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chiwhorei · 4 years ago

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𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭

cross-posted to Ao3!

pairing: issei “horse cock” matsukawa x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~4.4k

tags: stripper!issei, stripper!seijoh, roommate!oikawa, tendoukawa (bc @heauxzenji said it an it’s now the only ship in my head) dry humping, lap dance, a little corruption, spitting, public, alcohol and recreational drug consumption (weed and coke), spanking, degradation, hardly edited

a/n: howdy! this is my contribution to the smut pile’s western collab and it is so incredibly late but what the hell else is new. the masterlist for the collab can be found here! @messwriting and myself, in true chaotic duo fashion, built an absolutely depraved multiverse of seijoh strippers: the lawbreakers. lee, i love you so much. this journey we’ve been on the past few months has been chaotic and beautiful, and there’s plenty more to come.

the multiverse: hanamaki || iwaizumi || kyoutani

hymn: save a horse (ride a cowboy) by big & rich

and all the girls say— save a horse, ride a cowboy

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash.

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills.

It feels like observing an exhibit at a museum, or a zoo. Lines of coke, random dustings of pot and discarded swisher tobacco, too many open handles of liquor. Sitting on an end table is a bright pink teddy bear with a cowboy hat on it’s head.

How the fuck did you get here?

***

You shift your weight on either foot, arches aching already. The pair of jeans and top you had planned on wearing tonight were all but ripped off of your body, casual boots thrown down the hallway with sadistic glee and replaced with heels that are taller and a dress much too short.

“Damnit, you’re walking too fast.” Your appointed captor turns around dramatically, stopping in his tracks to watch you catch up. The cigarette pressed into his mouth cards in two fingers and extended towards you as a peace offering. You take the half gone stick and bring it to your lips.

Tendou’s mission was simple, drag his boyfriends roommate and best friend-- possibly kicking and screaming-- out for a night she won’t soon forget.

“Were those really necessary, Satori?” You point with the remnants of his cigarette and he feigns a kicked-puppy expression, looking down dramatically at his all black outfit contrasting drastically with a flashy pair of brownish-red cowboy boots.

“I am being a supportive partner. Plus Tooru and I wear the same shoe size.” His hair is bright outlined by the neon sign above the building.

You inhale smoke and nicotine, eying him over once again before continuing.

“Does it bother you when he’s dancing on all of those horny women?” The cigarette butt falls to the ground, you snuff it out while exhaling remnant smoke from your nose, the bachelorette party walking towards the door in a parade screaming emphasizes your question.

Tendou pulls you close, mouth pressing against your neck to bite against the skin. You jerk away from his embrace, with a feeble push against his chest to match the scoff scratching against your throat. The tall red head above you, currently leaned into the dip on your neck, always has an air of vulgar humor and zero personal space.

“Watching my pretty little boyfriend grinding on women that would never stand a chance with him,” he pulls away just in time to catch another eye roll before grabbing your wrist to pull you inside, “I think it’s hot as fuck.”

You stumble behind him, the doorman recognizing your friend immediately and lets the pair of you through tacky saloon doors. You catch a glimpse of the tattered sign standing right next to the entrance.

Lawbreaker’s Presents: The Guys of the Wild West

The club is drastically warmer than outside, the chill in your barely covered limbs thaws in a mixture of stage lights and body heat.

You sigh deeply as the sound of country music fills your ears, seemingly in rhythm with the squawking of drunken hens sipping on tall flutes of champagne. Thinking back briefly to when you first signed the lease with Oikawa, you remember he wore glasses and a sweater vest.

He said he worked as a “fitness instructor.”

“Ah, my two favorite people in the whole world,” Tooru’s ears just have been burning at your recollection, as your roommate appears in front of you in nothing but white spandex shorts and a pair of shiny boots to match, a tray of drinks is placed to the side on an unoccupied table. The white cowboy hat on his head gleamed in the low light of the club, rhinestone star shimmers-- you want to shy away from the bright refraction hitting your eyes.

He looks in his element, completely confident and cocksure as he walks around in only underwear and body oil.

“Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.” Oikawa melts into Tendou’s side, he looks just as content in the current atmosphere. Tendou seems at home in any ecosystem he wanders into.

“The show starts in 15, go get yourself a drink and try to pull the stick out of your ass. I’m going to, uhm, wish Tooru an extra special good luck.”

“I really didn’t need to know that, thanks. Tooru, break a leg.” You turn around at the sight of the wandering, tattooed hand on it’s journey south on Oikawa’s abdomen and retreat to the bar. You aren’t shocked by the display, not hardly, not with the two of them using almost every surface in your apartment as a debauched playground.

The space around you is emptier than you imagined it would be, but there is still time before the night actually starts. The bartender approaches just as you sit down on one of the wooden stools, every fixture around you is designed to look like an old saloon-- save for the strobing lights and dj booth.

You order something strong and amber, partially to stay in-theme, partially for the nerves settled in your stomach that draft beer wouldn’t be able to curb.

The woman smiles brightly and turns to pour your liquor, leaving you to pick at a cocktail napkin and await your friend’s return.

“You’re Shittykawa’s roommate.” A stranger's voice is deep and bellowing, sounding high above your ear. You swivel in your seat, gaze meeting a tanned chest instead of a set of eyes. Trailing upwards past thick black tattoos and an unavoidable pair of silver nipple rings.

You can feel the muscles in the back of your neck as they strain to meet his chocolate brown stare, he looks amused as you all but gawk at him.

“Yes, uh, I am. And you’re, uhm--” the train of thought you try to hang onto derailed completely by a devastating smile, “one of Tooru’s co-workers?”

If his smile wasn’t enough, his laugh could level the building around you. Your new friend taps the black Stetson against the bar top before putting it back on his head. He gestures broadly to his attire, or lack thereof, with another disarming and smooth chuckle.

“What gave that one away, darlin’?” You realize how stupid your question sounded, mentally kicking yourself but trying desperately not to show it on your face.

Long, thick legs are wrapped in a pair of leather chaps, the tight fabric hides nothing even if it covers most of his lower half. A matching vest hangs open on his chest, the muscles in his arms look bigger than your head. He seems huge in presence and physique, your own form is a shrinking violet below him.

“Your drink, dear. Double Jack n’ Coke.” The bartender slides a glass towards you, and you accept it with a gracious smile. The distraction is definitely appreciated, any excuse to break the eye contact that has you dissolving like lye.

“Jack n’ Coke, a gal after my own heart.” You choke, a coupling of small coughs break out of your chest. You curse your bodies reaction, you don’t even know--

“You’re name, uh, w-what’s your name.” Casual conversation seems like the best option, because it’s only been two minutes with the almost-naked Casanova and there’s a gnawing feeling that you don’t want him to walk away.

You blame it on the alcohol not yet even running through your veins.

“Call me anything you want, pretty girl, but my name’s Issei.”

A smile creeps from one end of your mouth to the other. His presence is jarring to say the least, but there’s something about the way his teeth peek out past curled lips that makes you want to lean in instead of away.

Tendou calls your name, effectively pulling you out of Issei’s orbit and reminding you where you are. Heat flushes in waves on your face as Tendou wraps his long arms around your shoulders from behind. Acknowledging your new friend with a pointed, “Howdy partner,” before turning to order his own drink.

“Something sweet please, and strong.” You hear his voice singing to the bartender but still face Issei, having his attention is more intoxicating than whiskey. You want him to talk to you, to ask you questions, to grace you with that smile over again.

You feel the ability to breathe escaping when Issei leans into you impossibly close, his hand enclosing around your back and pulling you in so slightly you could swear you imagined it.

“It was nice to meet you. Make sure I hear ya’ out there, darlin.”

You’re left almost falling from the bar stool, watching as Issei strides toward the back. The way his hips sway is unfair in every--

“Hey,” Tendou’s fingers come up to snap in front of your face, “Didya hear me? Let’s go take our seats.”

That’s right; you feel like you’ve just run a marathon, heart beating erratically at the briefest interaction, your night hasn’t even started yet.

You’re dragged directly towards the front of the stage and sat in a small two person table. You agreed to the night out between gritted teeth, hauled to the uber with absolute defiance; but most of your protest has fizzled away-- definitely not due to a pair of deep brown eyes and planes of perfectly tanned skin-- as you get comfortable next to the boisterous bridal party. You can hear their idle, drunken chatter at your back.

“I heard they call one of the dancers ‘Mad Dog’. Apparently he’s totally feral.”

“One of them is nicknamed the ‘Big Tease’, he really likes the pretty little brides~”

“Oh yeah? Well there’s one dancer called ‘Horse Cock’. I’m going to go home with him.”

The women behind you howl with laughter, enjoying their friend’s last night of freedom. The straw in your drink twirls idly, thoughts drifting with each turn of the plastic against your liquor. Surely, Issei had just intended a friendly introduction, he wouldn’t be raking in tips by being unapproachable.

Friendly, you decide, repeating it to yourself until the lights drop and a black curtain is pulled up, he was just being nice.

* * *

The show starts out mostly how you would expect. Through a few sets, toned, beautiful guys take their clothes off and fling articles at the screaming, panting crowd. The table next to you gets the most attention, bridal parties, you assume, would be the prized cash cow.

Oikawa comes out in the most obnoxious, white and teal outfit and strips into nothing but a thong and boots. Every inch of his skin sparkles, the cause becoming obvious when he jumps down to the audience and swivels his hips and ass right into your lap. Your hand comes up to his hip reflexively to brace yourself-- of course, body glitter.

You watch on at the sweaty writhing of the most beautiful men you have ever seen in real life. The atmosphere around you is absolutely contagious, it’s impossible not to fall into the rhythm, losing inhibitions with every stray piece of fabric as it’s tossed into the sea of women.

Just as you lean over to Tendou to admit that you’re enjoying yourself, the next song blasts loudly from the speakers. The beat vibrates your table, soaking into every nerve, but is almost drowned out completely by the shrieking from every patron around you. They must know what’s coming.

Looking back up front, you realize why the crowd is losing their minds. The man that commanded your attention at the bar is even more alluring now. His strut to center stage is deliberate, flashing smiles and winks to no one in particular and hypnotizing every person in his reach.

Issei is stunning in his element, soaking in the reaction with a humble tip of his hat. You could swear, though you’re sure that it’s just your imagination, that he’s looking right at you.

His performance starts out like the rest of them, but each movement of his tattooed hands as they travel over his chest is spellbinding.

Issei discards his leather vest and tosses it to the side, it feels like you’re watching him in slow motion. He’s gorgeous, skin tanned and tight over thick muscle, arms wrapped in black ink and shining with sweat.

His chaps are next, ripped from his legs just as music behind him picks up. The wedding party next to you so loud you swear the laundromat next door can hear.

All that’s left is a thong that’s barely covering his cock. You try desperately not to, but all your eyes can focus on is the bulge under a tiny piece of black leather. Your thighs rub together in search of any relief to the feeling growing hot and slick in your stomach.

He moves like liquid platinum, every long, deliberate swivel of his hips and overt palming over his crotch is enough to cause delirium. He soaks in every whistle and shriek of his name, vibrating on the high of squelching attention.

Issei is a natural. He’s a wild animal, and, along with every other woman there, you wish he would tear you apart with his canines.

He descends the short staircase with a quick stomp of his boots, now making rounds through the crowd. He stops in front of tables at random, invading the space between strangers and collecting wrinkled one dollar bills.

Why does something so blatantly performative feel voyeurous?

All you can do is gawk, ignoring how every time another woman’s hand runs down his abdomen you heat with envy. As he turns away from the bridal party neighboring you, your blood turns ice cold.

Issei has you, unmistakably, in his sights. His eyes pin you, holding you down tightly in your chair as he struts forward. Tendou whistles loudly as the brunette approaches your table. You wonder, in your last moment of cognizance, if Saroti and Tooru had planned your evening in more detail that you originally thought.

“Long time no see, darlin’,” Issei stands over you, and all you can do is stare dumbly up at him, “do ya trust me?”

You don’t answer, not with words, not like he would even hear your quiver over Big & Rich booming through the speakers. His question is stupid, to trust someone you just met so vaguely?

You do. Against any better judgement, you do.

He doesn't give you the chance to ask what he means, stuck in the gooey feeling of his attention. Issei reaches behind you, picking up your half empty glass. He swirls the drink with an almost evil smile before bringing it up to his lips and draining the last bits of whiskey and coke.

Your face reads confused, not putting his intentions together until you feel his thumb pressed against your chin. Issei’s eyebrow quirks, eyes trained on your reaction. You’re options are to shy away, turning back in your seat, running for escape in the bathroom, or--

The gloss on your mouth is sticky as your lips part in obedience. Issei tries to hide his elation, but it’s difficult to remain aloof as your tongue lulls out and your eyes beg him.

Issei’s hold on your chin tightens, nudging you to lean in so he’s only inches away. Your eyes shut lightly, the shouting surrounding you sounds little more than a whisper with the blood rushing in your ears.

You swear you can hear him groan above you as the sharp taste of liquor hits your tongue. Willing your body to cooperate, you swallow the drink with only a small cough.

His face dips down, it seems like a habit now, to brush his promises against the shell of your ear once again.

“You’re an agreeable little thing, I think you can take it.”

His hands are on either side of your chair in a flash, lifting you up with trained, bulging muscles. You fall forward in your seat, bracing against Issei’s chest. Every cell in your body is tight with tension, if you lift your head up to meet the audience’s eyes, you’re sure you’ll crack like glass.

He steals you from relative comfort, shifting your weight in his arms as he ascends back onto stage. You’ve gone limp in his hold, pliant to his will. The unfamiliar presence at a dusty bar top has turned into more than a front row seat to depravity.

You’re thrown off balance as he sets you down, eyes adjusting to the white hot stage lights. You’re exposed to every set of eyes in the building, even if you can’t see him-- you know Satori is smiling from one sharp cheek to the other. Wherever Tooru is, he’s most likely sitting in the same satisfaction.

Aren’t you glad you came out tonight? I promise, you’re going to have a great time.

Issei rounds the back of your chair so his actions are hidden from your view. The brim of a leather cowboy hat breaches your field of vision, much too big for your head.

His hands come down onto your shoulders, snaking down your bare arms. His touch leaves a scorching fleet of chills. Issei runs his finger tips upwards, tracing against your collarbone before wrapping his grip lightly around your neck.

He can feel it, he has to, the racing pulse right under the surface of your skin.

The music transitions effortlessly, going almost unnoticed. The next song, still sharp with a cheesy country twang, is slower, deeper.

Issei’s thumb brushes against your cheek, your body wants to relax into the touch before it remembers how public the gesture is.

You hold in a shaky breath as he comes to stand in your eyeline again, you might as well be bound to your chair with rope. He looks larger than life-- in both stature and presence-- in front of you. His skin is glistening, refracting from the harsh lights with sweat and oil.

He is an unstoppable force against your will. Your desire to hide from the blinding attention is nothing compared to the desire to please. To please a stranger, to please the man you met only an hour ago.

To please Issei.

He flashes you another wink, taking a moment to rake his stair down your body. He memorizes the outline of your cute little dress, red is definitely your color.

Issei slides across the smooth surface of the stage to meet where you’re perched. The barreling, almost naked body now impossibly close to where your knees are pressed together.

He starts at your ankles, tracing the soft skin of your legs until his palms press flatly against your lower thigh. Issei savors the moment for a beat longer before prying your legs apart.

The crowd below you is loud and hollow in your ears, the shame bubbling up against your cheeks and nose is nothing compared to the pressure between your legs.

Issei’s hands wander up and under the hem of your skirt, scratching his nails on the vulnerable skin before they find his prize in the form of thin lace.

The “Wait” and “Stop” sitting on your lips shrivels up and dies as your panties are ripped off. You see the bright color, the last remnants of opposition twirling around his pointer and middle finger.

The crowd goes wild, watching as your body is made a fantasy that they can all live vicariously by. all you can do is watch as the fabric is stuffed into the side of his thong to accompany fistfuls of singles.

* * *

You’re still in shock by the final dance, still under a trance as Tendou pulls you towards the back. Stumbling behind him to catch up, you’re given no time to think about what you’re about to walk into.

A fog of smoke burns in your eyes. The room around you feels like it could curl in on itself, four walls marked sparsely with dusty furniture, the smell of weed and cash.

You fix your gaze onto a long, diagonal tear in the leather couch across the must and g-strings, the rip in upholstery is stuffed with wrinkled one dollar bills.

“I didn’t go too far did I?” Snapping back into reality, you hear Issei call to you. You’re vaguely comforted by a familiar voice before remembering the man attached had spat whiskey into your mouth and stolen your panties just 30 minutes prior. You heat up at the tips of your ears at the recollection of two things you had let him do, that you had wanted him to do.

Your eyes find Issei sitting on the couch on the opposite end of your freshly showered roommate, seemingly unbothered as Tendou flops down against the middle cushion and drapes both arms across the back.

“Don’t worry partner, our girl doesn’t startle easy.” Oikawa laughs, adjusting to sit across his boyfriend’s lap. Issei’s all leather outfit is replaced with a pair of grey sweats. He looks relaxed, effortlessly handsome.

What was it like, you wonder, before you knew how it felt to look at him? Life past the single night feels grey around the edges.

When was the last time you felt this alive?

He takes a sip of a water bottle, wiping off his chin with the large rose tattooed on his hand. You can’t stop staring at them-- the ones that roamed your body in front of a club full of drunk bachelorettes, the ones that traced your skin like he already had the map.

And now you watch those same hands, so new but so inviting, as two fingers curl inward. They pull you as if tightening a rope around your waist. You wade past tall sweaty men and freshly caught audience members as they tangle across dusty furniture.

You scoot by your best friends from where they sit next to Issei, ignoring the slap to your ass and the following laugh from Oikawa in between loud, sloshing kisses.

“Well, little one,” He pats his thigh, inviting you to the spot on his lap rather than the empty seat next to him, “you’re not gonna run away are ya?”

Every nerve in your body is twitching, you’re not sure if you could run if you wanted to.

You don’t.

Issei takes in your small nod of confirmation, pulling you into his hold. The position is awkward at first, perching on his knee as you try to keep your balance. He laughs, his arm snaking around your back so you relax into him. You fidget with your fingers as they lie against your lap, watching the bustling around you. A cloud of smoke settles in the air, you wonder if it’s a permanent haze of tobacco and pot-- the scent is probably painted into the walls.

“Is this what you expected?” Issei’s voice is low and close to your ear, you can feel the smile curled into his question. Your eyes are fixed forward, watching as Tendou pours a small white line into Oikawa’s collarbone and dives in nose first.

“Honestly,” you adjust, kicking your legs up over his other knee, “I’m pretty used to this kind of stuff.”

Even if your usual scene doesn't include a drug filled almost-orgy, you can’t say you’re fazed much. Not with the company you keep.

Even with the circus revolving around you, Issei is the only thing you can see. Everything else falls away but the smell of his body wash and the soft material of his sweats where they meet your naked legs.

His hand rests against your thigh, fingers just above then short hem of your party dress. The metal rings on each digit are cool against your burning skin. You’re sure Issei can feel the heat rising in your stomach as it spreads through your blood.

You feel him lean back, fishing something out of his pocket to set in your hands. You feel every hair stand on edge as the thin cotton drops into your grip, heavy as an anchor.

“You know what I think, darlin’?” Your breath hitches, the room around you squeezing tight against your shoulders, “I think you’re a natural on stage. I bet you would have let me do anything up there.”

A hand wanders down the path of your spine, rough fingerprints stroke past each vertebrae. You arch at the feeling, his skin is like a narcotic. The liquor still swimming in your mind is no match to this, to the heady smell of sex and sweat as it cuts through your senses.

Issei’s right, you’ll let him do anything to you. You’ll beg for it like you’re trying to pass the gates of heaven.

Your body moves of its own volition, legs swinging to straddle his waist. The material of your dress bunches over the curve of your ass, completely exposed to the room around you before being eclipsed by steady palms.

You would be, should be, embarrassed by the display of public depravity. No one around seems to notice, half naked is still more modest than most everyone else. Tendou and Oikawa have dissolved into a pile of spit and clashing teeth next to you, saving you from any snide quips. There’s nothing but Issei, face an inch away from you and lips tempting you to lean forward.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you I don’t usually do this?”

Glassy eyes flick dumbly at the man below you. He sees the wobble of your lip, the glaze in your stare as you memorize every feature on his face. Any reassurance sitting on his tongue dies when you crash your lips against his, hips rolling down into him and knocking him off guard.

Your kiss is searing and drips with finality. You’ve decided what bed you’ll wake up in the morning with your tongue tracing against his molars.

“No, not really.” Foreheads pressed together, it’s your turn to laugh. If you’re honest, you probably made this decision while still sitting at the bar.

You dip back in, emboldened with the bruising fingers digging against the fat of your hips. The feeling of your cunt pressed against his crotch could bring a man to his knees.

He’s not opposed, he’s just gotta get you home first.

all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️

#issei matsukawa x reader #issei matsukawa smut #mattsun smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #the smut pile collab #the smut pile western collab #the lawbreakers: multiverse #tw: drugs #tw: voyeurism #sin.drugs #sin.voyeurism

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xwing-baby · 4 years ago

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Impulse: The Beginning (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Nothing much! Mentions of misogyny/sexism, tobacco and alcohol use, show level violence, swearing

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: BACK TO THE BEGINNING LADS LETS SEE WHERE THIS SHIT SHOW STARTED

*Spanish translation at the end of the fic*

Have you read Part 1 yet? // Masterlist // Next Chapter -->

---

As one of only a few female agents in the DEA academy at the time, you had fought tooth and nail for your place from day one. Most of the men in your class thought you were useless and had campaigned on multiple occasions to get you taken out of the academy. This was mostly due to your success. You were a great agent already and were itching to get into some real action.

When the agency announced that they would be sending a couple of the highest achieving students from the graduating class out on a new placement program, you knew it was your chance. Incredibly, before you even got a chance to apply you were pulled aside by a professor and told you’d be selected. You were going to Colombia.

The fight in South America was all anyone spoke about. The tonnes they were hauling out was unmatched, it made Miami look like a small fry. A chance to go down there and help, maybe even take down some Narcos yourself, was one everyone dreamed of. Colombia alone had two of the biggest players, Pablo Escobar, and The Cali Cartel. Placement in that country would no doubt be the best learning experience you could ever get! Who knows, maybe you would be the one to catch Escobar!

It took a little convincing to your parents to let you go. They’d seen the news; they knew how dangerous it was and weren’t too keen on you going. Eventually, after a meeting with your coordinator they were convinced, you packed a bag and you flew down to Bogotá.

You were picked up at the airport and driven to the American embassy in the city to meet your mentor Agent Javier Peña. You hadn’t been told much about him other than he was from Texas and had been in Colombia for a while. Not a lot to go off. In your head you imagined some old cowboy, grumpy and hardened by the horrors of the world he had seen. He wouldn’t believe you when you appeared, would probably ask to have you removed immediately. You sighed, already resigning yourself to hate the man you were now forced to spend the next year with.

Your escort took you through the embassy, to the DEA’s office and promptly abandoned you at the door without another word. This was it. You pushed open the door and were instantly greeted by a cheery woman’s voice from behind a desk. Denise, according to her name plate, was filing her nails when you approached. She set the file down and smiled sweetly.

“Hey there, darling! What can I do for you?” Her voice had a strong southern twang to it, a quintessential southern belle with curled blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

“Hi, I’m here to see... Agent Peña,” You looked at that note in your hand to check you had the right person.

“‘Course sweetie, what’s your name?” She asked. You gave her your name and she told you to sit down in a seat opposite her desk for a moment while she called him. “So, you’re working with Peña?” She asked when she put the phone down again.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “What’s he like? I don’t really know what to expect,”

Denise giggled, “You’re certainly in for a treat darlin’. He’s something else,” You turned when her eyes watched someone through the window, “But I’m warning you now, don’t flirt with him,”

“I’m not-,” Your jaw dropped when the man in question walked past the window. Denise giggled, “Jesus Christ,” You muttered. He certainly was not the old man you had expected at all. He entered the room and you quickly shut your dropped jaw.

“Javier! Nice to see you,” Denise smiled at the man. You were shocked. Javier Peña was older, yes, but he was incredibly handsome. Tall, dark hair with dark eyes to match. He had a blue shirt on, unbuttoned just one too far. In such a professional environment it almost looked obscene. He smiled and your heart flipped.

“Denise,” Javier smiled charmingly at the assistant before turning to you, “who’s your friend?” Denise introduced you, “You’re the new kid?” He asked briefly looking you up and down, he shook your hand. Still a little dazed you smiled and nodded. “Quiet huh?”

“Sorry, uh it’s nice to meet you,” You pulled yourself out of your head, stumbling over your words as your brain caught up with what was actually going on.

“Let me show you round,” Javier chuckled, “I’ll see you later Denise,”

“See ya Javi,” She waved as you followed Agent Peña out of the office and down a new corridor.

“She’s cute. Is she your girlfriend?” You asked. Javier turned to you and shook his head.

“Never seen her before,” He smirked. You were glad he was walking ahead of you, as your jaw dropped. If he was like that with someone he had never met, what in hell was he like he was someone he liked?!

Javier took you around the office, showing the different places and meeting different people you would need to know. It seemed most people were exasperated by Javier; he was cocky and liked to get a rise out of people. He obviously didn’t really care for the bureaucracy of the job, much more an action guy than a paperwork guy. Despite your track record with these types previously, you got on well with Javier. He was easy to talk to and his confidence wasn’t arrogant.

You followed him around from room to room, making small talk about where you were from, how you’d been enjoying the academy and such. All the while you were trying to remember where everything was but ultimately failing. The place was a maze. Eventually you came to a small office tucked away in the corner of the building.

“And this, is where we live!” Javier said as he opened the room. The room was small, barely enough room for the two desks and row of cabinets inside. Behind one desk, engrossed in a manila file was a blonde man. He looked up when you entered, giving Javier a questioning look, “This is the Rookie,”

“Y/n,” You added. You were pretty sure he had forgotten your name, introducing you as Rookie to the last three people you had met.

“That's what I meant to say,” He replied, waving you off.

“Nice to meet you Rookie,” The blonde man grinned and chuckled, “Steve Murphy,”

“Nice to meet you sir,” You reached over the messy desk and shook his hand.

“Sir? I could get used to that! Bit of respect round here would be nice,” Steve laughed. “Steve will work just fine,”

“Or pendejo, he does respond to that too,” Javier added.

“Real funny Peña,” Steve snapped back. You chuckled. You stood in the doorway for a moment, watching as Javier chaotically cleared a space for you at his desk by moving a pile of paper from one surface to another.

“We’re moving out of here soon,” He explained, you nodded. He offered a chair, and a cigarette. You took both. “Did you have any trouble at the airport?” Javier asked. You shook your head.

“Nope. Bat my eyelashes and they don’t seem to worry,” You laughed to yourself. Javier raised an eyebrow.

“You get a lot of things done that way?” He asked. Your smile dropped quickly.

“No. I got here on credit, didn’t fuck my way to the top of that’s what your asking Agent Peña,” You said seriously, “Get that straight now. I’m just as good as any man, in fact I’m better. I don’t deal well with sexist assholes,”

“Out of line, I got it,” He threw his hands up in defence, leaning back on his chair. You turned to Murphy, who shrugged.

“All good,”

“Good,” you confirmed, “I don’t want you to think I’m rude, I just have to make it clear,”

“Crystal,”

The rest of the day was a blur, shipped about from one office to another getting badges and meeting important people. You were exhausted. Despite the copious amounts of coffee, you consumed, you had to force your eyes to stay open during the car ride home with Javier. You had been awake for more than twenty-four hours and added to the stress of a new job; you were ready to crash.

You said thanks to your mentor and dragged yourself up the stairs to your own apartment. You had only been inside your apartment briefly to drop off your bag earlier in the day. You could barely remember what it looked like.

The apartment was small and dark. There was a good-sized living room with a lumpy looking couch and a tv set. A small kitchen sat next to the entry door, separated by a half to the living room. Three doors came off the living room walls, one to a small closet, one to a tiny pink tiled bathroom and the last to a bedroom. The bedroom had a large window looking out over the street and the city beyond. There was a dresser with handles that were falling off and a double bed. The covers were old, and the colour had faded, the whole structure creaked when you sat down. The whole apartment seemed faded and old, but it would do.

You lay down, fully clothed, and smiled up at the ceiling. You had made it. You had done it! You were in Colombia, working for the DEA fighting Pablo freaking Escobar! You had succeeded beyond anyone’s expectation and you were excited to prove everyone who had ever doubted you wrong.

You hit the ground running the next day. Between moving the office to a new location, learning the ropes of the job, and catching up on ongoing investigations you felt like you never stopped. You had been home only to sleep for a few hours. You’d change your outfit, shower, and head straight back to work. You had quickly learnt that Javier was not going to be what you imagined your mentor would be, he was much more of ‘do as I say not as I do’ kind of teacher. In one week, you had already seen things that would have you kicked out of the academy if you were caught doing it. You had realised this experience would be much more of an experience to reflect on later than learn any real textbook things from day to day.

Friday was here. You knew you could get at least a few hours rest tomorrow, hoping that you wouldn’t be called in. You’d steadily been making your way through case notes, trying to make some sort of system so the immense amount of information through your desk wouldn’t get lost. You hadn’t noticed Steve and Javier call you, until Javier tapped on the desk next to you. You looked up.

“Rookie! Come on,” He motioned over to Steve who was waiting at the door, Kevlar vest in hand. You were going out on a raid!

“Seriously?” Your eyes lit up and you jumped up. You rushed to get your gun from the draw and raced after the two agents. Finally, you were getting to see some action. You were itching with excitement to finally be able to go into the field. All your training was leading up to this! A moment which for most agents didn’t happen for years! You ran to the courtyard and jumped into the backseat Javier’s truck

Javier fiddled with a radio on the dash until audible orders could be heard, barked through the walkie-talkie giving the plan for the raid. It was the house of a known sicario, not a big player in the grand scheme of things but they would have valuable information.

“When we get out there, you’re staying in here, got it?” Javier said once the orders were given.

“I don’t want to be left on the side-lines and watch! How am I meant to learn anything sitting in a truck?”

“You can stand outside the truck,” Javi offered. You

“Come on!” You begged, “Steve?”

“It’s not my call, Rookie,” Steve shrugged. You sighed.

“So, I’m meant to stand around and watch you have all the fun?”

“Quit whining,” Peña replied, glancing at you in the rear-view mirror. You frowned and settled back in your seat, your excitement dying a little.

After a few minutes of driving through the city, the convoy stopped outside a large house on the corner of a street. Javier parked and the two men jumped out of the vehicle slipping on their vests as they did. You took a deep breath, calming yourself, before stepping outside to join them.

Men started piling out of the cars and taking their places cordoning off the area. Steve was the first to get stuck in, immediately walking over to the man you assumed was in charge. You followed him, just to hear how raids were set up. Not so you could get involved, of course.

“Where are you going?” Javier asked as you walked past him.

“With Steve?” You replied cautiously, motioning over to the blonde a few paces ahead. Javi raised a brow.

“Rookie…” He warned.

“Javier…?” You replied in the same tone, as if you didn’t know exactly what he was going to say.

“Stay,” He said firmly, holding his hand up like a command given to a dog. You frowned.

“I’m not a dog,” You argued, Javi grinned and patted you on the head.

“Good girl,” You scowled at him, making him laugh again before he walked away to join his partner.

“Jerk,” You called after him. You complied, reluctantly, leaning back on the hood of the truck and watching from afar. You knew that it was a dangerous situation and you didn’t have much experience yet; you weren’t going to be seeing any up-close action for a while. It was for your own safety and everyone else's.

But it was boring.

After a short while of preparations and what seemed a lot like just milling about. The team entered the building. Those who were left outside visibly relaxed. Now any superior officers had gone out of sight, the soldiers huddled in groups chatting amongst themselves keeping one eye on their post but mostly watching you.

None of them spoke to you, but you could hear them. They assumed you didn’t speak Spanish, like Steve, so spoke without a filter whilst within earshot. How attractive they thought you were, wondering about how you got your role and whether you’d show them how you got it if they got you drunk. It was disgusting, but not new. Men are the same world over, it seemed.

You leant against the hood of the truck and turned your attention to the matter at hand. You weren’t here to make friends after all. You were here to learn, here to work. If you couldn’t follow into the raid you could learn as much as you could from the outside.

Gunfire and shouting erupted from the building suddenly, making you jump in surprise. Nobody else seemed to take any notice, barely looking up. You watched intently following shadows in the windows. Then, out the corner of your eye you saw a man race from the building. You looked over at the men, still stood around, and back to the man from the building who had started to slow down, and nobody was chasing him. They didn’t see anything. This was your chance. Before anyone could stop you, you ran down the street after the escapee.

He spotted you instantly and began to run faster down the hill and around a corner. You kept up well until the corner revealed a large crowd of people between shops. Market stalls lined the streets and your target disappeared in the blink of an eye. You followed into the people, making sure to keep your gun down to avoid mass panic. You didn’t need more of a scene to let the guy escape

You skidded to a halt and looked around, immediately overwhelmed by the amount of people and directions the man could have gone. You walked to the middle of the intersection and looked left, nothing unusual, right, nothing. Your heart hammered into your ribcage as you tried to collect yourself. It was hard to concentrate under the sun. He couldn’t have gone far, you lost him for two seconds! Losing hope of a dramatic first arrest, you looked up another street, and couldn’t spot your target. You moved to slip your gun back into your holster until you turned and saw a man leant against a wall heaving for breath halfway back up the hill you had just run down. He thought he’d lost you.

You collected yourself with a slow breath and pursued the man again, this time slowly so you didn’t catch his attention. He hadn’t spotted you as you exited the crowd of the market and walked up the hill opposite side of the street, dipping your head so not to catch his eye. You reached for your gun, just ten feet away from him when he finally noticed and jumped up.

“Fuck!” You cursed out loud as you chased him once more. The steep hill made your legs burn, but unlike the man in your pursuit you could bare it. He was visibly flagging and by the time he reached the top of the hill he had given up and you had caught up.

You shoved him against the wall, keeping your gun to his back and leg round his to keep him still. Your heart was hammering in your chest, you laughed to yourself as the adrenaline swept you up.

“Te mataré,” The man spat at you, “puta,” You swiftly lifted your knee, kicking him in the balls making the man yelp. Was it necessary? No. But it felt brilliant.

“Shut up,” You replied. You smugly smiled until you realised you were now stuck. You had no handcuffs so had no way to move him. You had not thought this through at all. You looked around and to your surprise you had just run around the block and ended up on a few feet from where your chase had begun.

You watched the raid exit the house, dragging a few men in cuffs with them. You spotted Murphy and Peña, who quickly noticed that you were gone. You watched them look for you for a minute before calling out.

“Over here!” You called loud enough for the men to hear you. Murphy was the first to spot you and ran over quickly, with a few soldiers in tow.

“Thought we told you to stay by the truck,” He said.

“You missed one,” You replied. You removed yourself from your prisoner and stuck your gun back into the holster on your hip.

“Good job,” He praised you, clapping you on the back. “Bring him up,”

With handcuffs on, the two soldiers took the man into custody. You followed Steve back over to the trucks. You beamed with pride. You’re first ever arrest! You spotted Javier watching you as you approached, a smirk set on his lips and an eyebrow raised. Your pride wavered a little. Just as you got back to the truck, prepared to get berated by your mentor, a man in a green uniform stormed over to you. You dropped your smile quickly.

“Quien es ella?!” He asked, spitting out the words at Javier. “Porque esta ella aqui?” Despite him asking about you, the man never looked at you. His attitude immediately aggravated you and before Javier could open his mouth to reply you jumped in for him.

“Yo trabajo con Murphy y Peña,” You replied for him, a sarcastic smile on your face, driving home the point that you did understand what he was saying and that he couldn’t ignore you so blatantly.

“Carrillo this is Y/n L/n, Rookie this is Commander Carrillo,” Javier introduced you to Carrillo. Javier gave you a warning look, as if that was going to stop your temper. Carrillo looked you up and down then sneered.

“Eres un poco joven?” He turned to you. You scoffed.

“It’s a new placement programme the agency is trialling,” Peña jumped in again, “Don’t worry about it,”

“Oh, so my war is a place for you to test your kids huh?” Carrillo rolled his eyes, “Fucking gringos. I don’t want some girl here,” He waved you away, turning on his heel and walking away. You scoffed, anger taking over.

“Sir, with all due respect. Fuck you,” You called after him. Carrillo stopped walking, half turned back, shocked at the audacity of what you were saying, “If I wasn’t here that guy would have run off and it would have taken you another month to find him again. Personally, I think a thank you is in order,”

“Okay! In the truck, Rookie,” Steve finally stepped in, before Carrillo could reply. He grabbed you and pulled you out the way and back to the truck. Javier stood in the way of Carrillo, so he didn’t follow.

“What a jerk,” You grumbled as you slammed your door. You glowered in the backseat, watching Javier and Carrillo talk.

“About sums it up,” Murphy agreed.

“He looks pissed,” You commented as you watched Javier part with Carrillo and join you and Murphy ready to leave.

“He always looks like that,” Steve replied, making you chuckle. You were still nervous; you had completely stepped out of line saying that stuff to the commander. No doubt Javier was going to be just as mad. You picked at the loose thread on your shirt, staying quiet when Javier opened the door. “Good?” Steve asked.

“All good,” Javier replied as he shut the truck door. Steve started up the engine and pulled away from the scene.

“Seriously?” You were shocked.

“Oh no he hates you now, but he hated Steve for a while there too so don’t take it too personally,” Javier said, Steve chuckled. “You certainly know how to make a good first impression,”

“I’m not in trouble?”

“I’m a little worried you might be insane; I don’t think I would even say that shit to Carrillo!” Javier said, “But I will say you did a good job with that sicario so, I’ll buy you a drink to celebrate the occasion when we get back,”

Javier turned to look at you quickly, giving you a cheeky smirk. You grinned back. You’d done awesome today, a week into this placement and you’d already made an arrest. One bad guy off the street, all by yourself! You’d pissed off Carrillo, and while you were sure it would probably bite you in the ass further down the road, you had made an unforgettable impression and you couldn’t really bring yourself to care that he hated you.

That evening Javier kept his promise and brought you a drink at the bar after work. Sat with Murphy and Javier in a booth, listening as the two of them bickered like an old married couple, you couldn’t stop smiling.

“To Rookie!” Steve drunkenly called out, raising his beer up. “May you keep on ignoring orders and kicking ass!” You cackled with laughter and cheersed your teammates.

This was going to be a great year.

Next Chapter -->

See! I CAN be nice!!!

translations (as always i am learning PLEASE correct me if these are wrong!)

Te mataré - I will kill you

puta - bitch

Quien es ella? - who is she

porque esta ella aqui? - why is she here?

yo trabajo con Murphy y Peña - i work with Murphy and Peña

eres un poco joven - aren’t you a little young?

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!

tag list: @beskar-tano @buckysbeloved @beskarbabs @all-hallows-evie @harrys-stan @themidnightsun-12 @wille-zarr @danniburgh @itsaisopodkillmepls @urbankaite2 @whataloadofmalarkey @ahsofka @yeetus-my-feetus @sara-alonso @lesbianlena @xiao-lusi @all-good-things-have-an-ending @eternallyvenus @ajeff855 @mayangel19 @1950schick

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luvknow · 4 years ago

Text

in another lifetime | lee minho

genre: ceo/iron man!lee minho x secretary!reader | ceo au ; superhero au ; alcohol mention ; blood mention summary: you and your boss were inseparable. no one could understand how you could work ungodly hours for such an inexperienced ceo. but your job was to stick by Mr. Lee for as long as you were getting paid, and that meant being his date to charity balls and helping him turn into the country’s best superhero. wc: 18.9k a/n: rewrite of that one w**jin fic cuz fuck that guy ~! the public has spoken.... lee minho has been chosen as the winner

Secretary was your title, but you liked to think you were more than just that. Perhaps secretary was just an umbrella term for amateur sommelier slash novice multitasker slash the only employee who knew how to drive stick. Whatever your job entailed, you were sure to list all of those tasks in your updated resume when it was time to pass the torch onto some other poor sucker because you would much rather die than be a secretary for life.

It wasn’t like your boss was a total ass, or anything. That was actually the scary part - the fact that your boss was one of the kindest and most attentive people you’ve ever worked for, yet you still hated this job! What made this so horrid was the amount of walking and running your poor feet had to do. And guess what? No sneakers were allowed in the office, so you were left with walking over forty-thousand steps in a day in toe-pinching sole-aching glossy shoes that were half a size too big for your feet because shoes like these always ran out in your size in the store.

“Good morning, Mr. Lee,” you greeted, walking into his private office at 8:00 am on the dot as normal. With tired eyes, he looked up from his stack of blueprints and gave you a warm smile. You don’t know how he does it, but he always managed to welcome your morning visits with a smile that almost made you consider your resignation. “Iced americano, extra shot.”

“You are a blessing,” he praised graciously. One sip of the liquid gold was enough to wake him up right away.

“Long night?”

“Yeah. You know how it took us hours to decide the wall colors for each floor in our building? Imagine doing that all over again, but for a superhero suit prototype.”

“But it’s just a suit this time, not fifty floors.”

“This isn’t just a suit, _____. It’s the suit of a man who’s going to save the world one day! A suit that everyone will lay their eyes on and judge me for my color choices.”

“You sound like a child.”

“An ambitious child, mind you.”

“Did you ultimately decide on a color?”

“Yes, two colors actually. Red and gold.”

“Wow, such a loud and loyal color choice.”

“Is it?” Your handsome boss pouted slightly while scanning his designs. “Seungmin said the same thing. Maybe I should change it -”

“No!” you interrupted for the sake of not wanting to look up Pantone’s thousands of shades of ruby and champagne. “Red and gold are perfect for you.”

Minho’s pouty lips melted into a proud smile. “If you believe so, then I trust you. Come take a look - what do you think of it overall?”

You walked around his ginormous custom-made walnut desk to peer over his shoulder. Minho could smell the familiar gardenia scent you wore for years and it immediately brought comfort to his panicking soul. Somehow your presence always calmed him down, no matter what stressful situation he was in. Maybe that’s why he wanted to have you around 24/7. How selfish of him.

Your couple minutes of silence were so agonizing that his nervous foot-tapping habit he told you about that he thought he got rid of in college broke through, which was your cue to answer.

“I like it. I like it a lot, actually,” you admitted honestly. “I would definitely feel safe if I saw you come to my rescue, although the helmet is a little concerning.”

“Concerning how?”

“Well, it has such a… A, uh… How do I put this politely? A dead expression?”

“‘Dead’ is a polite adjective to you?”

“I mean come on, Mr. Lee, there are two eyes and a flat line for the mouth where the corners curve downwards just slightly and it looks like you gave him little fangs. There’s not much life in the eyes, either.”

“They light up when the suit is on!”

“Maybe I’ll like it more when I see it in person?”

“The helmet is the only thing I’m confident about, so nothing and no one can change my mind,” he said stubbornly.

“I’m sure everyone will love it,” you reassured while smoothing out the stress wrinkles on his indigo shoulder pads. “When do you plan on starting the build?”

“In half an hour.”

“What!?” Minho nearly spit out his espresso at your yelping and the frantic way you sifted through your massive planner and scrolling through your emails on your phone at the same time. Oh, so that’s what he forgot to tell you! He knew something felt off. “B-B-But I didn’t get an email that the shipment arrived!”

“I called the company at five in the morning just as they opened and demanded an expedited shipping of all the materials and they’ll be arriving in half an hour.”

“But did the quality department approve of the materials? Or your design at least?”

“You do know I’m the CEO, right?” Minho smirked teasingly. “That’s business talk for ‘fuck Quality’.”

Minho stood up from his black velvet Chesterfield chair to escape your nagging and briskly walked away towards God-knows-where. Like an obedient, push-over puppy, you trailed closely behind with a light jog and all you could think about was how it was too early for your feet to be aching this badly.

“I don’t like the idea of this,” you said firmly.

“You never do. Loosen up a little, will ya?”

“I will not! I looked the other way when you decided on signing a contract to collaborate with that ugly luxury car brand, I agreed with the proposal of a new smartphone that totally flopped in the end, and I barely allowed the approval for the development of the new branch in Taiwan! All of those ideas are whatever, arbitrary even, but this? This puts you at the front line of danger, Mr. Lee! What if something goes wrong, or the material is compromised? What if these companies take you for a fool for not checking in with the quality department first? What if you’re setting yourself up to be sabotaged, huh?”

Minho pressed the down button on the elevator, ignoring your pleas. Even though all you do is nag and play by the rules, he knew you were only doing so because he didn’t bother to. In the end, you were just looking out for him, and he couldn’t appreciate you more.

His gives you what he thought was a reassuring smile. To you, it looked rather mischievous “Lucky for me that you’ll be there the whole time, right?”’

“What do you mean…?”

“I mean you’ll watch the entire suit being built while you work. Then you’ll see how safe it is. I need someone to double check me, anyways.”

“Mr. Lee, I don’t think I’m qualified for that.”

“Don’t be silly, of course you are!”

Your engineering experience went as far as Physics I and II classes with a teaspoon’s worth in basic circuitry, so if Minho thought that qualified you to double check his work, then you might have to question his PhD degree.

The elevator welcomed you both into its vacant container. The lowest level this elevator could reach with a single button was the basement, but if the right person (or the wrong person) were to dial the buttons in the order of 4-4-1-9, they would be taken nine floors below the basement to the rumored ‘Super Office’ (ten was too much because Minho didn’t like the feel of the heavy pressure and eight was such a silly number).

The steel doors opened right into his Super Office which he designed to be five times larger than his executive office so he had plenty of room for building up new car designs and bringing his super suits to life for both him and his partners. His successful designs that were once worn but are now retired were placed on mannequins and stored inside a tall glass box on display for him to admire.

You walked up to your favorite one, eyes sparkled adoringly at Seungmin’s first Spider-Man suit.

“You always loved the red and blue,” Minho noted behind you. “Still not a fan of the black one?”

“The black one is scary! No one wants a hero dressed in all black, like that color does not exude the feeling of safe.”

“Duly noted for his next suit.”

Beside Seungmin’s old spidey suit was an empty display case you assumed was meant for this final draft of Minho’s Iron Man suit. Surrounding the two glass cases were dozens and dozens of wood and plastic demos that didn’t work out in the end, but Minho didn’t have the heart to take them to the dumpster.

“Looks like the shipment arrived early!” Your mature but easy-going boss jogged up to the piles of wooden crates and packages that were laid out neatly in the center of his work space. Without much patience, he took off his indigo suit jacket, tossed it to the side like it wasn’t worth two thousand dollars (to which you caught before it hit the ground), and took the crowbar on top of the pile to open the cases with ease. Sheets of metals, different tools, and a cool welding and soldering set scattered along the concrete floor. Minho gave you an excited grin that mimicked a child upon opening gifts on Christmas. “Let the building commence!”

There wasn’t room for any argument, so you took a seat at his desk where he normally would sketch the designs and worked off of his desktop with a heavy feeling of defeat. At least watching the process would be cool, right?

Maybe cool wasn’t the right word. Or watching.

For the next three months, from sunrise to sunset, you spent your day nine floors below the surface for almost twelve hours a day being his little helper. From holding pieces of metal in place while he flame torched them together to feeding him take out because his hands were covered in oil, you did it all and God, if Minho didn’t give you a raise or at least some meal tickets to the executive cafeteria, you might just quit on the spot.

“Done.” With a heavy and exhausted sigh, Minho clapped his hands together and marveled at his nearly-finished product. “We’re done!!”

“What about the red and gold paint?”

“I can’t work on this anymore or I’ll implode. I’ll just take this to my car guy and he’ll paint it exactly how I want it.”

“Not really a self-made suit then, is it?” you dared to challenge your boss.

He pointed an accusing finger at you. “Shut your mouth and give me my food.”

You handed a slouching Minho his box of take-out and wooden chopsticks. While you had a perfectly comfortable ottoman he could have sat on right next to you, he remained on the cold concrete, probably too sore and worn out to even stand up, let alone walk to a cushioned seat. Minho was a man with personality and many faces, but his face of satisfactory upon completing projects was when he was the most handsome. For a while, you two just sat in silence, taking in every detail of the flawless iron suit while slurping noodles.

“So,” Minho began nervously. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful, Mr. Lee,” you say immediately.

“You mean it?”

For someone so intelligent and talented, it was a wonder how a man like him could be insecure about any of his creations.

“Absolutely,” you reassured. “Flawless. Is it fully programmed and everything?”

“Yup. I installed the software and artificial intelligence last week.”

“Sounds like the only thing you need to do is take it out for a spin.”

Minho hummed with approval. “... Can you do it for me?”

“What!? No!”

“I really don’t want to do it…”

“With all due respect, suck it up.”

“Isn’t it reasons like this why I hired you?”

“I was hired to be your secretary, not your lab rat.”

“To be fair, the job description was pretty vague.”

“Yeah, I definitely did not expect to be helping you construct a modern Knight in Shining Armor cosplay.” After wiping your mouth clean of all MSG and soy sauce, you tossed your dirty napkin in the trash bin that was a considerable distance away.

Minho followed suit, who was also able to get his napkin in the can. Then you tossed another napkin, and then him, and this went on until you were left to toss your boxes and chopsticks. The real challenge was tossing the plastic wraps of the fortune cookies.

“Whoever loses has to do whatever the other says,” Minho proposed.

Without hesitation, you nodded in agreement. “Fine, but I will not test that thing out if I lose.”

“Deal. Secretaries first.”

You did your best to crumple up and squish out any air that was left in the wrapped before whipping it like you were throwing the first pitch. The wrapper hit the rim of the can and fell to the side. But that’s ok, because there was no way your boss could even come close to -

“WOO!” Minho cheered, getting up from the floor while you were left slumped in the chair filled with defeat. Of course, whatever he wanted, he would get his way. “Man, I am super lucky today.”

“What the hell! Did you wrap it around a stone or something!?”

“Darling, I would never cheat ~”

“There’s no use in arguing. Just lay the consequences on me, boss.”

Minho scooted the ottoman closer - almost a little too close. Then, like a handsome little goldendoodle with his swooshy chocolate hair and sparkling eyes, he gazed up at you pleadingly before offering you your punishment.

Fear and flattery tickled your spine. “Spit it out.”

A grin followed. “You will accompany me to the ball next week.”

“The Children’s Charity Ball? The biggest charity ball of the century? The one where all the white-haired big shots attend with their dates who just barely turned eighteen?”

“The very same.”

“And you want me to be your date.”

“Yes.”

“Seems a bit lazy, doesn’t it?”

“Lazy how!?”

Not wanting him to see you blush, you began cleaning up the mess from the takeout. “Lazy as in why not find a real date? You know, someone you’ll have a good time with.”

“Hey, I always have a good time with you! And I’m doing you a favor if you think about it. If I wanted to bring anyone else, that would mean you’d have to flip through all of my contacts and have you choose the perfect date for me. So unless you want the extra overtime, I’ll expect to see you dressed to the nines?”

“Don’t you want to bring someone more suited for this role? Someone with much more finesse and elegance?” you said as you twirled dirty napkins in the air.

“If I’m being honest, I do not have the time nor do I want to put in the effort into bringing someone so bland.”

“Who says they’re bland? What if I pick out one of your supermodel friends or like a professor, or something?”

“All my supermodel friends like to toke up in bathrooms and what’s a professor going to do? Lecture me to death? _____, please, I am begging you - be my date? You know you and I are going to have a blast, I promise you. We always do when we’re together.”

A moment of silence passed while you shuddered in disgust. You couldn’t believe you were going to say this, but… “So what should I wear?”

“Yes! That’s the spirit! Wear anything besides velvet because that’s my fabric of choice.”

“Can you at least do the picking for me? We should at least match in the slightest.”

Minho let out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, fine, I’ll do all the work.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, Mr. Lee.”

“It’s what I do best.”

After cleaning up the mess and a last quick polish on the Iron suit, the two of you took the elevator to the level below the basement where Minho parked his favorite fancy shmancy foreign sports car you couldn’t pronounce. In its shiny and spotless all-white glory sat his coup in his executive parking spot where no other car or person was in sight.

“Quite showy for you, isn’t it?” you accused your normally toned-down boss.

“I had a hunch that today was going to be the day we finished, and low and behold, we did. Soojung the Spyder always brings me good luck,” he patted and praised his prized roadster.

The distance from the office to your apartment was a solid forty-five minutes away by public transportation, right on the edge of being not too far, but not close enough, but by car it was only twenty-five minutes. During your first couple of years with the company, you enjoyed the lonely rides and getting lost with your thoughts, but there were moments you got so lost that you missed your stop a couple too many times and sometimes the winter made waiting outside so unbearable. It wasn’t until you started to clock in tons of overtime that Minho was nice enough to drive you home from then on.

“C’mon, _____, just get in the car,” Minho begged for the twelfth time, holding the passenger door open with one hand and an umbrella with the other. He parked his car illegally right in front of the bus stop that so many other employees used. Why did it matter that you were using it while it was thunderstorming and past 10:00 PM? “The heat is escaping the longer we argue.”

“It’s fine! I don’t live too far away,” you lied. “Please go home, Mr. Lee, your puppy must be worried sick.”

“Hazelnut can wait, but I can’t. As your boss, I order you to get in my car!” Though the statement was serious with his booming voice, his pouty lips made it much less intimidating.

“With all due respect, I have clocked out for the day and I don’t have to listen to you until 7:00 am tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me break the law.”

“What do you mean?”

The blinding lights of the bus flashed irregularly, a polite way of telling Minho to get the fuck out of the way. But he didn’t move in the slightest. He patiently waited for you by the passenger door, not moving a muscle and looking like a car model dressed in his long, warm and tan pea coat. The patient and smug look on his face let you know he wasn’t playing around and that he’d dare tell the bus to wait until you got in.

“Mr. Lee, get out of the way!”

“Not until you’re in my car,” he shook his head stubbornly. “The bus is getting closer ~”

Your anxiousness hiked up exponentially when the driver held the horn long and loudly, not looking like they had much patience in them and indicating that they were very, very annoyed. For the sake of not inconveniencing the butt-load of passengers and the driver and securing your job, you hurried into his car, cursing up a storm that rivaled the one outside. A triumphant and smirking Minho followed suit and sped away at a dangerous speed, perhaps breaking a second law that night. For those twenty-five minutes (or maybe it was fifteen with Minho’s driving), the car was silent because your reckless boss focused on cutting every civilian off on the highway and you were too busy covering your eyes in fear.

“You were so dramatic back then,” Minho snickered at the seemingly-harmless memory.

“Me!? You were the one who parked in front of a bus stop and begged me to get in!”

“You were the one who wouldn’t get in the damn car!”

“How does it look to on-lookers that a secretary is getting into her boss’s car!?”

“It’s not like anyone knows our relationship.”

“Oh please, someone like you driving a beautiful shiny car picking up sad ol’ me at the bus stop - of course on-lookers may not know me and my relationship to you, but they definitely know who you are at the very least.”

“I could not give more than zero fucks of what people think.”

“Yes, that much is clear.”

“_____, you can’t always worry about what everyone thinks ~”

You sighed loudly, as if you’d explained this to him a thousand times already. “Worrying is the basis of my entire title, Mr. Lee.”

“And will you drop the ‘Mr. Lee’ once and for all? We’re the same age!”

“Same age, but different titles and a massive pay gap. You and I are not equals.”

Minho reached over to mess up your hair. “You’re so formal, it’s so cute!”

“Ah, stop it! You’re swerving!!”

Minho had dropped you off and walked you up to your apartment more times than you can count, but you don’t think you’ll ever get over the embarrassment of your humble abode. Of course you’ve visited his mansion just as many times, since you participated in the designing of it, and him having to see such a sad home in comparison is, well, terrifying each and every time.

“Ok, bye,” you dismissed quickly.

A handsome laugh escaped your handsome boss’s lips. “Still hate having me so close to your home? You know, it’s quite rude you’ve never invited me in and yet you’ve been in mine hundreds of times!”

“My home doesn’t have marble statues or glass refrigerators and I can’t hire you to redesign the interior.”

“You know I don’t care about that stuff.”

“But I do!”

His tongue tisked disappointedly. “What a shame. I thought we were friends.”

“We are, but friends don’t break sensitive boundaries.”

He passively waved you off. “Fine, fine. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early.”

“Excellent. I have one request.”

It was your turn to pout. What could he possibly want this time? “Already? At least let me sleep peacefully.”

“It’s nothing complicated, I promise! In fact, it’ll save you thirty minutes. Don’t bring me my coffee tomorrow.”

“Don’t? Are you on a caffeine cleanse again? You know how badly that went last time - you barely lasted two days and you fired someone, to which I had to convince you for forty minutes to hire them back.”

“No, not a cleanse. Just come in a bit earlier. Let’s get coffee together.”

“Do you have time for that?” Knowing how packed Minho’s schedule was in the mornings, you wondered his sanity for making time just so the two of you could grab a cup.

“I’ll make time. Actually, you’ll make time. Can you pencil us in for some coffee?”

“U-Uh, yeah!” With nervous and shaky hands, you pulled out your work phone and squeezed in half an hour of coffee time. “Done.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Don’t be reckless driving home.”

“No promises.”

Before going into your apartment complex, you watched Minho wave goodbye before blasting music with a deep bass and speeding off, leaving a smokey trail from burning rubber.

“I hate him,” you smiled to yourself.

“I hate him,” you said to yourself upon walking into Minho’s office.

Like an artificially intelligent robot that didn’t know of its purpose, Minho dressed in his Iron suit walked around his office doing regular office things, like dusting the blinds and tidying up loose papers on his desk. It was a little difficult to do smaller tasks with his stiff and massive iron hands, so you’re not entirely sure what your boss was doing.

“G’morning!” he greeted cheerfully. “Just taking this baby out on a test drive.”

You had just noticed the paint job was completed on the suit which meant that it was good to go. However, you didn’t think this was the ideal way to ‘test drive’ a superhero suit.

“Good morning, Mr. Lee. Is this really the right way to test drive?”

“I got too excited when my car guy told me it was done. He did it so quickly and precisely, too. Look, he even engraved it with my signature! She’s a beauty, isn’t she?”

“Yes, very shiny. The gold and red are much prettier than I imagined.”

“Right!? Not too Gryffindor-y, is it?”

“Not at all,” you said sincerely. “Do you want to get coffee now? We should hurry, you have a conference call at 8:00.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Minho followed you to the door with a trail of heavy iron steps. You turned around quickly and gave him an incredulous look, one he’s seen much too often. “I don’t want coffee anymore.”

“Why not!?”

“I’m not going out in public with you wearing that thing! You look ridiculous!”

“That’s so rude of you to say about my pride and joy! This also took me thirty minutes to put on!”

“Mr. Lee, we’re just getting coffee!”

“You are not fun at all.”

It took only five minutes to get your boss stumbling out of the suit because the button for the release was hidden under a metal panel on his wrist, but at least it was painless.

“I thought you didn’t want to reveal Iron Man until you tested it and got your seal of approval?” you asked the child-like man.

“That’s still the plan, but I’m just so excited! I think we should test it tonight.”

“Tonight? Already?”

“Yup, and I need you here with me in case I die, or something.”

“And to think I was gonna relax and take a bubble bath tonight.”

“It won’t take long, I promise.”

“I’ll believe it when I drop my bath bomb in my tub.”

In your whole time working here, you’ve spent more time together with Minho at both the office and at his home than working alone. The ratio was about seventy-five percent at the office, fifteen percent at his home, and ten percent miscellaneous, like going to business lunches or simple walks to the coffee shop like today. The long work hours were brutal on your feet and your social life, but the money was way too good to pass. You swore you broke the world record for ‘quickest payment of student debt’ with your hard work.

To anyone else, your job sounded so unappealing that no amount of money could ever convince them to do what you’re doing. ‘So brave’, they tell you, but it’s not that you’re brave, it’s that you’re loyal and as much as you hate to say it, you had the best boss. Yes, he’s a little goofy and yes, maybe a bit naive because he’s so young, but he treated you like you’re his equal and not someone so beneath him who takes all of his notes and takes his laundry to be dry cleaned. Plus when he compensated for your time so handsomely, how could you hate your job? Every day was new and exciting when you were with Minho.

The day went along as normal, from conference calls to lunch and finishing the day with an interview with the press. The very second everyone clocked out at 5:00 pm, you followed a speedy boss to wherever he led you.

“Are we going to test it out now?”

“No, silly, it’s still too bright out! We have to test it once the sun sets.”

You knew that sounded too good to be true. You held a light jog in order to keep up with him. “Where are we going then?”

He turned and gave you a suspicious grin. “Shopping!”

“For what!?”

“You and I need matching outfits for the charity ball, remember?”

“You know, I was just kidding when I said that… We don’t have to match…” The last thing you want is for someone to mistake you as your boss’s date instead of his secretary, but to be fair you don’t know many guests going that bring anyone that isn’t a date, so you kind of shot yourself in the foot when you didn’t make that shot into the trash bin.

“We are matching and I am not arguing with you.”

A defeated sigh escaped your lips before entering the backseat of Minho’s car where his driver would take us anywhere he pleased. He told him a cross section that sounded familiar, but not enough for you to guess where you’re going, so from here on out until you were home taking a hot bath, the rest of today would be a surprise.

The car stopped in front of a glossy black DIOR building. You expected nothing less from Minho.

“You would pick Dior,” you scoffed, completely amazed at how someone so rich could have so much brand loyalty to one company.

“Hey, they are consistent and beautifully crafted, don’t judge me.”

“Mr. Lee and Lovely _____!” An older, graceful lady came running to greet both of you with a warm smile dressed in a hot red shade of lipstick. You recognized her voice to be the owner from all the times you called to ask about any pieces Minho could reserve before they hit the runway and were snatched up by the ‘I Have Daddy’s Credit Card and Inheritance’ private-school boys. This was your first time seeing her in person and her calming voice matched her mature appearance perfectly. “This piece has been waiting for you ~”

“I can’t wait, Auntie,” he smiled back graciously like an obedient nephew rewarded with cookies.

She led the two of you to the very back where the private dressing and tailoring area was, where the mirrors went from the floor to the ceiling. The store owner walked in with Minho’s fabric of choice, a velvet jacket with crisp black pants and a white button-up that had the slightest sheen of silver from metallic strands woven into the shirt fabric. In the shadows, one would think the velvet was black, but in the light or at certain angles, there was the slightest sheen to it that showed the darkest shades of indigo and green, like an oil slick. You couldn’t believe the amount of detail in the velvet that your eyes looked like they were popping out of your sockets.

Your boss was so eager to try it on that he was taking off his pants before you were warned. Quickly you turned around and shut your eyes, pretending that you didn’t see his KakaoTalk-patterned boxer briefs.

“M-M-Mr. Lee! At least warn me if you’re going to strip!!”

“Sorry ~” he apologized unapologetically.

A couple of zips and rustling of fabrics later, Minho tapped your shoulder to turn around. Your eyes bulged out of their sockets again while looking at your boss dressed in a suit that was clearly made for him and him only. It didn’t look like any tailoring was needed at all! He looked like he walked right off the runway. There had to be some enchantment spell in the fabric because you swear you’ve never seen any man more handsome before this moment.

“I take it you like it?” Minho teased.

Your cheeks tickled with red when he caught you staring. “You look amazing as usual, Mr. Lee.”

“You think so?” You knew so. “It’s not too flashy, is it?”

“Not at all. I think you have the perfect amount of flash. How does it feel?”

“Like a glove. It’s already perfectly tailored!”

“I know your measurements by heart, my dear,” Auntie bragged. “Of course I had it ready to go already.”

“You’re the best.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek and a tight hug. “What would I be without you?”

“Not GQ’s best dressed man under thirty, that’s for sure.”

“Could you do me another favor? Do you perhaps have something for _____ to match? We have a charity ball next weekend.”

“Mr. Lee, this is really unnecessary -”

“I know exactly what to pull.”

Before you could object, Auntie ran to the back of the store where all the hidden inventory was held. You glared at your cheeky boss, still dressed in his sexy outfit and it was hard to keep your glare when he looked so damn good, that handsome bastard.

“I’m not wearing whatever she brings out.”

“You will and you’ll look great and we will buy it, so don’t embarrass me.”

“Embarrass you!? I am not your doll!”

“I’ve got it!”

Both you and Minho whipped your heads to see Auntie running in with a blacker than black satin and silky outfit that was simple but elegant. Nervous goosebumps spread through your arms and straight to your wallet. You already knew this was going to be the most expensive outfit you’ve ever worn.

“It’s beautiful,” you gasped so slightly.

“Try it on!”

Minho followed Auntie out of the dressing room but not before shooting you a triumphant wink. I mean, who were you to deny your boss and the store owner, right? So with ease, you put on the cooling fabric that clung to your body in all the right spots. The mirror did all justice and perhaps it was a magical mirror that Dior spent millions on to convince their customers to buy everything because damn, you look hot! With your face as red as Minho’s Corvette, you presented the outfit to the two judges.

“Oh, it fits perfectly!” Auntie gushed with wide eyes.

Minho stayed silent with his mouth ajar and eyes scanning you up and down like you were a precious gem discovered in a deep cave beyond a waterfall. It was hard to differentiate between feeling flattered and feeling like object, but at least you were a desired object, right?

“You look amazing,” Minho admitted sincerely, no longer looking at you with awe and rather content.

“Really? I look ok?”

His handsome smile shined brightly at you. Whether you were dressed in your formal work clothes that screamed ‘absolute virgin’ or you were head-to-toe in Dior, you were never just ‘ok’. You always had the attention of everyone in the room once you walked in, especially his. You were always stunning, no matter what. Validation from your boss always came easy and calmed you quickly because he only had eyes for you.

“You look just fine,” he lied, because ‘fine’ didn’t come close to how you looked to him.

“We’ll be the best dressed at the ball, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

The car ride home was quiet other than the trot music playing on the radio from the driver’s playlist. Minho seemed as cool as a cucumber, but you were at the edge of your seat feeling a bit awkward and ugh, unintentionally sweaty. Compliments from any man was one thing, but coming from your boss? A whole different level of weird, especially if they weren’t work related! What did ‘you look just fine’ even mean!? Was that a good thing? Were you too average-looking? Whatever it was, from now until you fall asleep at ungodly hours, those words were going to circulate your thoughts, perhaps haunt you for days.

At exactly 7:03 pm, just as the sun set below the horizon revealing the indigo night sky, the driver pulled up to the back entrance of the building that led to a secret elevator that would take you straight to the underground office after punching in the code. A giggling and grinning Minho was the first to hop out of the car and ran towards the door.

“Mr. Lee, hold on!” you whined as you struggled to get out of the tall car.

“Hurry up, _____! Now’s the perfect time to earn that OT!”

“This time-and-a-half pay better be worth it…”

Upon entering the elevator, you were ready to punch in the 4419 code, but Minho had already pressed the button to the top level, which led to the roof slash helipad.

“Why are we going up?”

“We can’t test the suit inside, silly. Seungmin came by earlier to pick up his suit after I recalibrated it last night and I asked him to take the suit to the roof.”

“How, that thing weighs like a ton!”

“Not when you’re wearing it.”

“You let him wear it before you test drove it!? Mr. Lee, that’s extremely reckless!”

“Relax, I trusted he wouldn’t mess anything up, and look! It’s right there!”

The glass elevator made a slow stop to reveal the red and gold suit standing proudly in the center of the helipad. As soon as the doors panned open, Minho handed you his suitcase before running out and tossing his blazer onto the floor before hastily stepping into the suit.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, running back to your frazzled state. He took the leather suitcase from your hands and popped it open so he could give you a glass tablet. “This is for you.”

You looked at the shiny slab of glass with wonder. “What is it?”

“It’s like a control center. You’ll see what I see in terms of my stats and where I am in the city. If anything goes wrong, like say the jets give out, I need you to send a command to manually turn on the back-ups.”

“And what code is that?”

“Not important, we’ll study those later.”

“Later!? What if something happens tonight!?”

“Nothing will happen I promise, I’ll see you in a bit ~!” his cheering faded away the further he ran from you and to his beloved suit.

There was no use in fighting your boss, so you did as you were told and touched the tablet to reveal the control panel. It was black for a few moments before the screen showed your tiny self off in the distance looking down at the tablet which meant that Minho was able to put on and turn on the suit super quickly without any problems.

“What do you see?” he asked you through the speakers of the tablet from his built-in microphone in the helmet.

“I see me in the distance, the battery level of the suit, and all other weird liquids and commodities at one hundred percent.”

“Perfect!”

You turned to look at your boss who was stretching and feeling out the suit as if this wasn’t his 50th time wearing it. Still, he looked so excited and proud of his hard work, it was hard to tease him about how childish he was, even if he was trying out his yoga poses he just learned.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels incredible! Totally indescribable now that I’m out in the open. And it’s surprisingly lightweight.”

“How were you able to make it feel light with all that metal?”

“I don’t know, if I’m being honest…”

You rolled your eyes. “The work of a genius, huh?”

“You’ve got that right. Are we ready to take off?”

“I believe so. Are you ready to take off?”

“More than I’ll ever be, baby!!”

Before you knew it, you saw the camera’s view on the screen wobble and turn towards the edge of the building. Terrified, you saw your child-like boss get a running start before he dove off the edge and into the sea of the city.

In a panic, you ran and took a peak over the edge, hoping the jets or whatever kept the suit flying would operate properly and leave you without any worries. At first, Minho was but a dark red speck falling beneath the shadows, but a second later, he came flying up at lighting speed doing tricks and flips with ease and whooping loudly, as any normal CEO of a software company slash wannabe superhero would do. You could hear him giggling through your tablet, and like a spectator watching the most spectacular aerial performance, you watched him with a smile on your lips.

After his solo, he glided back down to you and hovered beyond the edge just at your eye level. You couldn’t see any features behind the glass of his eyes so you were left awkwardly staring at his expressionless helmet with those signature weird fangs. After all you and Minho have been through together, even with an idea like this being so ridiculously obscure, he could always rely on you to support him no matter what. He saw how your eyes sparkled with wonderment and how your cheeks dusted a soft pink and it was then that he knew you would stay by his side for even more ridiculous shenanigans to come.

He would never let you leave, anyways. Even in another lifetime, he’d have you by his side forever.

“How cool do I look right now?” he asked. His voice sounded deeper and electronic through the helmet, like he was a robot or had his voice programmed through a phone like Siri. You imagined an idea like that was how Minho planned on becoming immortal one day.

You raised a brow. “You look kind of… scary?”

“Scary!? Why?”

“I don’t know, if I saw a flying robot come at me at rocket speed, I think I’d be terrified!”

“Well, if I come to your rescue, at least you’ll know it’s me.”

“I suppose. So what are you going to do now? Throw a reveal event? Press conference, perhaps?”

“That, or wait for a Demon-Level threat to pass through our city. I don’t know, whichever comes first.” Minho shrugged nonchalantly. “Wanna see something cool?”

Before you could agree, Minho held his palm to the sky before a neon blue blast shot out of it, disappearing into God-knows-where. You could feel the heat from the beam of light radiated around you and fear sparked inside your chest.

“What the hell was that!?” you exclaimed.

“Isn’t that so cool!? Gonna hit some suckers and fry them up like bacon!” Your boss blindly shot another beam of light into the sky and you prayed to someone out there that no planes would disintegrate in the process.

“Hey, careful! What if you hit a satellite or something!” In the process of grabbing Minho’s iron hand so he’d stop being so reckless, you burned yourself upon touching the hot metal opening like a total dumb ass and yanked your hand back. “Ah!!”

“Oh, shit.”

Quickly and haphazardly, Minho landed back on the helipad and climbed out of the iron suit. In the process of running back to your aid, he untied his black silk necktie to use as a temporary band aid on your scalding palm. Gingerly, his cold hands took yours and ran a thumb over the scarring semicircle.

“Ah ah ah stop!!” you cried with tears of pain and embarrassment streaming down your cheeks.

“Sorry! Here,” Minho wrapped his tie around your palm and tied it tightly. The pure silk felt cooling against the burn and soon your tears stopped and you couldn’t do anything else besides sniffle. “Let’s go back inside. My office has a first aid kit.”

Your mumbling and cursing boss led you back to his office with urgency, blaming himself for being so stupid and recklessly playing with what could be considered a weapon of mass destruction. And now his favorite person, the one person who believed in his iron suit, was hurt in the process, pouting cutely and holding your burned hand like you were an injured puppy. This was one of his greatest fears upon completing this project.

You sat on his sapphire blue velvet couch with the bronze-gilded frame that looked like it belonged in the Ravenclaw common room trying to alleviate the pain of the burn in Minho’s ice bucket (for his white wine, of course) while he shifted through his drawers to find the first aid kit you gave him a couple years ago.

“Do you remember when you got this for me?” he asked as soon as he pulled it out from the bottom drawer. You shook your head, too lightheaded and in too much pain to remember. He sat next to you and began to tell the old story while patching you up. “It was your third year working here, but my first day as CEO when I took over for my Dad. I got so many paper cuts from all the paperwork I had to read and sign and I got a massive headache afterwards and I just wanted to eat something because all I had that day was an iced americano. It was so late and by the time I was finished, it was maybe 7:00pm -”

“8:00 pm,” you corrected in between sniffles.

“Ah, so you do remember! At 8:00pm, you waltzed into my office wearing your comfiest clothes with a bag of take-out in one hand and the first aid kit with a million bandaids and Tylenol in the other. That night, you sat in my office and helped patch up my fingers, fed me lo mein, and helped me with the rest of the paperwork for two hours. I thought of you as my guardian angel since that day and vowed to myself that no matter what, you and I would stick by each other’s side and be the dynamic duo that we are forever. Oh, how the tables have turned tonight. Now I’m the one patching you up.”

Minho had finished wrapping your palm at the end of his story. Something about his proclamation didn’t sit right with you. Something about staying here forever, clocking in massive amounts of overtime and being subservient to the same men sounded like your own personal hell.

“I can’t be your secretary forever, Mr. Lee.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But I don’t have to think about that for quite some time, right?”

“Maybe.”

“I hate change, you know.”

“I, more than anyone else, know that.”

Your handsome boss chuckled lightly at the heavy subject. His curly coffe hair covered his eyes as he looked down at your hand and traced small shapes on the bandaid. You knew that he knew you didn’t want to stay here forever, and he couldn’t blame you, but it didn’t make the thought of you leaving any less heartbreaking.

“Does it feel any better?”

“Much better,” you said truthfully as the cooling gel felt like a magical potion.

“This first aid kit is the only practical gift I’ve ever received. All others are for the aesthetic.”

“Do you prefer practical gifts, Mr. Lee?”

“Of course! The fuck am I going to do with a VVS diamond-encrusted chain?”

“Flex on all the other young CEOs?”

“And partake in their pissing contest? No, thank you.”

“You’re telling me you won’t be doing that this weekend at the Charity Ball?”

“When I have you next to me, I don’t need VVS diamonds,” Minho grinned flirtatiously.

You hit his arm with your good hand and he flinched upon his correct prediction. “I am not an accessory!”

“Of course not! You are my beloved intelligent sidekick that all other big wigs tell me they wished they had! But when you look like that, it’s bonus points ~”

“Ugh, your kind are all the same!” you scoffed, trying to collect your things and storm out the door.

“It’s a compliment!” he teased. Minho managed to chase after you and grab your things to carry to his car so he could drive you home for the 1106th time.

After a long and tiring rest of the week helping your boss do target practicing with the iron suit on, Saturday had arrived and now you had the honor of accompanying said-boss to a Big Dick contest disguised as a Charity Ball. The main event was for the sake of the children of course, but the real show was to see who was wearing what designer with what accessories and who pulled up in the fanciest sports car with the youngest and sexiest date in their arms. You were so, so lucky to be working for someone who liked to stay low key, despite always being the center of attention.

“Why are you so nervous?” Minho teased, nudging your arm as you both walked up to the front doors of the venue. “This isn’t the first time you’ve played as my date.”

“I know, but it doesn’t get any easier,” you admitted, shyly covering yourself from the much-more revealing outfit now that it was tailored to fit.

“You and I look fine! Muted colors, minimal diamonds, low key attitudes - we’re perfect! No one will even notice we’re here.”

That was a complete lie, because the second you walked in, a swarm of gossip columnists and magazine writers circled around the two of you, bombarding you both with the same questions you were so used to.

“Mr. Lee, who are you wearing?”

“Mr. Lee, who’s your lovely date?”

“Mr. Lee, what’s the best way to lock in that your date will go home with you?”

Minho raised his hand slightly and all that could be heard were the cameras clicking. God, the power he has…

“Dior, a close friend, and be so irresistible that they can’t say no.”

Without another word, he gently took your bandaged hand and led you out of the circle of gossipers who were silent in awe. With your free hand, you covered up your ugly laughing.

“You’re such a cornball!” you said in between a fit of giggles.

“An irresistible cornball, at least. Now, walk me through all these people again?”

Minho was young and when it came to networking, he still had the mentality of being the CEO’s son rather than the CEO. That meant that Minho didn’t care much in remembering other CEO’s names and relied on you to remind him of all the people he should have remembered three years ago. It was a consistent hour of introductions and small talk about future goals, collaborations, and golfing, all of which you were able to expertly tune out while sipping prosecco and snacking on caviar tarts. Years of experience thankfully made these events easier.

“Did you practice your speech for your donation?” you reminded Minho after taking a seat at the prestigious Table 2. Since the company was one of the Charity Ball’s biggest sponsors, the CEOs were always invited to say some manufactured speech.

“Yeah. I even practiced it in the shower. Hopefully I get the charity organization correct this time.”

“It’s amazing how you even got this far.”

The Charity Ball should have been named See Who Can Donate the Most Money Ball because every speech given by a CEO of some company tried to out-do each other. Luckily, your company’s speeches were always last and your touch of humanity written on paper always had the audience in awe with the Minho’s compassion. To pass the time, you and Minho played rock-paper-scissors and whomever lost had to drink champagne. Let’s just say Minho ended up having the infamous Asian Glow.

His face was still blushy by the time it was his turn and you almost felt bad because the pictures with the flash turned on probably wouldn’t be so flattering in the magazines, but that wouldn’t matter because he still looks like the most stunning man in the room. All eyes were on him as he made his speech, but he had his eyes on you. Probably because he would piss his pants if he saw how many people were looking at him. You gave him two thumbs up for encouragement.

“It is the greatest honor to be here and giving a speech for the third year in a row. Children are the source and future for a better world, and it is our duty to -”

You blanked out for most of it since you wrote it. It was hard to focus anyways when his eyes were so piercing, so you averted his gaze and counted the number of peppercorns on his unfinished steak. At an alarming fifty-three, you glanced around the gallery to see if anyone was actually paying attention. Many, if not all, of the guests around your age were paying attention with dreamy eyes and pouty lips, all wishing they were in your position tonight. Some even dared to make eye contact with you as if to say, ‘how DARE you NOT pay attention to the sexiest man alive!?’ The older, more powerful guests seemed genuinely interested in the amount Minho was donating and the older dates seemed to care more about their reflection on the back of a spoon.

The fattest check with a bunch of zeros was walked onto the stage. A standing ovation was in order of course, and you conformed with the crowd, even though applause always made Minho visibly uncomfortable.

“He throws a big, fat check to charity and yet he still doesn’t like the attention, huh?”

As the clapping died down and the noise faded into the smooth hum of the live piano and jazz music, you turned to face the owner of a familiar sly voice. The man that stood before you was the famous doctor slash art collector slash playboy who you’ve come to know after attending all of these flashy events.

You smiled slyly at the man. “If it isn’t GQ’s Bachelor of the Month, Dr. Park Seonghwa.”

The raven-haired man gave you his signature smirk. Then he took your hand and kissed it tenderly like the prince he is. “Lovely _____, pleasure to see you as always.”

“Have you been doing that to all the other guests you frequent at these events?”

“Of course not! Just the beautiful ones.”

You let out a loud scoff. “You and your way with words.”

“Are they enough to convince you to finally go out to dinner with me?”

“Not quite.”

Seonghwa sighed tiredly and dropped his head as if this was the first time you’ve rejected him. Guess every time felt like the first time. The handsome raven held his hand out to you. “If not dinner, how about a dance?”

Hesitantly, you searched for your boss like you were trying to sneak away from a parent. He was busy shaking hands and catching up with The Important People’s Club, so you didn’t think one dance would hurt, though once you feed a dog a treat, he’ll be begging for more forever.

You took his hand. “One dance.”

“Five.”

“One.”

“Three?”

“Dr. Park!”

“What!? Ok, fine, one dance, unless you’re really feeling it and then we’ll dance some more.”

“Maybe in another lifetime, Dr. Park.”

The young doctor led you to the dance floor before you could object further. For someone not-so-smooth with pick-up lines, he was definitely smooth with his moves. With one gentle hand on your waist and the other holding your hand, you two glide around the white tiles like the Royalty of the ball, and truly, for a few moments, it really felt like you were the star of this fairy tale.

Seonghwa let out a tired sigh. “Intelligent, beautiful, loyal, and good at dancing? How are you so good at everything?”

“Stop that.”

“I mean it! Yet no man swept you off your feet.”

“Just because I won’t say yes to you, doesn’t mean I’m not waiting for that special someone.”

Seonghwa held your hand up high and made you do a little twirl. “You might be waiting for a while, beautiful.”

“Why do you say that?”

“With Mr. Minho by your side twenty-five hours eight days a week, there is no man that has the courage to come in between such a strong relationship.”

“Even you?” you challenged.

“Even I. Unless you want me to -”

“Nope.”

“Ice cold heart as always…”

Song number one melted into song number two and it passed you both as you continued to discuss the hot topic of why you’re still single. It’s a conversation topic that you thought was reserved for nosy family members for you to brush off, but coming from another man who has begged for your number since you both met really put your love life into perspective. Perhaps you were too loyal to your boss…

While engulfed in the heated debate, Minho was desperately searching for his right hand where he thought you’d be - either at your seat or by the bar, but you were at neither. After receiving his order from the bar, he let the expensive gold liquid over ice flooded through his bloodstream, which led him to a group of gawking gossipers whining and gazing at the dance floor. What was all the hype about?

The sight of you in the arms of the world’s most arrogant doctor didn’t sit too well with him. The scene made him see green.

“You’re such a liar!” Minho heard you laugh aloud. “I did NOT give you so-called bedroom eyes at Yuta’s house warming!”

“You’re telling me you weren’t eyeing me up and down like a barbecued piece of pork belly dipped in sesame oil?”

“That’s because you had sesame oil on your white shirt!”

“Excuses, excuses.”

Minho took another sip of his golden drink before putting it down haphazardly and waltzing towards the dancing couple. To onlookers, this scene looked like it was straight out of those cheesy love triangle dramas. The gossipy gals wondered - would Minho punch Seonghwa? Would he grab your hand harshly and drag you away to scold you and tell you how much he cared about you? Would he kiss you!?

You saw your uncharacteristically stern-looking boss approaching, and even though you’re unsure of his intentions, you still smiled brightly, as you always did whenever you saw him. Minho lightened his heavy, angry steps. Even with another man by your side, you still looked at him. How could he be mad at you?

“Hello, Mr. Minho,” Seonghwa greeted, holding out a hand for him to shake. You knew your boss wasn’t the biggest fan of Seonghwa, but he politely returned the gesture anyways. Somehow you felt your heart beating in your throat - the tension on the dance floor was too high, too powerful, and you were but an awkward and nervous secretary standing on the side while two powerful men duked it out.

“Dr. Seonghwa, nice to see you again.” Minho was good at lying, but his lies never passed you. The amount of discomfort knitted in his eyebrows almost made you snicker. “Long nights at the hospital still?”

“As always, but at least it’s rewarding and enjoyable. How are your long nights at the office?”

“Can’t get enough of them, right, _____?”

“What? You’re still doing that much overtime?” Seonghwa asked worriedly. Now, was he worried because you were overworking yourself or was he worried because you were spending so much time with a man that wasn’t him?

You shrugged unapologetically. “I love that overtime pay.”

“_____, that’s not good for your health -”

“I tell them that all the time,” Minho interrupted defensively. He was always like this whenever anyone questioned the amount of work you had. To you, it was not much of a burden at all, but to anyone else, they couldn’t fathom your work hours but if they saw your paycheck, maybe they’d understand. Even your boss felt bad whenever your friends blamed him, but no matter how much he tried to convince you of a normal 40-hour work week, the duties of being his secretary never added up to just that. Therefore, your boss always felt the need to defend you and him for the sake of making sure you weren’t portrayed as his slave. “But you’re just so stubborn, aren’t you?”

“Only because it’s you, Mr. Lee,” you said like you’re reading a script. Somehow that doesn’t translate through the ears of the two powerful men in front of you, as your boss smiled triumphantly and Seonghwa couldn’t help but shake his head.

“If you ever want to take me up on that date, Lovely _____, you know who to call.” The most handsome man who’s ever flirted with you took your hand gently and planted a sweet, soft kiss that sent little tingles all up your arm. You don’t think you’ll ever reciprocate his feelings, but the feeling of being desired and wanted by a man really kicked up your ego and really made you think - when was the last time you ever liked someone, or someone ever liked you?

Park Seonghwa disappeared into the crowd and perhaps left the Charity Ball all together. Until next time.

Your boss turned to face you, whose stern face quickly melted into innocence as he knew what was coming by the look on your annoyed expression. “What?”

“What was that all about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You shook your head and mumbled under your breath, “Ugh, you are unbelievable, Mr. Lee.”

As you tried to escape, the desperate man caught your hand. “Wait, where are you going?”

“Away from you for just five minutes, can you let me do that?” you snapped in a hushed volume. “Or do you need to watch over me and speak on my behalf, since you’re my Father apparently!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to act like that.”

“You say that every time, especially when I’m talking to another man and even more-so when I’m talking to Dr. Park. When will your sorries mean something?”

“You know I get protective over you.”

“Again, you are not my Father!”

“I know, but -”

All of the attention that was once focused on the handsome CEO and his secretary shifted to the glass ceiling that was now shattered to pieces upon the force of some dozens of masked strangers dressed in all black. Minho instinctively, though harshly, forced you down so he could hover over you so none of the glass hit you. What followed seemed to be too numbing, as all of the stimuli in the banquet hall was too much to handle.

“Get down,” Minho instructed while pushing you under one of the tables. “Don’t move until I come back.”

“Wait, but where are you -”

“I’ll be back in ten minutes!”

“Mr. Lee!”

Of course, he didn’t listen, as Mr. Lee always did what he wanted, right? Which would normally annoy the fuck out of you, but who has the time to panic about what your boss was up to when you’re stranded under the table and shrouded by cheap table cloth linen?

Since those people had invaded and fallen from the sky, you noticed that no gunshots or any sort of violence outside of melee were heard. No purpose of the attack is even known yet, but the signs were promising, until the famous alarm was heard throughout the whole town.

“Threat level: Dragon. Please stay inside until all threats have been cleared. Threat level: Dragon. Please stay inside until -”

“Ah, yes, the richest of the rich gather here today to donate the smallest percentage of their some billions of dollars to charity,” a booming voice tisked through a microphone. “Do you feel good about your good deed of the year? Are you proud of yourselves?”

For some unknown reason, the voice paused, as if waiting for an answer or a reaction from the people. Nothing was heard besides shrill screaming and crying, which was probably what the wannabe-vigilante wanted. For the first time, you peaked through the slits of the table cloth. At the stage where Minho gave his speech was a now-broken stage with the foot of a giant robot through it. It was a very top-heavy robot that looked like it had a large cavity in its belly, whose odd shape probably served some weird purpose unknown to everyone.

“Perhaps you’ll be proud of your donations for once when we capture you all and milk you of your every last penny!” The man laughed evilly at the head of the robot. “Down with the rich!”

“Down with the rich!” his people cheered in unison.

The oddly political turn of events made the scene less jarring - it seemed like an over-exaggeration of townspeople coming together to fight for higher taxing of the rich. Then you were reminded of the Dragon-level threat by how the minions loaded up the richies with a gun pointed to their heads and the complex mechanism that loaded them up to the belly of the robot. Somewhere among the mass of people you saw Seonghwa in between another surgeon and a senior engineer at Tesla before he disappeared behind the walls of metal.

“Hey, I found another one!” someone yelled close by. “Under Table 2!”

Shit. “Fuck.”

Perhaps all those years of advance self defense classes that Minho’s father enrolled you in would come to good use this time.

By your glamorously-strapped heel, one of the masked men dragged you out from under the table. There was no use in struggling, and the man seemed quite satisfied with how you complied.

“Let’s go, darling.”

With your free foot, you dug the pointy end of the studded heel into his groin. Luckily, you can only ever imagine how painful something like that could feel. He was in so much pain that he doubled over and let go of your foot, leaving you to flee to God-knows-where after you stole his police baton.

“Don’t fucking call me darling,” you spat as a farewell.

There were too many men in between you and the emergency exit, so you had to fight your way through like in those cheesy American action movies. A bunch of kicks in the groin here and a couple baton to the knee caps there were enough to get you by half way, but then they started double-teaming on you. Of course, this was much harder, but Senior Mr. Lee didn’t give you the best sensei in the damn nation for no reason. You felt invincible even after defeating multiple double teams, but it was the triple teaming that got you stuck. You can only kick and baton so many groins at one time until two men held each of your arms and the other stole the baton.

While struggling to break free, you managed to knee the one in front of you in the chin, causing him to cut his lip with blood dripping on his cheap leather shoes. After realizing what had happened, he punched you in the cheek as punishment. Was that a bone you heard cracking?

“Try me again, bitch,” he seethed.

Out of nowhere, your knight in Iron armor landed before the one who punched you and returned the favor, sending his body through so many walls of this building that you worried about the foundation and how long you had before it collapsed.

Minho’s red and gold helmet swung sharply and the empty eyes were staring into the souls of your captors while at the same time not.

“Who’s next?” Minho threatened with his super cool and inaccurately deep robotic voice.

Both men fled the scene as quickly as possible, losing their grip and throwing you to the floor. The penny taste finally registered in your brain that yes, you were definitely coughing and spitting out blood.

The cold metal of Iron Man’s hand helped you to your feet while the other cupped your quickly-bruising cheek gently. The underlying tenderness of your boss’s touch somehow healed all pain, or perhaps it was the cooling iron. Gestures like these were so foreign that you almost forgot it was your boss behind the mask and not some handsome stranger who was ready to sweep you off your feet. It was instances like these where you wished the latter was real.

“Are you ok?” he asked gingerly.

“I’m fine,” you promised. “Go save your investors.”

A light chuckle came from Iron Man. “My driver’s already waiting outside. Are you able to run?”

“I’m not leaving without you.”

“C’mon, _____, now’s not the time -”

“Do not argue with me until you save everyone, Mr. Lee.”

Minho shook his head tiredly. He knew there was no use arguing with his headstrong secretary. “You’re so stubborn. Just promise you won’t get into any trouble this time.”

“No.”

“I’m cuttin’ down on your work hours!” he yelled, blasting off to fight the giant robot thing so he wouldn’t have to hear you argue back again.

You were left with a couple of masked minions who still had the balls to attack and capture you as if you were worth more than your surprisingly above-average five-figure salary. Your copper saliva mixed with your boss trusting you enough to not die in the middle of a Dragon-level threat really pumped the adrenaline through your veins, so as one man sprinted to attack, you managed to dodge it and kick him in the throat before he could try something else. The other guy tried to sneak up behind you, but you were quicker, swinging the baton hard enough to the head to knock him out cold. The power you felt coursing through your body left you on a major high. Where were all the other minions? No way was that all…

In the middle of the banquet hall was the face-off of the century, rivaling any and all story lines from DC and Marvel combined. A tiny seven-foot-something intricately crafted and painted sheet of metal was about to fight a giant several-stories tall and several-dozen-tons heavy hunk of junk with dozens of guests they managed to scoop inside. Now how was Mr. Lee going to save the day this time?

“Lee Minho, the man of the night,” the man controlling the ship scoffed. “You will look like my childhood favorite action figure once I stuff you in a glass box in my office! A prized treasure is what you’ll be. How does that sound?”

“Sounds kinky.” You could just sense the smirk behind his mask. “Then what will you do to me?”

“Milk you of all your assets, of course! Liquidation of its truest definition! The redistribution of wealth will come easy to the people, especially with your earnings in the mix!”

“Fine, take my money. But let these people go.”

“Absolutely not! I need all the money I can get! How do you expect me to change the distribution of wealth of the entire world with just one CEO’s salary!? Mr. Lee, I thought you knew that, silly.”

“Ok, fine. You take all of our money and then what?”

“Well, kill you, of course.”

A chorus of gasps and crying were heard from the belly of the machine.

The philosophical man continued. “People like you are the very reason there is a large pay gap. You sit on your ass drinking cocktails and eating caviar and you donate to some profiting charity only a tiny percentage of what you make while all the good hard-working people are the ones bringing the big bucks into your bank account! And what do they get? Small paychecks and four hours of sleep!”

Yeah, this guy was bad, but he had his points, so you’ll cheers to that, am I right?

“Well, then where will you get your money after that? Hm?” The captain stayed silent. “Where will you get more money to sustain this utopia? Certainly not from the hard-working people who have no experience leading or handling such a huge sum of money. And certainly not from you, right? Ha! With your five-figure salary paychecks that barely get the bills paid on time.”

A heavy arm swung to try and snatch up your boss. Though the arm was so large and heavy, Minho barely managed to escape his grasp. By the silence of the once-chatty leader of the pack, you could tell that he was bothered by the words spat by the youngest CEO in the room. How dare Minho mock his hard-earned pay when his earnings were given to him on a VVS diamond-encrusted platter!? There were a couple of times where he landed a couple of hits on your boss and you should feel worried, but you couldn’t help but think he deserved it. You hated to be on the enemy’s side, but you, too, were one of those five-figure salary paycheck owners that are barely scraping by with their bills. And of course you were all for the redistribution of wealth, but this guy definitely went a little too far…

You would think that the sheer size of this oddly-shaped hunk of metal wouldn’t be able to move so fast, but it managed to capture Minho by digging its claw to the wall and sandwiching Minho in between. He couldn’t even wiggle his way out between gaps because the thing was pressing too hard against the wall. Minho could feel the metal bending from inside.

“People like you will never understand the worth of the dollar,” the captain seethed. “Not when stacks come to you in baskets sewn with gold and jewels commissioned by your Daddy. People like you, and everyone captured, need to be humbled a little. Maybe you all can learn a little something from the working class.”

“Then we die, is that right?”

“Of course! But at least you’ll die a hard-working man, Mr. Lee.”

“I will. But I’ll die a hard-working man with billions in my grave before I let you take a penny!”

The blue beam of light that you once cursed for burning a half circle on your palm you were now thankful for, as that beam of light shot your boss up in the air and freed him, taking a few fingers off of the hunk of metal with him. A couple more shots of incinerator beams later, and both arms of the robot had been severed and half disintegrated. Minho kicked the glass where the leader sat and pulled out the defenseless lump of flesh that spoke the harsh truth about the wealthy. The leader was a young man who was not much older than either you or your boss, who didn’t look afraid in the slightest. Perhaps he expected, or even wanted, to go out this way - fighting for what he believed in.

The police, who had been waiting outside for all the ruckus to die down, came in and cuffed the leader and a few of his minions who cowardly hid under the tables. Minho helped all of his investors safely come out and among the crowd you saw Seonghwa, safe and sound.

You thought after a traumatic attack that now was not the time and place to reveal who Iron Man was or even associate yourself with him, so you tried to mix in with the crowd and book it to the driver like he asked you to do before. But of course your flaunty boss wanted to do the exact opposite.

“_____, wait!”

No, no, no, no, no, what the hell! Really!? Right now!? was how Minho read your expression as he walked to you with the suit on. When the seven-foot something Iron Man stopped before you, the face of his helmet slid open to reveal an out-of-breath Minho. The entire banquet hall echoed with gasps.

“Are you ok? You’re not hurt, are you? Your bruise is getting worse!”

You could not feel anything on the left half of your face besides intense pain and somehow numbness at the same time and your limbs felt like jello and over-kneaded dough. But you couldn’t let your boss worry about you - he needs to take care of more important people right now. You’ll be fine come tomorrow once you sleep on a frozen bag of peas.

“I’m fine, I promise,” you said convincingly. “Looks like you have an impromptu press conference to deal with.”

To Minho’s dismay, all of the cameras and press and the phones of his business friends captured his face inside the Iron suit next to his famous secretary that all his business friends wished they had. He knew you hated press conferences because even though you never said anything, you were always by his side and that meant the cameras were pointed at you also.

“I can deal with them. Go to the car and go home.”

“I can stay with you.”

“I won’t allow it. You need to go home and ice your face.”

“I said I -”

“I said go.”

Minho never raised his voice at you ever because he never had a reason to. You were always hard-working and loyal and you always did everything correctly and did it with his best interest in mind. He’ll allow small things that might be detrimental to your health, like all the over time you loved to have and the unhealthy amounts of coffee you drown yourself in. But when the arm that’s supporting your body weight was shaking, your left cheek was the color of aubergine, and you had blood splatters on different parts of your body, that’s when he had to draw the line. Worry was knitted into his brows and his lips were a flat line and you only ever saw his face like this whenever he talked with his father. It was terrifying to see him almost mad at you and it made your heart sink a little that you did something wrong.

He softened his expression upon seeing your glossy eyes. “Take Monday off to rest. I’ll see you on Tuesday, ok?”

“But -”

“I’ll pay you for your time off, so don’t worry about the money. I just want you to rest. Can you do that for me?” You could only nod. “Thank you. Go home - I’ll text you when I’m done cleaning up tonight.”

Minho plastered on his happy television face and returned to the fawning crowd and overly-thankful investors. You were blinded by the flashing camera lights and that was your cue that you didn’t belong there anymore.

The trot music-loving driver hummed the whole way home while driving on auto-pilot, as he had memorized the path to your apartment long ago. Sitting in the back seat covered head-to-toe in the finest satin wasn’t as luxurious when you were alone as opposed to having your equally-luxurious boss next to you. You imagined what it’d be like if a giant robot didn’t crash the party this evening: you’d probably yell at him more about how you needed space and that he was overreacting with the whole Seonghwa deal; then he might try to bribe you with food or dessert so that you’d stop pouting like a child (and you’d totally cave in); and finally, he’d walk you up to your doorstep begging to come inside once more and you’d deny his entry, only for him to leave you with a comment about how you were the most stunning person at the ball tonight.

In short, as much as you hated to admit it, the ride home was lonely. Can you believe that? Your short time alone away from your boss was fucking lonely. Not peaceful, not relaxing, not mind-clearing, but totally and completely lonely. So much so that your heart ached a little, and to put these feelings in the simplest terms, it was because you were so used to being by his side that the emptiness to the seat next to you mimicked an unfamiliar cavity in your heart. It’s a painful feeling, really, because that meant leaving this job would be much harder than you hoped.

As if he planted a tracking device in your phone, Minho texted you upon locking the front door to your place.

The Money Man [01:03 am]: did you make it home ok?

An involuntary smile spread across your lips.

You [01:04 am]: just got home. are you stalking me?

The Money Man [01:04 am]: you didn’t think the phone i gave you was completely harmless and bugless, did you? ;)

You [01:05 am]: i should have known better. how’s the impromptu press conference? are people surprised that it’s you?

The Money Man [01:07am]: they are, but at the same time it’s not. ppl keep asking me questions and won’t let me take the suit off, can you believe that!? it’s hot as balls in this thing!!

The Money Man [01:07am]: shit, gotta go - gotta somehow convince these idiots this is definitely NOT something to invest in.

You [01:08am]: text when you’re home.

The Money Man [01:08am]: yes, darling.

‘Darling’ has a nice ring to it.

Having Sunday all to yourself was normal and you did what you always did every weekend: cleaned your place, took your time making a nice meal, organizing all of your work papers, and ended the night with a hot shower and an ice pack to your cheek. Monday, on the other hand was a disaster. You were so bored! Your fingers were itching to scribble down your boss’s agenda and you were so tempted to log into your work laptop, but you knew Minho would chew your ear off for not listening to him and resting as you should. It wasn’t your fault that you were a work-a-holic!

After looking in the mirror and hating the way your face looked for the fiftieth time, it was time to accept that the bruise wouldn’t disappear for at least a couple more weeks. Sunday was at its ugliest, where the center of your cheek was a deep purple and there was this off-colored halo around the perimeter. Now, the swelling went down and it wasn’t as purple or painful, but still equally ugly no matter how you looked at it or tried to cover it up.

After a lonely and boring Monday afternoon, your doorbell rang around 5:00pm. You weren’t expecting any visitors or deliverymen, so upon peaking through your viewfinder, you were surprised to see your boss on the other side.

“What are you doing here?” you asked surprised.

Minho was glad you didn’t seem disgusted by his presence since he was the one who told you to take the day off and you must be tired of seeing his face by now. He whipped out an oily bag from behind his back with a child-like grin on his face. It was an unusual sight to see a man dressed in a several thousand dollar business suit carrying a twenty dollar bag of dinner.

“You and I have some business to discuss.”

“Hold on, let me get this straight - you tell me to take the day off, rest up, ice my bloodshot cheek only for you to come into my home and say I need to work?”

“Yup,” he claimed unapologetically, squeezing past you to get through.

“Yes, please come in, Your Highness,” you rolled your eyes, though he was already setting up at your dinner table.

“Your home is nice. Why are you always so embarrassed whenever I try to come in?”

“I mean, look at it. It’s nowhere near as nice as your home.”

“It’s as more of a home than my place will ever be, no matter how many velvet cushions and arcade games I ask you to buy for the place.” Minho whipped out two bottles of beer, his favorite chaser to wash down the oiliness of the fried chicken, and poured them into glasses. “How’s your cheek?”

“By the look on your face, I guess not so good?”

He adjusted his twisted expression upon your teasing. Blood and bruises were never his thing, so any variation of the sort just looked bad in general. “It just looks so painful… Have you been icing it like I asked?”

“I have, and it’s not as painful as it looks!”

“Oh, yeah?”

Minho challenged your claim by standing in front of you and lowering his head to see you at eye-level. His face was way too close to be considered appropriate for CEO and Secretary relationship behavior, though you knew he never cared for those formalities. His eyes were always so sparkly per usual and that gave him that dreamy stare all the ladies in the office loved. You never saw the appeal to it until now, with only a few centimetres in between.

He poked your bruised-like-an-apple cheek.

“Ow, what the hell!” you screamed, swatting his hand away.

“Not as painful as it looks, my ass.”

“Well, people don’t go around poking my cheek all day!”

“Do you need pain killers? My doctor can write you a prescription for the best one on and off market.”

“That’s ok, I only trust Dr. Seonghwa.”

Minho gave you the same look he gave a former intern who got his breakfast and coffee order incorrect. Let’s just say the intern started crying on the spot. You, on the other hand, could barely hold in your snicker from his death glare. You were never on the receiving end of the infamous death glare and now that you were, it was hard to take it seriously.

“Ha ha,” Minho fake laughed. “Not funny.”

“What exactly do you have against him, anyways? It’s surprising that you’re threatened by the likes of a doctor and not some other hot shot software company CEO.”

“I don’t have anything against him.”

“You’re such a liar!” you scoffed, taking a swig of the ice-cold beer. “If you didn’t have a problem with him, you wouldn’t have acted so defensive at the charity ball.”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he said shamelessly. A vigorous bite of a chicken leg came afterwards. “He looks at you like how I look at chicken legs.”

“Well, maybe I like the way he looks at me.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Stop doing that.”

“You deserve it for acting like my Dad that night.”

“I said I was sorry! I even bought you dinner and cold beer to make up for it!”

“Oh, so this is not because you said that me and you have some business to discuss?”

“Well, that, too.” Minho wiped his greasy fingers on his silk handkerchief that he kept on the inside of his breast pocket before whipping out his phone to show you multiple news articles on the night of the charity ball. “Watch these videos.”

Almost all of them were exposing your boss who was behind the genius that is Iron Man, but what preceded the reveals were clips of you kicking major ass. The sources came from both paparazzi and the security tapes at multiple angles and it was hard to hide the fact that it was you as all angles captured your facial features quite clearly. Headlines and whole articles talked about how the mighty CEO and his secretary were the perfect unstoppable duo and they weren’t wrong - you kicking ass in a sexy outfit with a man of iron handling the big guy? Definitely a story worth selling.

Your brows furrowed worriedly because you had no idea how Minho felt. “Are you mad…?

“Mad?” Minho paused the current video and placed his phone face-down on the table so he could focus on his good chicken and better company. “Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know! What’s the point in showing me these videos?”

“To show you how bad ass you look! Where did you even learn these moves!?”

“For some reason, your father thought being a secretary was dangerous enough that he decided to enroll me in some classes. I actually really liked it a lot, so I kept at it and I guess I got to a pretty advanced level.”

“Pretty advanced is definitely a misnomer, love. Well, it’s good to hear that Father has made one good decision in his reign.”

“Is this the business you wanted to speak about?” you asked shyly, hoping that the beer was a good enough excuse for your blushing cheeks. You’ll never get used to Minho praising you.

“Sort of. I have a proposition for you.”

“What, that you want me to be your sidekick?” you scoffed. When Minho remained silent with only the same sly smirk on his lips, you could see your worst fears coming true. “Oh, God, you’re not serious.”

“I am one hundred percent serious.”

“Are you out of your damn mind!? I am not sidekick material!”

“You totally are! You and I are already the perfect duo! Why not take it up a notch!?”

“No, Mr. Lee, I cannot be your secretary again, but in a different form and outfit!”

“Why not!? It’s not like I’m not going to pay you for it.”

“The pay is not the problem. The pay is never the problem. It’s…”

How do you put that the pressure of keeping the entire country safe and being by his side twenty-four/seven sounded like your own personal purgatory that you could never escape for as long as you lived, or until you died by the hands of some Demon-level threat monster?

“It’s a huge commitment, I know,” Minho admitted. “Too huge to even put a price on it. But can you at least consider it? I can’t imagine anyone else by my side except you.”

Now only if a man who wasn’t your boss said that to you without any underlying superhero context, you might have considered the proposal.

“Mr. Lee, I can’t…”

You hesitated getting the right words out, but Minho knew why. You’ve been bringing up how you couldn’t stay his secretary forever, and although he knew this was true, he couldn’t help but try to keep you anyways. You’ve been loyal to him for so long that he often forgot how to treat you like a friend and not his subordinate. But the thought of you leaving? Soon, at that? It was something he didn’t want to think about just yet. He wanted to keep you by his side for as long as he could.

Minho downed the last of his beer before whipping out his phone again. This time a slow song played over the speakers. He stood up and offered you a hand.

You raised a brow. “What are you…?”

“You and I never got to dance on Saturday. So dance with me.”

“Here? Right now? In my small ass apartment?”

“The next charity ball isn’t for another month and I don’t think I can wait that long.”

His impatience was just shy of flattering - if only you weren’t so afraid of being within close proximity to him. It was one thing when he helped ease the burn on your hand, it was another when he touched your cheek while inside his iron suit, but the two of you alone dancing in the middle of your living room was a whole other level of intimacy that needed to be hidden from human resources,

You took his hand and he led you to the living room. One hand on your waist and another holding the one with the scabbing half-circle. The two of you swayed in silent contentment for several songs. It was a comfortable silence, but there’s some hidden sadness to it that you couldn’t explain - something along the lines of him missing you dearly, despite you being right in front of him, and you missed him dearly, too. So much that your nerves made you squeeze his hand harder, asking him to not let go of you for a long time.

Then your boss pulled you in close enough that it felt like he was hugging you.

“S-Sir?” you stuttered nervously.

“Thank you,” he began. “For always being there.”

“Well, that’s my job,” you snickered.

“Not just as my secretary, but as my friend.”

“You think of me as your friend?”

“I do. Don’t tell Vice President Chan this, but I consider you one of my closest friends.”

“You’re quite soft, aren’t you?” It took a moment to register that he was definitely not joking. The tension in your shoulders diminished and you were able to relax in front of the equally-vulnerable man. “I consider you one of my closest friends, too.”

“Really?”

“By association though. After all these years being by your side, it’s only natural that I came to like you.”

“I like you, too,” he chuckled, tucking some hairs behind your ear. “A little too much, at that.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“In another lifetime, I feel like you and I would be soulmates.”

“You don’t think we would be in this lifetime?”

Were you hoping to be? “Perhaps. By association though, right?”

You didn’t want to press more about any underlying meaning to his statements, so instead you looked down embarrassed. In another lifetime, in this lifetime, in multiple lifetimes, Minho thought you and him would be each other’s soulmate no matter what, because a lifetime with you sounded perfect.

A thumb gently ran over the perimeter of your cheek bruise and it tickled rather than burned, so that was a good sign that it was healing. A loud tisk came from your boss.

“God, do I really put you through this much pain!?” he cried aloud.

“Huh? You didn’t cause this - those dumbass followers did!”

“I guess, but I was the one who brought you to that event! And what about the scar on your hand, huh? I definitely caused that one.”

“Well, yeah, but -”

“That’s it, I can’t be hurting you like this anymore. I can’t be putting you through all of this danger like you’re my bodyguard. I have to let you go.”

You knew he was joking when he couldn’t hold in his cheeky smile. “That is not probable cause to fire me, Mr. Lee.”

“Really? Dammit.”

“No matter how many times I get hurt, you can’t get rid of me that easily, ok? I go out on my own terms!”

“So strong willed… I almost hate it.” Minho sighed exaggeratedly before pulling you in for a real hug this time. His arms squeezed your waist tightly, letting you know that he didn’t want to let you go even if he tried. “Just make sure to give me a two weeks notice, all right?”

“Anything for you, boss.”

“I’m going to miss hearing that from you the most when you leave.”

You hit his chest lightly, but he caught your hand and held it for a few moments before leading you back to your kitchen to finish up dinner. The rest of the night wasn’t you and your boss - it was you and your closest friend enjoying dinner and some ice cream you had in your freezer.

In another lifetime, huh? Too bad you were stuck in this one.

Work has mellowed out in terms of paperwork and actually work and has instead transitioned into more press conferences and meetings with government officials regarding Iron Man. In theory, the meetings sounded cool, but you wouldn’t know for sure, as your boss decided to take one of the newer girls as his assistant for these meetings.

The first time he denied your company, you were only a little confused, but it soon passed when he said there was a lot of paperwork he only trusted you to complete on his behalf. But when he would bring her to every event - whether it was out of habit or on purpose - for an entire month, and her only, it really made your blood boil.

No, you weren’t jealous…! You weren’t jealous he was hanging out with someone younger and prettier and more his type! Definitely not! You were upset that your boss, whom you called one of your closest friends in a time of vulnerability, was already replacing you before you could put your two weeks in! And you knew this to be true when he denied your invitation to get lunch and instead you found him in the cafeteria laughing and flirting with the new girl at the table you and him would always sit at.

For a whole month, without even knowing it, you were slowly getting left behind and replaced for someone better - someone who would actually heed his every word and never argue. Someone who would keep their mouth shut for once. Someone who wouldn’t mind taking order from him forever.

It had been a month since you were living in this limbo, and tonight, the night of the Animal Cruelty Charity Ball to which Iron Man would be making a guest appearance, was when you knew he no longer needed you.

“You’re taking Ryujin…?” you repeated, as you couldn’t believe your ears.

“Yes, so you can go home early if you want,” Minho said as he fixed his bow tie in the giant mirror in his office. He then turned to present to you with an ignorant grin. “How do I look?”

“Why are you taking her?”

“She’s been working hard this past month, so I thought I’d reward her with tonight and have her practice some networking skills.”

“How generous of you,” you mumbled bitterly to yourself.

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

“Can you help me put on this chain necklace thing? The clasp is so damn tiny…”

Reluctantly, you helped clasp the silver jewelry. While you thought your boss was heavily admiring himself in the mirror, he instead was focused on you and how your face was uncharacteristically stern.

“Are you ok?” he asked sincerely. He pressed a firm hand to your forehead. “Are you sick?”

You harshly swatted his hand away. “I’m fine.”

He shrugged it off, thinking that you probably had a bad week with all of the boring work he’s been having you deal with. A lot of weird and unsettling energy was pent up inside of you for the past month, so before you exited Minho’s office for the weekend, for some reason you thought this was the appropriate time to speak on it.

“Actually, I’m not fine,” you blurted out. Minho gave you his full attention for the first time that month. “I… I’m putting in my two weeks.”

His eyes went wide. “What?”

“I’m giving you my two weeks notice.”

“Do you have a job lined up?”

“No, but I will figure that out later.”

“You don’t have another job lined up but you want to quit? Where is this coming from?”

He didn’t sound angry. He wasn’t - he was more hurt than anything else that you wanted to leave without a proper explanation. He thought you and him were doing well… What changed so suddenly?

“I can’t do this anymore,” Minho noted how your voice was shaking. “I was fine when you had me staying ungodly hours, I was fine when you had me get you coffee every morning and your dry cleaning every Monday, and I was fine when you involved with the Iron Man project, but now all you’ve given me lately is paperwork and shit that the new hires should be doing and not myself!”

“_____, language -”

“And why is that? Why do I feel like I’m starting to get left behind already, or-or why do I feel like you don’t appreciate anything I do!? It’s clear to me that you’ve already begun to replace me, so what’s the use of me staying here when you don’t want me anymore?”

Minho was silent. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad or surprised at your sudden outburst. The tension in the room was suffocating and his silence even more so, like this was his ideal form of psychological torture. Minho didn’t seem to care for your feelings anymore as he turned back to face the mirror.

“Your two weeks has been noted,” was all he said.

You left the room in tears, with your blood still boiling and your heart crushed. But this was a good thing. In the end, this would be a good thing, is what you were trying to tell yourself, because this lifetime wouldn’t let you be with Minho.

Another month passed by and you were left in a worse limbo than you began with a month and a half ago. No one was contacting you about any job offers so you were left to ‘self-reflect’ or some bullshit this self-help book told you to do for the past two weeks. Luckily, all the overtime you put into your savings account had vastly accumulated into an unthinkable sum that would support you far beyond whatever the government noted as a proper unemployment time. Like, you didn’t even know what to do with the money sometimes - thank Minho for time-and-a-half, huh?

On days where you couldn’t help yourself - when you felt like torturing yourself - you would look up Minho on all the tabloid sites. Surprisingly enough, this happened way more than you’d like. Of course, as you speculated, Ryujin had quickly taken your spot as his secretary and God, did you like to shit on how terrible she was! You didn’t have to be at the office to know that Minho must be frustrated with her by the crookedness of his ties and jackets and how she must have forgotten to schedule a salon appointment by the look of his roots and unruly brows.

Ha! That’s what he fucking gets for not being grateful! That dick!

What a shame your relationship with him had come to. To spend what felt like an entire lifetime with him to being complete strangers, it was like you were reborn into this new and fresh carefree person. So carefree that you hummed on the way home with a bag full of fresh produce from the local market.

Perhaps you should have been less carefree, as a stranger snuck up behind you and knocked you out cold.

“Ryujin, where’s my document-signing pen?”

“Um, in your drawer?”

“Which drawer?”

“The one with all the other pens…?”

Minho sighed loudly, running a hand through his curly locks and staring intently at the mess of papers that scattered on his desk. His desk hadn’t been this messy since the first day he started when he had to sign all of those official documents that transitioned him to CEO. The same day when he fell for you.

Ryujin, who was nothing close to a secretary compared to you, was only getting on his nerves these days. Perhaps yes, he’s been a little too harsh on someone who’s still fairly new, but in truth he just didn’t have a way to express his frustration about you leaving all of a sudden. Where had he gone wrong?

“Take the rest of the night off,” he told his subordinate.

The poor girl bowed obediently and scurried out the room.

Another sign left the young man’s lips. This time it was because he was tired. He couldn’t deal with anymore bullshit tonight.

An anonymous FaceTime call rang his phone. Who could be wanting to FaceTime him at such an odd hour of the weeknight?

When he swiped to answer, all he saw was you tied up roughly to a splintered chair with tape covering your mouth. Minho nearly dropped his phone.

“Good evening, Mr. Lee,” a familiar voice sang. From the shadows behind you emerged the fake vigilante that led the invasion of the Charity Ball. “I see that you’re doing well.”

“What do you want?” he demanded quietly.

“I think you know what I want.” A shiny knife drew a line across the other cheek, small drops of blood seeping through and mixing with the dried tears and dirt. Minho’s heart felt like it was collapsing. “A blank check addressed to little ol’ me.”

“If I see another scar on them, I’ll kill you,” he threatened.

The man held his hands up high in defensive mode and took a step away from you. “Fine, I won’t touch them! Just give me what we want near the docks.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Oh, and one more thing - come dressed in Iron Man and I’ll slice their throat. Bye!”

The line cut dead and Minho had no choice but to leave empty-handed with only a blank check in his pocket.

The air inside the enclosed cargo bed was hot and suffocating and your rising panic did not ease your pain or heavy breathing one bit. It didn’t help that the guy and his minions were playing with your hair and playing with their knives, dragging the dull edges on your arms and neck. Normally, you wouldn’t be so weak and crying to the point that the tape around your mouth was loosening up, but life these days was tough and perhaps an event like this, causing Minho major inconvenience once again, was what you deserved.

Scurrying and uneven footsteps were heard from outside and you really, really hoped it was Minho not dressed in Iron Man.

“Here already? He must like you,” the leader teased.

The back of the cargo bed opened up to reveal that the sun had fallen a long time ago and the light of the moon outlined your plain and simple hero. He didn’t give the leader a second passing glance before blindly shoving the blank check to his chest and rushing by your side to untie you. First, he ripped off the tape and you let out loud gasps of air and cries.

Minho’s shaking hands take hold of your face to try to calm you down. “Hey hey, shh, I’m here. Are you ok? Are you hurt?” You shook your head vigorously, whining and trying to break free from the ropes tying you down. “Hold on, I got you.”

Before Minho could untie your hands, one of the minions hit him on the back of his head the same way they knocked you out. But your boss was stronger than that - his head was harder than his iron helmet. At the failed attempt, Minho hurled the guy over his shoulder and out the cargo bed. Your bad ass boss got up like it was nothing, but he was breathing heavily.

Not because he was tired or weak, but because he was furious.

Three more guys tried to kick his ass and it was then you realized that your boss wasn’t just some fake hiding behind an iron suit who could program it to fight. He truly was kicking their ass! Like, raw strength and all! If you weren’t scared to death, you might have thought this was kind of hot. But then Minho punched one of the guys too hard and it sent him flying over to you, to which you fell over and broke the chair. The rope was no longer tied to anything and you were free.

Yet another one of the lame-o sidekicks tried to capture you again, but now you were equally as furious, if not more, than your partner in crime. How dare they sneak up on you and not even give you a chance to fight back!? That was the definition of a weak-ass group of villains! So of course you had to show them a lesson and kick a few balls and some asses. But the number of asses was infinite and you were getting really tired. They had enough people to fight you and Minho until you couldn’t keep up and then they’d kill you easily.

“Mr. Lee, now would be a good time for one of your brilliant plans!” you begged between kicks and breaths.

“Ten seconds tops. But when I say so, I need you to hold my hand, ok?”

“What!? What are you planning!?”

“Just trust me!” You and Minho saw the leader direct the last ten of his minions to finish the job. “Ready? Three… two… one!”

A heavy force on the outside pushed the cargo bed off the edge of the pier and into the ocean with the purpose of drowning everyone in it. The only sensation you felt was ice cold water freezing your blood flow and Minho grasping your hand for dear life while trying to swim up to the surface. Before blacking out from lack of oxygen, you felt the ripples of something entering the ocean and saw a faded red and golden glow of light. Not a second later, a hollowed Iron Man on autopilot rushed you and Minho to the surface and placed you gently on the sand just under the pier. The silent night was filled with a chorus of ugly coughing fits from you and your boss. What a wonderful CEO slash ex-secretary couples activity this turned out to be.

As soon as your breathing returned to a rhythmic beat, a wet, crying, sand-covered Minho held your face in his still-trembling hands. He didn’t say a word - he simply held you and pressed his forehead to yours, making sure that yes, this was real, and not some unconscious dream where he was still in the middle of the ocean drowning. Yes, you were there with him and you were alive.

“Why are you crying? I was the one kidnapped,” you joked, hoping it’d lighten up the mood if but a little bit.

Minho laughed between sniffles and shivers, but couldn’t stop crying. He was smiling, but still crying, and if that didn’t perfectly depict this situation, you’re not sure there’s anything out there that did. Haphazardly, he planted a cold kiss on your forehead before pulling you into a hug.

“I’m so happy you’re ok,” he whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Why? You had nothing to do with this.”

“I’m just sorry in general. I’m sorry I took you for granted. I’m sorry for making you feel like I was replacing you. I’m sorry for not buying you that cappuccino three years ago. I’m sorry for -”

What’s the only way to silence your sexy boss in a heartfelt moment like this that would complete this superhero plot line? Kissing him mid-sentence, of course. You kissed your loving boss fully, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your whole body into it. It took him a while to register that yes, his secretary was definitely kissing him, but once it did, he kissed you even harder, enough to make you fall back onto the grass with him on top of you.

You’re left breathless the moment your lips parted. “I-I, uh, I forgive you…”

“How could you ever think that I could replace you?” he muttered. “I could never. Not in this lifetime.”

“You also said that me and you wouldn’t happen in this lifetime,” you challenged.

“Lifetimes can merge into one, I guess.”

Iron Man returned to Minho’s basement as soon as his job was done, so your favorite driver picked you two up in ten minutes with plush hot towels and dry clothes to change into. The pajamas you wore already had your initials monogrammed over your heart.

“Yeah, uh, about that,” Minho began awkwardly on the car ride home. “I was going to gift them to you a couple Christmases ago, but you said that monogrammed clothing was cheesy and stupid, so I abstained…”

“... They’re not so bad,” you admitted truthfully. “Very soft.”

Coming home to Minho’s felt so wrong, yet so right. You’ve only ever been inside for business reasons, such as redesigning his closets and kitchen pantry, but now that you were here on leisure - well, after almost fucking dying - it was kind of weird. But Minho holding your hand reassured you that you were wanted here - that he needed you here, damp with salt water and all.

“Take a shower upstairs. I’ll go make some tea.”

You gladly obeyed, using your favorite shower that you helped design. The door and the walls of the shower were made of glass and the shower head hung from the ceiling, making your long, hot shower feel like it was raining. Your body was covered in cuts and bruises and it was really ugly, but you’ve never felt more badass and in control in your entire life.

You left the shower smelling like orchids and eucalyptus and entered the kitchen that smelled like ginger and honey. Minho, who had also showered, followed shortly after, stealing a kiss on your cheek that was cut up earlier that evening.

You followed Minho to his giant marble island while he poured tea into white mugs on the other side. This felt so… domestic. This felt so right. This felt like home.

“I have a business proposition for you,” he smirked slyly.

Well, that ruined the moment. “What, no ‘how have you been the past month since I replaced you with some other chick’?”

“I promise I’ll ask that after, but I need to ask you this.” Your hard-headed boss was all giddy just at the idea of it and it was the first time in a whole month since you’ve seen him smile like this. He was so, so cute.

“Fine, what is it?”

“I want to hire you back.”

“Mr. Lee, I already told you, I can’t -”

“As the Head Director of the Iron Man project.”

Your eyes widened at the prestigious title. “Head Director?”

“You stayed by my side through all the criticism and the praise and I can’t imagine a better person for the position.”

“So it’s not just a fancy title for like, super mega ultra secretary, right…?”

Your handsome man chuckled. “No, I promise.”

“Head Director, huh?” your lips slowly spread into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”

“Is that a yes?”

“On a few conditions.”

“Hit me.”

“Higher pay with time-and-a-half.”

“Obviously.”

“I get my own secretary.”

“Only if you don’t fall in love with them like I did.”

You rolled your eyes and continued. “An extra week of vacation.”

“You’re pushing it.”

“Last one. I’m your date to every event from now on.”

Minho raised his eyebrow teasingly. “Oh? And if I say no?”

“Then I say no.”

“Jeez, I’m kidding! So strict. Of course you can, on two conditions.”

“Fine.”

“You call me Minho from now on. Or boyfriend, or soulmate, or sexiest man alive, or whatever suits your fancy.”

“Deal.”

“Second,” Minho leaned in and puckered his pink lips. “Seal this with a kiss.”

You start your new job next week - after Minho cashed in one week of vacation to spend with his soulmate.

#minho #lee minho #lee know #skz #stray kids #lee minho imagines #minho imagines #lee know imagines #lee minho scenarios #minho scenarios #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids minho #i still hate the ending idc tho #if i had time i would rewrite it... too sleepy lolol

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lelenoir · 4 years ago

Text

pairings: soulmate!na jaemin x reader and a small dash of mark lee x reader

word count: 5.3k+

warnings: profanities, one suggestive scene, also some historical inaccuracies [since i don’t know how to speak oldsey timesy english], if you feel like you’ve read this before it’s because you have, in my old blog.

synopsis: a person’s life is destined for a purpose. in this world, everyone revolves around one purpose and that purpose floats around one person, a soulmate. throughout the majority of a person’s life, they are all set to a journey to find their other halves. some lived to be hundreds of years old in their pursuit. but it was all worth it when two souls finally meet.

taglist: @mikasrecs

note: big big thank you to my future wife @jimjamjaemin for reading this fic in its baby days and to @jenoir for being one of my constant motivators and helping me fix my horrible grammar. i love u both :( 💕

Greece. 650 B.C.

A person’s life is destined for a purpose. In this world, everyone revolves around one purpose and that purpose floats around one person, a soulmate. Throughout the majority of a person’s life, they are all set to a journey to find their other halves. Some lived to be hundreds of years old in their pursuit. But it was all worth it when two souls finally meet.

Na Jaemin was a firm believer of the soulmate bonds. He was a sucker for it, often slipping into countless daydreams of him meeting his other half.

He imagined it to happen in a vast field of flowers, the sun shining bright with no one in sight but him and his soulmate. Every second would go in slow motion, with him savoring every moment of it. His mother often scolded him for it, telling him off whenever he over baked the bread or mixed up the customers’ orders due to him zoning out.

His best friend, an upper class, named Lee Jeno got his tattoo months before him. It made the younger boy giggle every time he recalled the memory. The way Jeno’s parents gasp at the words engraved on their son’s skin like it was an abomination. And in the traditions and beliefs of Ancient Greece, it was.

Before Jaemin could even stifle his chuckle, Jeno walked through the door of their shop. He sported a colorful tunic, a contrast to the plain white one the younger boy was wearing.

“Big day tomorrow,” Jeno remarked, a happy tone lacing his voice as he strolled towards the counter, eyeing the bread displayed all around.

Jaemin couldn’t help but beam at the thought. Tomorrow was his eighteenth birthday and in his world, eighteen is probably considered the most important age a person will turn to. It was the age of independence. The age where you are thrusted into a very long journey. For some that journey might last for a year, maybe five or ten. And those people are considered very lucky because for some that journey could stretch up to a hundred years. Because at eighteen is when you receive a tattoo. Not just any tattoo, but your soulmate bond.

After that, a person’s age will be stuck to eighteen until they meet their other half. Thus, the journey ensues.

“What do you think the sentence will be?” Jeno asked, throwing a glance over to the boy.

“As long as it’s better than yours then I’m good.” Jaemin teased, making the other scowl in return. It was an ongoing joke the pair had. The sentence written on Jeno’s wrist in bold were the words; ‘nice going, asshole!’ making the older feel embarrassed by the obscene words his soulmate will throw at him. Since then, he wore a long bracelet to cover the tattoo. “Anyways what do you need? Not like I can give you much since we only sell bread here.” Jaemin said, leaning his hands on the counter.

“Just the usual,” the older answered, “some relatives are stopping by.”

Jaemin nodded, going to the back where his mother bakes. The heat from the ovens made the boy readjust the tunic he was wearing. He took one of the white bread from the rack and wrapped it up for his friend.

“Thanks,” Jeno said, taking the food before giving the payment for it. “Goodluck tomorrow!” He called over his shoulder, offering one last smile before exiting the shop, leaving the boy to go back to daydreaming.

That night Jaemin couldn’t sleep. How could he? He waited his entire life for this moment. Carefully, he lit the small lamp on the table next to his makeshift bed. He watched as the light touched every part of his small room. The chilly breeze of the night crawling up to his back, making him shiver. He took the large blanket on his bed before wrapping it around his body.

His eyes bore on the skin of his wrist, waiting. He shifted, tapping his foot impatiently on the floor. He turned his attention to the window to look at the glowing moon surrounded by its many stars. It should happen anytime now. He assured himself. Of course the onslaught of his anxiety didn’t stop after that. Every second felt like an hour to him and every hour felt like an eternity. His eyes shot fire to his wrist as he continued to stare intensely at it. The tapping of his foot grew more frantic by the minute.

He almost couldn’t contain himself as specks of black started to appear, the small tickling sensation making his lips part into an amazed 'o’. He pulled the cloth on his shoulders closer as the black swirled around the surface. His smile grew wider as time went by and the words started to become more distinguishable.

Jaemin could almost see it; the way his soulmate’s eyes would gleam, he could almost hear the sound of their laughter, and feel the electricity when their fingertips touch. Would you be as happy as him when you two meet? Would you even get the jokes he’d tell? How long will he wait for you?

He hoped it wouldn’t be long. But he also wouldn’t mind if it took a long time. He knew it was worth it. The simplest of questions ran through his mind but all of it stopped as the final word started to take form.

'you dropped your phone.’

His eyebrows furrow at the strange word. Phone? He can’t help but wonder what that was. Was it some kind of foreign food? He didn’t think so, but if it was then where was it made? The East? He heard a lot of exotic food was made there. There was a ship about to go on another expedition up north. Should he go now? Drop everything here to search for you? All that Jaemin could do was wonder. Happy thoughts filling his mind again once again, now that he thinks that he is one step closer to finding his soulmate; to finding you.

France. 1888.

“Come on, Mark!” You called out, dragging the boy as you marvelled at the tall unfinished tower. You hear the boy catch his breath next to you, resting his hand on his knees. You chuckled at his exhausted state before looking back to the sight in front of you. “How long do you think they’ll take to finish it?”

He looked confusedly at you before shifting his attention to the front. He scoffed, “probably a few more years. A hundred?”

You rolled your eyes at his answer. “Nonsense, Lee. You’ve seen how mankind has evolved a lot. Who knows? They might finish it next year.”

“You mean, you’ve seen how mankind has evolved.” He told you, putting more emphasis on the 'you’. “I’ve only been around for seventy years. That’s like a teaspoon compared to how long you’ve been alive.”

You hummed in reply, a sad smile settling in your features before quickly pulling yourself together.

True, it has been a long time since you were born. You’ve met so many people, practiced so many traditions and saw the world age right before your eyes. At this point you were slowly making your way around the globe; starting from your hometown and going west to whatever is out there.

You’ve met Mark in the ship that brought you here. The two of you hitting it off almost immediately. He told you about his life in Canada and about the happenings in the countries next to it. He was a young doctor, currently travelling the world to study medicine from different regions. On the way here, he gushed about the many plants, herbs and spices he had studied over the years. It was incredibly fascinating how he was so passionate about his work. You bet he could go on and on about his studies without ever going bored.

In exchange for the many information—and you know they were a lot—you told him about some of your very own adventures. You told him about the war you joined when you were nineteen and also told him about your time as a healer. You haven’t seen someone look so ready to take notes in your entire life. And you’ve been alive for years.

It was charming to say the least, the way the boy held onto your every word. You felt the first signs of subtle infatuation course through your veins whenever he looked at you. You wondered if this is what it felt like when you meet your soulmate: the loud pounding in your chest, the heat that spread across your head and lastly, the intoxicating feeling of having him around. It’s probably the loneliness speaking but you loved having him around.

This went on for days, the two of you hanging out wherever and whenever. It wasn’t new when the two of you headed out at night, the lights of Paris illuminating the streets as you and Mark walked along them. It’s only been a day but it felt like you’ve met him all your life. He loved sailing across the sea, he lived for the wind blowing against his face, and he had a passion for serving others and taking care of them.

You wondered what would happen if the whole soulmate ordeal wasn’t real. What if in this moment the both of you are just a bunch of runaway tourists bumping into each other. The first step to what could’ve been an amazing love story.

It was a funny thing, wasn’t it? The whole soulmate business. It punished you to no end but at the same time you wouldn’t have met Mark without it. You should be dead by now, you think. If it wasn’t for the partial immortality it gives, you would’ve died of old age. You wondered what would’ve been your life if it was.

Mark noticed your sudden quietness, his steps slowing down to meet yours as he looked up at you. Unaware of his stare, you continued to get lost in your own ocean of possibilities.

The touch he graced your shoulders made you jump, squeaking a bit as you looked at him in surprise. Mark chuckled at your response. He shook his head in amusement before finally having the nerve to call himself down. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You scoffed, smiling lightly at the boy. “Liked you’d ever spare anything for whatever’s going on in my head.”

“Well… why not?” He said nonchalantly. He pursed his lips together to further emphasise his point. “You’ve lived hundreds of years. I’m pretty sure everyone would like to know everything about you.”

You hummed, entertaining the thought a bit. “Are you?”

You don’t know where the boldness in your words came from but you thanked the stars for helping you build up your facade as you looked at Mark in anticipation.

He raised his eyebrow at you for a moment. His eyes showed you how much they scramble to gather his thoughts and make sense of your gaze and words. “Yes.”

Soon you found yourself locked with him in his room. Tongues moving against one another in a frenzy and hands gripping on any and every part of him. His lips tasted like honey while his touch felt like fire against your skin. His body set yours ablaze as he laid you down, sparking up every single desire he could find until you finally let him take you.

“Is this okay?” He asked. You nodded your head quickly while his fingers continued its job to untangle the knots of your dress. A sheepish smile adorning his face as he kissed you once again.

After that night, the two of you grew closer to one another. A sudden shift in the once platonic tide. The secret whispers and kisses shared when no one was looking. In another universe the two of you would’ve looked like a young couple in love. However you weren’t living in another universe. You were living in this one. One where kissing someone that isn’t your soulmate is forbidden. An insult to the gods. But you just couldn’t help but fall deeper. The world dizzying around you as you frolicked around this daydream with him. It was all wrong and you knew that. But why did every second with him feel so right?

The answer, however, slams into you as a cold harsh no. It wasn’t. And it never would. The universe, as cruel as it could be, broke you apart before you could savor it some more. Soon enough the two of you had to part ways, you were going to travel to the U.K. while he was going back to America. The both of you were unwilling to compromise so you found it best to separate.

In your last night together, Mark held you close to his chest. He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, those which were filled with hope and wistful promises. In another world, this would’ve lasted.

“In our next life,” he said, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I hope it will be ours.”

There, as you wave your hand goodbye like someone would with their lover, Mark smiled down sadly from the ship. His hand held up as well to bid you farewell. The loud horn almost deafening as he began to drift away.

You stood by the docks frozen as the wind began to pick up. You pulled your coat closer, snapping yourself out of your trance. Turning your attention to the sea, the ship was now gone, taking Mark with it. Along with the soulmate bond, promises a lifetime of heartbreaks. You just never thought it would feel this harsh.

United States of America. 1989.

After the day he got his bond, Na Jaemin was even more determined. His life worked like a clock, his daily routines consisted of waking up, helping out in the bakery, sleep and repeat. His parents withered away while Jaemin remained the same. The regulars who came to the bakery changed as well with business slowly dwindling away, wars came and gone and Jaemin managed to live through it all. Jeno accompanied him across the years, both boys living up to the ages of old men but still appeared like they were just about to see the world. When in fact, they’ve seen it all. They travelled around it together, watched history play in front of their eyes, they got to see the world evolve into things they never imagined. But at one point, even Jeno had to leave him.

It was around 1989 in a land now called the United States of America, by this point the first handheld phone was invented. And once it did, no one was more excited for it than Na Jaemin. The words on his wrist finally making sense after years of questioning.

Jaemin didn’t miss any opportunity to subtly drop it whenever he could. This made Jeno laugh every time the phone would end up either broken or, even funnier, stolen. But on the rare instances that the stranger was not an asshole, it was always a “you dropped this” or “your phone dropped” or any version of the words written on his wrist but never those exact words. It was baffling how the universe seemed to love teasing him about who his soulmate is. He blamed himself for being such a hopeless romantic.

Jeno met his soulmate during one of their late night drives across Chicago. It just finished raining and the empty streets were filled with mud. The wind was cold, and the air was still a bit dense. Jaemin had told Jeno to put the roof down so he could recreate one of the scenes in a movie they recently saw. One of the best things people ever invented, he once said in the middle of one. The older just scoffed at his remark, recounting the different times Jaemin had said the same phrase about numerous other things.

Currently preoccupied, Jeno didn’t notice the person standing dangerously close to the edge of the sidewalk nor did he notice the huge puddle of mud he was about to cut through that, unfortunately, lay in front of the person’s feet. The car sped through it, causing a huge splash of brown to befall on the unlucky person.

Jeno abruptly stopped the car to apologise, only to be slapped back with a loud: “nice going, asshole!” before he could even utter out a word.

At that moment, Jeno was in love. Only whispering a small 'wow’ followed by a “you have no idea how long I’ve waited for someone to call me an asshole.” And the rest was history.

Soon Jeno began to age while Jaemin continued being eighteen. When his friend started to have a family of his own, he started trying to live by himself, no more depending on his friend. He hated to admit it but the hundreds of years of living in this world only became bearable to him because Jeno was there. He always thought he’d have his friend by his side no matter what but now that Jeno’s hair was turning gray, he couldn’t help but shiver at the thought of facing another hundred years all by himself.

United States of America. 2030

The time came when Jeno had to finally say goodbye. Jaemin stood next to his friend’s kids as they gently put the casket down. All the people that surrounded him were filled with Jeno’s spouse’s family and friends, some of them looking older than he is while the other half could pass off as his 'peers’. Jaemin was the only one there that was Jeno’s.

It felt odd. Standing amongst strangers that aren’t supposed to be strangers. They should be his friends, yet Jaemin never felt so alone in the middle of a crowd. They lowered Jeno’s coffin but before they could throw the first patch of dirt, Jaemin threw a few purple and blue hyacinths. A symbol for constancy and sincerity.

After the ceremony, Jaemin stared up at the sky. The stars made him feel small as tears escaped his eyes. Some scholars back in his day would often say that the stars were the souls of the dead. Jaemin liked to believe his friend was there. He took in a deep breath, preparing himself to face this world all over again. Only this time, he’d be all alone.

Japan. 2031.

Meanwhile, you were miles away. The day Jaemin lost his friend, you were on your way to make a talk at one of the top universities in the country of Japan and you’d been staying there ever since. It was now the year 2031 and it was rare for someone to live hundreds of years without their soulmate, even rarer that that person played a huge role in history.

The moment the words came to your wrists, the elders in your village knew you were destined to live a long life. You were a strong warrior who fought and defended your country from colonizers. You were also a healer during the revolution and helped some prominent figures in history.

After Mark, you continued to travel the world, mostly alone, and met a handful of friends. Although none of them stuck around long, you enjoyed the temporary company. Still, your mind would always drift back to the young doctor you’ve spent Paris with.

“Anyways, after this you have another talk in Chicago next week so you still have a few days to explore.” Your assistant, Donghyuck said as the two of you walk through the halls.

You scoffed lightly, “I’ve walked through Japan more times than anyone, I feel like I already know it at the back of my hand. In fact, I feel like I know the world at the back of my hand at this point!” You sighed out exhaustively.

“I-I’m sorry…” Donghyuck stuttered out. You frowned at yourself for taking your anger out on the boy. The hundreds of years you’ve walked in this Earth really took a toll on you. You were frustrated with how long this journey was taking, the friends you met through the years have all gone to the stars. The people you used to gush about and talk to have now withered away, leaving you to years of loneliness.

“No, I’m sorry Donghyuck.” You said, giving him an apologetic smile. “I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that… Let’s just get this over with.”

Donghyuck nodded his head. Although his lips were upturned to an encouraging smile, his eyebrows were furrowed in a small frown. A subtle sign of pity.

You couldn’t blame him really, even you would pity yourself if you were in his shoes. Most people meet their soulmate after at least five years after getting the bond—heck some meet theirs after a year if you’re lucky—and that could stretch to at least a hundred but that’s it. You hold the record of being on Earth for the longest time without finding your soulmate, the second one was a guy who lived during Ancient Greece. You don’t really know much about him since he tends to lay low. Unlike you, you liked the money. If you were gonna live for hundreds of years, you atleast want to spend it rich.

After the seminar, you slumped yourself on the comfort of your bed. Hands grabbing hold of the bottle of alcohol sitting on your nightstand. You took a long swig of the drink, the liquid burning down your throat as you swallowed it all. You wiped the spill off your lips, head already spinning and eyes threatening to shut. You wondered how your soulmate was doing, or if he even was alive by now. You could wait for another hundred years but you wished they’d come soon. In your haze, you let the alcohol consume you. Turning to your side as you let go of the bottle to the carpeted floor. You were getting tired of this life anyways.

United States of America. 2031

When you arrived in Chicago, you couldn’t hide the dull look that encompassed your features. A distinguishable difference to the boy next to you, Donghyuck couldn’t help but be giddy at being in a new country. You almost laughed when he ran out of the plane excitedly, jumping around and pointing at things he rarely saw when living in Korea. His reaction made you nostalgic on how you were when you first went to a foreign country. Now it just felt like nothing. The excitement was gone and all that was left was boredom.

You suddenly remembered Mark. He was buried around here. He found his soulmate three years after Paris. You received a letter from him, describing the ecstasy and the warmth and all the things you felt with him. He wished you all the good things, hoping for you to find yours soon just like he did. You spent days in the confines of your room, inconsolable. The world was an unfair place filled with unfair people. Everything, the universe, just loved to watch you burn. You wanted to scream at them, tell them how cruel they were for doing whatever they did. But you could never do that. Not to Mark. Never at Mark.

A year later, you found out he died of tuberculosis. The young doctor didn’t even get the chance to spend a whole lifetime with his soulmate. The world was an unfair place, even to someone like Mark.

“Hey Hyuck, do you know what time the seminar will start tomorrow?” You asked, walking side by side as you made your way to your car.

Donghyuck went silent for a moment, looking through his tablet mindlessly. “Around three pm,” he replied briefly. Ever since you went off on him the week before, you’ve noticed he’s been more cautious with his words around you. You took a mental note to talk to him later.

“Okay, I need to go somewhere beforehand. It’s really important.” You told him. He nodded in reply, muttering an “okay” before turning back to his tablet and continued to scroll through it.

Jaemin had been a wreck. It had been weeks without Jeno and the boy couldn’t even will himself to go outside. He almost didn’t know what the sun felt like on his skin anymore, having drawn his curtains down since the funeral. His supply of ramen, his only source of food at this point, was already starting to go nil which meant he had to get his ass up sooner or later. He groaned to himself, pushing his body off the couch. A strong surge of dizziness attacked his brain because of the sudden movement. His hands instinctively went to his head to ease the pain.

After the sensation faded, he turned to look at himself in the mirror, cringing at his paleness. He splashed water to his face to wash off the oil, grabbed his phone and wallet then left the dingy apartment he called home.

Walking around the city felt strange now. He didn’t know why but something felt different. He chuckled to himself, of course everything was different. The world changed hundreds of years ago when he and Jeno had fled Greece due to the many wars and invasions that were happening. The world changed when he was forced to forget all that he knew and grew up to leave everything behind in order to move forward. The world changed when the people changed, gone were the days when he could get by by just baking bread, now greed roamed rampant and he’d been doing jobs he never even imagined doing back when he was in Greece. His world changed the moment Jeno met his soulmate and he was suddenly thrusted into this world he’d lived all his life in but now felt so foreign. And finally, the world changed when Jeno died. Leaving him on his own while the world continued to move forward. He adapted this far, surely he could do it all again on his own now. Everything felt difficult now. When everything felt difficult back then, he had Jeno. But now Jeno is gone.

He sighed to himself, making a turn to one familiar alley. It felt weird coming back here after weeks. He could almost imagine the ghost of his friend walking alongside him as he made way to the cemetery.

The both of them used to loiter around here a lot, watch the people come and go as they try to decipher their stories. This was where they observed their behaviors; what to do and what not to when they first came here. It was one of the two reasons why they want to be buried here instead of in Greece. They pretty much knew a lot of the names in this cemetery. The people dating back to as early as the 18th century.

His legs felt like they had a mind of their own, dragging the sullen body of Jaemin with it until they’ve reached their destination.

“Hey there,” Jaemin whispered, eyes trained down to the gray slab of stone. “It feels weird not having you around anymore but I’ll be okay. I just stopped by because… Well to be honest I don’t know. I guess I missed you? There, I said it. You’re probably laughing in the sky now or whatever. But yeah I miss you, bud.” He continued to stare at it as if waiting for a response of some sort to come. He shifted in his feet every once in a while. He sighed, “I hope you’re doing okay… wherever you are.”

With that, he turned around, kicking the bunched up pebbles on the ground as he did so. He straightened out the hoodie he was wearing before setting off to leave.

Mark’s grave was located at the farthest point of the cemetery. His was one of the oldest and most well kept graves in the section since you try to visit him whenever you were in the country, which was about at least once every two years.

The wind felt soft against your skin, making you hum at the touch. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, adorned with white puffy clouds and a bright rayed sun. It was the perfect day. You could hardly remember when you felt this calm on such a day. Usually, these weather conditions made you nostalgic of how the world was back then but today felt different. You couldn’t quite put your finger as to why.

The leaves crunched with every step you took. You managed to look around the cemetery, seeing a handful of new gravestones as you walked. You could barely remember this part as an open field back then, now it was almost filled. However, in a field full of tombstones and dead leaves, one person stood on top of it. He was a bit far from you, almost a speck in the field. He had this weird aura around him, almost drawing you in without doing anything.

You found yourself hypnotised by the figure, your legs turning to the direction of the man. What was once a speck in the distance soon became a clear form of a sad man, and oh my god he was beautiful. He had blue hair, like the sky. His eyes, although you could barely catch a glimpse of it, looked like it could hold the sun with the way it shone. His lips, downturned to a frown, made you want to come up to him for a smile. You’ve never been so enthralled by a person before. Your heart pounded in your ribcage and you were afraid that he could hear it.

He straightened himself up, your eyes suddenly distracted to the thing that fell off from one of his pockets. You rushed to him just as he was about to leave, quickly grabbing the object then tapping his shoulder.

“You dropped your phone.”

Jaemin stopped in his tracks. He turned his head to the soft voice. His eyes took in every single feature of your face, taking in every freckle, mole, eyelash and all the small details. He wanted to memorize it all.

He couldn’t believe it. There you were, in front of him in all your glory. He could feel the tears well up in his eyes as he stared at you.

You smiled at him awkwardly, eyes shifting as you wonder what was happening. Your hand—the one that wasn’t holding his phone—made its way to the ends of his shoulders, snapping him back to reality. Although he wasn’t really sure if this was actually reality. He wondered if this was just one fucked up dream he’s having. Another cruel joke the universe decided to pull on him. He pinched himself just to check.

Your eyes furrowed at the action. An awkward laugh left your throat at the weird interaction. Any normal person would have left at this point already but you found yourself mounted on the spot. His magnetic aura pulls you in even at the scary behavior he’s exuding. Something about him felt familiar.

His hand took yours that was still on his shoulder. He held it with such gentleness, it almost made you blush, an electrifying feeling travelling up to your heart that was still pounding in your chest. His free hand then went to the side of your face, making you grip the phone that you were still holding. Your breath now caught in your throat as he stared at you with so much love, you felt the butterflies storming in your guts.

Was this what Mark meant in his letters? The familiarity? The magnetizing aura? All these ran through your head as you stared at the stranger in disbelief. Tears welled up on the sides of your eyes, a shaky breath leaving your lips. Suddenly, you felt his arms around your form, a relieved sigh leaving his lips as he held you. An overwhelming euphoria washed over your bodies as you hugged him back, closing your eyes to savor the feeling of having him in your arms.

“I’ve waited lifetimes for you to find me.”

No matter how long it takes and no matter what the circumstances may be. The phenomenon when two souls, meant for each other, finally meet is always worth it.

153 notes · View notes

daydream-believin · 4 years ago

Text

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (waffles)

summary: (part 1) or (part 5) <- reader joins douxie on his quest to protect nari. he’ll need company wont he. (part 6) do you like waffles? also appalachia and nj trollmarket fun. next-> (part 7)

warnings: swearing, fem! reader, maybe an alcohol mention, proof reading is for squares yo

word count: 3875

a/n: i’m sorry to anyone from PA but wtf. i also have no idea why this turned out the way it did. bon apetit.

no gif im trying to test something

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Y/n looked over at Douxie. The blue of his hair was starting to fade into a duller hue. While not as bright and bold as his personality, it was still very nice to look at. This muted blue was softer, almost comforting in a way. Y/n found herself running her fingers through it. It wasn’t just the color that was soft. Like feathers in her hand, she gently caressed the strands. The duller color made him look tired, older, and the permanent bags under his eyes didn’t help. She placed her hand on his face and ran her thumb over a said eye bag. He gave her a very subdued smile in return. His sunken eyes were so beautiful. Her favorite color. Or colors, one should say. They were like an earth toned opal. Y/n’s hand drifted down his face. She used her thumb to explore his cheekbones, tracing constellations in his freckles, and finally settled on his mouth, tracing his cupid’s bow. Douxie couldn’t help but break the stoic face he was trying to hold.

“As much as I hate to ask this, and I really do, but will you please cease what you’re doing, My Love. I’m trying to drive here.”

“Yes, I would also like to ask you to stop, miss L/n. Not wrecking the ship is worth you canning your pda for a while.” Archie added.

Y/n pulled her hand back and exaggeratedly pouted. She teasingly stuck her tongue out at Archie for good measure, but couldn’t help but dissolve into a snicker right after so it wasn’t very effective. But really, it wasn’t her fault that Douxie’s beautifully sculpted face was right there and demanding to be touched. She tried to distract herself by focusing on the scenery around them. North Pennsylvania was delightful, so it’d be a shame if she spent the whole time that they flew through it looking at nothing but Douxie. There was plenty of time for her to do that the rest of her life. It’s not like she didn’t have every freckle memorized already. Every single adorable little dot. Right, Pennsylvania. Appalachia. Y/n was a little disappointed they didn’t manage to go through West Virginia, being as north as they were. She really wanted to know what all the fuss was about. Country roads.

The mountains were hard to transverse through, so Douxie took the boat up high in the clouds. A little too high. The oxygen was thin. While this didn’t affect Archie the dragon or Nari the plant goddess, Douxie and Y/n were getting a bit woozy. Neither would get altitude sickness to the point of dying, thanks to that good ol’ curse of immortality, but their minds weren’t exactly operating at high speeds here. They passed through a low hanging cloud in a puff of fog.

Though they were over it, just being in the range of Appalachia felt odd. There was a presence that clung to the mountains. Even flying high up in the air, one felt as though they were being watched. Like the thousand eyes of the forest were upon them. Looking down below, hanging over the edge like Douxie hated her to do, Y/n saw a herd of deer that might as well be ants. Watching over the herd was a bigger, or maybe closer, stag on a peak of some sort. His antlers were covered in crimson. Y/n hoped he was just shedding.

There were pathways cutting through the trees below, some roads, some manmade trails, some rivers, some troll trails, and some deer trails. Some that wound around in endless curves, some that seemed to start from nowhere and stop at nothing, some that went round and round in a circle, and some that crossed over each other, effectively creating a maze of sorts. Y/n didn’t know why, but she was glad she was above the trees and not in them. Something within her gut told her that as beautiful as the scenery was, she did not wish to experience it first-hand. The deer below were beautiful, but there was something not quite right about them. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to turn down a game of ninepins either, and she could really go for a drink.

Douxie’s brain may have been foggy, but he could certainly see Y/n hanging over the edge again, tantalizing him. He couldn’t help but imagine 174 ways for it to end badly. He’d been pretty passive about this before but now that they were so high up, he had no choice but to be up front now.

“Y/n, My Love,” Y/n turned her attention to him, which also pulled her weight more towards the boat than the sky. Good. “do you mind being back near the center of the ship? I really don’t like you draping yourself over the railing like that.”

Y/n was getting sick and tired of people always trying to keep her away from edges, advising her not to climb the mountain, telling her to stay inside when there was only a light rainstorm. She could handle it. She wasn’t a fucking porcelain doll. She was not wearing a fancy gown that suffocated her, she could speak, her lips were not perfectly painted on. And she wouldn’t shatter. “Relax, Dewdrop. I’m fine. I’m not just gonna go skydiving for kicks. If anyone has had a penchant for falling through the sky recently, it’s been you, Hisirdoux. I can catch myself with anti-gravity spells, like you taught me. Besides, we walk across tall, crumbly, ancient non-osha compliant walkways all the time. You never had a problem then.”

“Well,” He huffed, “it would be one thing if I was there next to you, but I’m not, so could you please just try to stay safe when I can’t reach you?” Y/n was taken about at how quick his tone went from annoyed to desperate. She furrowed her brows. Doux sighed, “Look, it frightens me, okay. I know that nothing will happen, but what if it does? I can’t- I can’t lose you.” His tone got even feebler in his pleading. “And there’s so many ways to lose you. Especially with the Order on our tails. Please, just give me this peace of mind for at least one thing.”

Y/n stepped away from the railing, crossing over to Douxie. He opened his arm and she nestled into his side. Pressing her head against his chest, she mumbled, “Absolutely. I’ll just—I’ll just stay here then. Next to you. I’m sorry I worried you. That was the last thing I wanted to do.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you, My Darling.”

~ ~ ~

The dipped down south to go through the top of Maryland and completely through Delaware to get to the south of New Jersey, in place of just going through Philadelphia. The city of brotherly love was not on the itinerary. Philly, and the top of New Jersey, were just too densely populated to take a magic boat through. The airspace was filled with airplanes and skyscrapers. It was easier to go the roundabout way.

As they passed between Philly and Lancaster, they went by fantastically named towns such as Paradise the city, where the girls are pretty, Bird In Hand, Blue Ball, and Intercourse. Stellar. Y/n was starting to really like Pennsylvania. It was cursed ground. She made sure to get photographic evidence of every road sign. Douxie was happy to pose with them.

They took a pit stop in a town called Peach Bottom before leaving Pennsylvania. Y/n wanted to go through New Texas, since she was curious how somewhere in the original colonies could be a new Texas, but Nari could sense a river nearby, and wanted to seek it out. Peach Bottom. It was a cozy little town with a power plant that was dumping it’s waste into the riverside it was built on. Toxic river. Fun. Y/n made Douxie explain to Nari why she couldn’t get near the river or touch any of the water. Y/n wouldn’t have been able to stay as calm as Douxie could. There was nothing happening in the rural Pennsylvanian town. Nothing special about it unless you counted their countless nuclear admissions. The locals didn’t care for strangers, and that was alright with them cause they didn’t want to be here for any more than necessary for a restroom break. Dinner could wait.

The top of Maryland was great. Lots of rivers to make it up to Nari. There was just, an incredibly large walmart near the line. Just absolutely humongous whopper walmart. A leach whose name doesn’t even deserve to be capitalized, thank you very much autocorrect.

It took less than half an hour to fly right through the top of Delaware. Hi Delaware, bye Delaware.

Soon they were on the coast of south New Jersey, headed for a sleepy town called Monty. Monty was a town along the Cohansey, split across it with quite an impressive bridge between the two sides. As soon as the bridge became visible on the skyline, Y/n grabbed Douxie’s sleeve and tugged excitedly. She looked up at him with a big smile. Rest. At last, they were going to get to rest. Y/n made herself busy calling Jim to let him know that they were there so he could call someone else to let them know that they were there and to wait by the entrance for them. Neither Douxie nor Y/n had a horngazzle on them at the moment. Y/n had had one in her possession back in Arcadia, being book club buddies with Blinky, but alas that was destroyed along with their bookstore.

They hid that damn magic boat in the forest. While they did plan on staying with the trolls for a few weeks, Douxie didn’t put it back in its glass bottle quite yet, cause they were in fact taking it into New York not tomorrow but the next day. He covered the ground around it with a few more wards than necessary. Y/n threw up an illusion spell around it, as she had been all the other times they’d just left it in the woods, and thought the wards were overkill but didn’t say anything. They started on the trek to the base of the bridge.

The troll at the entrance greeted them cordially. He was a dark green color, with two massive horns resembling those of a longhorn cow, chiseled stone tattoos, and no clothes other than a tiny loincloth which made everyone but Nari uncomfortable. He let them in with flourish, as if he’d always wanted to do this and practiced it.

“Welcome to NEW JERSEY TROLLMARKET.”

Y/n was surprised at how well the town had come along within the two months the trolls had occupied the cavern. It wasn’t the Trollmarket she had known, there was no Blinky and no library, but still marvelous. The new hearthstone glowed warmly, very much alive and not making zombies. While looking pretty similar to the old Trollmarket, with a multitude of shops and homes carved into the mineral covered walls and formations, there was a sort of human touch to it now. Claire definitely had a hand in the planning and maybe the decorative features too. Or perhaps Jim. Y/n wouldn’t put it past the boy to be the one who designed the very elaborate crystal art flower bed she was looking at. Or that weirdly steampunk bridge. Funny thing, a bridge under a bridge.

Dictatious met them soon after they came in to show them around and to where they would be staying. The tour he gave them basically just included him walking them through the main street, waving his arms to various places and vaguely saying that they were shops but not what they sold, pointing out the pub, and then took them straight to their accommodations. Since the home that had been occupied by Blinky, Jim, and Claire was now empty, they’d be staying there, with the place practically to themselves. Dictatious also lived in said home, but rarely stuck around it for long now that his brother was gone.

“Alright, here’s your nest.”

Since Dictatious still slept in the nest that he shared with Blinky, he had given them Jim and Claire’s. The nests were just rocky bowls carved into the floor of the room, with a few comfort items. Thankfully, Jim and Claire had left theirs full of pillows and a couple thick cushions they must have taken from a couch. Unconventional, but better than sleeping on literal solid rock. Speaking of couches, there were way too many couches spread across the apartment. This entire place only had two rooms, a large living area and a nestroom, and yet there were five couches. Not to mention the extra-large easy chair Dic was currently lounging in. Okay, so one of said couches was technically a love seat, but still. There was no kitchen, which was surprising due to this being Jim Lake Jr’s home, and no table besides the one that three of the sofas were gathered around and a paper-covered work desk against a corner. There were glowing crystal lamps all throughout, lighting the house. All in all, interesting interior design decisions. The kids had definitely been trying to make it a more homey human dwelling but had limited options.

Nari nestled into the nest, happy that there were no blankets to smother her. Not even a minute passed and she was out like a light. Douxie and Y/n sat on one of the couches in the nestroom, watching the veggie lady snooze. Archie made himself comfy in Douxie’s lap, who absent mindedly stroked his familiar’s fur. They were underground now. Surrounded by inorganic matter. Some of that inorganic matter could fight, would be willing to fight, would probably be disappointed if there wasn’t a fight. The little devil on Douxie’s shoulder wasn’t really having to work hard. His stomach growled. They had opted to just not stop for dinner in favor of plowing right through their trip route. It was late, and dark, and Douxie really just wanted them to have a roof over their head before midnight. And now they did.

He looked over at Y/n. They had been a couple for an entire day now and he had yet to take her on a proper date. What a bad boyfriend he was. It’s not like Archie would want to come with them or anything either, since he filled himself with birds that didn’t know what hit them while they traveled. The dragon had even caught a hawk at one point, which wasn’t as impressive as it sounds, since Archie was a much faster flyer. He would be happy to watch Nari for them, surely. And Dic had given them a horngazzle so they could come and go as they pleased. It was settled then.

“Arch, watch Nari for us, please, we’ll be back in a pinch,” He grabbed Y/n’s hand to pull her off the couch, “C’mon, My Love, we’re going on a date.”

~ ~ ~

Turns out the only thing open past midnight in small town New Jersey was a waffle house. The perfect date. Y/n had thought it funny to watch Douxie try and deactivate all the fresh wards he had put around the boat. He had to be careful where he put his feet, and it was like he was doing a silly little dance. Ward trap ballet of his own barely thought-out design. At one point he stepped backwards to admire his work, triggering the ward behind him, and Y/n had to free him from the net. Lucky it was just a net one.

Entering the waffle house, they slid into the nearest booth, the one near the jukebox. They ordered what else but waffles. The food of kings and hungover college kids. Not just plain waffles, though. Douxie got chocolate chip and Y/ got strawberry, and they were going to combine them to make chocolate covered strawberry waffles. Everyone knows chocolate covered strawberries were the most romantic food, why else would they push them so hard around Valentine’s.

Douxie leaned in with his head in his hand. “So, tell me about yourself.”

Y/n laughed, decided to play into this bit. “Oh, I’m just a California lass, on her way to New York. Things have been crazy lately. Went to a very convincing renaissance faire, I’m harboring a fugitive, my roommate keeps hitting on me. Very stressful. Sure am lucky I came across you, Mr. Handsome.”

“Lucky indeed.” Doux snickered.

Y/n pointed to the jukebox behind Doux, which he twisted around to see. “Have you ever heard ‘Last Night I Saw Elvis At Waffle House’?”

“No?”

“Oh, it’s a banger.” She got out of the booth and put a coin in the juke, making her selection. She slid back in with a Cheshire cat grin and Doux was kind of scared now, actually. As the current song ended and the song that they were waiting for began. Well, it was a song. About seeing Elvis in a waffle house. With a country tune he supposed someone thought was catchy in order for them to have recorded this. Douxie didn’t know what he had expected.

“Uh, wow.”

“Yeah, Ain’t it something. I loved this song when I was knee high to a grasshopper. All the waffle house jams really.”

“Your aunt let someone bring you to a waffle house? That’s not very proper.” Douxie chuckled.

“Oh, no, actually. Um, this was before my dad passed and my mother, ah, slipped.”

“Oh.”

��Yeah.”

Douxie rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

“No, no. I’m fine Dewdrop. I can talk about it, really. And, like you said the other day, I’ve been focusing on the Now Love.” The silly waffle house themed song was still playing despite the air of seriousness that had fallen over the duo. It helped keep Y/n from getting too sad and dwelling on the memories she had just brought up. It was comical, really. A waffle house song keeping her grounded. She rubbed the palm of Douxie’s hand. “I still mourn my family, but it’s been so long that the pain’s but a dull ache now. As long as I don’t think too hard about it. If anyone knows about mourning it’d be you, Doux. I can’t imagine meeting hundreds of friends over my lifetime just to watch them all grow old and die while you just have to go on living.” She paused, eyes drifting downwards, “But I suppose that’ll be my fate anyways.”

Douxie reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s actually not that bad, once you get used to it. You just have to enjoy every bit of time you get. That’s what makes other magic friends so valuable, there are some permanent players on your team.” He let his hand linger under her jaw, pulling her face closer to his, “You have me. We have each other. We’re family. We always have been.”

“So I hate to interrupt, but, waffles.” The server put the plates she had been holding down onto the table. Douxie and Y/n pulled away from each other quick as lightning, sitting up straight in their seats. “Again, sorry guys.”

“Thank you.” The two chorused to their fleeting form in embarrassment. Their faces were fire engine red. Archie was right, they did get a little carried away with the pda. It may have been 12:28am in a waffle house but they were still in public. Grabby hands needed to be kept to themselves.

After dinner, neither Doux nor Y/n could bring themselves to go home quite yet, despite the nagging feeling to return to Nari. They loitered around woods, unsure of what to do. Leaning against the parked boat, Douxie got an idea. He put on the music on his phone, turning the volume all the way up and positioning it so it’d put out a better sound the best he could. The playlist he selected was actually the one he had of songs that reminded him of his beloved. Copying what Y/n had done last night, he held out his hand.

“Come on, dance with me, My Darling.”

Douxie twirled Y/n around in the night breeze that blew through the trees. This song was much faster than the one they danced to last time, and there was more energy between them. Y/n’s laugh echoed through the forest. This was a lot of fun, she could do it all night. Honestly, she could do anything all night if it was with Douxie. He lifted her up, like she weighed nothing. Seriously, how strong was this noodle armed wizard. She threw her arms around his neck, looking down to meet his eyes, a rare thing. Y/n kissed his nose, eliciting a happy giggle from his mouth.

He should have put her back down by now. Instead, he still held her up, transfixed by her face ringed in moonlight, like a halo. She noticed the awestruck look on his face, kissing him properly, yet it did nothing to pull him out of his stupor. He had one thought running over and over in his mind. Marry me. But, he couldn’t say that. A proposal had to be special, not after a waffle house date. Their first date, mind you. He couldn’t possibly jus-

“Marry me, Dewdrop?”

Well apparently he couldn’t but she absolutely could.

It took him a moment to take in her words, shocked out of his overthinking. The biggest grin spread across his face as he giddily spun her around in his arms. He finally put her feet back on the ground, crashing his lips into hers. Y/n brought a hand up to drag through his hair and left the other to slide down his back. No battle for dominance, Douxie’s tongue was definitely the one leading here. He just couldn’t believe it. It was if she had read his mind. It was still hard for him to believe she wanted him in the first place, but this much? If this was the afterlife he must surely be in heaven. One makeout session later, Y/n rasped “So I’m guessing that’s a yes?”

“Let’s sign the papers tomorrow.”

~ ~ ~

Despite the uneasy feeling they had both had about leaving Nari alone for so long, she was perfectly fine. In fact she hadn’t even moved an inch form the spot they left her in. Like they never left at all. Archie was asleep on that couch, as peaceful as ever. They’d tell him the news in the morning.

Y/n climbed into the nest and dragged Douxie down with her. After getting comfy on the array of cushions, he opened his arms and she nestled into his chest. She could feel his hands rest on her back. Perfect. It was calming, listening to his heartbeat, being lulled to sleep with the rhythm that gave proof that her beloved was alive. A steady beat that reassured her he was there, he was there. He wouldn’t leave her again.

*** check notes for chapter illustrations lmao

#douxie x reader #douxie x y/n #hisirdoux casperan x reader #hisirdoux x reader #douxie casperan x reader #douxie imagine #douxie casperan imagine #hisirdoux casperan imagine #hisirdoux imagine #tales of arcadia x reader #douxie #toa douxie #hisirdoux casperan #toa hisirdoux #douxie casperan #my writing

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vesuvian-american-fics · 4 years ago

Text

better with time. Ch 11

the end of the beginning.

You looked forward to a trip abroad, you share one last meal with your family before your life would change forever. (AO3)

Words: 1,836

Falling.

You were falling really fast. Your breath was caught in your throat. The air was hot and scorching. Microscopic beads of sand stuck into your lungs. When you finally opened your eyes a bed of sand that went on for as far as the eyes could see was surging up to meet you head on.

You shielded your face and that was it. For a moment. In the next moment you were waking up in bed. You were home. Your weary father woke you from your deep sleep.

“Wakey wakey deary! Don’t sleep in again Y/N. Today’s a special day, up up!” He cheered, his voice was raspy, his posture was bad from a long life of work to support you and your younger siblings.

“Where am I? Papa?” You asked weakly, the words feeling foreign on your tongue, but not so out of place. Your father gave a hearty laugh, he was a large man, with big rough hands almost always with a coating of soot on the from his job in the coal mines of... you don’t know where you are yet.

“Must be some dream you were having, deary. Get dressed now and come downstairs for some oats for breakfast! The good kind! The kind you loved since you were a baby!” He smiled, a slight wheeze to his voice. Although you could tell your father had a hard life, he was always happy at home. Never letting it be known how tired he really was.

You couldn’t help but find yourself smiling to him, a renewed energy surging through you and getting you up and out of bed.

“I-I’ll be down in a minute Papa!” You shouted after him down the stairs. You were happy, really happy. You felt like you had just been away for a really long time and now you were finally back where you were meant to be. Back home with Papa, your sisters and brother. You remember now that Mother passed away just a few years ago but you had come to peace with that in time. She passed peacefully in her sleep; you were told at the hospital.

After dressing yourself in the clothes that had been left out for you, you skipped down the stairs. Four smaller kids rushed you and squeezed you tightly.

“Y/N! We really miss you!” They shouted in unison, you recognize them at your three younger sisters and your baby brother.

“Huh? But I’ve always been here.” You commented, patting the children atop their heads. They didn’t respond except for giving you one last long squeeze. They felt desperate, clinging a bit longer than what was comfortable for you but you dismissed it as silly child’s play.

You father gave you a big hug as well, picking you up off of your feet before placing you in your seat at the table. The seat you sat in your whole life, you recognized everything you saw. The quilt your mother had sewn, the rusty oven your father loved to overuse, the bowtie around your brother’s neck, every little thing. However, it was as if everything not within your direct line of view simply didn’t exist. You couldn’t remember it, you couldn’t comprehend it, you couldn’t attempt to imagine it if you wanted. It only existed if you saw it. How odd.

“Well Papa, what’s so special about today?” You asked between spoon fulls of your morning oats.

“You hit your head or something? You had been yappin’ about this day for months now! You were one of the Eldian’s chosen to go get on that big ship abroad to a neighboring country! Today’s the day!” He hooted, dropping a heavy plate stacked high with freshly buttered rolls from the oven.

From this moment on you were on autopilot. No longer in control of your actions, you were in the passenger seat of your own existence, only allowed the privilege to see what happens.

“Oh, I can’t wait! I didn’t want to be stuck here forever! No offense Papa, but you know I’ve dreamt of leaving and exploring new things!” You squealed. Right on time, the first horn was blown on the ship announcing the first-class boarding. You gasped and hopped to your feet.

“Obviously that horn isn’t for me but, Papa, I’ve got to get going I don’t want to be late!” You declared, scooping your siblings up into your arms for one last hug. You pecked your father’s cheek with a feather light kiss before grabbing your packed bags and dashing out the door.

There was a flash of regret across your father’s features, but not one the old you noticed in that moment. The you of today, whenever today was, wanted to stop and ask why he looked so troubled. Torn like he didn’t want you to go, but beyond that of missing one’s child off to a trip abroad. A look of dread stricken across his features. Lack of color to his skin, excess sweat beading to his brow and thick tears already spilling over his cheeks.

It sent chills through you.

The next time you opened your eyes you were on a ship, still excited, only a little concerned about the conditions you were being kept in. You hadn't seen your bags since you had boarded the ship. They were quickly taken away by military staff as you were rushed off to where you’d be staying. That was three days ago already. Your room was filled with other girls about your ages. They seemed troubled, they kept quiet only speaking when spoken to. You brushed off the thoughts screaming to you that something was very wrong.

You were Eldian, you knew your conditions wouldn't be pristine in comparison to... the other people. You can’t remember what they’re called for some reason. Let alone the fact that you can’t remember what makes you so different from them. But these were the times you were born into. You can’t change it.

Another two days passed and finally the door to your holding area was opened. You were no longer excited. Only afraid. You don’t know where you are, or why it took so long to get here. Why you hadn’t been able to change clothes in five days and why you hadn’t been offered food for the last day and a half. The other girls were crying now, and had been for a long time that it was starting to make you tear up as well.

“You! With me...” A masked man said as he stomped towards you grabbing you roughly by the arm and dragging you out of the ship and above deck. You were blindfolded and another set of hands dragged you somewhere.

The air was hot and scorching. Microscopic beads of sand were stuck into your lungs. Your blindfold was ripped off and as your eyes adjusted painfully to the change in light your heart jumped into your throat.

“Where am I?” You cried out; your questions were ignored. Instead, you were answered to a sharp pain in your upper arm, a large syringe imbedded into your skin. You cried uncontrollably until you couldn’t manage your breathing. To your right you heard a man's wales echoing, you looked to where the noise was coming from and what you saw made your heart freeze. Everything froze. The man was roughly kicked over the edge of this giant wall down to the desert below.

Then the next man, then a woman, then your neighbor from back home. Next was a child you had recognized from always selling newspapers by the shops back in town. Many more people were kicked from the wall. Screaming, crying, sobbing, puking as they fell.

You were next.

A horrifying man stood before you, a scowl ever-present on his face. You could feel the hatred oozing off of him like a sticky ink and you felt your stomach wretch from the dread that settled deep in there.

You began to shake violently, trying to fight free of the men holding you in place, to run, far far away from this place and never turn back. You were afraid. You were hyperventilating, your face hot and wet from the continuous rivulet of tears streaming from your eyes.

The man was quick, his hand snapped up to grab you harshly by the face, keeping you still.

“I recognize this one. Remember, few years ago? W-what was the name...uhhh. What’s your last name kid?” He asked, his voice was deep and smooth. It sickened you how he was talking so comfortably to you as if he weren't just about to kick you from this wall that was however many meters tall. As much as you wanted to ignore him, your fear won the battle and obediently you answered his question.

“Yeah, yeah! Few years ago, your mom was here! Ha! See I told you I recognized this one, looks just like her old bat of a mom.” The two men laughed in your face as the realization settled in you.

“W-what.... no? No! My mom died in the hospital! You’re lying!!!” You screamed and spat at the two men. Your insolence wasn’t tolerated, and the man in charge punched you harshly in the head.

“Yes, she was! Your mom was on the first batch out here and now it's your turn, and then the rest of your family if we’re lucky, there’s too many of ya.” The men began to laugh again. The two holding you down finally loosened their grip on your shoulders and before you knew it, there was a harsh kick to your back.

Falling.

You were falling really fast. You closed your eyes as you felt your stomach leap as you became weightless. You don’t know how much time passed before you opened your eyes. But a bed of sand that went on for as far as the eyes could see was surging up to meet you head on.

You shielded your face and that was it. For a moment. In the next moment you were coughing violently. Your whole body was sore.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Hange shouted as they cradled your head on their sturdy lap.

Levi sheathed his swords back where they belonged. He was sure you were turning into a titan when a huge cloud of steam surrounded you. However, just as he and Hange made it through the fog you were collapsed and foaming from your mouth after having a particularly violent seizure.

“Papa...” you gargled as your face twisted in pain. Levi frowned, you sounded so weak and... sad. He sighed before calling the horses around and getting you set up securely in the carriage with Hange. The three of you rushed back towards the base where the proper infirmary that you have become so acquainted to was waiting for you.

“You better wake up, you... and explain yourself damnit...” Levi grunted to himself as he pushed his trusted horse as hard as he could towards the horizon.

#better with time.#levi ackerman #Levi #levi x reader #aot #snk #attack on titan #fic #hange

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hotsayce · 4 years ago

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The Lake

NCT fanfic - 3.4k - Gender Neutral- A group of friends go to their nearby lake to hang out:)

Warnings: Drowning is mentioned but don't worry! No one actually drowns, the narrator just can't swim and is scared. Sex is also mentioned. Alcohol.

Author's Note: This is written in first person but the narrator is referred to as Y/N. Johnny and Ten aren't THAT important in the story, it's mostly the narrator and Mark.

~~~

It was almost time.

My friends and I were getting ready to go to the lake for a celebration.

Though the only thing worth celebrating was that Mark was finally graduating high school. He was the baby of our group. Ten and I were both 20, Johnny was 22 and Mark was just 18. We all started being friends in high school, I met Ten in dance class and Johnny in chorus my freshman year. We adopted Mark during my junior year though. We noticed some random kid sitting alone at lunch most every day. Nothing wrong with that, I myself sat alone sometimes during my freshman year. But this was different. Another group of kids began to sit with him, we thought he finally found his crowd. Until one week, Mark's little table was empty. We just assumed he was sick or something, until it lasted the whole week. We didn't have any classes with him and we had never spoken to him so there was no way to know what happened. The next Monday, Johnny just so happened to stop by the bathroom during lunch and saw poor Mark sitting on the (disgusting) bathroom floor, crying and eating alone. Then he brought him to sit with us. The rest is history.

Not really, I've never had a history class with any of them.

But that brings us to tonight, I am just about to open the door to leave my dorm room when my roommate asks, "Where are you going?"

Dangn't. I had been trying my best not to wake them up but I failed. Like always.

"Just out with some friends." I answer in the most calm way possible.

Adrian isn’t a snitch or anything, I just don’t want them knowing my business. We were never really that close.

"Okay," They roll back over in their bunkbed, facing the wall.

I almost slip out of the door when they ask, "What time will you be back?"

"Before 5."

They roll over again. "Okay, just be more quiet when you sneak back in please."

They must be referring to the time I came in at 6 A.M. and my morning alarm started blaring. I kept trying to push the off button but my screen was too cracked for me to press it. They'll never let me live that down.

I slip out of the door and am on my way to the bathroom. I don’t need to think of a plan to get out or anything, my Resident Advisor doesn’t care if we leave during the night. Ten wouldn't have such an easy time though, I hear the advisor at his dorm is more strict.

I finally step outside of my building only to notice that Ten beat me here.

"How'd you get past your RA?"

He laughs. "It's easy to reason with someone you've slept with."

"Gross." I shove him to the side. Not gross, quite cool actually. I was very jealous. Ten's RA was drop dead gorgeous and the amount of times I asked him if I could sleep over to see if they'd stop by his room is far too many to count.

We were on our way to Johnny's place to go chill at the lake behind his house. He went to the same college as Ten and I but he lived at home with his parents. I would too if they were as loaded as his family, not to mention they live pretty close to school. A walk was only 35 minutes away which never seemed like much if you walked with other people.

Walking to Johnny's was normally silent when I went by myself but that was never the case with Ten. He always had some cool college story to tell, we were both juniors but his experience seemed much more interesting that mine. Whether he was spilling gossip about the dance team or who he'd been flirting with during his most recent seminar, it was always something eventful.

"What college do you think Mark will choose?" Ten asks.

Woah. That's a much different direction from where he normally goes.

"Why such a somber question to start the night? (morning actually) I wanna know if anything new has happened between Veronica and Tamika?" I try changing the subject. Veronica and Tamika were two girls in his dance class who had supposedly been best friends since their freshman year. Everyone knew they liked each other but neither of them had ever asked the other out.

"Seriously Y/N. What if he doesn't come to our school?"

"Well," I normally try not to think about what would happen if Mark left the country for college. "Then we'll video chat with him every week and text him all the time and he'll come home each summer."

Ten doesn’t look at me but I know that this is eating him up.

It'd been eating all of us up. Johnny, Ten, and I had all gone to GC State for our own separate reasons and we were hoping Mark would too but he had his eyes set on an arts school in Vancouver. He was born in Canada so it would mean so much to him to move back there for college but he didn't want to leave his friends (us).

"I just don't want us to split up. We were gonna be his older college buddies." It was dark out but I could still see the frown on Ten's face.

I put my arm around his shoulder. "He still has about a month left, we don't know what he's going to pick. And whichever school he does choose, we'll support him."

Ten sighs. "I guess your right. We don't where he'll go yet but we have to be happy for him."

I nod my head and continue walking beside him.

"Oh and Ica-Ika is never gonna work out." 'Ica-Ika' was a cute ship name Ten and I made for Veronica and Tamika. "Imagine being a senior in college and still being too nervous to confess to your crush."

I raise my eyebrow at him. "You're one to talk."

"Look. I've got one more year. Quit rushing me."

I laugh at Ten. He's had a crush on Johnny since high school but has never told him. At this rate he never will.

~~~

We finally arrive at Johnny's house. He has that type of house that you have to drive down to since it's off by itself. The three story ones with the huge yards. The house where everybody wants to be and where all the parties were. Not to mention the lake in the back. I was surprised when I found out that Johnny was an only child. Why would their family need such a big house if there were just 3 of them? But it's not my place to judge what other people do with their hard earned money.

Johnny's car is the only one in the driveway so his parents aren't home. Ten and I don't bother walking through the front door, we walk straight to the back and find Mark sitting in a lawn chair and Johnny standing right beside him.

Johnny had always taken a liking to Mark ever since he found him in the bathroom. Not in the cliché high school relationship type of way though, Johnny was not a creepy senior guy on the varsity football team and Mark was not an innocent freshman girl who had 'developed' over the summer. They were 4 years apart but the way they act, you'd think they were the exact same age. Except they don't look the same age. Johnny was tall (a giant really) with long brown hair. Between his extroverted personality and his beefy arms, he had all the girls, guys, and honestly anyone with eyes after him. Mark was... not like Johnny. He was much smaller with short black hair and I'm sure people would be after him if he wasn't so darn oblivious to everyone who wants him. It's like he was waiting for someone special to come along and ask him out but who knows when that will happen?

"You're finally here!" Johnny turned at the sound of our footsteps and came up to hug us. He always gave great hugs.

"Now the party can start!" I say while Ten and Johnny hug for a second too long.

Mark gets up to hug us as well and we make our way to the lake, although he lingers to walk beside me instead of with Johnny and Ten.

~~~

"Have you decided which college you're going to yet?" I glare at Ten from my chair and Johnny does the same.

"You haven't even gotten him to drink yet and you're already asking him important questions? What am I teaching you Ten?" Johnny takes another swig of his own glass of wine. He's the only person who would bring fancy glasses and expensive wine to hang out at the lake with his friends at 3 A.M.

"I can't drink yet Johnny." Mark says.

Johnny winks at him. "Riiight."

I laugh as I drink from my own glass. "There's no rush in your decision Mark. We'll be happy with whatever you choose."

Everyone was silent as we all thought about what Mark's decision would be. Our guess was as good as his.

"C'mon guys no being sad at our celebration." Johnny jumps up from his seat. "To the lake!"

He begins walking to the lake, Ten close on his heels cheering. I get up from my seat to follow them but notice Mark still sulking in his chair. He must still be thinking about college. No doubt he has exams soon, he has this big decision to add on top of it all.

I walk over to Mark and grab his hand, motioning for him to walk with us.

When we get to the lake, the rest of the guys rid themselves of their shirts while Mark keeps his on. I opt to keep my shirt on as well, I don't plan on swimming today.

"You're not gonna swim?" Mark takes his shoes off, preparing to get in the water.

"No, not today." I sit down on the dock and stick my feet in the cool water.

Instead of getting in the water like Ten and Johnny, Mark sits down beside me. "I won't swim either then."

There's no use in telling him to go ahead and swim. He hates for any one of us to be left out so he'll stay with me no matter how much I protest.

The sadness in Mark's eyes from earlier disappears once he looks at the lake. His expression when he looks at the water makes it seem like he's never seen a lake like this before. He's always loved coming here. Johnny would sometimes pick him up after school when he had the time so they could just sit here at the lake and talk about anything. It was like his safe place. He wouldn't have the lake in Vancouver.

"Were you being serious earlier?" The reflection of the moon is still in his eyes but the sadness is back.

"Serious about what?" I say as I flick my feet in the water.

"When you guys said you'd support me. No matter what college I go to. You won't leave like-"

"No Mark," I stop him before he can even finish. "We won't leave you. It doesn't matter how far we are, we'll always be friends okay?"

He doesn't say anything but I know he understands. Ever since those kids ditched him in high school, he's had trust issues about people leaving him. There were so many people that tried to be friends with him but he always pushed them away because he thought they'd do the same. Sure he talks to some people at school, but his only real friends are all in college. I can't imagine how lonely that must feel.

I try to lighten the mood. "Hey Buddy," I say jokingly.

"Oh no, not buddy."

I place my arms around Mark's shoulders. "You know you're getting older and your life is changing..."

He then rips my arm from his shoulder laughing, "What is this?"

I grab his arm once again. "I'm just trying to tell you about college because you're a growing boy."

"Are you trying to give me the talk? Because I've had it before."

I turn and face him. "You've had sex before?!"

"What no! I meant the talk!"

I sigh out of relief. "Phew. Good. I couldn't believe you had never told me."

We both laugh until it gets quiet.

"You never told me whether you've had sex before."

He was not wrong. Johnny and Ten talked about their 'partners' all the time but I've never mentioned it because I've never been with anyone like that. I've always been waiting for the right time but it was really just me being cautious and refusing to have my first time in a cramped college dorm. No one (near my age) had caught my interest and, unfortunately, Johnny never volunteered so I've just been saving myself up I guess.

"That is correct." I don't know what Mark is getting at but I just keep letting him talk.

"Well do you thin-"

Before he can finish his sentence, I feel a splash of water hit me. Ten and Johnny float in the water in front of us with two big grins on their faces.

"Hey spoilsports, come swim with us." Johnny hits us with another splash and Mark jumps in to go play with them. Thank God. I was not about to let Mark down and tell him that I won't have sex with him during his last year of high school. There is nothing wrong with Mark except for how he is basically still a child and as (or even more) inexperienced as I am.

The guys stay near my area so I can still splash them from sitting down. Except it's mostly them cheating because whenever I throw water at them, they just duck under the surface whereas I have to stay up here and get wet.

By the time we're done, I'm soaking wet and Ten and Johnny have swam out again. Mark almost joins them but swims back to me.

"How come you aren't swimming with us?"

The word 'swim' is incorrect in this situation. He knows I can't swim. Normally, when we go to the lake, I lazy around in a floatie but I just don't feel like it right now.

"Mark, you know I can't swim."

"Well yeah," He flips his hair back and unintentionally sprays me with more water. "But we all can."

I'm sorry. I think he's failed to understand the concept of 'me not being able to swim = me drowning.'

Before I can inform him of that, Johnny and Ten come swimming towards us with a weird look in their eyes. When they get up on the dock, they shake their hair out as well, getting me wet again and then Johnny grabs Ten's hand and begins leading him back to the house.

"Where are you two going?" I question and they just giggle.

"Johnny wants to show me his room." Ten smiles up at the older and they're still walking away from us.

Mark calls out after them, "But we've all already seen his room!" They keep laughing, hand in hand, walking back to the house to do who knows what except we all know exactly what they're doing and I curse them in my head for setting up such a venereal tone in the air.

"What are they doing?" Mark looks up at me with the most oblivious look in his eyes.

"Sex."

"Gross."

Again, not gross. Very jealous.

I wish the moonlight and calm lake were not making the environment so romantic right now. Not to mention the text from Ten that says, 'Don't bother us. Go bang Mark :)'

Although that sounds very tempting, I will not be a senior in high school's, first time. Or let him be my first time.

"I can hold you if you're still afraid of swimming." Mark's quiet voice interrupts my thoughts.

"What?"

"We were talking about swimming earlier. If you're okay with it, I can just hold you in the water. I won't let go."

I get another text from Ten. 'Don't see any banging yet :(' I look up to the window of Johnny's bedroom and see a silhouette of them standing there. Mark waves at them and I can't see that far but I can tell that they're smiling before they close the curtain.

I put my phone away and respond to Mark. "It's really okay. You don't have to do that."

He moves from leaning on the dock beside me to being right in front of me, laying his hands on my knees.

"I pinky promise you'll be safe. Please swim with me."

Once again, the reflection of the moon does me dirty, illuminating the sincerity in Mark's eyes. I can't say no. (I absolutely could but I won't)

I take a deep breath. "Okay." I don't bother removing my shirt since he didn't either. Mark places his hands lightly around my waist and begins pulling me down into the water.

"Don't drop me." I say. I've done this before but with Johnny and he's much bigger and stronger than Mark so I can't say that I'm not a little worried he won't be able to carry me.

Mark just smiles and pulls me down until I'm no longer on the dock.

My first instinct is to immediately flail because I believe I will sink all the way to the bottom of the lake but Mark's grip on me tightens, obviously noticing how my body tensed up when I got into the water.

"I got you." He doesn't let me go as promised and we stay close to the dock, my back against the wood.

"See. All safe."

Being in the water isn't as scary as I thought it would be. I'm glad Mark is here with me. And I'm glad that we didn't leave the dock, giving me the option to change my mind and climb back up if I want to.

"What are you thinking?" He asks.

I haven't spoken since I got in the water. Maybe it's the calmness of the lake itself or the fact that Mark is holding me, but I can't think of anything to say.

"Nothing really." I feel the urge to wrap my legs around Mark's waist but I fight against it.

"Well I'm thinking of us."

I smile, staring at the moon. "Yeah. I really enjoy hanging out at the lake with you guys every once in a while.

"No Y/N." I look over at him. "I mean us. This."

I shake my head. There's always been something between us but it was so minute that we never spoke of it. "There is no this Mark. You know that. We both know that."

"Do we really?"

The water around us seems so still. The only movement is from our too close together chests, rising and falling at the same time. My eyes drift to his lips and I can't help but wonder how they would feel against my own.

Mark notices me staring, closes his eyes, and leans in but right when our lips almost touch, I turn my head to the side. His lips graze my cheek which is better than nothing I suppose. As much as my heart wants to, I cannot kiss him and add on to the already long list of reasons he would rather stay here than go to Vancouver. A kiss would only hold him back even more and I know how much he wants to leave.

"I'm sorry Mark." I lean my head into the nook of his neck hoping he won't push me away after what I just did. I don't want this to be awkward but I tighten my grip on his shoulders, not wanting to rid myself of his touch just yet.

"I understand." I want him to pull my face back up and tell me all the thoughts he's had about us. I want him to try to kiss me again, and this time I may kiss him right back. But he doesn't. Instead, his hold on my waist never loosens or falters even though I know his arms and whole body must be tired from swimming for so long.

I hope what we have won't falter either.

~~~

Sometimes when Mark calls me and I hear everything he's been doing and everyone he's been talking to, I wish I would've kissed him back at the lake. The people in Vancouver sound really pretty. And he always sounds really happy. What would've changed if I did kiss him? Maybe he would have went to college here and then we could be a cute couple like Ten and Johnny. But there's no telling what would happen. I just know that I'll always have a best friend halfway across the world.

But hey, there's always summer break.

8 notes · View notes

lovely-bangtan7 · 4 years ago

Text

JJK | Cold Heart (1)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fairy tale, Frozen!Au, IceQueen!Au, lumberjack!Jungkook; bestfriend!Jungkook, IceQueen!Reader,

Warnings: Mentions of blood & injuries, Mentions of anxiety

Words: 5,8k

A/N: Hello loves! I am starting a mini series with our beloved maknae! This was originally supposed to be posted on another account of mine and a friend, but this one is not active anymore, so I decided to post it on my personal account. If you question if this was stolen, it isn’t! I wrote it on my own back then, the account was only shared! I really hope you guys will like it! Happy reading <3

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | next chapter >>

You were never able to even dream such a situation like you were in now. You never wanted to hurt anyone, you always wanted your people, especially him to be safe from you. It was like your worst nightmare came true and unfortunately, it did. Your whole world was shattered into many pieces, seeing his cold eyes staring at you, wide open and in fear. He wanted to protect you from the man that tried to kill you and you wanted him to kill you so that this spell would finally leave your kingdom. But Jungkook couldn't let this man kill you, the queen of Arendelle, the girl that he knows since he was born. “Jungk-..kookie..” You whispered, your ice cold hands touching his figure completely covered in blood.

And the one who did this to him was you yourself. Again.

You were destined to be the Queen of Arendelle from the second you entered this world. Being the only child of the King and the Queen, a beautiful and charming princess with a power that no other human was gifted with. People would say that your power was a blessing from the god’s, but as the years went by and the older you got, these powers turned into a deadly and yet beautiful weapon.

It was a beautiful spring day, many years ago, the flowers were coming to life, the green leaves painting the world of Arendelle in a bright green and the sun warming the air up, the winter was coming to an end. But not for you and not for Jungkook. Winter was the season you loved the most not only because you were part of the ice cold weather, the snow and the ice, but it was the time where you could play with Jungkook without any worries. But the winter eventually came to an end and spring took over the country, this actually didn't stop you and Jungkook from having your adventures.

You both were running around the fields with no destination, laughing and playing around like children do. “Hey, y/n let’s build a snowman!” Said Jungkook randomly with a huge smile on his face. You came to a halt, catching your breath and thinking about his idea. You weren't completely sure if this was a good idea, but you saw his toothy smile. Jungkook was always amazed at your powers and loved it when you used them, it fascinated him and made him always happy.

Shaking your head you moved your hands and the blue colour appeared around them, the cold slowly embracing your small hands. Snow began to form in them and seconds later the ground was covered in shiny white and fluffy snow. Jungkook started to laugh and immediately formed a snowball in his hands, you joined him right after. It didn't take you long to build a snowman, but the warm sun made the snowman melt.

“We need more snow, y/n!” Without thinking you did as said and more Snow appeared on the ground, while Jungkook shouted ‘more’ in excitement. You went with the flow, letting snow and ice appear everywhere. Jungkook was now running around kicking the snow, forming snowballs and throwing them away as you tried to make more snow, but soon a weird feeling grew up in your stomach.

“More! Make more snow!” You slowly felt pressure coming from Jungkook. He couldn’t have enough of the snow and you felt unsure by that.

“No, that’s enough!” You told him but he didn't drop it so soon and grabbed your hands. “Jungkook! That’s enough, go away or I will-”, you couldn't finish your sentence due to the Ice, that formed in your hands and hit Jungkook. The boy flew back and didn't move a bit. You let out a shriek and cried for help, a few guards that were in the same area, watching you from afar came to help, but the ground was covered with ice. The guards slipped yet still tried to get to you and help you with whatever was wrong. You noticed a red liquid coming from Jungkook’s head, it wasn't a lot, just a few drops but enough to set you in complete panic.

The guards helped you and Jungkook up and brought him to the palace’s doctor, who confirmed that the ice didn't hit Jungkook’s body, only the hit on the ground and injured him. You felt endlessly guilty for what you did to Jungkook for not being able to control himself.

After he woke up, he told you that it wasn't your fault. He said that it was his own fault, that he shouldn't have pressured you to make more. He promised you that he won’t do it ever again. He told you that he will protect you now after he saw how dangerous your powers are, he wants to protect you from other people and from yourself. He promised you.

But days after the incident, after your parents heard about what happened in the field, they thought that it would be dangerous to let you play with other children. It could happen that more accidents like these could happen, after all, you could kill someone. Your parents forbid you from interacting with other children, especially Jungkook.

“You are not allowed to talk or play with him, he will never walk in this palace ever again!”

You felt like the deadliest monster. A monster that could destroy the whole world if it wanted to. You haven't seen Jungkook, your only friend, ever again. You didn't know if he was still in town or if his family was forced to leave.

Years of being isolated in the castle went by. You quickly learned to be alone for most of the time. Your days were either filled with studies or being in your room, staring out of the window and watching the world growing older and older.

A few years later your parents had to leave the country due to some business overseas. The only people who you could talk to without any borders had to leave you and you felt anxious at the thought of it. It meant that you would be completely alone from now on.

You hugged your parents tightly as a goodbye, wishing them a good journey. “Tell me everything when you come back in three weeks, okay?” But if only you would know that your parents would never come home.

It was said that pirates attacked, robbed and killed the royals ship, it took one survivor almost 2 months to come back and tell you and everyone who lived in the castle. By that time everyone, including you, were already grieving the loss of the king and the queen. After 5 weeks without any letter coming from your parents, everyone knew that they passed away. A big depression came over your country, the people living in the town were grieving for a long time.

You had the most difficult time. You felt empty without your parents, you were alone. Overwhelmed by the situation, the preparations for you becoming the queen started too quick for you. The fear inside you grew stronger and stronger each day and there were many moments where you couldn't control your powers. You were a complete mess in that time and no one knew how to help you, but they tried their best to help you in every possible way but without forgetting that you will be the queen soon.

Years later you were ready to become the queen, by the age of 21 years. Your coronation will be soon, in a few days to be exact. A lot of things have changed and you changed the most.

However Jungkook did change too. Meanwhile of your horrible experiences, he grew into a handsome and capable man, tall, strong with a kind heart. After being banned from the Castle, he suddenly had no work, no place that he could call home, neither did he have a family - they died years ago from the disease that spread around the kingdom - he was all alone.

Luckily the lumberjack of the town had found him in an alley, freezing, hungry and abandoned. He immediately brought him to his home, gave him warm food and clothes. “Boy, what were you doing outside during this time? You could have freezed yourself to death!” He scolded him but still with a soft voice. The lumberjack had no family either - no wife and no children. He was already an elder, the wrinkles heavily evident around his eyes and forehead. “I never really had time for such things, I… I guess work was always much more important to me.” Soon Jungkook had learned how really important it was for him. He chopped wood for many hours of the day, from the morning until the sun would set down. It was a simple task that required much strong muscles. Muscles harder than timber, but with a soft heart.

Jungkook was determined to help the lumberjack, he owed that to him for saving his life. He was a quick learner, a good student to his teacher. It took him just a few days to perfect the technique of chopping wood, the fastest way with lots of profit. The lumberjack was endlessly thankful to the young man.

“Son, I don’t think you ever told me where you lived before I found you.” He suddenly asked during supper. Jungkook never wanted to talk about his past with you in the castle. His heart never broke this much, knowing he wasn’t allowed to be with you anymore. He didn’t blame you, he blamed himself though. He knew that he was at fault, he shouldn’t have pressured you and so, if he was a little more smarter back then he still would have been by your side. “I remember you were hungry, but you didn’t look starved.”

The old man looked at Jungkook, curiosity lingered on his face. He always respected Jungkook’s privacy but this was a mystery he could never solve on his own. The only way to know was to ask.

But Jungkook didn’t know how to answer, just the mere thought of you -his best friend- made his heart ache in agony. His face fell, he could only imagine how alone you must be right now, how hurt and how scared. It’s been years since the king and queen passed away and Jungkook remembers hearing about their death. He just wanted to storm inside the castle, run straight into your room and take you in his arms. He hated that he couldn’t be with you during the lowest point of your life.

More thoughts of you flooded his mind, intoxicating his heart with hate for himself, cravings of you, tainting his heart black.

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It was impolite and indelicate.” Jungkook shook his head, signaling his teacher that he did nothing wrong.

“No, it’s okay. I just..” He had to swallow a huge knot in his throat. “I don’t know how to explain. Back then I made a mistake and lost my only friend and home. I mean, my previous home.” He quickly added, his home was here now. The small cottage outside the town in the wood land. The years he spent with the old lumberjack, made him grow incredibly close. He had taught him wisdom and made Jungkook learn more about himself. But also showed him how it felt to have a father, someone to look up to. Someone to seek comfort from, someone who gave him a home full of love. By now he could call him ‘Appa’.

The lumberjack had found himself a son. Something he could have never imagined. To have someone he could call his son, his family. He was incredibly happy and so proud of Jungkook. He grew up to be a mature man but also still held the heart of a little child. His heart always swelled when he could spend time with him, whether it would be work or just sitting with him and drinking a hot coffee or beer. Jungkook was someone who filled in the gap in the lumberjack's life.

The next morning as Jungkook still laid in bed, he could hear shuffling sounds coming from downstairs. Someone had visited him, the voices were loud and very.. formal? He couldn’t remember a customer talking this way to either him or his appa. However, minutes after the visitor had left, the lumberjack stormed into his room, a wide smile on his wrinkled face. He held a white letter with golden ornaments in his hand. “Son, wake up!” Jungkook groaned and turned around. Mumbling something about sleeping 5 minutes more.

But the lumberjack couldn’t bear Jungkook sleeping longer with the news he had just received. He grabbed his thick blanket and yanked it away. “No time to sleep, son! Come down I’ve got something to tell you.” And he left.

The young lumberjack needed a few more minutes to wake up properly. Slowly Jungkook dragged his still tired legs downstairs to where Appa sat. There was a letter laid out on the table. It must be some really big news that he had gotten, he had never seen him smile until the point his cheeks turned red.

“Son, we’ve hit the jackpot. The royal adviser himself just paid us a visit.” Suddenly Jungkook was wide awake. Royal? Why would a royal adviser come to their house deep in the forest? Do you maybe know-?

“The princess heard of our hard work and wished to have us as the deliverer of wood for her castle.” He announced happily. Jungkook sat there frozen. “She also wants to pay tribute to us and more of her people that work hard. Like the baker, the butcher and a lot more. So she invited us to her coronation and the ceremony afterwards.”

That was very, well how should Jungkook put it into words? Down-to-earth? You always valued the work of your people and respected them a lot. He remembers how often you sat in the castle's kitchen and watched the bakers and cooks do their work. For them it was their proudest moments to have their princess sit on a small stool and be excited over anything they did. Though it was only Jungkook and the workers of the castles who knew of this side of yours.

He couldn’t explain how and why but somehow rumors spread that you were a cold human. The irony. Jungkook hated the folk's talk about you. Many of them despise you She is inhuman; She treats everyone bad and shuts them out; No one inside the castle saw her ever smile in her life! Why should you smile? You lost your best friend and your parents, you were all alone and had the burden of ruling over a wide kingdom that had many huge conflicts in front of it’s gates.

Jungkook was nervous, way too nervous. Unable to let his mouth form a word, he nervously read the letter. There it was written; The royal majesty, the Crown Princess of Arendelle invites the Lumberjack and the Lumberjack's family to the ceremony of the coronation held inside the chapel and later on, in the halls of the castle.

The big halls, the place where all ceremonies were held. Jungkook could still imagine all details of the colorful walls and pillars, the heavy red curtains with these huge windows that gave the perfect view of the town with the mountains right behind it. He also could remember how you two played there in both early years of childhood. The giggles and stories you two shared. The little games you thought of, plus the trouble you got in. Your teachers could only shake their heads and had to look out for you. The princess getting hurt was a risk no one was willing to take.

A small smile crept on Jungkook’s face as he was thinking about his childhood. Though his Appa misunderstood this smile. “Exciting, isn’t it?” He clapped into his hands and stood up. “We have to celebrate this with a big breakfast!” He announced and got to work.

There were only 7 days left until your coronation. 7 days until he would meet or atleast see you again.

At night he wondered if you’d recognize him. You would, wouldn't you? You had to. Both you and him grew up together, his features must be marked in your brain. But how would you react then? Would the two of you talk? Would you approach him or should he do that? Was he even allowed to talk to the queen then? Well he was invited and it was probably appreciated to speak out his thanks for the invitation. He found himself in a dilemma. Feelings and thoughts were racing inside his brain, he was engaged with his own issues that he couldn’t concentrate on his work.

“Kookie, you seem off. What’s wrong?” Asked a female voice behind him. It was Yuna, the daughter of the town's baker. The baker and his appa were really good friends and so they had an arrangement. They would trade wood for bread. It was a very valued alliance. Yuna was 3 years younger than Jungkook, very delicate and really pretty. All the men and boys swooned over the girl, which flattered her a lot but she wished this behavior came from Jungkook. She had developed a small or a huge and heavy crush on the young man. Which girl didn’t? Soon after Jungkook worked alongside his appa he became the town's talm. Whenever Yuna brought bread to the lumberjack's cottage, she wouldn’t miss the chance to talk to Jungkook. She hoped for more between them. But everytime Yuna called him ‘Kookie’, inwardly he cringed.

You gave him the name ‘Kookie’, it was you who called him that way and he would only accept this name coming from your lips.

“Ah, Yuna. I-” “I know, I know.” She giggled innocently. “But I like calling you like this.”

Jungkook nodded defeated. He gestured for the girl inside the cottage and took the bread from her hands. Inside he placed it inside the bread basket and offered her a cold drink. It was a really hot day, the sun burned down from the sky making people sweat tremendously. Jungkook was glad that the trees offered him this much shade. It was much easier to work outside and not melt away in the sun.

Yuna sat down and took in her surroundings. She liked coming here, everything was so small inside the cottage even though the old lumberjack was a very big and broad man. As her eyes scanned the room she noticed the letter. “Oh, you are invited too?” Her loud and cheerful voice startled Jungkook. Looking over his shoulder he saw her looking at the letter and gave her sounds of approval. “Papa was invited too and promised he would take me with him!”

Yuna was as excited as a little girl. For a night, she could dine with nobles and the future queen herself. She imagined herself in a beautiful and long dress, dancing through the night with princes and other nobles. However, as she laid her eyes on Jungkook who had his back towards her, she imagined him in a suit that would make him look like an actual prince. She imagined how Jungkook would ask her for her hand and dance until their feet hurt. Thinking about this made her cheeks redden and Jungkook asked himself if she was out too long in the sun - so he gave her some cold water to drink and cool down before she went back to her own home. “I don’t think that I’ll go..?” His words made Yuna’s bubble burst in an instant.

“Why?” She asked him sadly and sent him a frown. “You have to! The queen invited you, that would be very rude of you towards her.”

Jungkook had to chuckle softly. “Might be, but I am not sure if I am welcome there.” Yuna couldn’t understand. Why would she invite him then and why would he even think that way. He was a hard working, cute and hands- a hard working lumberjack! He had to get his well earned honor from the queen. “However, drink up before you go. It’s important to stay hydrated out there in the heat of this summer.”

Jungkook hurried back outside where he left his work unattended for too long. He could have sworn that the minutes he spent inside, it got even hotter outside, so as soon as he threw his shirt on the ground, he started to chop the wood lined up before him. He had to calm his nerves down. It completely wrecked him that he would meet you again or at least see you again from afar. He was scared of your reaction, scared of what would happen after that night. He actually knew what would happen - the hole inside his chest would grow bigger. That, he was sure of.

The day finally came, it had to come after all. Jungkook and his appa wore the best suits that they could get. Everything felt like back then. The smell of the chapel, the well polished wood, the thick curtains and the smell of melted wax filled his nostrils.

Jungkook was seated alongside his appa in the back of the chapel. People of his status weren’t allowed to be in the front. Nobles, other kings and queens and important politicians sat there and watched you taking your vows.

He couldn’t see you, just a few glimpses of your back. You wore a deep marine blue dress with a long trail. He could see a few golden ornaments stitched on it, similar to the kingdoms emblem.

Closing his eyes he listened to the choir singing softly in the back of the chapel. It really did feel like his childhood, only that he was much taller now. The sudden movement around him made him snap his eyes open. Everyone stood up to pay their respects as you slowly made your way outside to greet the people waiting in the streets. It was then where he could finally see your face again. His heart skipped a beat or two. You grew up to be a very beautiful woman. Your facial structures got sharper but yet were very soft. Your big eyes sparkled in the light and your plump lips looked so.. Jungkook really couldn’t find words. He was truly enchanted by your beauty. The few seconds he could see you felt like long minutes for him and suddenly a roar of cheers, screams and applause was heard. You reached outside to the front and slipped away from Jungkook’s gaze.

He wanted to see you again, see you much closer.

The food, like always, was fantastic. Everyone was seated around many round tables. Jungkook never saw the main hall filled with so many people, he did wonder if everyone could fit in here. Looking around he saw the guests chatting and laughing, a few were eating while others were dancing to the music that was played by the castle's orchestra. At this point Jungkook couldn’t tell which status a person was, everyone looked so neat and expensive in their dresses and suits. He wondered if the person that was talking to appa was a noble, maybe even a king or just a simple man that worked somewhere in the town. Maybe another baker? Maybe someone who built houses or furniture, but his hands were way too clean for that. Those hands didn’t belong to a worker, it must be someone of a higher status than Jungkook was.

During the entire day Jungkook caught himself thinking about his childhood among these walls and it made him feel nostalgic. A small smile crept on his face. He felt warm, he felt at home even after so many years, even after he got robbed of this place.

As the music came to a halt, an announcer made its way to the front where the throne stood. There was little change over the past years. Jungkook remembered two large chairs, for the late queen and king but now there was only one, yours. An awful, displeasing feeling filled Jungkook’s chest. It reminded him of the death of your parents, it was a strange sight.

“... Her Majesty, the Queen y/n of Arendelle!” Trumpets started to play and everyone in the room bowed down to greet the queen entering the hall.

Jungkook tried to get a glimpse of you but as he straightened again his view was blocked with the backs of your guests.

Though he was a little scared, because of his own feelings, he just had to see you again. It was like something pulled him towards you. Preferably he would have run to you and taken you in a big, tight hug and never let you go. He just missed you so much. He didn’t think that the agony inside his heart would be this strong but yet here he was, longing for you more and more each second he stood there knowing you were in the same room as him.

But he had no chance to talk to you. How could he? He couldn't just walk up to you and greet you like nothing had happened. He wasn’t allowed to get near you, well he thought so.

Jungkook’s appa appeared in front of Jungkook and grabbed him by the arm. “I’ve finally found you, son! Come, come I want to talk to the queen.”

“W-wait! A-appa no, we just can’t-” But that was no use. His appa had already dragged Jungkook to you and took a deep bow. Jungkook however stood there frozen. From up close, to his surprise, you were even more beautiful he couldn’t believe it.

Seconds passed and he still couldn’t move a bit even the people around him noticed his strange behavior and a few of them started to whisper.

“Son, what are you doing? Take a bow, goddamn.” gritted Appa through his teeth, hoping you wouldn’t hear him.

Though something also shifted inside you. You didn’t, never in a million years would have expected him, out of all people, standing there. You tried to fight your tears, smile, excitement whatever you were feeling right now, but you had to act cool. You couldn’t let your guard down.

“Your majesty, me and my son are highly thankful for your invitation. We are truly proud to call you our queen.” Appa told you, which you answered with a soft smile and a little bow of yourself to show your gratitude towards the men. “May I ask what kind of job you are practicing?” - “Oh, we are the town’s lumberjacks and make sure everyone is warm and cozied up during the cold winter, because who would want to be in the cold anyway?” His appa joked and you tried to give a smile. Sure, he’s right. People preferred to have it warm instead of a cold home. You didn’t quite know, but his words hurt you a little. If people knew about your secret, would they still accept you as a queen. You definitely heard what people said about you, that you turned into a cold person but they blamed it on the death of your parents. You didn’t want that. You wanted your folk to accept you and that’s why you invited the most important people from your kingdom, you wanted to show them that you aren’t a cold hearted girl that lived locked up in her castle - no, you wanted to show them that you are different and so you started with your gratitude towards them.

“I understand.” You said softly. “Thank you very much for your hard work.” First you looked to Appa’s direction but then shifted to Jungkook. You smiled and bowed towards him.

Jungkook’s heart was beating in his throat, he felt it. The words he wanted, actually had to say were struck somewhere between his throat and stomach and the moment you smiled at him. Boy, he wished he could just disappear right there.

Just how fast Jungkook and Appa approached you, they already had to leave again. Other guests wanted to speak to their majesty as well.

He sighed deeply, “Son, are you okay?” Of course Appa would notice how strange his son acted. His wrinkled eyes gazed worriedly upon the younger male. “Are you sick? Unwell? Maybe you need some fresh air? ”

“No, no. I am okay, I was just nervous meeting the… queen.” Jungkook would perhaps never grow accustomed to calling you that. For him you were still his little princess, his best friend. Appa laughed, his deep raspy voice echoing through the hall. The grip of his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, a fathery gesture, made him calm his senses a bit.

“Hello Jungkook!” It was a female’s voice. He immediately recognized this as Yuna’s voice, who came running over with a huge smile on her face. Jungkook sighed again, earning a nudge from his Appa. “You look really handsome. God, this place is so beautiful. I still can’t believe that I am in the same room as the queen!” She squealed, excitedly.

However, whilst Yuna was talking about her admiration towards you, other voices were heard in the background. “You monster!” It was a males voice, much older than Jungkook he supposed. “I-I am sorry. Please.”

This was your voice, sounding scared and trembling. You were definitely in distress and Jungkook knew what this meant. He made his way through the crowd and saw how a man, probably in his mid sixties, was almost throwing himself at you. Luckily the guards separated you from the man. “She is a monster, she needs to be locked up!” He screamed into the room, confusion started to grow and whispers were heard. They saw that the man’s hand was covered in ice, but how could that happen?

You could only shake your head. If the man won’t stop screaming at you, you won’t be able to control yourself anymore. Anxiety started to grow within you, it felt like it was choking you.

“You shouldn’t trust the queen, one day she will snap and kill all of you!” That was enough for Jungkook. It was like his brain stopped working, but he had to protect you. He walked up at the man and practically towered over him, his eyes were piercing though his stupid looking face. “Stop talking to her like this, you don’t know her at all.” The old man, a noble that wore his emblems proudly on his chest, looked up at the younger man. How dare he talk to a noble in this tone?

“You should be locked up with her, you discourteous brat.” Hissed the old noble and called his own guards, that travelled with him to protect himself. They grabbed Jungkook both his arms, they were ready to do god knows what with Jungkook.

You just couldn’t stand there and watch him getting dragged away, you had to do something. Though you should think before you take action. You just wanted to raise your hand and shout for them to stop, when suddenly all three men slipped on the cold ice, you finally realised what you have done. The people around looked at you with fear, few taking steps back. “I-I didn’t want that! I am sorry, really.” You held your own arms, in fear of another accident only to be yanked around by the old men. You didn’t want to hurt him again and yet you accidentally attacked him, making him fall down with a screech. Your eyes widened at the sight.

Everything happened so fast, people were screaming and trying to get away from you. They were scared you would attack them too. Guards from other kingdoms ran up to you, ready to tackle you down if you’d try to perform your dangerous magic again. The only way to prevent these men from capturing you, was to run away.

Every step you took, every frame, every door you touched was immediately covered with ice. You however didn't notice what you were doing, putting your kingdom into a cold winter - during summer.

“Son. Son! Are you okay?” Appa made his way through the panicked crowd, searching for Jungkook and whilst he helped a few people that fell to the ground due to the crowd pushing others and running around. Soon he found Jungkook and pulled him up into a tight hug. “God, what were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt!”

“It’s okay, she would never hurt me.” His appa and Yuna, who shortly joined him, didn’t understand Jungkook. How would he know that? “I mean, I felt like it, you know?” He added quickly upon seeing their flustered faces. Appa studied Jungkook’s face. He never had seen Jungkook act like this for someone else. Maybe there was more behind it, something he would never understand as long as Jungkook wouldn't open up about his past.

Jungkook gazed longingly towards the doors where you had escaped through. “I need to find her.” He mumbled under his breath. Yes, it was his duty to go and find you. He had to. This time he should act like your best friend and finally help you. “Appa, I have to go and find y/n- the queen!”

“No Jungkook that’s too dangerous!” Now it was Yuna talking to him, she didn’t understand why he would go out there and risk his life for someone he didn’t know personally.

He shook his head at her remark. Of course it was dangerous, he knew that but he would willingly put himself in danger for you. A strong hand landing on his shoulder distracted his attention from Yuna to the owner of said hand. His appa looked at him with admiration in his eyes. They were soft and warm, like always. “Be careful, okay?” That was everything he had to tell his son, he knew nothing could stop him from going out there to find you.

Jungkook didn’t have much time, he had to hurry to at least intercept you before you would disappear somewhere never to be found again. That’s something he feared a lot, not being able to find you anymore.

Running outside, a sudden cold hit Jungkook. He didn’t notice the world being laid under deep snow and the air being ice cold, so cold that it hurt his skin. It must have been you who did that. While other people were scared of the sudden winter outbreak, Jungkook was fascinated about what your powers could do.That was something he could care about later, now he had a duty to face. He had to find you.

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