#(but its cool as fuck so i am NEVER getting rid of that no matter how much growth he experiences)

[deivorous]

heres a pointed psychoanalysis of grimm courtesy of my friend

[frostbitepandaaaaa]

Answer the Questions and Tag 5 Fanfic Authors

thanks for the tag @andorerso and @quarantineddreamer

1. How did you get into writing fanfiction?

weirdly enough.... exactly like B-- i was a young, weird little girl who wanted to live in Brian Jaques' world of Redwall so i wrote little stories of my own in that universe. shit, i could not have been older than 9 or 10. it just kind of sprouted from there.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

published fics? six. (x files, game of thrones, mad max: fury road, star wars/rogue one/andor, avatar the last airbender, harry potter) unpublished? maybe three or four more than that.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

when i started publishing fanfic... oh my god it's been like 19/20 years now.

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

write. i go through phases, of course, but i am such a picky bitch. my phases usually end up like this:

step one) i read everything there is to read based on a certain niche trope that i am in the mood for at the time.

step two) wow! that was great. what a feast!

step three) ...okay i'm still hungry and these fics didn't quite scratch this very, very niche itch i have so--

step four) *chuckles* i'm in danger.

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

i feel like i've gotten a lot better at plotting and pacing. it's weird, because i never felt like that was really an issue for me before, but i've realized that until i started writing for rebelcaptain, i was heavily a 'vibes-based' writer. which i feel that i still am in many ways, but with rebelcaptain i am going back and resequencing, cutting/adding/shortening and deleting way more than i have in the past in order to maintain tension and pacing better. wether or not these things are actually improved is another matter altogether, but i feel like they are. (and is a big reason why all of my multi-chapters take forever........ sorry about that. it's me slicing and dicing my drafts). the world building aspect of Star Wars is also really cool-- wanna a certain setting? just fucking make it up! no one cares. and as a setting slut, i love this for me. <3

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

australian cattle stations.

7. What’s your favorite type of comment to receive on your work?

i don't discriminate, but the comments that compare me to other works/creators (i've gotten Bronte, Justified, the Coen Brothers and others). those both make me so happy and so mad because how???? no way. not me. @justwandering-neverlost also left my favorite comment ever, before we were friends-- that i inspired her to be a better writer. and now look at us! she can't get rid of me! bet she regrets that. <3

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

me and my western/small/rundown town settings. you can pry that shit from my cold, dead hands. also... storms.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

modern aus honestly. i start one in order to give myself reprieve from angst and plot and shit and all of a sudden i am having hours-long breakdowns about how this character would fit into this setting and how this character would react to this this thing in this time and all of a sudden the fluffy little modern au has grown 5000 legs and now is a hydratic millipede of hellish proportions that i have to methodically find a way to domesticate without cutting off more legs because two more grow in its place and--

10. What is the easiest type?

you want angst? pining? idiots in love? i got you.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

i write anywhere-- on my phone in my car in between appointments at work. at my desk at home. on my couch. in the bar. in my bed. on the patio. i use ulysses. i love the formatting options and just the simple UI in general. it allows you to be as organized or unorganized as you want (very unorganized in my case). as to what time... i'm trying to get better about only finding writing strides at like... 11PM on Tuesdays but alas.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

any historical au. i would love to do one cause i love research and world building and all that but... uh... see my complaints about modern aus above and you can see why i have avoided those. it's one of those 'i've never tried [insert addictive drug here] because i know that i would like it too much and it would ruin my life' sort of situations

13. What made you choose your username?

i was like 8 or 9 years old and wanted to get into a Harry Potter chatroom and everything i picked was 'already taken'. cue me just smashing two words together and never really looking back.

no pressure tags: @justwandering-neverlost @chipthekeeper @luciechat @fulcrumstardust @incognitajones

[youngandvain]

today i binged for the last time

i binged today. it wasn't pretty - it never is - but it holds a certain importance. it was the last time i have ever binged.

i was was violently throwing up, again and again, at work, and neglecting my work because of it, i felt a wave of despair crash over me like never before. i was so bloated that i had to unzip my pants and put a sweater over it so no one would see and it hurt like hell. and i went back for more. again, and again.

it was the last time i've ever binged. mark my words.

i have made this empty promise to myself a million times but today, i am clear about it. today, i believe it. i know it's true. because i am finally, finally at the point where i can truthfully say - i never want to binge again. i never want to eat food that makes me binge again. i would rather give up all my favourite foods than be this powerless over my own life ever again. i no longer want to be tortured by this constant brain fog, these persistent jabs at my sanity of constantly thinking about food, fighting with myself, bargaining, arguing. it has controlled me, has been the focus of my life for far too long, the reason for so much hatred, so much despair. and no matter what method or diet or routine i've tried, this mental poison of obsession with food would always seep through, and even if i could rid myself of it for a few hours, it would come back. i can not love myself like this. i can not enjoy my life like this. every day it goes on, it goes on because i let it. every day passed is one i will never get back.

so i won't binge again. i will quit all sweets, especially chocolate. i will not have cookie dough or chocolate donuts or nutella even though it tastes divine. because i refuse to be defeated.

maybe some day in a faraway future, i will have those foods again. but i am not anxious for that day to come. if it never does, then i have not lost anything. i am not giving up chocolate because i must, but because i want to. and if i wanted to, i could eat it at any time - there is no one stopping me. but i don't want to. and that's why i'm no longer eating it.

because there is nothing to be gained from it. those foods are tasty, but that's it. i know how they taste. i know how it feels to eat them. and it has not made a difference to my life whether i have eaten them ten or fifty or three thousand times. they don't taste good because they are good for me - they taste good because they are heartlessly engineered to do so.

i always stuck to the idea that loving these foods was somehow integral to my identity - how pathetic. my identity is not bound to industrially mass-produced junk that only tastes good because it was designed to turn me into a mindlessly hooked costumer. the only reason i would think that is because of how eerily brilliant this industry is at getting me addicted. and whenever i reasoned that i couldn't "quit" nutella because loving it was such a big part of who i was, both to myself and the outside world, in that moment, the reflection i saw of myself was one i silently cringed at.

at least smoking looks (a little) cool (sometimes). at least drinking makes me feel more deeply and more poetically than i often do sober. and thank fuck i am not addicted to either. i can say this confidently because neither substance, while i do love both to varying extents, holds the power over me - has me sweating and wretching so tightly in its grip every single day - as food does. and that is why i allow myself to enjoy and indulge in these, every now and then - because i actually can.

but binging doesn't make me feel more deeply, or know myself better, or even look cool. there is no part of it that i want to identify with and every time i do identify with my love for some food, i look down on myself.

no more.

i know that quitting won't be easy. i know that i will struggle and my mind will nag me and tell me to eat and make exceptions and come up with all the great reasons why i should eat this or that, and most importantly, in excess.

but i know the voice of the addiction. it sounds a lot like my own but deep inside i know the difference. i can tell when i'm eating to nourish my body, i can tell when i should stop, and i can tell when i shouldn't even start.

and when the voice that wants to binge starts yelling and screaming i will know that this is the battle, the real battle, and the louder it gets the closer i am to winning. it will almost be triumphant to feel those urges, because they give me something to fight. and it's a fight i know i will win.

it will be tough - i know it will. but i'm tougher. what i lacked before was the genuine will and conviction to let go of the eating i've always known. i kept thinking i would somehow miss it. that it would somehow negatively impact my life to never have one of those amazing donuts with bueno cream and chocolate and raspberries again. but it won't. i know how they taste and i am not losing anything by not eating them - there are other indulgences far more worth it, there are foods that taste fantastic and actually nourish my body, and my social relationships do not, have never and will never depend on my eagerness to eat junk.

i will replace the binges with appreciation, love and care. i will eat not to numb and hurt myself through excess but to nourish my body and mind. instead of stuffing myself with everything i can find right out of the package, standing half naked in front of the fridge at night, i will revel in preparing meals for myself and others because cooking is an art form that involves all senses, and instead of eating as fast as i can and trying to hide and getting upset whenever someone threatens to keep me from it, i will eat mindfully and slowly and with genuine interest in my food and my self.

i will never binge again. not once. and i know that i can do it. i know that i will. because i am in control of this and i will not be overpowered by something as mundane as food.

not today, not tomorrow. never.

[alternateanonymous]

lol, why do i have to wait? 6:48 pm

why do i have to wait to get respect and the time i want from you. Everytime you don't text me back or when you go tyo hang out with someone else when you are hanging out with me i make an excuse that its ok beause one day when we are married you will give me that respect and time. But i don't wanna wait for that and i shouldn't have to. I don't like ethan, i don't respect him anymore and im sorry but my viewpoint of all of those people in that group was severely altered recently so i would appreciate it if you didn't talk about them to me and expect me to agree or be ok with it. I wil be civil because frankly i don't care enough to put up a huge issue about them because they are no longer worth my time and I know that they just go around dissiing my name. Look at that, another member in the maggie gardner hate club lol. I don't give a fuck tho, lots of people have shit like that about them and unforunatley those people happen to be in mine. So please, I am trying to put myself together and find peace and i am doing my best to understand myself but please try youre best not to get in my way. You can be their to help me, and you have been immensly. but please don't get in my way, only be their to witness and help cultivate my growth. Yes i am still annoyed at them and there are a lot of things about you that I want to discuss but i don't have the energy to do so right now and you have to respect that like how i had to respect you when you left me. So thanks. , Magz. 6:54 pm

This one if for you, you piece of shit. You are a retared idiot and i am happy you "cut me off" because you are a peice of shit. You are not a true friend and you never were, you are exactly what a fake friend is. You a low self entitled peice of shit and i hope you stay in student debt. I hope one day you realize what you've messed up on, but for now i know you'll diss me till you die. and like a man, you will never admit it to my face because of your massive ego. You were fun, i'll give you thaty. you really were, you were nice and cool and fun untiil you weren't qand now i have no respect for you. I understand thaty peope mess up and do bad things, and i have done my good share of things that are bad that i don't mean to do but you are different because you did those things willingly. You obviously didn't think it was fucked up, because everyone thinks their right in their own mind. But i don't like the perspective you have. I don't want closure from youm, to be honest i just want to fuilly get rid of you from my life and mind and I understand that takes time. So go be cocky, i don't care anymore. IO am realizeing who i am and what i stand for and what I don't like is that you are just a struggling insecure man. Love you too, stay broke king,

this one is for you, i don't really give a shit about you. you are a bystander and I don't like that. Bystanders do just as much lol. You have a lot of issues and are a man and have to be stoic and not show your emotiohns so sure i guess i understand. but i'm fine to be civil with you, but no matter what happens or how much time has passed their will always be a bad taste in my mouth when i hear your name. Nothing against you personally, but also everything against you.. Stay tunnel visioned king.

This one is for you. You're a piece of shit. You're not smart or coordinated enough to be a psychopath but youre to active to be a sociopath. So what you are is a.....OMGGG YOU'RE A NARCISSIST. that's what you are. damn, I've figured it out lol. you're a narcissist. Nothing wrong with that, you do you and if people want to help you weave your web, power to them, i just don't want to be apart of that. It is toxic for me and i don;'t want to associate with that. You were cool, you were fun until you weren't. I really thought you were cool and i gave you the benefit of the doubt for a very long time until you changed. I feel partially responsible for your downfall, but at the end of the day I trusted you to take care of you and you didn't lol. So yea, maybe I was someone who aided in your new found retartedness but i am not one to soley blame. I blame you, and only you.

[donnerpartyofone]

I'm not going to make any empty threats of deleting or even taking a break, I think at this point it's actually too late for me to ever reach escape velocity, but Tumblr is driving me fucking crazy lately. I keep thinking of different ways of articulating the problem/s and then I don't type them out because they start spiraling out into this convoluted system of caveats and disclaimers, which is actually a big problem in and of itself. There's that Simpsons joke from like the year one where Marge is suggesting baby names and Homer keeps thinking of insulting rhymes that other kids could make, and then *hilariously* he can't think of anything mean that someone might rhyme with "Bart" so that's what they pick; sometimes making a post on Tumblr feels exactly like that, like you have to cycle through every single possible negative reaction or exception someone might come up with--and maybe even if you really don't care, part of your brain is still habituated to waiting for the moment that someone comes up with a really stupid obnoxious misunderstanding of your very clear and/or innocent personal statement, and very often that's exactly what you get. The right choice is to not let this control you, but it can instill this state of frustration and paranoia just the same that makes posting less fun in general. But, as suggested, this is just one of many problems that I am (wisely, I hope) preventing myself from listing in too much detail. Like. It can feel important, nay, obligatory to help circulate urgent political information, and yet Tumblr is pretty much proven to be the worst place to receive and discuss political information; no matter what you do it feels like it's too much, or not enough, or both. Or like, I feel like I'm in a rut and I think that it's time to diversify and follow more different kinds of people, and then I realize I'm starting to feel pissed off and anxious all day because my dash is flooded with stuff that I don't want to see; I make myself stop every time and ask Who is posting this because I should just unfollow them, but then it's like...oh, that person posts nice nature photos 70% of the time, oh I actually like that guy as a person, oh that one is a good source of info on [x] so I just have to be patient with their bullshit...and then it's like, I let all these guys in and I can't figure out how to get rid of them anymore because I myself am making excuses for them. And I mean sometimes the people creating the noise are actually posting interesting and rational arguments about [y] and I theoretically want to read them, but they're contributing to this nightmarishly contentious and fraught atmosphere in my brain and I realize that I'm losing track of what I was ever even doing here in the first place.

For the first several years this was a place I came to hoard media and express myself, mainly for my own amusement, and I also found this little community of people who had some shared interests but who were all individually unique, and it was really fun and cool. And like during those same exact years there was bullshit going on in other parts of Tumblr that I could never care about AND that I didn't even have to know about! For various reasons of mass and volume or whatever it was still possible to really manicure your dash and not constantly be within two degrees of separation from something you hate, posted by someone you wouldn't give the time of day to. And I know I have to take responsibility for what I've done to my own situation here, I'm the one who is in control of who I follow/block/etc, but I guess for me it just became really easy to let this get out of control and I'm not sure how often I'm even enjoying myself anymore. This used to be an escapist activity to distract from IRL tortures, and now it just feels like its own, separate form of torture a lot of the time. I feel constantly bombarded by people screaming out their bad taste, or screaming in each other's faces, or both, and it's just stressing me out. And I don't know if everyone perceives this, but it also feels to me like the personalities are gone, the individual voices are extremely rare; most people all talk the same now, they're all mindlessly repeating the same punchlines and imitating the same cadence and phrasing that worked for some popular user, and I don't even have the same sense of Tumblr being full of freaks and weirdos. Even the trolls all sound the same, there's like this suffocating conformity going on and it seems to be what people aspire to because their main purpose for being here is a fantasy of abject public acceptance.

I mean don't worry, I "touch grass", I literally stop and smell the roses, I ride my bike, I have some friends, I do activities. That's not necessarily the problem. It's just Tumblr, like how did I even let it get like this. I think there's a pretty good chance I'll start a Neocities site, but I'm pretty sure that what will happen is that I'll be cross-posting here, and then I'll still be here checking out interactions and stuff, and nothing will change. But who knows, maybe I'll like co-host or whatever and I'll finally be able to make myself stop complaining. Stay tuned, if you enjoy this sort of thing.

I've asked this before and I'm sure I'll ask it again, but do you/have you used any of the proposed Tumblr alternatives and do you like any of them?

[obey-me-headquarters]

"Magically/removable pussy/dicks"

tw gore/body horror (kinda tame but i giv u heads up in case, feel free to just delete this!)

//

//

hello i am here with my own specific brainrot did you know that for certain breeds of octopus, the male octopus will detach its dick and offer it to the female as a living dildo and then possibly get eaten?

(male octopii in general usually just die after mating which is very cute of them like whoa head empty just cum and die huh babygirl? ill eat u.)

anyways. consider. you can remove the dick and the demon will grow the dick back, but the dick you removed can be stimulated and they'll still feel it until the new one comes in.

the thought of any of the dudes with a pussy,,, especially a pocket pussy that you can pull out and tease,,, TOP TIER, I LOVE,,

i remember a series by @asmos-pet where the brothers get a cursed fleshlight that you can actually feel and that was absolutely gold. in reverse??? FANTASTIC LOVE THE IDEA

(Discussions of body horror. Mild, but still there)

YEAH!! YOU GET IT!!!

OK but what if that's just a normal part of demon courting? Like, to symbolize that you trust your partner with the most sensitive part of yourself. But of course, Mc doesn't know that. So one day one of the demons are really excited to give you a gift, and you have no idea what it could possibly be.

Until you open it and see a very realistic dildo. You think they just got a mold of their dick. Which is like. Weird. But not the weirdest thing they ever done. Until you pick it up and start touching it and your demon shivers. You think for a moment that the dildo is magically connected to their dick, which is like, cool and sexy.

Until they tell you that it's actually their real dick.

When your brain reboots you demand that they take their pants off, and yup. Their dick is just gone. They are now a Ken doll. You would be more disturbed by this if it wasn't also very hot.

Now you can tease them and they're powerless to stop it. Rutting against their desk does nothing to get rid of the pressure. They're forced to take it at your speed, no matter how much they beg.

OK but what about the bros being able to change their private parts? Like, if they want a pussy they just pull out their dick and wait till a new pussy grows in, or vise versa with a dick. Waiting until their new pussy to grow in before fucking it with their own dick.

God imagine doing that with the bigger demons too. Diavolo becoming an absolute size queen as he squirms on his dick. Beel taking his dick so deep it creates a tummy bulge. Or forcing them to go to RAD with their dick shoved in them, a chastity cage holding them in place. Every step jostling their dick, making them clutch down to create this never ending cycle.

Also I read that series!! It was very good! I'm thinking of doing something inspired by that!!

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 6,188 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria, pre-Negan + flashbacks in other eras Warnings: language, fear and anxiety, mention of fear of heights Summary: Y/N and Daryl head out on the run for the requested medical supplies. Things are tense, but possibly about to get worse... This part is written in Daryl's POV!

Your name: submit What is this?

* * *

“I ain’t waitin’. I got a whiff of him and I gotta go before it disappears.”

“Daryl, are you sure about this?” Carol pressed him, creases from worry between her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’ve really thought this through?”

“What is there to think through? If he finds her again, he’ll kill her. And I ain’t waitin’ around for that to happen.” The archer was a blur of activity, gathering his gear and shoving it into his pack.

“I think you need to talk to her about this,” Carol insisted, relinquishing her hold on his poncho somewhat unwillingly as Daryl pulled it from her hands.

He shook his head. “Nah. Ya know she’ll want to be there and I can’t risk that…” he trailed off. “I can’t risk—can’t risk that.”

A thick silence stretched for a moment and Carol wrung her hands. “Well, what are you going to tell her?”

He paused, his hands on the clasp of his pack. “I ain’t tellin’ her anythin’. I’ll leave before its light tomorrow. By the time everyone is up, I’ll be gone.”

“What am I supposed to tell her then? When she inevitably asks?” Carol pressed him. “You want me to lie to her too?”

“I ain’t lyin’,” Daryl snapped. “‘M just not—not tellin’ her everythin’. ‘M ending this so she can move on.”

Carol’s jaw tensed. “It feels like a lie.”

“Just tell her I went north. To see what I could see. Lookin’ for supplies,” he drawled, setting his pack and crossbow on the ground beside his bed. “I don’t know.”

Carol sighed heavily and shook her head as he straightened up. “I don’t think this is—”

“Look, tell her whatever ya want. Just wait until ‘m gone. This is happenin’. It’ll be done. S’gonna be over with. For good.”

She shook her head and gave him a long look before crossing his cell and gently clasping his shoulder. “Be careful. I mean it,” she said, surrendering to the fact that there would be no changing his mind. He nodded, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth for a moment.

“I will.”

Carol gave him one last look full of anxiety and left him.

* * *

I hardly slept. Maybe caught 20 minutes here and 15 minutes there. Anxiety about the run—that’s all it was. At least, that’s what I kept tellin’ myself. Wanderin’ into a hospital was about the dumbest shit we could do. They always promised to be loaded with unexpected bullshit and floods of undead assholes. But lyin’ flat on my back in the dark, I knew deep down it had a helluva lot more to do with her than it had to do with the run. I was tryin’ to remember the last time I’d spent more than ten minutes alone with her and it left me with a feelin’ like somebody had dropped a damn lead weight onto my chest. I turned over in bed in an attempt to throw it off, but it still sat there on my lungs. I knew exactly when we’d last been alone for longer than a few minutes. Of course I fuckin’ knew. It was burned into my goddamn memory.

But it wasn’t doin’ me a lick of good to think on it so I pushed it away and waited for the clock beside me to read 5:15 before I climbed out of bed. My gear was all waitin’ ready, except for pickin’ up a gun on the way out. I half-expected to run into her in the armory, but it was dark and empty when I grabbed a handgun and some ammo. It felt like a lonely walk to Aaron’s, up the empty street, dew heavy on the grass, and my bootsteps echoing loudly off the dark rows’a houses. I never feel right in here… with the square little lawns and lights on by the front doors. It just felt fake, like somebody had built paper houses and was plannin’ to light ‘em up to burn any minute. I couldn’t feel settled. I just felt… lost. Outta place. Like I didn’t belong.

I’d gotten rid of that feelin’ once… My mind drifted back to her like it always did. It was like I didn’t have no damn control over my own mind. She’d been the one who’d made me feel like I belonged. But now? Fuck. I’m doin’ it again. Focus, dumbass.

She wasn’t waitin’ by my bike either, so I rode up to the gate. As the lookout platform came into view, I caught sight of her climbing down, followed by Gabriel. Her pack was slung on her back, a shotgun hanging at her side and her favorite pistol in a holster on her thigh. I found myself chewing the inside of my cheek. Nerves. Anxiety. This was gonna be a long fuckin’ day.

“I’ve got the gate,” Gabriel said, heading for the latch. She wandered over and I felt a jolt when she met my eyes. I nudged my nose up in a nod, but she just looked back at me with that same stony expression. Unreadable. It always seemed like I never saw her smile anymore. Maybe she did, just not around me. I got that blank look or a glare that I probably deserved…

“Were ya on watch?” I asked, curious why she wouldn’ta gotten rid of her shift in favor of sleep, knowing we’d be heading out on a run early.

“No,” she said simply. No extra info. Typical. Why waste more on me when one word would do? She didn’t owe me nothin’. And she knew it. I swallowed my other questions and leaned forward on my bike so she could climb on. I felt her settle in behind me and glanced over my shoulder at her. She caught my eyes for a brief moment before looking away, down toward the ground. That was typical too. It was like she just couldn’t look at me. Felt like somebody twisted a blade in my chest every time she dodged me like that. And yet I couldn’t get enough of her, even if she was purposely a giant pain in the ass most of the damn time… I still felt like she was a mirage in a desert. A mouthful of cool water in a drought. Food for a starvin’ man.

Gabriel was waiting with the gate open, so I revved the bike to life again. Her arms wrapped around my waist to hold on and for a second I thought I felt her cheek press against the back of my shoulder, but I knew I must have imagined it. My heart was racing as we pulled out. I was more anxious than I had been all night. The thoughts rushing through my head moved so fast I couldn’t even focus on any of them.

Gabriel yelled at us to be safe as we moved through, kickin’ dust up that left a glowing red cloud behind from the reflection of the taillights. The ride to the city was smooth. We made good time, luckily only passing lone walkers or small herds that were easy to avoid. Around the curves, for a brief moment, she’d hold tighter to me and lean into the turns like I’d taught her in what felt like another fuckin’ lifetime. Each corner I could feel every individual fingertip pressing into my waist or stomach. It was always followed by a sudden wash of heat like somebody had shoved me in a shower with the temperature all the way up. I couldn’t control it. Didn’t matter how hard I tried to ignore the feelin’ of being so damn close against each other…

I slowed down as we neared the hospital. Cars sat rusting in gridlocked traffic, tires long gone, frozen in time—same place they were when everythin’ shut the fuck down. I slowed my bike to roll over some debris and hit a chunk of concrete a little harder than I meant to. Her arms tightened around me reflexively at the jolt before loosening again the next second. My heart jolted at the same time. That feeling… of her clinging onto me for safety—but fuck. Let’s not make it out to be more than it is, dumbass. I turned toward my left shoulder. “Sorry,” I murmured. She didn’t say anything back, just shifted in her place behind me, puttin’ an inch more space back between us. The hospital came into view ahead, tall over everything else on the block.

She tapped my arm and I turned so I could hear her over the engine. “We should park. Sound of the bike,” she said. I knew what she was thinkin’. Any walkers or people anywhere around would hear us. I turned down a side street and parked in a loading dock bay. She climbed off about as damn fast as she could. Kicking the kickstand out and swinging my leg over, she was already walking back toward the corner of the building to look down the street.

“Hold up,” I called after her. I still had to get my gear off the back. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t give a shit and I found myself gritting my teeth. But when I rushed around the corner, I nearly collided with her. She did wait. She was leaned up against the brick, her shotgun in her hands, staring ahead at the looming building.

She straightened up as I stopped beside her and we started windin’ our way down the last couple blocks, keepin’ to the shadows of the buildings, stayin’ in cover as best we could. Even so, I couldn’t help glancin’ up at the endless windows, too many high points. All it would take is one asshole with a rifle and a scope... My hands started to sweat as I gripped my crossbow. I glanced at her, but she was as stony-faced as ever. “C’mon,” I said, quickening my stride. “I wanna get the hell off this street.”

I heard her let out a small scoff behind me. “Yeah, you’re the only one worried about being out here,” she murmured. My teeth clenched again but I did my best to ignore it. There was no point gettin’ riled up this early in the day. We still had a lot of fuckin’ work to do. We reached a set of double doors on the side of the hospital, but one glance inside showed they were well barricaded. I stood there rubbing a hand over the stubble on my face. “S’try the south door,” I drawled. To my surprise, she didn’t argue. But that side was a fuckin’ bust too. “Shit,” I spat out. There was a tall cabinet blocking the entrance.

“Good call,” she said sarcastically.

I shot her a glare. And this time when I bit my cheek, I tasted blood. “Ya got a better fuckin’ idea? Huh?” I challenged her.

She rolled her eyes, studying the door for a moment. There was a large glass pane above it that was broken out and I saw her eyes lock in on it. “Boost me up there,” she said, inclining her chin to indicate the window.

Did she want to go in alone? Well, that sure as shit wasn’t fuckin’ happenin’. “Like hell,” I growled back. She rolled her eyes again.

“Just boost me through and I’ll get the door open. I’ll let you in.”

Now it was my turn to scoff. “Ya gonna move that cabinet? By yerself?” I asked skeptically. The muscle in her jaw tensed.

“I don’t have to move it far. Just enough to let you squeeze in. And you can help from the outside.”

I pulled my bottom lip in between my teeth. I didn’t like the idea. I paced a tight circle, thinkin’, as she shifted impatiently beside me. “What if ya get in there and there are walkers? Huh? We can’t see shit down the hall.”

“I’ll be quiet. Come on. We haven’t got all fucking day and we’re sitting ducks out here. Unless you’ve come up with something better—”

I didn’t like it, but she was right. Shit. “Fine,” I interrupted. She leaned her shotgun up against the wall as I set my back against the door, fingers locked together and hands low at my bent knee. “C’mon. Gimme yer foot.”

She seemed to hesitate and I wondered if she was having second thoughts, but the next moment she stepped close in front of me and her hands came to my shoulders. “Ready?” I asked. Her face was maybe six inches from mine, her hands light. I started to feel warm again, a flush of heat across the back of my neck that started spillin’ into my chest. I could see every fleck of color in her eyes, the upturned curve of her eyelashes, that little scar on her chin... Fuck. Focus.

“Ready.” She planted her boot in my hands and I boosted her up so she could grab the window edge. The tinkling of glass dropping in was all I could hear for a moment, and then her weight disappeared from my hands. Spinning around, I watched her pull herself through onto the top of the cabinet. She stayed perched there for a moment, glancin’ behind her, scoutin’ the hallway, before she dropped to her feet lightly. She made it look easy. Graceful.

I couldn’t stand still, constantly shifting my weight. I watched her face tighten as she wedged her shoulder into the cabinet, using all her weight, and it started to move at an angle away from the door. I pushed in with my shoulder from the outside and we finally had enough space for me to slip through. I passed her shotgun through first before turnin’ sideways and slidin’ in. It was dark and completely silent except for the sound of our own breathin’. It felt stuffy inside, and I could vaguely smell somethin’ sharp like animal piss and a sickeningly sweet smell. Death. Decay. I paused to draw the string on my crossbow back, cocking it ready to fire, a bolt nestled in the flight groove.

She pulled her flashlight out from the side pocket of her pack and clicked it on, shining it partially up the hallway ahead. “Jesus…” Her boots crunched over broken glass. She adjusted the shoulder strap of her shotgun, her eyes fixed down the hall, following the moving beam of her light. “This place is a fucking wreck,” she whispered. In her distraction, her tone lacked the usual hostility or sarcasm.

“Somethin’ went down since we were last here,” I agreed. There was a lot more debris and furniture toppled over and strewn about. A lot of obstacles to a clean getaway if we had to make one. “Let’s just get this done and get the hell out.”

“What a unique idea…” she remarked over her shoulder. There it was. Damn sarcasm was back.

I couldn’t help rolling my eyes and movin’ past her so I was in the lead. I knew it would annoy her, but I secretly wanted to be the one in the line of fire if somethin’ was crooked. I headed for the stairwell, pullin’ my own flashlight out and shinin’ it inside before I tried the door. It looked clear. “Upper floors are more likely to have shit left. Let’s go.”

We moved in silence. I could feel her ghosting behind me the whole way, almost mimicking my movements. This was the first time the two of us had been alone on a run since… since I dun even know when. But despite it being so goddamn long, we weren’t out of step. Once we started movin’ it was like no damn time had passed. We fell right back into our old rhythm. I knew her and she knew me. We worked well together when she put aside her need to argue with everythin’ I said. It still felt like we each knew what the other was thinkin’. Not that I expected this run would magically make working together bearable again for good, or solve anything, but at least we could if we had to. I also now was realizin’ this whole thing was probably orchestrated by Rick. Did Denise really need the supplies? Sure. But did it have to be Y/N and I gettin’ ‘em? Alone? Fuck no. I dunno exactly what he was hopin’ for but I’m pretty sure he’ll be disappointed…

Moving steadily upwards, we had most of the supplies on the list, plus plenty of extra finds, but I was growing more and more uneasy as we went on. We hadn’t run into a single fucking walker yet, and to me that meant they were probably herded up in a massive hoard somewhere. It felt like a matter of time before we found them or they found us. I could sense Y/N’s tension risin’ again too. She was more fidgety, more careful about each step she took. I found myself frequently sweeping my eyes back behind us to make sure nothin’ was lurking just outta the flashlight beams. There were the usual signs of walkers nearby; smears of blood on the floor and walls, that fuckin’ smell ya could never get outta yer nose, even chunks of flesh from the rottin’ fuckers. But we still hadn’t seen one, and I was fuckin’ worried.

“Almost got everything,” Y/N whispered to me, shoving a couple more bottles into her pack. “We just need to find the CPAP machine,” she murmured, staring down at the list. “I don’t have a fucking clue what the hell that looks like.” She glanced over at me, one of her eyebrows quirked in a question and I realized she was waitin’ for some kinda response.

“What? Yer lookin’ at me? I ain’t got a goddamn clue what the hell that even is,” I said gruffly. Shit. I saw it. Just for a second, but one corner of her lips twitched up in a smile and I swear there was a spark in her eyes—like the ones I used to see in her all the time. My heart jumped and I tried my best to ignore it. She seemed to turn away, hidin’ her face right as I was puzzlin’ over it.

“Right… well, let’s try down the hall. There’s probably another supply closet at the other end,” she said, nudging her head toward the darkness ahead.

We made our way cautiously. I pushed into the lead again and was surprised when she didn’t argue. I tried every door handle but most of ‘em just led to empty or trashed patient rooms. I caught her frozen in the doorway of one that had a massive bloodstain on the floor and spatter partially up the walls. Her eyes were wide and vacant, and I wondered what she was reliving. “Hey,” I said, just over her shoulder. She seemed to pull out of it abruptly and she turned away, moving on like nothin’ had happened. I let her go ahead, mainly so I could keep an eye on her for a minute and make sure she still had her head in the game, but I didn’t need to worry. Not about that anyway. She’d always been tough. She wasn’t shaken by shit easily. I knew that. And yet I still had this drive to want to protect her, even though she didn’t need it from me. And she definitely didn’t want it from me.

“Here,” she said suddenly, slinging her gun back on her shoulder and more fully opening the door to a small supply closet. There was hardly enough room for her to stand inside, so I posted up just behind her and strained my eyes and ears for anythin’. “It’s all electronic stuff,” she whispered, entirely focused at the task at hand. Her hands floated from one device to the next, illuminated by her flashlight. She was looking for some label or model number or somethin’ to tell her what they were. She bent down and grabbed some scattered papers from among the boxes on the floor. Swearing under her breath she held one up to the flashlight. “Of course the cover and all the useful shit in the front is torn off,” she muttered. She was bending down to grab another handful when there was some sudden, deep noise on the floor above us.

My heart seemed to stall out for a moment and she straightened up and froze, her eyes lifted toward the ceiling, lips partially parted. The sound seemed to reverberate through the building. I could feel it beneath my feet. It resonated through the walls. After a moment, I was looking at her and she glanced over and met my eyes, her eyebrows a little furrowed with worry.

“What the fuck was that?” she asked in a harsh whisper. I only shook my head. She gulped and refocused, shakin’ it off, focusing back on the papers. She was flipping page after page, scanning them as fast as she could.

I started to hear some more noises above us and then eventually spilling toward the other end of the hall. My grip on my crossbow tightened. “We need to move,” I said, keeping my voice low.

She was still intensely focused on the manual in her hands. “Just gimme a minute…” she said vaguely.

I shifted, turning more toward the far end of the hallway, straining my hearing. There was more clattering above us. “We might not have another damn minute.”

“Just—hold on—”

Fuck. I stood frozen for a moment as a herd of walkers started to spill out from the stairwell at the other end of the hallway and start toward us. “We ain’t got a minute, Y/N!” I urged in a harsh whisper. She didn’t seem to hear me.

There were more walkers than I could count. They hadn’t spotted us yet but I had to move fast, so I did the only damn thing I could think of and pushed her forward into the closet, pressing in after her and shutting the door as quietly as I could. I instinctively clicked my flashlight off and hurried to grab hers and do the same, plunging the two of us into darkness in that small space.

“Daryl, what the hell?!” she snapped at me. She’d been so focused she was completely oblivious to the mass of dead wandering our way. The goddamn closet was so small I had no choice but to be pressed into her… My heart started to pound and I think it had more to do with her against me than the undead assholes outside. I was sure she’d be able to feel it and prayed she’d just think it was adrenaline or somethin’. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

I shoved my hand over her mouth, all my patience gone. Did she really think I’d shoved her in a closet for the hell of it? “For once in yer goddamn life just shut up!” I growled in a low voice. She seemed to tense against me but in the quiet the sounds of the walkers outside the door were now easily heard above our ragged breathin’ and they were growing louder every second. I still had one hand over her mouth and the other clenching my crossbow at my side. She shifted against me and pulled my hand away. I could hear and feel her breathin’ pick up pace. I planted my palm on the wall behind her, next to her head, very aware of the growin’ heat pooling between the two of us where we were pressed together. The air felt suffocatin’. I started to worry the walkers outside the door would be able to hear my breathin’ I was so nervous. I wanted to shift, move away from her like I’m sure she wanted… I wanted to change positions and get my bow up, but it was impossible.

She didn’t seem to know where to put her arms within the tight, dark space. I couldn’t blame her. I was leaned in against her, sorta over her even. I felt her hand accidentally brush my arm and my body jolted a little at the contact, like some reflex I didn’t know I had. My teeth ground together. After that she seemed to settle away from me, into the wall behind her.

We had to just stay there, fuckin’ frozen, hardly room to breathe while the hoard passed by. Every once and a while, a body would thump hard against the door and I’d feel her flinch. I could feel sweat dripping down my neck and beading up on my face, my hair sticking to it. We were so close I could feel her breath against my skin when she faced toward me. I felt the rhythm of her breathin’. And I couldn’t ignore the fact that in that tiny ass closet, the only thing I could smell was the faint scent of her shampoo. I tried hard not to notice, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t try to put some name to the smell. Lavender? Not quite. Maybe more like rose? I dunno. And despite the possible death lurking just outside, I found it hard to focus on anythin' other than the feeling of her against me.

It felt like it took hours for the hoard to pass, but it was probably only ten minutes. But after the sounds drifted away we were still left with a big fuckin’ problem. They had to go somewhere, and my best guess was that they were travelin’ down.

It was so dark in there I couldn’t even tell if my fuckin’ eyes were open or closed, and it seemed to be makin’ it hard to think… Or maybe the angle of her one hip pressed into me was—fuck. Get it together, man… I fumbled for and clicked on my flashlight, findin' the two of us both wincin' at the sudden glare, noses almost touchin'. She was lookin’ up at me, her lips softly parted, her expression only full of concern for once, that little worry line she always gets near her eyebrow.

We both stayed like for a second. I guess just struck by actually seein’ how close we were in the sudden light, until finally she tore her eyes away and turned her head.

I tried to clear my throat, worried my voice was gonna come out soundin' strained or somethin’. “Uhh… sounded like they were goin’—”

“—down. Yeah,” she finished.

My eyes traced the angle of her jawline as she kept her face turned away from me. I heard the paper manual crinkle in her hand and groped for the doorknob behind me. “Yeah,” I agreed quietly. “So, we got a problem about gettin’ out.” My hand finally landed on the doorknob and I turned it and slowly opened the door on the hall, checking both directions carefully but also feelin’ like if I didn’t put some damn space between the two of us again I was about to explode. It looked clear and I stepped out. Glancin’ back, she still seemed frozen, up against the wall, her face turned away toward her shoulder so I couldn’t really get a read on her. “Hey. What is it?” I prompted her.

“Hmm?” She seemed to snap back to herself. “N—nothing…” She went back to searching the manual in her hand, like nothin’ had fuckin’ happened. Just one goddamn time I’d like to know what the fuck is goin’ on inside her head… But I ain’t got no right to that. She’s made that pretty fuckin’ clear.

It wasn’t the right manual or the right machine. But she went through two more until she found it. “Got it,” she announced, waving the paper at me before shoving it into her already full duffel bag. She seized a small machine from the shelf and started trying to rearrange items to make it fit in her pack.

“I got room,” I said, still nervously checkin’ over my shoulder. I thought I could hear the hoard moving below us, maybe two floors down.

“It’s fine. I can make it fit,” she said, jostling more stuff in her bag.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed the damn thing from her, slinging my crossbow strap over my shoulder. “Ya’d really rather split yer pack at the seams than take any fuckin’ help from me,” I murmured. I didn’t wait for an answer. I didn’t need one…

She stepped out of the closet and I caught her wiping her forearm across her forehead. It left a smear of dirt near her hairline. I had to pull myself back to the present. “So, how are we getting out of here?” she asked, adjusting her pack and the duffel bag strap on her shoulder.

I glanced at her, knowing she wasn’t gonna like my idea.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, you’ve obviously got something. Just get on with it.”

“Fire escape,” I said.

I watched the muscle in her jaw twitch as he jaw clenched. “Fuckin’ great…”

“Unless ya got somethin’ else—”

“You know I don’t,” she snapped back at me. She wiped a hand across her forehead again, swiping away fresh drops of sweat. “It’s—” She cut herself off. “Let’s just go,” she sighed, defeated.

I looked at her for a second more, trying to gauge just how freaked out she was, but it didn’t seem to matter. We didn’t have any other options.

“Let’s go,” she snapped again. “Before I change my mind about being able to handle this.”

“It ain’t—”

She squeezed her eyes shut and I watched her body tense. “I swear to god, Dixon, if you say ‘It ain’t that bad’ or ‘It ain’t that high’ right now, I will lose my shit and attract every fucking walker in this goddamn building. I don’t even give a fuck.” Her jaw muscle twitched.

I couldn’t help letting out a sigh that was more of a growl than anything but then I turned and headed for the window a couple doors down that I’d noticed was busted out. Leaning through, I scanned the outside of the building for a fire escape. Nothing on that side.

“It’s probably around the other side. Let’s try the end of the hall,” she suggested. Her boots stayed rooted to the floor and I glanced at her again. She caught my eyes and must have read the concern on my face.

“I’m fine. You’re the last person I need worrying about me,” she growled.

Fuck. She could be infuriating… I found my hand clenching and unclenching a few times before I followed her back out of the room.

She was right. There was a fire escape down that side. I grabbed a piece of metal off the floor and straightened up. “Ya ready?” I asked one more time. “They might hear this glass break so we gotta fuckin’ move.” I thought her hands were a bit shaky.

“Just do it,” she said. And this time, I could hear the quiver in her voice.

I smashed the window and knocked out the glass before pullin' myself through. The metal grates rattled under my boots and she looked suddenly sick as she approached the window sill. I hesitated a second before reaching a hand out to help her through.

“I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t look fine, but she gripped the ledge and climbed out. “Oh, fuck. Fuck…” she muttered as her feet landed on the platform. She was keeping her eyes fixed straight out. Even just the metal grates at th prison used to freak her out, and that was one floor.

I wanted to comfort her but… I wasn’t dumb enough to think it’d help or that she wanted me to, so instead I just started down the stairs at a good pace. She followed stiffly behind me, gripping onto the railing with white knuckles and falling behind.

Every once and a while I’d glance back and she looked like she was about to be sick, but she was still following. We hit a snag as we reached the third-floor platform. A large part of it had rusted and fallen away, leaving a gaping hole we would have to edge around to reach the next set of stairs.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” I heard her behind me and when I looked back her eyes were wide and round and she was clutching onto the railing like it was a lifeline.

“S’fine. I’ll cross first. Just keep over—”

“Oh, really, Daryl? I should keep over to the side? You mean I should stay away from the huge fucking hole in the goddamn floor?” It kept drawing her eyes and I’d see her rip them back up and away, reeling.

I knew that was mostly coming from the fact that she was fuckin’ terrified, but every harsh word from her still stung. “Fine. Clearly, yer good,” I spat back. “Ya don’t need me and ya don’t give a shit and yer fine. I fuckin’ got it.” So much for trying to calm her down. I edged past the hole in the metal grating and went down the next set of stairs. Finally, I just had to push down the ladder, climb down, and we’d be on solid ground again. But when I looked back up, she was still frozen where she had been, on the far side of the platform. I watched her for another minute, waiting to see if she’d move. I knew she wasn’t gonna ask for help, not from me, but she obviously needed it and tough shit, I’m the only damn person here. I rubbed a hand across the back of my neck, anxious to even try again, and climbed back up. I edged past the rusted-out hole and stopped next to her. “Just gimme yer hand.” She didn’t loosen her grip on the railing, and her eyes landed on my face. “S’fine. Just for two seconds, lemme fuckin’ help ya.”

Her chest was heaving with fearful breaths and I guess the idea of tryin’ to cross along that edge alone was worse than puttin’ her hand in mine. Part of me still thought she’d take the heights over me, but she didn’t… She pried her hand off the railing and placed it into mine. I—I can’t say my heart didn’t jump when my fingers closed around it. The motorcycle. The fuckin’ closet. Now this. We’d hardly been within six feet of each other for years and now all this in one day… I felt dizzy. It ain’t like Rick could have predicted these things would happen. He sure as shit couldn’t command a hoard to force us into each other in a tiny closet… but he must have been hopin’ for somethin’ by sendin’ us out here. Was it gonna work on her? I fuckin’ doubt it.

As we stepped along the edge of the edge of the platform, she held her breath. She always seemed like nothing in this fucked up world scared her anymore, nothing phased her. Half the time it almost seemed like she didn’t give a shit if she died. But this? Heights? This still scared her on some level she couldn't reason away.

But we made it across just fine. She was gripping onto me so tightly I thought she might have bruised the bones in my damn hand. And as we climbed down the next set of stairs, long past the danger, she was still holding onto me. But just as quickly as I realized it, she slipped her hand out and stiffened next to me again, fixing her eyes away toward the railing, which she grabbed onto again desperately.

We made it down the ladder, dropping onto the concrete and making a run back to my bike, slippin' from cover to cover, packs heavy and weighing us down. I was thinking how batshit crazy it was that we’d just done a hospital run and hadn’t had to kill a single walker AND managed to get all the damn supplies... when we rounded the last corner and a string of curses left her mouth.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. What the fuck?!” She knelt down next to my bike and as I looked, my stomach dropped.

“Son of a fuckin' bitch.” Both tires on my motorcycle were slashed. Ruined. Fuck.

We were stranded in the city without a runnin’ vehicle and somebody knew we were here.

[moririki]

⤷ AN EIGHT-LEGGED PROBLEM

OIKAWA TOORU & SAKUSA KIYOOMI & HAIBA LEV & MIYA ATSUMU X READER -> 1.8K
you save your boyfriend from a massive problem which is currently in the corner of your bathroom )

REQUEST -> n/a
CONTAINS -> spiders, bugs, you picking up said creepy crawlies, hq boys being no! help! at! all! (but that's ok bc we love them for it), fanon-ish sakusa cos i haven't read the manga and he had like 5 seconds of screen time so i'm just going off of what i've read + seen, clear favouritism despite the fact that i know basically nothing about sakusa, manga timeskip spoilers in sakusa's
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> haven't seen one where the reader is the one in the relationship who takes care of bugs so since i'm a #girlboss who throws spiders out of my room whenever i see them without breaking a sweat i'm writing that into a fun lil thing with the haikyuu boys that i strongly believe are scared of bugs. also besides the point but look at the pretty colour palette that their banners make fjfjfjdj will go back to writing the requests after this! inspiration just struck

❍ OIKAWA TOORU

-> omg this fucking guy

-> don't let his pride fool you this man HATES bugs with a burning passion

-> he'll never admit it though

-> between you and the aoba johsai team he would never hear the end of how the great king oikawa would cower at the sight of a moth doing laps around a lightbulb

-> so when you pretended not to hear the shriek that left your boyfriend when he saw something flying around the bathroom light and he declined your offer to get rid of the moth for him, this left oikawa in a pretty difficult situation

-> it was just him alone in the bathroom, trying to brush his teeth while eyeing the bug warily

-> you came in a few minutes later, getting ready to go to bed as well

-> "you know, babe, that moth's been there for quite a while," you teased him

-> oikawa hummed in response, his eyes never leaving it as it continued its circumnavigation of the light fixture

-> "oh, you know. who am i to kick someone out of their home? i'm no monster"

-> you almost snorted at how poor of an excuse that was, but ruffled your boyfriend's hair anyway

-> "i'll take care of it, ru, you just finish getting ready"

-> "but y/n-chan, that moth has feelings! don't be mean to it!"

-> you gave tooru a very blank stare at that

-> "so do you want me to leave you alone with your new friend?"

-> "......no"

-> "that's what i thought"

-> you went up to the moth, managing to trap it in your hands before releasing it from a window

-> oikawa shuddered as you came back to the sink, giving your hands a quick rinse before resuming with brushing your teeth like nothing had happened

-> "you're so brave, my love"

-> "anything for you, babe"

❍ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

-> bless this poor boy

-> so it's no secret that sakusa isn't the fondest of germs

-> and that extends to bugs and spiders too

-> besides a normal amount of disgust that he held for them, the thought of where the insects had been or placed one of their many feet on never failed to make his skin crawl

-> that's where you, his wonderful significant other, comes in

-> as much as he loves you, he just can't understand how you always stared at bugs with wonder in your eyes

-> you'd even pick them up, cooing at the way they crawled up your arm while sakusa just stared at you in disbelief with a can of bug spray in hand

-> tonight was one of those swelteringly hot summer nights

-> you know, the ones where the air seems to be still no matter how many windows you open and every insect in a mile radius is actively trying to enter your home

-> you were spending the night at your boyfriend's apartment, ready to have a relaxing night in with him since your schedules had finally synced up and allowed you both to enjoy a day off at the same time

-> it took months of trust before sakusa finally admitted to you how much he enjoyed doing skincare

-> so whenever you two spent the night together, you decided to start the evening with some face masks and idle binging of a tv show

-> against his half-hearted protests, you had insisted that sakusa wore a headband while this happened (one that had a very cute duck face printed on it)

-> just to keep the curls out of his face, of course

-> whenever he caught you sneaking a candid of him with facemask and duck headband on, he just shot you a halfhearted glare and threatened you to never send that to atsumu or the rest of the msby team

-> (you set it as your home screen instead)

-> anyways, i digress

-> so tonight you decided to cool down from the heat with a few facemasks and cuddling in your boyfriend's heavily air conditioned living room

-> but he kept all his skincare stuff in the bathroom, so you went to go get them as he set up a show to watch along with some snacks

-> you flicked on the light, going to his cabinet when something in the corner of the room caught your eye

-> there was a fairly large spider, desperately trying to crawl up the smooth tile wall

-> you decided to take pity on it and release it

-> but when you had it cupped safely in your hands, you decided to terrorise your poor boyfriend just a little

-> "hey, omi, look what i found!"

-> your boyfriend perked up at your signature nickname for him, though his eyes narrowed as he saw your clasped hands held in front of you

-> "no"

-> "but baby, you haven't even seen-"

-> "no"

-> you giggled at how defensive he had become

-> "come on, don't you want to name it? it's very cute"

-> "i want you to throw it out, y/n"

-> "alright, alright"

-> you took the spider to a window, releasing it back outside before heading back to the bathroom and grabbing a few masks for real this time

-> sakusa gave you the cold shoulder as you sat down next to him, humming as you gave him a face mask and putting it on without a word

-> "aww, baby, i'm sorry"

-> "..."

-> "i'll give you a head massage if you stop ignoring me?"

-> sakusa turned to you, his eyes narrowed in thought as he stared you down

-> the act soon broke, though, and he smiled against the sheet mask that was on his face

-> "it better be a good one," he huffed as he tugged the duck headband off, already sighing at the sensation of your fingers against his scalp

-> "omi, come on, what do you take me for?"

❍ HAIBA LEV

-> ngl lev gives off equal amounts of being terrified of like the tiniest spider or just finding bugs insanely cool vibes

-> it's funnier to imagine this 6-foot-something guy scramble away from a fucking crane fly in terror though so this is how it's going to play out

-> when you invited your giant of a boyfriend to your flat, you didn't anticipate just how small he made everything appear

-> he even towered in your doorway, having to stoop to step through into your hall

-> "woahh, i love your place!"

-> it was his first time staying over for the night, and lev was making sure to drink in every aspect of your interior design

-> you found it sweet of him, and watched as he stared in wide-eyed wonder at the little trinkets you had collected over the years to make your small apartment seem more like a home

-> you didn't expect him to scream at the top of his lungs and practically run back to you, though

-> you jumped at the sound, watching as he scrambled away from your lamp and pointed back at it with a shaking finger

-> you squinted at it, making out the very menacing form of a crane fly as it bumped into the lampshade and continued on its path

-> "lev, you big baby," you giggled, heading to the kitchen to grab a glass and trap it

-> "y/n, don't leave me alone with it!" he yelped, and you rolled your eyes at his antics

-> you came back, smoothly capturing the insect and throwing it out of a nearby window

-> lev was sat on your couch the whole time, hands covering his eyes as he curled in a ball

-> "is it gone?" he asked, and you you giggled at how childlike he was acting at the moment

-> "it's all good, baby" you smoothed his hair and lev gratefully leaned into your touch, a sigh of relief leaving him

-> "thank you, y/n"

-> "i'll get rid of all the bugs in the world for you, lev"

❍ MIYA ATSUMU

-> gives off the vibes that he used to eat bugs as a child i'm sorry but

-> have mercy on his soul lmao

-> so twins are supposed to be identical right?

-> anyone who spends more than a few minutes around the miya twins know that that's a complete fucking lie

-> and you've had the misfortune of being friends with them for a very long time

-> like your mums were friends and you were all born around the same time

-> you've been pulled into their shit before you could walk or talk

-> so you're well aware of just how different these mfs are

-> even though they were both absolute bastards, osamu always had a slightly more mellowed out approach which would always end up with atsumu getting the blame for what they got up to

-> especially as a child, osamu loved to terrorise his twin with the unwilling help of you

-> one of the ways was through osamu exploiting one of his twins' fears

-> that being bugs and spiders

-> he always cackled at the sight of atsumu screaming and trying to run away from him due to the spider he was holding

-> as they both grew up, this became less of a frequent thing for osamu to do

-> you also somehow started dating atsumu, but nobody could exactly pinpoint a moment that signified a beginning to your relationship

-> but since you're dating the world's biggest manchild in disguise, and osamu gets annoyed with atsumu quite easily, you would have to swoop in to rescue him from time to time

-> recently the twins had been getting a little snappy with each other, and it had yet to sort itself out

-> from what you had heard your boyfriend was in the wrong this time, but you still listened to him whine and rant about it

-> you were going to the inarizaki school gym to say hi to your boyfriend and best friend before practice started, only to see absolute chaos unfolding

-> with kita yet to arrive, the twins were effectively unleashed and that much was clear with the way atsumu was practically screaming his head off as he ran around the gym

-> your eyes took in the rest of the players- aran had his head in his hands, suna was snickering with his phone out to record the newest miya twin fight, and osamu's deranged laugh could be heard above everything else as he chased his brother, hand held out in front of him

-> only one thing was capable of making atsumu scream like that, so you already knew what was happening

-> atsumu quickly spotted you hovering in the doorway, and made a beeline to where you were

-> his eyes were panicked, and you were quick to wrap him in a hug as you shot osamu a nasty glare over his shoulder

-> literally this lmfao

-> "that's enough, 'samu"

-> your best friend paused, before a smile spread across his face as he dangled the centipede in front of him

-> "you know it was rubber, right?"

-> you felt your boyfriend tense in your arms and you bit your lip to stifle a small giggle

-> but at least they would be back to normal by the end of today

back to the menu - ,, 🕷 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[vvanillavveins]

This one is such a cool idea, thank you for tagging me!! I am sorry this is so late- I had to actually sit & think about this for a good 2-3 days because damn it's difficult.

I had to talk through each one in order to work out an order, so i'm sorry for the incoming rambling if anyone reads this-

oh god oh fuck

1. The Vast, I think? - Open spaces? My own insignificance? Incomprehensible giant creatures?- Couldn't care less, actually, almost boring, in fact. Heights?- Love the adrenaline rush, can't get enough of them. However, my one & only life-long phobia is deep water. If you asked me what would be the worst possible thing that you could ever do to me, i'd say it'd be leaving me to tread water in the middle of the ocean. I can't even look at paintings of deep water without my pulse increasing. Those really cool little diorama things people make with the resin fake water? I stop being able to breathe when i look at them. No idea why. Phobias are just weird like that.

2. The Corruption - idk if its sensory issues or what but if i find bugs in my house i feel itchy and hot and start tearing at my skin and it's just awful.

3. The Eye - i don't like being watched. Being watched by The Eye means never truly being alone again & i need to be alone to keep sane.

4. The Desolation - on one hand, losing everything would be quite freeing. On the other hand, everyone around me being hurt isn't fair- if it's my fear then i should be the only one suffering.

5. The Extinction - like the Desolation, more depressing than scary. I think life in an apocalyptic wasteland would be way too monotonous for me though.

6. The Web - i can't handle change, so completely losing control of everything would not end well, lmao.

7. The Buried - i feel pretty neutral about all the physical manifestations of this one. It's the financial element that makes it stressful.

8. The Dark - eh, i've never been scared of the dark & i can't see very well in most light anyway. TMA is just really well written; it's the one of the only things that've made me understand why people fear the dark.

9. The End - again, no real strong feelings about this one. The lack of proper action is a bit tedious. But overall it just kinda feels comforting, in a way? I like the security/reliability of it. Also, i'm a massive coimetrophile.

10. The Hunt - i like adrenaline; i really love the feeling of being chased. Even if i logically understand that it's a matter of survival, some part of my brain still goes, "ooo what a fun ✨️game✨️", lmao.

11. The Slaughter - being chased is a game, so i'll run- but unless i am actually told to, running just doesn't naturally occur to me. Most of the time when i'm presented with an actual threat i skip past fear and go straight to anger. It's foolhardy, sure, but how dare anything have the audacity to think it can threaten me? I'm not saying I'd win a fight with a Slaughter avatar, but i would try. I think being a masochist helps.

12. The Spiral - less of a threat and more of just a continuation of my everyday life, i'm not sure what would change tbh. I do like liminal spaces, though, so that's a plus. Also, i feel like a Spiral avatar would be quite good company for a brain like mine- i could quite happily just chatter at them without having to over-explain & redefine everything.

13. The Flesh - gore & viscera are satisfying, and i honestly think i'd give anything for limitless body modification.

14. The Lonely - what makes the Lonely so appealing to me is how it isolates you; it either strands you in empty places or it replaces the people around you. If there's no one to reach out to, then you can't do anything to fix your loneliness. Never being able to form genuine connections with others is painful, but the Lonely would help get rid of the initial desire for connection. I think the Lonely would help me be much more at peace with myself.

15. The Stranger - i don't fear the Stranger because, ironically, it's the most familiar one. And i know for sure i could survive whatever it can throw at me; i already can't read faces or voices, i've already forgotten entire people like they were just deleted from my memory & i don't experience the uncanny valley effect- so it wouldn't get any fear from me anyway. Hell, in my lowest most paranoid moments, i've genuinely believed that my loved ones were replaced by shapeshifters. But i'm still here after all of that shit- so bring it on! Tbh, if i encountered the Stranger i'd probably ask to join it. It'd be nice if i could actually gain something from people's uneasiness around me. And the whole 'circus of the other' thing sounds like my childhood dreams come true, lmfao. 100% fuck yeah category material

fuck yeah

i ranked the tma fears from scariest to least scariest because i felt like it. no pressure but reblog with your rankings i wanna see!

oh god oh fuck

1. the corruption

2. the desolation

3. the hunt

4. the buried

5. the web

6. the extinction

7. the slaughter

8. the stranger

9. the dark

10. the flesh

11. the lonely

12. the eye

13. the end

14. the vast

15. the spiral

fuck yeah

tagging a couple of my moots if you wanna try :D

@encryptidarchivist @humanteethmarksonhumanbone @willdisappearintothelonely @styrofoamdoor @urnewsteppappa

[imagination-is-key-in-my-world]

Awkward Encounters

Authors Note: At first, I was going to write this as the reader being in Tessa’s perspective but then I thought that it would be too much of a copyright. There may be some similarities to the story but I have written Tessa in as a separate party. Tessa is still with Noah in this. Also, I will be referencing parts from both the movie and the novels. In this particular fanfiction Tristan is a girl, like the movie.

Summary: You are a freshman at college and your life there started pretty normally. Your best friend is Tristan who is dating Steph who is roommates with Tessa. That was until you went to a party with Tristan and the girls. You had no idea that the mysterious British boy was going to intervene when you come face to face with the Bitch that is Molly.

Warning: Swearing

Pairing: Reader x Hardin Scott

Word Count: 4,423

“Come on Tristan, I told you.” I moan. “I can’t go to another party; I am still recovering from the last one.” I cling to a cold compress, trying my best to shield my eyes from the light that is seeping in through the open door.

Tristan threw a pack of Ibuprofen onto my lap that she snooped around in my bag for. “If it’s that bad, take one of these and get your butt out of that bed.” I groan at the impact from the small box just for the effect. “Don’t be a baby and get up.”

I roll over on the bed to face the wall. “Can’t you just go with Steph?”

“No!” She abruptly spat out. “I want to go with you. Steph is bringing Tessa and I don’t want to show up alone.”

“But you will be with her when you’re there. What’s the point in me getting out of this lovely cocoon that I have made, just to walk you to the party?”

Tristan had her head bent over, pulling her hair into a high ponytail on the top of her head. “You know that what you just said was the whole point.” She sighed. “Everyone is going to stare at me when I walk in there all on my lonesome.”

I eyed the short revealing dress that she was pulling onto her petite and envious body. “You know everyone will be staring at you no matter what if you wear that.” I laugh. “Those legs are going to be the headliner for that party.”

Tristan winked at me and continued adding more accessories to her ever-growing ensemble. “That my dear naïve British friend is the goal of this outfit.” She dropped to her knees faster than I could pry open the antibiotic wrapper. Gripping onto my hand she pulled me away from my mission to rid the world of the swirling furniture before my very eyes. “Y/N, if you do not go, I will literally never talk to you ever again.”

I raised my eyebrow at the sight before me. “Is that a promise.” I bravely say.

“Y/N! Please!”

“Fine alright. Give me five minutes.” I surrender, using every ounce of strength that I had left to lift myself from my comfy nest. “But you owe me, big time.” Tristan’s arms were around my neck faster than I could respond. Her soft lips that I am sure Steph adores, pressed against my forehead.

“I love you so much Miss Y/L/N!” She squealed.

I let out a stiff laugh as I saunter off to the bathroom to sort whatever state I currently appeared to be in.

***

“You know, when you said that this was going to be a cool night for us both? When did I factor into the equation?” I scoff, lifting the red solo cup to my lips. The bitter taste made my stomach curl, but what was worse was not drinking around all these over-the-top drunk people.

Tristan was straddling Steph on the sofa by the side of me. These two did not understand the true definition of PDA and why some people may find it uncomfortable. Including myself.

I inch further down the sofa that was unsurprisingly very sticky. If I wasn’t feeling queasy when I turned up, I certainly felt it now. I try to distract myself from the fact that I had to peel my legs from the leather material just to cross them. The sound was very unflattering.

“Why are you in my seat?” I roll my eyes the minute I recognised the irritating voice that filled me with angst and hatred from across the room. Molly Samuels. Her whole presence just irritates me, and it appears that I am not the only one with this response. I gaze over to my left to see Tessa shaking her head at the general distaste she had for the girl. I lift my cup up to Tessa who shyly mimics. ‘To stuck up bitches, ay?’ I say to myself, quietly so that she couldn’t hear.

Molly pushed Zed Evans and his girlfriend for the night out of her shitty throne causing his date to land hard on her arse. I am sure it wasn’t the first time that Molly has done this to declare her ‘power’ to the whole room. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” The blonde cried as Zed attempted to pick her up from the floor which was soaked in alcohol.

“Does this brat literally think she can talk to me right now?” Molly scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Turning to her so-called friends for approval of her comment and actions.

“What did you just call me?” The poor young girl shook off Zed’s protective arm and stepped right in front of Molly’s nose. Probably not the best move, but I have always found that Molly needed taking down a peg or two.

“You heard me, loud and clear” She popped her tongue on the letter ‘l’ in loud. “A little slutty brat who thinks for a second that Zed will call her back after he fucks her tonight.” Molly’s teeth were snarling almost like a wild animal.

“At least I’m not a bitchy whore who thinks that everyone here is her friend.” There were a couple ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs’ almost as if we were at a panto and not a college party after Zed’s girl’s response.

The second Molly let the words register her hand was leaving that poor girl’s cheek, along with a bright red handprint in its place.

“What the fuck, Molly!” I heard the words clear as day, but I never in a million years imagined that they would come from my mouth. But there I was, standing right in front of Molly, shielding the young girl from another blast to the face.

I could hear people whispering behind my back. ‘What is she doing?’ ‘Is she stupid or something?’ ‘Does she not know what Molly is like?’ Despite being close friends with Tristan, I never would have expected her to step up to defend me, especially when Molly Samuels was involved. She stayed on Steph’s lap; eyes bugged open. Utterly frozen.

“Wow Y/N? Get involved in other people’s business much? Just because your life is too sad, you feel like you can insert yourself into other people’s.” I roll my eyes at her pathetic attempt to rattle me. “You’re just a sad little virgin that no body wants around. Tristan only invited you tonight for her own benefit. Just look around, you don’t fit in here.”

I stay silent. I may have only spoken up once tonight, but that was enough for me. Frat parties are my least favourite place to be. The only reason I came here tonight was for Tristan. I should have left the minute she started making out with the red-haired beauty.

“Cat got your tongue now, bitch.” Molly’s face was inches from mine and I choked on the strong aroma of alcohol on her breath. “Oh, wait I forgot, the girl doesn’t own a backbone.” There were a few stifled laughs here and there. Zed stayed silent, as did Tristan and Steph. None of them making the effort to stand up for me. “Let me guess. Tristan batted her big eyes at you and begged you to come tonight, didn’t she? Then ditched you the moment someone prettier came into the picture.”

I gulp back the bile that I knew had risen to the back of my throat. “Why don’t you go back to your dorm. Oh, better yet, get on a fucking plane and fly back to shitty England. We could only get lucky and hope the thing crashes with you inside it.”

“That’s enough Molly!” The voice behind me held a British twang similar to my own. A voice I had only heard about but never actually seen. The bad boy, Hardin Scott.

Hardin Scott was attractive. Since I got here, I knew he was the talk of the college. Everybody knew who he was and that he wasn’t good news. His white shirt displayed his various tattoos clearly through the thin and tight fabric. His black hair was pushed back to show his piercing eyes and anger set eyebrows. His eyes never left Molly who was stood behind me.

“Oh, Hardin you know I am only messing with the virgin.” She forces a small laugh. “It’s not like I can control the planes is it.” Her head tilts to the side as her gaze locks onto mine, only to intimidate. “I mean I wish I could.” She muttered so that only the people stood around her could hear.

“Do you ever know when to stop!” Hardin barks, not acknowledging me physically. “Do you ever think that you’re the one that people don’t want around?” He questions, moving slowly across the room. I hadn’t noticed but the volume of the once booming music had been lowered to a slight hum in the background.

Hardin was now stood right beside me glaring down at Molly who mimicked his stance. “Ding Ding. Come on guys let’s just drop it!” Nate calls over when he noticed their glares on each other were far from breaking.

Molly was the first to move. “You’re right Nate.” She coos. “Let’s play a game.” She scans the room of her so-called posy who all appeared to be done with her shit for the night. “It’s Friday night. We need to play a game. I will even let the little virgin here play along, too.”

I am very aware that all the eyes were now back on me.

This wasn’t something that I wanted to be a part of. It took me what felt like an eternity to move my feet across the room to where Tristan was sitting. “I am going to head back to the dorms.” I declare quietly to her, but I can tell that they are all listening.

“No please stay, it won’t be the same if you go.” Tristan reaches for my hand which I pull away.

I don’t know why I am letting Molly’s words sink in so much. Everybody who knows her knows that she is full of herself and couldn’t give a shit who she hurts.

“No, it’s late.” It was only nine. “And I have assignments that are due.” I lie, they are all finished. “I’ll see you back at the dorm.”

I start towards the door but I can hear Tristan calling after me to stay.

As I reach the front door to the frat house, I hear Molly’s voice loud and clear. “So, Hardin truth or dare?”

***

The walk back to the dorms was anything but peaceful. The cars were loud and honking at me as they passed. Classy.

I reach for my phone in my bag. I could do with tuning out the world for this half hour walk back in the dark. But my fingers only find a vibrant red lipstick that I couldn’t pull off in a million years.

I stop dead in my tracks. This was Steph’s bag; I grabbed the wrong one during my never-ending embarrassment.

I couldn’t go back, but I couldn’t go further either. Where was I supposed to go, Steph’s key wasn’t in here so it’s not like I could sleep in her room for the night. No cash, key or phone meant that I had no other choice. I had to suck it up and go back.

“Fuuuck!” I shout, not caring that I startled an elderly woman who was placing a rubbish bag in her bin just outside her front door.

“Not a very ladylike thing to say.” I hear a mocking chuckle behind me causing me to jump out of my skin.

When I turn around, I am greeted by the tall British bad boy covered in ink standing about 6 foot in front of me.

His head cocks to the side when I don’t answer him. “You don’t say much, do you?” My eyes scan over his attire, black ripped jeans, white top, and a jet-black leather jacket. “But you do stare a lot, don’t you?” That British chuckle makes it’s second appearance tonight.

“What do you want?” I blurt out, shaking my head at the fact that I was indeed caught staring at the boy.

He steps a little closer to me, closing the gap between us ever so slowly. I watch in amazement at how sexy he makes walking look. “You left this at the party.” I hadn’t realised that he had extended his hand to reveal a clutch bag. My clutch bag.

“Oh!” I speak. “Thanks.” I take the bag from him and prepare myself for the walk back.

“Don’t take any notice of Molly. She is a bitch.”

“Yep.” I chip in, turning to walk back towards the college dorm rooms.

I only get a few steps ahead when I feel a cold sensation wrap around my bare arm. Why the fuck didn’t I bring a coat? I gaze down at the hand that is pressed to my skin. “Where are you going?” He softly says. His tone and action were not at all forceful but something about him made me shiver with fear deep inside the pit of my stomach. I was warned about Hardin Scott. Tristan said that he wasn’t exactly good news around her group of friends. Acting with his fists before connecting his words, that’s what she said at least.

“H-Home.” I stutter, half from the interaction, half from how fucking cold it was. I straighten up. “I am going home.”

“Alone?” He jumps in straight away.

I don’t answer. I just look back at his hand around my arm.

“S-sorry.” He stutters, removing his hand from my arm. “It’s just it’s a long way back to the dorms and it is late.”

I shrug my shoulders at his declaration. “I know.” I simply say and start to walk again but I am blocked by the gorgeous boy standing in front of me. “Oh fuck, you’re not going to kill me, are you?”

“No of course not!” He blurts.

“Good! Now could you” I gesture to the fact that he is stood directly in my path. He catches on to my hint and steps aside.

“You’re not going to walk there alone, are you?” His voice sounding desperate.

I spin and mockingly look around for people, lifting my hand to shield my eyes as I continue my search. This provokes a choked sigh from Hardin. Once I am satisfied with my ‘search’ I say “yep” and continue to walk.

“But it is late.” He chimes in again walking backwards trying desperately not to break my gaze as I try desperately to avoid his. “And you’re alone.”

“Yes, we have established this.” I mock, glaring at the stoned pavement or sidewalk ahead of me.

Hardin reaches both hands out in front of himself creating a wall which stops me from taking another step. “What is your problem?”

I take a step back, alarmed at his outburst. “My problem. You’re the one who has continuously blocked my way for the past ten minutes.” I bark. I try to move around him but he doesn’t budge, copying my actions to stay ahead of me.

“I am trying to offer my services.” Hardin exclaimed but then scowled at his choice of words. I too have a hard time accepting the word ‘services.’ Just as I go to argue he opens his mouth. “Fuck that’s not what I meant to say.” His hands instantly dart to push his hair back out of his face. A nervous tick I assume. What did he have to be nervous about? He is the one stalking after college girls at half 9 at night.

“Look can we start over?” He offers shoving his hands into his jacket. My arms promptly raise to cover my bare arms where goosebumps have started to form. Why didn’t I bring a jacket? “Could I possibly walk you back to the dorms?” His eyes dropped to the ground to stare at a pebble that he toyed with his shoe. Was he anxious?

“Why?” I question fairly quickly.

“I just want to make sure that you get back safe!” His tone wasn’t very friendly. I cock my head to one side. “Sorry, that came out bad.” His tone softening. “I just didn’t like the way that Molly spoke to you earlier and I also hate the fact that you would be walking back in this sketchy neighbourhood alone.”

“Fine.”

***

We walk all the way back to the dorms in silence. Hardin looked uncomfortable the entire time as if he were being forced to be here. I sure as hell did not make him.

I pull the key from my bag and slot it into the lock on the door. Pushing the door slightly open I stand with my arms still draped across my shivering body in the doorway. “Well, thanks for walking me back and bringing me my bag.”

Hardin didn’t budge. His eyes were locked on my body, traveling from my legs to my face. His face turned a shade of white when his eyes caught up to mine. “Fuck!” He announced.

“What!” I jump at his sudden change in demeaner.

“Your lips.” He gestures to my trembling lips that haven’t stopped shaking since I stepped outside of the frat house. “They are fucking blue!” Panic surges over him as he rakes his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t you say you were cold?” He started passing back and fourth in front of me.

“There wasn’t much you could do.” I counter. “My own stupid fault for not bringing a coat.”

I walk inside the room and grab a jacket and throw it on over my shaking body. Hardin enters after me and grabs my hand carefully. “Fuck lot that will do.” He picks up a towel and drags me back down the hallway.

I try to pull my arm back but it is no use. “Where the hell are you taking me?” I say a little too loud. Silently cursing myself if I may have woken up any of the other students living down this dorm.

“The showers now come on.” He tugs a little harder as his feet guide me towards the shared bathroom just a few floors down from my own.

As we reach the bathroom, Hardin throws the towel over the railing and reaches in to turn on the water. I couldn’t help but watch his every move. “Get in!” He cries. Gesturing to the box that was filling with tempting hot steam.

I hesitate. “Y/N, get in the fucking shower.” I jump, not at his tone. But at the fact that he used my name. How did he even know it? Oh right, he was at the party when Molly was insulting me. “If you don’t start undressing now, I will have to start doing it for you.”

I raise an eyebrow but decline his offer, stepping into the box and pulling the curtain across to shield my naked body.

***

Hardin was right, I needed that shower. I hadn’t realised how cold I had gotten from that walk home. I stood in that shower for what felt like half the evening.

I shut off the water and begin to pull the curtain slightly across so that I could reach for the towel that Hardin had placed on the rail when Hardin’s hand slips through holding the towel between his fingers.

“Thanks.” I mutter, draping it around my soaking body.

I step out to find that Hardin’s hair has dropped and started to stick to his forehead in places from the steam. His eyes dart up and down my body, quietly.

I am the first one to break the silence as we stand there in the shared bathroom. “So, I should um, probably get back to my room.”

I watch as Hardin lets my words break him from his still stance. “Yeah, um, after you.” He holds his arm out and follows me out of the bathroom. Something has shifted in Hardin. Tonight, I have seen him; angry, intimidating, shy, solemness and lost for words. It was a lot to take in during a short period of time.

I open the dorm door and step inside. When I hear the door shut, I jump and almost drop the towel. “Shit, sorry I didn’t mean for the door to shut so loudly.” He curses under his breath.

“It’s okay.” I mutter. I cling to the towel as I stare back at Hardin who hasn’t moved or made any effort to leave.

“Y/N?” Hardin’s voice softer than ever tonight, bringing my eyes to meet his. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What do you mean?” My words coming out slowly. His head dropped to face the floor. Was he trying to count the flecks of glitter on the carpet from Tristan’s body butter or something?

“Why didn’t you say that you were cold?” I roll my eyes, this again. Crossing my arms over my stomach.

“Like I said, there wasn’t anything you could have-”

“I could have given you my jacket.” He interjects. Taking a step closer to me. His body was merely a foot away from mine.

“But then you would have been the one with the blue lips.” I counter. Tilting my head to the side in a modest challenging manner.

This stirred something within Hardin, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I know that he isn’t used to a woman not agreeing with every word that comes out of his mouth.

I suddenly shake my head as I feel a slight chill spread up my back. I am still in my towel and now I am very much aware of that. Quickly I turn away from his locked-on gaze.

“Can I have some privacy please.” I mumble, not able to turn around to face him. “I need to, uh, get changed.” I add.

Hardin lets out a small grunt but eventually I do hear the click of my dorm-room door close. I don’t know why but I feel a shed of disappointment at the fact that he listened and actually left.

It takes my hands what feels like hours to release the tight grip that I held on to the towel. Allowing it to fall onto the floor.

“You know what-” I hear the click of the door and his voice fill my ears. I jump from my spot in the middle of the room. He doesn’t finish the sentence, instead Hardin slams the door behind him. “Fuck!” His eyes firm but glued on my body.

I quickly try to grab the towel up off the floor, but it is no use. Hardin instantly placed his foot over the soggy material. “Don’t.” He lets that one word fall from his lips as he slowly continues to decrease the distance between us.

“Hardin!” I shout. “Give-” I can’t finish my argument as I find his finger is placed over the top of my lips.

Hardin doesn’t speak, he just shakes his head. His soft hand moves from my lips and trails off to my cheek, holding me in place. My eyes locked onto his own, frozen in place. I watch as his eyes bounce from my own to my lips, seeking permission. His other hand snaked its way around and laid itself on the small of my back, pulling my naked body closer to his.

I was completely thrown off by the audacity of my body responding to his touch, bringing me to him. Everything happened in slow motion from the second we were back in my room. I knew that Hardin was trouble, everybody did. But no one actually prepares you for a moment like this. Where you are stood in front of a gorgeous guy whose whole attention you own. Did I say he was gorgeous?

I shake my head breaking the eye contact trance I was in. “Har-”

“You’re so beautiful.” He interrupts, breaking right through the barrier I was desperately trying to build. Correction, he shattered the wall to pieces and I find myself pushing my lips aggressively against his, hungry for the contact.

It takes him a second to return the haste in my actions within his own. Moving his lips to mimic the speed that I had set for him. It took no time at all for that jacket that he kept holding over me for not taking since we got back to the room to be thrown onto the floor, revealing the crisp white T-shirt underneath.

His hand wandered lower to lay slightly above my bare arse. While my hands slithered up underneath his shirt. Desperate to feel the skin underneath and to trace the ink that it held. The hand that rested on my cheek now held tightly to the back of my neck making it impossible to break the kiss, not that I wanted to.

I could stay like this forever, kissing Hardin has awoken something inside me that I didn’t even know existed. This overwhelming hunger for his contact. I tug a little on the hair on the back of his head which in response summoned a deep growl from Hardin that I didn’t think I was prepared to hear. Any sense of doubt that we should stop kissing left my mind the second I heard that sound.

“Y/N? You would not believe what you missed after-” Tristan stood in the open doorway, her mouth held open just as wide.

Fuck. I jump back from Hardin and scramble for the towel, concealing my naked form from my roommate. I look over to Hardin who didn’t look at all affected by the events in the last ten seconds.

“I can tell your busy so I will just, yeah.” Tristan steps back and shuts the door behind her.

I run into the closet and quickly throw on a set of underwear and a long-oversized shirt that came down to lie just beneath my arse. “I think it’s about time I start locking that door.” I joke as I step through the closet door.

My eyes roam the room for the handsome boy I was just making out with only to be greeted with an empty room. My shoulders fall, “I guess that’s goodbye.” I mumble, trying my best to hold myself together. Locking the door before falling onto my bed.

Part 2?

[relaxxattack]

okay this is prob au/ooc bc it’s banking on jackie knowing ran wants to kill him and thinking it’s funny when he fails but here u go (if I cuts off i’ll send the rest of it. also I’m on my phone and not checking for typos sorry)

Jackie jumps up to sit on the bench, leaving Ran to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. The general is talking about something. And Ran should really be listening, but all he can think about is how much this one person is ruining his life. If he goes back to Terminus a failure what then? The delays are already had enough.

He snaps out of it when he hears his name being called. And Jackie is gesturing for him to come closer so he does. He tries to leave a respectable gap between them - most people don’t like having their personal space crowded (Ran included). But Jackie frowns, drags him closer, and then frowns again.

“What the hell! You’re still so much taller than me.”

“Maybe you should try standing up.” Ran suggests, painfully aware of the fact Jackie’s hand hasn’t left his wrist. “Although I don’t see how it’ll help your ego if you need to stand on a bench to be taller than me.”

Jackie laughs, and finally lets go of Ran’s wrist. Only to loop his arms loosely around Ran’s neck. What. “You’re lucky you’re so cute because that was really rude.”

And he doesn’t have anything to say to that so he doesn’t respond. He’s sure that at any moment, Jackie will release him and go back to talking about whatever. But Jackie seems content. And Ran is quickly growing uncomfortable by how much he feels the same.

This is an opportunity, he reminds himself suddenly. He’s close enough to his target to reach his back. And the knife hidden up his sleeve means he won’t draw suspicion when getting it into his hand. All he needs to do is lean forward slightly to rest his hands on the bench behind Jackie.

So he does. He hoped to make it a casual shifting of pose. But he’s close enough to hear Jackie’s sharp intake of breath so he pulls back. Surely Jackie suspects him. There’s no other explanation for it. He didn’t think the general would be smart enough to interpret such a subtle movement as a threat. But he supposes Jackie was an assassin as well.

But when Jackie unloops his arms from around Ran’s neck, he doesn’t shove him away. He slides on hand down to hold his shoulder, and the other up to cup his cheek.

Oh.

Slowly, giving Ran more than enough time to move away, Jackie drags him down so their faces are almost level. (It forces him to put his hands behind Jackie on the bench, but that barely registers in his mind.) Jackie stops just before their lips touch.

And Ran will never admit this to anyone - not even himself - but he’s the one that closes the distance. It’s a short kiss. That’s the excuse his jumbled mind provides him for not taking advantage of his potion and Jackie’s distraction to complete his mission. It’s a short kiss, but they only barely pull away from each other. Jackie’s eyes are still closed and there’s a soft smile on his face.

Ran desperately tries to collect his thoughts. He has never wanted to complete a mission less. Because Jackie’s touch burns in the best way possible and he doesn’t want to ever move. And that scares him more than anything.

He could go in for another kiss. Now that he knows what’s happening. He can approach it calm and collected, and he won’t be too distracted by the shock of it to complete his job. He can finally be rid of the whirlwind force that is General Jackie, who spins around him and leaves him disorientated at every moment.

He leans in again, and forces himself to focus on the cool metal of his knife in his hand. It’s an easy angle straight to his heart. If Ran was perhaps less focused on not being distracted by the kiss, he’d be able to note how poetic it is.

He kisses Jackie, and feels his knife skate off Jackie’s armour. The armour that Ran didn’t realise he was wearing due to his layers of clothing effectively concealing it. Jackie laughs a little into the kiss when it happens. And there’s no way he hasn’t been found out now. The hand on his cheek disappears, only to reappear around his wrist. Where Jackie must press some nerve or something because Ran’s hand spasms and the knife clatters to the bench.

The smile on Jackie’s face would almost be cruel if Ran thought the general was capable of such a thing. But surely smiling in the face of his failure is cruel no matter how soft it looks.

“You’re going to have to try a bit harder than that.” Jackie murmurs. And they’re still so close that Ran can practically feel the words against his lips.

He’s so sure that this is the end. That Jackie will shove him away and call for the guards so he can be jailed and executed. Or pick up the knife and kill Ran himself. And he should be running. He should be trying to make a hasty escape. Which is something he wasn’t even considering in his desperation to finally be done with this.

He hadn’t checked to see if Jackie was unarmoured and unarmed. He hadn’t planned his escape route. Jackie has disorientated him so thoroughly that he may as well be a novice at this.

If he runs now, he’ll go back to Terminus a failure. But at least he’ll be alive. And he can pass off whatever knowledge he’s gathered in his stay here to the council so they can finally finish the job.

But he’s frozen in place.

Jackie pushes him back enough to so that he can jump off the bench. Ran feels inexplicably cold now that Jackie’s no longer touching him.

“You’re lucky you’re handsome.” Jackie is grinning, as though he didn’t just thwart an assassination attempt from someone he was kissing. “Let’s go get dinner tomorrow night, yeah?”

Ran takes a step back and forces his brain to start back up again. He’s half convinced that he made the whole thing up due to Jackie’s strange reaction. But the knife is still sitting on the bench.

“Okay.” He says. Because he’s simply not sure what else to say.

“Um, I don’t really have a time preference. 6pm sound good to you?”

“Sure.”

“Or, if we hang out during the day doing investigation work or whatever else then we can just go whenever we’re hungry.” Jackie shrugs. “Doesn’t need to be a fancy event.”

“If you say so.”

“Great!” Jackie grins and makes an excited motion with his hands. “It’s a date! See you tomorrow!”

The general gives him a lazy salute, and then practically skips out of the room. Leaving Ran to stand there and try to process what just happened.

He’ll have to go back to his room and figure out what to do now that Jackie knows for sure he’s trying to kill him. He’ll have to figure out if dinner is some obscure play to trap him, or whether Jackie is really just stupid enough to let this slide.

(The best and safest solution, is for Ran to just leave. But for reasons he can’t and won’t explain, he pushes that thought away.)

THIS IS SO GOOD HELLO. ITS LIKE. FUCKED UP AND I AM SO INTERESTED. JACKIE IS DEFINITELY FUCKED UP LIKE THAT LIKE I THINK LIKE THIS SEEMS LIKE SOMETHING HED DO.

[kireijae]

i.o.u- l.dh

summary: a late night adventure with Haechan, your older brother’s best friend, leads you to confront your feelings for him.

genre: non idol au, fluff, tiny bit of angst if you squint, technically a college au as well, also kind of comedy but i’m not very funny

word count: 4,029

warnings: swearing and there’s a slightly steamy makeout scene, also like the implied use of weed but it’s a v small one i promise.

a/n: eee my first hyuckie imagine! i worked really hard on this so i hope you all like iittt! please leave feedback if you can! also this was edited at 10:55pm and i’m exhausted so there are probably mistakes-

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Your eyes scanned the street from your place on the sidewalk. The streets glistened under the streetlights with the rainwater that had fallen earlier. The cool breeze was refreshing against your skin, unlike the musty air you’d been swamped with in the party upstairs. The smoke and the presence of so many strangers had nearly left you gasping for air.

You checked your phone for any messages from your brother, eager to get as far away from the party as possible, but as soon as your phone unlocked you heard a honk from the street, which pulled your head up.

There was a black car pulled up right ahead, your heart picked up its pace when the tinted window sunk down low enough to reveal Haechan. His hair was a light brown, somehow still shiny even though you’d seen him with at least three different hair colours in the past two months. His skin was glowing too- even under the subpar car light.

“Y/n!” he had to yell to be heard over the scraping sound of the cars, “Taeil sent me to pick you up!”

You dropped your shoulders from their tensed position, pushing down your feelings and stepping forward to open the car door and get inside. The car smelled like Haechan: men’s shower gel and a faint woodsy scent.

“Where’s my brother?” you turned to him, genuine confusion curved into your brows.

“What? Am I not good enough?” Haechan asked, placing a hand on his chest and feigning offence.

You shook your head at him, used to his antics by now. He’d been best friends with your brother since preschool, always there at family gatherings and lazing around your house on most weekends.

“Well, when I asked my brother to come pick me up I sort of expected him to pick me up,” you said it slowly, matching his teasing with your own. Things with him always fell into a rhythm like this, after the initial anxiety of being around someone you had feelings for left, snarky comments bounced back and forth like a ping pong ball between the two of you. 

“Okay, fair point,” he said, starting the car, “He’s still busy with that essay. Apparently it’s due in like twenty minutes or something. So, since I’m such a good friend I offered to pick you up.”

“Haechan, before I left you were the reason he wasn’t doing any work,” you scoffed, refusing to let his ego inflate- even for a minute.

“That’s not true! He was on a break!” he whined, eyes wide at the accusation but his gaze still directed towards the road.

“For three hours?”

“Yes,” he said, matter of factly with a nod of his head, “Rest is important.”

“Whatever,” you said, “Just take me home.” 

“I actually have to do something else for Taeil, too,” he didn’t take his eyes off the road, they were glinting from the neon signs that lined the buildings on the street outside. The streetlights made the skin of his hands glow in passing, creating a hypnotic rhythm of light and dark over his skin.

“Can you not drop me off first?” you knew the answer even before you asked- he was going to make you go with him. And you were going to give in.

“Please?!” he whined again, plush bottom lip drooping in a pout, “It’s pretty far and I hate being alone!”

Sighing, you asked, “Where is it?”

“Johnny’s house…” He trailed off, expecting an outburst to come from you at the distance you’d have to drive.

You couldn’t believe you were considering this. Johnny’s house was on the other side of the city and you were already tired out from the party you’d spent only half an hour at. But, something in you wanted to stay. The thought of spending some time with someone outside your friend group seemed refreshing and the fact that it was Haechan was even more enticing.

You turned your head to look out the tinted window at the buildings passing by you in a blur, “Fine,” you sighed, “but you owe me.”

He grinned, his full cheeks jutting out further, and made a sharp turn in the opposite direction of your apartment. Your body swayed at the sudden change in direction and you held onto the side of the seat instinctually. Haechan was a good driver- but a slightly wreckless one at that.

After a few moments he turned on the radio, tossing you his phone, “Put some music on.”

Looking through his phone, you weren’t surprised at the extensive collection of music he had on his Spotify- most of the songs were new ones you hadn’t heard of before. Others were old throwback songs from the 2000’s and your mouth turned up into a smile at the sight of Shinee’s ‘Replay.’

You pressed play and leaned back in your seat, grin even bigger now. You waited for his reaction, which came in the form of a wave of laughter. 

“Oh, fuck,” he said, barely able to speak from laughter, “Remember when Lucas danced to this at your sleepover party?”

“Of course I remember that, he ruined the song for me forever,” you laughed along with him.

Your smile turned into a grimace at his next question though, “What ever happened to Lucas- actually to that whole group of friends? I never see them anymore.”

“Drifted apart,” you mumbled. You truly wished there was more to say than that. You wished you could say you tried to stay in touch when you went to university but couldn’t; or that something huge had happened that couldn’t be fixed. That wasn’t the truth, though. You hadn’t done anything- nothing that made them leave and nothing that made them stay.

Haechan sensed the tension around the topic and let the conversation fade, hoping the sense of unease would dissipate with it.

When the next song was over, Haechan came to a stop at a gas station, “Want anything?” he asked, pulling up the handbrake and taking the keys out of the ignition. The car practically fell down to the road beneath it as the power was turned off.

“I don’t have any money on me,” you raised your empty hands.

“So you don’t want any of those gross gummy bears you like? Or a soda?” he raised his perfectly shaped eyebrow at you, “I’ll buy them for you.”

“I’ll take the gummy bears if they have any,” you said gratefully, and he got out of the car and went into the shop.

You thought about your earlier conversation with Haechan- about how much you missed your friends. The way they’d joke around with you and tease you lightheartedly about anything and everything. A year ago you would have nearly exploded at the idea of being alone with Haechan at all- let alone for this long- and they would have teased you about it for weeks. Somehow though, those friendships faded. You went to a different university to them, you paid attention to your studies and spent more time at home than you ever had. The only contact you had with other people being with fellow students between lectures and at home with your brother and his friends.

“I got you the biggest packet they had,” came Haechan’s voice through the open window, “and the peach soda you like.”

You smiled at him, thankful that he’d brought you out of your thoughts and thankful for the snacks, “I could kiss you.” 

“Mm? Then by all means please do,” his signature shit eating grin was plastered on his face. 

Your cheeks heated up visibly at that, though you hoped the poor lighting in the car hid the fact. You hit him in the chest with the back of your hand and he doubled over in fake agony, the canned coffee he bought falling to the ground.

“Awh,” he groaned, continuing his act. 

“Oh please,” you said, rolling your eyes, “Just start the car, Hyuck.” 

“I can’t. My pride- it’s bruised,” he held onto his stomach and shook his head, eyes screwed shut.

Before you could stop yourself you leaned over and pressed your lips to his cold cheek in a hasty kiss.

“There,” you tried your hardest not to show your surprise at your own actions, “Better?”

He perked up, back pin straight, eyes wide and a huge smile on his face, “Very much so, yes.”

Before you could do anything, he started the car. A smirk struggled its way onto his face despite his efforts to stop it and his cheeks became a beautiful pink colour. His sudden shyness made yours deflate slightly and you felt your heart and cheeks warm at the thought of your effect on him.

“Hey,” he said suddenly after a few moments, “Hand me one of those gummies.”

He held out his hand, the skin pulled tightly over his slender, outstretched fingers. When you didn’t make a move to place one of the sweets in his hand, he made a grabbing motion with his fingers. That brought you out of your weird staring stupor and prompted you to grab a few gummy bears from the packet to place in his hand, hoping he hadn’t noticed your weird hand staring moment.

He shoved all six of the sweets into his mouth at once, face scrunching up in disgust, “These really are terrible,” his words distorted by the gummies in his mouth.

“Then why’d you ask for them?” you looked over to him, your mouth pulled into a smile and your brows furrowed at his actions. Your cheeks were starting to hurt- they always did after spending so much time with him.

“I forgot they were that bad,” when he came to a stop at a red light he shook his body as if it would rid his mouth of the flavour. 

The rest of the drive to Johnny’s house was filled with more laughter and sneaky comments thrown back and forth. There were fewer cars on the road the longer you drove and the movement of the car seemed to calm you.

In the driveway of Johnny’s parents’ house, Haechan turned to you once again, “Are you gonna come in?” 

You nodded and got out with him, you’d never actually been in Johnny’s house- since most of them still lived with their parents, Taeil’s friends usually came over to your shared apartment.

Johnny opened the door even before you got to it and ushered both of you inside, you assumed Haechan and texted him when you stopped.

“You guys have to be quiet,” he said, without even a ‘hello’, “My mom and dad are sleeping and they were in a shitty mood earlier.”

“Hey,” you asked quietly, grabbing Johnny’s attention, “Where’s the bathroom?”

“Right through that door,” he pointed behind you and you went in.

You went to the sink to wash your hands, they were sticky from the sweets you’d had in the car. Along with the sound of the water spilling into the sink, you heard Johnny and Haechan’s voices through the thin walls- so much for being quiet.

“You two finally together or something?” 

“Huh? No. Listen-”

“Dude, you’ve had a crush on them since forever, how have neither of you said anything?”

Your eyes widened at those words and you felt the blood in your face sink down to your heart. You turned off the tap and put your cold hands on your neck, before wiping them on a towel.

“Listen,” his voice was as stern as it could be, though it broke a bit at the end of the word, “Did you find Taeil’s textbook: yes or no?”

You heard a chuckle that had to be Johnny’s, “Alright I’ll go get it- by the way-”

His sentence was interrupted by you coming out of the bathroom.

“Did I interrupt something?” you asked in a tone that you hoped came off as joking. 

“I need a favour,” Johnny said, ignoring your words and leaving the room for a few seconds to find the textbook Haechan had been so adamant about getting. He came back, textbook in one hand along and a dark piece of material in the other, “Jaehyun left his hoodie here, can you get it to him, please?”

You yawned, taking the textbook when he handed it to you, “Why can’t you do it?”

“My parents won’t let me use the car after I locked the keys inside it last week,” he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment as he said it, words falling pathetically to the carpeted floor.

“And why can’t Jaehyun come get his own damn-” you were cut off by Haechan.

“Okay we’ll do it, but-” he took the black hoodie from Johnny, who was looking up at Haechan with his head still bowed. He pointed a finger at him, “-you owe me,” then pointed the same finger at you, “And I owe you.”

“Twice!” you said as he pulled you by the hand towards the front door. You both said your goodbyes to a smiling Johnny and got back in Hyuck’s car. Little raindrops had appeared on the windscreen since you’d gone inside.

“I swear after this I’ll take you home,” you smiled at him at that, letting him know it didn’t bother you. 

The car began moving again, 90’s RnB playing softly in the background and soon the rain got heavier, bulbous drops hitting the car. Jaehyun’s apartment was only a few minutes away from Johnny’s, in a highrise building lined with silver, glittering windows. 

“His parents are loaded,” said Haechan when he noticed your eyes trying to see the top of the building through the rain clouds above.

“Please tell me he’s not on the top floor,” you whined as Haechan parked the car.

He got out before you and you heard a satisfied sigh echo through the undercover parking.

“I’m so fucking good at this,” he said, hands on his hips, standing behind the car. 

You got out and shut the door, walking over skeptically to see what he was talking about. 

“Perfect,” he said, gesturing to his car in the parking space.

He was right- the car was perfectly in the centre of the two white lines. You huffed out a laugh at him and his ego, handing him the hoodie he’d apparently forgotten about, “Alright, I get it , you can park a car. Can we go inside now?”

“Hey, you’re lucky you get to witness a master operating that vehicle! Maybe observing me will help you actually pass next time,” he leaned his head over to you while he was walking, his tone was cocky and he had a sly smile on his face.

You flicked him on the forehead between the fluffy strands of hair that lay there and he yelped while you said, “Fuck off that test is rigged.” 

“First of all- not true. Second- why the fuck did you flick me?!” he yelled before you came to the automated glass door of the lobby.

In front of you stood two marble pillars in the middle of the room that twisted all the way up to the ceiling. Beyond them was a chandelier, jewels dangling over a seating area, where lush white couches stood. They looked as if no one had ever laid a hand on them on them and the plants that littered the room looked so real you had to touch one to be sure of the material. 

“You were being an ass,” you answered simply after taking in the room.

You followed Hyuck over to the elevator, the sound of your footsteps seemed to have a mind of their own, you swore you could hear them walking up the walls and across the ceiling.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, a group of people around the same age as you stampeded into the lobby and then the elevator. All of them dressed in glittering clothes and bright, shining makeup. One of them had eyelids full of pastel glitter and another had a coat made out of fluffy white feathers. 

You all crowded into the elevator, you and Haechan unfortunately squeezed right into the back corner of the metal box.

“What floor are you two headed to?” asked a man who was in the highest heels you’d ever seen in your life.

“The top floor!” Haechan basically had to throw his voice over the glittering heads of the other people.

You groaned at his words and felt the elevator start moving. When you’d asked to get picked up from a party you hadn’t expected to be shoved between Haechan and a girl with rhinestones on every inch of her dress instead. You’d left the party to get away from people, not to get pressed up against them.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and turned to the girl. “You two dating?” she asked, blue eyes lingering on Haechan’s face.

“Uh n-” you began, but Hyuck spoke over you.

“Not yet- I’m working on that,” he said smoothly and winked at you, which made your heart begin to push against your chest rather violently. 

“Too bad,” she said as the doors to the elevator slide open to the fourth floor, “you’re cute.” She winked at you and walked out with the rest of the group, their heels and accessories clinking down the hallway. 

You stood in shock from having been flirted with twice in the span of thirty seconds, not realising that you were still pressed against Haechan. 

“Y/n~” he said in a sing-song voice, dragging your eyes away from the spot you’d been staring at.

“Sorry!” you said a bit too loudly, moving to dart off him. Hyuck, however, held you to his side, only stepping forward to press the button for the top floor again with his index finger, holding Jaehyun’s now crinkled hoodie with his other fingers.

“Just needed to press the button again- it resets sometimes,” he said, stepping back into his place, “You okay?”

“Were you being serious? About ‘working on’ dating me?” the words came out quickly. Your voice was smaller than you thought it would be and it carried an air of surprise- which it shouldn’t have, since you’d heard him and Johnny talking earlier, but it felt more real now.

His brown eyes glided across your face, he seemed to be exploring every option he could in his mind. Lips pulled close to his teeth and eyes wide, before he leaned in and kissed you. 

He tasted like the canned coffee he’d had and mint and the second you tasted that combination on his lips you couldn’t pull away. He placed his hands on your waist and pulled you flush against him, your arms flung over his shoulders. The kiss heated up fast, his hands gripping at you to try to pull you even closer, your fingers threading through his hair, shaky sighs and satisfied hums filling the elevator. 

Just as you both pulled away for air, the doors opened on the floor seven levels down from where Jaehyun’s apartment was. An old couple appeared immediately and stepped into the elevator. You took a step to the side to get away from Hyuck, but stood on the hoodie Haechan had apparently dropped. You picked it up, holding it in front of you with both hands.

“I told you it was the wrong floor,” said the woman, closing her eyes in annoyance.

You tried your best to look presentable as they bickered, straightening your shirt and wiping at your mouth with the back of your hand. Hyuck did the same, combing his hands through his hair and adjusting his jeans. Once the reality of the situation sunk in for the both of you, it became hard to even look at each other without laughing. You had to pretend to yawn in order to hide your smile and Haechan pulled his lips between his teeth to literally bite his own smile back. 

Once the couple got out on their floor (still one below the top), you and Hyuck fell into laughter, with him literally falling to the floor on hands and knees. You leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator and laughed in silent breaths and funny hiccoughing sounds. Soon, the door opened and you gathered yourself as much as you could before you helped Haechan up off the floor. Halfway down the rows of apartment doors you and Haechan had calmed down, the mix of embarrassment, tension and perhaps a bit of tiredness having died down. 

The hallway was carpeted and filled with the muffled sound of music coming from one of the residents on the floor. Your heart nearly dropped when Haechan stopped in front of the door from which you were sure the music was coming. 

He pulled out his phone and, not letting go of your hand which he had been holding onto since you helped him up, texted Jaehyun. A few seconds later, the door opened to Jaehyun, who seemed half asleep as he leaned on the doorframe. You were glad the mood of the apartment seemed to be the opposite of a houseparty. 

“Yeah?” he blinked slowly, eyes slightly red.

Haechan snorted at Jaehyun’s state- because he was most definitely in one- “Johnny asked us to bring you this,” he pointed to the hoodie- which was now completely crinkled and had a dirt mark on it- which you held out to him.

Jaehyun took the hoodie, not even looking at it. He looked between the two of you, his gaze falling down to your intertwined hands, “Fuck you, Haechan,” he said, head tilting back in annoyance, “Now I owe Johnny ₩10,000.”

“What?!” Haechan’s jaw dropped

“I have a bet with Johnny,” he said, yawning halfway through and leaning his head on the doorframe, “And I just lost.”

“How long have you had this bet?!” Haechan sounded genuinely betrayed.

“About 15 minutes,” he said nonchalantly, moving his hair out of his face, only for it to fall right back where it was.

That had you confused, “What was the bet?”

“That you two would get your shit together by the time you got here,” Hyuck scoffed and looked away in disbelief, tongue in his cheek, “Oh and I think Taeil owes Taeyong money now, too.”

Right then, your phone chimed with a message from the gambling brother in question and you opened it while the two boys argued about Hyuck himself not being in on any of the bets.

the youngest: hey, can u guys bring milk? its finished :/

you: sighs alright 

you: btw apparently you owe taeyong money now xx :)

You locked your phone before you could see his reaction and slid it back into your pocket. You turned to Hyuck again and sighed, “Taeil needs milk,” you stated incredulously.

He raised his eyebrows, “Okay now he owes both of us. And this isn’t over- next time there’s a bet I want in,” he said frowning at the older boy like a little kid.

The two of you said goodbye to Jaehyun, who kicked the door closed behind him, and returned to the car once again.

“Were we both really that obvious?” you asked as you clipped in your seatbelt.

“I don’t know about you but I was really good at hiding it,” his smug- and obviously sarcastic- tone made you cackle.

“Yeah that’s why Johnny knew you’ve liked me ‘since forever,’” you said, quoting the words you’d heard through the bathroom wall. 

His eyes widened so much you thought they’d come tumbling out of their sockets, “You heard that?” his gaze was switching rapidly between you and the road now.

You smirked at him and nodded simply.

“By the way,” Haechan’s voice was a bit croaky now, after all it was nearing 3am, “You will go out with me right? Like tomorrow night?” 

“Of course,you owe me two actually,” you didn’t have the energy to tease him further, your eyelids were practically dragging themselves across your eyes.

The last thing you saw before you fell asleep was Haechan’s flushed cheeks and the giant smile on his face.

i just remembered you asked for a tag o-O @infnteen sorry for the late one!

if anyone else wants to be tagged in my works please lmk!:)

if you enjoyed this, buy me a ko-fi!

© copyright jewelledtae 2021, all rights reserved

[luvknow]

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.

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

the wolf should’ve been afraid of me.

Titans 3.04

just under the wire! ... i hope.

like with the previous review, i’m typing this up as i see the episode. here we go!

spoilers ahead.

1. ... well. that was an interesting cold open.

1.25. i don’t know whether to admire this show’s restraint when it comes to gotham and its excesses, particularly arkham asylum. it’d be easy to go hammer and tongs, like suicide squad (2016) did, or any number of bat media did, at a tropey, colourful~~insanity~~ that can be quite damaging, casting mental illness in strangeness and criminality. it definitely shows gotham as... separate from the rest of the country, its own ecosystem of heroes and villains, a sort of rogue state. 

but that ecosystem is still human, with its heroes needing to clip parts of themselves away just to survive, growing old and needing to be recycled, its villains languishing in the same kinds of systems that fail everybody else who needs to be helped. it’s a quieter, tenser sort of wrongness: not strange enough that you can dissociate, but not close enough that you can completely empathise. gotham is its own creature.

1.5. i know that the reasoning behind this is more doylist than anything, but i’m so glad that joker was killed off with little fanfare right at the start of the season. he is the one man in the batverse that’s transcended its confines as this sort of ethereal boogeyman/eternal edgelord and to justify his presence in the series would mean giving him this tired, overblown importance and too much of a stab at colourful, tropey “madness” in this otherwise-subdued series. i wish all batmedia would follow suit and get rid of this fucker.

1.75. so jason is bucking scarecrow’s control! or reminding him of who exactly holds all the cards right now. circling back to what i talked about in the last review, it’s remarkable just how little time it’s been since jason’s “death” and he’s already got ‘minions’ and elaborately set up plans to track, break and kill the titans. just how long has he been planning this? when did he first look at WE weapons prototypes and think that’s something i can use to blow somebody up? and the most unsettling question: did he plan his own death at the hands of the joker just so that he could break batman?

at this point it’s obvious that the scarecrow at least started jason down this path, but it’s frightening just how far he’s travelled already.

1.8. aaagh, less than one minute in! i’ll shut up. 

2. conner washing his hands at the sink reminds me that he was directly in the line of explosion when hank got blown up and he’s probably got atomised hank-bits all over his skin that he’s desperately trying to wash off.

... you’re welcome.

2.25. conner, don’t you speak to gar fucking logan like that, sir, no!

2.3. if anything it’s the lex part of him that gave him the knowhow to recognise the weapon and build a de-activator for it. 

anyway, for that ‘half-breed’ and ‘talking tiger’ comment?

(i wish, tho, that we actually see conner more interested in the superman part of his legacy, like maybe listening to stories from gar, or even better, dick, so we get a better idea of the pressure he’s feeling to live up to that part of him and not the part that’s lex.)

((i talked about conner’s stages of moral development in his introductory episode last season, but i wonder if the next stage of his self-actualisation would be to further integrate the parts of himself and realise that they are only parts and he, conner, is an entirely different person unto himself that can make decisions on how to use what he has and what he knows. his superman abilities can be used to destroy. his lex knowledge can be used to save.))

3. oh dawn :((

3.25. is this the last we see of dawn and hank? i mean, we know donna is coming back; would it be a stretch to think they’ll try to have a go at resurrecting hank as well?

3.5. “deathstroke didn’t make us into killers.” good, because deathstroke didn’t make jason a killer either. there’s a missing step there you need to be looking for, dick. 

3.75. dick did try to break the cycle, step away from gotham, run from the possibility that he could turn into batman. it didn’t help; he couldn’t fully withdraw from his vigilante persona the same time he loathed it, and batman literally haunted him both asleep and awake. but maybe gotham doesn’t have to turn anybody into anything. maybe gotham has nothing to do with it at all. it’s about taking responsibility, realising some sacrifices are pure bullshit, and building an actual family instead of merely a team.

anyway: hugs!

(oh, also? mr “i hate flying”? i mean, there’s perfectly valid reasons to hate flying that’s not related to childhood trauma, but then again, this guy was literally a ‘flying grayson’ once. also also, remember that he also gets sea-sick. must’ve a lot of fun stories to tell.)

4. ooh that gar/kory confrontation was brief but cool!

listen, i have never seen a psychiatrist with that extravagant an office and SIR I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW HOW--

4.5. kory’s so unused to reaching out for help and it’s breaking my heart that HPG likely is some kind of impostor that’s maybe causing her symptoms in the first place. 

kory and dick have mostly been apart this season but it’s remarkable how their journeys have paralleled each other; kory processes her grief, isolation and existential dread into a determination to take care of this new family she has, no matter what it takes; dick does much the same, forging ahead with plans and solutions until he has no fuel left in him and spirals into a massive breakdown.

4.25. listen titans this really is a TERRIBLE continuity error. we aren’t goldfish; we can clearly remember that two minutes ago it was gar’s upper arm that was burned, not his forearm. COME ON.

“sensory deprivation tank” *SNORT*

anyway, gar is the BEST

4.5. i wonder where these visions of experimentation took place. was it on tamaran, or on earth, after she came to hunt down rachel/trigon and before she lost all her memories? is HPG a part of the scientist group that experimented on her? ... god, i hope not. i mean, i think he is, but it would be cool to have some positive therapist representation in media. 

5. you’d think the van transporting a dangerous supervillain that only batman could catch would be more secure but... i’m also not entirely surprised. 

5.15. i love dick gives ZERO shits about hiding himself or even ensuring scarecrow is adequately contained. just turns away after kidnapping him in BROAD DAYLIGHT and says ‘let’s go’. I LOVE THIS DUMBASS

6. lmao gar is having a really really shitty day SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK or just a goddamn story arc of his own

6.5. i’m really confused about the timeline here. so... sometime ago, kory came down to earth to hunt down trigon, yeah? at some further point down the line she and her sister were kidnapped and experimented on. THEN she somehow escapes but... loses her memory? a few months pass and then we see blackfire alive and well and free; she kills faddei, can impersonate other people, and is clearly seeking out kory. but now she’s still in the experiment facility...? what’s going on?

i’m not entirely surprised about the facility being mostly deserted. either the biggest investors in this project gave up on it and it was left to the most fanatic to carry on, or they were deliberately trying to lure kory and get her to free blackfire--expand the environs of the experiment, so to speak.

7. hopefully barbara is going to get something to do other than listen to various men give her Attitude

8. how do you terrorise a terrorist? well:

i love when dick is a scary-competent motherfucker.

8.25. ooooh, the attack on crane at arkham a ploy to get crane to blackgate? nice one dick, i didn’t even think of that. but why though? to protect crane from the titans? to intercept the van to blackgate and “rescue” him? seems likely--red hood was there, except dick got to crane quicker.

9. still reeeallly unclear about the komand’r situation. was komand’r captured after s2? is this all A TRAP?? if so, why are you stepping into the only thing that can contain you, kory????

9.25. so... definite parallels between dick/jason and kory/kom here. i’m just. i’m still. really confused. i’ll shut up now.

10. this may be my favourite dick look yet:

woodsman!dick in a beanie.

10.5. i unironically love how titans has made this bizarrely-devoted-to-his-moniker, toxin-spewing supervillain into a tamer version of hannibal, psychoanalysing his victims into submission. it’s of a piece with how inward looking titans is, the way all of its villains are obsessed with how our protagonists’ minds work, to the point where they would actually spend time inside of them. 

there are no big plots to end the world. no apocalypses or endgames here. these villains collect the titans’ insecurities like infinity stones. the way the titans defeat them is by achieving character growth--literally winning by the power of love. literally “the real superpower is the friends we made along the way”!

10.7. anyway, i’m betting dick is used to this bullshit from crane and is humouring him in the service of getting more information. the story about the wolf? an implicit threat, not to mention dick getting to control what crane knows about him and what methods he would use to manipulate him.

am i giving dick too much credit here? i don’t think so. he’s really impressed me so far this season.

10.75. like. there’s a real unreliable narrator vibe coming off with every person that talks about bruce (much like how the various members of the titans talked about jason’s motivations) and to buy into crane’s talk about bruce being a psychopath is to fall for the same manipulation that jason fell for. dick is the only person who hasn’t really psychoanalysed bruce this season, and i think some part of his detective brain is piecing things together into a bigger picture.

11. i’m glad kory rescued kom but did she have to kill the scientist?

(i mean, yeah, probably - the less people know that kom escaped the less likely they’re going to have the fucking govt on their doorstep, but still.)

11.5. dick’s gonna come back to wayne manor, stare straight at komand’r and go, well which room would you like? because the team might as well adopt ANOTHER person, yeah?

12. oh MAN that red hood/nightwing fight was AMAZING! and he did the thing! the boomerang escrima thing! i’m so delighted!

12.5. the anger and disbelief in dick’s voice when he says you told crane EVERYTHING?! tells me that he knew exactly what he was telling crane himself.

12.75. “everything you are is because of him” - oh that reminds me of halluci!bruce from last season. i hope we see halluci!bruce again--he is so vicious but so entertaining... so much more effective at tearing dick down than crane or jason combined. goes to show that dick’s biggest enemy is own fucking head.

12.8. oh no! dick’s shot! crane is in the wind with red hood! blackfire is now with the titans! i love it!

honestly this season’s pacing is such a big step up from the last couple. gold star, show.

[scarletjedi]

untitled Untamed time travel au but make it Mingcheng PART 2A

@piyo-13

Part 1: The Setup

Part 2A: GUSU REVISITED (part 1)

EDIT: Part 2B now up!

y'all...I tried to do one part, but this notefic is quickly becoming fic, and I need to keep it small enough to fit on tumblr, lol. The second half of this should be up in the next day or two!

Okay, the next day they arrive in Gusu, have the run in with Zixuan, which....almost goes the same? Zixuan still buys out the inn, but WWX saw this dude, who made Yanli happy, die (and while JC says it wasn’t him, he still feels that guilt) and JC looks at him and sees Jin Ling’s father, and they just... leave. Do not engage. Perhaps with a look at each other like - we need him to see her for herself, but we don’t want to put her through the pain of losing him.

...okay, JC can’t leave without saying something along the lines of “we’re in Gusu to learn, but also to form alliances. Open your damn eyes, and you might actually make a friend” - Zixuan is shook, but Mianmian looks at JC assessingly. I am here for “isolated and therefore socially awkward Zixuan” and I think it’d be hilarious if he takes this as a sign that JC wants to be friends. So, he will kind of randomly show up where JC is, like a cat trying to signal that they’re friends by mirroring you? Luckily, JC speaks “stray animal” and eventually figures out that Zixuan isn’t trying to spy on him but trying to make friends. It eventually leads to a conversation where JC turns to him and just asks “Why don’t you like my sister?” ...but i’ll get to that.

So, they leave, and this time they double check that WWX has the invitation. He does, but they’re still delayed just a bit going up the mountain, so when they reach the top, Lan Wangji is waiting.

The party stops when they see him, mostly because it looks like he’s barring entry, but JC sees the way LWJ looks at WWX and *knows* that somehow, LWJ is back too.

Now, in The Untamed canon (which we’re in) I fully believe that WWX was in love with (and knew it) LWJ before he died, but either felt that his love was not returned, or that LWJ’s love would end if he knew, the time was never right, etc - so, he’s looking at this like and opportunity to present the side of himself that he thinks LWJ wants.

Meanwhile LWJ is like “THERE IS MY GREMLIN ALIVE AND WELL. THIS TIME I WILL LOVE HIM AND STAND WITH HIM NO MATTER WHAT.”

But when JC announces themselves and WWX pulls out the invitation, LWJ says “Wei Ying” in that WAY of his and WWX freezes because a) he realizes that LWJ is also back b) this doesn’t fit into his plan and c) stall. So he does that awkward laugh, flicking his nose, like “Ahaha, Lan Zhan. It’s me.”

And LWJ *SMILES* “It is good to see Wei Ying.”

And WWX *melts* because he is weak, and JC is like “kill me now” (JYL is confused but thinks its sweet) and everyone else is just *confused*.

Not taking his eyes off WWX, LWJ gestures for Yunmeng Jiang to follow him, and leads them (well, WWX and by proxy everyone else) to the student dorms where they will be staying. (WWX walks next to LWJ, and there is something about the way they fit together that makes JC *feel things* all over again, because here was one more thing WWX lost because of *him* and—

When they arrive at the dorms, the other disciples and Yanli all retire, but JC stays because if LWJ is back then they need to talk before JC leaves those two to “count each others eyelashes or whatever they do when they’re alone together” and the absolute bitchy-ass angry *look* that LWJ sends him has JC standing taller and WWX stepping between them.

“Ayia, Lan Zhan, there’s no need for that. Jiang Cheng and I talked it out. We’re good.”

Lan Zhan looks over at WWX, softening for a moment, before bringing the heat back for JC. “He killed you.”

“You-!” JC clenches his fist, and is thrown because there *aren’t* sparks because Zidian is on his *mother’s* wrist, and it’s enough to make him settle, enough for WWX to step in again and say:

“That fall wouldn’t have killed me if— If I hadn’t lied to him, then Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have had every reason to believe I would survive that fall.”

*That* causes a reaction, a widening of his eyes that would be subtle on any other face, at the implication that Jiang Cheng hadn’t been trying to kill him. But, it doesn’t make the frown disappear. “He did not stand with you.”

“Neither did you!” Jiang Cheng snaps, going for the *jugular* without even realizing, and LWJ just fucking *wilts*

“That...is my regret.”

But before he could say anything else, WWX spoke again.

“Look, there’s no reason to rehash the past. I’m alive! And I know what I need to do to not be bad again, but I would really appreciate it if my brother and my soulmate” and didn’t THAT cause JC’s eyebrows to rise “didn’t hate each other.” Suddenly, several things about the last few years made a lot more sense.

“I don’t hate him,” Jiang Cheng said, as Lan Wangji said “Wei Ying is always good.”

When *that* caused the three of them to stare at each other again, Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Look, we need to talk soon about this whole time travel... thing, but I want nothing to do with whatever this” and gestures between them “is. So, I’m going to bed because I have been awake for two days straight and I would like to sleep. Figure it out!” and Jiang Cheng turned and went to find his bedroom (which he shared with WWX. Considering the way they were looking at each other, JC was pretty sure he’d be spending the first night without a roommate. Again).

MEANWHILE, outside, Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are left staring at each other. (Well, WWX stares after JC for a minute, mouth open, but that fades quickly when he sees Lan Zhan staring at him, all intent.)

Wei Ying would normally begin to fidget, but he’s transfixed, heart in his throat, without a clue as to what to do next and—

“A-Yuan.” Lan Zhan said, and Wei Ying’s focus sharpens.

“A-Yuan?!”

Lan Zhan nodded. “I found him, after. He was sick. I brought him here, gave him the name Lan to hide him.” He opened his mouth as if to say more, but fell silent.

Wei Ying was staring with shining eyes. “He lived? My little radish...” he trailed off, staring into the distance. He frowned, shaking his head. “But Lan Zhan, why would you—”

“I should have been there,” Lan Zhan interrupts *interrupts* angrier than he had ever sounded, but even Wei Ying can tell that it’s not directed at him. He cools quickly. “I will not make the same mistake.”

He catches Lan Zhan’s eye again and falls silent. “Oh.”

And Lan Zhan steps back, like he hadn’t intended to let that slip. “If Wei Ying does not feel the same—”

“I do!” Wei Ying bursts out, stepping forward and reaching out, not quite touching. “I do. Feel the same,” he said, quieter this time, for the two of them. Lan Zhan’s expression doesn’t change, but something shifts and Wei Ying knows him well enough to know it as *joy*

And, Lan Zhan reaches out and takes his hand.

(Yes, they use the next several months to actually talk though their relationship, but this is effectively a speed run from the way they feel in Episode 1 to the steps of jinlintai, bypassing all the *plot* that gets in the way of their romance, but whatever, it’s my fic. If this was a wangxian fic first, then I might do the “WWX needs to get a clue” thing he has going in the book, but.... Honestly, I *adore* the idea of *gremlin couple wangxian* on what is essentially their honeymoon in gusu. Like - pre-sunshot Gusu is not *prepared* for post-Yiling Laozu LWJ.)

The next morning, JC arrives to classes with the rest of the Jiangs, not at all surprised to see Wei Ying standing with LWJ (though everyone else seems to be weirded out by it, which may be because they’re standing far too close). LWJ nods at JC, who nods back, grimly pleased to see that there was no longer an open front of hostility. JC wasn’t foolish enough to think it was gone completely, but at least they should be able to discuss business when necessary. (And some part of his mind absolutely began planning the wedding. WWX was Yunmeng Jiang, and if JC had anything to say about it, he would REMAIN YMJ until he was damn sure to remember that he can’t get rid of Jiang Cheng that easily... and JC would be DAMNED if he let Lan Xichen steamroll the wedding prep, which he absolutely would, hopeless romantic that he was).

They enter and settle into their usual spots, though LWJ hesitates when he realizes that his seat would not let him watch WWX. JC continues on to sit in his old seat, determined to see *as little of this as possible* and turns to look at Nie Huaisang, who—

Oh, sonofabitch, Nie Huaisang was back too. How the fuck did their ritual have enough power to drag *four souls* back in time, especially one from *wherever the hell WWX was* JC widened his eyes at him, clearly saying *WTF* which had Nie Huaisang giving him a *look* from behind his fan, which fluttered, agitated. JC rolled his eyes, cutting them over to WWX, who was blatantly staring at Lan Wangji, chin propped on his palm. (And if LWJ had his head tilted so he could look back, well, *most* of the class probably couldn’t tell). Incredible. Jiang Cheng turned to look at JYL, who was hiding a smile behind her sleeve, when movement behind NHS caught his eye.

Meng Yao. Oh, that wasn’t awkward at all. Nie Huaisang flicked the corner of his fan, and JC turned back aground, knowing they would talk later, and then they were all standing as Lan Qiren walked into the room.

Which was when it dawned on Jiang Cheng that he would have to take these classes again. Judging by the soft whimper behind him, Nie Huaisang realized it, too.

The class runs the same, as clear as Jiang Cheng can remember, even if the recitation of the rules seems occasionally pointed at Lan Wangji, which is odd. He doesn’t dwell on it, however. He’s gotten good at looking like he was paying attention while thinking of other things, and Jiang Cheng had a lot to think about.

~*~

Like before, WWX invites NHS to go fishing (and JC isn’t sure if he realizes that NHS has also come back yet - in fact, he’s pretty sure he doesn’t), only this time, JC agrees to go with them and WWX pulls LWJ along, leading the group far enough ahead that JC and NHS end up waking behind. NHS keeps up with looked wide-eyed and confused until they leave the main areas for the backwoods.

“So,” Jiang Cheng starts. “Something went wrong.”

“Obviously,” Nie Huaisang hisses, snapping his fan closed. “I woke up in the same room as him.”

JC winces, because yeah, awkward. “I’m a little surprised he’s still alive, actually.”

NHS’s jaw clenched, and JC was reminded very strongly of NMJ. “No one would support flat out murder, even if they don’t really care about the victim.”

“And it’s messy,” JC offered, dry. NHS looked at him from the corner of his eye.

“It’s so hard to get blood out of white fabric,” he agreed and JC laughed.

THAT gets WWX to spin around. “You laughed!” he accuses, pointing a finger at JC.

“So?”

“So I haven’t heard you laugh in years, Jiang Cheng!” he pouts. “Why do you laugh at his jokes and not mine.”

“You are an *actual child*--”

Then, of course, NHS gasps, his fan falling from his hand. JC, catches it, reflexively, startled at the horror he sees on NHS’s face as the show drops. “Wei-xiong, you— but you—”

WWX laughs awkwardly. “No need to worry, I’m —” probably going to say something about not being evil anymore, or not following the demonic path, but NHS cuts him off.

“Back from the dead!?”

Which is when JC remembers that they used Baxia in the ritual, and if his core was enough to bring back WWX, then maybe...

“Da-ge!”

MEANWHILE, in Qinghe, Nie Mingjue wakes up, which is odd, considering the last thing he remembered was dying. Perhaps he didn’t die? Unless the doctors had some new pain medications, he didn’t feel as if he had just had a near-fatal qi-deviation.

Tentatively, he opens his eyes and sees...his bedroom ceiling. How long was he sleeping that they brought him from Lanling to Qinghe? His door opens and he’s reaching for Baxia before he can think — and stops when he recognizes Nie Zonghui (though not before Zonghui notices the aborted movement). “Sect Leader....troubled night?”

Nie Mingjue snorts. “That’s one way to put it.” There’s something rattling around the back of his mind, some detail that doesn’t quite add up as Nie Zonghui helps get him ready for the day. It’s not just that Zonghui doesn’t seem surprised (or relieved) to see him up and awake, it’s the names that Zonghui mentions in is reports — names of disciples who are, like Zonghui himself, long dead.

It’s when Zonghui mentions that a messenger bird had arrived from Gusu that morning, carrying word that Huaisang had arrived safely and that Meng Yao would be leaving tomorrow to return to his duties that the other shoe dropped.

“Zonghui, there’s something I forgot to tell Huaisang. I need to send him a message, the faster the better.”

Zonghui gave a short bow. “Consider it done.”

BACK IN GUSU

Nie Huaisang was pacing atop a long, flat rock on the river’s edge. It wasn’t a very long boulder, maybe 5 or 6 steps at most, but it was dry so Jiang Cheng wasn’t too worried about him slipping. Besides, Lan Wangji was sitting only a few stones away, playing a soft melody on his guqin.

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were both in the stream, robes and pants hiked up to keep them from getting too wet, as they waited to catch their dinner. Jiang Cheng remembered getting upset about WWX fishing their second night there, blatantly flaunting the “no killing” rule, but if LWJ felt like indulging his soulmate, what the fuck, then who was Jiang Cheng to complain.

On the rock, Huaisang was plotting out loud, starting ideas and rejecting them just as quickly. “You know, if you put this much effort into your studies this time, you might not have to come back again,” JC called over. Nie Huaisand didn’t even break his stride, just flapped his fan irritably in Jiang Cheng’s direction.

WWX darted forward, pulling a wriggling fish into the air in triumph. “Jiang Cheng, catch!” He tossed the fish, and Jiang Cheng caught it with ease. He considered, for a moment, throwing it at Nie Huaisang, but he was getting hungry. He tossed the fish into the bank, where it wouldn’t flop back into the water. Lan Wangji side-eyed it, warily.

“You know, he’s not actually done anything wrong yet,” Wei Wuxian said. “Can you really hold him accountable for actions he hasn’t taken?”

That made Huaisang stop. “To a certain extent, yes, I can.” That got him a *look* from both LWJ and WWX. “Look, all the decisions we make are influenced by the lives we live. And no, as far as I can tell, Meng Yao didn’t come back with the rest of us - and I still don't’ know why you came back too, Lan Wangji,” LWJ makes a gesture that is far too elegant to be, and yet totally is, a shrug, “but so far, Meng Yao’s life is *exactly the same* as the Meng Yao who committed those acts. That means Meng Yao is the same man who WILL make those choices, barring a MAJOR shift in the way he views the world.”

“Can we cause that shift, then?” Wei Wuxian asked. “I just don’t know if ‘kill him dead’ is always the best course of action.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes narrowed, a fraction of the coldness Jiang Cheng had seen that day seeping through, before his expression cleared a bit. “It would be a touchy subject for you, yes, but Meng Yao is not Wen Ning.” Wei Wuxian flinched, and, surprisingly, it was Lan Wangji that spoke.

“One cannot change another’s mind,” he said, vanishing his guqin and rising to his feet, one hand behind his back. “One can only show the path; only they can choose to walk.”

“And we have the path to show him,” Wei Wuxian argued. “Don’t we have a responsibility to try, knowing the damage he can do? If we know we have the opportunity to change things and save lives, are we not bound to try? Is that not why Jiang Cheng was sent back in the first place?”

“I’m fine with killing him,” Jiang Cheng said. “He deliberately uses his own weakness to learn the vulnerabilities of others, and then uses that as leverage to get what he wants and then discard them once his objective has been met. He uses Jin Zixuan’s better nature against him. He used Mingjue’s sense of fair play against him and then used his biggest fear to kill him, and he used Zewu-jun’s kindness as a shield.” He looked up at Nie Huaisang. “Though, if you’re right and he’s back too, Meng Yao might not live long enough for us to do anything about it.”

“Oh no,” Huaisang said, voice dryer than dust. “What a tragedy.”

“His information was key in winning the war,” Lan Wangji said. “Can we win against the Wens again without him?”

“Hey, yeah,” Wei Wuxian added. “Speaking of - am I going to have to...” he trailed off, miming playing a dizi.

“You better not!” Jiang Cheng snapped. Wei Wuxian looked at him in surprise, then smiled sadly.

“No, you said not to, and I won’t refuse a direct order from my sect leader,” he said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I know how.”

“Meng Yao wasn’t actually that good a spy,” Nie Huaisang said, a faint frown between his brows that Jiang Cheng didn’t trust at all. It meant he had noticed something and was putting pieces together that Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure he wanted known. “More than once his information was either wrong or outdated. A lot of the correspondence was kept for our records, and I went back to check once I had my suspicions about him.”

“You think he was playing both sides?” Jiang Cheng asked. Nie Huaisang fluttered his fan and didn’t disagree.

Between them, Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian caught more than enough fish to feed Huaisang as well, and he and Lan Wangji were both invited back to the Yunmeng dorms to eat with them and their sister. Yanli was surprised, of course, but rolled with it well enough. Luckily, she had chosen to make a soup that was in line with Gusu Lan’s dietary restrictions, so Lan Wangji was able to join them. WWX and JC exchanged smug looks when Lan Wangji blinked down at his soup in surprise, and began to eat more quickly.

Later that night, while WWX was walking LWJ back to his rooms, Yanli poked her head into JC’s room. “Second Young Master Lan seems to have taken quite a liking to A-Xian,” she said.

JC nodded, because that was certainly one way to put it.

“Which makes sense, A-Xian can be very charming,” she continued. “But from what the other female disciples tell me, Second Young Master Lan is ...” he paused, and Jiang Cheng filled in:

“A giant stick in the mud?”

“A-Cheng!” Yanli scolded, but there was laughter behind her voice. “...essentially, yes.”

Jiang Cheng sighed. He had no idea what to say here. He was never good at lies, never LIKED lies, preferring to neither confirm nor deny another’s suppositions when the need for secrecy was necessary...and he had never been able to lie to Yanli. Never wanted to. And besides, Nie Huaisang hadn’t covered this possibility with him.

“A-Jie,” he said, “There’s something I want to tell you, but it’s going to sound like a lie even though it’s the truth. I need you to hear me out, and to believe me, and I will do whatever I can to convince you that it’s real and true.”

And...he tells her. Flat out, just tells her about living the next ten years of his life - the end of her engagement, the indoctrination in Qishan, the burning of Cloud Recesses and Lotus Pier, the death of their parents, losing his core, gaining his core but losing Wei Wuxian, the War, her marriage to Zixuan, A-Ling, Nightless City, Nie Mingjue, death after death after death — and Nie Huaisang, like vengeance made flesh, with a crazy, desperate plan.

“So, yeah. They’re close because they’re, like, in love or whatever.”

“Because they’ve known each other for ten years.”

“Seven,” Jiang Cheng corrected. “They only had seven.”

Yanli looks a little stunned wild-eyed. She had looked sad yet resigned when she had heard about her engagement ending, hopeful when she heard about their wedding. Her eyes had shone suspiciously when she heard about Jin Ling...a few tears falling when she heard about Qongyi pass and Nightless City.

“Do...” he began. “Do you believe me?” he asked, voice small and hating it, but he couldn’t stand it if Yanli thought he would make this up.

Slowly, she nodded her head. “It sounds...wild,” she said. “But I know my A-Cheng. He is honest, and would not make up wild stories like this. So, if A-Cheng says it, it must be true.”

“A-jie,” He said, and had to stop, his voice choked off, and when Yanli leaned in to hug him, his tears were sweet with relief.

~*~

The next complication came the next day, at the presentation ceremony, when, once again, Wen Cho showed up to interrupt Yunmeng Jiang’s gifting. It took everything in him not to punch Wen Chao in his smug face with Sandu unsheathed, and Wei Wuxian was a dark, simmering presence next to him. Somehow, the steps played out like they had before - a brief exchange lead to swords drawn, lead to Xichen stepping in and Wen Qing soothing tempers with quick words.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t prepared to see her again. Her, or Wen Ning, who was a remarkably still shadow behind her. When they left, his eyes stayed lowered towards the ground. There was nothing to make Jiang Cheng think that there was something different, except the long running knowledge that he had the worst possible luck.

WWX was strangely unwilling to approach Wen Ning first, though he clearly wanted to. Some misplaced guilt, perhaps. He still clung to LWJ’s side, which was in no way avoidant behavior, WWX, but Jiang Cheng was surprised when Wen Ning found him first.

“I knew it!” Jiang Cheng cried out, to everyone’s surprise, even Wen Ning. He gestured at Wen Ning. “WWX’s here because he’s tied to me, and Wen Ning here is tied to Wei Wuxian.”

“That still doesn’t explain Lan Wangji,” Nie Huaisang said, tapping his fan against his cheek.

“Nothing explains Lan Wangji.”

“Aiya, Jiang Cheng, so mean!”

None of this has much of an effect on the present moment, however, save that it causes Nie Huaisang to adjust his plans *again*. “No one else has better come back!” he demanded. “All of these calculations are hard, and I am *delicate,* Jiang Cheng.”

“Yeah, a real wilting flower.”

Later that night, just before curfew, a missive arrived to Nie Huaisang from his brother. Huaisang walked as fast as he could manage from the Nie Quarters to the Jiang, bursting into Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian’s room, holding the letter aloft, speaking as soon as he’s through the door: “It’s him! He’s alive! Da-ge’s back!”

Huaisang slammed the letter on the table, reaching for the nearby inkbrush, quickly grinding some ink to circle letters on the page. There, written in an otherwise standard letter reminding Huaisang to mind his studies and practice his saber, was the phrase: Do Not Trust Meng Yao.

TO BE CONTINUED....

[kaaytea]

HI 🖐🏽 I read some of your work and it's so good. I love it. Especially 'Oikawa with braces' UwU and 'Getting rid of bugs for you' that was my fav reminded me of when I had a run in with a bunch of cockroaches at 3AM 😅😂 Would you mind doing a 2nd part for it with Kuroo , Oikawa , Terushima and Yaku THANK YOU 💖

Hello anon! Thank you for the kind words, I had the dumbest smile on my face reading this 🥺 Bro I feel you on the roach thing, I've had my fair share of roach encounters..it's not fun😔 thank you for requesting, I had a blast writing this!

Getting rid of bugs for you pt.2

⤷Includes: Kuroo, Oikawa, Yaku, and Terushima

Warnings: Roaches, centipedes, wasps, and crickets

----------------------------------------------------------

Kuroo

He's so smug about it

"oh you want me to get rid of this bug? Give me a kiss first"

If he can actually tell that you're really shaken up tho he's very serious about it

He hates seeing you scared, it just doesn't sit well with him

He'll probably requests a kiss after he gets rid of the bug tho

It was a cool summer evening, Kuroo was in the kitchen starting to cook dinner and you were lounging on the couch with a novel

You were just about to flip the page when something landed on the book

Oh

O H

So uh big wasp, that will probably get angry if you try to kill it, is crawling around towards your hand

Great......just peachy

Thank God Kuroo was In the kitchen bc he probably wouldn't have heard you whimper out his name if he was anywhere else in the apartment

"T-tetsu"

"What's wrong, (y/n)?"

"help me....please"

Ah...now he understands

He grabs a glass from one of the cupboards and swiftly makes his way over to you

He's VERY careful when trapping the wasp bc that last thing he wants is for you to get stung

He somehow directs it to crawl on to the cover of your book and traps it under the glass. He then quickly goes to release it on the balcony of your apartment

Immediately goes to check on you. He pulls you into his chest and kisses the top of your head asking if you're alright

"You alright, Kitten? Not hurt?"

"no I'm okay. Thank you for saving me for the hundredth time"

"I'll always make time to save you.....Now, I think I deserve a kiss, I risked my life to save you from that wasp."

Yaku

Yaku's a bad bitch nothing scares this guy

Will always get rid of bugs for you no matter the size

He likes feeling needed and LOVES protecting you; you are his baby and he'd do anything for you 💖

If you text him saying there's a bug in the house he will actually drive home and leave what ever he's doing to come save you

You had just finished washing your face and went to reach for the small towel that was hap hazardously tossed on to the bathroom counter

As you lifted the towel a large roach scUttLeD from under it

You let out the loudest shriek, dropped the towel and bOoKeD it out of the bathroom

Yaku was already running to find you when he heard you scream so he entered your bedroom just as you slammed the attached bathrooms door closed

He was really worried so he was in front of you in seconds grabbing on to your hands and asking what was wrong

"shhhh calm down calm down, what's wrong?"

"There's a roach in the bathroom!"

".....huh?"

"A ROACH MORI!! THERES A BIG, CRAWL AROUND THE SUBWAYS OF NEW YORK ROACH IN THE BATHROOM!!!"

Ok so there's a roach locked in the bathroom

This is new

He peeked into the bathroom and yep you weren't kidding, there was the roach sitting in the sink

Damn it is pretty big

Yaku didn't really know what to do. He was kinda iffy about killing the roach bc he didn't want to deal with..Uh.....cleaning the remnants of it, but what would he do with it after he trapped it? Where do you take a live roach?

He decided to just kill it, carrying a live roach around the apartment would send you into cardiac arrest

One good thwack! Later and thoroughly washing his hands in an attempt to get rid of that creepy crawly feeling, the bathroom was officially Roach free

You really snuggled up to him after the roach fiasco, giving him a tight hug and a kiss

"Thank you so much Mori, you're the best!"

"Anything for you :) 💖"

Oikawa

Ok so Oiks doesn't despise bugs, he's best friends with Iwa so he's seen his fair share of giant beetles and caterpillars, but he's not completely comfortable around them

If it's a tiny spider? Sure he's got this, just get him a paper towel

But if it's big? Yeah no he's just as freaked out as you are

He masks it very well tho

On the outside he's all: "don't worry babe I've got this, let your big, strong boyfriend handle it 😌✨"

But on the inside he's like: "oh fUck it's huge! Ah um ok... This is fine...wHy iS iT mOvInG sO fAsT?! Don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me!"

Looks cool, calm, and collected but is an actual disaster

You were tidying up your bedroom, nothing too fancy just putting away some clothes, dusting here and there

You were just about to go celebrate your hard work with some ice cream and your favorite movie when you spotted a hair tie on the floor

Huh....How did you miss that?

You were jUst about to pick it up when you realized something

Hair ties don't have legs

UUUUUUHHHHH

WOW COOL YOU ALMOST PICKED UP A CENTIPEDE WITH YOUR BARE HAND HA HA SO FUN!!

Apparently the centipede didn't like you much as it started rUnnInG out of the bedroom and into the living room

You followed it so you could see where it was going

That's when your wonderful boyfriend came home 🥰

"Tooru! Get it, quickly!"

"what am I doing?"

"THE CENTIPEDE YOU FOOL!!"

He kinda panicked bc you were yelling at him and you were scared and wOW does that thing have a lot of leggys!

He slipped off the shoes he was wearing and just yEETED one at the bug boi

The both of you were just kinda staring at the shoe like 🧍

You turned to go thank him for dEmOlishing the centipede but stopped when you saw that pout on his face

"What's wrong?"

"I just bought those shoes, now one of them is tainted with centipede bits :("

Terushima

Will he laugh at you? Perhaps, but it's not to make fun of you, he just thinks you're really cute~

He’s not bothered by bugs at all, he actually thinks they’re super cool

Refuses to kill them bc, “They’re living creatures babe....plus look at how funny it walks! Why would you want to kill something this dope!”

It was movie night so you were on snack duty while Teru looked for something to watch on Netflix

you decided to just pop some popcorn and call it a job well done, plus all of the chips you had went stale bc Teru NevEr closes the bags well

You grabbed a bowl and threw some popcorn into the microwave 

You sat on the counter and scrolled through your phone as you waited for the microwave to go off

Did...something just move right next to you? 

Just as you glanced up you saw something jump into the bowl next to you

hElLO?! wHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?! 

you were too scared to look into the bowl so you just called Teru to come investigate

“Yu?...Yuji there’s something in the kitchen!”

Teru is very used to this behavior and found it particularly amusing when you hid behind him as he stepped into the small kitchen

you watched from the entrance of the kitchen as Terushima placed a glass over what ever had jumped into the bowl

He was absolutely BEAMING as he watched the mystery creature in the bowl

“Babe come look it’s a cricket!” 

 “What? are you crazy? I’m not going anywhere near that thing!”

“But its soo cool! You have to come look at how high it can jump, this lil guy has mad hops” 

“I don’t care if it can jump to the fUcKing moon and back, just get it out of the kitchen!”

:(( ok he’ll get rid of the cricket, he really thinks you’re missing out tho

He lets the bug go outside and comes back to find you vigorously washing the bowl it had jumped into 

 He chuckles at your paranoia and goes to give you a back hug, pressing a kiss to your neck as his arms wrap around your waist 

you really were adorable to him