#I think I’ll email them with some ideas cuz I think they should do an online database for the clothes before they get sold

[smudgedeyeshadow]

Finally worked up the courage to go to the local historical society and found out they’re getting rid of a lot of their clothing collection, but the old dude said I could totally get involved and help out with cataloging which would be a dream if it wasn’t on Tuesdays when I work 😪

[bubblyhoney]

sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

-

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

-

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

[kythed]

“teenage wasteland.” kuroo tetsurou x reader

4:08pm.

“yo,” kuroo says, opening the door quickly after you ring the bell, “you finally made it.” 

“what do you mean, finally?” you complain, kicking off your shoes and slipping inside. the dry heat of his family home’s living room assaults your bare face, a sharp contrast to the december frigidity outside. “you texted me like ten minutes ago.”

“felt like longer,” kuroo says with a crooked grin. “you want something to drink?” 

“water?”

“I kinda meant something stronger, but sure, water,” kuroo says, filling a glass at the kitchen sink. you furrow your brows.

“something stronger? I’m sorry, but last time I checked we were still underage,” you say, and kuroo laughs breathily — it’s almost a giggle, actually. for the first time since arriving, you notice an odd flush in his cheeks. “oh my god. are you drunk?”

“drunk?” kuroo gasps. “no, no. tipsy, yes. drunk, no.” 

“tetsurou,” you scold, reluctantly letting him pull you towards the hallway. “all those big, bad college boys can’t have been a very good influence on you.”

“I’ve had a stash of jack daniels hidden beneath my bed since sophomore year,” kuroo whispers conspiratorially. “those ‘big, bad college boys’ have nothing to do with it. speaking of which — you want some?” 

you shake your head vehemently and dig your heels into the carpet, realizing he’s trying to drag you into his bedroom. despite being kuroo tetsurou’s official best friend of a decade, you’ve never been inside his room before. you’ve never been inside any boy’s room before, actually — you’ve never been much of a rule breaker. 

(you suppose that’s why you and kuroo get along. you’re forever the straight-laced goody goody, and he’s forever the secretly bad, outwardly good honor roll kid.)

“I don’t drink,” you insist, and kuroo loops his arms around your neck. you stiffen. “and stop being so touchy. it’s freaking me out.”

“what?” kuroo says, feigning offense. “you don’t like my hugs?” 

“no!” you say, and he shoots you an exaggerated eye roll. “you’re being weird. I can probably count the number of times you’ve voluntarily hugged me on one hand.” 

kuroo ignores you, choosing to instead pick you up and toss you over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold. 

“kuroo tetsurou, you’d better quit it before I call your mother!” you pound on his back, a little taken aback to feel his shoulder muscles rippling under your palms as he staunchly marches you into his room. “I do not want to enter your disgusting cave of a room, you teenage garbage troll!”

“getting real creative with the insults there,” kuroo laughs, setting you down and backing up against the door to block you from running out. “come onnnnn. I thought we could play a game of monopoly or something. listen to the radio. finish the bottle before my mom comes home and whips my hide.”

you sigh and perch your hands on your hips. “so that’s why you invited me over.”

“no, no,” kuroo protests, crouching to pull a clear bottle of amber colored liquid out from beneath his bed. “I also just vastly enjoy your company.”

“why not just throw it out?” you ask, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed. 

kuroo’s room is a lot neater than you imagined it would be — navy bedspread tightly tucked in at the corners, vinyl floor completely clear save for a small rug. his desk is probably the messiest part of the entire room, holding an old, chunky desktop that’s covered in post-its with smudged, scribbled notes, ranging from “email prof. miyazawa about missing grade” to “buy mom flowers to apologize for broken mug.” 

there are a couple posters on the wall, too, one for the japanese national volleyball team, and one for some punk-looking band dressed in an overabundance of leather, ripped denim, and hair feathers. 

“this shit was expensive,” kuroo says, gesturing to the bottle before screwing the cap off and taking a long draught. your eyes widen as he drinks down a quarter of the remaining liquid, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. “I can’t let it go to waste.”

“I think you’ve probably had enough of that,” you say, gently twisting it from his hands. kuroo smiles angelically before coming to tower over you. 

“if you’re not gonna drink it, I will,” he says, reaching out to grasp the bottle’s neck. you hold onto it stubbornly.

“you’re clearly wasted, tetsu,” you say. “just let me throw it away.” 

“I may have a small drinking problem,” kuroo says, “but I’m sober enough to know I’m not about to throw away the fifty bucks I spent on that. give it.” 

“no!” 

“yes.”

“nooooo!”

“yes!” 

kuroo tries to wrench the bottle from you, and you spend a solid thirty seconds wiggling in his grasp before finally pulling it away. in an impulsive attempt to keep kuroo from getting even drunker, you bring the rim of the bottle to your lips and chug the rest of the whiskey.

kuroo’s eyes widen, and he guffaws loudly. “that was a lot of alcohol just now.”

you nod, wincing at the acrid taste, unwilling to swallow — the liquid is still swishing in your cheeks. you move to go spit it out in kuroo’s sink, but he grabs your arm.

“do not spit that out,” he warns. “that’s over two hours’ worth of minimum wage salary. I don’t work twenty hours a week in the wendy’s drive-thru just for you to flush it down the drain.” 

“mmmm,” you protest, breathing through your nose. “hrghhhh mmm mm mhm.”

“I have no idea what you’re trying to say,” kuroo says, obviously trying to stifle his laughter. 

you gesture wildly to your face, and then to the empty bottle, and then back to your face. 

for a moment, kuroo wrinkles his nose, and then slowly smoothes out his expression. a small smile stretches across his lips, and he steps close to you. you’re acutely aware of your personal bubble being popped, as well of the fact that he smells strongly of old spice and mango body wash. 

“I’ll do it then.”

“mm?” you squeak in confusion when he takes your chin in one hand and guides your face close to his. you’re not sure if you’re smelling the alcohol on his breath or tasting it on our own tongue. you’ve never been this physically close to your best friend in your life, and you can firmly say you’re absolutely petrified. you shake your head vehemently as he slowly leans down, tilting his head. 

“calm down,” he says quietly, and in spite of yourself, you do. “I’m just taking a drink.” 

then he presses his mouth to yours, and you freeze. oh, shit. 

kuroo wedges his tongue between your lips, forcing them open, and then he sucks the whiskey from your mouth, one hand keeping your jaw open while the other snakes around your waist. your eyes widen just as his close, almost as if he’s enjoying the kiss. slowly, you close yours too, letting yourself melt into him as he keeps kissing you even after swallowing the liquid. 

it lasts for a good ten seconds before you reluctantly pull away, letting your hands rest on his shoulders. he’s smiling, evidently very pleased with himself. 

“what the hell was that?” you say breathlessly, searching his face. 

“I was thirsty,” kuroo says nonchalantly. “and a little drunk. and you’re very pretty, as far as best friends go.” 

you feel like you should be offended, yet you can’t quite bring yourself to be. you’re definitely flustered, though, and a little embarrassed. (okay, a lot embarrassed.)

“I think, um, I think I should go,” you say, breaking eye contact. kuroo raises a hand to stop you, but you brush him off, bounding out of the room to grab your bag and keys from the kitchen counter. “we can talk about this later, okay? you need to go take a nap or something.”

“no, hey, wait —”

but you’re already out the door and in the car, jamming the key into ignition. you just kissed your best friend. or did you? does that count as a kiss? or was that just kuroo being stupid? your mind spins with useless speculations on the drive home, and as you sprawl out on your bed for an hour afterwards. it’s not until later that evening that you check your phone, greeted by a handful of social media notifications… and a text from kuroo.

with shaking hands, you swipe it open, face immediately splitting into a grin.

kuroo: sorry about that

kuroo: ok, not really

kuroo: I’m not that sorry

kuroo: cuz you’re a good kisser

kuroo: a really good kisser

you: you too

you wait for a moment as the three little dots on kuroo’s side pop up.

kuroo: thanks

kuroo: I was still kind of stupid tho

kuroo: my b

you: you regret it?

your fingers shake in suspense as you await his answer, feeling all the world like a lovestruck fifteen year old. you’re a little disgusted to find yourself suddenly crushing on kuroo tetsurou of all people, but what can you say? maybe falling for your best friend is a little cliche. maybe it’s a little overdone. maybe the fact that you kissed him with a mouthful of whiskey belongs in a cheesy teen movie, but you can’t help but find yourself delighted that it happened. 

kuroo: nope. not at all.

kuroo: not at all.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Update - Harry Styles

i’ve been deep inmy harry feels and this thought just wouldn’t leave me alone so i had to write it. im thinking about starting a taglist for harry, i think i’ll write more about him in the future. let me know if you’d be interested in the taglist!

word count: ~5.9k

masterlist

Sequel: The best present

Harry is not that into YouTube videos, has never really been, which is kind of ironic seeing the number of videos on the internet that is about him. The man himself who makes everyone talk online feels weird seeing someone talking on his screen, looking into his soul as if they were right there with him. But today he felt the sudden urge to be like his peers and get lost in random rambling videos from strangers, who felt the need to put themselves out there.

He has made a mean cup of tea for himself, made himself comfortable on his couch with his laptop balancing on his thighs and now is opening up his browser to unwind in an unusual way. As YouTube opens in front of his tired eyes, he stops when he tries to type in the keywords he is searching for. What is he looking for really? He thinks to himself trying to remember what he heard from his friends when they talked about funny or interesting videos. One thing is for sure, he is trying to avoid watching videos of himself in any content. He has had enough of him for the day, it’s time to focus on someone else, even if he doesn’t know the person.

He scrolls through several pages of many different keywords until he settles for a video where a girl talks about how her latest moving day went. Starting off Harry feels weird listening to her talk about such personal things as where her bed went in her room, how she packed all her stuff to fit them in the boxes, but soon enough this feeling settles and he starts to realize it’s kind of relaxing.

It doesn’t take too long for him to fall down a rabbit hole and by the time his tea empties out from his cup he is intensely watching a guy rant about his boss at Subway while doing a mukbang. The latter is a new discovery for Harry, he has never heard of it before, but he can see why some people find it satisfying.

The video ends, Harry checks the time and sees that it’s already after midnight and he hasn’t even realized how fast time flew by.

“Alright, just one more,” he mumbles to himself scrolling down the column of the recommended videos until his eyes stop at one particular upload at the very bottom.

July update for my Sammy, ready the title and an eye-catchingly beautiful girl is smiling from the thumbnail. He finds her breathtaking, the lack of makeup, the worn out hoodie she is wearing and the many various plants in the background makes it appear she is sitting in the middle of the forest.

Harry finds himself clicking on the video before he could even decide consciously to watch it. The screen loads and the girl appears in front of him, this time in a much larger size.

“Hi Sammy, welcome back to our channel,” she starts with an angelic little laugh as she pulls her shoulders up to her ears as if the camera is making her shy. She has no reason to be shy, Harry thinks to himself. His second thought is about Sammy, he is one lucky guy to know this angel and have her think about him. “It’s Y/N here, your one and only sister,” she adds.

Sister. The word brings Harry relief and he is surprised to feel this way, but he has no time to think anything of it because she starts talking again.

“Here is my July update, I’m sorry I’m a little late, but we got back from Oregon yesterday. Aunt Ella is sending you kisses and hugs, she missed you at the barbeque, or maybe it was just your helping hand at the grill,” she chuckles to herself, probably recalling the memory.

Harry has no idea who Aunt Ella is or where she lives in Oregon, but the way she talks about it makes him feel like he is part of the family a little.

Y/N carries on and starts talking about everything that has happened in July. Painting the shed at her parents’ home, buying a new armchair, one her cat absolutely adores and refuses to sleep anywhere else now, she went to the hairdresser to get a trim, but not too much. She tells about her plans for August, how she is thinking about going to the farmers’ market more often, and she has been playing with the idea of adopting another cat.

“I think Henry has been feeling a little lonely lately. He could use a buddy,” she tells the camera, her eyes moving to the side from where a weak but moody meow can be heard as an answer. “Yeah, I think he agrees,” she chuckles and Harry finds himself smiling at the screen.

At the end of the video she asks a few questions from Sammy, how he has been doing, if his wrist feels any better, even asks about a friend called Matthew. Harry wonders if she has ever gotten the answers to her questions and where Sammy saw this video. What is he doing that made her want to do an update on YouTube?

When the video ends Harry clicks on her profile faster than he would willingly admit to anyone and it’s like he opened the gate to paradise. Tens and maybe hundreds of videos are queuing on her page, monthly updates, birthday wishes, short story times about family gatherings, news and happenings in her life.

Harry gets lost in her tales. He watches video after video, noticing the smallest details about her, almost mentally taking notes about her updates, finding anything and everything she talks about so interesting as if he knew those people and places she mentions. He comes to realization that Sammy is her older brother who is serving somewhere in the military. Y/N is making the videos to update him about her life even if she knows most of them doesn’t get to him until weeks later, but it doesn’t seem to bother her. He also learns that Sammy sends them back lengthy emails once a month and always ends them with a joke they made up with his mates at the army. Y/N loves them even when they're not even funny, she never fails to mention that she smiled reading them.

Hours pass by and the rising Sun peeks inside the window pulling Harry back to his own reality, shocked that he just spent the whole night watching her videos and didn’t even realize how deep he has gotten in her life. Lucky for him he has nothing planned until the afternoon, so shutting his laptop he sets it aside and heads straight to bed, but lying between his silky sheets he catches himself staring out the window, wondering what Y/N might be doing right now. From what he collected she lives somewhere in Spokane and has family in Seattle and Portland, which puts her quite a few time zones behind him. He finds the thought of them going to bed at the same time despite the distance a little funny. He lies in bed for quite some time before he finally drifts off to sleep with a particular girl on his mind, who doesn’t even know he is thinking about her.

 “Do you think you can fall for someone you have never met?”

Harry’s question catches Mitch a little off-guard, but he is kind of used to his random bits of thoughts. Pouring some sugar into his coffee he follows the wondering singer to a free table in the corner.

“Isn’t it what all your fans feel?” he answers with a question, earning a surprised look from Harry. He hasn’t thought about this side, now the situation is kind of ironic, he supposes.

“Y’re right,” he nods stirring his coffee around in the small cup.

“Want to let me in on your thoughts?”

Harry feels a little shy to admit how he has watched all of her videos in the past few days, 207 to be exact and now he feels an oddly deep connection to this girl he has never even seen outside of a screen. Last night he dug up her Instagam profile, and even though she is not posting as frequently as she does on her channel, it was a refreshing change to see her in different settings. Chilling at a lake, having drinks with her friends, playing with her parents’ puppy, it amazed him that she has a whole life outside that small portion she lets him see in her videos.

Hesitantly, but he tells his friend about his latest hobby, if it’s not too weird to call it that, while his friend patiently listens and nods along his words while sipping on his morning coffee.

“D’you think I’m crazy?” Harry sighs leaning back in his seat, looking at his friend and colleague for validation that he hasn’t lost his mind entirely.

“Definitely not,” he chuckles shaking his head. “It’s like falling for that girl in school you know so much about but never really met.”

“Only that I’m stalkin’ this poor girl.”

“This is not stalking. We both know it’s far from that.” Harry nods with slight relief that his situation doesn’t seem as bad as he has been feeling lately. “Have you gotten in touch with her?”

“And what am I supposed to do? Comment on her video that I think her cat’s a cutie and I watched all her videos in three days ‘cuz I think she’s beautiful and I find her voice soothing?”

Mitch lets out a soft chuckle at the oddly specific answer he just gave and finds it amusing how interested his friend has grown about someone in such a short time.

“Maybe phrase it a little different.”

“So you do think I should reach out?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t. Use your personal YouTube, leave her a nice comment. Maybe she’ll reply.”

“And then what?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” he chuckles. “Just go with it and you’ll see. You are obviously interested in her, it’s better than just sit and watch her videos.”

Harry agrees. It wouldn’t hurt to try to reach out to her, possibly in a not too creepy way. Maybe just a sweet comment on one of her videos and if she replies… Well, he doesn’t know what comes after, but he’ll figure it out.

 Y/N updates regularly. Usually once a week and mostly it’s Sunday when a new video gets uploaded. This next Sunday Harry finds himself checking her page occasionally through the day to see if there’s a new update, but it seems like she is missing today. Right until he is driving home and gets a notification from the app.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video! It reads and Harry’s heart beats a tad bit faster. He thinks about pulling over to see it right away, but he tells himself that would be a bit too much, so he is forced to wait until he is in the comfort of his home.

Finally sitting on his couch he opens up his laptop and clicks on the video that has the title: September update.

Y/N sits in her usual spot, Henry in her arms as she is gently stroking his head with a warm smile on her face.

“Hi Sammy! Welcome back to our channel,” she greets him with her usual words and Harry loves how she calls the channel theirs. “This is my September update, even though not much has happened,” she breathes out, eyes wandering to the window besides her and Harry wonders what she sees from her window every day. Does she live in the city? Is it an apartment or a house with a backyard? Are there any trees or does her room have a terrible view, maybe just another house next to hers?

She starts her talk about the month, which she spent mostly with working, a little shopping and meeting her friends. She tells him about her planned trip to the local shelter to see possible new kittens to add to her household and Harry feels himself growing excited about it. He even thinks about what kind of cat he can see get along well with Henry even though he has never even met him.

“Anyway, mom and dad miss you, I miss you too. I loved your joke about ducks in your latest email,” she chuckles sweetly, bringing a smile to Harry’s face as well. “Mom is excited to see you at Christmas, our cousins will come to Portland as well. Maya can’t wait to play Jenga with you, she said she’s been practicing.”

The video soon ends as Y/N tells Sammy how much she loves him and eventually turns the camera off.

He straight away moves the cursor to the beginning of the video and as she starts talking again he scrolls down to the comment section that’s entirely empty. There are only two views on her video, usually a hundred is the max, but she doesn’t seem to care about the views, it’s more about the message.

He clicks to type a comment, but his hands stop above the keyboard as he tries to think of what to write. Mitch was right about taking a chance at reaching out, but what is he supposed to write exactly? Everything that comes to his mind sounds so creepy and scary, and he knows it’s weird that he formed such a deep connection to an unknown girl online. At last he starts typing.

“Hi Y/N! I’ve stumbled across your videos the other day. Love how you keep your brother updated, it’s such a nice gesture. I hope life treats you and Sammy well, you truly deserve it. Good luck with finding a buddy for Henry! Love, an admirer of yours, H.”

He reads it back several times, deleting then retyping it again until he decides to just go with it. A rush of adrenaline washes over his body when he sends the comment and it’s officially out there. Secretly he wishes she would reply right away, but moments pass by, then moments turn into minutes and nothing happens. His comment stands there alone and he has to realize that maybe she will never even reply or even see it.

It doesn’t matter, he tells himself as he shuts the laptop down and goes on to do his things, but he finds his thoughts wander over to her from time to time.

He has a busy day ahead of him the next day, quite a few meetings and a fitting. He checks back for a reply in the morning, but it slips his mind the moment he leaves from home and his phone rings right away. Throughout the day he basically barely has time to check his emails, his other notifications are just sitting patiently on the bar, waiting for him to acknowledge them. It’s way past five in the afternoon when he finally have some time for himself after his fitting. He is sitting in his car, people walk past him without even realizing who is sitting behind the tinted windows. Scrolling down he gets rid of everything that doesn’t seem urgent until his eyes stop at one particular notification.

“Y/N replied to your comment,” he reads it out loud, just to make it real, as if he is seeing it wrong and saying it with his own mouth brings it to life. He quickly taps on it and the familiar video opens up and while Y/N starts talking again the screen jumps down to the comments where, in fact, there is a reply from her.

“Dear H! Thank you for your heartfelt comment! I always forget it’s not just my family who sees these videos, but I’m happy you found them interesting enough to watch a few of them.”

“A few?” Harry huffs to himself feeling a little ridiculous he has watched all of them.

“I hope I didn’t bore you too much. Thank you for the well wishes for me, my brother and Henry too. He is sending his love to you. Y/N xx”

The comment was posted three hours ago. The thought that she has acknowledged his existence with not only reading but also replying to his comment brings him extreme joy. He reads her words over and over again, looking for any clue that would give away that she found his comment weird, but it seems like she was more surprised and happy that someone else saw her video besides her brother. Harry starts to type his reply without hesitation.

“Bore me? You saved me from watching another “what’s in my bag” video the other day. It was a pleasant change. I love your plants, by the way. Your room always gives off the most relaxed vibes. It reminded me I should have more of them in my home. H”

Harry smiles to himself posting his comment, the fear of appearing like a stalker long gone from him, the interaction is making his inside blossom from joy. For his biggest surprise a reply appears just a few minutes away and Harry reads Y/N’s new lines with deep hunger.

“Those videos suck the life out of me every time! I might be having a problem with buying too many plants, but I can’t help myself. They truly bring peace to me just by looking at them. I’m glad you are planning on buying some more, you won’t regret it!”

Harry is dying to reply, but he doesn’t want to look too eager and needy, so he opts for just liking her comment to let her know he read it and agrees. He locks his phone and puts it aside with the widest smile on his face as he starts his car and leaves his parking spot.

Two weeks pass by. In those two weeks Y/N uploads two more videos, one about her time with her grandparents, for a change it was filmed at their home and they even said hello in it. Harry feels wholesome seeing her with her granny and grandpa, it’s clear she cares a lot about them. The other video is just a short one where she has met some of Sammy’s old high school friends and she had a check in from them, sending a sweet message to him through the video. Harry doesn’t doubt how much these little things mean to Sammy, even if he doesn’t get to see them right away. Seeing Y/N alone boosts his mood every time she uploads a new video, he can only imagine how they make Sammy feel.

He leaves comments on her videos without a second thought and she replies to all of them, a lot of the time almost immediately. These are the highlights of his days without exception. Knowing that she has anything to do with him just fascinates him and he is starting to realize what his fans feel towards him on a different level. Whenever he sees the notification that she has replied to what he wrote or that she uploaded a new video he flies right to her page to check it, no matter what he is doing. Some of their comment threads turn out pretty lengthy, almost like a chat conversation and it has Harry wonder how they could maybe move it to somewhere else from the comment section.

He wants to ask for her number, but figures it wouldn’t be the best idea. Regardless of how much he enjoys their short little conversations, the situation is still weird and complicated and he doesn’t want to forget that.

But he is pleasantly surprised when she brings it up herself, to move the conversation to somewhere else.

“Would love to discuss that more with you. Up for exchanging IG names?” her question reads and he blinks a few before he fully comprehends that she wants to talk to him more in private. However there’s no way he can send her his real Instagram profile and making a fake one would be way too suspicious. Opening up the private messages he sends her a short, but informative message.

“I don’t use Instagram, but feel free to text me,” and then his phone number.

He sits at the dinner table anxiously, waiting for his phone to light up from a new text, and just a few minutes later it finally comes.

“Hi! It’s Y/N,” he reads from the notification and he saves the number right away.

“Hello! Save me as Harry. I haven’t even told you my name yet, how rude of me!” he replies chuckling to himself.

“Will let it slip this time. Harry. What a nice name!”

“Is it what you thought about from the H?”

“It was one of my theories. The other one was Hayes, but Harry fits you better.”

“You haven’t even seen me, how do you know what name fits me?”

“I don’t know. You had a vibe. There are many great Harries in the world, you seemed to fit between them!”

Harry wonders if she is thinking about him without even knowing that… it is him. He wants to ask her, but decides not to. Instead, he is enjoying that he can now reach her immediately and not through a comment section. He never thought this would actually happen.

 The texts never stop. They have so much to talk about! Their entire life to share, millions of thoughts and so much to discuss! Harry is not proud of the time he has spent with his eyes glued to his phone, but he wouldn’t miss a chance to talk to her for anything. Their friends are not blind to the change in him, but Mitch is the only one with a guess about why he has gotten so addicted to his phone.

“Is it the girl from the videos?” he asks Harry one time when they are at the studio, having lunch break. Different food boxes are scattered around them, on the table and the couch. Harry’s phone just light up from a text and he immediately dropped his lunch to type a response.

He glances up at his friend with a shy smile nodding his head. He hasn’t talked about his newly funded friendship with Y/N yet, it feels like as if he tells it to anyone it might evaporate into just a dream.

“So you reached out, huh?”

“I did,” he nods returning to his food once his message is sent. “She’s great.”

“Does she know who she is talking to?” Harry’s lack of answer tells enough about the truth to Mitch. “You can’t hide forever, especially if you are planning on meeting her.”

“I know,” he answers shortly. “But I just don’t know how I could even bring it up to her without sounding like a mad man.”

“She’ll need proof.”

“M’not ready to show m’self to her. What if it changes everything?”

“Then it wasn’t worth it,” he simply tells him.

Deep down Harry knows it’s the truth, but he is not ready to be robbed from the joy she is bringing him. He has never felt such a deep connection to anyone before and they haven’t even met. It’s just a version of her he is seeing on the screen, not her real self. But it feels real to him and he wants to keep this reality to himself for just a little longer.

 “I wish I could hear your voice, Harry. You are one big mystery to me, you know that?”

He forgets to breathe for a moment as he reads her message, lying in bed one evening, getting ready to sleep, but he wanted to check in with her before ending the day.

“You know so much about me already,” he types back.

“Not enough, I feel like. Sometimes I’m afraid Nev and Max are about to show up at my door and tell me that I’ve been catfished.”

He chuckles at her words, though he completely understands her fear.

“What do you want from me then?”

“Send me a voice message so I know you are real. That would put my suspicion to sleep. For a while…”

Harry hesitates for a long time until he decides just one voice message couldn’t hurt. Just a short one where his voice is not that recognizable so his cover won’t be over immediately.

“Good night, Y/N,” he tells into his phone and then send the recording to her.

He watches the status change from delivered to read and a couple of minutes go by before she finally responds.

“Thank you. Now I know that you are real. I hope I’ll hear your voice in real life one day.”

“I hope that too.”

 His time spent undercover is coming to an end and he knows it’ll happen soon. It’s been weeks since they started chatting, almost an entire month and she’s been hinting her will to see his face and though he has been putting it off, he knows it has to happen.

Fate is playing under his hands, because he is traveling to Seattle for a few days, exactly when Y/N is traveling there to visit her parents.

“I hope you know you can’t leave without meeting finally,” she wrote when she found out they are going to be in the same city.

“It never even crossed my mind!” he wrote back chuckling to himself, however it brought him extreme anxiety that he is now going to be forced to come clean about who he really is.

He spends his whole flight to Seattle making up possible outcomes for their first official meeting. Not all of them end well and it’s just fueling his fear that he might lose her for not telling her the entire truth.

But she is a smart girl, she’ll see your reasoning, he tells himself, however he can’t entirely convince himself that it will be the case.

In hopes of squeezing in more than just one meeting into the weekend they agreed to meet almost first thing after he lands. So after checking into his hotel he heads into the city to finally meet her in real life in a local café she suggested for the occasion. Arriving to the place he is running a little late and she already texted him she’ll be waiting for him inside. Harry is wearing a beanie with shades to try to keep up his cover and it seems to be working, no one has approached him yet.

Stepping inside the cozy looking place his eyes roam around and immediately finds her sitting in the corner, pouring sugar into her coffee, not even paying attention to the door at the moment, but truth is she’s been intensely staring at it in the past ten minutes she has been there.

Harry takes a deep breath and nods to himself before heading in her way, hands shaking nervously as he stops at her table.

She glances up at him with innocent eyes, a smile spreads across her face as she sees that her mysterious Harry has arrived and she doesn’t recognize her until he finally takes his sunglasses off.

Harry watches her face turn from happiness to surprise then utter shock as she realizes who is standing in front of him.

“You are… my Harry?” she asks, confusion laced through her voice and Harry can’t ignore how she called him her Harry. He likes the ring of it.

“M’orry if it’s a little too much f’you, I really didn’t know how to tell ya.”

Keeping his eyes on her he pulls out the other chair at the table and takes a seat across her while she is still staring at him with a shocked and puzzled expression sitting on her face. Then she looks around in suspicion as he wiggles his coat off his arms, before her eyes settle on him once again.

“It’s not an episode of Catfish, right?” she asks making him chuckle.

“It is not, don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry if I’m being weird, but this was literally the last thing I was expecting,” she admits leaning back in her seat. “I believed things like this only happen in movies.”

“Not just there,” he smiles, slowly relieving that she is still sitting there and hasn’t ran out. It’s going way better than he expected.

She needs a little time to put the whole picture together and befriend the thought that she indeed just developed a friendship with Harry Styles through her videos for her brother. The absurdity is still shocking to her, but the more time passes by with him still sitting there, the more she finds peace with it.

Once the shock and surprise is gone they slowly realize they are seeing each other in real life finally. Harry feels overwhelmed, she is even more breathtaking than in her videos and through texts. He is mesmerized by her whole being and could listen to her talk in person forever, he wouldn’t get bored of her.

Time stops existing as they sit at the little café, talking for hours even though that’s all they’ve been doing through texts, but they just can’t get enough of hearing each other, seeing each other’s reaction and be able to see each other and not stare at a screen while talking.

Unfortunately, time never stopped just for the two of them and soon she realizes she needs to head back home. Harry doesn’t want to let go of her just yet so he offers to give her a ride, thanking himself for getting a rental for himself upon arriving. Y/N accepts the offer so the two of them head back to her parents’ home, soaking up the last minutes of their precious time spent together.

“Thank you for today, I really loved meeting you finally,” she smiles at him once they are parked on the driveway.

“I hope I didn’t shock you too much,” he chuckles scratching his chin.

“Just a little,” she admits before they both get out of the car and walking around it she stops in front of him, after a moment of hesitation she opts for a hug that he returns more than happily.

It feels as if her frame was perfectly sculpted to fit in his embrace and Harry can’t imagine how he could go this long without even seeing her in person. He knows it’s gonna be utter misery to be away from her after they leave the city.

“Will I see you before you take off?” she asks letting go of him. Harry looks down at her, the urge to kiss her growing bigger with each passing moment, but he is not sure if it would be appropriate to give it a try on their first time meeting.

“I’m free tomorrow for a lunch,” he tells her and she nods smiling.

“Then I’m free too,” she chuckles.

There’s an awkward moment where they are not sure what else should be done or said and the more they wait the weirder it’s getting so Harry clears his throat as he takes a step back, sad that he has to leave without feeling her lips on his, but he is not trying to be too greedy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he smiles walking back to his car. Y/N waves after him and sitting back to behind the wheel he takes a moment to himself to collect himself after everything that has happened today. His hands curl around the wheel and he is about to start the car when someone knocks on the window. Y/N is smiling at him through the glass and he rolls it down curiously.

“I just…” she starts hesitantly, her eyes wander down to his lips and Harry knows what’s about to happen, but it still catches him by surprise.

Y/N leans in through the window and presses her lips to Harry’s, capturing them in a sweet, long awaited first kiss they both have been dreaming of for quite a while. Harry smiles into the kiss, bringing his right hand up to cup her cheeks as they stretch the moment for as long as possible. Whenever one pulls back the other brings them back for just one more kiss that turns into two more, then three… It takes a long time for them to finally let go of each other.

“See you later, H,” she smiles backing out of the car and running up to the front door, smiling wildly as she waves in his way one last time before disappearing in the house.

 Lying in bed that evening Harry is scrolling through his Instagram feed when he finally realizes he can now follow her without a worry. He is quick to find her profile again and hit that follow button. He is happy to see she was already following him.

He is just about to put his phone aside and go to bed after such a busy but exciting day when a notification pops up on the screen.

Y/N has just uploaded a new video!

He taps on it quickly and her smiling face greets him from his phone’s screen.

“Hi Sammy! It’s me again. Welcome back to our channel,” she starts with a shy smile. The setting is new this time, he supposes it’s her parents’ home this time. “This is going to be a short video, but I wanted to tell you about something. Or someone.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat when he thinks about where it’s heading. He listens to her voice holding his breath.

“I met someone today. We’ve been talking for a while, but I could finally hug him today. His name is Harry, and he is a wonderful man. I think you two would get along well,” she says with a soft chuckle. “I love spending time with him and I hope he feels the same way. Actually…” Her eyes move up straight to the camera, something she doesn’t do often. She usually stares out the window or plays with Henry while talking. “I think he is watching it right now. Hi Harry!”

“Hello, Beautiful,” he greets her back with a smile as if she could hear him.

“I wanted to tell you how amazing you are making me feel. I hope I didn’t disappoint. I was so nervous to meet you today, I hope I lived up to what you imagined me to be.”

“You were so much better than that,” he answers again.

“Anyway… I hope you feel the same way. You are the first guy I’m talking about in an update, so appreciate it!” she tells him and he chuckles lightly. “I’ll see you soon, H. But until then… Know that I’m thinking about you.”

“M’thinking about you too, Angel.”

“Sammy, I miss you as always. I hope everything is well, can’t wait for your next email. I love you,” she smiles before the video ends.

Harry heads straight to the comments. This time he doesn’t leave a lengthy one, just a short line, but it has everything he wanted to tell her.

“I feel the same way.” The comment reads. Just a few seconds later comes the notification and he smiles sweetly at his phone.

Y/N liked the comment.

[13uswntimagines]

Your Ass Is Out of This World (Kelley x Reader)

Request: alex or kelley or sonnett x reader where they've been dating for a few years R is an astronaut for NASA and she gets to go to space

Author’s Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause without her, none of this would have happened. 

Kelley wasn’t quite sure how she had ended up standing next to a dive bar sipping a lukewarm beer on a Friday night. In her defense, Ali and Ashlyn had convinced her it would be fun and had promised to pay for the Uber rides both ways. It had been fun for a while, dancing with them to some old 70s songs on the light-up dance floor, but half an hour ago they had disappeared off into a hallway somewhere, and she had no intention of third-wheeling (she knew she should have convinced Alex to join them). But she also wasn’t going to leave without them, because she wasn’t convinced either of them were sober enough to take any kind of transportation safely (someone needed to be there to make sure they didn’t puke in someone’s car).

So here she was, standing by the bar waiting for her friends’ sexcapades to be over, nursing her drink. The clink of a glass settling in front of her caught her attention. She blinked at the bartender. “I didn’t order another one,” 

The man’s lips ticked up and he shrugged. “Lady on the end paid for it. Said you looked sad,” 

Kelley looked up, following the man’s eyes towards a woman standing a few seats down the bar from her. She was also standing alone but was dressed as though for a different event altogether. Kelley had embraced the 70s theme of the bar slightly, wearing a jumpsuit and a scarf around her head, but this woman had just thrown a white NASA shirt--like the one Kelley got for her little cousin at Target-- over a pair of black jeans. As she bobbed her head to the music she met Kelley’s eyes and smiled. 

Kelley took that as her invitation to approach. Kelley’s eyes traced her form, lingering on the white material. She didn’t know those came in adult sizes...

“You must be a star, I can't stop orbiting around you” Kelley smiled charmingly as she approached you, setting her beer on the bar beside you and settling in the seat to the left of yours. 

“I do believe I was the one to buy you the drink…” you said, your lips twitching as you tried to keep a serious expression. “Shouldn’t I be the one throwing pickup lines here?”

“You bought me the drink, so I get to be the one to woo you. I’m Kelley, are you from Mars? 'cuz I wanna explore you with curiosity.” Kelley said, wiggling her eyebrows at you, enjoying the light blush coloring your cheeks. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “that was terrible. I mean really good but absolutely awful.”

“At least I got you to smile, but you still haven’t told me your name.” Kelley laughed, taking a sip of her beer. She was prepared to lay on the horrible pick up lines for your entertainment. 

“I’m Y/n,” you said, putting down your drink and holding out your hand, “pleasure.”

“They call me the milky way...Pleasure You Can't Measure,” Kelley smiled, shaking your hand as you laughed and pulling you a little closer “Why look at the moon, if I can’t touch it? Why look at your lips, if I can't kiss them,” she said, winking so you knew she was completely joking. 

“How do you know so many of these?” You said, shaking your head in awe. “ All I know off the top of my head is ‘do you work for NASA? Because you’re out of this world!’”

“Ah, a magician never reveals her secrets,” Kelley whispered conspiratoryly, bringing her hand up to cover her lips. “but my team and I have definitely had flirt offs for bonding nights,” 

“Your team?” 

“Yeah, I play soccer for the US and Washington,” She shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge accomplishment. 

Your eyes widened and you nearly spat out your drink. “Didn’t they, like, just win a World Cup?” 

“Yeah, No biggie,” Kelley said, side-eyeing you as she took another sip. 

“No biggie?  I’m surprised you don’t have a swarm of paparazzi shadowing you, that’s incredible! Weren’t the USWNT like the most successful US team in soccer?’

“Hm, there’s not enough drama for them, but we don’t mind. How about you? What do you do beautiful?” Kelley hummed. 

“Oh. I work for NASA,” you said, gesturing at the shirt. “I can’t wait to bring some of those lines back to work.”

“What??” 

****

“So do they at least give you a good choice of flavors? So you don’t get bored and stuff?” Emily asked from across the table, licking her dripping I cream cone. 

When your girlfriend decided to introduce you to the team after their match against Colombia, you were quite surprised she had chosen an ice cream shop as a venue. But with how food motivated the youngins seemed, you realized how appropriate it was. 

“I mean,” you said, your spoon suspended in the air as you blinked at Emily, “ice cream isn’t the only thing we will eat. I’m going to be on the station for like 8 months. Ice cream is not a balanced diet.”

“But it’s the only one they sell in the stores. You don’t have to lie cause the veggie lovers are here,” The defender said, leaning across the table, as though it would prevent the rest of the table from hearing her. 

“Babe, you literally love most veggies too,” Lindsey rolled her eyes, using her thumb to wipe a spot of chocolate ice cream from Emily’s nose. 

“Actually, I heard they’re a pretty good selection of dehydrated fruits and veggies and MRE’s and Tortillas and stuff. Plus I get to take a few things from home…” You mumbled, leaning back. 

She couldn’t be serious right? There was no way she thought you were supposed to sustain yourself on horrible freeze-dried dairy products for that long. Not to mention, freeze-dried ‘astronaut’ products for the most part weren’t actually possible to bring to space, with how crumbly they are. You were more likely to eat actual ice cream on the space station (less chance for an errant crumb being inhaled or destroying an important piece of equipment) than that gift shop garbage. 

“Oh yeah, MRE sounds way more likely than just eating the stuff they literally label as being for astronauts…” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “What does that even stand for? ‘Must reject Emily?”

You opened your mouth to answer, eyebrows furrowed, only for Kelley to nudge you softly. 

“It’s not worth the fight babe, trust me. Not the brightest lighthouse if you know what I mean,” Your girlfriend made a swirling motion with her finger next to her temple. 

You leaned in closer so your lips were nearly touching her ear. “She’s not serious right?” 

“I never joke about ice cream,” Emily answered seriously. 

You blinked at her, looking to your girlfriend who just shrugged and raised her eyebrows. 

“I’m, I’m not sure if they have a flavor rotation system for ice cream flavors. We haven’t been… briefed on that yet,” you nodded seriously. 

…...

“Can you hear me?” Kelley said, tapping her fingers impatiently as your face appeared in the video call. 

“He- -utiful,” You smiled through the glitchy computer screen. Your waving was broken up like a bad claymation. You leaned in to make out the fuzzy figures standing behind your girlfriend, assuming she was at camp or something. 

Normal long distance sucked, but literally being off-planet really made things difficult. It wasn’t like Kelley could just text you when she missed you, or randomly call you when she missed you at 3 am. Sure, she could email and you made a tremendous effort to schedule calls once a month, but it was still incredibly difficult (and slightly weird that a NASA tech dude had to monitor each call to make sure the connection stayed up). And sometimes even the best video-calling technology had issues. Like today (when a giant satellite or piece of space trash would block the signal). 

“Are you hav- -un at -amp?” You asked, grabbing your floating water pouch pushing out a sip sized water drop. 

“Yeah, it’s great,” Kelley said, watching you munch on your water. When you first got on the station you sent her pictures of artwork you made out of different drops of colored water- specifically making a giant water ‘soccer ball’ for her. Then you tried to boop it around and ended up losing control, amusing all your crewmates who watched you trying not to run into too many walls. “We’re looking forward to playing against Brazil on Friday, should be brutal.” 

“We’re set to be ov- Florida on -day, so I’ll try and tune into the ga-. Catch a nice - view,” You nodded, wiggling your eyebrows (which looked more like you having a seizure due to how badly you were pixelated). 

While Kelley wasn’t entirely sure what you were saying, she went ahead and nodded. “Let me know what you think!”

“Wh- color -it are you w-ing? Y- look -uper s-xy in the -ue,” you said, floating up in a ‘draw me like one of your french girls’ pose. 

“You’re favorite one,” Kelley said, winking at you. 

“-es!!” You cheered “-ake p-ture -or -“ the screen flickered dangerously for a second. Before a wobbly picture returned. 

“Babe you’re breaking up, I can’t tell what you’re saying. Y/n. Are you there? UGh. I love you! We’ll talk soon.”

“-ove y- -oo” 

Kelley blew a slow kiss to her camera before she heard a deep voice saying “Sorry ma’am. The connection was lost. Y’all still have five minutes on your scheduled call- Want me to try calling again? See if the signal improves?”

“Yeah,” Kelley shifted, rubbing the bridge of her nose as typing sounds echoed through the speaker. How she was going to make it through four more months of this she had no idea. 

“What if like the ship was attacked by aliens or something,” Sonnett whispered from her left, staring at the blank screen with real trepidation. 

“Not possible ma’am,” she heard him laugh. “But I doubt I would have the right level of security clearance to know.”

“great.”

Kelley grabbed a pen and marked a day off the calendar hanging on her wall. So much for ‘phone call with Y/n.’ She sighed. Just a few months to go. 

****

Gravity fucking sucked. It was disorienting and heavy and made you sick to your stomach. Space station alums always talked about re-entry and how bad that was, but you thought sitting in a NASA hospital bed while your equilibrium readjusted was way worse than your fireball craft plummeting into the ocean. 

“This fucking sucks,” You groaned, again throwing your hand over to pull out the IV. You hated how hard it was to move (and how you actually had to hold up a cup of water to get a drink but that was beside the point). 

“Whoa babe, I know you’re a little out of it right now, but that has to stay in. Just try and relax for a little while,” Kelley said, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of your knuckles. 

You frowned at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Don’t wanna be here. Wanna be home with you.” 

“I know, but you gotta stay here until the re-entry symptoms have worn off a little more,” She said again. She knew that you weren’t going to be 100% when you stepped out of the spacecraft, but she hadn’t expected you to be so out of it. You were sick to your stomach and entirely unable to walk without assistance. 

The doctors assured her that you would be fine (residual effects from not being in gravity for so long and the impact of the landing or whatever), but it was still difficult to watch. It didn’t help that you were a horrendous patient. 

“Just watch the game. The US is even in Blue,” Kelley tried to coax. Even she was beginning to grow restless. But you couldn’t leave until you could keep down solid foods. 

“I don’t want to watch. You’re not in it,” You said, grabbing the remote from her and turning the television off. Then you tried to set the remote in the air, but instead of hovering like it should have done, it dropped to the ground. 

“Alright, commander Y/l/n. It’s dinner time,” one of the NASA hospital nurses said, bringing in a tray for you. Kelley thanked them as they left since you were too dazed to think of it.  

“God this food sucks, I hate jello ” you grumbled, lifting the spoon in front of your face (fully expecting it to float so you could take your bite) and dropping it as you want to open the pudding packet instead. “I just want a big juicy cheeseburger. With bacon and onions and-“ You trailed off, your mouth watering at the thought. You hadn’t had proper food in 8 months, and it had been your major cravings food. 

“A side of diabetes” she scoffed, picking up the discarded remote and spoon, “And are you going to keep dropping things everywhere?” She asked, carefully filling a spoon with chocolate pudding and guiding it to your mouth. 

“Fuck Newton. Things are supposed to float,” 

****

You loved the soft skin behind Kelley’s ear. It was so smooth, and it always smelt like a mix of her perfume, shampoo, and something inherently Kelley. It was a bonus that your exploration of the area always sent a shiver down her spine. You ran your nose along the skin there, nibbling on her ear before moving down her neck. Leaving little kisses along your path. Kelley sighed, sleepily scratching your scalp and tilting her head to the side to encourage you to continue. 

“You,” Kelley said. “ I like you.”

“Hm, I’m glad. It would be kinda scary if you were doing this with someone you didn’t like,” you mumbled against her skin, unwilling to part with it for even a moment. Kelley giggled at the tickling sensation. How you still had so much energy after you had thoroughly worn her out getting… reacquainted she would never know.

 “But what do you like most. Tell me, babe,” You said, moving your lips a little lower, towards where her shoulder and neck met. 

“I love… your ass. It’s out of this world.” She said sleepily, reaching around to grab her favorite asset of yours. 

“Well, it has been,” You laughed, pulling away reluctantly so you could look her in the eyes. 

“Shut up you goof,” She rolled her eyes, grabbing a pillow and whacking you lightly. You fell over dramatically, pulling her so she was on top of you. 

“Hm, I’m your goof,” 

“Yeah. You are. And babe?” She smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“Hmm?” You hummed against her lips. She leaned back to look you in the eyes, one forearm across your chest and her other hand beside your head supporting her. 

“No more space travel for a while?” 

 “Pinky promise,” You said, wiggling your hand so your littlest finger connected with hers. 

“Good. I can’t believe I was dating someone from TEXAS for a while.” Kelley pretended to shudder. “Jus think, one of your coworkers might have been a Houston dash supporter!”

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from the Lost Tomb part 6.1

🎶 Back on the bullshit I never got off🎶

Is this another unnecessary story arc?? With three sections??

Yes.

Wushanju Crew Chat

Wang Meng: You know, I’m someone who appreciates consistency in my day. My life is pleasant, very few issues indeed if you ignore the big ones. And yet. Yet here we are. With unresolved messes at the end of a day.

Wang Pangzi: SOMETHIN YOU NEED TO SAY MARY POPPINS

Wang Meng: We need to talk about Huo Daofu and the glittery bead curtain.

Wang Pangzi: MY FAVE TEEN WIZARD SERIES

Wu Xie: did you turn on that suggested word thingy lol

What glittery bead curtain

Wang Meng: I closed the shop at 6:00pm this evening on the dot. I locked all of the doors in and out of the shop very carefully, especially in light of recent events. The hall leading to the back office was empty. I filed the day’s paperwork, updated and sent emails, and then spent an extra hour organizing receipts and dusting. When I came back out, there were glittery iridescent bead curtains over the front entrance to the shop.

What could this mean?

Wu Xie: uh that you need to spend less time at work?

Wang Pangzi: LOOKS LIKE WE GOT ONE FOR THE DETECTIVES. THE MYSTERY OF THE BEDAZZLED THRESHOLD COMMENCES

Wu Xie: I think we can be relatively secure in thinking a glittery bead curtain isn’t a hostile threat

Wang Pangzi: SAYS YOU

I REMEMBER YE OLDE EXPLORATION TIMES HOW FAST THINGS GOT FURIOUS

BEANBAG CHAIRS SET AFLAME AND LEFT ON DOORSTEPS AS A WARNING

GLITTERBOMBS FOR DAYS

PANIC AT THE DISCO

Wang Meng: Ugh, forget it. I should have just taken them down, regardless of who they belong to.

Zhang Qiling: They are not mine.

Wang Pangzi: A BOLD STATEMENT COMING FROM OUR PRIME SUSPECT

SOMEONE QUICK GO DRAW CHALK AROUND THE DOORWAY TO MARK THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Wang Meng: Do we know anyone who *would* sneak in and put those up? For whatever reason, legal or not? Even as a joke?

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU SERIOUSLY ASKING WHETHER WE KNOW ANYONE WHO IS CHAOTIC, AN OUTLAW, A PRANKSTER AND/OR SNEAKS INTO PLACES

BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN OUR SUSPECT LIST IS LITERALLY EVERYONE WE KNOW EXCEPT FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: okay let’s think about this; for starters, I didn’t break into my own shop

Wang Meng: You would be in danger of doing some work in the process, that’s true.

Wang Pangzi: LOL

Wu Xie: ANYWAY let’s keep going. For example, Xiao Ge would only break in somewhere for a good reason. Xiao Ge, did you do this?

Zhang Qiling: No.

Wu Xie: okay who’s next

Wang Pangzi: YOU REALLY MISSED YOUR CALLING IN INTERROGATION TIANZHEN

REALLY PUT THE SCREWS TO HIM

IN MORE WAYS THAN ONE;)

Zhang Qiling: How can we be certain *you* didn’t do it?

Wang Meng: Admittedly that was my guess, too.

Wang Pangzi: WOW I SEE HOW IT IS

BLAME PANGZI AS USUAL

ANYWAY HOW DOES HUO DAOFU FIT INTO THIS

Wu Xie: Oh yeah him! Oops I got distracted

Wang Pangzi: UR ENTIRE HISTORY IN A NUTSHELL

Wu Xie: Ugh fuck off

Wang Meng what abt Huo Daofu??

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wu Xie: oh sorry xiaoge I didn’t realize you wouldn’t have spent much time around him last year

He and I go way back

Zhang Qiling: Way back where?

Babysitters Club Chat

Wang Pangzi: I CANNOT BELIEVE HE IS BUYING YOUR INNOCENT ACT

IF YOU EVER TURN TO EVIL WE ARE FUCKED

Zhang Qiling: ?

Wang Pangzi: YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHO HUO DAOFU IS

YOU WERE EXTREMELY POLITE AND BORDERLINE FRIENDLY TOWARDS HIM

Zhang Qiling: I wanted him to feel welcome. I wanted to be sure he understands he has a place here. A specific place.

Wang Pangzi: FOR A SILENT GUY YOU ARE A MASTER AT SUBTLE POWER PLAYS IM ALL TINGLY

LMAO THE IDEA OF WU XIE LEAVING YOU FOR HUO DAOFU IS HILARIOUS AND ALSO NOPE

Zhang Qiling: Rationally, I understand that.

Main Chat

Wang Meng: Huo Daofu is coming for the weekend—didn’t Wu Xie tell you? Wu Xie asked me to check in a week ahead so we could start getting ready for his arrival

Wu Xie: oh yeah I did do that

Wang Meng: Fortunately I know you and so I already went ahead and took care of everything.

Re: the trip

He made a deal with Wu Xie’s doctor that he would do periodic checkups on him here at Wushanju

Bc Wu Xie hates being in the hospital

And frankly the hospital hates him too

Wang Pangzi: FAMILIARITY BREEDS CONTEMPT LOL

I FORGOT HUO DAOFU WAS DOING THAT

A VERY CHIVALROUS GESTURE

WOULDNT YOU SAY

XIOAGE

Zhang Qiling: Is it safe for him to be here with a criminal loose on the premises?

Wu Xie: Right, back to the curtain! Let’s focus on the curtain, hmm?

Wang Pangzi: I AM SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS WEEKEND.

ALSO WE CAN RULE OUT XIAO BAI FOR THE CURTAIN SHE JUST SENT A SELFIE FROM NORWAY COVERED IN GREEN SLIME WITH ZERO CONTEXT, UR PROTEGE INDEED

Wu Xie: okay but who else would do something so oddly charming yet illegal and—wait.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: hey, Glasses hasn’t been in touch lately right?

Li Cu: uh nope

Unless u count the outdated memes

Why, is money or Xie Yuchen missing

Or is this curtain related, I saw Wang Meng’s tweet

Wu Xie: haha no nothing to worry about really

(I mean maybe? but who knows)

Wang Meng is probably just getting a little paranoid in his old age

Li Cu: better than getting reckless and stupid as hell in ur old age

Wu Xie: …hey:(

Unknown Number: Li Cu, we discussed this.

Wu Xie: ????????

Li Cu: *sigh* fine, reckless and stupid as heck

Unknown Number: …close enough.

Wu Xie: EXCUSE who is that

Madame, Sir, Non-Binary Tree Spirit, etc—whomst the fuck

Are you

Li Cu is underage FYI

So Im staying on this chat

Li Cu: okay first of all, it’s not like that

Second of all I’m literally not underage I s2g

u threw the embarrassing surprise bday party, okay so u should remember

And C, that’s my counselor and I invited her. She wanted to meet u and I knew u wouldn’t agree to a visit so I added her to our chat

we have been discussing u

Wu Xie: Oh wow!!!!!!!

What a surprise:)

hi so nice to meet you:)

Main Chat:

Wu Xie: RED FUCKING ALERT

FUCK THE CURTAIN FUCK THE VISIT

IVE BEEN TRICKED INTO FAMILY THERAPY BY A SMUG TEENAGER WHO TEXTS UNKNOWN NUMBERS

Wang Meng: I assume that means something to someone here?

Not my problem? Good.

Wang Pangzi: AHAHAHA GOD I LOVE LI CU

HES LIKE ADORABLE KARMA FOR ALL THE SHIT YOUVE PUT ME THROUGH

IM RAISING HIS ALLOWANCE

Wu Xie: wait i give him an allowance

has he been collecting on two allowances??

Zhang Qiling: Three. I knew about both of yours.

Snake Eyes Chat

Wu Xie: so uh may I ask your name?

Unknown Number: you can call me Ms. Lee.

Now, if you’re comfortable talking in this format, why don’t you tell me how things have been going?

Wu Xie: oh everything is normal and fine and safe as usual, why do you ask:)

Li Cu: I heard about ur necklace thing. nice of you to NOT mention it.

another dangerous adventure. again. prick.

Ur lucky your cool boyfriend cares about you so much or you’d have already died like ten years ago

Wu Xie: lol try twenty years ago

Li Cu: That isn’t funny.

Unknown Number: …What?

Wu Xie: shit ur right, okay that was a bit glib, my apologies.

…I use humor as a coping mechanism?

Unknown Number: and Li Cu, how do you feel about that?

Li Cu: he doesn’t even know what that phrase means

He doesn’t cope, like ever

In fact

It’s kind of why we met

Which is a funny story in retrospect tbh

Wu Xie: haha what are you talking about sweetie hahaha need I remind you of certain anecdotes that could idk send me to jail maybe lmao

Unknown Number: …You know, perhaps an in-person meeting might be more effective?

Wu Xie: haha such a nice idea but why

Main Chat

Wu Xie: If I go to jail, I’ll have to create alliances for protection, right, that’s how it works on tv

Who do we know who spends time in jail

Other than Hei Yangjing, he’s only ever there for like 12 hours and i suspect he just gets himself arrested bc he enjoys the breaking out process

Also how’s the curtain case coming along

Zhang Qiling: Has someone threatened you?

Wu Xie: well not yet but soon I’m sure

Wang Pangzi: WHERE WAS THIS PARANOIA WHEN WE GOT TAKEN TO THE TEA HOUSE HUH

Snake Eyes Minus Your Fucking Therapist Chat

Li Cu: okay how tf did u pull off spy and undercover shit

u are sus as hell

Wu Xie: damn son is it pick on Wu Xie night

I missed the flyers or I would’ve invited my uncles

Also re: the curtain it’s been mostly solved

Li Cu: I’m not your son, idiot.

Wu Xie: …oh. Sorry, sorry, you’re right, bad choice of words, haha

Forget i said anything

Delete this chat even

Li Cu: shit I meant

Legally, biologically, I meant—

shit

…I turn into an asshole as a coping mechanism?

Wu Xie: oh that’s all okay! I have to go do something else now let me know if you need anything okay kid thanks!

Li Cu: goddamn it calm down who’s the kid here

lemme organize my thoughts so I can articulate my emotions fuckin healthily or w/e

Ugh maybe for like one afternoon we could go to Ms. Lee together? She knows how to word stuff

Wu Xie: uh…okay.

Li Cu: Anyway you don’t need to worry abt jail

As if you would survive prison for one day you’d piss off half the place in like an hour or less

I gave Ms. Lee the heavily edited version of the desert highway to hell roadtrip and i discussed it more in terms of like “nightmarish but still wouldn’t take any of it back”

Well maybe the sand

that shit was everywhere

Wu Xie: oh kiddo. It’s fine, really…You don’t have to explain yourself to me.

Li Cu: no, no it’s just

I do technically have a dad

who is an asshole. Being a son doesn’t really mean shit to me bc it sucked.

So you need to stop backing down just cuz ur guilty abt stuff. I’m really really glad ur not my dad in a good way. Do u get what I mean there

Where’s the mafia widower I followed into hell, huh

Wu Xie: Ur a good kid, despite my influence. I’m really glad you have someone to talk to after everything I…after everything. Wow this talking through feelings thing is kind of weird but nice ur right

Jfc no wonder it took me and xiaoge so long to—you know what, we won’t get into that

Li Cu: ew tmi

Also re: this week’s recent necklace fuckery

I moved my stuff here, I live here now

So you can’t die anymore

Or else…Idk I don’t have a threat planned

anyways abt the curtain

Wu Xie: oh my god, kid…kid you have no idea

I am in tears.

Li Cu: see this is why I can’t be nice to you I can sense the hallmark channel from here

Ugh don’t be sad in ur room that’s dumb

Go hug Pangzi or something

Maybe delete this chat

Or the curtain thing

Focus on the curtain thing

Just stfu and go away

Wu Xie: <3 screenshotting this <3

Li Cu: I take back everything I said. This is why Xiao Ge sleeps on the roof. I hope the ghosts of the Wangs put up that curtain to strangle you somehow. Go die in a stupid way, it’ll suit you.

Wu Xie: lol don’t worry I’m not gonna embarrass you with it or anything

Main Chat

Wu Xie: omg guys look how cute my kid is *sending screenshot*

Wang Pangzi: I MEAN

HE IS WISHING YOU DEATH

BUT SURE

CUTE I GUESS

Wu Xie: no but read the whole thing:):):)

Zhang Qiling: It is indeed very hard to remain angry with you. And you are welcome to join me on the roof.

Wang Pangzi: UH NOPE

NOT WHENI HAD TO BLEACH THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN

DONT TRAUMATIZE THE EARLY BIRDS THEYRE ALREADY FREAKED OUT BY U YA HOODIE CRYPTID

Wu Xie: ok true but babe ur like a sexy cryptid

Wang Meng: so, are we just accepting that there is a glittery curtain of unknown origin, and Huo Daofu is going to have to see it while he’s waiting for you at Wushanju bc you’re going to family therapy?

Wu Xie: right

Wang Pangzi: SHOULDA TAKEN EARLY RETIREMENT HUH

Wang Meng: I’m going to go dust something.

Unnamed Chat:

Unknown number: so the curtain…

Unknown number 2: yep, not my best work but I kinda panicked last minute u know

Unknown number: what is in the water at Wushanju that makes everyone dumb and attractive

Unknown number 2: relax they’ll figure it out

[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.

[dianapana]

SH Day 2: Fashion Statement

Modern AU, OOC

@sasuhinamonth

Bullies exist everywhere you look, in school, at work, on the street and most of all, on the internet. Countless bullies hide behind the anonymity the internet provides them in order to bring down strangers for no apparent reason. But there is always a reason, jealousy, an inferiority complex, a superiority complex, or plain and simple the bully is a pile of trash and no one should call it a human being. One of the worst things one can do when being active on social media is read the comments, because no matter how many positive comments there are, one bad comment outweighs them all. Scrolling through my Instagram I see the perfect example of this issue. Hinata is barely an acquaintance, I have not seen her since middle school almost a decade ago, she’s not active on any social media, or at least she wasn’t until today. The picture in front of me brings back all of my past thoughts of her, how pretty her face looked, how refreshing and pleasant her lower voice tone was; out of most people I was aware of at the time, she was one of the least annoying. The only thing that bothered me at times was her meek demeanour, how easy she’s fold under the pressure of bullies; and it would appear that she had not changed in that particular category.

The picture was there, I liked it, I looked through the comments, I saw all the negative ones, I saw them misgendering her due to her short hair and baggy clothes, I saw them calling her names; and then there was nothing, because the picture no longer existed. Much like in school, the bully applied pressure on her, and she caved in on herself and chose to hide.

I wish I had taken a screenshot of the picture to post myself, but that would have been an invasion of privacy. She looked older and more mature, her hair was much shorter than in middle school, almost a buzz cut. She had always worn baggy clothes, but her style developed to streetwear, all in all, the picture was, in my opinion, a work of art. But as soon as it appeared, it disappeared. I can’t explain why it bothers me this much the fact that she took it down, but it just does.

I hate all the entitled fucks that think people own them anything. Females do not own them femininity, males don’t own them masculinity and gender non-conforming people don’t own them an androgynous appearance. Gender and fashion style are different issues, they can reflect each other or not. People use clothes for various reasons, as art, as means of expression, or they use them to hide. We talked about this during one of my courses in gender studies in university and it fucked with my brain how many people, young people that are supposably ‘woke’ heard that for the first time. I was shocked how many were unaware of things that I consider common sense.

I have the urge to reach out, assure her that the shit those incompetent fucks commented is the furthest thing from fact. Maybe I also feel guilt, because I was aware she was bullied in school and never helped, my apathy always made me so sure that it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t my issue to fix, it wasn’t my battle to fight, and this isn’t either; but I’ve also learned to understand that being quiet might not be as hurtful as actively attacking the person, but it’s damn near close enough. So, I click on her blank profile and shoot her a short message. ‘the pic looked nice. U didn’t have to delete it just cuz some ppl don’t know what style is’

It was partly to comfort her, and partly to prove to myself that I’ve become better even in the slightest. I press the lock button on my phone and the screen turns black, I put it screen down on my bed and leave the room trying to fool myself and the universe that I don’t care if she replies or not.

I return to my work desk, continuing this charade, I am actively trying to not think about it, but the more I try not to think about it, the more I think about it. There is something about a 24-year-old Hinata looking the way she does, yet listening to haters, that just doesn’t sit well with me. I’m still in deep thought about the issue when my laptop dings, letting me know I received an email. I half expect it to be Hinata, but it’s work-related and my focus turns to that for the time being. Work keeps me busy for the remaining of the day, enough to push the whole issue out of my mind for real. In a blink of an eye over 9 hours have passed.

I wasn’t able to fully finish everything I wanted, due to some issues but I have to call it a day, since I worked overtime quite a lot. I go back to my bedroom and pick up my phone ready to order some delivery for the night when I see that Hinata responded.

“That was very thoughtful of you, thank you for the kind message.”

“I agree that I shouldn’t let myself be brought down, but it’s devastating in the moment.”

“I’ll try again.”

Her last message makes me click back on her profile to see that she reposted the picture with the caption saying ‘fuck you’. A sense of pride flows into my body, and I can’t fight the urge to comment as well, ‘fuck them all’. I go back to our little chat.

“Im glad u decided to post it again.”

I’m trying to formulate a compliment that doesn’t sound weird, I don’t feel like we are close enough for me to call her beautiful or pretty without it sounding like I am flirting, stunning sounds extreme, sexy and hot feel somewhat disgusting; yet all these five adjectives describe her, because she is beautiful, pretty, stunning, hot and sexy. I’m in the midst of this internal battle when I receive a reply.

“I am too. Thank you again”

I don’t feel like I deserve thanks, so I decide not to write back ‘you are welcome’, but I still want to compliment her so I click back to look at the picture, seeing whether having the picture in front of me will help. I’m lowkey annoyed when I get a notification that I have a new message from her, I am hell bound on finding a compliment and she is hell bound on stopping me. Either way, I click on the message, but upon reading it, my annoyance dies.

“I’m actually in Konoha for the first time in forever. I was thinking…if you maybe want to meet up? I’m here for a month, let me know if and when is a good time for you 😊”

Under normal circumstances, an invitation to ‘hang out’ from any former classmate be it elementary, middle or high school would annoy me further and I’d turn it down immediately. But for some reason, the idea of meeting Hinata after so many years, seeing what she is up to, interacting with her now as adults, makes me oddly enthusiastic. I reply before I can overthink the issue.

“Sure, we can meet, I’m free every Wednesday and throughout the weekend.”

Her reply is almost instant. “That’s perfect! See you Saturday” Reading her message makes me forget what day it is, so I have to look at my phone’s calendar; Saturday is the day after tomorrow, in less than 48hs I will see Hinata. My feelings are conflicted, they lay somewhere between nervousness, which is new, and giddiness, which is even newer. In order to calm myself, I do what I always do, set a goal. By Saturday I’ll have an appropriate compliment for the picture and her, it will have more impact if I say it face-to-face anyway, yes that’s the reason I want to see her, so I can feel as if I completed this little mission of mine, no other reason…

[palbabor-writes]

hullo there

question, question. 

i got a WIP idea & i did a little world building to spark some joy - so now i have these bullet points, and i’ll likely write this, but i wanna see if anyone is interested in me doing a post... cuz it’s... levi... again... 

*insert sweat emoji*

and a, uh, college AU...

anyway, more under the cut. 

lemme know what you think? pwease?

Teaches Real Analysis for Graduate students

It’s a tough class to slip into; only offered in Fall and Summer & only available the first three days of Senior and Graduate registration

You’ve looked over the class schedule - asked around the campus - got your advisor on speed-dial - you’re determined to get in this Fall

Come hell or high water - you’re walking the fucking stage in December 

But there’s a snag

Apparently the professor you want, the one you’ve known for the last three years, and have a great rapport with, is taking this semester off

Something about over work? Or maybe it was a time share that was about to expire?

Whatever it is - it’s a goddamn wrench in your finely tuned plans

At 7am, Monday morning, you’re at your desk, mug of coffee in one hand, fingers of your right diligently poised over the trackpad

Click, click, return, one final strike of the keyboard, and you’re in

Registered for MAT 8811 Complex Analysis & Number Theory (Fall:1) MWF 8am - 10:45am

And with professor…

Who?

One Ackerman, L.

Huh, you ponder, stiff legs stretching under the table as you cup your steaming mug to your lips. Never heard of him.

As a rule, you usually don’t bother with those professor aggregator sites

It’s all bullshit. 

You should know, you were an adjunct last spring, and the reviews you got were middling at best.

Who cares if anyone thinks he’s easy

This is a graduate math class for fucks sake - nothing is easy when you’re working on a masters

But your dawdling keystrokes have another idea in mind, and before you can blink you’re clacking their name into the search function

Oh. 

He’s… got some good reviews. Fair. Easy to understand, and… bite-sized? Okay

A strange adjective for a math professor but whatever… guess time will tell

August 22nd 

It’s too hot for this, you think, adjusting your backpack straps as you dash up the last flight of stairs. Why can’t we start in September? It doesn’t even feel like fall when the temps are hovering in the mid 90’s (32 for my celsius babes)

Thankfully, Professor Ackerman is in one of the older classrooms - so it’s spacious, cool, and blissfully dim - what with recessed fluorescents that likely haven’t been changed since their installation in the mid 1960s

You take a seat toward the back, flicking on your laptop and arranging your materials 

Not that you’ll use them today

Syllabus day is always easy - a waste of time, really. If there’s one thing that should be compiled into an email, it’s this

So you open up a few windows, poke around on a couple of websites, order some shoes, and, oh, looks like two of your favorite shops have a sale on. Maybe today won’t be so bad after all

You’re just about to toss another item into your cart when the overhead projector starts up that low pitched whine 

Blinking, you look up from the brightness of your screen to the front of the lecture hall

Odd. You didn’t think… you saw the professor even come in… and… why are the light still dimmed?

Was he sitting in one of the seats?

You look around at your peers, but most are simply tugging out binders, notepads, one is clicking on a recording device, no one is acting like anything is out of the ordinary so you shift your focus back to your screen - adding an additional pair of shoes to your already overburdened cart

Treat yourself, right?

You’re so engrossed in your rapid fire clicks and the frantic recitation of your card number that you don’t see the powerpoint flicker to life

Or the sharp eyes of the man who’s taken a seat on the bottom lip of the raised platform

There’s always one, he muses, tapping his electronic clicker against the heel of his booted foot

They think they’re slick; what with all that engrained tech, the subtle narrowing of their gaze, a distracted pass here, a well timed question there - well, we’ve all gotta learn things the hard way sometimes, don’t we?

“That’s all I have for you,” a deep voice calls out, making you jump in your poorly padded seat. “Textbook is for sale at one of those kiosks the school bookstore sets up. But the link I provided on the slide should take you to a free to use PDF. Stick it to the man and all that jazz. Any questions?”

Yes, you think, slamming your laptop closed. Like when did a presentation start? And where the hell even are you?

Finally, you spot him. He’s perched on the steps, legs haphazardly crossed, elbows resting on his raised knees. There’s… an intensity to him. Maybe it’s that jet black hair, or the cold look in his sleep weary eyes, but something about this man just oozes a loud and clear, “don’t fuck with me,” vibe

And you, idiot that you are, just missed his entire… lecture? What the hell even was that? Did he just toss some slides up and call it a day?

As the class filters out he remains where he is - but when you step up beside him, he graces you with a bored stare

“Yes?”

Best course of action… be… honest?

“Hi,” you blurt, molars gripping indentations into the side of your mouth. “I… I’m in, uh, your class.”

He blinks dispassionately. “You don’t say?”

Crap. “Yeah, and, er, I didn’t… I think I missed some of your presentation. With the lights half off I didn’t… see you start it.”

“Half?” he questions, knocking a few rogue strands of onyx hair from his brow. “That’s odd. Cuz from where I’m sitting, it looked like you missed all of it. Lemme guess…” And here he pauses to give you a swift once over with his pewter eyes. “Online shopping?”

What a… a… your outrage dies in your throat when he swivels back to your widened gaze

Something about this… feels...

He waits for your reply, untangling his legs and bracing his hands behind him as he peers up at you. “Go on,” he taunts, a black brow arching sardonically. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

notes: (ᓀ ᓀ)

[ri-ahhh]

Riding Grayson cuz he hurt his foot 🥺

Hahaha stop why is that so funny to me? Just..

“Ow, fuck!”

You pull away from Grayson’s mouth and look at him concernedly. You’re laying on your sides, naked from the waists up and kissing heavily. You had just started to turn over, pulling Grayson with you so he could settle on top of you, when he had cried out in pain.

He’s still catching his breath from your deep, heated kisses, but now he’s got a wince on his face and he’s reaching down to clutch at his foot. You look down with him and see the swollen bruise coloring his big toe and they very top part of his foot right beneath it. 

It looks painful enough but you both know it’s not broken. Grayson had insisted on going to get it x-rayed, only to find out it was just a badly stubbed toe. For someone who preaches about mental and physical betterment, all that seems to go out the window when he’s doing stupid things that consistently give him stupid injuries. He not-so-secretly thrives off the attention he gets from it all.

He’s a drama queen, but he’s your drama queen. You’ll roast the shit out of him later for how much of a baby he’s being, but you’re still very much in the mood for his dick, and you don’t want to kill the mood by bringing down his ego right now.

You’ll play into it for now, though. You fix a concerned pout to your swollen lips, cupping his cheeks and stroking them with your thumbs gently. “Oh, are you okay, baby?” you ask, the unavoidable tinge of mockery in your tone going completely over his head. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, stroking his hand up and down your side, dipping it under your waistband to squeeze your ass. “I don’t think I’ll be able to be on top at all, though.”

You can work with that, but you have to hide your amused smirk in his neck under the guise of tucking your face there to suckle gentle kisses there as you push him onto his back. One of your legs swings over his, and you start rocking against his solid erection, bringing you both back to that excited state you were in just a few moments ago. “It’s okay, Gray. You sit back, and let me take care of you.”

He grips your hips in his hands with a moan, and nuzzles his nose against your hair to coax your face back to his. You happily oblige, slipping your tongue past his lips with a sigh as you start working his own sweats down from where they're already sitting low on his hips.

Once you’re both completely naked, you settle between his legs and spend an inordinate amount of time worshipping his cock. He’s thick and hard and standing proud and tall in front of you, clearly unaffected by the pain in Grayson’s foot. You’ll never complain about getting to have him in your mouth, though, and you give him the best sloppy suck he’s had in a while. The Samsung spin cycle, in the sophisticated words of Noel Miller. 

Despite how pretty he looks falling apart above you, his moans and whimpers music to your ears, you don’t let him cum. You do want to take care of him, like you said, but you also want to get yours. He whines when you lift completely off his dick, but you see his eyes light up in your peripheral when you turn around and straddle his waist again.

“Yes, baby,” he mumbles behind you. One of his hands grabs your hip, the other lining up the head of his cock with your entrance. You’re sitting up on your knees, and you glance over your shoulder to catch his eye, both of you checking each other’s readiness as you sink down on him. 

He fills you up so good like this, stretching you out and reaching so deep you swear you can feel him in your lower belly. You start to bounce straight up on him, tossing your head back so your hair tickles his abdomen, grabbing your tits and tugging at your nipples.

Grayson grunts behind you, and you see his legs twitch in front of you like he wants to plant his feet on the bed and fuck up into you, but he stops himself because of his foot. Your legs are starting to tire anyways, so you lean forward to brace yourself on his tattooed legs as you start to throw it back rhythmically on his dick. He’s not as deep like this, but you both appreciate the new angle as he hits a completely new spot inside of you.

You also know that he’s got a better view of your ass this way, and you grin when you hear his breaths pick up and his groans get more desperate. Both of his hands grip your ass cheeks, pulling them apart so he can see your pussy lips gripping him tight and the cute wink of your asshole looking back at him. He traces his thumb along the wetness clinging to your pussy and that’s coating his cock, before circling it against your back hole, pushing until it slips inside.

The pressure feels amazing, but you’re only a little disappointed when he moans louder at the feel of your pussy clenching extra tight around him and how your ass swallows his thumb. You know that sound means he’s right on the edge. Sure enough, he’s grunting, “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum, baby!”

You encourage him with filthy whispers and quiet little seductive moans as he shoots inside you, coating your walls in his nut. You slow down on top of him, and when you feel the last spurt, you rise off him gently. 

Grayson stares up at you like you're some kind of goddess, and he makes grabby hands for you as he reaches out with heavy arms. “C’mere...c’mere, please.”

You eagerly shuffle up his body, crying out instantly as his tongue swipes through the mess of your juices and his cum coating your pussy. Something about the idea of him eating you out and tasting himself mixed with your own arousal makes you cum harder, faster than usual, and as soon as he sucks your clit in his mouth, you’re shaking on top of him. 

Cut to later that afternoon, and you and both twins are hanging out in the living area, each doing your own thing answering emails or scrolling Instagram. You hand Grayson the ice pack he requested a few minutes ago, and watch him situate it on his foot where he wants it. 

“Babe, take a picture. I’m gonna add it to the video of me wiping out.”

You shake your head, but accept his proffered phone anyways. “You know, I’m starting to think I should be getting jealous. Every time you get remotely injured, you grovel to the internet to get sympathy from all the fangirls while I wait on you hand and foot.”

He knows you're joking, and once you hand him back his phone, you accept his kiss as an apology. “Yeah, but your sympathy is the only one I really care about.”

“Wow, how romantic.” You roll your eyes with a grin and rejoin Ethan in the kitchen. 

He’s looking at his brother with pure disdain as he chomps huge bites of his avocado toast into his mouth. “He’s such a fucking pussy.”

You grin and take a sip of your water. “Yeah, he’s really milking this one. TMI time, but he made me be on top this morning because apparently his toe hurt too bad to do any of the work.”

You expect Ethan to retch or do something equally as dramatized as what he claims his brother is doing, but he just stares at Grayson captioning his post on the couch. Finally he makes a face like ‘well done’ and shrugs. “I should try that in the future, actually. All I have to do is stub my toe falling off a skateboard and I’m getting a free ride?”

“Yeah, well, you better hope any girl falling for that is only half as generous as me, too,” you laugh, punching Ethan in the arm before going back to the couch to cuddle your man and make sure his ice is working.

[seiin-translations]

2.43 S1 Chapter 4.3 - Drifting Yunichika

3. IN-AND-OUTER

Just continuing to wing all the volleyball jargon here cuz i have no idea what’s going on

Translation Notes

1. Don’t know if there are English equivalents for these terms, but the Japanese uses  terms like 表レフト (omote-left) and  裏レフト (ura-left), where omote refers to the aces of the team, who are put in the front row for as long as possible, and the ura refers to the players diagonal to them

2. A broad attack is basically where the spiker approaches and jumps towards the net when they hit

3. Pipe in volleyball refers to a back row set aimed at the middle of the court

Previous || Index || Next

He had lied to Haijima about one thing.

Just before he entered the training camp, he received an email from Yorimichi for the first time in a long while. I’ll be back home in August, so let’s have some fun. Then call me when I don’t have practice. That was about all they exchanged back and forth, but he somehow failed to bring that up. Kuroba didn’t think that hanging out with Yorimichi was in itself a bad thing. He wasn’t going to go along with his smoking and drinking and riding double on a bike with no helmet like he used to. Even he had already learned to be sensible about that. He loved volleyball, his team was important to him, and he had self-awareness as a member of a sports team. …And yet, Haijima talked like he flat-out didn’t trust him.

Ah…geez, I’m feeling kinda gloomy.

“I’m getting a second helping of rice.”

When he stood with his empty bowl in one hand and a sullen look on his face, Uchimura, sitting across from him, looked disheartened.

“After eating so much meat yesterday, how can you eat again in the morning? I’m still not very hungry.”

“That stuff all got digested when I ran at night. Maybe you should have gone for a run too, Senpai?”

“I’ll have to decline, since I’m not so young anymore,” his senpai said like he was an old man, despite the fact he was only a year older than him.

The school cafeteria was usually open to students only at lunch time and only to faculty and staff in the morning, but during summer vacation, breakfast was prepared for club members using the boarding house. In addition, special meals were offered to members of the athletic clubs, which was much appreciated. The morning special for today was the combo of grilled fish and deep-fried chicken. The after-meal fruits were bananas and oranges. They were free to get second helpings of rice.

When he opened the lid of the six-litre gas rice cooker, the only remaining amount of rice was the rice grains sticking to the inside of the rice cooker.

“Ma’am, there’s no more rice!”

He hit the edge of the iron pot with the rice scoop and called out to the kitchen. “How much white rice can you all eat? There are students from other clubs coming for lunch, so please hold back a little.” A small old lady in an apron powerfully carried a stainless steel cauldron to replace the empty pot. White steam was rising from the pot where freshly cooked white rice was glittering.

When Kuroba left the rice cooker after piling a mountain of rice into his bowl, Okuma and Oda were lined up behind him looking like this was perfectly natural. Aren’t these two on their third bowls?

He returned to the table where Uchimura was, poured the natto over his rice and started eating his second bowl. Uchimura was also not lacking in appetite, and even though he was talking about something or other, he stored everything in his stomach without leaving a single grain of rice or a piece of vegetable on his plate, and he was about to peel an after-meal orange.

“I have no complaints about your stamina. But your mental strength though… Can’t you do something about it?”

“…I know that. You don’t have to tell me.”

“And? What happened to your partner with the mental strength of steel?”

“That’s how you’re comparing us…? Haijima’s still sleeping.”

Last night, he and Haijima were dragged out of the boarding house, and the two of them were made to do twenty dashes on the slope between the mountain and the school. In the darkness of night where there was only moonlight, they could only hear each other’s dying breaths as they dashed up the slope, pitching forward and almost falling, then staggering downhill, and repeat. Every drop of his urge to make merry with his school trip-like mood had been wrung out of him, and he fell asleep in an instant as soon as he collapsed onto his futon after he finally returned to the boarding house, where everyone was already completely asleep. As expected of Aoki-senpai, he had felt.

He woke up this morning feeling hungry as usual because he had recovered his strength after sleeping, but Haijima hadn’t recovered yet, and he was still lying flat on his futon as though he was dead. It’s not like one of our senpais came to keep an eye on us, and they wouldn’t have known if you had cut down on the number of dashes… He wasn’t that kind of flexible guy. When it came to volleyball, Haijima seemed to “not want to lose to anyone,” not just in practice, but also in preparation and cleaning, and he didn’t cut corners. Well, I think that part of him is pretty admirable, but he only has two hands, so there are times when you just gotta cut those corners.

“Haijima doesn’t have much stamina, right? I guess he’s not perfect.”

Uchimura tilted his head while tossing an orange into his mouth.

“That guy has plenty of flaws.”

When Kuroba answered sullenly, a plastic tray was placed on the table with a bang.

“O-Oh, Haijima. Good morning.”

Uchimura pulled himself away from the table, flinching slightly.

“…’Sup.”

With a sour expression like there was a sign reading “low blood pressure” pasted to it, Haijima pulled the chair next to Kuroba. His club activity switch still wasn’t flipped, so he was wearing his glasses, and his thin bangs were bouncing in a strange way due to his bed hair. When Kuroba somehow failed to speak up and kept silent, Haijima also kept silent towards him and began to bring his food to his mouth with his eyes mostly closed and a face that looked like he was about to throw up. He spiked with his left and right hands, but he basically used his left hand for holding pencils and chopsticks.

Kuroba, who had been wolfing down his second bowl of rice without a care in the world, slowed down his eating speed to match Haijima’s, thinking that it would look like he had an easier time even though they ran the same amount.

“You don’t look so good, you know? Don’t force yourself to eat if you can’t eat. Just eat a banana or something. I’ll eat one too.”

“I’m just sleepy from all the sleeping time I lost. I can eat.”

Haijima was strangely stubborn towards Uchimura’s concern for him, and he greedily shoveled down the rice that he had been slowly bringing to his mouth with so much vigor that he had to wash it down with miso soup. Is he doing this out of spite…? No wait, I have stuff I’m annoyed with him about too. Kuroba wasn’t happy with him. But Haijima didn’t even notice his dissatisfaction anyways.

He felt like an idiot and began energetically moving his chopsticks again. The fatigue in his body was reset after he woke up from sleep, and he planned to show his best performance today, but the gloomy feelings in his heart still haven’t cleared up.

Uchimura shrugged his shoulders at the two who were tilting their bowls and turning their chopsticks like they were competing against each other, then said, “I’ll be leaving, then,” before taking his tray and quickly leaving the table.

*** Kuroba’s position was the so-called “front-left” among left-side players, and it was considered the ace position in high school volleyball. Oda was the back-left, diagonal from him. (1) The left-side players, who took on a large percentage of the team’s total attacks and hit from both the front row and back, generally had the most number of hits. Aoki was the front center, and the back center who was diagonal to him was Okuma, who they were trying to polish at a quick pace. The right-side position that was diagonal to the setter Haijima was filled by Kanno. The left and right-side attackers, as well as the centers, were the so-called “attacker” positions. 

The basic six-person team composition was two left-side players, two centers, and two right-side players. Due to the rotation, front row and back row players often changed places, attackers in the same positions were placed diagonally from each other so that the front row’s height and offensive power were maintained. The ability to receive in the back row was also necessary for the left and right positions. Receiving formations were the key to using more difficult combination attacks. 

There was also a player in a special position called a libero. He mainly replaced a center player, who retreats to the back row, and played a central role in receptions (serve receive) and digs (spike receive). It was this position that did the miraculous dive in the middle of a rally. Hokao was this libero. And Uchimura was like a jack-of-all-trades who could step in if there was a shortage of people. There was no way Seiin could afford to have a reserve for each position.

They spent the afternoon of their second day of training camp practicing combo attacks. Two to four attackers went onto the court and coordinated a team play together with the setter Haijima. Although he had many thoughts about Haijima, Kuroba called out to him for a set. “Alright, over here!” Haijima glanced at him. He felt like he had an annoyed look on his face.

Haijima ignored Kuroba, and—also skipped Aoki, who also jumped for a C quick, before jump back setting the ball to Kanno, who ran right up to the antenna on the right side. The precision of Haijima’s back set was so unchanged from when he set from the front that it made one wonder if he had eyes on the back of his head. Quick attacks ranged from A quicks to D quicks, with A being the closest to the left side from the setter’s set position. B was a little farther. C was the closest to the right side with a back set, and D was a little farther. A combination attack was when another attacker got involved with the decoy quicker and disrupted the opponen’s blocking. Of course, there were times when a set went to the quicker. It was the setter’s chance to show what they could do by putting together a tactic that made full use of all the attackers on the court and make the most optimal set at each moment.

That’s what Haijima talked about yesterday. A combo with a center’s C quick and a right side’s broad jump—.

A sharp spike was driven in with a slap from the right side.

Kanno-senpai is so good…he marveled inwardly. He was an attacker whose special qualities were his fast swings and good control, and he was also good at getting around blockers (there was a suspicion that the blockers momentarily forgot his existence because he had such a weak presence). The right side also jumped to a double quick along with the center. A wide-ranged broad attack (2) was also required. Many times, a player who is a consistent receiver would be put in the position. It was a position that required the ability to be an all-rounder. Kanno wasn’t assertive, but he reliably executed the role that was given to him without hesitation. It seemed that Haijima also had a high opinion of Kanno. A guy who fundamentally didn’t communicate with other people always said a few words to him and made minor corrections after each set.

He called the set with all his might and when he was ignored, he felt that he was being lame, so he was determined to make up for it by hitting a big one as soon as possible.

But that didn’t go according to plan. After that, Haijima didn’t set to Kuroba at all. Not even a single one after several hours of play. It seemed that today, Haijima’s interest was in creating a combo between the centers and the right-side players.

Halfway through practice, he stopped calling for the sets and his jumping became half-hearted, which made Oda angry with him several times. “Kuroba—. Concentrate more. Even if a set doesn’t go to you, look around and think about your next move.”

“…I know that.”

When he answered with a rebellious attitude, Oda shrugged his shoulders like he had no idea what to do and made a proposition to Haijima. “Haijima, why don’t you try another combo after you finish this one? The pipe (3) might be faster if you do it with Kuroba.” He didn’t like the way he talked like he was obviously fussing over him. Even though we’re both first-years, it’s like only Haijima is special…I don’t disagree that he is special, but he doesn’t even seem to notice how much he’s valued by the captain, much less be thankful. The things that he was happy to be told about yesterday strangely got on his nerves today.

Though Haijima looked extremely annoyed at having cold water thrown on the practice he was taking part in, this was the first time in a long while he looked over at him.

“Kuroba.”

His body reflexively stiffened at being called. Haijima put his hands on his hips, kicked the floor with his heel once, sighed, and then spoke.

“There’s no point in you being here, so just get out of here.”

“Hah…!?”

His voice cracked at the sudden discharge notice.

“Wha, you…Don’t get too full of yourself, is a setter really dropping an attacker because of a personal grudge?”

“Grudge?” This guy looks like he has no idea what that means.

“You’re still mad that you had to run because of me.”

“I’m not gonna be picky for a stupid reason like that. Are you an idiot?”

This guy really put an emphasis on the first syllable of “idiot”. Don’t play blind to your stupidity! He really is such an unpleasant guy.

“So why…”

He grabbed Haijima’s arm and pressed him for an answer. Haijima’s face twisted slightly as he glared back at him aloofly. He looked and saw that he had put too much strength into his fingers and they were digging into Haijima’s arm, turning the skin there white.

He clicked his tongue and dropped Haijima’s arm as though it was on fire.

“Uchimura-senpai, could you please do receiving practice with me?”

He turned on his heel and left the court with long strides. “Huh? Alright,” Uchimura answered in puzzlement and followed him. “That moodiness of his…” The mutters of his senpais, who seemed to have given up on him, hurt his back, so he couldn’t turn back to the court anymore. I’m not the bad guy here…While frustration welled up within him, he pushed the ball cage to a corner of the gym. If he were to roll this thing with all his strength and smash it against the wall, it would dissipate a little, but that wasn’t going to happen, so he had no choice but to use all his self-control and push it with normal force.

The training camp that had been fun until the first night had suddenly become boring. Was this payback for getting carried away by feeling like he was on a school trip, just as Haijima said? He wasn’t really getting carried away. He had been plenty fired up for working hard at practice. That was all gone now with Haijima’s attitude.

He was the one who joined the team in April, but Haijima, who joined later, became an indispensable member of the team from that point on, and their senpais yielded to him. More than anything, Oda was captivated by Haijima. When it became like that, now that Nagato was gone, he was the only one treated like a halfway middle schooler, and not acknowledged as a necessary part of the team.

Previous || Index || Next

[spencerspecifics]

Okay i got this idea while talking to @criminalmindsvibez earlier and I just h a d to write it out

Imagine: the team taking one of those “teamwork building” days during the fall and Hotch has no clue what the team could do together to build their teamwork morale because they’ve literally had to save each other from murderers in a time sensitive manner so like??? Wtf are they supposed to do? Solve a jigsaw puzzle? So Garcia gets the task of figuring out what to do and she decides pumpkin patch/corn maze because fuck it. It’s fall.

-they get to the pumpkin patch, immediately Rossi is like “I don’t need to buy a pumpkin. It’ll end up rotting on my doorstep”

- Garcia points out that doesn’t help the team morale so he better quiet down

-he shuts up, they get inside the farm area and the entire team is just sorta standing around cuz when is the last time any of them went to a patch??? They aren’t sure of where to start. There’s stands that sell apple cider and hot coco and kettle corn and there’s some hinky dinky country music playing in the background. It’s nice but they have no clue where to start

-Garcia decides to take over, because fuck it, she got put in charge of this, and Hotchner looks like a fish out of water. Put him in a beauracratic setting and the man knows how to operate, but this? He looks so lost, it’s almost funny. Garcia’ll command this group of idiot life savers.

- she decides the team should start in the corn maze, that sorta helps the team morale. They gotta find a way to get out, after all. Spencer doesn’t want to go in until he sees a map of it, though, so he can check where they are. So they have to awkwardly go to an employee and ask where the map of the corn maze is located

-Derek finds it in a pamphlet that the employee handed to him, he gave it over to Spencer, who gladly accepts it and stares at it for what feels like two seconds before being like “ok let’s go”

-even though finding that damn map took like ten minutes because the pumpkin patch has so many customers so employees are all over the place. So everyone is like “goddamnit dude” at spencer before moving ahead into the maze

- Derek and Garcia take the lead, Spencer in the middle, then J.J. and Emily towards the back, with Hotch and Rossi in the very back.

-Hotch doesn’t wanna have to take charge of how to get through the maze unless absolutely necessary

-J.J. and Emily just end up having some very much needed girl talk while Garcia and Derek bicker about which way to go

- “Get a babysitter so we can have a girls night” “I’ll do that when you call that hot british dude that you met at the bar last week back” “I don’t need him. I have Sergio.” “Cats don’t replace real relationships with people, emily.”

-meanwhile Derek and Garcia aren’t sure which way to go. “Let’s take a left.” “No, we just went that way. We should take a right.” “That just keeps us in the middle, doll ” “isn’t that what we want?!”

-Meanwhile, the entire time, Spencer has been thinking of the turns and loops and steps they’ve taken and calculated exactly where within the maze they are based on the map

-Eventually Spencer takes charge, after Derek made them take two dead end turns, “Guys- no, we’re towards the edge of the maze. The quickest way to the end is through the center, so we need to go back and take two rights, then a left.”

-Hotch and Rossi are just walking through in silence for the most part, taking in the scenery around them. The crisp autumn air, it’s nice. They do break their silence for conversations. They speak about Jack’s upcoming soccer game, and how tiring it can be to work with children.

- “I’ve never been more grateful that my three ex wives and I never ended up with kids- god, it’s enough going to see Jack’s stuff and help coach the team.” “You have no obligation to show up if you don’t want to, Dave. If it’s too much I understand.” “Aaron, I would rather get arrested for a murder I didn’t commit and convicted before leaving Jack’s games.”

-Garcia ends up falling back with the girls, where the conversation shifts to Prentiss talking about how much the corn maze reminds her of the children of the corn movie

-“ew! Why did you have to say that! All their parents end up dead! That’s so sad!” “Garcia, it’s the corn that reminds me of the movie” “Well duh- we’re in a cornfield! But don’t think about that movie. Think about something nicer.”

-Prentiss is drawing a blank on nice fall themed things, so J.J. pipes up with “what about that Charlie Brown movie?” Garcia points out that doesn’t take place in a corn field

-“well. Only corn field movie that’s coming to mind is children of the corn.” So emily continues to talk a bit about it to J.J., all while making Garcia want to run away because “Ew no it’s such a sad movie! Let’s talk about something nicer!”

-Meanwhile Derek and Spencer are solely up front, Spencer is using that big dumptruck of a brain of his to know exactly which turns to take. Derek’s just walking alongside him, trying to weasel from flirting into conversation casually

-“how about after this I get you some cider, pretty boy?” “Do you know cider on average has to ferment for fifteen days?” Spencer isn’t really listening, if that isn’t already obvious. He heard what Derek said, but he’s just thinking of every next twist and turn they have to take to get out. So he isn’t very conversative

-meanwhile the girls have changed conversation topics to what kind of pumpkins J.J. should get Henry (this conversation change was obviously brought on by Garcia) “you should get him a cute tiny one! That would be so adorable” emily on the other hand is saying to get one bigger than him “wouldn’t it be funny to have a pumpkin taller than henry?”

-J.J. doesn’t know which size pumpkin she’ll get for Henry. But she lets emily and Garcia sway her opinion in both directions, because a comically large pumpkin would be funny. But one as small as Henry would be adorable

-meanwhile the old men duo in the back are still just enjoying their walk. Hotch had mentioned how Jack would’ve loved to come to the patch, before silence fell over them again. Rossi asked a few moments later if Hotch knows if jack’s school would be taking a field trip to the patch, “I’m not sure. I’m assuming they will.” Rossi doesn’t say anything more, but he secretly plans on double checking that, emailing the school, and explaining that he and Hotch would like to be volunteers on the trip. He’d like to see that happen.

-Derek hasn’t fully given up on his flirting game with Spencer. But he’s holding off for now, as Spencer is way too focused on the maze layout. So much so that he started mapping out in his mind where the best spot to place a body would be as an unsub. “If someone was to drop a body in here- the ideal location would be the upper left sides second dead end. Geographically, it’s the farthest point from landmarks and least traveled area within the maze.”

-Garcia hears that and butts in, “No murder talk! No dead body talk- there is no dead body! Today is supposed to be a good day! Shut off your brain for one day, Spencer”

-Spencer doesn’t say anything more about the best spot within the maze to dump a body, though Derek is sure Spencer is bored and thinking out a billion separate scenarios within the maze. Mazes were good for hiding and concealing things, after all

-Garcia accidentally mishears Spencer’s directions of “turn left” and she walks directly into the wall of corn that the maze is made out of

-the team all stops for a second to help her untangle herself out of that before promptly laughing at her

-ok Derek and emily laugh the most, emily tells her to steal an ear of corn “It’s not like they’d miss it. It could be compensation for running into it”. J.J. and Spencer sorta stand there chuckling a lil bit, Hotch and Rossi are more like “as long as you’re all good we should continue on” but they had little smiles on their faces too

-They finally get out! The employees at the exit are like “good job, that was very fast!” And everyone on the team is like “thanks we tried” meanwhile Spencer is standing there thinking “no y’all didn’t I did it cuz I memorized the maze smh”

-the team stays as a unit after that. It wasn’t on purpose, but they all had the same thing in mind, the pumpkin patch

-they walk over there, it’s not too far, immediately Spencer makes his way over to the large containers of pre-picked pumpkins, gourds, thise tiny as hell pumpkins, those white pumpkins, and those red pumpkins. He’s one second away from grabbing a pumpkin at random from the container so he can grab a pumpkin and go, when Derek is like “Hey man what are you doing? You’re not picking from the patch”

-Spencer then has to awkwardly explain how the only times he ever went to the pumpkin patch was in elementary school before he skipped ahead grade wise and the kids in his class made fun of him that day really bad. Like they called him names and left him “trapped” in the corn field (tho he had seen a map and was able to figure his way out easily that time.) and so whenever he has to buy a pumpkin he just gets them from the grocery store because he gets anxious at the thought of coming to a pumpkin patch

-immediately the entire team is like “wtf man you should’ve told us!!! Do you want to leave??? We should leave” and Garcia is immediately like “Spencer I am so sorry oh my god I didn’t know” and he has to sorta awkwardly be like “No it’s ok. I wanted to come. I want to try and get a better memory than last time.”

-Derek pats him on the back for that, “You’ll get much better memories this time, I promise. But let’s get a pumpkin from the actual patch instead of from these containers”

- Derek makes it his soul mission to make sure spencer now has an amazing time in the pumpkin patch. So he stays with him the entire time as they walk around, inspecting pumpkins for just the right one

-meanwhile the girls are looking at the biggest pumpkins possible. Namely Prentiss, she wants to get a big one. “Can you even out that out front of your apartment door?” “I don’t know but I’ll make sure it stays until it rots”

-Hotchner is busy looking for a pumpkin he could bring home for jack to carve, though he does guess that jack would be making his way to the pumpkin patch with his class too. It couldn’t hurt to have a third pumpkin to carve.

-Rossi doesn’t want a pumpkin, he’s already decided that they’re messy and smelly and he doesn’t even like pumpkin seeds or pumpkin pie enough to warrant the mess of cutting and getting the pumpkin guts out. So he just stands and watches

-Garcia notices that immediately and is so not happy with that “you’re serious about not getting a pumpkin?” “I told ya” “ughhh Rossi- you could get a tiny one!” “I don’t wanna carve and deal with a mess” “you don’t have to carve a tiny one!”

-“what’re you thinking pretty boy?” Derek asked Spencer, who had been staring down the same pumpkin for like two minutes, which was definitely unusual. Spencer doesn’t answer, leaning down and picking the pumpkin up instead. “Does it have any abrasions on it?” He asked Derek, as he turns it over in his hands to inspect it. “Not that I can see, no”

-Spencer decides on this pumpkin, and they find some wheelbarrows provided by the farm to put his pumpkin in, they give Hotch the duty of rolling the wheelbarrow around as they meander away from the rest of the group

-Spencer then is like “oh shit. Wait Derek. Your pumpkin. We need to find you one.” Derek just laughs a little bit and is like “I’ll find one lol but you gotta come with me” so Spencer agrees as they go to find one for Derek

-Garcia ends up nearby the tiny pumpkins, deciding to buy at least three to litter her front doorstep with

-she is so distracted she doesn’t even realize rossi making his way over. “You’re right. Those ones are way too small to carve.” He says, she just agrees, “Yes, so you should get some!! C’mon. Get that festive spirit.”

-Hotch shows up pushing the wheelbarrow from behind, listening to the tail end of rossi and Garcia’s bickering match. “You should get some, Dave. It would look nice.”

-That makes rossi cave. He mumbles out a “fine. The things I do for you all, I swear” before picking two up and putting them in the wheelbarrow, next to Spencer’s pumpkin.

-Garcia is b e a m I n g she is very happy with the fact she got this fall grinch into getting a pumpkin. So much so that she ends up getting a fourth tiny one, because damnit they’re too adorable.

-Hotchner still hasn’t found a pumpkin for him and for jack so he’s standing in the patch, still surveying like a lost old man. Garcia and Rossi end up helping him.

-Meanwhile J.J. and emily are looking through the medium sized pumpkins to find something for will and Henry. “I’m thinking a medium sized one, because then it’s sort of a mix of what you and Garcia said.” J.J. explained to Prentiss, who nodded along in agreement.

-the team is all pretty quiet at this point as they try to find their own pumpkins. Derek finds his, a large one that’s very vertically elongated. He takes it back to the wheelbarrow, with Spencer trailing along behind him.

-Hotch finds two round, smaller sized pumpkins. And he decides that those are his, they look great and would be easy enough to carve, so he grabs them up, getting them back into the wheelbarrow

-J.J. finds a medium sized pumpkin for Henry, and two smaller ones for her and will. Meanwhile Prentiss is like “Hey Jayge that Charlie Brown movie is applicable now since we’re in a pumpkin patch” Garcia hears that and is like “y e s good fall vibes yes”

-they finish up in the patch, everyone putting their pumpkins into the wheelbarrow as they head towards the checkout

-Derek pays for Spencer’s pumpkin, saying it’s not a problem

-Spencer literally can’t stop blushing at that even tho it’s the most mundane thing e v e r and it’s adorable

-the team gets their pumpkins sorted and paid, before taking the wheelbarrow back towards the stands that sell cider and hot coco and kettle corn.

-the girls go off to get hot chocolate, Dave and Rossi go to get some bags of kettle corn, and Derek and Spencer go get cider

-“If you make hot coco with anything but milk, it’s evil” “emily what about lactose intolerant people who use water?” “They’re on thin ice.”

-Spencer thanks Derek like five times in a row for helping him get a pumpkin and buying it “you didn’t have to-“ “you better stop talking before I buy you a cider too, pretty boy”

-Derek does buy him a cider in the end, which isn’t any surprise

-Dave and Hotch argue over which type of kettle corn is the best. “It’s caramel, Aaron. Why on earth would cheddar kettle corn be good?” “It’s savory as opposed to sweet, it’s better” “That doesn’t matter if it tastes bad!”

-Garcia ends up coaxing the hot coco barista lady into adding a shit ton of extra chocolate sauce and stuff to her drink

-so much so that it’s literally too sweet for her but she dug her grave she will fuckin lie in it like a winner

-J.J. and emily immediately make fun of her, “I can see the regret in your eyes!”

-the team finishes up buying their drinks, pushing the wheelbarrow out to the parking lot.

-“See, not so bad for a team morale building day after all!” Garcia says happily, she’s glad her idea was a success

-it was. The team is happy, they got hot sweet drinks and bags of delicious food, not to mention a shit ton of pumpkins they shove into the trunk of the SUV

-Spencer’s happy he made new memories at the pumpkin patch, Derek was just happy to help build those for him.

-Garcia’s happy her day went so well, emily is glad she got a pumpkin to carve, J.J.’s happy she got good pumpkins for will and Henry, Hotch is happy that he’s not stuck in a stuffy office building in an uncomfortable suit talking about another murder investigation, and Rossi is happy to be with his found family on a day out

-it was a good day at the pumpkin patch :)

[jtrbluv]

“F 2020!” - TXT

it’s 3:30am and i’m 2 lazy to make a header so here’s yoongi, i promise i have nicer handwriting

wow, i literally have no idea where to start. it’s almost my three year anniversary of being on this hellsite, but i think i can definitely say that 2020 has probably been one of my favorite years by far, and i am really grateful for it. i think 2020 was a year i was able to improve a lot in my writing despite not producing and releasing a lot of content. quarantine finally allowed me to actually sit down and focus on writing more than i ever have before, and shit, it felt good! it finally felt like i was able to write for myself and not just to please others, and it felt so rewarding rawr (•̀ᴗ•́)و

to all my followers, thank you all so so much. each and every single one of you are a huge reason as to why i’m still here and continue to write. all the likes, reblogs, comments, asks, and more mean the absolute world to me and other writers as well. i think as content creators we can all say that we all go back and scroll through all your messages. thank you for continuing to support me and hopefully i can manage to gift more fics to you this year! luv u all so much <33

to all my mutuals, whether we’ve talked once, twice, never, or a lot, thank you so much for letting me into your world! i really appreciate and luv each and every one of you and always enjoy seeing you all around my dash, we love 2 see it!! i wish you all the best and pls never hesitate to talk to me, i’ll always be here through but especially to support you and hype you all up!! >:) <33

i was going to tag people, but i don’t wanna risk missing anyone T-T. hopefully, you all know who you are :)) just know i luv u fr

lastly, here are some sappy ass luv letters to some of you in particular, sry in advance 🥶🥶

@koushiningg - yeah, of course your ass is going first. hey jae bae, bestie 4L, partner-in-crime, the one person who’s read every, and i mean EVERY single one of my fics. it irks me how much you’re always able to write out your feelings towards the people you care about, bc i SUCK at it! so yes, thank you so much for just being you, i’ll write u a sappy long letter for ur grad email but for now, thank u so much for putting up with my dumbass, listening to me ramble abt the ideas i get at the asscrack of dawn, reading my fics, supporting me in everything that i do. i love u sm fr. here is to the year that we’ve been waiting for, 2021. let’s make it our year.

@taehyungieskith - mika bae........ to think that you were still a local this year is so silly to think abt, i still remember us in the 400s and me giving u song recs in the band room GAHAHDHAJ. i love the little book club type shit we be doing, i always love ur recs duh wtf. thank u twin for always hyping up my stuff and thank god u arent on wattpad anymore mhm love u twin jumi #2 fr

@viopera - VIO!!! we’ve met recently but it feels like i’ve known u for awhile now. literally i’m so happy cuz i remember telling u to write fics and u were straight up like “no.” and now here we are RAWR! u should know this by now and u probably do but i will always be ur #1 supporter and eternal beta-reader. i hope you’re feeling better and ily my fav corpse stan and bad bitch!!!!

@bangtans-peaceful-piegon - AHH PIDGE!!! if i can remember correctly, you were one of the first people i actually talked to on the fic hub server and wow you are just the cutest and literal sweetest thing. we clicked so easily and the vibes u give off are just absolutely impeccable. i love u and i’m always here for u !!! <33

@sugacouture - AYO MEI!!! istg we literally just started talking frfr like a couple days ago but it’s like i’ve known u for years, like wtf. we literally have the same humor and vibes and it’s been rly swag talking to u. i am also more than happy to be ur eternal beta-reader and header helper if that wasn’t already clear duh <3 yeah you are so cute and you write so well that it’s unfair. mhm. unfair. *inserts that one taekook photo* love u, i’ll kidnap u and we’ll get boba and pho <3

@dreamystuffers - RACH!!!!!! rach you truly mesmerize me bc you are so freaking multi-talented, it leaves me in awe. i’m so happy you’ve continued to do what you do luv!! i will always be here and supporting u thru whatever u do!!! luv u sm!! <33

@tatastaetae - marria bby! hi!! ik we don’t talk that much but when we do you’re always such a joy to talk to! the range in ur fics is insane and i always love 2 see it! love u sm and i’m always here for u luv (i swear i’ll be more active on servers wjdjsjjds)

@pjmsdior - bella!!! we haven’t talked for that long either but i always love meeting fil moots!!! you are the sweetest thing and just know that i’ll always be here for u if u need anyone to talk to!!! if i was rich, i’d buy us both new phones in a heartbeat bc our phone literally hate us and for WHAT. kk luv u bella mwah <3

@suhdays - MO! oh my i rly do mean it when i say that u have got to be one of the sweetest and most genuine ppl i’ve met so far this year on this hellsite. ty for making me feel so welcome on the discord servers and networks despite me not being super active on there. when i do get money, i do wish to buy from your etsy shop T-T ,, you are literally the best and deserve the world mo, love u !

@jinpanman - mai! hiii!!! i know we don’t talk much but i’d just like to thank u for the sheer kindness and sweetness you’ve always treated me with! on the occasions that we do talk, you are such a sweetheart omg. ur fics are absolutely to die for and ilysm bby <3

@softguks - AHHDHJE LAUR! when i save u best 4 last <3. we’ve honestly barely interacted at all but you are the most sweetest thing ever, you make my heart full!!! i hope we’re able to interact more in the future and that u come back soon!

- ur local laur luvbot

my secret admirer, hi! i’m not sure if you’ll see this or not since i obviously can’t tag u, but i rly do appreciate u and all the messages u send 🥺🥺 sometimes i go back to them and read them over bc they’re actually so sweet and this is my first actual anon interaction rawr ;w; like always, i wish u nothing but the best and pls take care ☀️ anon!!! <3

sending luv and good vibes to all of u for the new year, always <3

— love, jumi (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #400

“it’s an age-old story: the first will be last, and the last will be kings  /  the small will be great, and the great will be weak”

Who was the last person you sincerely thanked? My mom; I thank her every time she cooks for me/us, and I really do mean it. What’s the longest you’ve ever stayed as a guest at someone’s house? Somewhere around a month. What was the last thing to really surprise you? My brother has a fiancee and is having another son! :') Have you ever found out that you have been sleep walking? No. Have you ever tried making something from one of those short cooking videos? How did it turn out? No. Have you ever written a review for a product you bought online? No. What was the last thing you had the urge to do? Idk about anything notable. Is there anyone you feel that takes you for granted? No. What is the last thing you had a craving for? A donut. Do you ever read the comments on social media posts? Sometimes. What was the last thing you felt like you wasted money on? It's so rare that I buy things with my own cash that I really don't know. What was the last thing you wanted to buy, but couldn’t afford? Venus' terrarium on my own. Mom has to help me with buying it. What is a recipe you’d like to try to make for yourself? I don’t cook, so. What goes through your mind when you look back at old photographs of yourself? More than anything, I get sad over how much weight I've gained. I was so healthy once upon a time. It also just makes me miss my childhood. What was the subject matter of the last email you sent? I believe it was about setting up an appointment with my therapist. How do you get your news? Facebook articles, really. What do you think about lizards? I love them! I was that kid that always tried to catch them when I saw 'em. Now I just observe because I don't want to terrify them by trying to pick them up. Have you ever done consumer testing (testing products before they come out on the market)? If not, would you ever want to? No, but sure, I'd do it. Have you ever received anesthesia or morphine? Both. The time I received morphine, it did jack-all for me. If you had to choose which video game to be in, which would it be? Hmmm... I would say Azeroth from World of Warcraft, but too much shit goes down, ha ha. Perhaps the top of the temple in Shadow of the Colossus? So long as I could have someone I love with me, I'd be in Heaven. Although... I doubt there's WiFi there, so I might drop that answer, lmfao. I really don't know. Between the two, would you rather live in a place where it’s only night or where it’s only day? Day. I need the natural light of day sometimes, and if I wanted to sleep, I could just find shade. If you had to be an actor/actress in a movie, what genre of the movie would you be best at? Fantasy. Out of fire, earth, water, wind, light, and dark, which element appeals the most to you? Dark. What’s one thing that you wish was real? Friendly dragons, haha. Is there anything (show, comedian, etc.) that you constantly quote or make references to? No. What’s your favorite Disney Channel movie? I have absolutely no idea. I don't even remember almost any of them. What’s your favorite holiday? Christmas. Do you ever have to do yard work? No. Do you have any live versions of songs in your music software? Yes. Did/do you listen to Britney Spears songs? Yeah, sometimes. I genuinely don't mind her. Do you still make Christmas lists? Yeah, because I'm asked to. Do you watch the show Dexter? Never seen it. Which musical instrument do you think sounds the prettiest? I'm torn between the violin, harp, and piano. Is your mom or dad the older parent? Mom, by a year. Do you and your parents like any of the same bands/singers? A lot, actually. Is there any food in your bedroom? What? I have these tictacs I keep in my purse in case of a dry mouth. Medication makes me have that severely, and my psychiatrist recommended me to always have a hard candy available to suck on since it forces salivation. Do you know anyone who has road rage? Who? My younger sister, badly. How far away do your grandparents live from you? They're all dead, but they lived in far away states. Do you know anyone who wants to be the president one day? No. What kinds of chips are in the cupboards? None. It's a bad idea to keep chips in this house, haha. Do you have your mom's or dad's hair? Well, I was born with dirty blonde hair like my dad, but my hair is thick and more similar in color now to my mom's before the cancer completely drained the color. If you were going out with your celebrity crush, what would you wear? OH MY GOD LA;KSDJFAKLWJE I DON'T KNOW I LOOK AWFUL IN EVERYTHING. Have you ever cried when a teacher retired? Teared up, yes, multiple times. Do you swear and yell while playing video games? I might swear under my breath, but that's the extent of it. If you were adopted, would you want to know? At this point in my life, I don't really know. I kinda find myself leaning towards no. Has a best friend ever ditched you for a girlfriend/boyfriend? Pretty much. Do your pets chase after bugs? Roman sure does. When’s the last time you were so excited you couldn’t sleep? Why? I want to say that was the night before I was getting my tattoo redone. Do you own any flip-flops? Yeah, considering they're like... all I wear, ever. Did you ever really believe that the stork brought babies? I don't believe so, no. Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) It was the only lucid dream I've ever had and I'm not complaining about it lmao. Have you ever had a dream that upset you or made you cry? Oh I'm sure. Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? Not to my recollection, no, and I don't believe you should ever adopt that mentality and say that to someone. Do you own a laser? No. Is there anything you like to put on a sandwich, that some might find odd? Nah. I do enjoy a layer of potato chips on some sandwiches, like ham and cheese, but I know that's like an actual thing some people just like. What colour are the shoes you wear most often? They're black flip-flops. When was the last time you were required to put on a mask? In the morning when I go to the TMS office. And what colour was the last mask you wore? It's one of those normal blue and white medical ones. The last time you were in a queue, what were you waiting for? To see the woman who would give me my APAP mask. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes, Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? None for the first shot, but my second shot bruised badly and I felt seriously shitty the following day. I was perfectly fine afterwards, though. Can any of your friends sing well? Which one has the nicest singing voice? Sara has an AMAAAAAAAAAAAZING voice. When was the last time you wore make-up, if ever? What shades/colours? I don't even remember, but I'm sure it would've been black. What is something that seems popular, but doesn't interest you personally? Fashion, various TV shows, etc... Are you clumsy or graceful? I am STUPID clumsy. Like it's just ridiculous. Do you like gloves? I like fingerless gloves. Does your sibling(s) have braces? My older sister did as a kid. Do you ever say "OMG" in person? No; it's a random pet peeve of mine, "Internet talk" irl. What was the last thing your parents got mad at you for? Dad, no idea. Mom, uhhhh. Not "mad," but "annoyed" probably better fits how she felt about me leaving the heating pad I use for my cramps on the floor. Do your pets have favorites? I'm definitely Roman's favorite seeing as he is my literal shadow, and I'd assume Venus trusts me more than anyone else, but realistically, she's in contact with almost no one else, so. Who was your first boyfriend/girlfriend? Why did you break up? The first guy to have the title of "boyfriend" was Aaron, and I broke up with him 'cuz I just wasn't as romantically into him as I thought I might be. It was puppy-dog love, and I feel I knew that. My first *real* boyfriend was Jason, who broke up with me because my mental illnesses began to affect his wellbeing. Which I now accept is fine, but he seriously coulda gone about things differently... When was the last time you got a new bed? Is your bed comfy? Late into my teenage years; idk the exact age and don't feel like doing the math. Teddy kept peeing on the bed to where it was just unrecoverable and needed to be thrown away. My current bed is comfy enough. What kind of games did you play on the playground when you were younger? My absolute favorite was digging tunnels in the sandbox, pretending to be a meerkat. The only trend I ever created, haha, seeing as my classmates got into it with me, allowing us to make huge tunnel systems. It was really cool. I also liked playing 4 Square (which I now don't even remember the details of) on the basketball court. Do you remember the first time you ever drove a car? Who were you with? Yeah, my driver's ed instructor and the guy who was on the same route as me. What’s your favorite thing to do when drunk? Would you do this sober? N/A Are you a fan of dogs? Do you have any as pets? I'm picky with dogs. I like interacting with any dog, but I don't plan on ever owning another. I don't like how hyper they can be, and I prefer more independent pets, like cats. Basically, I'll be hyped to meet a random dog on the street and give it some loving, but I don't want to take it home to be my own. Are you an elitist (even a little bit) when it comes to anything? What? No. I cannot stand elitists. Is just being fond of something enough, or does it take more than that to be a ‘real fan’? And I hate gatekeeping in fandoms even more. There are varying intensities of "being a fan," but regardless, if you like something, congratulations, you're a valid, "real" fan. What type of fabric is most comfortable for clothing? I don't pay attention to this, honestly. If you wear one – bras with or without a wire? I'll wear either, but without is way more comfortable. If you wear one – are you able to find cute bras in your size? God no. What length do you like your shorts to be? I don’t wear shorts. What was the last disappointing movie you saw? Warcraft, but not because it was bad. I've talked before how in the theater, the orcs' voices were just so fucking baritone that I couldn't understand almost ANYTHING they said. Kinda ruined the experience for me. What was the last disappointing book you read? Don't recall. Do you ever watch compilation videos? Of what? Very rarely. If I do, they're mostly of animals being silly. Favorite Disney character who isn’t royalty? Probably Dory, but idk. There's WAY too many options to fish through.

[bloopbyoop]

weep woop

ayo. ive read my scheduled email and its time for freewriting shit again. lmao. I want this post to be like a small light from a lit match stick inside a very hollow, icy, and numbing cave. (sounds cartoonish right? I know. Im obsessed with Adventure Time.) I want all people to be genuinely happy.  Spiritually, emotionally, and physically. Upon reaching my 24th anniversary in this world, I finally learned how to truly embrace all my emotions. Some are more overwhelming than the other, but we have to heed in our treacherous yet perplexing minds that everything is fleeting and we are in control. The feeling of extreme sadness fades, but so does joyful states. Everything can change in a matter of minutes or years. You are in control of all your emotions. You are in control of all your life choices. Your actions. Your words. Your perspective. It feels weird to actually write about it. I've wanted to talk about it. I never wanted help from anyone as I firmly believed that I was alone. Sure, I have a family and friends, but it is hard to see that when your head is clouded with negativity. I've even come to the point where I was too overwhelmed, I found being physically hurt less painful. The pain I felt distracted me from what I was thinking. My mind tended to go bonkers. lmao. But bro, I was so good at concealing my bonkers mind. It's easy to fake any emotion that you have. Slap anything sunshine-y or happy to anything and people would believe you. It went on for years. Long story short, thousands of bracelets collected, it became worse. The physical pain could no longer withhold the emotional pain. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't stop thinking. And voila! I found a good amount of self help books (from tumblr) and novels. Novels that brought me to different places. Self-help books that made me understand what I feel and what to do. I've read that taking the easy way out will leave everyone sad. AND IN THE FIRST PLACEEEEEE, I NEVER WANT THATTTTTTT. I want everyone to be happy. I would act foolish and do dumb shit to make everyone happy in a heartbeat. So, that idea made me push a few more years. Later on, the crippling shit came crawling back again to my head, sooooooo I needed new shit to keep me distracted again. Films, series, music, and short clips from YouTube helped me out a lot. Every single time that my mind is going to think like anything that can think of, even to the point that I was just going to think that I might be hungry, I'd watch something. There's just something about silence for me. Because of this new habit of mine, I've learned more about myself. I love different types of things. I like horror. I like thriller. I like comedy. I like romance. I love all types of films, but there is something about the horror genre that interests me. I still can't point out what, but I love watching horror films. With regards to music, I've learned that I love Indie, Punk Rock, Rap, and Pop. We all can't like a specific genre. It's stupid to ask "what genre of music do you like?". It's not actually stupid-stupid, it's just stupid. Ya know? Anyway, passing this phase, I needed to find something again because it's not doing the shit that it was supposed to, I tried investing more time on video games. By investing more, I mean a whole shit lot. I love video games since I was young cuz.... u know.... they keep u... try to guess it! oh yeah. you got that right! distracted! I love the aggressive plays and trashtalks that my friends and I make. The short stories we tell one another. The rants. The lame jokes. The late night we sound drunk but we are not drunk jokes. The roleplays. The lame jokes. The memes. And once again, The lame jokes. Something about lame jokes and the laughs and curses after that always gets me every single time. Oh shoot. Yup Yup. Few years later, I finally noticed the pattern that my sadness is temporary. I got over it one way or the other (or another. depends on how you wanna read it. i dont wanna say another cause i might write about one direction like what im doing now so-). Happiness is temporary as well. But, we are the ones who are actually in control of our emotions. If you wanna feel sad, be sad for a while. You're getting too sad? Try hanging out with your funny friends. Can't do that? Find an alternative. Watch a movie, knit a sweater. Anything your mind could think of as long as it will keep you mentally distracted from being physically and mentally hurt. I do have a few notes though. We cannot and should never assume what people are going through. It may be petty for you, but it may be very crucial to them. So never everrrr say things like: -Some people have it worse than you -At least you have ..... These sheetsss are annoying as heckkk and could really down someone. I know it is not your intention to annoy but people react differently. alsooooooo, it is not okay or normal to hate on things for bandwagon. that is just plainly crazy and stupid. let people enjoy things. anddddddd never suppress your emotions. admit what you feel inside and try to think of a way to resolve ittttt. keeping it to yourself will just make it worseeeeee. find your own outlettttttttt. hihihi ️ alsooooo. being more spiritually full with God's words and ideas really help me to be spiritually happy. ps. im christian but i dont discredit other religion and even applaud other religion's ideas and beliefs. this is a really long, selfish post so i might as well recommend some things I like : Songs with their lyrics that made me go through life. “I’ve got soul but I’m not a soldier” -All These Things That I've Done, The Killers “It's not too late, I'm still right here” -Breaking Your Own Heart, Kelly Clarkson "And the salt in my wounds / Isn't burning any more than it used to / It's not that I don't feel the pain / It's just I'm not afraid of hurting anymore / And the blood in these veins / Isn't pumping any less than it ever has / And that's the hope I have / The only thing I know that's keeping me alive" -Last Hope, Paramore “There is not a single word in the whole world / That could describe the hurt / The dullest knife just sawing back and forth / And ripping through the softest skin there ever was / How were you to know?” -Hate to See Your Heartbreak, Paramore "It's holding on, though the road's long / And seeing light in the darkest things And when you stare at your reflection / Finally knowing who it is / I know that you'll thank God you did" -1800, Logic "Did some things you can't speak of / But at night you live it all again / You wouldn't be shattered on the floor now / If only you had seen what you know now then" -Innocent, Taylor Swift (My bb) "10 months sober, I must admit / Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it / 10 months older, I won't give in / Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it // Rain came pouring down when I was drowning / That's when I could finally breathe / And by morning gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean" -Clean, Taylor Swift “I guess I always knew / That I had all the strength to make it through.” -Believe in Me, Demi Lovato "I'm addicted to the madness / I'm a daughter of the sadness / I've been here too many times before / Been abandoned and I'm scared now / I can't handle another fallout / I am fragile, just washed upon the shore / They forget me, don't see me / When they love me, they leave me" -I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me, Demi Lovato “I'm overwhelmed / I need a voice to echo / I need a light to take me home / I need a star to follow / I don't know” -Nightingale, Demi Lovato "I'm a walking travesty / But I'm smiling at everything. // Arrogant boy, Love yourself so no one has to." -Therapy, All Time Low "I tried it once before but I didn't get too far / I felt a lot of pain but it didn't stop my heart. / But maybe I'm alive 'cause I didn't really wanna die / But nothing very special ever happens in my life / Take the blade away from me I am a freak, I am afraid that / All the blood escaping me won't end the pain / And I'll be haunting all the lives that cared for me / I died to be the white ghost / Of the man that I was meant to be" -Ghost, Badflower "Are the pieces of you / In the pieces of me? / I'm just so scared / You're who I'll be / When I erupt / Just like you do / They look at me / Like I look at you" -DNA, Lia Marie Johnson Movies and series to try : -The Perks of Being a Wallflower (The book is bomb af. if yall havent tried, ur missing out) -The Kings of Summer -Never Let Me Go -The Art of Getting By -Silver Linings Playbook -Winter’s Bone -The Lovely Bones (The script. The words) -Me and Earl and the Dying Girl -American Horror Story -Black Swan

pps. remember that every one has their own pace and point of view. don’t push yourself too hard, and don’t overthink. give yourself time, and respect all your emotions. analyze them but not more than like 5 minutes as anything beyond that might cause you to overthink and be sadder. and sad is not rad. hehe. you got this. you got you. self love is the best even though it can be tricky to do. nobody else is like you. you’re the only one of you (i just remembered me.......... i might have hummed it while typing it mid sentence). consider other people’s opinion but do not let it cloud your own judgement as you know yourself best. dont let other comment’s define you. spread love. vibe people you vibe with. ayeeee lets go!!! 

ppps this is my last post bc im happier now and know myself better. i no longer limit myself on the age that I want. I want to live as long as how God wants me to be. hehe. 

x :D

[puckngrind]

Skating Lessons part 27

Summary: Picks up at the trade deadline.  Sorry this has been long overdue.  My brain and my heart were fighting.

Warnings: the usual...swearing, sexual content

Word count: 2280

Series Masterlist

You did not realize a person could hold their breath for weeks but the day after the trade deadline you felt it and so did Josh.

"You can stop jumping every single time the phone rings Baby girl." he whispered into your ear early in the morning on the 25th before heading off to the plane. "We aren't going anywhere right now."

The "right now" part still freaked me out. You caught bits of conversation between Josh and his agent about what to expect for contract negotiations and you worried that a trade was looming. For now you lived in the moment that your man was staying right where he belonged.  You were so worried about the long roadie before which seems silly looking from where you’ve come from and what could have happened.  You knew the time to talk about summer plans was coming even with the team staying in the playoff run, you could feel summer coming with a few warm days strung together where Mason begged to get the kiddie pool out of storage.

“Momma, why can’t we just get the pool out even if it’s just for a few days?”  Mason almost whined.

“Mace, we will get it out AFTER school is out, okay?  For now, the sprinkler will due plus Josh bought new squirt guns for you two to play with.”  You didn’t even look up from your phone while drinking coffee reading an article about unrestricted free agency that you knew was a worm hole but didn’t want to ask Josh about.  You heard his bag hit the floor from morning skate and his feet shuffle.

“I’m not going on the Canada roadie.”  He mumbled while kissing your hairline.

“What...the...what?”  You put down your phone and stood up to follow him into the kitchen.  His ass hanging out of the fridge.  You would normally take a whack at it but you could feel he wasn’t in the mood.  “Baby?  Talk to me.”  Your hands lightly rubbed his back as he stands up and leans against the fridge as it closes.  

“I’m not going on the Canada road trip.  I’m day to day because of this damn shoulder.”  He rubbed the shoulder he hurt during playoffs last season and had been milking all year.

“I’m sorry Sweetie.”  You used all your might to pull him in and hold him tight.  He body almost limp under your touch.

“I mean, I guess you can be happy you have me home?”  He rubs the back of his neck as you stare up at his sad puppy dog eyes.  

“I’m not.  I know you were looking forward to all the team bonding on that trip, seeing Bo, and I know an injury right now is not good for you.”  You kiss his chest and lay your chin in the divet you swear was made for you.  “But, rest now maybe what you need for the playoff run, right?  You can smell the cup can’t you?!?”  You see a slight smirk on his face and he flexes around your waist.

“Have you been talking to the coaches?” He kisses your forehead and smiles bigger.  “’cuz you sound just like what they just told me after our skate.”  

“Maybe I’m getting better at this hockey thing?”  You wink and he laughs.  You are thankful that you can lift his mood.  “So, do you have any...uh...”  You look to see if Mason is in ear shot and he’s no where to be found.  “Uh, restrictions on that shoulder of yours?”  You bite your lip and bat your eyes.

“Oh wow (y/n)!  I just told you I’m injured enough not to go on a multiple game trip and all you are thinking about is THAT?”  His smirk reaches his eyes and he pulls you up.  “No, I don’t have any restrictions in that sense of the word.  Just have physical therapy and some treatments they want me to try plus morning skates every day the team is gone.”

“Made you smile at least.  Didn’t it Anderson?”  You wiggle to get out of his grip and he laughs.

“True.  You are fantastic at doing that.  Did I just see Mason in a swimsuit fly by the window?”  Josh’s attention is pulled to the window.

“Yes, you hockey boys get a taste of warmth and you all think it’s time to break out the swimwear!”  You turn to look out at Mason running around the yard.

“OH!  Squirt guns!”  Josh jumps and runs towards the closet you stashed them.  You toss up your arms in disbelief and follow Josh to the back door.  

“You two are going to need a bowl to fill those!”  You announce as you walk out to the backyard with a bowl from the kitchen in hand.  You are still in shock that Josh is now in his shorts and hooking up the hose for Mason.

The sun is warm on your face but no where near warm enough for what you were watching.  Your boys having an epic battle in the backyard giggles filling the space.  You go to take a picture and realize you left your phone in the house.  Quickly you jog back in to retrieve it, sliding it into your sweatshirt pocket.  You don’t even make it out the door before you hear Josh yell, “ATTACK!”  Sure enough you are bombarded with streams of water coming from two directions.  You shriek and run back in side.  

“BOYS!”  You yell while using the door as a shield.  “I am not playing!”  Which makes Mason drop to the ground laughing and Josh’s eyes get lost in his laugh.  “Seriously.”

“Okay, okay, no squirting Momma this time Mace.”  Josh heads to the door and blows a kiss at you mouthing the word sorry.  You smile and retreat to change your now wet clothing.

You hated that Josh was missing a major road trip but having him home was nice.  He played dinosaurs, hot wheels, and knee hockey most evenings while you made dinner.  He helped with his preschool homework which you loved listening to.

“What rhymes with sock Mason?”  Josh was pointing to the flash card his teacher sent home.

“Cock.”  Mason proudly said picking up the flash card on the table.  Josh choked on air and you swooped in.

“Clock...Mason, say it with me...Clllllock.”  You pointed to your mouth to emphasize the L in clock.  Mason tried again while you eyed Josh to get his shit together.

“Good just bud!  How about we work on your letter of the week paper now?”  Josh tries to compose himself and you retreat back to the kitchen.

You realized this is what life in the summer would feel like.  Josh home most of the time with the exemption of workouts and on pick up and drop off duty before the season started.  It seemed so fantastic until you realize it’s all in Columbus that you picture this life.

“Your brain is in overdrive and I don’t know how to stop it.”  Josh pulls you in after tucking Mason in.  The team had just gone dog sledding and Josh was happy for them but you could see the sadness in his eyes with every swipe of an insta-story.  “How can I help?”

“I should be asking you the same thing.  I know it’s hard seeing all the guys posts about dog sledding and you are here picking Mason up from Preschool.”  your lips caress his and he pulls back.

“Speaking of pick up duty, My good looks and charm aren’t really cutting it anymore with pick up duty.”  he pulls away and leads you down the hall.

“I’m confused.”  You head to the bathroom to get ready for bed while Josh strips down.

“Well, when I was picking up Mason here and there I could flash my smile and they wouldn’t give me grief about the fact that I’m not on the approved pick up list.  Today was interesting.”  Josh leans in the door frame in just his boxers.

“Holy shit Josh.  I didn’t even think about it.  I’ll send an email right now and a note in Mason’s backpack.”  You go to pull your hair back and Josh closes the space between you two.

“It’s okay.  How about you send an email in the morning, you are looking fine as hell right now.”  He picks you us and places you on the counter.  His lips ghosting your exposed skin.  

“Should you be picking me up J?”  You lean into the mirror.

“Stop worrying about me!”  He growled into your skin.  “Want to take this to our bed then?”  His eyes met yours with a passion that was intoxicating.  You nod your head and jump down sliding your body down his causing a moan to escape his lips.  “Damnit you really have a way of knowing exactly what will turn me on don’t you?”  Josh bites at your ear as you start to remove your clothing slowly while making your way to the bed.

“I’m glad after all this time I still do it for you.”  Your statement was less confident than it sounded coming out of your lips but it got Josh’s attention.

“Babe, you will always do it for me.  I have no doubt in my mind.”  Josh climbs up the bed with you kissing your lips softly when he finally reaches you.

“Really?”  You run your hands down his chest and over his shoulder.

“Fuck yes.”  Josh presses his clothed cock onto your core to prove his point which sent shock waves throughout your body.

“Hmmmm...” You go to make a statement but Josh has other ideas.  His hand slides down to rid body of his only article of clothing.  His fingers then dance at your core before dipping inside.  You gasp at the feeling and your back arches up into him.  “Josh that feels...”  You lose your words in his kiss.  Before you can even realize what’s happening Josh as pulled his fingers out of your heat and inched himself into you.

“Oh Baby.  You feel amazing.”  He whispers in your ear while bottoming out.  He pulls back and you run your hands over his shoulders then down his back.

“Josh, are you sure your shoulder is...” He bites at your lip and thrusts even harder into your core making you shudder.

“Yes.  Would you like to switch so we both can orgasm because I’m not going to last long?”  He doesn’t even wait for you to answer before he swings both of your bodies around and you sit up.  A grunt erupts out of Josh’s mouth as his hands slide over your hips and his hips thrust hard up into you while you press down into him.  You find a rhythm that you can tell will bring you both climaxing in moments and you ride it out.  Josh pulls you down onto his length as you feel him release deep inside of you while your orgasm washes over you to where you crash into his chest.  His hands release from the death grip on your hips and he brushes them up your back.

“Well...” You try to breathe out while catching your breath.  

“Maybe I should have used this shoulder this as an excuse before tonight?”  Josh chuckles and you hear it deep in his chest.

“Not funny Anderson.”  You poke at his ribs and wiggle which you know will overstimulate you both but it was worth it.  He jumps.

“See, you still do it for me...I cannot even last that long!”  He laughs again and you join in.

“Well I’m glad because you are stuck with me.”  You start to get up and Josh rolls you over.  

“Not so fast.”  He pulls you into his chest and you breathe him in.  In that moment you wondered if his smell would change in the off season.  Would not showering at the rink change the smell you have grown fond of.  Your eyes start to mist.  “Are you crying because the sex was so good?  Did I hurt you?”  Josh pulls your body away from his to inspect why he heard you sniffle.

“No, just keep thinking out summer life will be like since we haven’t talked about it since our big argument.”  You sit up on your elbow and look at the man you love.

“And that made you cry?”  Josh runs his thumb across your lips.

“Not really crying but I got emotional for a second. Yes.”  No need to hide it.

“I’m completely off Sunday, can your parents watch Mason and we can hash out all the things for the summer then?”  He kisses your lips softly.

“That should work.  I really don’t want him to hear all of this yet and we need actual time to talk not just these few moments here and there.”  you go to lean on Josh’s chest and he pulls you in tighter than normal.

“Sounds like a plan!”  Josh says enthusiastically.  “Mason won’t be staying up for the game either so we can finish talking during the game too.  Hopefully it’s the last game I will have to sit out this season and I’ll be on the ice Thursday.”

“I hope so Babe.  Mace won’t stop asking if you will be playing the stinky Pens next week because he wants to go.”

“Are you going to let him on a weeknight?”

“If it’s your first game back we will be there cheering on our favorite Jacket!”  You said looking up at Josh again.

“And by favorite Jacket you mean...”  Josh has a smug look on his face.

“You, Josh!  Always you!”  You giggle and he squeeze you tight.