not enough for you to guess where you’re going, so from here on out until you were home taking a hot bath, the rest of today would be a surprise. 
The car stopped in front of a glossy black DIOR building. You expected nothing less from Minho.
“You would pick Dior,” you scoffed, completely amazed at how someone so rich could have so much brand loyalty to one company.
“Hey, they are consistent and beautifully crafted, don’t judge me.”
“Mr. Lee and Lovely _____!” An older, graceful lady came running to greet both of you with a warm smile dressed in a hot red shade of lipstick. You recognized her voice to be the owner from all the times you called to ask about any pieces Minho could reserve before they hit the runway and were snatched up by the ‘I Have Daddy’s Credit Card and Inheritance’ private-school boys. This was your first time seeing her in person and her calming voice matched her mature appearance perfectly. “This piece has been waiting for you ~”
“I can’t wait, Auntie,” he smiled back graciously like an obedient nephew rewarded with cookies.
She led the two of you to the very back where the private dressing and tailoring area was, where the mirrors went from the floor to the ceiling. The store owner walked in with Minho’s fabric of choice, a velvet jacket with crisp black pants and a white button-up that had the slightest sheen of silver from metallic strands woven into the shirt fabric. In the shadows, one would think the velvet was black, but in the light or at certain angles, there was the slightest sheen to it that showed the darkest shades of indigo and green, like an oil slick. You couldn’t believe the amount of detail in the velvet that your eyes looked like they were popping out of your sockets.
Your boss was so eager to try it on that he was taking off his pants before you were warned. Quickly you turned around and shut your eyes, pretending that you didn’t see his KakaoTalk-patterned boxer briefs.
“M-M-Mr. Lee! At least warn me if you’re going to strip!!”
“Sorry ~” he apologized unapologetically.
A couple of zips and rustling of fabrics later, Minho tapped your shoulder to turn around. Your eyes bulged out of their sockets again while looking at your boss dressed in a suit that was clearly made for him and him only. It didn’t look like any tailoring was needed at all! He looked like he walked right off the runway. There had to be some enchantment spell in the fabric because you swear you’ve never seen any man more handsome before this moment.
“I take it you like it?” Minho teased.
Your cheeks tickled with red when he caught you staring. “You look amazing as usual, Mr. Lee.”
“You think so?” You knew so. “It’s not too flashy, is it?”
“Not at all. I think you have the perfect amount of flash. How does it feel?”
“Like a glove. It’s already perfectly tailored!”
“I know your measurements by heart, my dear,” Auntie bragged. “Of course I had it ready to go already.”
“You’re the best.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek and a tight hug. “What would I be without you?”
“Not GQ’s best dressed man under thirty, that’s for sure.”
“Could you do me another favor? Do you perhaps have something for _____ to match? We have a charity ball next weekend.”
“Mr. Lee, this is really unnecessary -”
“I know exactly what to pull.”
Before you could object, Auntie ran to the back of the store where all the hidden inventory was held. You glared at your cheeky boss, still dressed in his sexy outfit and it was hard to keep your glare when he looked so damn good, that handsome bastard.
“I’m not wearing whatever she brings out.”
“You will and you’ll look great and we will buy it, so don’t embarrass me.”
“Embarrass you!? I am not your doll!”
“I’ve got it!”
Both you and Minho whipped your heads to see Auntie running in with a blacker than black satin and silky outfit that was simple but elegant. Nervous goosebumps spread through your arms and straight to your wallet. You already knew this was going to be the most expensive outfit you’ve ever worn.
“It’s beautiful,” you gasped so slightly.
“Try it on!”
Minho followed Auntie out of the dressing room but not before shooting you a triumphant wink. I mean, who were you to deny your boss and the store owner, right? So with ease, you put on the cooling fabric that clung to your body in all the right spots. The mirror did all justice and perhaps it was a magical mirror that Dior spent millions on to convince their customers to buy everything because damn, you look hot! With your face as red as Minho’s Corvette, you presented the outfit to the two judges.
“Oh, it fits perfectly!” Auntie gushed with wide eyes.
Minho stayed silent with his mouth ajar and eyes scanning you up and down like you were a precious gem discovered in a deep cave beyond a waterfall. It was hard to differentiate between feeling flattered and feeling like object, but at least you were a desired object, right?
“You look amazing,” Minho admitted sincerely, no longer looking at you with awe and rather content.
“Really? I look ok?”
His handsome smile shined brightly at you. Whether you were dressed in your formal work clothes that screamed ‘absolute virgin’ or you were head-to-toe in Dior, you were never just ‘ok’. You always had the attention of everyone in the room once you walked in, especially his. You were always stunning, no matter what. Validation from your boss always came easy and calmed you quickly because he only had eyes for you.
“You look just fine,” he lied, because ‘fine’ didn’t come close to how you looked to him.
“We’ll be the best dressed at the ball, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
The car ride home was quiet other than the trot music playing on the radio from the driver’s playlist. Minho seemed as cool as a cucumber, but you were at the edge of your seat feeling a bit awkward and ugh, unintentionally sweaty. Compliments from any man was one thing, but coming from your boss? A whole different level of weird, especially if they weren’t work related! What did ‘you look just fine’ even mean!? Was that a good thing? Were you too average-looking? Whatever it was, from now until you fall asleep at ungodly hours, those words were going to circulate your thoughts, perhaps haunt you for days.
At exactly 7:03 pm, just as the sun set below the horizon revealing the indigo night sky, the driver pulled up to the back entrance of the building that led to a secret elevator that would take you straight to the underground office after punching in the code. A giggling and grinning Minho was the first to hop out of the car and ran towards the door.
“Mr. Lee, hold on!” you whined as you struggled to get out of the tall car.
“Hurry up, _____! Now’s the perfect time to earn that OT!”
“This time-and-a-half pay better be worth it…”
Upon entering the elevator, you were ready to punch in the 4419 code, but Minho had already pressed the button to the top level, which led to the roof slash helipad.
“Why are we going up?”
“We can’t test the suit inside, silly. Seungmin came by earlier to pick up his suit after I recalibrated it last night and I asked him to take the suit to the roof.”
“How, that thing weighs like a ton!”
“Not when you’re wearing it.”
“You let him wear it before you test drove it!? Mr. Lee, that’s extremely reckless!”
“Relax, I trusted he wouldn’t mess anything up, and look! It’s right there!”
The glass elevator made a slow stop to reveal the red and gold suit standing proudly in the center of the helipad. As soon as the doors panned open, Minho handed you his suitcase before running out and tossing his blazer onto the floor before hastily stepping into the suit.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, running back to your frazzled state. He took the leather suitcase from your hands and popped it open so he could give you a glass tablet. “This is for you.”
You looked at the shiny slab of glass with wonder. “What is it?”
“It’s like a control center. You’ll see what I see in terms of my stats and where I am in the city. If anything goes wrong, like say the jets give out, I need you to send a command to manually turn on the back-ups.”
“And what code is that?”
“Not important, we’ll study those later.”
“Later!? What if something happens tonight!?”
“Nothing will happen I promise, I’ll see you in a bit ~!” his cheering faded away the further he ran from you and to his beloved suit.
There was no use in fighting your boss, so you did as you were told and touched the tablet to reveal the control panel. It was black for a few moments before the screen showed your tiny self off in the distance looking down at the tablet which meant that Minho was able to put on and turn on the suit super quickly without any problems.
“What do you see?” he asked you through the speakers of the tablet from his built-in microphone in the helmet.
“I see me in the distance, the battery level of the suit, and all other weird liquids and commodities at one hundred percent.”
“Perfect!”
You turned to look at your boss who was stretching and feeling out the suit as if this wasn’t his 50th time wearing it. Still, he looked so excited and proud of his hard work, it was hard to tease him about how childish he was, even if he was trying out his yoga poses he just learned. 
“How does it feel?”
“It feels incredible! Totally indescribable now that I’m out in the open. And it’s surprisingly lightweight.”
“How were you able to make it feel light with all that metal?”
“I don’t know, if I’m being honest…”
You rolled your eyes. “The work of a genius, huh?”
“You’ve got that right. Are we ready to take off?”
“I believe so. Are you ready to take off?”
“More than I’ll ever be, baby!!”
Before you knew it, you saw the camera’s view on the screen wobble and turn towards the edge of the building. Terrified, you saw your child-like boss get a running start before he dove off the edge and into the sea of the city.
In a panic, you ran and took a peak over the edge, hoping the jets or whatever kept the suit flying would operate properly and leave you without any worries. At first, Minho was but a dark red speck falling beneath the shadows, but a second later, he came flying up at lighting speed doing tricks and flips with ease and whooping loudly, as any normal CEO of a software company slash wannabe superhero would do. You could hear him giggling through your tablet, and like a spectator watching the most spectacular aerial performance, you watched him with a smile on your lips.
After his solo, he glided back down to you and hovered beyond the edge just at your eye level. You couldn’t see any features behind the glass of his eyes so you were left awkwardly staring at his expressionless helmet with those signature weird fangs. After all you and Minho have been through together, even with an idea like this being so ridiculously obscure, he could always rely on you to support him no matter what. He saw how your eyes sparkled with wonderment and how your cheeks dusted a soft pink and it was then that he knew you would stay by his side for even more ridiculous shenanigans to come.
He would never let you leave, anyways. Even in another lifetime, he’d have you by his side forever.
“How cool do I look right now?” he asked. His voice sounded deeper and electronic through the helmet, like he was a robot or had his voice programmed through a phone like Siri. You imagined an idea like that was how Minho planned on becoming immortal one day.
You raised a brow. “You look kind of… scary?”
“Scary!? Why?”
“I don’t know, if I saw a flying robot come at me at rocket speed, I think I’d be terrified!”
“Well, if I come to your rescue, at least you’ll know it’s me.”
“I suppose. So what are you going to do now? Throw a reveal event? Press conference, perhaps?”
“That, or wait for a Demon-Level threat to pass through our city. I don’t know, whichever comes first.” Minho shrugged nonchalantly. “Wanna see something cool?”
Before you could agree, Minho held his palm to the sky before a neon blue blast shot out of it, disappearing into God-knows-where. You could feel the heat from the beam of light radiated around you and fear sparked inside your chest.
“What the hell was that!?” you exclaimed.
“Isn’t that so cool!? Gonna hit some suckers and fry them up like bacon!” Your boss blindly shot another beam of light into the sky and you prayed to someone out there that no planes would disintegrate in the process.
“Hey, careful! What if you hit a satellite or something!” In the process of grabbing Minho’s iron hand so he’d stop being so reckless, you burned yourself upon touching the hot metal opening like a total dumb ass and yanked your hand back. “Ah!!”
“Oh, shit.”
Quickly and haphazardly, Minho landed back on the helipad and climbed out of the iron suit. In the process of running back to your aid, he untied his black silk necktie to use as a temporary band aid on your scalding palm. Gingerly, his cold hands took yours and ran a thumb over the scarring semicircle.
“Ah ah ah stop!!” you cried with tears of pain and embarrassment streaming down your cheeks.
“Sorry! Here,” Minho wrapped his tie around your palm and tied it tightly. The pure silk felt cooling against the burn and soon your tears stopped and you couldn’t do anything else besides sniffle. “Let’s go back inside. My office has a first aid kit.”
Your mumbling and cursing boss led you back to his office with urgency, blaming himself for being so stupid and recklessly playing with what could be considered a weapon of mass destruction. And now his favorite person, the one person who believed in his iron suit, was hurt in the process, pouting cutely and holding your burned hand like you were an injured puppy. This was one of his greatest fears upon completing this project.
You sat on his sapphire blue velvet couch with the bronze-gilded frame that looked like it belonged in the Ravenclaw common room trying to alleviate the pain of the burn in Minho’s ice bucket (for his white wine, of course) while he shifted through his drawers to find the first aid kit you gave him a couple years ago.
“Do you remember when you got this for me?” he asked as soon as he pulled it out from the bottom drawer. You shook your head, too lightheaded and in too much pain to remember. He sat next to you and began to tell the old story while patching you up. “It was your third year working here, but my first day as CEO when I took over for my Dad. I got so many paper cuts from all the paperwork I had to read and sign and I got a massive headache afterwards and I just wanted to eat something because all I had that day was an iced americano. It was so late and by the time I was finished, it was maybe 7:00pm -”
“8:00 pm,” you corrected in between sniffles.
“Ah, so you do remember! At 8:00pm, you waltzed into my office wearing your comfiest clothes with a bag of take-out in one hand and the first aid kit with a million bandaids and Tylenol in the other. That night, you sat in my office and helped patch up my fingers, fed me lo mein, and helped me with the rest of the paperwork for two hours. I thought of you as my guardian angel since that day and vowed to myself that no matter what, you and I would stick by each other’s side and be the dynamic duo that we are forever. Oh, how the tables have turned tonight. Now I’m the one patching you up.”
Minho had finished wrapping your palm at the end of his story. Something about his proclamation didn’t sit right with you. Something about staying here forever, clocking in massive amounts of overtime and being subservient to the same men sounded like your own personal hell.
“I can’t be your secretary forever, Mr. Lee.”
“I know,” he admitted. “But I don’t have to think about that for quite some time, right?”
“Maybe.”
“I hate change, you know.”
“I, more than anyone else, know that.”
Your handsome boss chuckled lightly at the heavy subject. His curly coffe hair covered his eyes as he looked down at your hand and traced small shapes on the bandaid. You knew that he knew you didn’t want to stay here forever, and he couldn’t blame you, but it didn’t make the thought of you leaving any less heartbreaking.
“Does it feel any better?”
“Much better,” you said truthfully as the cooling gel felt like a magical potion.
“This first aid kit is the only practical gift I’ve ever received. All others are for the aesthetic.”
“Do you prefer practical gifts, Mr. Lee?”
“Of course! The fuck am I going to do with a VVS diamond-encrusted chain?”
“Flex on all the other young CEOs?”
“And partake in their pissing contest? No, thank you.”
“You’re telling me you won’t be doing that this weekend at the Charity Ball?”
“When I have you next to me, I don’t need VVS diamonds,” Minho grinned flirtatiously.
You hit his arm with your good hand and he flinched upon his correct prediction. “I am not an accessory!”
“Of course not! You are my beloved intelligent sidekick that all other big wigs tell me they wished they had! But when you look like that, it’s bonus points ~”
“Ugh, your kind are all the same!” you scoffed, trying to collect your things and storm out the door.
“It’s a compliment!” he teased. Minho managed to chase after you and grab your things to carry to his car so he could drive you home for the 1106th time.
--
After a long and tiring rest of the week helping your boss do target practicing with the iron suit on, Saturday had arrived and now you had the honor of accompanying said-boss to a Big Dick contest disguised as a Charity Ball. The main event was for the sake of the children of course, but the real show was to see who was wearing what designer with what accessories and who pulled up in the fanciest sports car with the youngest and sexiest date in their arms. You were so, so lucky to be working for someone who liked to stay low key, despite always being the center of attention.
“Why are you so nervous?” Minho teased, nudging your arm as you both walked up to the front doors of the venue. “This isn’t the first time you’ve played as my date.”
“I know, but it doesn’t get any easier,” you admitted, shyly covering yourself from the much-more revealing outfit now that it was tailored to fit.
“You and I look fine! Muted colors, minimal diamonds, low key attitudes - we’re perfect! No one will even notice we’re here.”
That was a complete lie, because the second you walked in, a swarm of gossip columnists and magazine writers circled around the two of you, bombarding you both with the same questions you were so used to.
“Mr. Lee, who are you wearing?”
“Mr. Lee, who’s your lovely date?”
“Mr. Lee, what’s the best way to lock in that your date will go home with you?”
Minho raised his hand slightly and all that could be heard were the cameras clicking. God, the power he has… 
“Dior, a close friend, and be so irresistible that they can’t say no.”
Without another word, he gently took your bandaged hand and led you out of the circle of gossipers who were silent in awe. With your free hand, you covered up your ugly laughing.
“You’re such a cornball!” you said in between a fit of giggles.
“An irresistible cornball, at least. Now, walk me through all these people again?”
Minho was young and when it came to networking, he still had the mentality of being the CEO’s son rather than the CEO. That meant that Minho didn’t care much in remembering other CEO’s names and relied on you to remind him of all the people he should have remembered three years ago. It was a consistent hour of introductions and small talk about future goals, collaborations, and golfing, all of which you were able to expertly tune out while sipping prosecco and snacking on caviar tarts. Years of experience thankfully made these events easier.
“Did you practice your speech for your donation?” you reminded Minho after taking a seat at the prestigious Table 2. Since the company was one of the Charity Ball’s biggest sponsors, the CEOs were always invited to say some manufactured speech.
“Yeah. I even practiced it in the shower. Hopefully I get the charity organization correct this time.”
“It’s amazing how you even got this far.”
The Charity Ball should have been named See Who Can Donate the Most Money Ball because every speech given by a CEO of some company tried to out-do each other. Luckily, your company’s speeches were always last and your touch of humanity written on paper always had the audience in awe with the Minho’s compassion. To pass the time, you and Minho played rock-paper-scissors and whomever lost had to drink champagne. Let’s just say Minho ended up having the infamous Asian Glow.
His face was still blushy by the time it was his turn and you almost felt bad because the pictures with the flash turned on probably wouldn’t be so flattering in the magazines, but that wouldn’t matter because he still looks like the most stunning man in the room. All eyes were on him as he made his speech, but he had his eyes on you. Probably because he would piss his pants if he saw how many people were looking at him. You gave him two thumbs up for encouragement.
“It is the greatest honor to be here and giving a speech for the third year in a row. Children are the source and future for a better world, and it is our duty to -”
You blanked out for most of it since you wrote it. It was hard to focus anyways when his eyes were so piercing, so you averted his gaze and counted the number of peppercorns on his unfinished steak. At an alarming fifty-three, you glanced around the gallery to see if anyone was actually paying attention. Many, if not all, of the guests around your age were paying attention with dreamy eyes and pouty lips, all wishing they were in your position tonight. Some even dared to make eye contact with you as if to say, ‘how DARE you NOT pay attention to the sexiest man alive!?’ The older, more powerful guests seemed genuinely interested in the amount Minho was donating and the older dates seemed to care more about their reflection on the back of a spoon.
The fattest check with a bunch of zeros was walked onto the stage. A standing ovation was in order of course, and you conformed with the crowd, even though applause always made Minho visibly uncomfortable.
“He throws a big, fat check to charity and yet he still doesn’t like the attention, huh?”
As the clapping died down and the noise faded into the smooth hum of the live piano and jazz music, you turned to face the owner of a familiar sly voice. The man that stood before you was the famous doctor slash art collector slash playboy who you’ve come to know after attending all of these flashy events.
You smiled slyly at the man. “If it isn’t GQ’s Bachelor of the Month, Dr. Park Seonghwa.”
The raven-haired man gave you his signature smirk. Then he took your hand and kissed it tenderly like the prince he is. “Lovely _____, pleasure to see you as always.”
“Have you been doing that to all the other guests you frequent at these events?”
“Of course not! Just the beautiful ones.”
You let out a loud scoff. “You and your way with words.”
“Are they enough to convince you to finally go out to dinner with me?”
“Not quite.”
Seonghwa sighed tiredly and dropped his head as if this was the first time you’ve rejected him. Guess every time felt like the first time. The handsome raven held his hand out to you. “If not dinner, how about a dance?”
Hesitantly, you searched for your boss like you were trying to sneak away from a parent. He was busy shaking hands and catching up with The Important People’s Club, so you didn’t think one dance would hurt, though once you feed a dog a treat, he’ll be begging for more forever.
You took his hand. “One dance.”
“Five.”
“One.”
“Three?”
“Dr. Park!”
“What!? Ok, fine, one dance, unless you’re really feeling it and then we’ll dance some more.”
“Maybe in another lifetime, Dr. Park.”
The young doctor led you to the dance floor before you could object further. For someone not-so-smooth with pick-up lines, he was definitely smooth with his moves. With one gentle hand on your waist and the other holding your hand, you two glide around the white tiles like the Royalty of the ball, and truly, for a few moments, it really felt like you were the star of this fairy tale.
Seonghwa let out a tired sigh. “Intelligent, beautiful, loyal, and good at dancing? How are you so good at everything?”
“Stop that.”
“I mean it! Yet no man swept you off your feet.”
“Just because I won’t say yes to you, doesn’t mean I’m not waiting for that special someone.”
Seonghwa held your hand up high and made you do a little twirl. “You might be waiting for a while, beautiful.”
“Why do you say that?”
“With Mr. Minho by your side twenty-five hours eight days a week, there is no man that has the courage to come in between such a strong relationship.”
“Even you?” you challenged.
“Even I. Unless you want me to -”
“Nope.”
“Ice cold heart as always…”
Song number one melted into song number two and it passed you both as you continued to discuss the hot topic of why you’re still single. It’s a conversation topic that you thought was reserved for nosy family members for you to brush off, but coming from another man who has begged for your number since you both met really put your love life into perspective. Perhaps you were too loyal to your boss…
While engulfed in the heated debate, Minho was desperately searching for his right hand where he thought you’d be - either at your seat or by the bar, but you were at neither. After receiving his order from the bar, he let the expensive gold liquid over ice flooded through his bloodstream, which led him to a group of gawking gossipers whining and gazing at the dance floor. What was all the hype about?
The sight of you in the arms of the world’s most arrogant doctor didn’t sit too well with him. The scene made him see green.
“You’re such a liar!” Minho heard you laugh aloud. “I did NOT give you so-called bedroom eyes at Yuta’s house warming!”
“You’re telling me you weren’t eyeing me up and down like a barbecued piece of pork belly dipped in sesame oil?”
“That’s because you had sesame oil on your white shirt!”
“Excuses, excuses.”
Minho took another sip of his golden drink before putting it down haphazardly and waltzing towards the dancing couple. To onlookers, this scene looked like it was straight out of those cheesy love triangle dramas. The gossipy gals wondered - would Minho punch Seonghwa? Would he grab your hand harshly and drag you away to scold you and tell you how much he cared about you? Would he kiss you!?
You saw your uncharacteristically stern-looking boss approaching, and even though you’re unsure of his intentions, you still smiled brightly, as you always did whenever you saw him. Minho lightened his heavy, angry steps. Even with another man by your side, you still looked at him. How could he be mad at you?
“Hello, Mr. Minho,” Seonghwa greeted, holding out a hand for him to shake. You knew your boss wasn’t the biggest fan of Seonghwa, but he politely returned the gesture anyways. Somehow you felt your heart beating in your throat - the tension on the dance floor was too high, too powerful, and you were but an awkward and nervous secretary standing on the side while two powerful men duked it out.
“Dr. Seonghwa, nice to see you again.” Minho was good at lying, but his lies never passed you. The amount of discomfort knitted in his eyebrows almost made you snicker. “Long nights at the hospital still?”
“As always, but at least it’s rewarding and enjoyable. How are your long nights at the office?”
“Can’t get enough of them, right, _____?”
“What? You’re still doing that much overtime?” Seonghwa asked worriedly. Now, was he worried because you were overworking yourself or was he worried because you were spending so much time with a man that wasn’t him?
You shrugged unapologetically. “I love that overtime pay.”
“_____, that’s not good for your health -”
“I tell them that all the time,” Minho interrupted defensively. He was always like this whenever anyone questioned the amount of work you had. To you, it was not much of a burden at all, but to anyone else, they couldn’t fathom your work hours but if they saw your paycheck, maybe they’d understand. Even your boss felt bad whenever your friends blamed him, but  no matter how much he tried to convince you of a normal 40-hour work week, the duties of being his secretary never added up to just that. Therefore, your boss always felt the need to defend you and him for the sake of making sure you weren’t portrayed as his slave. “But you’re just so stubborn, aren’t you?”
“Only because it’s you, Mr. Lee,” you said like you’re reading a script. Somehow that doesn’t translate through the ears of the two powerful men in front of you, as your boss smiled triumphantly and Seonghwa couldn’t help but shake his head.
“If you ever want to take me up on that date, Lovely _____, you know who to call.” The most handsome man who’s ever flirted with you took your hand gently and planted a sweet, soft kiss that sent little tingles all up your arm. You don’t think you’ll ever reciprocate his feelings, but the feeling of being desired and wanted by a man really kicked up your ego and really made you think - when was the last time you ever liked someone, or someone ever liked you?
Park Seonghwa disappeared into the crowd and perhaps left the Charity Ball all together. Until next time.
Your boss turned to face you, whose stern face quickly melted into innocence as he knew what was coming by the look on your annoyed expression. “What?”
“What was that all about?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You shook your head and mumbled under your breath, “Ugh, you are unbelievable, Mr. Lee.”
As you tried to escape, the desperate man caught your hand. “Wait, where are you going?”
“Away from you for just five minutes, can you let me do that?” you snapped in a hushed volume. “Or do you need to watch over me and speak on my behalf, since you’re my Father apparently!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to act like that.”
“You say that every time, especially when I’m talking to another man and even more-so when I’m talking to Dr. Park. When will your sorries mean something?”
“You know I get protective over you.”
“Again, you are not my Father!”
“I know, but -”
All of the attention that was once focused on the handsome CEO and his secretary shifted to the glass ceiling that was now shattered to pieces upon the force of some dozens of masked strangers dressed in all black. Minho instinctively, though harshly, forced you down so he could hover over you so none of the glass hit you. What followed seemed to be too numbing, as all of the stimuli in the banquet hall was too much to handle.
“Get down,” Minho instructed while pushing you under one of the tables. “Don’t move until I come back.”
“Wait, but where are you -”
“I’ll be back in ten minutes!”
“Mr. Lee!”
Of course, he didn’t listen, as Mr. Lee always did what he wanted, right? Which would normally annoy the fuck out of you, but who has the time to panic about what your boss was up to when you’re stranded under the table and shrouded by cheap table cloth linen?
Since those people had invaded and fallen from the sky, you noticed that no gunshots or any sort of violence outside of melee were heard. No purpose of the attack is even known yet, but the signs were promising, until the famous alarm was heard throughout the whole town.
“Threat level: Dragon. Please stay inside until all threats have been cleared. Threat level: Dragon. Please stay inside until -”
“Ah, yes, the richest of the rich gather here today to donate the smallest percentage of their some billions of dollars to charity,” a booming voice tisked through a microphone. “Do you feel good about your good deed of the year? Are you proud of yourselves?”
For some unknown reason, the voice paused, as if waiting for an answer or a reaction from the people. Nothing was heard besides shrill screaming and crying, which was probably what the wannabe-vigilante wanted. For the first time, you peaked through the slits of the table cloth. At the stage where Minho gave his speech was a now-broken stage with the foot of a giant robot through it. It was a very top-heavy robot that looked like it had a large cavity in its belly, whose odd shape probably served some weird purpose unknown to everyone.
“Perhaps you’ll be proud of your donations for once when we capture you all and milk you of your every last penny!” The man laughed evilly at the head of the robot. “Down with the rich!”
“Down with the rich!” his people cheered in unison.
The oddly political turn of events made the scene less jarring - it seemed like an over-exaggeration of townspeople coming together to fight for higher taxing of the rich. Then you were reminded of the Dragon-level threat by how the minions loaded up the richies with a gun pointed to their heads and the complex mechanism that loaded them up to the belly of the robot. Somewhere among the mass of people you saw Seonghwa in between another surgeon and a senior engineer at Tesla before he disappeared behind the walls of metal.
“Hey, I found another one!” someone yelled close by. “Under Table 2!”
Shit. “Fuck.”
Perhaps all those years of advance self defense classes that Minho’s father enrolled you in would come to good use this time.
By your glamorously-strapped heel, one of the masked men dragged you out from under the table. There was no use in struggling, and the man seemed quite satisfied with how you complied.
“Let’s go, darling.”
With your free foot, you dug the pointy end of the studded heel into his groin. Luckily, you can only ever imagine how painful something like that could feel. He was in so much pain that he doubled over and let go of your foot, leaving you to flee to God-knows-where after you stole his police baton.
“Don’t fucking call me darling,” you spat as a farewell.
There were too many men in between you and the emergency exit, so you had to fight your way through like in those cheesy American action movies. A bunch of kicks in the groin here and a couple baton to the knee caps there were enough to get you by half way, but then they started double-teaming on you. Of course, this was much harder, but Senior Mr. Lee didn’t give you the best sensei in the damn nation for no reason. You felt invincible even after defeating multiple double teams, but it was the triple teaming that got you stuck. You can only kick and baton so many groins at one time until two men held each of your arms and the other stole the baton.
While struggling to break free, you managed to knee the one in front of you in the chin, causing him to cut his lip with blood dripping on his cheap leather shoes. After realizing what had happened, he punched you in the cheek as punishment. Was that a bone you heard cracking?
“Try me again, bitch,” he seethed.
Out of nowhere, your knight in Iron armor landed before the one who punched you and returned the favor, sending his body through so many walls of this building that you worried about the foundation and how long you had before it collapsed.
Minho’s red and gold helmet swung sharply and the empty eyes were staring into the souls of your captors while at the same time not.
“Who’s next?” Minho threatened with his super cool and inaccurately deep robotic voice.
Both men fled the scene as quickly as possible, losing their grip and throwing you to the floor. The penny taste finally registered in your brain that yes, you were definitely coughing and spitting out blood.
The cold metal of Iron Man’s hand helped you to your feet while the other cupped your quickly-bruising cheek gently. The underlying tenderness of your boss’s touch somehow healed all pain, or perhaps it was the cooling iron. Gestures like these were so foreign that you almost forgot it was your boss behind the mask and not some handsome stranger who was ready to sweep you off your feet. It was instances like these where you wished the latter was real.
“Are you ok?” he asked gingerly.
“I’m fine,” you promised. “Go save your investors.”
A light chuckle came from Iron Man. “My driver’s already waiting outside. Are you able to run?”
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“C’mon, _____, now’s not the time -”
“Do not argue with me until you save everyone, Mr. Lee.”
Minho shook his head tiredly. He knew there was no use arguing with his headstrong secretary. “You’re so stubborn. Just promise you won’t get into any trouble this time.”
“No.”
“I’m cuttin’ down on your work hours!” he yelled, blasting off to fight the giant robot thing so he wouldn’t have to hear you argue back again.
You were left with a couple of masked minions who still had the balls to attack and capture you as if you were worth more than your surprisingly above-average five-figure salary. Your copper saliva mixed with your boss trusting you enough to not die in the middle of a Dragon-level threat really pumped the adrenaline through your veins, so as one man sprinted to attack, you managed to dodge it and kick him in the throat before he could try something else. The other guy tried to sneak up behind you, but you were quicker, swinging the baton hard enough to the head to knock him out cold. The power you felt coursing through your body left you on a major high. Where were all the other minions? No way was that all…
In the middle of the banquet hall was the face-off of the century, rivaling any and all story lines from DC and Marvel combined. A tiny seven-foot-something intricately crafted and painted sheet of metal was about to fight a giant several-stories tall and several-dozen-tons heavy hunk of junk with dozens of guests they managed to scoop inside. Now how was Mr. Lee going to save the day this time?
“Lee Minho, the man of the night,” the man controlling the ship scoffed. “You will look like my childhood favorite action figure once I stuff you in a glass box in my office! A prized treasure is what you’ll be. How does that sound?”
“Sounds kinky.” You could just sense the smirk behind his mask. “Then what will you do to me?”
“Milk you of all your assets, of course! Liquidation of its truest definition! The redistribution of wealth will come easy to the people, especially with your earnings in the mix!”
“Fine, take my money. But let these people go.”
“Absolutely not! I need all the money I can get! How do you expect me to change the distribution of wealth of the entire world with just one CEO’s salary!? Mr. Lee, I thought you knew that, silly.”
“Ok, fine. You take all of our money and then what?”
“Well, kill you, of course.”
A chorus of gasps and crying were heard from the belly of the machine.
The philosophical man continued. “People like you are the very reason there is a large pay gap. You sit on your ass drinking cocktails and eating caviar and you donate to some profiting charity only a tiny percentage of what you make while all the good hard-working people are the ones bringing the big bucks into your bank account! And what do they get? Small paychecks and four hours of sleep!”
Yeah, this guy was bad, but he had his points, so you’ll cheers to that, am I right?
“Well, then where will you get your money after that? Hm?” The captain stayed silent. “Where will you get more money to sustain this utopia? Certainly not from the hard-working people who have no experience leading or handling such a huge sum of money. And certainly not from you, right? Ha! With your five-figure salary paychecks that barely get the bills paid on time.”
A heavy arm swung to try and snatch up your boss. Though the arm was so large and heavy, Minho barely managed to escape his grasp. By the silence of the once-chatty leader of the pack, you could tell that he was bothered by the words spat by the youngest CEO in the room. How dare Minho mock his hard-earned pay when his earnings were given to him on a VVS diamond-encrusted platter!? There were a couple of times where he landed a couple of hits on your boss and you should feel worried, but you couldn’t help but think he deserved it. You hated to be on the enemy’s side, but you, too, were one of those five-figure salary paycheck owners that are barely scraping by with their bills. And of course you were all for the redistribution of wealth, but this guy definitely went a little too far…
You would think that the sheer size of this oddly-shaped hunk of metal wouldn’t be able to move so fast, but it managed to capture Minho by digging its claw to the wall and sandwiching Minho in between. He couldn’t even wiggle his way out between gaps because the thing was pressing too hard against the wall. Minho could feel the metal bending from inside.
“People like you will never understand the worth of the dollar,” the captain seethed. “Not when stacks come to you in baskets sewn with gold and jewels commissioned by your Daddy. People like you, and everyone captured, need to be humbled a little. Maybe you all can learn a little something from the working class.”
“Then we die, is that right?”
“Of course! But at least you’ll die a hard-working man, Mr. Lee.”
“I will. But I’ll die a hard-working man with billions in my grave before I let you take a penny!”
The blue beam of light that you once cursed for burning a half circle on your palm you were now thankful for, as that beam of light shot your boss up in the air and freed him, taking a few fingers off of the hunk of metal with him. A couple more shots of incinerator beams later, and both arms of the robot had been severed and half disintegrated. Minho kicked the glass where the leader sat and pulled out the defenseless lump of flesh that spoke the harsh truth about the wealthy. The leader was a young man who was not much older than either you or your boss, who didn’t look afraid in the slightest. Perhaps he expected, or even wanted, to go out this way - fighting for what he believed in.
The police, who had been waiting outside for all the ruckus to die down, came in and cuffed the leader and a few of his minions who cowardly hid under the tables. Minho helped all of his investors safely come out and among the crowd you saw Seonghwa, safe and sound.
You thought after a traumatic attack that now was not the time and place to reveal who Iron Man was or even associate yourself with him, so you tried to mix in with the crowd and book it to the driver like he asked you to do before. But of course your flaunty boss wanted to do the exact opposite.
“_____, wait!”
No, no, no, no, no, what the hell! Really!? Right now!? was how Minho read your expression as he walked to you with the suit on. When the seven-foot something Iron Man stopped before you, the face of his helmet slid open to reveal an out-of-breath Minho. The entire banquet hall echoed with gasps.
“Are you ok? You’re not hurt, are you? Your bruise is getting worse!”
You could not feel anything on the left half of your face besides intense pain and somehow numbness at the same time and your limbs felt like jello and over-kneaded dough. But you couldn’t let your boss worry about you - he needs to take care of more important people right now. You’ll be fine come tomorrow once you sleep on a frozen bag of peas.
“I’m fine, I promise,” you said convincingly. “Looks like you have an impromptu press conference to deal with.”
To Minho’s dismay, all of the cameras and press and the phones of his business friends captured his face inside the Iron suit next to his famous secretary that all his business friends wished they had. He knew you hated press conferences because even though you never said anything, you were always by his side and that meant the cameras were pointed at you also.
“I can deal with them. Go to the car and go home.”
“I can stay with you.”
“I won’t allow it. You need to go home and ice your face.”
“I said I -”
“I said go.”
Minho never raised his voice at you ever because he never had a reason to. You were always hard-working and loyal and you always did everything correctly and did it with his best interest in mind. He’ll allow small things that might be detrimental to your health, like all the over time you loved to have and the unhealthy amounts of coffee you drown yourself in. But when the arm that’s supporting your body weight was shaking, your left cheek was the color of aubergine, and you had blood splatters on different parts of your body, that’s when he had to draw the line. Worry was knitted into his brows and his lips were a flat line and you only ever saw his face like this whenever he talked with his father. It was terrifying to see him almost mad at you and it made your heart sink a little that you did something wrong.
He softened his expression upon seeing your glossy eyes. “Take Monday off to rest. I’ll see you on Tuesday, ok?”
“But -”
“I’ll pay you for your time off, so don’t worry about the money. I just want you to rest. Can you do that for me?” You could only nod. “Thank you. Go home - I’ll text you when I’m done cleaning up tonight.”
Minho plastered on his happy television face and returned to the fawning crowd and overly-thankful investors. You were blinded by the flashing camera lights and that was your cue that you didn’t belong there anymore.
The trot music-loving driver hummed the whole way home while driving on auto-pilot, as he had memorized the path to your apartment long ago. Sitting in the back seat covered head-to-toe in the finest satin wasn’t as luxurious when you were alone as opposed to having your equally-luxurious boss next to you. You imagined what it’d be like if a giant robot didn’t crash the party this evening: you’d probably yell at him more about how you needed space and that he was overreacting with the whole Seonghwa deal; then he might try to bribe you with food or dessert so that you’d stop pouting like a child (and you’d totally cave in); and finally, he’d walk you up to your doorstep begging to come inside once more and you’d deny his entry, only for him to leave you with a comment about how you were the most stunning person at the ball tonight.
In short, as much as you hated to admit it, the ride home was lonely. Can you believe that? Your short time alone away from your boss was fucking lonely. Not peaceful, not relaxing, not mind-clearing, but totally and completely lonely. So much so that your heart ached a little, and to put these feelings in the simplest terms, it was because you were so used to being by his side that the emptiness to the seat next to you mimicked an unfamiliar cavity in your heart. It’s a painful feeling, really, because that meant leaving this job would be much harder than you hoped.
As if he planted a tracking device in your phone, Minho texted you upon locking the front door to your place.
The Money Man [01:03 am]: did you make it home ok?
An involuntary smile spread across your lips.
You [01:04 am]: just got home. are you stalking me?
The Money Man [01:04 am]: you didn’t think the phone i gave you was completely harmless and bugless, did you? ;)
You [01:05 am]: i should have known better. how’s the impromptu press conference? are people surprised that it’s you?
The Money Man [01:07am]: they are, but at the same time it’s not. ppl keep asking me questions and won’t let me take the suit off, can you believe that!? it’s hot as balls in this thing!!
The Money Man [01:07am]: shit, gotta go - gotta somehow convince these idiots this is definitely NOT something to invest in.
You [01:08am]: text when you’re home.
The Money Man [01:08am]: yes, darling.
‘Darling’ has a nice ring to it.
--
Having Sunday all to yourself was normal and you did what you always did every weekend: cleaned your place, took your time making a nice meal, organizing all of your work papers, and ended the night with a hot shower and an ice pack to your cheek. Monday, on the other hand was a disaster. You were so bored! Your fingers were itching to scribble down your boss’s agenda and you were so tempted to log into your work laptop, but you knew Minho would chew your ear off for not listening to him and resting as you should. It wasn’t your fault that you were a work-a-holic!
After looking in the mirror and hating the way your face looked for the fiftieth time, it was time to accept that the bruise wouldn’t disappear for at least a couple more weeks. Sunday was at its ugliest, where the center of your cheek was a deep purple and there was this off-colored halo around the perimeter. Now, the swelling went down and it wasn’t as purple or painful, but still equally ugly no matter how you looked at it or tried to cover it up.
After a lonely and boring Monday afternoon, your doorbell rang around 5:00pm. You weren’t expecting any visitors or deliverymen, so upon peaking through your viewfinder, you were surprised to see your boss on the other side.
“What are you doing here?” you asked surprised.
Minho was glad you didn’t seem disgusted by his presence since he was the one who told you to take the day off and you must be tired of seeing his face by now. He whipped out an oily bag from behind his back with a child-like grin on his face. It was an unusual sight to see a man dressed in a several thousand dollar business suit carrying a twenty dollar bag of dinner.
“You and I have some business to discuss.”
“Hold on, let me get this straight - you tell me to take the day off, rest up, ice my bloodshot cheek only for you to come into my home and say I need to work?”
“Yup,” he claimed unapologetically, squeezing past you to get through.
“Yes, please come in, Your Highness,” you rolled your eyes, though he was already setting up at your dinner table.
“Your home is nice. Why are you always so embarrassed whenever I try to come in?”
“I mean, look at it. It’s nowhere near as nice as your home.”
“It’s as more of a home than my place will ever be, no matter how many velvet cushions and arcade games I ask you to buy for the place.” Minho whipped out two bottles of beer, his favorite chaser to wash down the oiliness of the fried chicken, and poured them into glasses. “How’s your cheek?”
“By the look on your face, I guess not so good?”
He adjusted his twisted expression upon your teasing. Blood and bruises were never his thing, so any variation of the sort just looked bad in general. “It just looks so painful… Have you been icing it like I asked?”
“I have, and it’s not as painful as it looks!”
“Oh, yeah?”
Minho challenged your claim by standing in front of you and lowering his head to see you at eye-level. His face was way too close to be considered appropriate for CEO and Secretary relationship behavior, though you knew he never cared for those formalities. His eyes were always so sparkly per usual and that gave him that dreamy stare all the ladies in the office loved. You never saw the appeal to it until now, with only a few centimetres in between.
He poked your bruised-like-an-apple cheek.
“Ow, what the hell!” you screamed, swatting his hand away.
“Not as painful as it looks, my ass.”
“Well, people don’t go around poking my cheek all day!”
“Do you need pain killers? My doctor can write you a prescription for the best one on and off market.”
“That’s ok, I only trust Dr. Seonghwa.”
Minho gave you the same look he gave a former intern who got his breakfast and coffee order incorrect. Let’s just say the intern started crying on the spot. You, on the other hand, could barely hold in your snicker from his death glare. You were never on the receiving end of the infamous death glare and now that you were, it was hard to take it seriously.
“Ha ha,” Minho fake laughed. “Not funny.”
“What exactly do you have against him, anyways? It’s surprising that you’re threatened by the likes of a doctor and not some other hot shot software company CEO.”
“I don’t have anything against him.”
“You’re such a liar!” you scoffed, taking a swig of the ice-cold beer. “If you didn’t have a problem with him, you wouldn’t have acted so defensive at the charity ball.”
“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he said shamelessly. A vigorous bite of a chicken leg came afterwards. “He looks at you like how I look at chicken legs.”
“Well, maybe I like the way he looks at me.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Stop doing that.”
“You deserve it for acting like my Dad that night.”
“I said I was sorry! I even bought you dinner and cold beer to make up for it!”
“Oh, so this is not because you said that me and you have some business to discuss?”
“Well, that, too.” Minho wiped his greasy fingers on his silk handkerchief that he kept on the inside of his breast pocket before whipping out his phone to show you multiple news articles on the night of the charity ball. “Watch these videos.”
Almost all of them were exposing your boss who was behind the genius that is Iron Man, but what preceded the reveals were clips of you kicking major ass. The sources came from both paparazzi and the security tapes at multiple angles and it was hard to hide the fact that it was you as all angles captured your facial features quite clearly. Headlines and whole articles talked about how the mighty CEO and his secretary were the perfect unstoppable duo and they weren’t wrong - you kicking ass in a sexy outfit with a man of iron handling the big guy? Definitely a story worth selling.
Your brows furrowed worriedly because you had no idea how Minho felt. “Are you mad…?
“Mad?” Minho paused the current video and placed his phone face-down on the table so he could focus on his good chicken and better company. “Why would I be mad?”
“I don’t know! What’s the point in showing me these videos?”
“To show you how bad ass you look! Where did you even learn these moves!?”
“For some reason, your father thought being a secretary was dangerous enough that he decided to enroll me in some classes. I actually really liked it a lot, so I kept at it and I guess I got to a pretty advanced level.”
“Pretty advanced is definitely a misnomer, love. Well, it’s good to hear that Father has made one good decision in his reign.”
“Is this the business you wanted to speak about?” you asked shyly, hoping that the beer was a good enough excuse for your blushing cheeks. You’ll never get used to Minho praising you.
“Sort of. I have a proposition for you.”
“What, that you want me to be your sidekick?” you scoffed. When Minho remained silent with only the same sly smirk on his lips, you could see your worst fears coming true. “Oh, God, you’re not serious.”
“I am one hundred percent serious.”
“Are you out of your damn mind!? I am not sidekick material!”
“You totally are! You and I are already the perfect duo! Why not take it up a notch!?”
“No, Mr. Lee, I cannot be your secretary again, but in a different form and outfit!”
“Why not!? It’s not like I’m not going to pay you for it.”
“The pay is not the problem. The pay is never the problem. It’s…”
How do you put that the pressure of keeping the entire country safe and being by his side twenty-four/seven sounded like your own personal purgatory that you could never escape for as long as you lived, or until you died by the hands of some Demon-level threat monster?
“It’s a huge commitment, I know,” Minho admitted. “Too huge to even put a price on it. But can you at least consider it? I can’t imagine anyone else by my side except you.”
Now only if a man who wasn’t your boss said that to you without any underlying superhero context, you might have considered the proposal.
“Mr. Lee, I can’t…”
You hesitated getting the right words out, but Minho knew why. You’ve been bringing up how you couldn’t stay his secretary forever, and although he knew this was true, he couldn’t help but try to keep you anyways. You’ve been loyal to him for so long that he often forgot how to treat you like a friend and not his subordinate. But the thought of you leaving? Soon, at that? It was something he didn’t want to think about just yet. He wanted to keep you by his side for as long as he could.
Minho downed the last of his beer before whipping out his phone again. This time a slow song played over the speakers. He stood up and offered you a hand.
You raised a brow. “What are you…?”
“You and I never got to dance on Saturday. So dance with me.”
“Here? Right now? In my small ass apartment?”
“The next charity ball isn’t for another month and I don’t think I can wait that long.”
His impatience was just shy of flattering - if only you weren’t so afraid of being within close proximity to him. It was one thing when he helped ease the burn on your hand, it was another when he touched your cheek while inside his iron suit, but the two of you alone dancing in the middle of your living room was a whole other level of intimacy that needed to be hidden from human resources,
You took his hand and he led you to the living room. One hand on your waist and another holding the one with the scabbing half-circle. The two of you swayed in silent contentment for several songs. It was a comfortable silence, but there’s some hidden sadness to it that you couldn’t explain - something along the lines of him missing you dearly, despite you being right in front of him, and you missed him dearly, too. So much that your nerves made you squeeze his hand harder, asking him to not let go of you for a long time.
Then your boss pulled you in close enough that it felt like he was hugging you.
“S-Sir?” you stuttered nervously.
“Thank you,” he began. “For always being there.”
“Well, that’s my job,” you snickered.
“Not just as my secretary, but as my friend.”
“You think of me as your friend?”
“I do. Don’t tell Vice President Chan this, but I consider you one of my closest friends.”
“You’re quite soft, aren’t you?” It took a moment to register that he was definitely not joking. The tension in your shoulders diminished and you were able to relax in front of the equally-vulnerable man. “I consider you one of my closest friends, too.”
“Really?”
“By association though. After all these years being by your side, it’s only natural that I came to like you.”
“I like you, too,” he chuckled, tucking some hairs behind your ear. “A little too much, at that.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“In another lifetime, I feel like you and I would be soulmates.”
“You don’t think we would be in this lifetime?”
Were you hoping to be? “Perhaps. By association though, right?”
You didn’t want to press more about any underlying meaning to his statements, so instead you looked down embarrassed. In another lifetime, in this lifetime, in multiple lifetimes, Minho thought you and him would be each other’s soulmate no matter what, because a lifetime with you sounded perfect.
A thumb gently ran over the perimeter of your cheek bruise and it tickled rather than burned, so that was a good sign that it was healing. A loud tisk came from your boss.
“God, do I really put you through this much pain!?” he cried aloud.
“Huh? You didn’t cause this - those dumbass followers did!”
“I guess, but I was the one who brought you to that event! And what about the scar on your hand, huh? I definitely caused that one.”
“Well, yeah, but -”
“That’s it, I can’t be hurting you like this anymore. I can’t be putting you through all of this danger like you’re my bodyguard. I have to let you go.”
You knew he was joking when he couldn’t hold in his cheeky smile. “That is not probable cause to fire me, Mr. Lee.”
“Really? Dammit.”
“No matter how many times I get hurt, you can’t get rid of me that easily, ok? I go out on my own terms!”
“So strong willed… I almost hate it.” Minho sighed exaggeratedly before pulling you in for a real hug this time. His arms squeezed your waist tightly, letting you know that he didn’t want to let you go even if he tried. “Just make sure to give me a two weeks notice, all right?”
“Anything for you, boss.”
“I’m going to miss hearing that from you the most when you leave.”
You hit his chest lightly, but he caught your hand and held it for a few moments before leading you back to your kitchen to finish up dinner. The rest of the night wasn’t you and your boss - it was you and your closest friend enjoying dinner and some ice cream you had in your freezer.
In another lifetime, huh? Too bad you were stuck in this one.
--
Work has mellowed out in terms of paperwork and actually work and has instead transitioned into more press conferences and meetings with government officials regarding Iron Man. In theory, the meetings sounded cool, but you wouldn’t know for sure, as your boss decided to take one of the newer girls as his assistant for these meetings.
The first time he denied your company, you were only a little confused, but it soon passed when he said there was a lot of paperwork he only trusted you to complete on his behalf. But when he would bring her to every event - whether it was out of habit or on purpose - for an entire month, and her only, it really made your blood boil.
No, you weren’t jealous…! You weren’t jealous he was hanging out with someone younger and prettier and more his type! Definitely not! You were upset that your boss, whom you called one of your closest friends in a time of vulnerability, was already replacing you before you could put your two weeks in! And you knew this to be true when he denied your invitation to get lunch and instead you found him in the cafeteria laughing and flirting with the new girl at the table you and him would always sit at.
For a whole month, without even knowing it, you were slowly getting left behind and replaced for someone better - someone who would actually heed his every word and never argue. Someone who would keep their mouth shut for once. Someone who wouldn’t mind taking order from him forever.
It had been a month since you were living in this limbo, and tonight, the night of the Animal Cruelty Charity Ball to which Iron Man would be making a guest appearance, was when you knew he no longer needed you.
“You’re taking Ryujin…?” you repeated, as you couldn’t believe your ears.
“Yes, so you can go home early if you want,” Minho said as he fixed his bow tie in the giant mirror in his office. He then turned to present to you with an ignorant grin. “How do I look?”
“Why are you taking her?”
“She’s been working hard this past month, so I thought I’d reward her with tonight and have her practice some networking skills.”
“How generous of you,” you mumbled bitterly to yourself.
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”
“Can you help me put on this chain necklace thing? The clasp is so damn tiny…”
Reluctantly, you helped clasp the silver jewelry. While you thought your boss was heavily admiring himself in the mirror, he instead was focused on you and how your face was uncharacteristically stern.
“Are you ok?” he asked sincerely. He pressed a firm hand to your forehead. “Are you sick?”
You harshly swatted his hand away. “I’m fine.”
He shrugged it off, thinking that you probably had a bad week with all of the boring work he’s been having you deal with. A lot of weird and unsettling energy was pent up inside of you for the past month, so before you exited Minho’s office for the weekend, for some reason you thought this was the appropriate time to speak on it.
“Actually, I’m not fine,” you blurted out. Minho gave you his full attention for the first time that month. “I… I’m putting in my two weeks.”
His eyes went wide. “What?”
“I’m giving you my two weeks notice.”
“Do you have a job lined up?”
“No, but I will figure that out later.”
“You don’t have another job lined up but you want to quit? Where is this coming from?”
He didn’t sound angry. He wasn’t - he was more hurt than anything else that you wanted to leave without a proper explanation. He thought you and him were doing well… What changed so suddenly?
“I can’t do this anymore,” Minho noted how your voice was shaking. “I was fine when you had me staying ungodly hours, I was fine when you had me get you coffee every morning and your dry cleaning every Monday, and I was fine when you involved with the Iron Man project, but now all you’ve given me lately is paperwork and shit that the new hires should be doing and not myself!”
“_____, language -”
“And why is that? Why do I feel like I’m starting to get left behind already, or-or why do I feel like you don’t appreciate anything I do!? It’s clear to me that you’ve already begun to replace me, so what’s the use of me staying here when you don’t want me anymore?”
Minho was silent. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad or surprised at your sudden outburst. The tension in the room was suffocating and his silence even more so, like this was his ideal form of psychological torture. Minho didn’t seem to care for your feelings anymore as he turned back to face the mirror.
“Your two weeks has been noted,” was all he said.
You left the room in tears, with your blood still boiling and your heart crushed. But this was a good thing. In the end, this would be a good thing, is what you were trying to tell yourself, because this lifetime wouldn’t let you be with Minho.
--
Another month passed by and you were left in a worse limbo than you began with a month and a half ago. No one was contacting you about any job offers so you were left to ‘self-reflect’ or some bullshit this self-help book told you to do for the past two weeks. Luckily, all the overtime you put into your savings account had vastly accumulated into an unthinkable sum that would support you far beyond whatever the government noted as a proper unemployment time. Like, you didn’t even know what to do with the money sometimes - thank Minho for time-and-a-half, huh?
On days where you couldn’t help yourself - when you felt like torturing yourself - you would look up Minho on all the tabloid sites. Surprisingly enough, this happened way more than you’d like. Of course, as you speculated, Ryujin had quickly taken your spot as his secretary and God, did you like to shit on how terrible she was! You didn’t have to be at the office to know that Minho must be frustrated with her by the crookedness of his ties and jackets and how she must have forgotten to schedule a salon appointment by the look of his roots and unruly brows.
Ha! That’s what he fucking gets for not being grateful! That dick!
What a shame your relationship with him had come to. To spend what felt like an entire lifetime with him to being complete strangers, it was like you were reborn into this new and fresh carefree person. So carefree that you hummed on the way home with a bag full of fresh produce from the local market.
Perhaps you should have been less carefree, as a stranger snuck up behind you and knocked you out cold.
--
“Ryujin, where’s my document-signing pen?”
“Um, in your drawer?”
“Which drawer?”
“The one with all the other pens…?”
Minho sighed loudly, running a hand through his curly locks and staring intently at the mess of papers that scattered on his desk. His desk hadn’t been this messy since the first day he started when he had to sign all of those official documents that transitioned him to CEO. The same day when he fell for you.
Ryujin, who was nothing close to a secretary compared to you, was only getting on his nerves these days. Perhaps yes, he’s been a little too harsh on someone who’s still fairly new, but in truth he just didn’t have a way to express his frustration about you leaving all of a sudden. Where had he gone wrong?
“Take the rest of the night off,” he told his subordinate.
The poor girl bowed obediently and scurried out the room.
Another sign left the young man’s lips. This time it was because he was tired. He couldn’t deal with anymore bullshit tonight.
An anonymous FaceTime call rang his phone. Who could be wanting to FaceTime him at such an odd hour of the weeknight?
When he swiped to answer, all he saw was you tied up roughly to a splintered chair with tape covering your mouth. Minho nearly dropped his phone.
“Good evening, Mr. Lee,” a familiar voice sang. From the shadows behind you emerged the fake vigilante that led the invasion of the Charity Ball. “I see that you’re doing well.”
“What do you want?” he demanded quietly.
“I think you know what I want.” A shiny knife drew a line across the other cheek, small drops of blood seeping through and mixing with the dried tears and dirt. Minho’s heart felt like it was collapsing. “A blank check addressed to little ol’ me.”
“If I see another scar on them, I’ll kill you,” he threatened.
The man held his hands up high in defensive mode and took a step away from you. “Fine, I won’t touch them! Just give me what we want near the docks.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Oh, and one more thing - come dressed in Iron Man and I’ll slice their throat. Bye!”
The line cut dead and Minho had no choice but to leave empty-handed with only a blank check in his pocket.
The air inside the enclosed cargo bed was hot and suffocating and your rising panic did not ease your pain or heavy breathing one bit. It didn’t help that the guy and his minions were playing with your hair and playing with their knives, dragging the dull edges on your arms and neck. Normally, you wouldn’t be so weak and crying to the point that the tape around your mouth was loosening up, but life these days was tough and perhaps an event like this, causing Minho major inconvenience once again, was what you deserved.
Scurrying and uneven footsteps were heard from outside and you really, really hoped it was Minho not dressed in Iron Man.
“Here already? He must like you,” the leader teased.
The back of the cargo bed opened up to reveal that the sun had fallen a long time ago and the light of the moon outlined your plain and simple hero. He didn’t give the leader a second passing glance before blindly shoving the blank check to his chest and rushing by your side to untie you. First, he ripped off the tape and you let out loud gasps of air and cries.
Minho’s shaking hands take hold of your face to try to calm you down. “Hey hey, shh, I’m here. Are you ok? Are you hurt?” You shook your head vigorously, whining and trying to break free from the ropes tying you down. “Hold on, I got you.”
Before Minho could untie your hands, one of the minions hit him on the back of his head the same way they knocked you out. But your boss was stronger than that - his head was harder than his iron helmet. At the failed attempt, Minho hurled the guy over his shoulder and out the cargo bed. Your bad ass boss got up like it was nothing, but he was breathing heavily.
Not because he was tired or weak, but because he was furious.
Three more guys tried to kick his ass and it was then you realized that your boss wasn’t just some fake hiding behind an iron suit who could program it to fight. He truly was kicking their ass! Like, raw strength and all! If you weren’t scared to death, you might have thought this was kind of hot. But then Minho punched one of the guys too hard and it sent him flying over to you, to which you fell over and broke the chair. The rope was no longer tied to anything and you were free.
Yet another one of the lame-o sidekicks tried to capture you again, but now you were equally as furious, if not more, than your partner in crime. How dare they sneak up on you and not even give you a chance to fight back!? That was the definition of a weak-ass group of villains! So of course you had to show them a lesson and kick a few balls and some asses. But the number of asses was infinite and you were getting really tired. They had enough people to fight you and Minho until you couldn’t keep up and then they’d kill you easily.
“Mr. Lee, now would be a good time for one of your brilliant plans!” you begged between kicks and breaths.
“Ten seconds tops. But when I say so, I need you to hold my hand, ok?”
“What!? What are you planning!?”
“Just trust me!” You and Minho saw the leader direct the last ten of his minions to finish the job. “Ready? Three… two… one!”
A heavy force on the outside pushed the cargo bed off the edge of the pier and into the ocean with the purpose of drowning everyone in it. The only sensation you felt was ice cold water freezing your blood flow and Minho grasping your hand for dear life while trying to swim up to the surface. Before blacking out from lack of oxygen, you felt the ripples of something entering the ocean and saw a faded red and golden glow of light. Not a second later, a hollowed Iron Man on autopilot rushed you and Minho to the surface and placed you gently on the sand just under the pier. The silent night was filled with a chorus of ugly coughing fits from you and your boss. What a wonderful CEO slash ex-secretary couples activity this turned out to be.
As soon as your breathing returned to a rhythmic beat, a wet, crying, sand-covered Minho held your face in his still-trembling hands. He didn’t say a word - he simply held you and pressed his forehead to yours, making sure that yes, this was real, and not some unconscious dream where he was still in the middle of the ocean drowning. Yes, you were there with him and you were alive.
“Why are you crying? I was the one kidnapped,” you joked, hoping it’d lighten up the mood if but a little bit.
Minho laughed between sniffles and shivers, but couldn’t stop crying. He was smiling, but still crying, and if that didn’t perfectly depict this situation, you’re not sure there’s anything out there that did. Haphazardly, he planted a cold kiss on your forehead before pulling you into a hug.
“I’m so happy you’re ok,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Why? You had nothing to do with this.”
“I’m just sorry in general. I’m sorry I took you for granted. I’m sorry for making you feel like I was replacing you. I’m sorry for not buying you that cappuccino three years ago. I’m sorry for -”
What’s the only way to silence your sexy boss in a heartfelt moment like this that would complete this superhero plot line? Kissing him mid-sentence, of course. You kissed your loving boss fully, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your whole body into it. It took him a while to register that yes, his secretary was definitely kissing him, but once it did, he kissed you even harder, enough to make you fall back onto the grass with him on top of you.
You’re left breathless the moment your lips parted. “I-I, uh, I forgive you…”
“How could you ever think that I could replace you?” he muttered. “I could never. Not in this lifetime.”
“You also said that me and you wouldn’t happen in this lifetime,” you challenged.
“Lifetimes can merge into one, I guess.”
Iron Man returned to Minho’s basement as soon as his job was done, so your favorite driver picked you two up in ten minutes with plush hot towels and dry clothes to change into. The pajamas you wore already had your initials monogrammed over your heart.
“Yeah, uh, about that,” Minho began awkwardly on the car ride home. “I was going to gift them to you a couple Christmases ago, but you said that monogrammed clothing was cheesy and stupid, so I abstained…”
“... They’re not so bad,” you admitted truthfully. “Very soft.”
Coming home to Minho’s felt so wrong, yet so right. You’ve only ever been inside for business reasons, such as redesigning his closets and kitchen pantry, but now that you were here on leisure - well, after almost fucking dying - it was kind of weird. But Minho holding your hand reassured you that you were wanted here - that he needed you here, damp with salt water and all.
“Take a shower upstairs. I’ll go make some tea.”
You gladly obeyed, using your favorite shower that you helped design. The door and the walls of the shower were made of glass and the shower head hung from the ceiling, making your long, hot shower feel like it was raining. Your body was covered in cuts and bruises and it was really ugly, but you’ve never felt more badass and in control in your entire life.
You left the shower smelling like orchids and eucalyptus and entered the kitchen that smelled like ginger and honey. Minho, who had also showered, followed shortly after, stealing a kiss on your cheek that was cut up earlier that evening.
You followed Minho to his giant marble island while he poured tea into white mugs on the other side. This felt so… domestic. This felt so right. This felt like home.
“I have a business proposition for you,” he smirked slyly.
Well, that ruined the moment. “What, no ‘how have you been the past month since I replaced you with some other chick’?”
“I promise I’ll ask that after, but I need to ask you this.” Your hard-headed boss was all giddy just at the idea of it and it was the first time in a whole month since you’ve seen him smile like this. He was so, so cute.
“Fine, what is it?”
“I want to hire you back.”
“Mr. Lee, I already told you, I can’t -”
“As the Head Director of the Iron Man project.”
Your eyes widened at the prestigious title. “Head Director?”
“You stayed by my side through all the criticism and the praise and I can’t imagine a better person for the position.”
“So it’s not just a fancy title for like, super mega ultra secretary, right…?”
Your handsome man chuckled. “No, I promise.”
“Head Director, huh?” your lips slowly spread into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”
“Is that a yes?”
“On a few conditions.”
“Hit me.”
“Higher pay with time-and-a-half.”
“Obviously.”
“I get my own secretary.”
“Only if you don’t fall in love with them like I did.”
You rolled your eyes and continued. “An extra week of vacation.”
“You’re pushing it.”
“Last one. I’m your date to every event from now on.”
Minho raised his eyebrow teasingly. “Oh? And if I say no?”
“Then I say no.”
“Jeez, I’m kidding! So strict. Of course you can, on two conditions.”
“Fine.”
“You call me Minho from now on. Or boyfriend, or soulmate, or sexiest man alive, or whatever suits your fancy.”
“Deal.”
“Second,” Minho leaned in and puckered his pink lips. “Seal this with a kiss.”
You start your new job next week - after Minho cashed in one week of vacation to spend with his soulmate.
616 notes · View notes
diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
🚨Warnings: Light p in v smut. Some angst. Lots of fluff. My grandfather’s name really is in the Smithsonian.🚨
Plain Gold Ring V:
Exactly Like You
“I know why I waited
Know why I've been blue
I've been waiting each day
For someone exactly like you” - Nina Simone
——————————————————————
Your last day in D.C. felt like the last day of your life. This life. Every article of clothing was packed. Every knickknack and tchotchke sent with the movers. You were ready for your next life. Did your next life include Andy?
The weather was beautiful. Sunny. Not too hot. You and Andy had planned on spending it outside seeing the sites. He had never toured any of the museums. You invited Jacob along. The second you said it you wished you hadn’t. You felt like a home wrecker even though Andy promised Jacob wouldn’t see you that way.
Andy was bristling with excitement. “He’s going to love you, baby.” You were not great with kids. You actively chose not to have them. You loved your nieces from a distance when they were little. Now that they are teenagers you feel a little more at ease with them. You are their cool rich aunt who spends an absolutely outrageous amount of money on them when you visit. You nearly fainted when Andy asked if you’d like to have children.
“Aren’t I too old for that?”
“You’re only three years younger than me. I know a lot of women who had their career before they had a family.” Your face snapped from terrified to anger real quick, “Not that you can’t have a career and be a mother. People do it everyday. Shut up, Andy.”
“You’re cute when you’re nervous. Have you thought of having children with me?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, yeah. I’d like to have a couple more.”
“Oh. A couple he says.” You could feel the hives forming. “This seems like a good conversation to have right before I leave.”
He ran his hands up and down your arms. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to pressure you. You haven’t thought about it? Not even a little?” The door buzzed in the nick of time.
“Jacob’s here! Hallelujah!” You wiggled out of his arms to grab your shoes.
He laughed shaking his head. “We’ll finish this conversation later, young lady.” he pressed the intercom button, “Hey come on up, buddy. This is going to be great, honey.” He loved your nervous laugh and the way you fidgeted with your fingers. Just the fact that you were nervous told him you would love his son.
You heard voices coming from the living area. Fucking hell. Was that Lori? You contemplated going out of the window. You went into the bathroom to grab some lip balm. You knew full well that it was in your bag on the kitchen island. You were just staying out of their way. When you heard the front door close you reemerged.
“Ready to go?” Your eyes were wide and you were way too smiley. If Andy didn’t know better he would think you were on drugs.
“Yeah. I think no more coffee for you ok?”
“It’s nice to see you again, Miss Y/N.” Jacob extended his hand.
“Nice to see you too. So! The Smithsonian. What part are you most interested in seeing?”
“Air and space I think.”
“Then that’s where we’ll start. My grandfather’s name is actually on a plaque. I’ll show you. He was in the navy and built planes that were used in Korea I think. And my dad’s picture is there. He works for a division of NASA back in Louisiana where I’m from. He developed this little part of the rocket booster. He’s literally a rocket scientist.”
“That’s really cool. I’d love to meet him sometime…..”
Andy was loving every second of this. You and Jacob really got along. You were making plans to visit your father and stepmother over the summer and maybe hit the beach in Florida. Jacob’s face lit up at the prospect of meeting your family. Both Andy and Lori were only children. Jacob didn’t grow up with cousins or really any kids his own age outside of school. He seemed pretty comfortable with the idea of you and Andy together.
Andy tested the waters a little by holding your hand. Jacob didn’t seem to notice. By the time you got to the next part of the museum he had his arms around your waist. He even kissed you a couple of times. Nothing but a tender peck here and there. Jacob didn’t seem to mind when he showed you affection.
After lunch Andy dropped you off and then ran Jacob back home.
“So, what are you thinking?” Andy asked with nervous trepidation.
“The museum was cool. I really liked the rockets. It’s cool that Y/N’s dad made those.”
“Did you like Y/N?”
“Yeah. Sucks she’s moving. Do you think you’ll move to Chicago too?”
“Kind of depends on you, bud. I know you’re getting older and you don’t need Dad around very much anymore. I don’t want to miss anything. You’re my only baby.”
“I could spend summers with you. You look really happy. I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time. Even before the trial. I’d miss you but you should be happy.”
The whole way inside Jacob talked about you. He clammed up when Lori walked in.
“Hey, guys. Did you have a good time?” She kissed Jacob on the forehead.
“We had a great time. Ok, Jake. You have the number where I’ll be. I’ll be back on Wednesday. If you’re not busy next weekend you can spend the night. I have your room all set up. Love you.”
“Ok. Love you. Have a safe flight. Tell Y/N I said bye.” He escaped to his room before the arguing started.
“If it’s ok I’ll pick him up from school Thursday. Did you sign the papers?”
“She went with you?” Her voice was deadly quiet.
“She did.”
“Didn’t want to tell me that before hand I guess.”
He sighed and wiped his face with his hands, “I’ll have him back Sunday night. See you later.”
“Fuck you, Andy. You can’t even give me the courtesy of telling me my son would be meeting his father’s whore!”
He slammed his fist on the counter, “Did you sign the papers or not?” She threw the manilla envelope at him.
“They’re signed.” He took the papers and walked out slamming the door. He contemplated moving again. He has a month to month lease on his place. It wouldn’t be hard for him to find a job. He knew Jacob would be fine. Chicago was looking better and better. After all the baby talk this morning he wouldn’t burden you with anything else domestic for today.
——————————————————————
You were zipping your last suitcase when you heard Andy come in. You packed all of your sleep clothes so you were wearing Andy’s t-shirt and panties. Dinner was ordered and he had a drink waiting on the counter. He called out for you. When you rounded the corner into the living room he caught you in his arms.
“Hey, handsome.” you cooed in his ear. He nuzzled your neck and stroked your back. “You ok? Was Jacob….he hates me. I knew it.”
He tightened his hold on you, “Honey, he loved you. He talked about you the whole way back.”
“Then why is your face all worried?”
“Because I’m keenly aware that this is our last night together in my place. That when I come home Wednesday you won’t be here. I’ll go to work on Thursday and Jeremy will be in your office. I have really good memories in that office and now they’re ruined. I don’t want to wake up without you.”
His hands traveled up your bare back then back down to cup your ass. “The delivery app says they’re going to be here in twenty minutes. Think you can finish in time?”
He lowered his head between your breasts and nodded yes. Before you knew it your panties were off, his pants were down and he was fucking you against the wall. His pace was relentless. You hooked your ankles at the small of his back and leaned back so you could rub your clit. Your fingertips brushed against his dick every time he pumped in and out of your cunt. You both came in fifteen minutes.
You ate dinner on the veranda loving the cool breeze on your bare skin. As much as he wanted his t-shirt to smell like you, he like naked picnics way more. Admittedly, a big chicken Caesar salad wasn’t the sexiest food in the world. Still didn’t stop him from licking dressing off of your chest when it dropped off your fork. He was determined to fuck you in almost every room in this place.
You slept tangled and sticking together all night. You had finally gotten over your need for bed space. You’d miss it when he wasn’t there. All night the two of you wanted to bring up moving in together. Neither of you had the guts to say it. You didn’t want to beat a dead horse. He didn’t want to freak you out. Good thing you’d be long distance for a while to work on your communication skills.
——————————————————————
Your new place was beautiful. You rented a big new condo close to Millennial Park. Your office was on Michigan Ave so you weren’t far from there thought walking was highly discouraged. It wouldn’t be possible in heels anyway.
You and Andy worked diligently unpacking and cleaning. When the last box was unpacked and broken down you both collapsed on the couch. “I feel disgusting.”
“You have that nice big bathtub. Bet we can both fit.” He raised an eyebrow at you and nudged your side.
“You are insatiable, Mr. Barber. Whatever will I do without you?”
“You’ll bust from horniness. Come on.” He hoisted you up from your comfy spot and pulled you into the bathroom. While he undressed you filled the water with soft musky oils and some bubble bath. You lit candles and eased in to relax. He washed your hair massaging your scalp with his fingertips. He held you in the warmth until your fingers and toes were pruned.
For the rest of the week, if you were sitting it was on Andy’s lap. If you were sleeping it was in his arms. By Tuesday morning, you had both finished up conference calls and responding to emails. You had cleared the rest of your day to spend together.
As the sunlight dwindled it had become harder and harder to part. You couldn’t take it anymore. You had to have the conversation you had been dreading since you stepped off the plane.
“Andy, I don’t want to sound like a nagging girlfriend but, I really want you to move in with me. I know it would be so hard leaving Jacob but I have plenty of room. He can spend every summer here if he wants. I’d love to have him. I feel really strongly that this is leading somewhere. I’ll even talk about babies if you want.”
His heart was bursting. You kept rambling on trying to convince him. Little did you know he was already convinced. “Stan is going to kill you.” He laughed and pulled you onto his lap. “Give me a few weeks to wrap up everything.”
When you dropped him at the airport there were tears but you knew you’d see him soon. “I love you, baby. I’ll call you as soon as I land.” He kissed you like he would never get to do it again.
“I love you too. See you soon.” He smiled through his tears.
“See you soon.”
——————————————————————
That weekend he spent all of his time with Jacob. He planned on spending every moment he could with his son. Jacob even had his first few weeks planned starting with meeting your family in Louisiana.
When he brought Jacob home on Sunday he worked up the courage to tell Lori the news. “Do you have all of your stuff for your English assignment? If not I can bring it by before school tomorrow.”
“I got it, dad. I had fun this weekend.” They hugged. He smelled Jacob’s hair and kissed him.
“Love you. Be good for mom.”
“Love you too!”
Lori stood in the doorway with her arms folded protectively over her chest. “So she’s gone?”
“Yep.”
“So what now? What does this mean for you?”
He pulled out the kitchen chair and rested his head in this hands. “This wasn’t a fling, Lori. I’m moving to Chicago. Jacob is real excited about spending summers with us.”
“Do you love her?” Tears shimmered in her eyes and her voice wavered. It would be cruel to lie to her.
“Very much.” It stung to hear. With nothing left to say Andy stood to leave.
“Andy!” she called after him. When he turned she wrapped him in a hug. The two of them embraced for several minutes.
When he stepped onto the sidewalk outside of the building his phone buzzed in his pocket. He saw your face smiling back at him.
“Hey, baby. How was your day?” He looked up at your old window and thought of how the two of you started, the past he left behind and smiled at the sound of his future on the other end of the line.
59 notes · View notes
goddessofmischief · 4 years ago
Text
Noah, Part Six - Peter Maximoff x Reader
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5
...
When you were kids, you and Peter had lived under the same roof for almost five years.
And this was the longest he had ever gone without talking to you.
It was absolutely...
Unnatural.
You knew he’d interrogated Noah - something you wanted to be mad about, but just couldn’t be.
Peter deserved answers, and you felt guilty for not giving them to him. Especially after you'd seen the way he looked at you, the night you went out to dinner with Alex.
The night you explained everything.
But if Peter was allowed to grill your son...
Well, couldn't you?
“Hey, Noah,” you said, crouching down beside your son. “I know you’ve kinda... noticed, that things have been a little different.”
“What,” said Noah, in his soft, lispy voice. “What, that you and Daddy aren’t together anymore?”
Your eyes widened, and you released him, feeling as if you’d been burned.
“Daddy? Why’d you.. why would you call him that?”
He shrugged. It was the saddest thing you’d ever seen.
“I don’t know. He's around all the time and he teaches me things...”
“Well, so do I!”
“You protect me, Mommy. You protect me, an’... an’ you fight the bad people. It’s different.”
Noah sounded so sure. You wished you could be as certain as he was.
“What about Alex, huh?” you asked, smoothing his hair down. “Did you like him? He was cool, right?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
You huffed.
“Can I see Da-”
“Peter,” you corrected, forcefully.
“Can I go see Peter now? He’s s’posed to teach me today -- how to play tennis by myself.” “Don’t you want to spend the afternoon together, love? We could... we could read. You like that... don't you?”
Noah shrugged again.
“I guess so. I don’t really have to learn it, anyway. Peter says as long as he’s around, I’ll never have to play by myself.”
Your eyes welled up with tears.
“Well,” you managed, “I guess... I guess you’d better go.”
“Will you be okay?”
“Yeah, ‘Oah. I’ll be fine. I’ll just... stay in.”
“Sure you don’t want to come?” asked Noah.
You shook your head. He leaned in, whispering in your ear, as if he was going to tell you a secret.
“B’cause... Peter said he misses you.”
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t smile.
...
Okay...
So Peter Maximoff was kind of an incredible tennis instructor.
And surprisingly patient, in a way he never had been with you.
“Okay, buddy - that was great, but just a little to the left - oh,” he muttered, noticing you. “Hey, Y/N.”
You gave him a half-hearted wave.
“Peter,” said Noah, seriously, “You promised we could do some racing.”
“I know, buddy, but... it’s kinda windy today. It’s not the best conditions.”
Noah crossed his arms, pouting.
“Okay,” said Peter, giving in. “Alright... meet you back here?”
“Meet you,” agreed Noah, taking off.
Several moments passed. You couldn’t see either of them, but... suddenly, you felt a sharp burst of pain in Noah’s mind.
Within moments, Peter reappeared speeding out of the woods, carrying your son.
“The dummy broke his arm,” said Peter.
...
“He’ll be okay,” said Peter, attempting to comfort you. “S’ not so bad. One of the disadvantages of our powers are... you break a lot of stuff. Often limbs.”
You smiled, slightly.
“I know. He’s a tough kid. But I’m gonna wait up with him, anyway. As a kid, when I was sick, or hurt... I needed a lot of attention.”
“Oh, I remember,” Peter chuckled. “We thought you were dying.”
“Wow.”
“Well, you were kinda dramatic.”
“Oh, like you weren’t, at that age.”
He shrugged.
“That’s, uh... that’s fair. Listen... if you’re staying with Noah tonight... you want me to stay?”
“Why?” you asked, bluntly.
Peter shrugged, again.
“I don’t want you to be alone.”
Hesitantly, you allowed Peter to sit down on the couch, beside you, tucking your head into his shoulder.
When you woke in the morning, he was gone.
...
You knew it was time to go.
Xavier had taught Noah enough to control his powers, you reasoned. Sure, it wasn’t exactly what you'd hoped for - but he wasn't a full fledged X-Man yet, after all. He had time.
And, most importantly, you had fulfilled your duty as a mother.
You had ensured that Noah was safe.
Sure, you wouldn’t be able to pursue learning your own skills - but did that really matter?
A nagging voice in your head (probably Jean) told you that it did.
It also told you that you were running away from your problems, like you always had.
And also that you should brush your teeth.
“I don’t understand, Mom,” said Noah, reluctantly taking your hand. “Why do we have to go?”
“Because we’re done, love. We accomplished... what we came here to do. It’s time to go back to the real world. We can’t hide here forever.”
He nodded, slowly, and you hoped he understood.
“...Is Peter coming?”
You threw Noah’s suitcase in the trunk of your car with a thunk.
"No,” you said, quietly. “No, he’s... he’s not.”
Noah’s face went blank.
“What? Mom, we can’t-”
“That’s all, Noah. I’ve made up my mind.”
You helped him into his car-seat and climbed into the front, taking one last look at the Mansion before driving away.
Quietly, Noah began to hum something.
“That’s pretty,” you mused, softly. “What is it?”
“A song Peter taught me. He said it was your song.”
You swallowed.
Noah began to sing.
“If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do... is to save every day, till eternity passes away... just to spend ‘em with you...”
Oh, no fair.
Peter was playing dirty.
“But there never seems to be enough time... to do the things you wanna do, once you find ‘em... I’ve looked around enough to know, that you’re the one I want to go through time with...”
Turn back, your brain was screaming. Turn back, turn back, turn back-
A car pulled up alongside you.
And it was Peter’s head that hung from the window, a megaphone pressed to his lips.
“Pull over!”
“What?!”
He almost ran you off the road.
“Pull over!”
"Mom?” asked Noah, in an eerily calm voice. “Are we gonna die?”
“No, love,” you said, decisively, pulling the car over. “No, I’m just gonna kill Peter, that’s all.”
“Y/N, I have to talk to you-”
“Are you crazy!” you yelled, slamming the door behind you. “Who drives like that? Are you-”
“Listen to me!” Peter shouted, jumping out of his car.
“I love you! And I don’t care that Noah’s not my son, okay? I’ll raise a hundred children, Y/N. With a hundred of your boyfriends, if it means I can be with you.”
Your eyes welled up with tears.
“...Can you put that down?”
“THIS EXPRESSES HOW LOUDLY I LOVE YOU!”
“It’s too loud,” you whispered, trying not to smile.
He knelt down, opening up a small, metal box.
“This is the Hope diamond,” Peter said, seriously, “And I stole it. But Xavier told me that it’s worth kind of a lot, and I don’t know if that means anything... but I thought it looked kinda cool, and I wanted you to have it-”
“Okay,” you agreed, quickly. “Okay, yes, yes, I will!”
You threw your arms around Peter’s neck and kissed him, deeply.
“I love you!” you shouted, feeling every emotion cross over you at once.
“I love you!” he shouted back, so happy he could barely breathe.
“And... I lied to you.”
“What?”
“Noah’s your son.”
Peter's express went blank.
“What? Why would you say-”
“I just needed you to want to marry me... because you wanted to marry me.”
He stumbled back, looking dazed - and for a moment, you were afraid you’d lost him.
“Get out!” Peter shouted, suddenly, absolutely screaming with happiness. “I’m a dad!”
“You’re a dad!”
This time, it was Peter that threw his arms around you, and you reciprocated.
...
Hey guys! Just a reminder, the story doesn’t end here.
I’m gonna continue to write in the ‘Noah’ timeline, but you can find the whole series under the title ‘All and Then Most Of You’ in my masterlist.
I plan to cover Peter and reader’s time at Xavier’s, and of course, their life as a family!
Many of these fics will be standalones that fit with the overall series
 If you have any ideas for the series, or adventures that Peter, Noah and Reader should go on, please send ‘em in!
Also, credit to the Office. As I mentioned in the first chapter, I borrowed some of the dialogue for this chapter from one of the last episodes.
...
Taglist:
@fangirl593-at-221b @amourtentiaa @that-random-nerdy-person @no-mercy-bby
106 notes · View notes