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capricornwriter5 · 10 months

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Always on time - Chapter 15

Pairing: Jooheon x female OC

Genre: childhood friends to enemies, enemies to friends, friends to lovers, smut (later chapters), fluff, angst, slow burn, idol AU!

Warning: mentions of mental health issues, mentions of workaholic disorder, curse words

Words: 5k

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Chapter 15

Hey, Jules, how you’ve been? I just wanted to...

*delete, delete, delete*

Hi, Jules. Wonho-hyung told me you’re in Taiwan for...

*delete, delete, delete*

I guess now it’s my turn to show you what I’ve been doing for the last seven years. You’ll see...

*delete, delete, delete*

Jules, I wanted to apologize for what I said the other day and...

*delete, delete, delete*

"Why the fuck is so hard to write a fucking message?!" Jooheon shouted in his apartment room. After the meeting with Wonho and the others, Monsta X members invited him to have dinner to celebrate his return. Jooheon accepted but was not in the mood to spend the night with his friends, so he went to the apartment that he rented just for himself to rest... and think of a plan.

Jooheon had been trying to start a conversation with Julie for about two hours. He didn’t know how to send the first message or what to say in it. Should he start by apologizing for crossing the line? Or should he say hello as if nothing had happened and then bring it up? Or should he act as if nothing had happened? After all, was it really that bad? No, right?

Jooheon didn’t know anything anymore. A part of him told him that the fight he had had with Julianne was not a big deal, that at school they had also fought and soon spoke again. But another part of him was not so convinced, as the truth was that he still felt like he was walking on eggshells with Julie. Although in the last few weeks they had spoken as if the years had not passed between them, Jooheon still felt a distance and some discomfort from Jules. He did not want his comments to spoil the progress he had made.

Anyway, he thought, I didn’t tell her any lies. That guy’s an idiot and I just told her to open her eyes.

…

However, Jooheon continued in his head, it is true that it was not my place, and I could have told her things differently...

…

"FUCK," Jooheon said, this time out loud. "Jules can be dramatic, but she’d be exaggerating if.... ARGHHHH"

At that moment, Jooheon’s cell phone started ringing. When the rapper saw who was calling him, he thought he was asleep...

"Hello?" he replied.

"Jooheon-ssi? I hope I didn’t wake you up," Julianne answered on the other side of the line.

"Ah? N-no, not at all Jules" he said. "I’m just surprised about your call".

"Ah, yes, well, I don’t know if Wonho-ssi told you, but I’ll be working as creative director for his next comeback".

"Y-yes, I knew that," Jooheon continued. "But he also told me that you were flying to Taiwan today, so I wasn’t expecting a call from you. Aren’t you tired of the flight?"

"I need to organize a lot of things while I’m here and I don’t really have much time now, so it will be a short call," said Julianne ignoring Jooheon’s question. "Wonho-ssi told me that the two of you will produce the title track together and that it will be based on a piece you had previously worked on. Areum-ah and I will work on the concept and design of the entire comeback and advertising strategy around that song. All I need is for you to keep us up to date on whatever progress you have. We won’t be able to wait until the song is ready to start developing the rest of the project, so we’re going to have to work in parallel. Are you okay with that?"

"Ehhhh, of course, although I don’t know how..."

"Areum-ah will have regular meetings with you and Wonho-ssi and she will guide you in whatever we need," Julianne cut him. "My call was just to inform you about the approach we will be having for now. Everything else will be explained to you by Areum-ah at the time. Do you have questions for now?"

"Jules, are we all right?" Jooheon asked abruptly.

Julianne was silent for a few seconds. She wasn’t really surprised, as Jooheon had a tendency to talk everything straight out and without... filters. However, she didn’t know if she wanted to bring it up.

Anyway, she had no choice.

"Hello? Jules?"

"I’m still here," she replied. "We’ll work together again, Jooheon-ssi. So yes, we’re fine. However, my personal life is mine and I hope that is clear".

"That’s clear, Jules. I wanted to talk to you earlier, but I didn’t want you to avoid me like a couple of months ago," Jooheon said. "I don’t know how to read your mind like I used to, but I don’t want to screw up and stop talking to you".

Julie was silent again. Part of her felt bad about how she treated him, but it wasn’t time to think about it. All that is behind them: school, university, Jooheon, Kang-Dae...

"If that’s your way of apologizing, apology accepted, Jooheon-ssi," Julie said. "Well, if you don’t have any more questions about what I just told you, I have to go".

"Okay, Jules, rest and we’ll talk later," Jooheon said.

"Good night".

The call ended and Jooheon lay on his bed. He had a bittersweet taste in his mouth. He was happy because Jules didn’t seem to care much about what he had said, or at least he hadn’t been too angry. But that wasn’t Jules, not completely.

Jooheon remembered what Wonho had told him about Jules' resignation from her gallery work and that plus her sudden departure to Taiwan and this strange call in the middle of the night after a flight... Jules only did that when something big happened.

Like when she decided to quit kickboxing and her dream of being a conceptual artist. Jules had no idea, but Jooheon knew that Jules put all that aside after her father’s death. The rapper learned of the news of his passing and wanted to attend the funeral; however, he could not go to present his condolences publicly because the agenda of Monsta X prevented him. When Mr. Seo died, they were still a rookie group and could not risk a scandal... But Jooheon asked his manager to do a little research and found out that Jules had stopped going to the gym where she was training and had switched specialties in college.

He knew it, but he had really forgotten it until then. Jooheon remembered conversations with Jules in which she told him that her dream was to have his works exposed to the public, but he also remembered her father’s insistence on finding a less risky dream. Mr. Seo had opposed his daughter’s hobbies, both kickboxing and art, and that spawned many fights between the two until he simply gave up. The rapper supposed that when he died, Jules decided to change direction to make him happy...

Now she was changing direction in a hurry again, and Jooheon just wanted to know why and if Jules was okay.

____________________________

Weeks later...

The alarm started ringing and Julie turned it off. Waking up with a headache and swollen eyes had become a habit. The night before she decided she wasn’t going to cry... but she failed. She knew the breakup with Kang-Dae was the best thing for both of them, at least for now, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

Everything around her reminded her of him because, after so many years together, Julie realized that she had adopted habits and routines around Kang-Dae. She would get up at the same time as him and send him a good morning message, then she would choose her outfit making sure she always had something on that he would have given her: a scarf, a handkerchief, some earrings, a bracelet, a headband, some shoes... whatever.

While things had changed a lot in the last year, Kang-Dae was a good boyfriend for a long time and Julie realized that a third of the things she had packed without much thought had been given to her by him.

Areum was also used to the routine and was willing to support her friend in whatever she needed to overcome this breakup. They had been in Taiwan for six weeks and the work kept them busy during the day, plus Julie’s work ethic made it difficult for her to have a mid-meeting crisis.

The problem was when they arrived at the apartment they had rented for their stay. As they walked through the door, Julie collapsed. She did not burst into tears immediately, but Areum noticed how her mood changed and she became meditative.

She tried to deal with the situation the best she could: ice cream, movies, manicure sessions, alcohol... or just listening. It was tiring for both of them, but Areum was ready to support her friend.

"Knock, knock," Areum said as she opened the door to Julianne’s room. "I have meetings early today, so you’ll have to make do without me. Breakfast is on the table along with aspirins and a cold compress for the eyes. Yesterday I got a new concealer for you to try and.... Ah! There is a new tea that helps to relax, we can try it later".

"Mpppf" said Julie against the pillow.

"Yeah, I know, you couldn’t live without me, but I have to run, see you later".

Julie didn’t want to get out of bed. It was Saturday, but both friends still had to work to get everything ready before returning to Korea.

The concept of the comeback was not yet decided, but they already had about three ideas with which they could work. Although the ones who really had to decide were Wonho and Jooheon, in the last 3 weeks they had changed the base melody 4 times and that made Areum and Julie analyze the entire creative and marketing strategy to see if everything followed the same line.

Of course, they did all that work so that in the end the two producers decided to return to the first option...

Anyway, because of that Areum oversaw those meetings and other logistical aspects while Julie focused on the design and creative aspects of the project. Areum took on the most administrative tasks, so it was up to her to be the mid-point between the different participants, as well as to guide the decision-making based on expectations and the sales plan. On the other hand, Julie worked with the producers, directors, designers, etc. to explain the conceptual ideas and try to reach an agreement on what was possible and what was not. They were the two sides of the same coin and so far they were going well... as long as they didn’t change the song overnight.

That day, Julie had to put together business presentations. What she wanted was to visualize the three ideas they had to make the information easier to digest and understand. In three days, they had a meeting with the directors of the three companies: Highlight Entertainment, Starship Entertainment, and Areum’s company to evaluate the process. If their ideas were accepted, they could keep going with the planning.

Besides that, Julie had nothing to do in the day, so she got up, showered, had breakfast and started working to get out of her pending tasks as soon as possible. She opened her personal computer and almost started crying again.

I guess I should change the wallpaper, thought Julie closing the laptop and taking a breath.

There had been several times when she had thought about whether dhr had made the right decision. There were nights she cried because she thought she should have been a little more patient, that Kang-Dae had been patient with her when she needed it most, and...

"I need fresh air," Julie said and went to put her shoes on to go out.

Near the building where they rented the apartment, there was a park that was always full of people: families, groups of friends, couples, single people... Julie liked to watch people go by without thinking about anything else and that helped her clear up.

In the park, there were also tables and benches to sit on, and Julie saw that her favorite place was unoccupied, so she went there. It was a stone table with stone benches around it, but it was right at a place where Julie could see the whole park and part of the street in front of her.

She sat quietly for a few minutes until a sound of laughter caught her attention. He saw two girls and a boy laughing as they ran after each other throwing water. After a while, one of the girls asked for a break and the other two approached her only to throw what was left of the water on her. The three laughed and ended up throwing themselves into the grass to watch the clouds pass.

Immediately, Julie thought of her, Areum, and Jooheon when they were in school. The three spent most evenings together studying or listening to Jooheon’s improvised raps. Now that she thought about it, if Jooheon was such a good producer, it was partly due to the two of them, because the number of times they had to listen to the rapper’s bad compositions are enough to take them both to heaven.

Thinking about those days, Julie smiled, but at the same time felt sad. She and Areum had remained friends all those years, but Jooheon simply disappeared from the face of the earth. It is true that Julie didn’t want to see him after their last night together, but now she realized that all her resentment was due to teenage feelings that, although not less valid, over the years lose importance. If Jooheon had shown up earlier, even by chance, maybe Julie wouldn’t have had so much trouble accepting him back into her life again.

Although of course, she thought, just when everything is going well again, there he goes and opens his mouth to say things about which he does not know, and to make everything worse, still does not know how to apologize. Was it so hard to write a message? Or to call? Oh, but nooooooo, I have to be the one to call him first and...

"Argh," Julie said aloud thinking she was alone.

"You’re too young and too pretty to be thinking so much," said one lady who had seen Julie’s expression change from a nostalgic smile to a frown of frustration.

"Ah? Ah, hello, how are you?" Julie said. It was not the first time both had seen each other, as the two women used to go to that park. "I didn’t see you coming".

"Of course not, your mind was elsewhere... a very frustrating place, it seems," the lady replied sitting. "I’m all ears in case you want to talk. Besides, at this age I forget everything, I won’t go around telling your secrets, but I could tell you some of mine. This grandmother has lived long enough to have an ace up her sleeve in almost every situation".

"Hahahaha, I don’t doubt it,” said Julie. "It’s really nothing important, it’s just the memory of a friend".

"Ahhh, a friend. Close, I assume?"

"Yes... something like that. At least it was".

"In the past tense?"

"We didn’t see each other for a long time" said Julie. "He disappeared for work reasons and until recently we met again".

"I see... and what did he do to make you growl in a park on a Saturday afternoon?"

"Mmmmm... be an idiot?"

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA, kid, what man is not an idiot?" replied Grandma. "They all are, but the right one can make your days more enjoyable... even while being an idiot. What matters in men is their gentleness and empathy. That’s a rarity! Stupid men are everywhere, especially when they like a girl".

"Yeah, I guess," Julie said.

"Well, us women can also be idiots sometimes... we’re smarter than men most of the time, but when we like someone who’s an idiot... we end up growling in a park..."

"Hahaha, we’re just friends".

"Of course," the lady said with a smile. She immediately turned her head back and greeted some people who seemed to be waiting for her on the sidewalk. "Those are my daughter and my grandchildren, I guess I should go, but kid, one more thing: remember that time goes faster than it seems and, at my age, regrets come from the lies we tell ourselves out of fear of being vulnerable. Young people today want to be strong, but they forget that the strongest is the one who is willing to be vulnerable".

Julie just smiled and the lady began to walk away to go with her family.

The grandma’s words echoed in Julianne’s head for a few minutes. It was a deep message, but considering she misunderstood the situation, it didn’t apply to her... totally not.

Julie was about to go into a swirl of thoughts when her phone rang. It was Areum, she was back in the apartment and wanted to go to lunch.

Saved by the bell, Julie thought, for if she was aware of anything, it was that Areum called her just in time, before her mind thought of situations she did not want, nor could, deal with at the time.

________________________________

About a month later...

Areum and Julie had arrived two days earlier in Seoul to finish the final meeting and expose the entire conceptual and advertising line of Wonho’s comeback.

At first, Ivy had told them they had about ten weeks to prepare everything and start production, and all three worked to meet the proposed timeline, Ivy from Seoul and Areum and Julie from Taiwan. Both friends had stayed longer than expected, but everything was going great, so neither side had any complaints. In addition, Julie had been able to train Rei from a distance so that she could take up her position in the gallery. Rei still had to organize an exhibition by herself to end her training, but Julianne and Director Kim agreed that it could be done once Julianne was back in Korea to oversee Rei’s work and make the transition as easy as possible.

It was Wednesday morning. Jules arrived early at the main building of Highlight Entertaiment. The day before she had met the team that was going to work in the production of the comeback and those people that she would have in charge. They all had the information of the creative line they were going to follow, so they were waiting for the approval of the companies to start with their tasks.

"Julie-ssi, good morning" she was greeted by Ivy who arrived at the same time as her at the main entrance.

"Hello, Ivy-ssi, how are you?" Julie greeted back.

"All good, you?" she replied.

"I’m well, thank you".

"Ah, before I forget... you left this yesterday in the meeting room," Ivy said, pulling a small yellow bag from her purse. "I hope you don’t mind, but I had to see what was inside to know who it was from".

"Oh, no problem. Thanks for picking it up," Julie said.

"And in case you need it, I saw that you have some anxiety pills and some to help you sleep," Ivy said. "We don’t know each other well enough, and I know I shouldn’t get involved, but if you want to try something different or if the pills stop working, I know some natural remedies that work wonders".

"Ah... sure... thank you," said Julie a little surprised. She’d forgotten she had those pills stashed there, and hadn’t needed them for weeks. "See you later".

Despite how normal it was to have some pills to help her sleep, Julie felt a little embarrassed to remember why she had initially bought them: she needed them to sleep after her breakup. She hadn’t cried before sleep for weeks and there were days she didn’t even think about Kang-Dae at all.

The truth was that Julie was starting to feel freer, more like herself. Some nights in Taiwan she and Areum went out dancing and Julie remembered how much fun they could have together. One week they even met Liv, who was visiting the country due to a recording of the MV of the group she was working with.

Julie had also started training again. While she could not go to the box, she could start with basic fitness routines so that her mind would remember what apparently her body still did not forget. All that made her feel like she could breathe again... and she wanted more.

But that day she was Seo Julianne, creative director for Highlight Ent.

"Good morning" greeted Wonho as he entered the office where Julie was. "Julie-ssi, how are you doing with the presentation? Do you have an update for me?"

"We advanced quite a lot yesterday, and I think everything will be ready today in the afternoon... although perhaps it is best to make the formal presentation first thing tomorrow so that all department heads can be in the meeting".

"Great!" said Wonho. "Tomorrow is perfect, so Jooheon-ah can be present, and we can both explain the title track idea".

Julie froze for a moment when she heard Jooheon’s name. Blank mind, Julie, it’s just Jooheon, there’s no reason to...

"Great, then I’ll tell Areum to finish with some unfinished business and in the evening we can finish putting together the presentation for tomorrow," Julie said.

"Okay, great," Wonho said as he stood up to leave. "If you need anything, you can tell Ivy. Today my schedule is full, so I don’t think we can see each other until tomorrow, but she keeps me in the loop... I think I’ll have to take her out to lunch after this to thank her for the work she’s doing".

"That makes two of us," Julie said with a smile. "Don’t worry, everything is under control".

*******

"You told me I could write anything... that it didn’t necessarily have to make sense as long as I wrote a whole sheet on both sides," Jooheon said as an explanation before giving Doctor Choi what he had written.

"That’s right," she replied. "It can be anything, Jooheon-ssi, as long as you take the time to write it".

The problem with that is that Jooheon had been writing the paper in his car 20 minutes before the session. He tried to make time for it, but he always forgot because he was thinking about other things.

"You know," the psychologist said as she kept Jooheon’s essay on her desk, "I’m impressed with how quickly things happen in your industry. In a matter of months, you have everything ready for a new release... it seems very little time to move so many pieces".

"Ah, yes, that’s the way things are many times," Jooheon said. "In the early years we didn’t know much and suddenly we had a month to prepare for an album and all the promotions. But you get used to it quickly".

"Really?" the slightly incredulous doctor asked. "How quickly did you get used to it? I’m not going to lie to you, I’m feeling a little overwhelmed by how quickly everything was planned, and I only know what you tell me".

"Well... I don’t know. I just know that at one point everything seemed very normal".

"I see... Well, tell me, how do you produce an album?"

Jooheon was a little amused by Dr. Choi’s curiosity. It was normal for people outside the industry to be interested in how an album is made. For the rapper, it was an everyday thing, but many did not imagine how a melody becomes a music video or how the songs or the concept are chosen, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

It really was like any other job but had secrecy around it that made his work a little more interesting than others. Not counting the lights, the makeup, the outfits, and everything that happened behind the scenes before a presentation.

"Ah, so Wonho-ssi is not the only friend you’re going to work with?" Dr. Choi asked. She had asked Jooheon if he knew anyone from the production team and Jooheon, without thinking about it, said Areum’s name... and Julie’s.

"Ah... no, he’s not the only one" replied the rapper. "Jules, Areum, and I go way back, we went to school together".

"Ahhh, I see. And how do you feel about meeting them again after so many years?" she asked. "I imagine it must be interesting for them to see you now after becoming an idol and all that implies".

"It’s... well... it’s what it is, isn’t it?" Jooheon said. "It really... was a surprise".

"Of course, I can imagine..." Dr. Choi said without further pressure. She knew there was something else there, but if Jooheon didn’t want to tell her, she wouldn’t force him. "Well, Jooheon-ssi, we ran out of time this week. I’ll let you go for today and see you next week at the same time".

"Sure, doc, sure".

___________________________________

The next day...

Jooheon is uncomfortable and nervous.

It was 9:00 a.m. He just arrived with Wonho at the company for a staff meeting with Julie that started in fifteen minutes and Jooheon did not seem to be able to stand still. Wonho had noticed; both met in the recording studio at 7 in the morning to review what they had done before and put together a couple of ideas before the meeting, but the rapper seemed unable to focus. Wonho didn’t tell him anything because he assumed he was excited and somewhat nervous about producing again after months of hiatus... but the singer was losing patience. He needed Jooheon completely focused and he was probably going to have to talk to him to see if everything was okay, but that would be after the meeting.

Both were waiting for the elevator to go to the floor where the meeting rooms were when a voice behind them greeted them:

"Wonho-ssi" said Julie.

"Oh, Julie-ssi, good morning," Wonho replied.

Jooheon froze. He didn’t know whether to greet her again or wait for her to greet him... God, you’re not 12, Jooheon-ah, what’s wrong with you?

"Good morning to both of you. I hope you had a good rest because Areum and I need you to focus on today’s meeting".

"Everything will be fine, I know," Wonho said.

Jooheon still didn’t talk.

The elevator doors opened and all three entered.

"Oh, by the way, Jooheon-ssi," Julie suddenly said, "Remember the list of printers you made for the exhibit months ago? I need you to pass it to me, I can’t find the copy you gave me".

"Ah?... Ah... y-yes, sure. When will you...?"

"ASAP" cut it off Julie. "Before 2 pm today would be great".

"Julie-ssi" Wonho said, "Do you think Jooheon can help you with the details you asked for? My schedule changed and I don’t know if I’ll have time to meet with you and Areum in the coming weeks."

"Sure, Wonho-ssi, extra hands are always welcome".

Subtle, hyung, Jooheon thought. He knew his schedule was a lie, but it was his way of including Jooheon in other aspects of production without revealing the reasons.

Finally, they arrived at the floor where the meeting was going to take place and the three left the elevator. Areum was waiting for them in the meeting room. The guests had not yet arrived, so Julie, Areum, and Ivy were able to finish preparing the material with peace of mind.

"Ready?" Ivy asked as the room began to fill.

"Yes," the two friends replied.

__________________________________

A week later...

The production of the album was going smoothly. After everyone accepted Areum and Julie’s proposal, the different teams began to work on their tasks. Everything was in order and all the departments had managed to follow the agenda proposed by Julie: the stylists had managed to get many pieces for the outfits and what was missing of the MV outfits and stages outfits was already being designed; the photo shoot of the album jacket was scheduled for within three weeks and the staff was working on the set design for the studio; the music video would be recorded in two weeks and the locations were secured; the sales, editing and social media team were creating content... Anyway, there had been no missteps, which meant Julie should be on the lookout. When everything goes well, something always happens that can ruin projects. She knew well.

And Jooheon knew how Julie thought, so he tried to keep an eye on his chores, too.

In the last few days, he had seen her almost every day: in the recording studio, in the cafeteria, working late... They both talked normally, so Jooheon’s anxiety went down every day. But there was something that didn’t quite fit the rapper. He didn’t know what it was, but he could see it in Julianne’s face. Although he had to admit that the girl had become better at hiding her emotions, at school she was like an open book.

Or maybe I don’t know her as well as I think, Jooheon thought as he took a sip of coffee and finished listening to a sample they wanted to use on another song on the album. In the end, Jooheon was going to participate in the production of all 7 songs on the EP, not just the title track, so he still had work to do.

"Yah, Jooheon-ah, are you asleep?" Areum shouted in his ear. The girl had been trying to get the rapper’s attention for about 10 minutes, but he was gone in his thoughts and didn’t even hear her say hello.

"Ah?!" he shouted. "Jeez, Areum-ah, you scared me"

"Well, Sleeping Beauty, I’m sorry to say it’s daytime and you have to work. You’re free this afternoon, aren’t you?"

"Tell me what you need".

"I need you to go pick up some paper and print samples with some design options. Julie was going to go, but something came up and she’s not gonna be able to, Ivy and I are maxed out and Wonho-ssi is recording content for his YouTube channel, so... We only have you".

"Is Jules all right?" Jooheon asked.

"Emmm, did you catch anything else I said besides that?" Areum asked.

"Sorry, it’s just that..."

"She’s fine, Jooheon-ah" Areum replied. "She only has a thousand meetings with the other teams, and none want to give her a break".

"Oh, well, sure, I understand..." Jooheon continued. "Well, just give me the address".

Areum passed him the data and said goodbye to continue with her tasks, but before that decided to have some sympathy with the rapper.

"Jooheon-ah" called him from afar and he looked up. "Julie... she’s fine overall. It’s not her best time, but you know how it is, she doesn’t break easily".

"Did something happen?" Jooheon asked.

"Promise me something, will you?" Areum said, ignoring Jooheon’s question. "Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re an idiot, just like in school. And you did stupid things that you’re not even aware of, yet you’re a good person and I know you love Julie very much. Don’t ask questions and don’t worry too much, just... be the friend you were years ago, will you?"

"Areum-ah..."

"Seriously, Jooheon-ah, no questions" she cut it. "I promise you there is nothing to worry about, but Julie could use a friend".

Jooheon nodded silently and Areum ended the conversation, so he turned around and began to leave. Just then, the rapper shouted:

"I love you too, Areum-ah. My childhood would not have been the same without your spiritual guidance".

"Well, someone had to get your head out of your ass," Areum yelled back. "Now get lost, it’s far and you have to get there before they close".

Both friends said goodbye with a smile and left each on their own.

She was reassured that Julie would have someone else to lean on.

He was full of questions, for he knew there was something they were not telling him.

Okay, now how do I get you to tell me what’s wrong with you, Jules?

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unknownizumi · 11 months

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if you know me and you read this no you didn't. so i went to cairo and fell for my friend's brother. i met her at a house party in addis ababa 4 years ago and then we met up in cairo again, she took me to her brother's house for pre-drink and then a big group of us went clubbing together. something about him that night made me want to get closer to him, even though another guy flirted with me in the club and took me out to dinner to the fanciest rooftop restaurant in the city that week. we met again only a few weeks later, danced in an empty bar. he showed up to pick up his sister at the class we were taking at the same time and we had dinner in downtown. finally one night i was out with friends and texted him. i stole a single rose from the bar and gave it to him. i stayed over that night and the next we spent together in the old city. i enjoyed talking to him. when i left cairo, we went to barcelona and ibiza together. we started fighting but he still came to see me in nl and i still went back to cairo before he moved to the other side of the world and i went to zanzibar, not sure if we would try to keep dating or if i'd never see him again. i went to taiwan, it became clear i wouldn't be with k and then i met a taiwanese american guy who seemed like the man of my dreams and i developed a terrible crush on him. i went back to nl and thought about him for two months because i had nothing to do in the dutch winter and biding my time to go back to taiwan again. he already left for tokyo by the time i made it back, i dated a bit in taiwan. had a terrible run a jewish stanford boy who was ambitious, smart, funny, good-looking and crazy about me but not considerate in the way i wanted him to be and i discovered that's a dealbreaker for me. felt like shit afterwards. had one good night with another taiwanese silicon valley boy where we met up for coffee, worked a bit, i worked alone a bit more and met other friends, then i said fuck it i'll stay out and party with him and his friend. at 3am we were eating noodles at some streetside stall, having deep conversations while being cool with never seeing each other again when he left the following day. i went to tokyo. because i was chasing s and because i wanted to have a solo travel break hoping a week off and a new city would break my bad run with romance. he picked me up at the metro station and we walked to his place. we made a lego bunny, which i found a bit odd but fun. it was saturday or sunday. on his scooter we went to the local library. i said i wanted taiyaki so we went to get taiyaki and had it on a bench in a public park while he told me about being catholic and i made him eat my leftover taiyaki. thinking about that now, it seems i already knew there was something there. i remember i put my chin on his shoulder while sitting at the back of the scooter. it made perfect sense. we got flowers and strawberries. the second day we went everywhere in tokyo. it was incredibly romantic. i put my head on his shoulder in the subway when i was tired. the next week he worked. i explored tokyo by myself. he made me breakfast every day before going to the office. he made me sleep in his bed while he slept on the floor. the last day the other guest was staying he kissed me briefly. when the other guy left we built a fort and kissed in it. i stayed three weeks. he romanced me exactly the way i want to be romanced. he took care of me and was patient and generous and took initiative to make plans. i went back to taipei and then netherlands. i finally met up with g, we went to see the tulips and even though our 'dates' weren't that great i met some of his friends and we talked about the possibility of us dating. i started socializing again with some old friend's and at a birthday i unexpectedly talked with t all night at a dimly lit bar drinking cocktails. he didn't me a chance to pay, even though i offered, which i love. i wanted to talk to him more, so i invited him to have dinner with another friend that week. we had a nice time, but i told my friend h who has had a little crush on him forever that i wasn't interested. his current lifestyle didn't appeal to me. besides, j was coming to visit me. j came to my house. benji loved him immediately. our love deepened. i'm not that hopeful. he's too old for me, my personality is too abrasive for him. but he's so good to me, he creates the space for me to feel safe, to change for the better. it could be like this for a lifetime. we could build a very beautiful life together. with him, i'm in love with the little things. two days ago t took me to see a concert. i was grossly late and he was incredibly courteous even though any person in that situation would have the right to be angry with me. i made us miss the first half of the concert and he dropped his phone which broke. when i saw him i realized how much i wanted to please him, and how sorry i was to be late. to be honest, i was so late because i didn't know what to wear, and i wanted to look good for the occasion. after the concert, which launched us into a new moment, we sat on the square for a bit in half-silence, smoking a cigarette. i looked at him quite intensely and noticed that he's handsome. he smelled amazing. we drove to some bar and had another glass of wine and many cigarettes on the terrace and talked a lot again. the next day i woke up feeling like shit because of the cigarettes and late night. the next day he texted me he will quit smoking.

#journal

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rifolklore · 11 months

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Coffee Milk

My dad told me he never saw my grandfather drink regular milk ever in his life. It was always a little bit of milk with some coffee syrup. Or the premade kind. Coffee milk is a true Rhode Island staple.

Dave's Coffee is my family's go-to coffee shop in Providence. We've bought their coffee syrup before of course! Image courtesy of the baymagazine.com.

With a history dating back over 100 years, coffee milk reached icon status in 1933 when it was declared Rhode Island's official state drink. You can drink it as a treat, drink it instead of coffee, drink it instead of milk... There's really no wrong time or place for coffee milk in Rhode Island!

As packaged drinks and interesting milk flavors have hit the markets, I've seen more and more bottled variations of coffee milk. Even at UMass, I can find Mapeline Farm coffee milk right at Harvest market in the Campus Center.

You can find an individual serving of pre-made coffee milk right here at UMass! I took this photo during a day when Harvest was fully stocked.

However, that true coffee syrup type of coffee milk, the kind you can get at a Rhode Island breakfast joint in a thick glass, has not quite breached past the state's borders.

A Coffee Milk Story

I have a clear memory of the power of coffee milk and its unique Rhode Islandness. Benji, a family friend of ours from Taiwan, was attending a summer program at Brown University. He had never visited the east coast of the United States before in his life, let alone Rhode Island. We were with him from his arrival at Logan Airport in Boston to his dropoff at the summer program. My dad, playing the role of tour guide in his home state, gave Benji a crash course in the Rhode Island essentials. Of course, this education included a lesson in coffee milk. As we left him at his Brown dorm for the summer, we didn't realize how much he was going to fall in love with the drink. The weeks went by. We picked him up at the end of his summer program and drove him back to Boston. As we sat down for brunch back in Massachusetts, Benji looked our waitress in the eye and confidently ordered a glass of coffee milk. Apologetically, she noted that their restaurant didn't carry it. My parents chuckled and explained to him that coffee milk was a quintessential Rhode Island beverage and that it was much harder to find outside of the state. In the few weeks he had spent in Providence, he had grown to love the state's very own drink.

It is memories like that which make me think about Rhode Island's lovable quirks and traits. Coffee milk transcends culture. Anyone, even a teenage boy from a country halfway across the world, can fall in love with it.

#food

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borahae-777 · 1 year

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The Truth Untold -- Chapter 17: Today I Think I Have To Punish You

Pairing: Taehyung x Jungkook, Yoongi x Jimin

Word Count: Fic in progress, 190k so far. 3k-5k per chapter

Chapter Summary:

Jungkook squeals and squeezes his hyung one more time before he runs out the door and down the hall. He doesn’t even bother knocking on Taehyung’s door and bursts in before launching himself onto the bed on top of the other man.

“Kookie! What are you doing?! Agh, let me breathe!”

“I am never leaving enough space for you to breathe ever again. We won, Tae. We won!”

Warnings: Eventual Smut, BDSM, 18+, MxM

Later that week, Namjoon is pacing outside of the BigHit conference rooms. He has notecards in his hand, but finds that reading them just makes him more nervous. He’s been obsessing a bit too much over what to say to Bang ever since Jungkook came to him in Taiwan. He must have rewritten the cards a hundred times, but no words ever felt quite right. He’s going to just speak from the heart and let his brain carry him where he needs to go.

He walks up to the door and knocks, immediately told to enter. Bang is sitting there by himself with just a notepad in front of him. He’s grateful that he agreed to a private one-on-one meeting. The last thing they need is anyone else being let in on their secrets. He bows at the waist in respect before sitting at the opposite side of the table.

“Bang PD-nim, thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I have some things we need to talk about in light of the new contracts being signed soon.”

“I’m open to listening to whatever you have to say, you’ve all earned some leeway and I’m happy to provide what I can. Within reason of course.”

“I’m glad to hear you say that. I’m not here with everyone’s requests, simply to discuss a particular point and ask for some help. It’s about Jungkook and Taehyung.”

The man’s face begins to darken, clearly not expecting this topic and not wanting to broach it. He starts to squirm in his seat as he waits for Namjoon to continue, the respect between them probably the only thing keeping him from shutting down the discussion before it can begin.

“I’d like to negotiate for their right to be in a relationship. I know that I agreed to your separation plans and we tried it for months. It wasn’t working, for anyone. I’m sure you’ll admit the Run and Bangtan Bomb content to come out in that time was subpar, none of us were happy. The maknaes were distant and angry, the rest of us couldn’t stand to watch them in so much pain.”

“Namjoon. I can understand your point, but I’m not sure you understand mine.”

“With all due respect, I do. That’s why I went along with it at the beginning. I know the dangers and the risks to our career, but is success anything without love? Taehyung had Yoongi help him write a ballad for the album that was inspired by Jungkook. It’s beautiful and once you hear it I’m sure you’ll agree that there’s some amazing art that could come out of this.”

He knows that trying to make his argument line up with the company’s best interests is a big swing, but it’s worth trying. It’s not a lie, the new songs are amazing and they’re born of love. He makes a mental note to ask the boys if they’ve named either song yet. The new album is being wrapped up now and they need to complete the track list.

“Wow, there’s the Namjoon I met as a gangly teenager. Your brain is too sharp for your own good. That was an excellent way to spin that, I’m almost impressed.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as the other man speaks and starts to chuckle with a smirk.

“I know that they can be more discreet moving forward and we’re all willing to pitch in to help. We will keep an eye on them and gently nudge space between them when we need to. It’s what’s best for the group as a whole.”

“I suppose I can lift the separation rule, it’s not as if other idols don’t break dating bans and they’re not the first homosexual idols. I just think of you all as my sons and I don’t want anything to happen to you. It’s possible I handled it incorrectly and I’m willing to try it your way. You said you also need to ask for help. What do you need from me?”

Namjoon feels a tremble in his hand and knows that the next part could undo all the progress that they just made. He’s grateful that now the boys won’t get in trouble, but the note left for Jungkook throws a wrench into everything. This is a big ask.

“While we were in Taiwan something was taped to Jungkook’s hotel room door that leads us to believe that someone is aware of the feelings between him and Taehyung. I can’t tell you precisely what it was, that’s their private business. However, it has terrified Jungkook and it worries me as well. I was hoping to ask for some extra help. A little more security, perhaps staff members we could consider bringing into the fold for protection, maybe even having someone do a little digging?”

The CEO doesn’t say anything for a long time. He’s been alternating between writing in his notepad and tapping his pen on the table. His face is unreadable, which is rare for the man. Namjoon gulps and fiddles with his rings under the table. He doesn’t want to go as far as to refuse to consider signing their contracts until the company agrees to their terms. He’s hoping for a calmer negotiation over the course of the next few months.

“Okay Namjoon. Done.”

“Wh-What?”

“I’m willing to help. There will be an extra guard with both Taehyung and Jungkook moving forwards. I can make you a list of those currently on your staff detail that you can trust if you want to talk amongst yourselves about being open to telling them what’s going on. I will also hire a private investigator to look into those who were around you in Taiwan. Is there anything else?”

“No, no this is amazing. This is more than I could’ve hoped for. May I ask why you’ve had such a strong change of heart?”

“This stays between us, Namjoon. I know you’re aware of the consequences of breaking my confidence. Over the last six months since I separated your maknaes, one of my family members came out to us. While watching the strength and bravery of someone I loved so much, I felt ashamed that I drove a wedge between them. I wasn’t sure I should speak with you in case the separation did help them move on, but if things have been as hard as you’ve said then I’d like to fix my mistake.”

“Bang PD-nim, I am eternally grateful for everything you’ve done for us. This is perhaps the most compassionate thing anyone will ever do for our members. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, but the condition for this is that you need to keep me in the loop on everything. This will only work with communication and honesty in both directions.”

“I promise.”

He’s dismissed from the meeting and bows as he stands up from his chair. He walks out of the office and runs down the hall towards the parking garage. He finally has some good news and he needs to find Jungkook immediately.

*********

Yoongi is sitting on the roof in his usual spot, staring at the wall that Taehyung found him punching last week. Seeing the crack in the wood makes his stomach twist. It had reached its breaking point, just like he had. He’s been spending more time up here lately, not wanting to retreat to his studio when that’s where everyone expects him to be. He lays down on his back to watch the clouds go by when he hears footsteps approaching.

Oranges.

He freezes and rolls his eyes back to try and watch for Jimin’s shoes to enter his field of vision. He sees his face before he sees his feet and realizes that Jimin has laid down on his stomach, body propped up on his forearms so that he can lean over Yoongi and look him in the eye. He opens his mouth to say something to his dongsaeng, maybe to ask how he found him, but he’s stopped before he can.

Jimin lays a soft hand on his cheek and presses a kiss to his lips upside down. Yoongi doesn’t have time to overthink it, some sort of dam within him breaks and he lets out an embarrassing whimper as he presses into the kiss. Jimin’s lips feel so different from his angle and he traces them with his tongue, trying to memorize the curves and lines. His tongue slips between his lips and runs along his teeth until he’s granted entry. He reaches up and tangles his fingers into the younger man’s hair to try and bring him even closer.

A hand reaches up and laces their fingers together against the back of Jimin’s head. The kiss breaks and Yoongi can only stare up at the soft flushed pink on his cheeks, mesmerized. Jimin sits up, switching the hand that’s holding his, and walks over to sit in front of him.

“Hi, hyung.”

“Hey there, Jiminie.”

“I want to try this. I know the process has been painful so far and everything has been messy, but I can’t pretend that I haven’t wanted to be with you for years. I’ll never forgive myself if I lose this opportunity.”

Yoongi’s breath catches in his throat and he feels a lump in his throat. He doesn’t want to cry right now, but he feels such a profound sense of relief. Jimin is incredible. Anyone else would have written him off. He won’t mess this up again, he can’t mess this up again.

“Jimin. I don’t know how to express how grateful I am. I promise you I will never make those mistakes again. No more avoiding you when things get hard. No more outside people. Just me and you.”

He reaches up and presses the pad of his thumb to Jimin’s plush bottom lip. He presses down and drags across the entire length, feeling the small intake of breath the other man lets out as he opens his mouth to draw Yoongi into his mouth. His tongue swirls around his thumb and it’s maddening. How can something so simple be so sensual? There is grace in everything Jimin does.

He presses his thumb down against Jimin’s tongue, gently pushing his jaw open. The sight in front of him causes a curl of heat to settle in his stomach. He runs his hand along Jimin’s face and leans forward to swipe his tongue inside his open mouth to replace his thumb. The responding whine makes a growl grow inside his throat and he pulls back to pull his hoodie over his head. He reaches behind Jimin and balls up the fabric until it creates some cushioning. He slowly pushes the other man backwards until they’re laying flush against each other on the roof. “Jimin, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

He leans down, unable to take any more time off from kissing those perfect lips. Jimin’s hands come up and slide underneath his t-shirt, delicate but powerful as they trace up and down his spine. Chills run over his skin and he can’t stop himself from grinding his hips downwards. He freezes when he realizes they’re somehow both already hard despite how little has happened.

The feel of Jimin’s hard cock beneath his causes him to start to roll his hips harder, pressing them both into the hard surface of the roof. Thank god their rooftop is secluded enough for this, Yoongi isn’t sure he could stop now if he tried. He is in disbelief at the parallels between this and the…dream he had about Jimin. They’re practically retracing their steps.

He lifts up to pull his shirt over his head and tugs at the hem of Jimin’s to urge him to sit up enough to remove it. As the fabric crosses over his face, Yoongi’s heart stops. The look that emerges from the collar of Jimin’s shirt flusters him. The messy hair, the pink pout, the curve of his collarbones and the words etched across his honey-kissed ribs. This is everything.

Jimin grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him back down, their bare skin pressed together inch for inch. He’s yearning to touch and be touched, but is hesitant about how. He has no experience with this, but is not the type to let someone else take control. He remembers Jimin being a brat in his dream and wonders if that part may also come true. He pulls away from the kiss and decides to keep his promise to communicate better.

“Jimin-ah, can I ask you a few questions?”

“Of course, hyung. Here, let me sit up. What’s on your mind?”

“There are some things we should talk about before we let this go where we want it to go. As I told you, I got tested since my last partner. What about you?”

“There hasn’t been anyone in years and I’m clean.”

“Okay, um, I guess the only way to ask this is bluntly. Do you fall anywhere under the BDSM umbrella?”

“What do you think?” Jimin bursts into a peal of laughter that sounds like church bells and Yoongi can’t help but smile back despite his nerves.

“I know what my theory would be, but I don’t want to make any assumptions.”

“Yes, I’m a sub. Every so often I’m bratty, but it’s not constant. You asking this is so cute when I know there’s no way you’re not a very severe dom. It’s so cute to see you nervous like this.”

“Oh, is it?”

Yoongi tangles a hand through Jimin’s hair and tugs tight, baring the column of his throat. He lowers his lips to the skin and draws it into his mouth, trying his best not to bite down and leave a mark. He manages to just barely graze the spot with his teeth and he can feel the blood pounding in Jimin’s pulse.

“Not so mouthy now, are you?”

“Mmph.”

“Here’s how this is going to go. Daddy is going to touch you and you’re going to tell him what feels good and what doesn’t. If you’re a good, obedient little teacher then you’ll get a prize. If you need anything to stop, I want you to snap your fingers, okay?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes…Daddy.”

Yoongi can feel a violent twitch jerk through his cock at hearing those words come from Jimin’s angelic mouth. He could feel the vibration of each word at his throat and he lets out a growl before he pulls backwards. He pushes Jimin backwards with one hand until he’s laying flat again and pushed his legs open so he can kneel between those powerful thighs.

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight laid out in front of him before he leans down and presses a soft kiss against each of his collarbones. He licks down Jimin’s chest until he reaches a nipple and draws it in between his teeth gently. His back bows as he pushes his chest up towards Yoongi and moans.

“Oh, baby likes that, does he? Noted.”

He smirks up at Jimin, noticing his head lifted to watch Yoongi kissing his way down his torso. The look on his face is desperate and vulnerable and it’s dangerous. He wants to completely tear him apart. He gets to the button on Jimin’s pants and grabs the flap in his teeth, pulling them open with a sharp jerk of his head. He hears his name on the air in the form of a whimper and he pulls the zipper down with his teeth.

“Are you okay? Would you like me to keep going?”

“Hyung, if you stop now I might die right here. Please.”

He lets out a chuckle and backs up so he can peel the tight pants off of Jimin’s legs. He sits up onto his heels to stare. Jimin’s face is flushed and almost pained, his chest heaving and cock pressing tight against the front of his black boxer-briefs. Yoongi starts to feel nervous, this is all so new. He pushes it aside and dives in with confidence.

He leans forward and hovers his warm mouth open above the last scrap of fabric touching Jimin’s body. He purposely doesn’t make contact, enjoying the squirming beneath him far too much. He looks up and catches Jimin’s eyes, he sees his hands tangling in his own hair and smiles.

“God, you look so incredible between my legs.”

That one sentence pushes him over the edge, he grips Jimin’s hip with one hand and presses his lips directly to the hard length covered in front of him. The resounding gasp from above spurs him on and he explores the length with his lips, working his way up to having the courage to bare that last bit of skin. He moves his way up towards his waistband and runs his nose back and forth over the strip of skin right above it. He slowly reaches up with both hands and lowers Jimin’s underwear to just below his cock.

He springs free of the fabric and Yoongi feels drops of precum fall from his own aching length. He has never seen anything so sexy, so perfect. He tentatively flicks his tongue across the head, getting a feel for what this might feel like. He glances up at Jimin who has gone silent. He looks like he’s holding breath.

“You’re supposed to be telling me what feels good, little one. Don’t make Daddy punish you.”

“That. That feels good, Daddy. Keep licking. Swirl your tongue around my head.”

He complies and hears a keening break from Jimin’s throat, which finally makes his head click into its confident dom space. He’s going to show this perfect man exactly how he feels and exactly what he can do. He quickly nips at both of his hips before taking the head of his cock entirely in his mouth. He feels hands wrap into his hair and doesn’t bother trying a command to have Jimin keep still, it feels amazing to be touched.

He starts to bob up and down, getting used to the sensation. He feels like he wants to devour Jimin whole. Having the weight of him inside his mouth this way is incredibly erotic. He never saw this coming, but he feels like he could drive him wild like this for hours. He relishes the heavy gasps and soft sounds coming from above his head and can’t help but look up every so often, always finding Jimin already looking back. He adds his hand to the rhythm with a squeeze and hears a yell.

“FUCK. Hyung, I’m so close, you may want to back up.”

Yoongi pulls Jimin out of his mouth just long enough to smirk and utter one word before he returns with fervor: “Never.”

Jimin’s entire body tenses and he shrieks a high note that really should be put onto one of their tracks. Yoongi feels a rush against his tongue and tries to swallow the salty liquid, knowing some is spilling from the corners of his small mouth. He sits still, letting Jimin sit in his mouth until he feels him soften. He pulls back and looks up.

An angel is splayed naked to the world across the roof. He’s panting and trembling. His face is pink and his eyes unfocused. He is art. He is music. He is romance.

“Was that really your first time touching another man?’

“It was.”

“Holy shit. You’re a natural. That was amazing. I don’t think that sight will ever leave my brain as long as I live. Do you-do you mind if I touch you?”

Yoongi suddenly can’t breathe. This is all he’s wanted for months and he’s terrified. He’s come this far, it’s time to be brave. He nods silently and Jimin sits up to press a soft kiss against his lips. He tries to relax his body as he’s flipped over and laid in the warm spot left behind. Jimin slips a tongue into his mouth before kissing across his cheek and nudging his chin up with his nose. His lips feel like warm pillows as they press down his neck with tiny sucking motions. He’s barely making contact and yet Yoongi can feel each little spot burn.

He flicks a tongue out at one of his nipples and his hips buck up involuntarily. Jimin’s hand travels down his stomach to the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls them and his underwear down in one swoop, surprising him and making him sit up in embarrassment. His hard and leaking cock pops out against his stomach and he flushes red.

“Hyung, my god. I can feel myself starting to drool.” Jimin is murmuring softly against his skin and he aches to be touched.

“Jiminie. Touch me.”

With a soft groan, Jimin doesn’t waste any time. He slides Yoongi’s cock into his mouth and immediately allows him to hit the back of his throat. It brings his whole body up off the roof and he curls himself around the other’s head, fingers tangling in his hair. He’s already losing his composure.

He sits up and leans back on his hands to give him space to move while still being able to watch. Their eyes meet and Jimin never closes them or looks away. There is nothing more sinful than the sight of him sucking Yoongi’s cock while looking straight at him.

“If you keep looking at me like that I’m not going to last very long.”

The devil enters Jimin’s eyes then and he changes his rhythm to speed up. He moves his muscles like water, he dances even now. His tongue is doing something that Yoongi can’t quite pick out, all he knows is it’s shooting lightning up his body. He can’t hold it anymore as a wave of heat spreads from head to toe and he cries out, spilling onto Jimin’s tongue. He hears his satisfied hums as his throat swallows.

“Fuck, Jimin. Fuck.”

“Was I a good boy, hyung?”

“You were the best boy, baby. Come here.”

Jimin crawls up his body and tucks his head under his shoulder, letting out a contented sigh. He wraps both arms around him and presses soft kisses to his head. This is paradise.

********

Jungkook is laying in his bed with headphones on and his eyes closed. He disappears into music when he’s stressed. He’s been keeping to himself the last few days since leaving Taiwan. He had apologized to Tae for not making it to his room, claiming exhaustion and it was easily accepted. Everyone has been tired lately, emotionally drained and physically overworked. He can feel himself dozing when someone bursts into the room without knocking.

“Jungkookie! Jungkookie! Jungkookie!”

“Namjoon-hyung, are you okay?! What is it?”

“I just met with Bang and he’s going to support your relationship.”

“What?! How?! Why?!”

“I sat down with him and laid out why you and Taehyung deserve to be together, told him what happened in Taiwan, and asked him for his help. He agreed to everything. No more separation. Extra security. Trusted staffers. A private investigator to try and dig into who may have left the note. Everything, Kookie! Everything!”

Jungkook is speechless. This is more than he ever could have hoped for. He’s been so anxious about everything, wondering what’s going to force him and Tae apart next. They’re going to get a shot, a real shot, to make this thing work. He’s got the members and the CEO backing them and he trusts them all implicitly.

He leaps up and jumps into Namjoon’s arms, giggling high and bright. He loves his leader so much, choosing BigHit in order to follow him was the right choice, he’s reminded of this constantly but never so much as right now.

“Hyung, I don’t know how to ever thank you enough for what you’re doing. I’m going to start by taking you to the fanciest dinner you want sometime this week. Just me and you. Order the whole menu if you want!”

“Thanks, Kook. That sounds great. Now, isn’t there somewhere you need to be?”

“Kookie! What are you doing?! Agh, let me breathe!”

“I am never leaving enough space for you to breathe ever again. We won, Tae. We won!”

“Won what? Try making some sense!”

“Namjoonie-hyung went to Bang PD-nim and fought for us. The company is going to let us be together! No more separation!”

Taehyung gasps and pushes forward to capture Jungkook’s lips in a powerful kiss. It brings a sharp buzz into his head and he presses back, opening his mouth to his tongue. They both start to lose their breath as they push and pull against each other, clothes disappearing one by one. In a flash, they’re nothing but bare skin pressed together at every possible inch.

Jungkook looks down at their bodies and marvels at the pale hue of his skin against all the cinnamon softness of Tae’s. He groans under his breath and moves backwards so he can wrap his hand around Taehyung’s half-hard cock. It doesn’t take long for it to grow and stiffen beneath his touch, leaking at the tip. He’s been paying close attention to what he likes so that he can bring him to the edge anytime he wants. He can’t hold back anymore as he kneels between Taehyung’s spread legs and takes him into his mouth.

“God, Kookie. Fast learner. You’re killing me.”

He smiles as much as he’s able and starts to move faster, a hand underneath his face to keep him from going too deep and choking. He swirls his tongue around the head, slips his tongue into the salty slit in the center, squeezes just right with his hand. He flicks his eyes up to watch Tae and sees his eyes squeezed shut and his fingernails digging into his palms. He hums to get his attention, savoring the way the vibration makes him whimper. When their eyes meet, he tries to send the message that he doesn’t have to hold back. He must understand because he grabs the sides of Jungkook’s head and takes over, fucking into his mouth and hand.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take my cock like a champ. You beautiful, beautiful man.”

Jungkook is shocked at the way the words cut through him and shoot straight to his groan. The phrases are full of praise but also so filthy and a little degrading. He loves it. What is this new side of himself he’s discovering? He can’t think about it now, he’s trying to focus on breathing through his nose and not choking.

“Kookie, I’m gonna-I can’t…mmph.”

Taehyung twitches and stills, pumping cum down his throat and Jungkook drinks it all up like water. His chest is heavy with emotion and he pulls his head back as Tae’s hands disappear. He looks up in wonder and can’t believe that he’s somehow even more handsome than usual. He decides that swept-away-Taehyung is the best Taehyung.

He’s suddenly hauled up by the shoulders and flipped over, pinned to the bed with Taehyung propped up above him. He feels small and powerless and really likes it. He lays still and silent, waiting to see what happens next.

“Jungkook, do you remember in Taiwan when you decided to try and tease me in the dressing room?”

“Y-yes?”

“Payback time.”

********

Jimin feels like he’s floating. He knows he made the right choice, he’s never felt anything like that before. Yoongi is the only person he’s ever been in love with and he always assumed that sex being better when there’s love involved was just a cliche. It’s not. It’s absolutely everything. They’d laid on the roof until they got cold and then they got dressed, trading soft kisses in between movements. He walked Yoongi to his studio, wishing more than anything that he could have held his hand on the way there.

Now he’s crashed out on his bed, replaying every second in his mind. The way Yoongi had looked at him had made him feel beautiful. It’s the same face he has every time they go to an art museum. The entire thing is surreal and Jimin can’t wait to tell Taehyung and Jungkook. Should they talk to Namjoon and the others? Probably. Their leader was nice enough to lift their ban, they should respect that privilege. Tomorrow, for sure.

His phone starts to buzz and he’s hoping it’s Yoongi calling, but instead Dae-hyun’s name flashes across the screen. He smiles and picks up, always glad to hear from his new friend.

“Hi! How are you?!”

“Hi, Jimin-ssi. I have something I want to talk to you about and I’m going to do my best to get it all out. Okay?”

“Um, okay, but I hope you’re okay. You’re worrying me.”

“It’ll all make sense in a minute. Look, I love spending time with all of you, I’ve never had a solid group of friends who all accepted me and liked me. Having this for the first time in my life has been eye-opening. I appreciate what you’ve done for me so much, but I can’t keep coming over.”

“What?! Dae-hyun, why? Did I do something wrong?”

“God, no, absolutely not. You’re amazing, I promise this isn’t your fault. I want what’s best for you and I know that that isn’t me. I need you to just trust me, this is the right thing to do.”

“Trust you? You’re just abandoning me, abandoning all of us. You’re being so vague, don’t you even have the courage to tell me why?”

“I don’t. I’m so sorry, Jimin. I’m not strong or brave the way you are, I can’t talk about this. I need to keep it to myself. Please just understand that I will always care about all of you and I wish things could be different.”

“Whatever. See you at work, I guess. Bye.”

Jimin hangs up and bursts into tears. He doesn’t understand what just happened. How is he going to explain this to everyone? They’ve all really liked having Dae-hyun around.

Everyone leaves Jimin.

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062221 · 2 years

Text

10/08/22

I don’t know what this is teaching me. Maybe one day I’ll find out.

I was fisted by a guy who gradually added fingers every time I’d visited. I knew what I was getting myself into, I did it anyway. & now I’m bleeding.

I’m worried about a possible warrant for my arrest. I’ve been on a heist to say the least. I got drunk, drove my car and stole 80% of my long list. I proceeded to go to George’s house, using Thomai as a pawn- so that I could see his reaction when I lied and told her I had a sugar daddy. & now I’m even more humiliated with myself.

Heidi moved down here and all I can do is sit back and watch my two best friends fade away from me and into eachother. I often think about my mistakes and memories I’ve made with them and they were always responsible for me. Now I feel this inadequacy that I’ll never measure up. This living situation has me in constant panic and I often fantasize about moving to Miami to live with Jacqui. I could never afford it.

I quit my job at saikoi and I feel like I’ve lost all the trust and respect of the friends who put time into trying to get me hired. September was beautiful because I got to eat midnight sushi with good people and sing karaoke until my voice was hoarse and now I feel like I’ve let everyone down. They haven’t texted. Only vin sin, the nicest one of the group who I outed for telling people we went on a “date” at Miller’s. I’m a terrible friend to all of my friends.

I’m impulsively picking at my face everyday. My beard has become choppy from the ingrown hairs I’ve twisted and extracted again and again. I’m picking at any and all blemishes and leaving a constellation of dark spots and permanent scars on my face. I feel so ugly, my body is unhealthy, I’m on drugs now, because if it’s not adderall it’s a klonopin and the weed is never old, even when it is.

I’m trying to love myself because I don’t and I wish that I just would. I hate my voice, my body, my choices, my past, present and future. My problem is that I think running away will solve everything, and I still believe it. If I had a 1 way to fucking Taiwan I wouldn’t think twice. Not a grand to my name. Never a dollar in my pocket.

I think about how I was sad as a child. I’m still sad and I’m starting to believe that I’ll always be sad. So sad that when I look back, things weren’t that bad. They’ve just gotten progressively worse into my adulthood because I wasn’t taken care of properly. I was abused and now I abuse myself on a daily basis. I punish myself for my own behavior, mistakes and failures.

My mental illness is like a boom box in my head that won’t shut off. I don’t hear any voices or anything like that, I just feel like the volume is too high and I can’t control it. I’m always self sabotaging because of it. I cope healthy one day, and drink the next. I’m in a limbo. My life is in limbo.. just waiting for me to fall and end the game. I’ve never been this low and it seems like I’m sinking deeper and deeper.

If ever faced with DNR papers, I’d sign my life away today. I don’t see any light besides a small spark of a nursing degree in two years. A nursing degree that I would’ve finished by now if I wasn’t busy prioritizing a dying relationship to a man I started a life with here. Now he’s a stranger and he probably hates me and I shouldn’t care but I love him and above all, he is still my heaviest wound.

I should be grateful for what I do have. I feel so disconnected and I feel like I’ll never have a normal brain because I decided marijuana was my life at 13 years old. Here we are 12 foggy years later. Totally lost. Suicidal, selfish and ungrateful.

I’ve held on this long for the people I love, so when am I going to hold on for myself? When am I going to want to? Things never looked up, and all the Instagram quotes give me false hope. I don’t know where to begin, but this. This feels like the end.

0 notes

fentasticshit · 2 years

Text

TONY

so much happening in a day nowadays.

so I did tell him how I feel, about Id like to log off whatsapp,

and maybe we shouldnt talk so often, it hurts everytime I text him. maybe he should let me know if he ever comes to taiwan again.

his response was surprising tho,

he was like "lol alright, no worries, Ill let you know"

I was like wtf? just like that?

然後想了想, 也是, 他可是個水手, 什麼風浪沒看過?

ok I should keep everything down here.

it hurts but, I shoulld.

"Morning, DO you have a moment?"

"Goodmorningg"

"Yes I do"

"Had a good sleep?"

"are you sleeping? or trying to stay awake?"

"Im awake haha" "Watching Netflix."

"ok I was wondering if I can talk to you about something."

"Sure about what"

"You can always talk to me"

"I was thinking how about you let me know when you ever come back to taiwan?"

"Ofcourse I would, why?"

"no I mean since we dont know when thats happening yet."

"I know.. but I would?"

"I dont hAve info yet. But i will keeo you updated ofcourse.."

"yeah you have my number"

"Yes i do" "WHats the problem? I dont understand" it hurts whenever I read it god. hes so innocent.....lmao

"I like you so much it just hurts whenever I text you"

"so I was thinking, Id probably log off whatsapp (so you can work, and I'll stop bugging you with questions of "when we going to meet" quesions"

"Lol, alright. No worries, I will let you know."

"I understand, no hard feelings"

"FUnny, we talked about this, that this happens tome often while dating. Get to know someone, i go for job, and poof person is gone."

"Ah well, get used to it i guess"

"No tony"

"I didnt know how to put this better, but its an discussion.

"I get it"

"Id like to know what you think, I want to be there to support you."

"If you want me to be there, just tell me. I just dont want my anxiety interrupt you with those bunch of work lol"

"and we met for 1 day!!! so we need lots of lots of communication"

"If i cant answer, i will not. You are not interrupting me from work, will never let that happen."

"really?"

"Work and private life are seperate things for me."

"Yes"

"Oh.."

"If I work, i work without any thoughts about private life."

"I need to focus, so i would not let that mix up.' "So dont worry. If i cant answer due to work; i will not lol"

"Ok fuck yeah. you have to know I barel know you! so Id have my doubts." "Imnot walking away or ANYTHING"

"I understand. But doubts about what" "Then thats good" "Otherwie you know where the exit is..its a choice lol"

"Ok so another thing is" "Its not easy for me to travel, so I thought how is it going to work? since you're away" "lol i see that youre so used to it now"

"I am. I dont allow bullshit in my life that can make me sad, so it it so, i can take distance." "I dont know yet, we will need to figure this out i guess?"

"I know youve had too much bullshit." "You hate me now?" "ok...I'll step up"

"I dont hate you." "why should i lol" "What you mean?"

"Be stronger in any way" "Havent had anything to do with men for three years, still getting used to this."

"Ah..well yes..otherwise it will put you down" "I understand" "Love is hard eh D:"

"Its not, the hardest part is expecting someone will be there for you. I know I want to." "so you dated, it seems like youre never open to me about this part." "I honestly imagined you probably had yur heart broken many times you just dont want to think about it. also we only met for a day lol"

"I tried, and everytime i met someone in my last week at home. Then they left after i went offshore. I told you" "Brb i go to some work" ":-*"

"Ok i'll just put my texts here. ok so tell me if im wrong...are we doing this like come kind of compitition, I have to stand out before those girls (those live in your heart) becasue you never had a chance to get over those, you just work" "like i told you, truth is the only thing im seeking, and i want to know theres anyone youre still trying to get over with, because i dont want to be replacement for anything"

"Yessss bit busy"

"ok"

"They are not in my heart....i do not have to get over anyone lol. I am east at letting go. Dont worry"

"Work, and different mindset i think"

.......so that was pretty much it, I shared two photos, and told him hes welcome to grab a coffee here which is a lie too.

Im all about games I guess.

I just crave attention.

I wasnt satisfied with his answer, but since Id like to win.

Id like to stand out among all those women he dated.

then I'll see what id like to do from there.

mayybe just for the thrill of it,

maybe hes doing it for the same thing.

but you just cant be scared to have your heart broken now.

I hate him to be honest.

I hate him for being such a manly man.

with such contentration on his job.

because he could easily get away from so many things.

if Im pissed, he couldve just said "busy atm" then dont have to deal with anything at all.

Im not sure why Im going along with this.

I act differently in front of him.

I guess hes truthful.

also Josh Lee just proposed.

not me of course lmfao

another chubby girl .....

I got mixed emotions about it.

seeing the prey I once had, now is happily...commited

I feel strange.

and Im now have to deal with...THIS.

KARMA.

0 notes

flamegalley99 · 2 years

Text

Biden Retains Pricey Trump Visa Coverage Denying Chinese Language Grad Students

For instance, Beijing has issued provisional procedures efficient Sept. 5, 2013. Over the weekend nonetheless he known as and advised me the corporate licence had expired and that both he and the corporate had relocated to a different city and weren’t coming back so I ought to go and fetch my passport myself. I waited until the holiday was over and went there at present, Oct. eighth and I was requested why I didn't go on Friday to which I told them about my HR supervisor. I was informed that I even have to bring him with me or else they might not return my passport. I told them once more that he had said he would not come and that I have to do it myself to which the officer informed me he would give me one week to deliver him to PSB or else they would hold on to my passport and that this was the one solution for me. The acceptance notice will serve as proof that a person is legally in China. However, the State Council didn't incorporate into the final laws proposals to those receipts valid for functions such as home travel on trains and airplanes in addition to for momentary residence registration at resorts and bank transactions. A Beijing PSB officer lately informed China Daily, the purposes for which the acceptance receipt can be used are presently under evaluation by a quantity of government companies, together with transportation agencies. On Oct. 17, 2013, Beijing PSB mentioned orally that if an applicant wants to use the acceptance discover for travel, he or she must specifically request that the discover embody a scanned photo. The statute and laws are silent as to the results of filing late. 5.2 Clients must make their visa functions at an applicable time in accordance with their travel arrangement. Under no circumstances will the Chinese Visa Application Service Facility be accountable or liable for any delay of journey arrangement because of a Client's inappropriate action in regard to the time of submitting the visa utility or the visa evaluation result of the Embassies and Consulates. 1.6 “Clients” refers to any individual or a third get together approved by the previous submitting a Chinese visa application to the Chinese Visa Application Service Facility, together with individuals, travel businesses or different businesses. 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Different types of travel paperwork are legitimate for different lengths of time. Attention Required! The Office of Civil Liberties, Privacy and Transparency leads the integration of civil liberties and privateness protections into the policies, procedures, packages and actions of the Intelligence Community . Its overarching goal is to make sure that the IC operates inside the full scope of its authorities in a fashion that protects civil liberties and privacy, supplies acceptable transparency, and earns and retains the trust of the American folks. The ODNI Office of Strategic Communications is liable for managing all inquiries and correspondence from the general public and the media. Before contacting ODNI, please evaluation to see if we've already posted the data you need. Many recreational areas including National Parks have COVID-19 restrictions and mask-wearing rules. I really hope, as with Canada, they add MÉXICO to the list once more on February 28!! 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I'm wondering why that's and if it will be changed? Canada has one of many highest vaccine charges on the earth greater than the UK and US. We were sad to see our country removed as we had been planning to go to in April. Cambodia Visa For Chinese Citizens All countries have particular admissions requirements for students to gain acceptance into a university. Learn extra about the ins and outs of admission to programs in China, and what you should apply, depending in your citizenship. Tuition fees in China could vary, depending on the level of schooling. Switzerland Schengen Visa Application And Appointment Process Travellers can now apply for an Online Swiss Schengen Visa, and some candidates won't must attend an appointment. How We Completed Our Turkish e Visa Applications Andrew Graham walks us via his struggles while applying and attempting to pay for his or her Turkish e-Visas. 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If you might have been deported or eliminated, or unlawfully returned to the United States with out admission after a previous removing or illegal presence, you may file this form to obtain consent to reapply for admission to the United States. China normally doesn't issue tourist visas for longer than 60 days and when you require longer you’ll either have to work directly with the consulate or apply for a special visa. If an agent asks you for paperwork, what you need to present differs relying on your immigration standing. U.S. citizens don't have to hold proof of citizenship if they're in the united states If you have legitimate immigration documents and are over the age of 18, the legislation requires that you simply to hold those documents with you. If you're requested by an immigration agent to produce them, present them to the agent. If you're an immigrant without paperwork, you'll be able to decline the officer’s request, though an agent may then ask you more questions. 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At the tip of final 12 months, it primarily stopped allowing anyone to deliver a spouse or child into the country. Since January, vacationers arriving in Beijing from countries with severe outbreaks have needed to endure weekly anal swab exams whereas in quarantine, with fecal material tested for traces of the virus. Online group since 2004Two days in the past, I shared the submit "PU letter issuance quickly suspended in Shenzhen" due to the policy adjustment, and that is the new coverage anticipated. The Chinese Embassy within the United States remains to be liable for reviewing the certificates of Nucleic Acid take a look at and IgM antibody take a look at for China-bound passengers departing from Dallas. Here is the newest replace for passengers who take a look at constructive for IgM antibodies due to vaccination. The bloc's proposal said that four vaccines made by developers in the US and the United Kingdom and accredited by the European Medicines Agency shall be valid for journey within the EU. Life in Guilin and at CLI has largely returned to normal, though mask carrying is still fairly widespread and is required in some locations. Visa Coverage Of Taiwan If you propose to enter North Korea, learn the North Korea Travel Advisory. Travelers ought to observe that U.S. passports aren't legitimate for journey to, in, or through North Korea, except they are specially validated by the Department of State. Read the Department of State’s COVID-19 web page before planning any worldwide journey, read the Embassy COVID-19 page for the PRC and the Consulate General COVID-19 page for the Hong Kong SAR for country-specific COVID-19 info. The application charges of China Visa on Arrival and the worth of getting or renewing a visa on the exit and entry administration of the native PSB inside China are the identical as a single-entry visa, ie., CNY 168 for most nations. Once the applicant’s spouse arrives within the United States with an approved green card, they'll be ready to work instantly as a permanent resident, while not having to file any extra applications. For extra info on marriage-based green playing cards, click right here. The function of the visa interview is for the consular officer to determine whether or not you're certified to obtain a US scholar visa and, if that is the case, which visa class is suitable for you. Be ready to answer questions regarding ties to your house nation, your English language skills, your academic background, this system within the US to which you might have been admitted, and proof of your monetary sources. 4) Please do not make travel preparations earlier than your visa is granted. 2) Please examine and ensure that each one materials are right in accordance with the necessities, and put them into the envelope so as. Make sure the recipient data is correct and hold the tracking quantity to trace the standing of your mail. Which might be used to mail the visa/passport again to you. For those who have been taken Covid-19 Chinese vaccines, the vaccination certificates and the corresponding kinship certificates and so forth. shall even be submitted.

#台胞證

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elderbrick · 3 years

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hearing the phrase "i've never told anyone this before" hits all of my core wants and needs

#one of my best friends and i stayed up really late last night #and he told me about this date he went on in taiwan #and it was such a magical story #he was getting blushy and taking about how it was like from a movie #it was so cute #and he said that he never told anyone that story because he felt like they wouldn't care #because it didn't end with them having sex #and i loved it #it was such a wonderful story #and i love hearing about him being happy and adorable like that #king shit

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absolutebl · 3 years

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10 BLs That Are Honest to a Queer Experience

Note that I said ”a queer experience” not “the queer experience”? Everyone experiences coming out, coming of age, and self discovery differently.

(Presented in no particular order.)

1. Color Rush (Korea)

The mono/probe color rush fantasy element that drives this narrative is a direct allegory for coming to terms with homosexuality in a hostile society. The fact that is it simplified and allegorical actually makes it more impactful and clever instead of less. It’s amplified, not watered down. This is the kind of movie you could show a non-queer and then after they go through what Yeon Woo goes through, you can explain “that’s a lot like meeting your first crush when you’re gay.” Fear and grief wrapped up in realization of a queer identity is really common to the queer experience and rarely depicted so stylishly on screen. That Color Rush managed to do this through allegory is a remarkable piece of cinema.

Color Rush is on Viki.

2. I Told Sunset About You (Thailand)

I don’t have a ton to say about ITSAY because I haven’t managed to finished it. But in this instance, that’s the point. This one was too close to my own queer journey and it seriously messed with my head about 2/3 of the way through. So I’ve never managed to complete it. Which means that, for me, this one is absolutely and completely honest to the queer experience. Too honest. So It has to make this list.

I Told Sunset About You is hard to find, sadly.

3. Gameboys (the Philippines)

Gameboys tackles lots of things, including online dating and the ramifications of coming out for family, self worth, and self perception, all neatly packaged in the lockdown C19 experience. It also features two out bisexuals and a gay character, and one of those is a supportive queer bestie ex-girlfriend. If that isn’t germane to the bog standard incestuous codependent queer found family many of us enjoy, I don’t know what is.

Gameboys is on Netflix.

4. His the Movie (Japan)

His is about being a grown adult and still struggling with coming out as gay. It addresses the consequences of life choices disingenuous to identity. Nagisa turns up on Shun’s doorstep with his precocious daughter in tow. This is a touch confusing to Shun since they were each others first love. Shun, an introvert, has retreated from society, rejecting the world before it can reject him, already brokenhearted because without Nagisa he never had a reason to fight. Nagisa went the opposite way, tried to pretend to be something he was not and ended up with a daughter he adores and a wife who hates him. If they want to be together again, they each have to figure out how to cope with the consequences of choosing not to be out for most of their lives.

His is on Viki.

5. Like in the Movies | Gaya Sa Pelikula (the Philippines)

Karl, a student living alone, runs short of funds and ends up becoming housemates with Vald an out and proud chaos gay. This leads Karl into an identity crisis and journey of self discovery. This kind of forced proximity trope is really common in BL, but what Gaya does is handle it in a messy honestly queer way. It includes Vlad’s attitude in response to Karl’s shaken behavior. The frustration many out queers feel:

I am not a tool on your journey. I am on my own journey, and I don’t owe you anything because I happen to be the person who made you realize you aren’t straight. But then again, you are super hot.

It’s a place many of us have been. It’s having to ask, do you have a crush on me, or do you just want to be me, and am I willing to teach you, when I’ve already taught so many? There’s a gritty honesty to this show partly because Pinoy BL is gritty by nature and has more queer rep than most.

Gaya Sa Pelikula is on YouTube.

6. Papa & Daddy (Taiwan)

This show is balls to the rainbow gay domesticity. It’s got everything: queer found family, lesbian sisterhood, YouTube cooking channels, fitting in with the moms at daycare, and Pride. Honestly, you really couldn’t ask for more (except the ending, sigh). Don’t worry it’s not sad, no one dies, it’s just a cliff hanger. Honestly? I would really just love every BL producing country to give us their version of this. (Vietnam answered the call, incidentally, with Me Chon Dau Cao.)

Papa & Daddy is hard to find.

7. 3 Will Be Free (Thailand)

This show probably doesn’t qualify as BL but it does qualify as very very queer. What it does well is examine many different aspects of queer identity, morality, and life choices based on repression and or acceptance of that identity using the framework of a crime triller. It’s an adventure narrative, our three main characters are on the run together, being chased by assassins who are themselves dealing with the grief that results from love, all kinds of love. Meanwhile the 3 protagonists fall in love with each other and explore the boundaries and meaning of friendship. It’s actually a remarkable piece of story telling, using a pressure cooker of tension and suspense to bring about investigations into what love, romance, friendship, and identity actually mean.

3 Will Be Free is on GMMTV’s YouTube with subs.

8. Life: Love On the Line - directors cut (Japan)

Like His, Life: Love on the Line is also an exploration of suppression and the limits we impose on ourselves when we are not honest about who we love. In high school, serious and self contained Ito fell in love with Nishi, the manic pixie dream boy of the dream he didn’t know he had. Nishi, emotionally and mentally fragile, struggled to fit into the world. Ito, however, found it all too easy, except for the whole - ya know - gay thing. This movie is about Ito’s willingness to sacrifice not just himself but his love (and even Nishi himself) to social and familial expectations and the misery that results. It has a hard fought happy ending that then follows them through the rest of their lives in a (slightly unnecessary but welcome) epilogue montage.

Life: Love On the Line (Directors Cut) is on Viki.

9. Love Sick (Thailand)

This is one of those BLs that owes almost nothing to yaoi manga, although it started a number of tropes that are now endemic to Thai BL. What it is, instead, is a well scripted story of bisexual self-discovery and the inherent chaos of loving someone of the opposite gender for the first time, all wrapped up in hormones, existing relationships, and communication issues. It is high school queer angst at its messiest. Nothing is going to be easy for these boys because queer isn’t easy but also because life isn’t easy... welcome to adulthood.

The only other Thai BL I know of to face this head on is Love Mechanics (and Nitiman seems headed this way), and people dislike these narratives for the same reason. The characters cannot come to terms with their own identities cleanly or easily, and they drag others into the mire with them. Honestly though, who hasn’t been there?

Love Sick is on Netflix and YouTube.

10. Lovely Writer (Thailand)

Lovely Writer has a softness to its queerness that has more to do with Thai BL growing up and self reflecting than any actual queer authenticity. As such it probably won’t appeal to those who don’t already have at least some Thai Bl watching experience. What Lovely Writer does, at heart, is reexamine Thai BL as a genre through a queer lens, but in a very gentle way. It’s not parody or pastiche, but it is critical and self reflective. It’s less outright honestly queer, than it is looking at what BL has done to queerness and trying to correct for some of those mistakes. Whether it is ultimately successful in this matter is going to depend on the watcher’s relationship to BL and queer identity. But that’s what makes this show beautiful, interesting, and thought provoking. And I, for one, applaud the effort even if I didn’t personally connect to the characters.

Lovely Writer is on YouTube.

MORE TO CONSIDER...

Not Me

Bad Buddy

Secret Crush On You

Old Fashion Cupcake

Blueming (maybe? Korean ins’t good on this)

Just Friends (except when it is)

Your Name Engraved Herein

DNA Says Love You

Honorable Mention

My Lascivious Boss (Vietnam)

I hesitated with this one because is has some... issues. What I like about this series is how much queer rep it has from the get go, including out gay besties, cross dressing, kink, and gender fluidity. What it isn’t really facing up to is the identity grappling that should result. Instead it has (like most Vietnamese BL) a very light touch in such matters, almost as if such struggles are too serious to be put on screen. But it is really fun. For me, being honestly queer doesn’t necessarily mean the characters have to go through an identity crisis and self recriminations, so it worked.

Post dated mid 2022.

(source)

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marktuansvevo · 3 years

Text

got7: valentines day dates!

warning(s); a little bit of suggestive content in youngjae and bam’s parts, cursing

happy valentines, babes!! ♡

mark;

mark showers you with fancy gifts, no matter how hard you protest. “you don’t have to so much money on me,” you would say through the bathroom door as you slipped into the pretty baby pink floor length gown you had just unwrapped. “you know just spending time with you is the only thing i ever want.”

mark hummed at the sentiment, not looking up from his phone. “i would have whisked you away to taiwan if there wasn’t a goddamned pandemic.”

when you walked out of the bathroom, he instantly brightened, motioning for you to turn around so he could see how well the dress fit. “you always look so pretty,” he said, giggling. “can you wear that to dinner? i love how you look in it.”

now it was your turn to coo. “mark, valentine’s is cheesy. we don’t have to go out, i can order us takeout.”

“stop avoiding all the attention. why can’t i properly show the world how much i love you?” mark raised his eyebrow at you. “you deserve to be spoiled. period!”

“you can show the world how much you love me publicly,” you got on your tiptoes to kiss right below his ear, nipping a little. you smiled at the small giggle he let out. “but just know, i’m showing you how much i love you privately tonight.”

you expected him to blush, mark always got flustered when you talked to him about the bedroom. instead, he smirked at you, biting his lip. “good, because i bought you lingerie for tonight, too. you can be my pretty model.”

now you were the one blushing.

jaebeom;

different from mark, jaebeom keeps the valentines festivities private. he knows that you had a big presentation to pitch in front of the higher ups at your company, so he knew you were stressed. he wanted to relieve you of any and all stress and take care of you for the night. jaebeom made you your favorite meal, as well as a red velvet cake, and had bought three beautiful rose bouquets for you, each one representing one of the years you had spent together.

you walked through the front door, and even from the kitchen he could hear you sigh loudly. it must have been a long day.

“y/n?”

“hmmm?”

“happy valentines,” he whispered, pulling you into a hug and giving you a peck on the lips. “i love you.”

“i love you too. uhm, i don’t mean to be a downer baby, but i don’t feel like going out tonight,” you sighed, resting your head on his chest.

“rough day?” he frowned when you nodded. valentines was always one of your favorite days, so seeing you so down made his heart hurt. “well, good thing i made us dinner so we don’t have to go out.”

you picked your head off his shoulder, looking up at him. “you did?”

“yes, baby, don’t look so surprised,” he laughed, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen to see pasta and cake on the stove and the three bouquets on the dining room table. “we may have to sit at the island tonight, there’s a garden at the table.”

the two of you sat as the island of the kitchen, him listening intently as you told him about your day from hell. he could tell by your voice that you were exhausted, so once you finished with dessert, he took your plates and put them in the sink.

“cmon babe, you deserve to relax. let me run you a bath and i’ll do the dishes tonight.”

“why don’t you join me instead?” you asked sweetly. “just wanna be close to you.”

he winked at you. “anything for my valentine.”

jackson;

you were under strict instructions from your husband to meet him at a fancy restaurant with your two beautiful daughters in tow, since he had to work all morning and couldn’t make it to their schools valentines class parties. he felt so bad when his youngest, elizabeth, who was still in preschool started to cry when he told her he couldn’t come to her party. the oldest, natalie, who had just turned nine, put on a brave face, but you and jackson could tell she was crushed.

“cmon, girls, daddy doesn’t like when we’re late,” you urged, smiling softly as you watched natalie help beth change into her jumper.

“does daddy have gifts for us?” natalie asked, her eyes wide.

“mm, yes honey, and i have one for you too,” you smiled knowingly as your girls began to scream in excitement, almost knocking you down as they exited their shared room.

you made it to the restaurant, where you let out a breath of relief. the girls wouldn’t stop pestering you about what your present for them was. you thought you might drop the ball and spill your little secret, but you kept your mouth shut, singing along to one of your husband’s songs that was on the radio, and the girls followed suit.

you walked them into the restaurant, where jackson was sitting alone with balloons and three gift bags – one for each of his girls.

“daddy!” your girls screamed in unison, running through the restaurant to get to their daddy. you watched the looks on the couples face as you passed by – some looked at the girls with joy in their eyes, while others just rolled their eyes, probably just wanting a quiet, romantic night out. you just smiled, nothing could bring your spirit down.

“ah, my girls! i missed you so much!” he said, scooping them both into his arms. “how were your parties, sweeties?”

you sat across from your husband who was taking in the stories of his daughters days, replying with the same amount of enthusiasm that they did. after the girls were done talking, natalie crossed her arms.

“daddy, are you trying to distract beth and i from these gifts?”

you giggled as jackson crossed his arms over his chest. “isn’t valentines supposed to be about love? i just want to hear how my girls are. i love you all very much, you know.”

your heart somersaulted. you fell more and more in love with him day after day.

the girls opened their gifts – a stuffed clifford the big red dog for beth (he was her favorite right now), and a lego set for natalie. they both thanked him endlessly. “daddy, will you help me put this together?” natalie asked, almost shyly.

“of course, baby girl.”

“mommy, what is your gift for us?”

jackson studied your face as you took the rectangular box that was tied up with a single black bow out of your pocket. there was a big, stupid grin on your face. “this is for all of you. i want you all to know i love you so much.”

“go ahead, girls, open it,” jackson urged, still studying your face. you winked at him.

“uh, mommy, what is this?”

jackson’s eyes were blown wide as he looked at the two positive pregnancy tests. “tell me you’re joking?” his eyes were misty now. the two of you had been trying for a third child for two years and had been failing. your daughters looked at the two of you, dissatisfied with your present.

“do you know what this means, girls?” jackson asked in a whisper, squeezing your hand from across the table. “you’re going to have a little brother or sister in a couple of months.”

“no way!!!” they cheered, hugging each other.

“this is the best valentines gift i have ever received, thank you baby,” jackson said. you sent him a wink.

“couldn’t have made it without you.”

jinyoung;

you were glowing as you looked over at jinyoung from across the table. he smiled as you just beamed at him, playing footsie under the table. it was 3am at the diner off campus, and nobody was around to see you two. you were happy, sucking on your milkshake. jinyoung just admired you before saying; “you have sex hair.”

“and who’s fault is that?”

the two of you had been the best of friends for as long as you could remember, and now, your senior year of college, the two of you had been best friends with benefits. you had been hooking up since the day you had called him sobbing about an exam, and he had consoled you by kissing you. it’s been history ever since then.

“when are you going to admit that we were made for each other,” jinyoung was nothing if not blunt. he smiled gently, reaching across the table and holding your hand. you shrinked in on yourself, blushing.

“i thought we agreed it’d be too much,” you said, stealing one of his fries off his plate, avoiding his gaze. “with senior thesis and projects…”

“i never agreed to that. you said that and i just went along with it because i didn’t want to lose what we have. i think it’s bullshit to say that us dating is too much. we see each other at least twice a week,” he paused before smirking. “you’re sitting here in my pajama pants with sex hair. on valentines day”

he had a point. the two of you always made time to see each other – studying at a local coffee shop on mondays and sometimes hooking up on the weekends (to relieve stress, of course). you couldn’t deny the chemistry that the two of you had…and graduation was only a couple months away...would it really be so crazy to start dating right now?

“i know you adore me,” jinyoung smiled, saying it softly. “and i know that i adore you. so what’s the problem?”

you looked down. “i’m scared. i don’t want to lose you.”

jinyoung knew you had insecurities in relationships – the last guy you dated had moved away without even telling you and moved in with one of his girlfriends. he has helped you through that time of heartbreak in your life…and he didn’t want that to ever happen to you again. he wouldn’t stand for it.

“y/n, i would never hurt you.”

you squeezed his hand. “just give me some time, okay? you’re right, i do adore you.”

“i’ll give you whatever time you need.”

jinyoung picked up the tab and you drove back home in silence, your fingers interlaced with his. you looked over at him in the passenger side. “nyoungie, will you spend the night?”

he kissed your fingers. “of course, sweetheart.”

when you woke up the next morning, you’re alone. you immediately panic until you smell….eggs?

you walk into the kitchen to see jinyoung flipping eggs, and pretty flowers on the countertop. he smiles widely. “good morning, my valentine.”

cheesy bastard.

you wrap your arms around his back, breathing in his scent. “i don’t need anymore time.”

“hm?”

“i want to be yours, jinyoung.”

jinyoung turns around in your arms before kissing you. “i have always been yours.”

youngjae;

“youngjae, are you there?” you giggled as you sat on your shared bed.

“im here baby,” he said. “jinyoung keeps bugging me to watch with us.”

“tell him no! it’s date night,” you frowned. “im gonna go get a bottle of wine.”

“okay, honey.”

you walk into the kitchen, admiring the flowers youngjae had ordered for you for the tenth time that day. you grabbed your favorite bottle of wine and scooped up the little sleepy ball of fluff before heading back into the bedroom. although you would have loved to have physically spent valentines with youngjae, you realized this was the best it was gonna get.

“get the wine?” your boyfriend asked before squealing at the screen. “coco!!! oh, i miss you both so much!!!”

“is that coco!!” you heard jinyoung squeal too. mark came into the frame and started cooing too.

“jinyoung, mark, date night!” you giggled, lifting coco into your lap, shaking the little paw to say “hi.”

“i miss you guys,” you tell the boys. “i really do, but can jae and i enjoy valentines together? we just want some alone time.”

“ahh, okay y/n, happy valentines,” jinyoung winked at you.

“you really should come out here with us, they never listen to me that well,” youngjae says. “you look so pretty. i wish i was there with you.”

you and youngjae had been in a long distance relationship for three years now, and it got easier, but there was just some days you longed for each other. you knew this was one of those days, you could tell by the longing in his eyes.

“jae. i miss you,” you pouted. “coco, say bye to your daddy, mommy has to show him something.”

youngjae knew you were up to something. “jae...how about we skip the movie? i bought something for you,” before you could hear him answer, you started stripping out of your pjs, showing off your brand new lingerie. it left absolutely nothing to the imagination and made you look so sexy. and it was red, too. you could hear youngjae gulp, his pupils blown wide.

“why must you torture me?”

“oh, i mean, we can watch a movie instead....,” you teased, pulling down a strap to reveal more cleavage to your awaiting boyfriend. “its up to you, ill slip into my pajamas and we can —.”

“don’t you even think about stopping,” he growled, shifting the computer down to show you him palming his bulge. you grinned.

your plan was unfolding marvelously.

bam;

you didn’t want to make a big deal about bam working on valentines day. you knew it was a cheesy and cliche holiday...but that didn’t stop you from feeling sad that you couldn’t spend the whole day in your mans’ arms. you pushed the feeling away, texting your boyfriend “happy vday! love u”

you busied yourself with school work to ignore the hurt you felt in your heart, but you couldn’t get your mind off bam. you scrolled through your camera roll to pick the pictures for your instagram post. before you could post a picture of you posing with bam on the beach, a call interrupted you.

“y/n, what are you doing right now??” jackson asks in a panicked voice.

“uh, working on a project...are you okay?”

“bam just fell, he’s in pain. he keeps asking for you, can you take him to the ER??”

“ill be there in ten.”

you sped all the way to the dance studio, bracing yourself for a broken ankle or a gash in his face. oh, god, you wanted your heart to stop racing.

“where’s my baby boy??” you asked jaebeom, who was smirking when you first saw him, but the smirk was completely wiped off his face when he saw your misty eyes. “jaebeom, is he okay? why couldn’t you have brought him to the ER! i could have met you there!”

“uh, y/n, come with me. and stop crying,” jaebeom led you into the studio where bam was sitting on the floor. the studio was surrounded with gifts all wrapped up in pink and red, heart shaped balloons, as well a buffet of your favorite foods. you looked at jaebeom in confusion, who just winked at you and closed the door behind him.

“happy valentines, baby,” there was a knowing smile on his face.

“you are such an ass. i almost had a heart attack driving over here,” you whined, pulling away from his hug.

“y/n!! i was just trying to surprise you,” your boyfriend said, picking one of your gifts up and handing it to you. “please let me spoil you all day. i knew you were upset with me for coming to work, let me give you the valentines i know you want.”

you smiled. “how can i argue with such a big softie?”

“shut up, i cant help that i love you,” he was pouting now. “now let me eat whipped cream off of your body.”

yugyeom;

“how do you expect to meet someone if you have an engagement ring on your finger when you’re a single woman?” your new friend, yugyeom asked you. “seems strange to me.”

“maybe i don’t want to date anybody, did you ever think of that?” you asked him. “besides, it wards off all the creeps. hey, there’s a diner at this exit, wanna stop?”

you pulled off the highway to the diner. it was valentine’s, so of course the place was crowded. yugyeom whined. “can’t we just get mcdonalds or something? we’ve been in the car for six hours and im hungry.”

prior to six hours ago, you didn’t know yugyeom. he was bam’s best friend, so you had heard of him in the past. yugyeom was visiting some art school in new york, while you were going home to see your family for your sister’s birthday. wanting to save both of his friends money, he suggested you drive yugyeom to new york. you didn’t know….it was a long drive from chicago, but yugyeom said he would give you half the gas money, so it would be worth it. new york wasn’t cheap.

“exactly, so we should eat a proper meal. we still have six and a half hours left.”

“fine,” he huffed.

the waitress sat you two down and gave you your menus before squealing. everyone in the diner turned their heads. “oh. my. GOD!!! did he propose to you today? that ring is absolutely stunning!!”

“oh, no I –“

“as a matter of fact, i proposed this morning. we’re on our way to new york to tell our families,” yugyeom beamed at her, kicking your foot under the table.

the waitress looked like she might faint. “that is so romantic. whenever you’re ready, dinner’s on the house.”

she scurried away, and many “congratulations” rang throughout the little establishment.

“aw, honey you’re blushing,” yugyeom winked at you. you rolled your eyes. you didn’t know if you were smitten with this guy or if you plainly disliked him.

“don’t point it out, dear,” you played along. “have you figured out what you want to order?”

the two of you ordered and pretended to be a couple the whole meal. you scoured at your friend when he stole some of your french fries off your plate. he just sent a wink in your direction. when you sipped some of your milkshake, he rested his hand in his cheek, staring at you. you giggled.

“yeom, what are you up to?”

“just admiring.”

okay, so you were smitten by him.

the two of you went back to the car, where a small smile was playing on his lips. “that was kind of fun.”

you blushed, sinking into the drivers seat. “i haven’t had that much fun in years.”

“maybe you should get back into dating. i think you would make anyone have a good time with you.” he said offhandedly. “that ring is going to prevent you from ever going on a date again.”

“dating is never that easy,” you tried to reason with him…you had been burned so many times in the past, why would you ever want to let yourself get hurt again.

“it was with us,” since your eyes were on the road, you couldn’t see him shrug. “i’m going to take a nap, happy valentines.”

you glanced over at his sleeping form, smiling to yourself. you managed to take the ring off your finger without crashing the car and set it in the center console. beside you, yugyeom opened his eyes.

“does this mean i can take you out once we get to new york?”

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luvknow · 4 years

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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wingsofkpop · 3 years

Text

Hiraeth - I.VIII: These Paths We Walk

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatural!AU, Dark Magic!AU, heavy Angst, light Fluff, eventual Smut

warnings: Mature language, mentions of death and murder, violence, gore and blood, some satanic themes, etc.

word count: 7,1k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?…

chapter directory

Necromancy is a form of spiritual divination in which the executioner acts in the summoning of and communication with the lost souls of the dead. Its origins date back to the ancient Greeks, as the word necromancy is composed of Greek terms νεκρός (nekrós), "dead," and μαντεία (manteía), "divination." During the European Middle Ages, necromancy grew to be associated with black magic by traditional witches. As a result, its practice became strictly forbidden due to its disruption in the balance of nature. History recalls only one powerful witch ever held the ability to raise the dead at will—

“Still doing research for that special project?” Your mind snaps back to reality at the sudden inquiry. Tearing your gaze from the textbook, you look up to find none other than your favorite student in front of your desk. Hyunjin offers his usual crooked smile at your newfound attention and raises a questioning eyebrow.

You can’t help but roll your eyes before answering, “You know the point of a study period is to—I don’t know—study? Preferably by yourself?”

He snickers. “I have a question that requires your extensive mastery in the literary arts, Ms. (L/N).”

“I’m sure you do.” You release a heavy sigh, not bothering to voice your annoyance at the use of your surname. Instead, you deliver Hyunjin a shake of your head before gesturing his continuance with a wave of your hand.

“I’m a little confused by the ending of The Grapes of Wrath,” Hyunjin pauses, “okay—a lot confused. I mean, why would Rose of Sharon breastfeed a stranger she literally just met? It’s weird…”

You chuckle at his scrunched expression. “You’re right. It is pretty weird.”

“So why’d she do it?”

“Well, Rose of Sharon knew the stranger was starving to death,” You begin, leaning back in your chair to better hold Hyunjin’s gaze, “so you could say she wanted to give him a second chance.”

“But why? She doesn’t even know him.”

“Maybe not, but if you had the ability to save another person’s life—be it a stranger—wouldn’t you?”

“But even after all her and her family went through, I don’t understand how she was able to find it in herself to do that. Especially after the loss of her baby.”

“Humanity is a complicated, yet beautiful force, Hyunjin.” You hum gently, “Even among all the cruelty, hatred and hopelessness, it still manages to find a way to prevail—that ending is proof that against all odds, humanity will always win.”

“I never thought about it like that…” Hyunjin shakes his head in disbelief, “Thanks, (Y/N)...”

“It’s what I do, kiddo.”

While the student grows silent to scribble down his realizations, you take the time to skim over your own notes—or lack-there-of, that is.

After Youngjae agreed, albeit rather reluctantly, to assist you in your mission to return Jackson Wang to the land of the living, you spent the past few days cornering the bookstore and mausoleum’s supply of resources about raising the dead. But just your luck, every text thus far has proven to be less than helpful. According to the siphoner, necromancy is one of the more rare magical arts that is only practiced by specialized, powerful witches, which, unfortunately, also means there is limited access to such information. Neither you nor Youngjae have been able to find a spell or ritual that can guarantee Jackson’s resurrection without some kind of dire consequence.

Who knew magic could be so complicated?

“You know, you’ve been out for the past week…” You lift your head to meet Hyunjin’s gaze once again. “Is… Is everything okay? I don’t mean to pry, but it’s just so unlike you to miss any classes…”

The typical university student probably wouldn’t give a damn about a missing professor, much less an absent TA. Hyunjin’s visual apparent concern spreads warmth throughout your chest—you are powerless to hold back the small smile that stretches across your lips.

“A couple of my roommate’s friends disappeared out of the blue last week, so I just needed a few days to help her out.” You raise a playful eyebrow, “Don’t tell me you missed me?”

“What? No way.” Hyunjin scoffs, “Though I did have to use Sparknotes for the past few reading assignments and barely passed Wednesday's quiz—” You burst into laughter, reeling your companion into the same fit only seconds later. After a brief moment, Hyunjin manages to collect his composure and finish, “—I am glad everything is okay… and that you’re back.”

You nod with a smile. “I appreciate that.”

Aside from the daily meetings with Youngjae and nightly cry-piles with Sana, the past few days have proven to be quite uneventful. Jackson has not appeared in your bedroom since that first night, and true to your word, you haven’t told Mark about your quest for his revival. God knows what kind of Hell would break loose if that were to happen. You also haven’t visited the Prime residence since the day you caught Jaebeom with his drop dead—mind the pun—gorgeous vampire conquest. You’ve been meaning to call Jinyoung, but between your hours pilfering through useless research texts, comforting your distraught roommate and attempting to track down your M.I.A. best friend, you haven’t quite found the time.

And though you’d never admit it to anyone, you needed some time alone—to think.

A rather obnoxious bout of laughter tears you from your thoughts, which is quickly followed by a scold from Professor Park. In an attempt to find the source, you peer past Hyunjin’s form and the sea of other students to the very back of the classroom where a group of young girls are utilizing the period as social hour. Amongst the familiar faces sits a pretty female student you don’t quite recognize, having never encountered her around campus before.

And although you can barely see her, something about her demeanor seems… off.

“Hyunjin? Who’s that girl back there?”

Hyunjin turns to examine the subject of interest before returning with a shrug, “According to my sister, she’s some exchange student from Taiwan. I haven’t met her, but I think Yeji said her name is Tzuyu.”

“And she transferred here this week?”

He shakes his head. “Actually, today is the first day anyone has seen her.”

You go to inquire further, but the booming call of Professor Park announcing the end of class beats you to it. Hyunjin bids you one final thank you and a goodbye before sprinting off to meet his friends at the classroom exit. It is not until him, Professor Park and the remainder of the students are long out the door do you return to your research. However, the moment you manage to relocate your place, a sugary-sweet voice commands your attention once again:

“If I could bother you for a moment, Ms. (L/N), I need your help…”

“Of course.” You mask your annoyance with as genuine a smile as you can muster and turn your gaze to the student. “What can I do for…” Your smile immediately falters at the sight of the young woman from earlier in front of your desk—only in this instance, you can definitely recognize her…

It’s none other than Miss Aphrodisiac herself from the Project Estate.

She offers a radiant smile, but the feature seems less than friendly.

“Hello again, (Y/N). I don’t believe we properly met during our last meeting… I’m Tzuyu.”

“Yeah, um, I-I wasn’t expecting to see you in my class…” You chuckle nervously, cautiously sliding your notes inside your book before closing the cover. “What… What are you doing here exactly?”

“With how much the student body rants and raves about their newest teaching assistant, how could I pass up the opportunity to see you in action?” Tzuyu elegantly takes a seat on the edge of your desk before running her fingers through her flawless, auburn locks. Something about the dexterity of her fingers sends goosebumps budding across your skin. “Plus, it’s not everyday I meet one of Jaebeom’s… human companions.”

“It’s not like that.” You insist, “Jaebeom and I barely know each other—”

“Ah. Right.” She giggles, “You’re close with the other brother. My mistake.”

You bite your tongue, holding back the snide comment that would likely lead to the dismembering of your head from your body. Instead, you swallow what little remains of your pride, rise from your seat and ask stiffly, “You said you needed help with something?...”

“You’ve read Macbeth, haven’t you?” Filled with both anxiety and confusion, you watch as Tzuyu takes a pencil from the container of writing tools perched on the surface of your desk. She twirls the utensil between delicate fingertips, gazing at it as if it is the most interesting object on the planet. You don’t need your gut to remind you something is most definitely off with her behavior.

“There’s this one piece of advice that Lady Macbeth tells her husband before he goes off to commit murder: ‘Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under ‘t’... ” She pauses, “Tell me, Ms. (L/N)... What exactly could that mean?”

Your blood runs cold when she fixes her dark gaze on you. No longer interested in the pencil.

You bite the inside of your cheek, attempting to ground the frantic beating of your heart before it literally leaps from your chest and into the palms of your company. Out of instinct, you chance a quick glance at the door—you may not have a mug, but a nine-hundred page, hardcover book to the face might make a pretty good distraction.

“Hm, I suppose you’re more of an expert with prose.” Tzuyu says, lowering the pencil into her lap before hopping to her own feet. “Let’s try a bit of Frankenstein then…”

She begins to stalk toward you, her eyes still locked onto yours like a vice. Your body immediately shuffles backward, attempting to keep as much distance between yours forms as possible. You only get so far—your back meeting the surface of the wall behind you as Tzuyu centers herself a few mere inches away. You can feel her crisp breath on your face as she murmurs:

“‘I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, then I will indulge the other’...”

“What are you—”

Before you can finish your thought, a searing pain paints your vision white. The agony spreads through your veins like wildfire, stealing every ounce of oxygen from your lungs and rendering your knees weak. With a trembling hand, you’re able to save your form from buckling completely to the floor—but not before catching a glimpse of the same pencil impaled in the side of your waist.

“Poetry is much more tasteful, in my opinion.” Tzuyu sighs, licking the blood from her nails as she backs away. You want to say something—scream and call her a plethora of less than appropriate names—but your mind is literal mush between the shock and the excruciating pain. You collapse to the floor with a breathy gasp, cupping your bleeding side with your opposite hand.

The vampire saunters toward the exit. Just as she makes it to the doorway, she whirls around to throw one final innocent smile in your direction: “Do us both a favor and stay away from Jaebeom… I wouldn’t want to scar that pretty face.”

With that, she’s completely gone. If it weren’t for the pencil in your midriff and the blood seeping through your clothes, you would have thought you’d dreamt up the entire encounter.

“Shit…” You gasp, attempting to dislodge the wood from your flesh. It doesn’t budge, deeply embedded between what you assume to be your ribcage. A pained wheeze spills from your throat as you reach for your bag, paying little mind to the bloodied prints your fingers leave in the fabric. After numerous attempts and anguished movements, you manage to fish your cell phone from its pocket. Crimson smears across the screen as you pull up the first contact you can think of.

You really should have taken the rest of the week off.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

From his perch behind a tree, Jinyoung silently stalks the movement of a burly stag as it parades across the forest floor. The creature, unknowing of the predator that hunts from a far, approaches a wild berry bush and begins to feast off its bearings—unknowing that its end is fast approaching.

Jinyoung usually does not like to draw out these moments and would have killed the deer by now. Whether it is due to the absence of his physical strength or the tornado of thoughts tearing through his mind, he simply cannot bring himself to end the animal’s life just yet. There’s something so pure about watching the stag go about its existence, he realizes—he must allow its innocence to prevail a little while longer.

It’s been days since his recovery from the huntress’s attack, but he can still sense the weakness lingering in his bones. While Jaebeom’s blood chased away the fever of the wolf venom, it was not enough to regenerate his body to its full power. If he were to do so, he would need human blood… but that can never happen again. Not in this lifetime.

Animal blood keeps him mobile, and that is more than enough.

A loud snap of breaking branches returns Jinyoung to reality in time to watch the stag tear off into the trees. He makes no move to chase after it, not desiring to waste his strength. After one final glance to his escaped meal, Jinyoung turns and greets the approaching figure with a tight frown:

“I already told you, hyung. I have no interest in accompanying you on a hunt into town.”

“You know, it would be a hell of a lot easier than tracking down food out here…” Jaebeom snickers, “Not to mention, one human equals a dozen squirrels.”

“And as I said, I much prefer the squirrels.” Jinyoung meets Jaebeom’s gaze with a heavy sigh, “I am perfectly fine, hyung.”

“You’re a shitty liar.” Jaebeom shakes his head. “You need human blood.”

“What I need is to find a new fare.” Jinyoung pushes off of his perch to traipse deeper into the forest, but the appearance of a hand on his shoulders halts his pace. He allows Jaebeom to maneuver his form back against the trunk of a tree, welcoming the slight relief the support brings to his muscles. He makes sure to keep his expression blank to mask his instability. But like always, Jaebeom sees straight through him.

“You’re weak, Jinyoung…”

“Nothing a nice rabbit can’t fix.”

Jaebeom purses his lips. “You can’t deny it forever. At least try a blood bag—”

“Why did you give me your blood?” Jinyoung interrupts his companion’s lecture, peering at Jaebeom with unwavering, unblinking eyes. “I thought you wished to punish me?”

“I was going to—I mean, I wanted to…” Jinyoung watches Jaebeom very carefully, noting the frivolous nature of his typically cocky features and hidden message behind his gaze. If he knew any better, Jinyoung would actually believe there to be some shred of humanity left behind those dark irises.

“But you couldn’t.” He finishes.

“Don’t think it means you’re off the hook for working with Tuan.” Jaebeom huffs while taking a few paces backward. Jinyoung opens his mouth to respond, but the hybrid’s hushed murmur emerges instead, “(Y/N) came by last week… to see you.”

Jinyoung holds back a smile. “Did she now?... I suppose you told her about your change of heart then.”

Jaebeom remains silent.

“Jaebeom-hyung…” Jinyoung’s eyes flutter shut as an audible exhale blows past his lips, “You need to tell her.”

“It won’t change anything.” Jaebeom says with a frown, “She made it very clear that she already hates me.”

“(Y/N) is much different than others, hyung—”

“What do I care anyway?” The hybrid tsks, his sullen expression transitioning into one of indifference. “She can hate me as much as she wants. I don’t give a shit.”

“Hyung, please—”

The shrill ring of a cell phone introduces a bout of silence. Jinyoung has never been so annoyed by modern technology since now, grabbing his phone with a less than pleased sigh. He eyes Jaebeom while lifting the device to his ear, wordlessly communicating that the conversation is far from over.

“Hello?”

“Jinyoung?... H-Hey, it’s me.”

“(Y/N)?” Jinyoung’s annoyance completely dissipates at the sound of your quivering voice. He notices how Jaebeom also reacts to your audible presence through the stiffening of his broad shoulders. He shakes it off as unease from your previous encounter and focuses back onto you, “Are… you alright? You seem a bit stressed.”

“Yeah, you can c-call it that…” Your inhale picks up over the line, and Jinyoung cannot help but grow concerned by its unusual heaviness. “You are not going to believe the shitty day I’ve had.”

“What happened?”

“Well, the barista at my campus cafe accidentally made my usual decaf, my boss is seeking revenge for my time off through hundreds of ungraded essays… and I was stabbed… with a pencil.”

Jinyoung’s eyebrows furrow. “I apologize, but I don’t think I understand…”

“Long story short, Jaebeom’s scary, yet incredibly sexy girlfriend paid me a visit and literally stabbed me with a fucking pencil—” Your explanation cuts out into a yelp, which is followed by an array of stuttered curses, “And it—shit—hurts like hell.”

“I’m on my way right now” Jinyoung, heart racing and head spinning, forces himself to his feet and hurries back toward the manor—Jaebeom hightailing close behind, having picked up the entire conversation.

Before Jinyoung can inquire more about your condition, Jaebeom snatches the phone from his grasp and lifts it to his own, “Where did she stab you?”

“Jaebeom?... My-My side… The pencil is wedged between my ribs, I can’t get it out…”

“Don’t worry about removing it. Just try to control the bleeding as best you can.” Jaebeom explains, “Jinyoung and I will be there soon.”

“Wait! Why are you—” Your voice cuts out as Jaebeom ends the call. Jinyoung notices the whiteness of the hybrid’s knuckles as he silently returns his phone. If it were any other situation, Jinyoung would have brought up their chat from earlier, but your wellbeing is on the line. He delivers his companion a dark glare. To his surprise though, Jaebeom’s expression mirrors that of pure, unadulterated anger.

Jinyoung pinches the bridge of his nose before releasing a sigh, “Do I even wish to know why your mistress attacked (Y/N)?”

“I’d like to know too,” Jaebeom scoffs, running a hand through his jet black locks, “considering I told her that (Y/N) was off limits.”

“You find out then.” Jinyoung hisses, “Or I will deal with her myself, and I won’t be as kind.”

“Oh, trust me.” Jinyoung can practically sense the murderous lust spilling from Jaebeom’s pitch black irises—far from the light of humanity. “Kindness is the last thing on my list right now, Jinyoungie.”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“—and then she just acts all innocent! As if she did absolutely nothing wrong! I mean, what kind of self-serving, sadistic bitch does she think she is—Mark? Are you there?”

“Huh?” Mark flutters his eyes open at the sound of his name. He blinks at his surroundings in confusion, still dazed from his abrupt wake-up call, before remembering his phone and the person currently speaking on the line:

“Mark? Don’t tell me I put you to sleep?”

“Nope, nope. I’m here.” Mark replies hurriedly, wiping the remnants of his nap from his eyes. “Luna’s a complete and total bitch, I got you.”

Lia sighs, “Yuna, Mark. Not Luna.”

With a silent yawn, he lifts his arms over his head and expels the kinks from his shoulders. Once his muscles are taunt and stretched, Mark releases a heavy exhale and murmurs, “I’m sorry, Lia. It’s just… been a long week.”

“I get it, Mark.” She hums softly, “But I wish you wouldn’t stress so much about this. Minho made his choice, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“I don’t believe that.” Mark rises from his chair before pacing across the room to the mausoleum’s lone window. He pulls the curtain aside, peering out at the vacant hills of the graveyard. “If he would just talk to me, then I’m sure we could figure something out.”

Hundreds of phone calls later, and he still hasn’t spoken with Minho since the night he claimed to be leaving the coven. No one has. Not even Jisung. And Mark can’t figure out what’s bothering him more: the fact that Minho won’t pick up his phone, or that you have been purposely avoiding him for the last week.

He’s trying to give both you and the young witch time—truly—but Mark can’t help but feel as if something is off.

“Minho needs to figure out what he wants himself.” He forces himself away from the window, receding across the room to lean against the lectern as Lia goes on, “You can’t be there to hold his hand every time he goes through one of his moods. It’s not good for him or for you.”

“What am I supposed to do then?”

“Nothing, Mark. You do nothing.”

Mark shakes his head, “You know I can’t do that.”

“Just give Minho some more time to get it together.” Lia says, “He’ll come around eventually.”

“I hope so.” Mark goes to grab his coffee mug from a nearby table, but accidentally knocks his elbow against the corner of the lectern. A mass of papers and books slide from its surface, crashing to the floor in a rather vocal descent. He releases a quiet curse, tucking his phone against his shoulder before lowering to the floor to begin tidying the mess.

…How long does he have to wait until you come around?

Lia continues to speak as he gathers the escaped pages, “Have you talked to Yugyeom lately? I heard that one of their wolves just up and disappeared.”

“Yeah. That kid, Changbin.” He says, “Gyeom thinks he probably took off after our fight with the huntress. Remind you of someone?”

“In this town? A lot of someones.”

Mark goes to respond, but the title of a particular document clears the thoughts from his mind. Pushing aside a couple other pages, he grabs the flimsy packet before raising it into better view. At first, Mark is confused, unsure why this type of reference would be out and about. But as he surveys the other fallen objects, his confusion gradually shifts to realization…

Then rage.

He doesn’t bother to look up as the door opens, nor does he spare the puzzled newcomer a glance. Still clutching the document, Mark rises to his feet and takes the phone from his shoulder with his free hand. He pays his companion no mind as he quietly murmurs:

“Do you mind if I call you later?”

“Not at all. Just try to think about what I said.”

Mark bids a final farewell to Lia before disconnecting the line. He takes a moment to drag a hand down his face before turning to a wide-eyed Youngjae. As soon as Mark raises the document into view, his expression immediately shifts to a panic.

“So…” Mark tilts his head with a tight frown, “You want to explain why the hell you’re looking up resurrection spells?...”

Youngjae shakes his head, “Hyung—”

“Explanation, Youngjae.” Mark watches the siphoner’s face shift through a rainbow of emotions. From terror, to anxiety, to dread, before finally settling on guilt. Keeping his gaze to the floor, Youngjae eventually delivers a shrug and whispers:

“...To try to bring Jackson back.”

Mark’s heart practically splits open.

He stares at the younger witch with incredulous eyes. “Are you fucking stupid, Youngjae!?”

“It looks bad, I know—” Youngjae hurries forward to stand in front of Mark and lifts his hand in good faith, “—but I’ve been doing a lot of research and experimenting with a couple spells and I really think that we can—”

“You aren’t thinking shit.” Mark spits, rounding toward the siphoner until their noses are a mere inch apart. “We don’t screw around with necromancy, Youngjae… It’s dark magic.”

“We just have to find the right spell! (Y/N) and I are searching—”

“(Y/N)? What does (Y/N) have to do with this?”

Youngjae immediately closes his mouth, his eyes growing glassy in the evening light.

It takes a second for the puzzle pieces to fit together—your inquiries about Jackson, Youngjae’s daily trips to the bookstore, your evasion—but once the realization hits, Mark feels his entire body go numb.

Youngjae rushes forward to grab Mark’s arm, “Hyung, I’m so, so sorry! (Y/N) thought it would be better not to tell you, so I just—”

Mark shrugs his hand away, refusing to meet Youngjae’s pleading gaze. “Get out.”

“Just let me explain—”

“Get the fuck out!” A loud crash echoes throughout the mausoleum as Mark flings his mug across the room, causing the object to meet the opposite wall before shattering to a million tiny pieces. Youngjae doesn’t persist, grabbing his bag and beelining straight out the door. Mark pushes the sounds of the younger’s sobs from his mind as he goes, unable to see past the anger boiling inside his body. But even against all the rage, a sense of sadness remains at the forefront of his mind.

His best friend betrayed him—again.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“You find and take care of (Y/N).” Jaebeom commands, slamming his car door shut with a little more force than necessary. Then again, he can’t seem to bring himself to care above the red-hot fury coursing through his veins like venom. He ignores the curious stares of a nearby group of female students and proceeds to move around the car, “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“And where exactly are you going?” Jaebeom bites back a glare as Jinyoung halts his movements. His entire body thrums, as if physically yearning for vengeance, but he masks his temper with a sharp inhale and a promise to release his frustrations out later.

He nods at his companion, “I’m going to do what I should have done before.”

Jinyoung merely stares at him for a moment, and Jaebeom can only hope he can’t see past the bloodlust in his gaze. Fortunately, Jinyoung doesn’t question him further. He releases Jaebeom’s shoulder and delivers one final nod before turning in the direction of what both can only assume is your classroom. Jaebeom allows himself a moment to watch Jinyoung—his noble brother—sprint off to save the day—to save you. Again.

Jaebeom swallows the bitterness accumulating in his chest and heads in his own direction. It won’t be hard to track her. He can already smell her Chanel perfume—she’s close by, he realizes.

She wants him to find her.

Sure enough, Jaebeom recognizes her silken auburn hair and Louis Vuitton coat beside a towering oak tree, staring down at her phone. He doesn’t bother to check if those students are still watching him and speeds over to his target’s perch. Even when he’s a mere few inches away, she continues to mindlessly scroll through her phone. Jaebeom’s anger grows when he notices the amused smirk etched across her pink lips.

“It’s about time you showed up.” Tzuyu says, “You know how much I hate to wait.”

“Give me one good reason not to rip your fucking head off right now.”

“Not even a ‘hello’?”

Jaebeom growls, “You think this is a game?”

“Perhaps.” She raises her calm gaze to his own before offering a sultry smile. “Beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

Her flirtations only add fuel to the outrage raging through his body. He speeds forward again, snatches her wrists and slams her smaller figure against the trunk of the tree behind them. Tzuyu winces at his aggressive movements, but Jaebeom feels no sympathy. Your trembling voice and pained breathing echoes in his ears like a siren, tempting him closer to the point of no return.

It would be so easy to plunge his hand into her chest, to squeeze her heart until it's nothing but bloody ash. Or maybe he should tear her limbs off one by one, make her suffer until she’s begging him to end her—

“You really do care about her, don’t you?” Jaebeom awakens from his imaginary rampage at the question. Her usual smirk is no longer along her face, but instead replaced with a thoughtful frown.

He growls, pressing her wrists further into the bark of the tree. “I told you to stay away from her. You said you wouldn’t touch her.”

“I never thought I’d see the day the big, bad hybrid, Im Jaebeom falls for a human.”

“Shut the fuck up.” His tone is quiet—murderous. “I’ll kill you.”

“No. You won’t.”

“Yes. I will.”

“No, Jaebeom.” She shakes her head with a sigh, “If you kill me, (Y/N) will never forgive you.”

As if she had taken a red hot iron and plunged it through his heart, Jaebeom lets go of the vampire and stumbles backward. He barely catches himself before he collapses to the ground, and even then, his legs feel like they’ll give out at any moment.

Tzuyu, still leaning against the tree, tilts her head with a hum, “She’s a good one, Beom. I feel it… that aura that carries around her.”

“Stop it—”

“And it’s because she’s good that she’ll never belong to you.” She murmurs, “But you already know that… don’t you?”

“You’re fucking sick.” Jaebeom hisses.

To his surprise, Tzuyu’s expression softens. “I’m sorry, Jaebeom.”

There’s too many emotions swirling through his mind. He can’t think—can’t breathe. His chest feels like it’s caving in on itself, and his hands won’t stop shaking. He can’t get your face out of his head—your beautiful eyes looking at him with such betrayal and hatred. It hurts. It hurts so much. Why won’t his hands stop fucking shaking? It’s too much. It’s all too much—

He can’t help it… He has to turn it off.

A switch flips inside of his soul, immediately locking out every ounce of pain. His lungs inhale each new breath smoothly, and his limbs remain as still as a cat. With a clear head, Jaebeom returns his eyes to Tzuyu, who is still gazing at him with such tenderness and understanding. For a moment, the warmth of her gaze reminds him of you.

Tzuyu cautiously takes a step forward, “Jaebeom…?”

“You’re right.” He nods, “I’m not gonna kill you.”

“What are you—ah!” Her inquiry elevates into a scream as Jaebeom whirls forward and sinks his teeth into her shoulder. His fangs plunge through the fabric of her expensive coat before piercing deep into her flesh. She attempts to struggle, but he is stronger… and the damage has already been done.

He pulls away, licking the blood from his lips as Tzuyu collapses to the ground. She clutches her wounded shoulder, staring up at him with eyes of betrayal, confusion and fright.

“You… You bit me.”

Jaebeom smirks, “I suggest you spend the next day or so wisely… it’s going to be your last.”

Tzuyu’s expression turns rabid. She scrambles to her feet before sneering at the hybrid, “The sooner you learn to accept your fate, Jaebeom, the sooner you’ll find peace—”

“Meh. Fate’s overrated.”

“Just remember this—” The vampire growls, “—after you turned me, you murdered the love of my life… at least I had the kindness to keep yours alive.”

He snickers, turning to leave. However, just before he takes a step, Jaebeom throws one final comment over his shoulder, “Thanks for all the sex.”

With that, Jaebeom smirks to himself and saunters off into the glow of the setting sun.

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

Jinyoung rushes down the hallway, careful not to speed for fear of running into a professor or student working after hours. The fragrance of your blood builds with each step, and he can’t help but grow more concerned with that knowledge. At the very least, he can still hear the faint beating of your heart.

He follows the scent past a couple corners and down another long corridor to a massive, dim lecture room. Fearing the worst, Jinyoung quickly steps through the doorway before immediately spotting your incapacitated form through the darkness propped up against the opposite wall. He doesn’t hesitate to speed across the room and kneel in front of you. You’re unconscious, he realizes, but breathing—that’s enough to lift the heavy weight from his chest.

“(Y/N)?” He calls gently, lifting his hands to cradle your face in his palms. “Come back to me, my dear… Please.”

“Jinyoung?...” He’s never been more grateful to hear the sound of his name until now. Your eyes flutter open and dart around the area before drowsily settling on Jinyoung. The vampire in question breathes a sigh of relief, caressing the apple of your cheek with his thumb.

“There you are.” He murmurs, “How do you feel?”

“Like I was stabbed…” You raise an eyebrow before peering down at the pencil protruding from your abdomen, “Well, would you look at that.”

Jinyoung holds back a smile at your sarcasm, appreciating that even wounded, you still manage to bear your usual fiery charm. His own eyes turn down to the object jabbed within your waist. He carefully analyzes the damage, determining the best possible solution to its extraction. As you said on the call, the pencil itself is trapped inside your ribcage. Jinyoung will have to be careful not to accidentally fracture your bones.

He bites the inside of his cheek before returning his attention back to you. “I need to remove it, but it’s going to be painful. Very painful.”

You roll your eyes, “It will also hurt a lot less when it’s out. I can handle it.”

“I know you can.”

Jinyoung keeps his gaze connected to yours as he wraps his fingers around the wood of the pencil, taking extra care not to brush against the swollen skin of the lesion. Your expression remains fatigued, yet indifferent during his preparation. He waits for your nod before he continues.

In order to prevent as much further damage and to make it as painless as possible, Jinyoung removes the pencil as quickly as he can. Your furrowed brow and teary eyes slice at his soul, but he doesn’t stop until the object is completely taken out. Once it's free, Jinyoung tosses the pencil into a nearby trash can, pulls the sweater from his body and utilizes the garment to cover your slightly bleeding wound. He ignores the crimson of your blood staining his fingers, instead lifting his clean arm to his mouth before biting down.

“What… are you doing?”

“My blood will heal you.” Jinyoung answers, offering forth his bloody wrist. “It’s how I saved you after your assault in the alleyway.”

“If I die with your blood in my system, won’t I become a vampire?”

“You aren’t going to die.”

You shake your head, pushing away his wrist. “Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather not risk anything.”

“At least allow me to bring you to the hospital then.” He insists, “You’ve lost quite enough blood for one day.”

Jinyoung curses at the mischievous smirk that spreads along your lips. “You have got to stop saving my life.”

“Stop putting yourself in danger, and there would be no need for me to.”

“Last I checked, I had no idea Vampire Victoria Secret was gonna show up and stab me with a fucking writing utensil.” You snort, gesturing over to your desk, “Grab my stuff before we go, please.”

Just as you requested, Jinyoung goes about gathering your laptop and assorted belongings before sliding them into your bag. One book, however, catches his attention. For a moment, he pauses to stare at the title, then flips open the cover. His mouth runs dry when he discovers numerous pages of notes in your handwriting.

Jinyoung closes the book before turning back to you, who is struggling to climb to your feet. He moves to help you, stabilizing your body against the wall while asking, “Why are you researching necromancy?”

“It’s a long story.” You inhale deeply, “But to keep it short… Youngjae and I are going to try to resurrect Jackson Wang.”

At the mention of the alpha werewolf, Jinyoung’s muscles grow stiff. He stares at your face, attempting to read the stars in your dreary irises. After what seems like a long moment of silence, he eventually speaks, albeit quietly, “You understand resurrecting someone from the dead is no simple task… Why would you even attempt such a thing?”

Your expression softens. “Because Jackson didn’t deserve to die, Jinyoung. The pack lost their leader—Mark lost his best friend.”

“Resurrection is a dangerous craft, (Y/N).”

“Not if we find the right spell.” You argue, throwing your bag over your shoulder with a sharp inhale. “I know it sounds bat-shit crazy, but I have to try, Jinyoung. For Jackson and for Mark.”

Jinyoung inhales a heavy gust, before releasing an even heavier breath. He curses himself at being so affected by the hope in your eyes. Your determination is too alluring—you are too alluring.

“I have a collection of grimoires kept by a coven of Dutch witches who specialized in necromancy back in the 15th century.” He finally says, “I will gift them to you as long as you grant me one request.”

Your eyes immediately brighten. “Of course. What do you need me to do?”

Jinyoung grabs your hands. “I want you to forgive my brother.”

“Jinyoung—“

“After you left, Jaebeom fed me his blood.” He explains, “He cured the werewolf venom, so I wouldn’t have to suffer.”

Your face first contorts to confusion, then to Jinyoung’s surprise, guilt. “He didn’t tell me…”

“As I told you, Jaebeom has a good heart.” His lips upturn into a sad smile, “He just… has difficulty revealing that side of himself to others.”

With that, Jinyoung carefully gathers your body into his arms. He manages to cover your soiled clothes with your jacket before heading for the door.

“It is your choice. I will give you the grimoires no matter what you decide.”

Jinyoung’s heart leaps when your head collapses against his chest, right over where his heart proceeds to race. Judging by your silence, he expects your mind to have descended into unconsciousness once more, but is pleasantly surprised when your slurred voice reaches his ears, “Hey, Jinyoung?”

“Yes?”

“Thanks for saving me. Again.”

Jinyoung smiles, “It was my pleasure, (Y/N).”

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾

“Such a fucking idiot!...” Youngjae hisses, stomping his way past gravestones and monuments through the light of the setting sun. Usually, he would stop to appreciate such a beautiful moment in nature, but his mind is too preoccupied with thoughts of remorse and anger.

Youngjae knew better than to keep something like this from Mark. His heart immediately drops when he thinks back to the older witch’s furious outburst—Youngjae hasn’t seen him that angry in a long time. Not since Jackson was alive.

He shakes the thought from mind. He should have never agreed to your idea in the first place. Jackson Wang is dead. And he can’t be brought back. End of story.

A faint murmur of voices awakens Youngjae from his self-loathing. He hadn’t realized how deep he has traveled into the forest until now, so deep that he’s very close to the shore of the bay. His curiosity expands when he notices a strange light emitting from behind a group of closely placed trees. Against his better judgement, Youngjae decides to investigate.

The nearer he approaches the site, the louder the voices grow. With a closer view, Youngjae can barely make out two figures conversing in front of a large bonfire. Due to the shadows of tree cover, he can’t recognize their faces, but something about their voices seems familiar to him…

“You’re sure this is going to work?”

“I’ve been planning this for years. There’s no way it won’t.”

“Doesn’t this spell need a crazy amount of power?”

“There will be a blood moon tomorrow night.” Youngjae watches as one of the figures retreats to the opposite side of the fire. If he is a bit closer, he might be able to catch a glimpse of his face. “I will have more than enough power to complete the transformation.”

“And it won’t kill me? The transformation?”

“You sound like you’re having second thoughts…”

“I’m not!” The second figure insists, “The Primes deserve to pay for what they’ve done.”

“And pay they will.” Youngjae’s blood runs cold as he finally gains sight of one of the figures. “The Primes and Mark Tuan.”

“Holy shit—” Youngjae moves to make a mad dash back through the forest, but just as he takes a step backwards, his foot catches a large divot in the earth. He crashes to the ground with a faint yelp, cursing the new ache in his ankle. Panic skyrockets through his veins at the sound of approaching footsteps. Even against the slight pain, Youngjae manages to force himself to his feet, ready to make a break for it, but a broad chest halts his movements.

Youngjae’s heart stops when he meets the gaze of Changbin, the temperamental omega from the werewolf pack.

He smirks, “Your mother ever tell you it’s rude to eavesdrop?”

Youngjae hisses, “Screw you.”

Changbin remains unbothered. “What should we do with him?”

“Well… we can’t have him warning anyone of our plans.” Minho comes into view, wearing a similar smirk to that of the werewolf. “And besides, he might turn out to be pretty useful to us.”

“Why are you doing this!?” Youngjae demands as Changbin shoves him back to the ground. “Are you that desperate for revenge that you’d actually kill Mark-hyung!?”

Minho shakes his head, “I’m not gonna kill him. That special gift is reserved for the Primes.” He chuckles, before lifting his shoulders in a shrug. “I’m just gonna take back what I rightfully deserve…”

Youngjae sneers at the witch, “You’re a fucking traitor! A sick, selfish—”

The siphoner immediately grows silent when Changbin lands a harsh hit against his cheek. At the heavy impact, Youngjae goes flying to the earth and doesn’t rise again.

Changbin glances at Minho, “You sure about all this?”

Minho only smirks.

“I’m dead sure.”

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