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personasintro · 11 months

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Employed 01 | jjk

⏤𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴; Being independent while living the harsh reality of adulthood is sparked by arrogance in the form of the most infuriating man you've ever met.

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: ceo!jungkook x reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, enemies to lovers

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: explicit language

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 16.4k+

banner by: @archivedkookie // thank you so much again for making this for me! ♡

index (to be added)

El: I think I'm drunk again

"think or know?"

El: know then

El: turns out I didn't have sex yesterday

El: god I already masturbated twice today!!!

You could survive without that information, a snicker leaving your mouth at your best friend's messages. She had a date yesterday. Well, you're not sure if it was officially a date or she just hung out with one of her co-workers she's been flirting with for weeks now.

Elaine broke up with her then boyfriend recently. This co-worker of hers has caught her eyes even when she was in a relationship (with a total douchebag). Not mentioning he's still in a relationship with his girlfriend. They're not on good terms either but still. It's complicated and who are you to judge?

"make it three then"

El: it's not helping :/

"because he's all you're thinking about"

That one is true. He's been a topic number one in any of your conversations.

El: that's true lol

El: but I'm kinda scared to get involved with someone from my work

"I'm not surprised, it usually is like that"

"but look, you're never gonna find out if you don't try it"

While you're trying to be as supportive as a best friend can be, you do have your own opinion about her little shenanigans. But in the end, you do want her to be happy and not be depressed because of her two failed relationships from before. This guy at least seems to be treating her right and he's a proper gentleman. Not a red flag which cannot be said about the previous two ones.

El: so you think I should give it a chance?

Jumping from one relationship to another is... you're not sure what to think of it. Everyone's different and you try to keep being open-minded. If he makes her happy and she wants to try it, why not?

You know you would be more wary, especially after a heartbreak. You would focus on yourself first, recharge and regain self-love or whatever people do after a break-up.

Before you can type your reply, another message pops up.

El: because he treats me right and everything's perfect... I'm just scared of that one fact of working together

"well working with friends or family never does any good, the same goes for relationships"

That's a fact. In most cases it's the worst anyone can do.

"but try it if you feel like that's the right thing"

You're not one of those friends who give false hope. You're honest, try to be without getting too honest which could potentially hurt someone. Elaine is a wonderful woman. You've known her for years and have been best friends just as long. It's unfortunate the majority of your communication is done through messages and occasional video calls. Ever since you moved out of the country, you've been away from everyone.

However, you knew what you would lose in order to pursue a different life you always wanted.

El: what about you tho? have you found yourself a job yet?

The question you've found unpleasant back home – and you still do.

"no :("

El: don't worry! you just got there

El: I'm sure you'll find one soon x

Sighing, you wish Elaine's words would come true. Preferably very soon.

You send her a quick thank you with a heart emoji before someone slides onto the opposite seat. Met with a wide grin and crinkled eyes at the ends, your before neutral expression turns into a surprise and happiness. You didn't hear him coming!

"Hobi!" you greet him after not seeing his face for a few days.

He's been your friend for quite some time now. Actually, it's safe to say he's been a huge help ever since you decided to move here. It lasts until now and without his help, you're not sure if you would've ever had the guts to leave the comfort of familiarity of your country.

"Hey," he greets, laughing a little as the air becomes more cheerful. Or maybe it's only you and the fact he's no stranger to you.

Having prying eyes on you almost all the time is still a little uncomfortable. As if they knew you're a foreigner right out of the bat.

Hoseok chose to meet up at his favorite place. He's a little late, but you don't have the heart to scold him for it. You know it's only your anxiety of having to be here alone, feeling strangers' eyes on you. Luckily, you did the typical trick. Staring into your phone, minding your business and trying to act unbothered.

"Have you ordered anything yet?"

"Ah, no," you shake your head, "Was waiting for you."

You had to tell the older lady to give you more time since your friend should be arriving anytime soon.

"Sorry for running late, traffic here is no joke." he apologizes, shrugging his overshirt as he hangs it over the bag of his stool.

"It's fine." you tell him, catching his amused expression which causes you to purse your lips.

"No scolding?"

"I was about to but I changed my mind."

"Of course you were." he laughs.

Before another word can be uttered and a fit of giggles surround the round table, what you assume is the owner – the same lady that asked you for your order earlier – comes back with the same kind smile. Hoseok says both your orders, already knowing your usual choice since you're here the third time already. Like you said, it's his favorite place to eat. Korean barbecue is definitely worth every penny.

"I didn't wanna tell you on the phone but–" He giggles when he notices your wary look. "You haven't found a job yet, right?" He makes sure.

For some reason, your cheeks heat up in guilt. Guilt from not being able to find out despite living here for two weeks. Okay, it might not be a long time but the whole process of finding a job is way harder. You've been through something similar back in home. Having to experience this all over again feels very saddening. You would lie if you told you haven't had any expectations. Of course, you know it's not going to be easy but still. You hoped it would be easier.

You're a little fucked up from the situation back home. The months you waited to get a job and then lose it in the span of one month. Wasn't your fault, but it still hurts though.

Shortly said, you just can't allow yourself to experience that again.

"No." you mumble, placing your elbow on the table as you prop your chin on your palm.

"Perfect," he says, met with a raised brow from you. "I have a friend."

"Oh god."

"No, listen to me," he presses.

Hoseok has a lot of friends. Different types of friends. While you haven't been able to meet most of them (which you're sure is not even possible since he's got a lot of them), you've heard of them.

"He owns a company. A very prestigious one,"

That has your eyes widening.

"He's been looking for an assistant, told me about it when we went out for a whiskey."

"Since when do you drink whiskey?"

"Not the point," he grits, "Anyway, he just mentioned it very briefly but then an idea sparked when I was home. How did I not think of it sooner? Right, like–"

"Hobi." You motion for him to shorten it and to get to the fucking point.

"Right," he laughs, "So–you should work for him."

You blink and stare, breathing out a chuckle. "Just like that?"

"Well, no." he frowns a little, "You should probably go to the interview–but honestly, you have nothing to be scared of."

"But assistant? What are the requirements? What about–"

"He's gonna tell you everything. We don't talk about work much and he only briefly mentioned looking for an assistant. But you're great and skillful. What else do you need to be an assistant?"

"I don't think it's that easy, Hobi. Especially if it's some big company like you said."

Hoseok leans back, shrugging. "He's my friend. He's gonna take you in." he promises and waves his hand, sending you a little assurement along with a wide supportive smile.

You're not sure you're assured at all. But you have nothing to lose. You told Elaine to try it because else she wouldn't know. Even though this is not about a relationship at all, there's some similarity to the situation.

And you're going to listen to your own advice.

Hoseok wasn't lying when he said about his friend's company. That alone made your stomach shrink with unease and the only thing that calmed you was the reminder of their friendship. Regardless of this successful friend of his and what he said about his business, you expected a decent and nice building.

Not a freaking tallest and biggest building on a street full of companies.

Holy shit.

That's your first reaction you luckily keep to yourself while you stare at the tall building. Oh god. You're ten seconds from running away like a coward but you can't. You simply can't let a stupid stress affect you. This is a great opportunity for you.

Plus, not to mention the lengths Hoseok went through to get you a chance to have an interview here. He talked to his friend because of you, purely because of that you can't disappoint him as well.

Staring at the building, it screams of wealth even from its exterior. Is it stupid to say it kind of looks a little intimidating? Sure, your nerves could play a role in this as well. It looks like the entire building is covered in glass, in one you can't see through from the outside. Plus it looks super clean.

Do they get it cleaned often? You laugh at your thoughts, releasing a breath you've been holding before you finally start walking toward the entrance.

The only info Hoseok gave you was time and date. He told you there's nothing to worry about and you'll find your way around. Despite the lack of information, he tried to assure you. But walking up the stairs, you mentally curse at your friend. He might've done that because he didn't want you all stressed out, but it has a complete opposite effect.

So you remind yourself of his words of assurement and just go for it.

The tall and huge door is automatic. Of course it is. It opens as soon as you're close enough, fast enough so you don't have to halt your steps which happens often with automatic doors.

Scent of freshness and (novelty?) hits you pleasantly as soon as you're inside. It's everything you see in big movies. A lot of space, minimalistic but pretty interior. Everything is modern and even people working here are dressed elegantly, in dark blue color that is matched with white.

"Miss? Where are you going?"

Almost jumping at the sudden presence beside you, you see a bulky man with a security tag attached to his elegant shirt. Even security has elegant attire? Holy fuck, Hoseok, where did you send me?

You're impressed, almost too impressed but that only sparks your stress even more.

Especially when you see the man patiently waiting for your response.

"Umm," Great. "I've got a job interview here?"

He scans you as if he's searching for any hints of lying. What is this? A fucking pentagon?

"They'll give you directions at the reception desk. Please, continue past the detector." he says professionally, pointing at the detector system you've only seen at airports.

"Thank you." You try to send him a polite smile, your legs suddenly feeling a little wobbly in those heels.

You chose an elegant outfit, a nice soft pink set with a touch of a few decent silver accessories. It's not too much but it screams of elegance which suits their theme. You paid extra attention to your make-up and hair, putting all your effort and not only because it distracted you today.

The reception desk is at the very end, not hard to miss as a huge logo of the company is lit up and attached to the marble wall. There is a young woman aware of your presence immediately, welcoming you there before asking what you are looking for. If they're surprised to see you here, they don't show it as much.

After explaining you're here for the job interview, she asks for your name and after she checks your information, she gives you directions to get there. There are a lot of employers, busy doing their job as some of them wait for an elevator. There are three of them!

Other than that, nobody really pays you any attention as a silent chatter involving business resounds inside the elevator. Some of them get out sooner, some of them wait until it's their turn.

Number twelve lits up as a robotic voice informs you of the floor you situate. You get out, not quite sure where else to go as you look left and right. A little confused, the young receptionist hasn't offered any further information beside getting out on floor twelve. That's until you see a group of young females gathered on the left side of the building. Getting a feeling this is it, you walk toward them.

There is another receptionist desk, a few chairs and leather sofa in the hallway as all of them seem to be waiting. This is it.

"Welcome, miss. Are you here for the interview?" Someone asks, catching your attention as you notice another receptionist with the same attire like the one that greeted you earlier.

This one has short hair, perfectly straightened and styled.

"Oh, hello. Yes I am." you respond lightly as she nods.

"Please sit down and make yourself comfortable. Can I offer you a glass of water?" she asks after she points toward the group of women that are waiting.

"No, thank you." you smile, luckily finding yourself a free spot where you can sit down.

It's interesting to see different types of interested parties. You notice how each of them are women and you wonder if that was a requirement or it's because of something else.

Either way, they're all dressed perfectly and definitely put their best effort. Again, Hoseok said this is a good and big company, so it makes sense everyone probably wants to work here. It's not like you don't feel like you don't fit it, even though it's stupid and they most likely want this job just as much as you do. However, some of them look confident and determined to even be here. They came prepared.

You purely judge it by their confidence that oozes out of them, without them having to talk at all.

And then there's a few of them that look nervous, even though they try their best to hide it and match other's energy.

As much as there's Hoseok enthusiasm about his friend giving you the job, nothing's sure and the huge queue just proves it.

You definitely feel like you could relate more to the latter. You're a little nervous and everyone's eyes are on the door when it gets open, another woman getting out of there. She greets the receptionist before walking away with confident steps, her heels clacking against the marble floor.

You gulp, curling your toes in your heels.

You sit there and wait. Not going to lie, you think about pulling out your phone and at least entertaining yourself with the device until it's your turn. However, no one seems to be doing that and you definitely don't want to give an impression that you don't want to be here. You can't be sure.

There are eyes everywhere, including cameras that you've noticed are in every corner. They don't miss anything. Every fuck up there possibly could be, they're going to see.

But it does make sense. They need to be protected.

One thing about you is that you don't like waiting. You can be patient but after a while you get bored. You've watched your surroundings for the past forty minutes – what else is there to do?

Your boredom is bound to end eventually and when your name is called, you spring onto your feet. They must've sent your information to the receptionist on this floor, since she never asked for your name. But that's the least of your worries when you finally walk toward the other room. Too focused on not stumbling and doing something embarrassing, you focus on your steps until you get inside the room where everyone has been walking out of.

It's huge.

This is no meeting room or room designed for job interviews. This is an office. A huge one with a freaking seating area. Your mouth is agape as you notice a similar design the whole building has. The only difference is the view over the entire city and little coziness this office has. It's slightly more personal without having any personal pictures or anything – at least that's what you've quickly caught onto.

It's hard to navigate around the room, you're not sure where to go.

"Are you going to come in or not?"

A deep voice resounds around the corner making your eyes widen and stomach shrink. Embarrassed of being called out at checking this place out and clearly not moving, you clear your throat and reach the corner.

A man.

He stands behind a desk, eyes focused down as his fingers briefly touch the stack of paper spreaded on the dark oak desk.

Before you can utter a single word, politely greet whoever this man is, he speaks again.

"Are you mute?"

What the–

"No?" you almost scoff, frowning a little which causes him to finally lift his gaze up.

He stares you up and down, scoffing silently under his breath. His dark eyes are one of the first things you notice on him. Even from a distance, you can make out the dominance in them. He's tall and has broad shoulders which are definitely more defined in the white button-up. The black suit hugs his form perfectly, like it's been designed for him.

You're not stupid. This man is important. And young. He's too young to be the CEO. Don't they have someone on their team to do the job interviews anyway? Whoever he is, he's clearly confident and full of himself. Perhaps you're mistaken but well...

He cocks his brow at you, eyes motioning at the two chairs in front of his desk. He's telling you to get there and sit down.

You listen, despite your eyes attached to his form as he no longer watches you. He sits down, making himself comfortable as he peeks into the papers. Your full name comes out of his mouth, reading it aloud as the question sits in the air for a moment.

"Yes, that's me." you jump in to answer, not wanting to make this any more awkward.

You're still slightly perplexed by the not so pleasant start. Suddenly, you understand why most of the women out there were nervous.

While you sit down and have him right in front of you just a few feet away, you try not to stare too much. He is young. He could potentially be Hoseok's friend.

"Have you brought any documents with you? CV? Documents of your skills and diplomas? Anything?"

Gulping, you nod before you pull out your finished CV that Hoseok has helped you with.

He takes it from you, flipping through the pages as he stays quiet. His face is hard to read. A frown clouds most of his features and he looks stern. Too stern for such a young male.

He briefly glances at you, while you play with your nails out of his eyesight. God. What was that look for? You know you're not overly qualified and you haven't graduated from a prestigious school. Your hope of getting this job is slowly dying down as he remains quiet before he tosses the papers onto his desk.

He leans back, glancing somewhere above your head as he sighs. "Why do you think you're suitable for this position?"

Okay, you got this. Fuck, you hate this question. You need money, clearly.

"You know, most people don't even get a chance to get to the job interview stage. Not people with your CV and education history."

"Pardon?" Your response is immediate. With an edge to your tone.

However, he is unfazed.

"Why are you here, Miss–" He stops before glancing at the papers again before saying your surname.

This dude is fucking–

Forget he's the hottest piece of man you've ever seen. You can tell right out of bat he's arrogant, a little too arrogant. You know he probably has different types of people coming into his office, you're aware your education record isn't something mind-blowing... but he can still be polite and not so rude.

And before your attitude can come to the surface, you remind yourself why you're here.

You need this.

This is your chance.

You've been staying in your AirBnB ever since you came here. Since you have no job yet, you can't exactly rent any place. So you're paying for the apartment that's your temporary home with your saved up money. You need to find a job and then a place to live in as soon as possible.

"My friend told me about this job. He knows the CEO. Maybe you could ask him, he probably knows of me."

He knows the CEO? Really, Y/N? You stupid–It makes you sound as if you're completely relying on your friend knowing the CEO. Which is not entirely true. Still, you chose your words diplomatically and maybe this man could change his attitude since you're coming from – is it an inner circle? – or in the worst case, he's–

"I'm the CEO."

Of course he is.

Fuck.

Isn't he too young to be running this place?

"Oh," you mutter, "Well, Hoseok mentioned you're looking for an assistant and–"

"And you think just because you know my friend you're suitable for this position?"

"No!" you exclaim, maybe too loudly which has you shut your mouth immediately as a frown makes it onto your face.

Minus the fact he called Hoseok his friend, when he's your friend too, he sounds almost amused and definitely rude.

"I had people graduating from Harvard coming in here before you."

Congratulations, you mentally snark.

What does he want you to say?

I'm sorry I wasn't rich and smart enough to graduate from Harvard?

"All I meant was that Hoseok mentioned you're looking for an assistant and that I should try it,"

You completely miss out the part where Hoseok was entirely confident he's going to give you the job. From the looks of it, he's far from it.

"I may not have the greatest experience in this field, or I haven't had the luck to have an outstanding education record, but I'm hard-working and I learn fast."

"Hard-working and learning fast is not enough." he informs you.

"What else is there to do to be an assistant?" you ask, your mouth shutting up once again when you see the look he gives you. Wow, he has a very intense glare. "I mean–what does it require?"

"A lot of things. Executive assistant does not only perform administrative tasks, but there's a lot of research and tasks beside it. Not to mention I need someone I can rely on whenever."

"I'm a reliable person."

"Hoseok's word is not enough." he grits through his teeth.

You frown again, starting to get pissed off at his attitude. "I can prove it to you."

"Why should I give you a chance?"

"So I can prove it to you?" you deadpan, his glare dropping as he scoffs.

"You're awful at answering questions." he notes, mumbling under his breath almost as if it's not aimed for your ears.

But you hear him regardless, pressing your lips together as you straighten yourself.

There's silence that follows. It lasts long, almost too long so you consider walking out of here. His phone vibrates as he reaches toward the device and sighs eventually.

He puts his phone to his ear, answering with a dry Yes.

He listens for a moment. Frowning as he leans against his chair and looks at the ceiling.

"Yes, she's here."

Hoseok.

He's calling him.

That has your attention as the young male whose name remains unknown for now glances back at you. With the same stoic expression, of course.

"Ho–"

He sighs, pinches his brow. He's listening, rolling his eyes here and there while you find it amusing. Though you don't dare to smile or even give him some sort of reaction that he might see.

"You owe me." he grits before ending the call.

He tosses the phone back where it was, not looking pleased at all.

"I'm doing this because Hoseok is my friend."

You stare, ignoring the way your chest clenches with sadness for some reason. Or maybe it's a disappointment and embarrassment.

"You have five working days to show me your potential. If you mess up, you're out of here."

While your not old self would tell him (very happily) fuck you, you know this is your chance to prove more things and not just to others, but to yourself as well. Even having this company's name in your CV is going to be a major help.

"Thank you." you tell him instead, standing up as he snatches your documents off his desk and hands it to you.

You snatch it back, offering him a tight smile when he glares at the obvious attitude.

"Here's the contract. Read it, do not sign it yet. Just an idea of what's awaiting for you." he explains, standing up.

You feel like nothing can prepare you for what's awaiting for you.

"I'll make sure you're not going to regret it. I mean it–I know I'm not the perfect candidate to work in your company, but I'll prove to you with my hard work that I could be. And not only because of Hoseok."

He stays silent, simply watching you. Not looking sold at all.

But you nudge your ego away and accept the challenge this man might be.

"Thank you again, Mr..."

His jaw clenches.

"Jeon."

The familiar beeping he has grown used to and is a part of his everyday life, rings around his silent office. It rips his attention off the papers in front of him. With a single click, he accepts the call from the front desk on this floor.

"Mr. Jeon, I'm sorry to disturb you but you've got a visitor." The feminine voice that is somehow a part of his everyday life as well resounds.

Brows pinching together, he stares at the phone with a slightly irritated look. Everyone knows they should not disturb him when he's in the middle of reviewing potential deals. He likes to stay focused. And even Soyeon's automatic apology did nothing.

"I don't have any visits scheduled." he responds, unimpressed and indeed bothered by the interruption.

The young woman that has been working for him almost since the very beginning keeps herself composed, not showing how intimidated she is by him.

"I'm aware, sir. But he's saying he's your friend?"

"My friend?" he deadpans.

There's only one person who could come unannounced, enough to disturb him from–

"Jung Hoseok?" she asks unsurely.

Of course it's Jung Hoseok.

No one barely comes here for visits. Everyone – and by that he means everyone that knows him personally or professionally – knows he doesn't appreciate visits. Not before his lunch and not even after. He's here to work.

A sigh makes it past his lips as he scratches his eyebrow. "Send him in."

Despite the lack of visits he barely gets – just because he doesn't want them – he still made sure people that know him are on the list. In case there is some kind of emergency and for some reason can't be contacted. You never know. He takes precautions.

Jung Hoseok is one of those people on the list.

But the difference is no one really abuses that kind of privilege that gets him through security. Basically gives him a free pass around the building.

"I get it from here, sweetheart. Thank you. He's my friend." He hears from behind the door, a chuckle of disbelief makes it out of his lips before his office door is open.

His receptionist stutters over her words but before she can make a proper sentence, his not by much older friend closes the door with a thud. Arms outstretched and wide grin, he stares at him unimpressed.

"Surprise!" Hoseok chimes, striding toward his desk as if he owns this place.

Even with his presence here, Hoseok doesn't come here often. In fact, he can't remember when was the last time his friend visited him here. But out of people coming here unannounced, Hoseok makes the most sense.

It can be seen he's not here often, momentarily ripping his gaze off the frowning and intimidating CEO to admire the spacious office.

"Indeed," he mutters.

"Oh, come on. At least look like you're happy to see me!"

"Why pretend?" he simply asks, the older pursing his lips as he rolls his eyes. "Is there a reason for your... surprising visit?"

"Of course there is," he confirms, slouching himself in one of the chairs. He sighs in content, a look of surprise at how comfortable that chair is. "Alright, I'm sorry for popping in just like that–but I was around and since you barely answer my calls–"

"I'm busy."

"I know you're, Mr. CEO."

He rolls his eyes at Hoseok.

"So I came to you."

"Why? We saw each other last week."

"I'm gonna ignore that comment," he remarks, causing the younger one to shrug. "Anyway. I thought this would be better to discuss in person."

He sighs, leaning against his chair. "Just spit it out. I'm really busy."

"Okay," he says, propping his ankle against his knee as he shakes his foot. A habit of his friend that he noticed a long time ago. "When we were hanging out, you mentioned something about being in need of an assistant."

"What? You wanna be my assistant?" he jokes, amused by the idea.

Hoseok rolls his eyes and almost flips him off. But then he remembers his visit here has a purpose. He would rather not risk anything.

"No, Jungkook. I do not want to be your assistant," he emphasizes, causing his lips to curl into an amused grin. "But I know someone that might wanna."

"Hoseok," Jungkook sighs, "I don't want any of your–whoever that might be–in my company."

"What does that mean?" he gasps.

"Your choice of friends or people you know are... questionable."

"Okay, that's actually very rude!"

Jungkook shrugs. "It's true."

"How did you know I'm talking about my friend?"

"I didn't, I just called them that to keep it respectful."

"It's not one of my hook-ups!"

"Spit it out. I don't have time for this nonsense." Jungkook sighs, staring at the ceiling. Hoseok is really testing his patience. He's hungry and with a lot of work in front of him.

"My friend moved here recently and has been searching for a job. I thought you could give her a chance, I can totally vouch for her."

Jungkook blinks at the ceiling, staring down at his friend without having to move. "What this friend of yours accomplished?"

Hoseok's eyes widen and he almost stutters. "What do you–"

"Her skills? Education?"

Hoseok is the one who just blinks as Jungkook sits up straight with again, unimpressed look. "I'm not employing just anyone here, Hoseok. This is a successful company for a reason."

"Well–I don't know about any of that but I know she's hard-working and–"

"You don't know and you're here asking me to give her a job?"

"I'm asking you to give her a chance." Hoseok corrects.

"Hoseok, you're my friend–I...I don't hate you–" Hoseok glares at him. "But no."

"Jungkook!" he whines.

"I don't know this person and from the looks of it, you don't know either."

"Just because I don't know her entire resume doesn't mean she's a stranger. Just FYI–" He frowns, "But please. Just give her a chance. I need your help."

Jungkook lifts a brow.

"You know I never ask you for anything."

That one's true.

Whatever power Jungkook has in his young age – the age of twenty-eight – Hoseok has never asked him for anything. Let alone use him. He's the most valuable friend he has. Not that he would ever say it out loud. Not in usual situations anyway. Hoseok is aware of that.

"She's been trying to get a job ever since she came here. She lives in–"

"I don't care," he interrupts, scratching his forehead as he tries to soothe the wrinkles there that are caused by frowning. "She probably can't find a job because she's just not... good."

"That's not true," Hoseok quickly jumps to remark. "You know how hard it is to find a job nowadays."

It's silent for a few moments.

"Please."

"Don't." Jungkook stops him, closing his eyes.

"Just give her a chance."

He already curses himself mentally for this. Perhaps he feels a little embarrassed for Hoseok.

"Fine."

He cringes when he hears a loud squeal of excitement.

"Just one interview. That's all I can promise you." he informs him firmly.

"Thank you!" Hoseok sits up straight, his sneakers thumping against the floor.

"Now go, I've got to work."

He doesn't argue, right on his feet as he can't stop grinning at the annoyed man.

"Soyeon will give you further information." he mumbles under his breath.

"Great! Well, I would ask anyway."

Of course he would.

"Don't forget to eat."

"Okay, get out now." Jungkook mumbles quickly, ignoring the teasing smirk from his friend as he strides out of his office confidently.

Hoseok is at your place. If that can be called that.

You're only sure of that because one of the lights stopped working, the bulb burned out. Rather than having to deal with any additional expenses, because you're never too sure and it's better to be safe than sorry, you asked Hoseok if he could come today and change it.

Plus, you need someone to help you with the stress you know your job interview would bring you. And you were goddamn right.

However, that's not the only thing you're bringing with yourself.

Since you gave Hoseok the second card and code to your temporary home, you knew he would be there already. You told him to wait up for you, way before you had the opportunity to meet his friend.

That man can't be anyone's friend. You doubt it.

The moment you get your shoes off and meet Hoseok's sheepish grin, he has no time to react as you reach for one of the cushions and start hitting him repeatedly. He squeals as if his life depends on it, though no real damage is done as your frustration takes over.

"That. Was. Fucking. Awful!" You say with each hit, finally getting the cushion snatched from you as he tosses it back onto the couch behind you.

"What happened?"

Glaring at him, you see it in his eyes. The hidden glints of knowing, even the tiniest tint of apology.

"Why didn't you tell me he's fucking arrogant and rude?"

His cheeks heaten up as he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. "He can be rough around the edges, but he's not that bad."

"No!" you yell, "He's even worse!"

"Okay, let's sit down and talk." he tries, giggling nervously as he leads you to sit down.

You do, huffing out as you cross your arms over your chest. The feeling of embarrassment and close to humiliation keeps coming back every time you think about the entire moment you spent in that building. You've never felt more like shit before. He made you question your abilities and skills, judged you by your resume within seconds. He made you feel like you're nothing.

Not mentioning he's not interested in hiring you at all. He made sure to let you know that.

"Y/N, come on..." Hoseok speaks after a moment, softly and sorry just as he looks.

"Why didn't you tell me? I came there and–" You don't bring yourself to say how hopeful you were when coming there, despite being nervous. "You promised me it's going to be okay." you add way quieter, embarrassed to admit it out loud.

It sounds childish but Hoseok was the one who sparked hope and confidence in you. He assured you everything is going to work out. Of course you knew it couldn't be all true. There is always a space for failure or something not going according to plan, but this? This is your worst experience in months. Definitely takes the cake for the worst experience here in Seoul.

"I'm sorry," You hear, his features softening as he squeezes your forearm. "I knew if i told you how he can be, you wouldn't go there. I didn't want you to miss this opportunity."

"What opportunity?" you scoff.

While you realize he wanted to help, what's the purpose of it if his friend isn't exactly one that wants to help?

"He made me feel stupid."

"No," Hoseok argues, earning a glare from you. He wasn't even there! How can he argue about that? "He's just very selective with his staff."

"Oh, trust me, I figured. I mean, he wasn't exactly secretive about that."

Hoseok nervously laughs and rubs your arms. "But besides that, how did it go?"

"I–" you stop, thinking for a moment. "I don't know if it was me or you, but somehow I convinced him to let me prove myself."

"Y/N, that's amazing!" Hoseok yells excitedly, receiving a pointed look from you.

"I mean... it's worth a shot," you mutter, "But I feel like I'm gonna get fired before stepping in there."

"Listen to me," Hoseok says, scooting closer. Straightening himself, he makes sure you see his persistent features and the seriousness behind them. "You're gonna rock it there. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Jungkook can be difficult and I can't promise he's going to be all sweet, but if you'll do your job well then everything's gonna be fine. Trust yourself."

"Hobi, I trusted myself and coming back from there, I feel like utter shit."

"Come on now..."

"No, you didn't see how he looked at me. He told me people that graduated from Harvard come there looking for a job. Do you get it? Harvard. Or a fucking Yale!"

"Yeah..." he mumbles, "I told you he's successful. So is his company."

"No shit."

Hoseok chuckles, "That doesn't change the fact that you're good. You'll get better."

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel panic arising at the thought of going back there. You don't have a choice though. You can't live here for any longer and you need a job desperately.

"You're the only one that thinks this. And sorry, but that's not enough."

What you mean is that it won't affect his friend's decision in any way. Hoseok is no help at the moment. He got you the job interview which of course has helped, and you will let him know that as soon as your panic fades away a bit. But from now on, it's just you.

You'll need to prove yourself.

To wipe that arrogant look from Jeon's face.

You were up for a challenge, but this one seems to be the biggest yet.

Hoseok laughs at your words, knowing very well what you mean. Trying to light up the mood, he pokes your side with his elbow. "I'll beat him up if he's gonna treat you wrong."

"Sorry but from the looks of it, it seems like you're the one who would get his ass beaten."

Snickering at Hoseok's loud gasp – the one you know its purpose is to lighten up the mood once again – you can admit that out loud. The arrogant prick has muscles on him. You could see it from behind that desk alone.

"I'm prepared to take the risks from you." he jokes, teasing you.

"Oh, shut up!"

He laughs loudly, the ringing sound causing your lips to twitch. All the amusement is gone as his face pops up in front of you again. So are you reminded of the negative experience you unfortunately went through not even an hour ago.

"No offense to your friend, but he's a fucking asshole." you spit, not even thinking of how Hoseok can feel about you cursing at his supposedly friend. You should've been more considerate but rather than being met with offended Hoseok, you hear his laugh again.

"Well, sorry to say this but you need this asshole."

The worst part of it is that he's absolutely right.

You made sure no disaster would happen from the beginning. Like for example, waking up late on your first day of work. Just to be safe, you set up around four alarms to make sure you won't be late.

Besides not eating anything from all the nerves, you've received an encouraging message from Hoseok who puts a lot of faith in you. At least someone does. You certainly stopped the moment you met Mr. Jeon.

Or Jungkook. Like Hoseok calls him.

It feels weird to put a proper name on him. First name, is what you mean. It's weird to even call him by it in your head. There's undeniable respect (or a fear) you have of him. Even by talking to him for a few minutes, it seems like he's going to pop up the moment you call him by his first name in your mind.

With an empty stomach, minus the glass of water you gulped down before leaving, you get on your way to Jeon Investments Inc. The ride in a cab is full of anxiety and no matter how many times you try to steady your breathing, you feel like you're on the verge of a panic attack. Even the poor driver seems to be concerned as he asks you if you're okay.

Turns out, after you read the contract once you found the courage, there might be a lot of things you're not prepared for. Minus all the professional terms and conditions you're supposed to comply with, you feel lost. Utterly lost. And fucked.

You've got many questions. Once you ask, you know you will come out as inexperienced and even dumb. Being an assistant is not just taking calls and dealing with emails. That much you understood after reading the ten pages of a very professionally and legally written contract.

There is so much expected from you and being truthfully honest, you're not sure if you can make it.

Curiosity got the best of you and after gulping down a whole glass of beer – let's ignore the fact you bought it to yourself even despite your financial state – you of course, googled your boss. Can you even call him that yet? Is he officially your boss? No contract has been signed. Mr. Jeon made sure of it.

There are many articles about Jeon Jungkook. Most of it is just boring and professional stuff. It contains the same information – and there are not that many to begin with – but from the looks of it, it seems like Mr. Jeon is one lucky fucker. Has been born into a wealthy family and like in the famous books and movies, has inherited the family company. The man is practically swallowed in money.

He's successful. And well known amongst business people. Surely, he's no stranger in this particular circle of people.

But at least this is different from all the books and money. Because even though he's successful and has many official photos from different events, he's no celebrity. His life is purely private and no one digs in it. Which is probably for the best for him. This man is practically mysterious.

You're reminded by your conversation with Hoseok after you calmed down after your breakdown.

"How did you even meet a guy like him?"

"Jungkook? Ah, I've known him since he was a kid. You could say we're a distant family."

"What?!" You screeched at the thought of it. And you have no idea why.

How did you find out about it only now?

"Well, my great aunt actually married Jungkook's mom's cousin?" He questioned almost unsurely as he frowned in thought before he nodded. "Yeah. It's a little mixed up and we're not really blood related but yeah."

Thinking about it now, it makes sense.

Where else would Hoseok meet someone like him? Without a doubt, he must've attended some private college and surely, all types of schools before that. God, he's definitely one of those people that were in a private daycare! You can only assume and you don't want to put any stereotypes on him, but based on what you know about him, he lives a different life than you and most people for sure.

Who owns millions worth company at the age of––How old is he?

That's something you forgot to ask Hoseok.

The cab ride is awfully fast. Which you should be glad for. You're ten minutes earlier which is definitely better than being late. Plus, it will take you some time to get to the top floor. Especially if you'll have to go through the same process with security like before.

You do.

The security makes you do the same routine like you had to go through when you first got here. It is their job and you fully understand that, though you're a little annoyed when they eye you as if you're carrying a gun underneath all your clothing. After all of that is done and you do have to inform your arrival at the front desk, you're finally allowed to go on the lift.

You're not even sure if you work at the same floor where Mr. Jeon is, but guess you will find out. Despite your inner nerves and anxiety crawling up your throat, you try to appear confident as if you're not ten seconds from a mental breakdown.

Your presence is luckily ignored, everyone seems to be on their way to work as most of them exchange greetings. Since you don't know anyone and you're not familiar with any of their faces, you remain silent unless you share eye contact with someone. You have no problem politely greeting anyone. It does put you a little at ease when most employees give you the tiniest tilt of a smile.

The floor that you're slightly familiar with is less empty than you remember it to be, but there are still a few people walking down the halls. Getting to the front desk, you wait up there when you find it empty. Not trying to get nervous because of it, you keep looking around. You definitely look out of place. No doubt there.

Someone gets out of the backroom and the female you're already familiar with, gets behind the desk. It doesn't take too long for her to notice you and when her eyes fall upon you, you make sure to greet her and explain why you are here.

You're not sure if she's informed of your purpose here but she nods regardless.

"Mr. Jeon is not expected to arrive for the next hour. But that doesn't concern you, at least not now. First, we have to give you an attire."

Oh, that's right.

Everyone has a certain dress code and since you haven't received any clothes, or instruction what to wear, you wore something work appropriate. Something similar you wore to the job interview.

"Come with me." she says with a little smile, motioning you to follow her as she leads you down the hall.

She stops, pulling out a card from her pocket as she attaches it to the scanner.

Opening one of the doors that is similar to the next dozen ones you've passed by, you walk inside. It's a small sized room, compared to the big halls and enormous office you were interviewed in. There's nothing special about it, though you wonder what this room is for. Besides a transparent circle shaped glass table and tall sized dressers, there's not much in here.

Still, the room is designed well and goes with the rest of the company's aesthetic. In the corner you notice a small kitchen cabinet. There is a coffee machine and a table next to the cabinet with two stools. It seems like a breakroom but you're not sure. It seems... small compared to what this company is.

The drawer being open is heard as the female that is yet to be introduced to you, asks your size. You answer her and watch in awe as she pulls out clothing.

"Do you prefer pants or a skirt?"

A little taken aback, you look at her and notice her wearing a skirt. Well, you did shave your legs. "Skirt." you respond before thinking it through.

"You can wear whatever is more comfortable to you. Mr. Jeon isn't too stern about women wearing skirts and it's completely up to us. Of course, you can change it whenever you want. You don't have to wear skirts all the time," she explains as she sets the pile of clothing that matches everyone's attire on the glass table.

"You can wear your set of clothes too, they don't have to be company's. Some employees prefer wearing this since it saves money. But you're free to buy and wear your own clothes as long as it meets our dress code. Nothing too revealing and in the dark colors, so black or dark blue,"

You try to give attention to every word she says and you desperately let too much information sink in. Her mouth just won't stop.

"The heels you've on are fine. That isn't provided by the company, though we do have some emergency options in the dresser there," She points at one of the dressers. "You buy your own heels, that is something the company gives you money for every two months. It's added as an extra in your paycheck."

Luxury.

"This room is not an official break room. That's somewhere else, I can take you there," She says when she glances at her watch. "This is mainly just an emergency room when you need to change clothes. It's almost like a storage room. But you can come here and make yourself coffee. I prefer to do that sometimes because it's close to my desk and it's less crowded. No one really comes in here. It's not used as much."

You nod as she glances around.

"The windows are tinted, so no one can see inside. So don't worry about the lack of curtains. You can change your clothes here, it's safe."

"Thank you."

"Very well then. I'll let you get changed. You can put your clothes back in that dresser in the corner and get them back when you clock off."

"Okay, thank you."

And with that, she spins on her heels and walks out of the room. She closes the door after her to give you some privacy. Not wasting any time, you quickly change your clothes and do everything based on what information she told you. The clothes fit and surprisingly, it's very comfortable as well.

Your hands caress the material of your skirt and without doubt, it's clearly expensive.

Adjusting your hair, you walk out of the room to find her waiting for you. Once she sees you, she wastes zero time and starts leading you elsewhere. You have a lot to catch on.

She briefly starts pointing at the countless doors, explaining what's behind them. As much as you listen to her and try to remember everything she's saying, there's no way you will remember all of it by the time she's done.

Passing through the glassed big room with a long table and dozens of chairs, she introduces it as one of the meeting rooms.

"It's the most used one. Big meetings and contracts are signed there."

There is also a big projector screen on one side of the wall with the greatest view of the city.

She points to restrooms, not wasting time in going in there as she reminds you there's not much time.

This girl is like a robot. She says everything fast and there's no hint of doubt or anything. You wonder how long it took her to learn everything. There really is no way someone is able to know all of this in a day. But rather than being met with any sign of empathy, she keeps showing you around and throwing new information on you from every side.

"As you might have noticed, I work at the front desk on this floor. We will mainly work together, but your job as an assistant is closer to Mr. Jeon. Whatever you will have to deal with and prepare, I will inform you about. It's your job to make sure it runs smoothly."

She says as you follow behind her, trying to match her fast and long strides.

Oh god, you can't do this. And you're not talking about walking fast in high heels.

"Now this," she says, close to her desk and across from Mr. Jeon's office, before she opens the door. "is your office."

You both walk inside. Immediately met with the luxurious interior, you stare at the beige and goldish furniture that despite the color, it all seems minimalistic and clean. The entire room smells nice, and is definitely cleaner thoroughly. There's a white desk and behind it is the entire wall of long shelves with binders sorted most likely alphabetically. Even the shelves are backlit with LED lights. Since the entire building is covered in windows, there is an amazing view on your right side as you stand in front of the desk.

"This will be your workplace. You will handle all calls, emails and everything of that sort here. Of course, you will be required to move around the building, so this place is mostly for you to handle the things where you need some peace and quiet."

"Wow," you manage to say. "This office is beautiful."

There are even nice plants in matching pots that make this place more alive.

"It sure is," she hums, "I don't think you will use it that much though."

You look at her a little confusingly. "Well, it's mainly for those calls and emails. You have tons of other work to do."

You don't get the courage to ask for more information. At least not now when you barely have enough time to blink.

"Follow me."

She leads you further down the hall, knowing every corner like the back of her hand as she greets passing by coworkers automatically. Some of them steal a curious look at you, but their prying eyes are long forgotten when your focus is elsewhere.

"Saja," The woman calls out, stopping between the huge door frame.

Across her shoulder, you notice a spacious room with multiple tables and stools around them. This has to be the break room she told you about before. The scent of morning coffee mixed with freshness hits your nose, the freshness that floats in the air through the entire building.

One of the employees turns around, her gaze falling on her colleague shortly after as she excuses herself and walks up to the two of you. You notice she looks at you for a short period, mainly keeping her focus on the woman in front of you.

"Could you please show–I'm sorry, what was your name again?" she asks, glancing across her shoulder as her apologetic eyes fall down on you.

Ignoring the pinch of embarrassment, your name fills the short silence that is shared between the three of you.

"You don't mind me calling you by your first name?" she assures.

"No, that's fine." you respond, hoping all of you can be at least friendly with each other. She did call the other woman by her first name.

"Great," she takes a breath as she turns back facing – was it Saja? "I need you to explain to Y/N what's expected from her, especially today. I showed her around, so I hope–" She glances back at you, "You slightly know your way around."

Saja nods, clearly knowing this beforehand because her reaction is not full of surprise. In fact, there's zero surprise.

"She's your responsibility right now," She reminds her and even though Saja nods, you see her brows slightly raised in a mere annoyance. "Don't forget, Mr. Jeon expects everything to run smoothly."

"Of course." she says.

The woman that has shown you around turns to you, her lips close to a soft smile but her mind seems to be elsewhere. Clearly she's rushing to go back to work, at least you assume that is the reason for her abruptness. When she glances at her watch, it confirms your suspicion.

"Well, good luck on your first day."

"Thanks–" You stop, giving her a questioning look when you realize you don't know her name. She hasn't introduced herself to you.

Whether the realization hits her at the lack of introduction on her side, she doesn't show it and offers you a simple answer.

"Soyeon."

"Thank you, Soyeon."

"Just listen to Saja here, she will explain the rest to you. And don't stress too much."

That's easier said than done.

"Any advice?" you ask, chuckling nervously as she gives you a sympathetic look.

"Don't mess up."

Your mouth falling open and a total despair dominating your features, you watch Soyeon wave at you before she scurries away. You swear your heart just dropped and the stress of not being able to do this comes up to you in a bigger intensity.

Though you seem panicked and not present, you do notice Saja's eyes scanning you from head to toe as she clears her throat. Looking at her, she motions you to join her in the room. Ignoring all eyes on you, you focus on her as she leads you toward the kitchen counter.

"Mr. Jeon comes at half past eight every morning. Occasionally an hour earlier, so you should always be prepared for that just in case,"

What are you supposed to do? Spread a red carpet for him?

"By the time he comes here, he needs to have his schedule ready for him. You also do that a day prior, sending him his schedule electronically. But you still need to have everything ready the day he comes in, so this means all papers and other details that he needs to check over or have it prepared for him."

You nod along with her explanation as if you've done this before.

"The assistant before you had that prepared for you, so you don't have to do it today. But it is expected of you to do that tomorrow and from now on,"

"Okay."

"Mr. Jeon doesn't like someone coming inside his office when he's not there. But as his assistant, he prefers all the documents to be on his desk, fully prepared and ready for him, when he gets there. That's where Soyeon comes, she's going to inform you Mr. Jeon entered his office and that's when you bring his morning coffee to him."

Is he a king or a boss?

Mr. Jeon seems like the biggest menace already.

"Are you listening to me?" she frowns.

"I am, it's just too much information and I'm trying to process it."

You're not met with an ounce of empathy as she scowls at you as if you've done something wrong. That leaves you a little bitter but you don't let it show. You simply just stare at her, a knowing glint in your eyes when you're clearly not scared by her little attitude. What did she expect? Was she I Know It All when it was her first day?

This is insane.

There's no way anyone that comes to work on their first day knows everything. Not to mention even if that person has experience in this field, every company is different. Every boss is different. Every boss requires something different.

"You better learn fast then. Mr. Jeon doesn't like slackers."

Frowning again, this time you can't fully hide it as you give her a look. Did she call you slacker just because you don't know everything? Which is absolutely fine because Hello, it's your first day here!

She glances at the wall to check the time on a big circled clock that is attached to the wall. Wow, even the clock looks fancy!

Oh shit, she's walking away. Quickly catching up to her, she starts showing you the coffee machine. Automatically, she prepares the cup and barely gives you any time to fully grasp what buttons she's pressing.

"Mr. Jeon should arrive any minute. Soyeon will let you know and you'll bring coffee to him. Along with the papers that are on your desk, I'll show you which ones."

"Won't the coffee turn cold?"

He's not here, he is supposed to arrive. You might not well Mr. Jeon well but he seems like the type to get annoyed when his coffee is cold. And judging by Saja's pause, he most likely is and your guess has been right.

"If he comes later, you'll just make him another one."

Mentally shaking your head at the ridiculously over some coffee, she motions for you to grab the cup as she ushers you out of the break room. You try not to spill it, matching her pace as she gets inside your now office in long strides as she opens the door fast and wide. You even passed Soyeon's reception desk but you were rushing to even notice her.

She tosses the stack of documents onto your paper. Ready to walk out, you stop her abruptly by quickly saying; "Thank you!"

She stops, barely giving you a glance across her shoulder as her light hair shines in the natural lightning. She styled it in a neat ponytail that makes her look super professional.

And with that, she leaves with no words.

She lets the door open, not even closing it behind her as you stare at the door frame where she was standing just seconds ago. Blinking and swallowing down the irritation, you place the steaming hot coffee on your desk. Careful not to spill it over the documents. That would be truly a horror scenario.

Sighing, you rub your forehead softly, trying not to rub off any make-up you put there. You tuck strands of hair behind your ears, cursing yourself for not putting it up.

The beeping sound comes from the desk, causing you to jump in surprise as you look around. It's coming from an office phone and you quickly rush to it. You stare at the multiple buttons and touch screen. Logically, you pick up the actual phone and put it to your ear.

Before your mouth opens, Soyeon's voice already reaches your ears.

"Mr. Jeon just entered his office. You have his coffee ready?"

Glancing at the steaming hot coffee, you answer. "Yes."

"Perfect," she sighs, almost in relief. "Oh, not sure if Saja told you but there's an iPad in one of the drawers in your desk. We all have one. That's going to be your best friend from now on."

"Oh, okay, thank you."

In fact, Saja did not tell you about it.

You've got so many questions about the stupid iPad. What's it for? Why do you need to use it? But before you can actually ask anything, Soyeon tells you one last thing before ending the call.

"You better get him the coffee now. Mr. Jeon doesn't like waiting."

Mr. Jeon can go fuck himself.

Still, you carefully grab the cup of coffee and the documents. Trying to balance it in both of your hands is no joke, but you somehow manage as you rush out of your office. Passing by Soyeon who's on the call, your eyes meet but there's no time for any sort of interaction besides that as you knock at Mr. Jeon's office door.

"Just get in, he knows it's you." Soyeon whisper yells at you, a hand covering the phone's microphone.

Aren't you supposed to knock? Fuck, you're going to fuck this up so badly.

You can barely open the heavy door, but again, you surprise yourself by managing to do that without any damage done. Being back in this office brings memories but there's no time to dwell on it, not when you have a job to do.

You see him.

The suit jacket being tossed over the couch that's pressed against the wall, right next to the massive windows. He stands tall, wearing a black button-up with slacks that match his suit jacket. You don't look too much, setting this down onto his desk just as he reaches it and sits behind it.

When you look at him, you notice the look he gives you.

A look of disbelief that you're really here. He definitely thought you would give up.

But rather than give him that satisfaction – and the fact you need this job – you send him a smile. "Good morning."

You're pleased with yourself. Maybe you caught him off guard by having everything prepared for him. Well, they said he needs these two things from you today and you've managed to do it. That sounds like a success, right?

"What is this?" he asks, ignoring your greeting like the arrogant prick he is.

He stares at the cup of coffee, annoyance overshadowing his entire features. And you thought he already looked annoyed.

"Your coffee?" you ask dumbly.

Confused of why he's even asking, you notice his jaw clenching before he looks away to take a deep breath. Breath to regain patience. One he doesn't seem to have.

"Is this a joke?"

Your eyes widen, a lump creating in your throat as you stare at his cold demeanor. "Pardon?"

"I don't drink macchiato."

How were you supposed to fucking know that?

"I'm sorry–I didn't–"

You didn't make it. You didn't know.

But he's not interested in your apology. Nor witnessing you being a stuttering mess.

"Black. No sugar." Is all he says through clenched teeth.

Is this a fucking coffee shop?

His eyes are on your hands as you carefully grab the failed coffee. You have a feeling as if he's going to attack you any second and even such a detail like him glaring at your hands seems intimidating.

Sighing, he ignores your presence as he pulls the documents you brought him closer, opening one of them.

With a clenched jaw, you walk out of his office in complete embarrassment and anger. It feels like you're going to cry and you surprise yourself that you already feel this way. This day could not be worse.

You've managed to already fail and fuck it up, right in front of Mr. Jeon.

Luckily, Soyeon is not at her desk when you pass by. Finding the right way to a break room, there are less people there than before. Everyone has gone to work.

"What are you doing?" Soyeon suddenly walks in, an iPad in her hands. "Please don't tell me you haven't brought Mr. Jeon his coffee. I saw you walking in there."

Biting the inside of your cheek, you mutter through clenched teeth. "Wasn't the coffee he wanted."

"You got his coffee wrong?" she shrieks as if it's the end of the world.

Preventing yourself from rolling your eyes at the dramatics, you rather explain it. "I wasn't the one who made it. Saja did without telling me what coffee he drinks."

Soyeon stares and you don't know what to think of her look. Does she think you're accusing her that this is her fault? Well, it sort of is but they're colleagues. You don't want to make enemies here. So you nervously chuckle and quickly add;

"She probably got it mixed up."

Soyeon walks closer, helping you to navigate your way with the machine as you silently thank her.

"She knows Mr. Jeon's coffee preference." Is all she says before she gives you a knowing look, walking away with a sympathetic scrunch of her brows.

As the coffee pours and the sound of it fills the silence, you stare at the city view.

She purposely gave you the wrong coffee.

Soyeon never specifically said Saja has set you up. She didn't directly hint at it and perhaps it's just been your rash judgment. Reminded again that this is only your first day here and you don't know anything or anyone, perhaps she made a mistake. That could be the case too. Though you feel bad for thinking the worst, which stems from the fact people are assholes, you focus on doing a good job from now on.

Not that the previous mistake was really your fault.

You're that kind of person who tries to set the record straight no matter what. So this bothers you even now, but Mr. Jeon definitely doesn't care about any of your explanations. The warning look he gives you when you bring him the right coffee shuts you up immediately.

Plus, it could all be just a mistake and you wouldn't want to make any accusations over a stupid coffee choice. You haven't graduated from Harvard as Mr. Jeon was so kind to remind you, but you're not dumb. You're not going to make enemies – nor you ever want to. But dealing with not so important things on your first day is not it. Even if your ego and tendency for justice is highly bruised.

When you're back in your office, you try to make sense of all the papers and documents. There's no one exactly guiding you for it. Turns out the iPad that has been given you shows you Mr. Jeon's schedule. It must've been done by the previous assistant. Everything is neat and in order. You can do that.

You're in the middle of reviewing the device, trying to see how things were previously done so you could do your best, when your phone rings again. You click on the touch screen, staring wide-eyed when it comes to life and Soyeon's voice fills the silence.

"Hey, Mr. Jeon has a meeting at ten. Your presence there is needed."

It's almost embarrassing how your stomach churns at that information – and especially at the thought of it. Being in a meeting full of wealthy men? What are you supposed to do there?

"May I ask why?" you ask – nervously – because you're not sure what you're supposed to do there.

You've read the contract. First of all, there is too much information for you to remember all of it. Accompanying Mr. Jeon to meetings among other things is one of them, that much you remember.

"You won't accompany him to all his meetings. This one's big, so you're mostly there to take additional notes and whatever Mr. Jeon tells you."

Is he going to tell you? Because it seems like he expects you to know everything right off the bat. Though you keep that snarky remark to yourself.

"You just need to be present and actually listen."

A few minutes later, after being navigated by Soyeon to the big meeting room she had shown you earlier, it turns out you were actually right. The room is filled with men wearing suits that scream rich and regardless of their clothing, you can tell they're important. Their age differs, it's a good mixture of young and elders. You do find some comfort when there are two other women there as well. Though, you have no idea what's their purpose or if they're one of the investors, the meeting happens after the official greeting.

They take turns. Setting up their presentations as they continue to speak about either theirs or someone else's business. You're not sure what you're supposed to take notes of. In fact, Mr. Jeon hasn't spoken to you since he successfully ignored your presence here.

He sits at the head of the long table, dark eyes settled on whoever is presenting, listening to them carefully. He has documents settled in front of him, which you soon figure out are the other investors' plans. Whatever they're presenting to him, he has in front of him on paper. You quickly note the nervousness that some men, older than Mr. Jeon for sure, show and truthfully, you don't blame them.

It feels weird to be seated behind the same table as them. You sit on the right side of Mr. Jeon. After a while, he leans back and makes himself more comfortable. Your attention is put on him, noticing he's been playing with a pen, twirling it between his long fingers. Are those rings? You quickly look away, cursing at yourself over and over again.

Well, it's no secret this arrogant fucker is hot. You haven't had the chance to properly... look at him. The dominance oozes out of him which makes him slightly intimidating. Or maybe it's a mixture of his stern and cold exterior.

You're not a fan of him. That much is clear but none of that is important. You don't need to be one. You just need this job and stupidly said, the money that comes with it. If having to put up with someone full of himself like Mr. Jeon, you will have to endure it. At least until you'll be able to find another job. Having an experience in this company would open many doors for you for sure.

Look at you.

Here you are thinking of this when no contract has been signed yet.

A notification pops on your iPad and you stare for a moment before looking around. Are you allowed to look? It's not your personal iPad, it's not like whatever there is is your personal stuff, it must be work related. Before the screen can darken again, you check it. It's a file you open, trying to look as discrete as you can. Everyone's listening to Mr. Choi (if you remember the name in his presentation well), so you quickly take a peek.

It's a file with everyone's name and the name of their business and presentation. Some of them are marked with a cross and others with a questioning mark. Frowning a little in confusion, you look around. Your breath hitches as soon as you find Mr. Jeon staring at you from your side.

His stare is cold as ever, his eyes not faltering as you realize. He's the one who has sent you this. You're not sure why you send him a soft nod, silently telling him that you understood.

No reaction comes from him and his attention is directed back to the presenting man.

It continues like this. As the man comes and goes to switch places at the presenting spot and in front of a huge screen, Mr. Jeon slowly sends you his decisions. It's the only communication between you.

As the meeting continues, you mostly take the notes for yourself as you separate the projects based on Mr. Jeon's previous marks. It's mostly to keep it more neat for you. You're not sure what you're supposed to do with it, but you'll find out from either Soyeon or Mr. Jeon himself. If not, you're just going to have to ask. You're not a fucking mind reader.

All presentations roughly take two hours, you swear your butt has no feeling from all the sitting. Your stomach is empty and it feels like you've lost your butt, it intensifies when you stand up. Mr. Jeon shakes his hand with the others, giving them one last greeting before he walks out of the room. You rush to catch up to him.

Your heels clink beside him as he's aware of your presence. He has to be. Yet he doesn't even spare you a glance as he stops at the elevator and clicks on the button. The elevator door opens immediately, a little surprised how hectic and fast everything seems, you take your place a little behind him.

"I want their presentations sorted out."

Oh my god.

Maybe this day is not going to be so bad after all.

With a little smugness spreading in your chest, you confidently state; "I've already done that. I'll send it to you."

And then he glances behind him, right back at you as he makes sure you see the lift on his brow. Does he not believe you? Is he impressed? It's so hard to make out what he's thinking. He's definitely a very hard person to be around with. Hoseok deserves a golden medal for putting up with him.

Irritated by his reaction, with swift taps to your screen, a sound of email being sent fills the elevator.

You plaster a fake smile at him, making sure he sees it as you softly say. "Already done."

His features harden as he turns around. "I'm staying in for lunch today."

"Okay?" you ask unsurely.

You hear him taking a breath, but you can't see his face since he's not facing you. But he's undoubtedly irritated by your unprofessional response or at all, by your presence.

"Have you not done any research?" he snarks.

Taken back for a second, you quickly shake yourself out of it. "I have not been informed about your lunch, no."

"Careful, Miss Y/L/N. You're already off to a bad start."

Before you can open your mouth and inform him that the bad start wasn't your fault at all, he doesn't seem to care as he stops you with his palm lifted in the air. His fingers slightly curled as his rings shine.

"This time make sure the coffee is black, or you'll be out of here faster than you can spell coffee."

Opening your mouth at the audacity, luckily for you he turns around right after as the elevator dings and informs you of the floor. He walks out and leaves, leaving you there with an open mouth and anger rising. Before the elevator door can close again, you quickly make it out of there and walk toward your office, hoping your walk doesn't come as aggressive as you feel.

Turns out Mr. Jeon also sends his preference for lunch and it's one of your duties to get it for him. Among all the information Soyeon has been able to give you, one of them is that you either have to get it ordered or get it personally. She explained it when you were on your way to get his freaking black coffee. It's dark just like his personality is.

You might not be an assistant before – you knew getting him things like this would be your responsibility and well, job as well. Mr. Jeon wants this and that. Mr. Jeon prefers it like this. Mr. Jeon doesn't like that.

It hasn't been even a full day of you working, yet you feel like you want to strangle that man. He has power, everything around you, in here, is his. He can afford getting this kind of service and you're paid for it.

Perhaps it's your own irritation that is simply caused by the mentioned man, but you feel more like his slave than an assistant.

Luckily, he chose Italian for his lunch today and Soyeon helped you in showing his favorite restaurant. How she knows all of that about him is beyond you. Anyway, they could get it delivered just in time, so it's kind of your lucky day. All you have to do is to get downstairs and out of the building to take it. Plus bring it straight to his office, of course.

"There are a few restaurants that take time to get it delivered, or sometimes they are so busy that they can't get it delivered in Mr. Jeon's scheduled lunch time. That's when you have to get it for him instead."

It's what she told you when she was clicking Mr. Jeon's order.

"There is also a car in the garage that's for this purpose. When you need to run some errands to be exact."

That freaked you out.

You're new. Not just here but in this city. You don't know its streets and even though you don't doubt the car has navigation, you're a little stressed about that. But can you show it? No. You don't need anyone doubting you.

Nerves are calmed down when you get your boss his lunch and everything runs smoothly. He gets his pasta and even though he barely acknowledges you, it's a success.

One of the things you always worried about when coming to a new job is being left out. Being in a new collective is never easy and it can be nerve wrecking for obvious reasons. So when Soyeon suggests you join her for lunch, you relax and happily agree.

It becomes your chance to meet – as you could say – your colleagues. They're welcoming and curious, asking you how you ended up in the city. For a moment it seems like you're a new attraction and despite all the attention on you, you prefer they engage you in their conversation. Even though you're the main topic of it.

Saja is there as well. You still don't know what to think of the whole coffee situation, but she seems at ease and not looking as if she was aware of her mistake.

"So, how do you like it here, newbie?" Max, the tallish dark haired guy with sharp eyes and prominent features asks.

"It's her first day." One of the women whose name you can't remember points out.

Max gives her a look, "So? She already feels about it somehow, right?"

He looks at you, and so do the rest of them as you're just trying to enjoy your beef broth. "It's been slightly stressful, but it's my first day. So I'm just trying to remember everything."

"Honestly, we all have been through that. First days are never easy." The woman speaks again as Soyeon shrugs while Saja reapplies her lip tint.

"Ah, the pressure to not fuck up is tough, right?" Max complains as if he's the one that's been through the most stressful day. Well, he might have. You never know.

"Max." Soyeon warns him.

"What? We're not in the company." He rolls his eyes which amuses you as Soyeon glares at his audacity to roll his eyes at her.

"I can't imagine being Mr. Jeon's assistant. The pressure must be a lot." The woman says again, her short hair barely reaching the top of her shoulders as she pouts slightly.

"What are you talking about? Mr. Jeon is a great boss." Saja says, twisting the lip tint close as she puts it into her purse.

"I never said he's not great," But you can. While she remarks at Saja to correct her, she simply shrugs. "I just mean the pressure is even bigger considering his assistant works with him the most."

"I could do it any day." Saja says confidently.

Your and Max's eyes meet for a brief moment, his lips twitch slightly but he seems to not react much. You're slightly curious about his reaction, though you act like you haven't seen it as you continue enjoying your soup.

"Good luck to you, really," The woman says, "Have you managed to mess something up?"

You swallow down the broth, straightening yourself as you clear your throat. They all stare at you expectedly, the table quieting down. Oh god. "I, ah, I mean is nothing big, at least I think."

They stare even more and you mentally roll your eyes before muttering under his breath.

"I got him the wrong coffee."

Soyeon turns her head at you, staring and for a moment you think she's silently scolding you. Not that you care, they can all fuck off. You've had a rough day and it hasn't even ended. While the woman stares at you in empathy, Max goes back to eating.

"I mean it's not that bad." she adds, voicing her empathy.

"Was he mad?" Max asks.

"Well," you hesitate, cocking your head to the side. "He wasn't happy for sure."

"Oh poor you." The woman whines as if you're destined for death.

And that's when you glance at Saja. She stares and that's when you know she realizes. You're silent, not really sure if you want to throw her under the bus. It's also a great opportunity to see how she's going to react. She clearly saw your look. It's a silent communication between you.

She clears her throat, "Oh? Was that the wrong one?"

"Yeah." you deadpan.

"Sorry about that." Is all she says as the conversation drifts to a different topic. You enjoy your meal, finally getting some food into your empty stomach.

After you're back from lunch break, you get back into sinking as much information as you can on your own. Which means – exploring the new device that has been given to you, along with basic information about Mr. Jeon's meetings, schedule and even the emails he has sent. For a certain time being, you feel utterly lost. Not that's not any news.

You try to not let yourself lose in the craziness and hecticness this company seems to be holding. Everyone seems to work automatically, not mentioning they're synchronized like the greatest machine there could exist. Except, they're all human and perhaps they forget you're one too. Or maybe they just expect you to know everything and jump into this work. Is it possible?

Between the chunks of time you seem to have, you doubt yourself and your abilities. It's not the actual work you doubt. It's the fact that everyone and everything seems to run smoothly and fast, while you're left in your own chaos in the tallest and biggest building on this street.

Though, you're not as useless as your doubts and anxiety might've made you feel. You get a hang of Mr. Jeon's schedule and work plan. At least most of it.

This man is busy. Not the usual busy.

He has meetings every day. It doesn't matter whether they're long or short, it takes most of his time. There is a bunch of material and stuff that needs to be prepared for him – every day – and he has to get through it all.

No wonder the man is so bitter.

With so much work on his shoulders, you would fuck the money and end this business.

Perhaps, that's why you're not the millionaire here.

Chuckling at your ridiculous thoughts, you're in the middle of checking the mailbox when the phone rings. Recognizing the four code number, you realize it's Soyeon and you already brace yourself for whatever dumb requests might Mr. Jeon has this time.

"There is Mr. Kang on the line, he wants to schedule a meeting."

"Okay–"

Before you can ask her anything quickly, there's a beep sound before a male's voice resounds in the speaker. Greeting him politely, the call runs smoothly as Mr. Kang seems to be very easy going and helps you navigate yourself even without him knowing.

You check Mr. Jeon's schedule, noticing Mr. Kang is already one of his partners and it turns out, Mr. Jeon has invested a lot of money into his entertainment business. As he tells you and requests, your boss' presence is needed and it's not a meeting that could be done directly in the company. That's why you choose the day where his schedule is not as crazy.

You're not sure if you've scheduled it right but Mr. Kang seems to be pleased either way. The call ends shortly after and you're left in silence. Leaning back in your chair, you sigh in relief.

That wasn't so bad.

With upcoming calls, there are numbers straight up calling you but thanks to the call with Mr. Kang, you already know what to expect. You schedule a few meetings here and there, making sure you make reminders for Mr. Jeon. Some of them had to be added or pushed forward. You're not sure if you're doing well, but you're going with your intention. You'll soon find out anyway.

Surprisingly, the rest of the days goes like this and your brain is focused on doing the job, rather than stressing over everything. It keeps you pleasantly busy, or perhaps it's because there's no one that brags in here and pours hundreds of new information on you.

You barely see your boss. He's mostly locked in his office, preferably not wanting to be disturbed – something you quickly pick on. Or maybe it's your assumption because how else would you know? You've been locked in your office (not literally) and doing (hopefully) your job.

Though, he asks you to bring him one of the old contracts between one of his partners. You search for it, but luckily the previous assistant kept things neat. Therefore, you haven't spent too long searching for it and probably testing Mr. Jeon's patience.

When you come into his office, after announcing yourself of course with a gentle knock, he taps into his laptop barely giving you any sort of gaze. You're used to it by now. Even though he seems to be busy, you still mentally roll your eyes at the lack of... respect? Acknowledgement? He surely could be more kind if he wanted to.

As you place the contract onto his desk, informing him of it even though he knows, you spin on your heels to get back to the safety and comfort of your office.

"Wait," he says as if it physically pains him to even talk to you. Or maybe it's just the gruff of his voice and the depth in it. You're surely assuming a lot of things.

Turning around and trying to keep your facial expression polite, you give him a questioning look. One he finally sees when he finally decides to spare you a glance.

"I need you to reschedule the meeting with Mr. Kang. I already have something planned there."

Frowning in confusion, you try to think back of his schedule you've seen dozens of times by now. Have you made a mistake? You're sure his day was mostly free, in terms of nothing big scheduled and planned.

Or there's a chance he made a mistake? You did send him his schedule though. He must've approved when he had no objections. Until now.

"Your schedule was free on that day, sir." you inform him, the tone hesitant as if you already suspect he has made a mistake. You're still wary about it though.

He stops typing, his eyes flickering back to your figure for a split second that has your stomach clenched in discomfort. This is it. You're either getting scolded or fired. The first option seems more pleasant.

"I've got a private schedule." he remarks with the same stoic expression you've seen a handful of times. Does this man have any emotions? Because you're seriously doubting it.

Oh well. You couldn't have known he has a private schedule. Shouldn't you know about these kinds of things?

"Oh, sorry. I will reschedule the meeting right away." you say, swallowing down your pride and the need to voice your thoughts.

Of course, you know you can't speak freely because this is your freaking boss. He's cold and demands professionalism. It wouldn't be right of you to tell him that you didn't in fact know about his private schedule. Because there is no way you would know.

And perhaps there might be a little luck in all of this. Maybe he clearly sees the distress on your face as he rolls his shoulders before opening his mouth.

"I wanted to add it and send it to you after reviewing my schedule." he informs.

You both stare at each other for a moment, while you're processing the fact he just indirectly told you it's not your fault. He knows you wouldn't know.

"Just make sure the meeting is rescheduled," he mutters, eyes focused on the screen of his laptop again. "You may leave."

Thank you, your Highness.

You leave for real this time. With a tiny feeling of accomplishment in your heart.

Mr. Kang – or what you assume his assistant to be exact – has shown no problem in rescheduling the meeting. You were slightly worried he wouldn't be pleased but after his assistant checked with him, he didn't seem to mind at all.

The sun is setting down and the view from your office is worth every second. You even steal a quick photo of it before you return back to work.

This room is quite isolated but even the little sounds you could've heard throughout the day, just the ones that let you know this place is active and busy, have subtly faded away. The company is less hectic and everyone's probably on their way home. You won't lie, you've checked time and according to a contract that was given to you, you should've clocked off already.

But – you had a few emails to sort out along with your own personal research of Mr. Jeon's working ethic and schedule. You understand things more now, you studying and trying to get a hang of it certainly helped.

You're not a coffee drinker but you've made yourself one after stealing five minutes, to get yourself one in the break room. The cup is now empty, sitting on your desk as you've left the door ajar. You have one more email to read before you pack it up. Even Soyeon is not at her desk and you assume she already left home.

You're in the middle of staring into the screen, your eyes slightly aching as your door is suddenly pushed open. The sound is loud enough to catch your attention, even if it wasn't for your peripheral vision.

You stare wide-eyed at Mr. Jeon, glancing around as if he's checking to see the room intact. Once he finds nothing suspicious or worth his attention, his gaze falls down on you.

"What are you doing here?"

Somehow that question is invading, yet it's simple and said with a cold tone.

Opening your mouth, you try to find the right words as he glances at the surely expensive watch hugging his wrist. Not mentioning it all matches with his dark suit.

"You were supposed to leave an hour ago."

"I wasn't sure–"

"You didn't read the contract?" he cuts you off, frowning. "It clearly states how long your usual working days are."

In fact, you read it. Along with the information that there is something called a basic shift and additional schedule. It consists of special events, occasions when you're needed outside of the company and your usual working time. So far, nobody has really talked about it yet and it's something you need to know about more.

"I wasn't sure–" you continue, louder or at least loud enough to catch his attention and let him know he interrupted you. The way his face twists into irritation is not something you should play with.

But His Highness is probably not aware that interrupting is considered as impolite.

"--I could leave just like that since it's my first day. Actually, I was planning to finish an email before leaving."

"You're better here when you're well rested each day. I don't need an employee who works overtime because they can't finish their work on time."

The jab is there, loud and clear, one you should've been prepared for. Of course he's going to give you an attitude about this.

"Didn't Miss Kim tell you when you're supposed to finish?"

You have no idea who Miss Kim is, it's either Saja or Soyeon. But one thing you know, none of them let you know nothing.

"In fact, no she didn't." you inform him with a pointed look, watching him narrow his eyes at you.

Whatever he's thinking, he keeps it to himself. "Pack your things and leave."

He goes to turn around and leave, your panic getting the best of you as you quickly jump to your feet. "And come back tomorrow?"

His steps halt to a complete stop as he glances across his shoulder.

"You said you would give me a chance."

"And I'm keeping my word, Miss Y/L/N."

Pressing your lips together, your fingers leaning against your desk as you try to prevent them from shaking.

"I want all the documents on my desk before eight tomorrow. And don't mess up my coffee."

And he's out of the room, leaving you with your mouth open and eyes widened. You slowly blink, realizing hitting you slowly and surely as your lips stretch into a wide smile.

You're expected here tomorrow. He didn't fire you.

Yet.

Your legs and walk flow in a confidence you were definitely lacking the day before. Even though this job seems like something where you don't know what to expect every day, you're more content with yourself by your yesterday's performance rather than disappointed and upset about it.

Though, there is still a slight fear of what's awaiting for you creeping around the corner. But you don't let it ruin your morning. Now when the sun starts to peek in, the morning's fresh air naturally lifts your mood.

Maybe it's not just the fear that could potentially make you anxious. You also have a huge respect for this job. Not only because you need it, but you also want to do your best. While you truly admit you wouldn't be able to work there without Hoseok's help, you'll try to prove you deserve to have a place there.

Mr. Jeon would never even let you enter the building if Hoseok wouldn't persuade him to give you a chance. Figuratively speaking. Mr. Jeon isn't probably the person that deals with employing people from the start. They have to go through different check-ups and rounds until they get a chance to see the boss himself. His word is final though. You don't doubt he's included in all those decisions, but you can't imagine him dealing with every single interested party when it comes to new job positions.

You truly appreciate Hoseok's help. But you can't help but feel slightly embarrassed that he had to put effort in persuading his friend. You still have Mr. Jeon's face right in front of you. That one look that reminds you why you're there in the first place.

Your ego has to go. At least you have to push it to a certain level, so you won't get too discouraged. Again, you need this job and the money it offers. This is the only reason why you're walking inside the building, blending in with people you would never truly blend in. At least you don't believe that.

You're wearing the clothes Soyeon gave you. It's safe to say it's one of the reasons why you look like you're one of them. Well, you are for now. You can only hope you will when you hopefully sign the contract.

A card is given you at the reception, the kind woman informing you of its use as you simply just have to scan for entry. Not literally. It's just to log in your information to the database of when you're arriving and leaving. Everyone has one.

Glad for this new information, you scan the card in a nearby scanner before waiting for the elevator. You put it into the small and very inconspicuous pocket in your skirt. One thing you've got to say about the attire, is that it makes you confident. You already feel successful while wearing it, which is ridiculous and definitely sounds like it, but it feels like an honor to represent this company. Even on your way here, you noticed a few interested gazes aimed at you.

The material feels expensive, almost forbidden to wear in fear you would stain it somehow. Coming inside here again, you're a newbie regardless of how you feel outside of this tall and massive building.

As you come up to your floor, greeting who you could call some of your colleagues (despite there's no way you'll get familiar with all of them) Soyeon is not present at her front desk but you're guessing she must be somewhere around. Who you do find and spot coming out one of the rooms is Max. You halt a little, surprised by his sudden presence as he seems equally perplexed to see you. But the look is quickly wiped away as he shoots you a wide and friendly smile.

"Y/N, so you didn't give up." He tries to joke, clearly hinting at the fact that yes, you're still here. Even though you're not sure why he would think you wouldn't. God knows what they think of you or what information they have about you.

Unless Mr. Jeon is keen to gossip and open with his employees, there shouldn't be too much stuff that could reach their ears.

"No, not yet." You settle on a faint grin, keeping the joke afloat.

"I do like you, so I really hope you stick around."

"Oh, was that a compliment?" you laugh. He definitely knows how to make someone nervous.

He opens his mouth, a grin still attached to his lips but before he could make you even more assured than he already is (which is a total sarcasm on your part), someone comes out of the break room, interrupting the moment.

"Are you done flirting, Maximilian?" Saja, wearing the same attire as you, hair in a perfect sleek low bun, doesn't bother to show a hint of smile. "Our policy says there are no workplace relationships allowed." She reminds him, almost annoyingly which leaves you totally dumbfounded.

Glancing at Max, he seems just as dumbfounded because first of all, where's the flirting? Sure, Max is a little on the flirty side but you assume that's a part of his personality. Who knows, but still, such a bold assumption is not exactly appropriate.

But Max doesn't falter, he doesn't look embarrassed but the way he looks to his side where Saja's standing, he looks her up and down, almost in a bitter way.

"Is there a reason why you interrupted our flirting?" he asks instead, causing you to almost choke on your spit as you clear your throat and fail to hide the awkwardness you're currently and undoubtedly feeling.

She chuckles, not buying his attitude. "I need her to show her stuff. So please, take it somewhere else and preferably to someone else. But make sure Mr. Jeon doesn't know about it."

"You and your threats."

"The company's policy. Not threats." She corrects.

Are you interrupting something?

Max turns to you, rolling his eyes. "You know, friendliness is not against our policy."

"Explain it to Mr. Jeon, once he's the one who catches you."

"Catches doing exactly what? Talking to my new colleague? Please."

You purse your lips, shifting weight on your feet. This is really awkward.

"Max," she says his name, laughing almost bitterly as she shakes his head as if to call out his bullshit. He doesn't move though, lifting his brow. "I'm just informing you."

"I don't need you informing me. I'm very much familiar with our policy. Now, Y/N, it was lovely talking to you and I do hope we will talk in the future, preferably not getting caught by someone." he teases, grinning at you as your cheeks heathen up as you send him an unsure grin.

You murmur something in return, not even sure what comes out of your mouth as he shoots you one last smile before walking away. Saja stands there, raising her brow at you almost as if it's your turn to get scolded.

"I wasn't lying. Mr. Jeon does not allow any relationships. I'm sure it's in your contract."

The one that isn't signed yet though. You keep that to yourself.

First of all, you didn't even think about Max that way. Not unless she made it seem as if it's something bigger than it really was. Not aware of her true intentions, you don't even try thinking of it because it's pointless.

"Is there a reason why?" you ask instead, her brows shooting up in a silent surprise at your question instead.

"I'm pretty sure it's because it could potentially ruin the progress of working. Just measure to avoid any misunderstandings and problems. Most companies do that. At least the ones I worked at did."

"Max seems like a friendly person. I don't think he was flirting."

A little annoyed as she seems to look, perhaps it's the still ongoing topic that annoys her, she stays silent for a moment. You don't give her the time to respond though.

"It was nothing but a friendly conversation. Nothing to suspect or worry about."

The look on her face is worth your slightly passive-aggressive reaction as a grin threatens to make it to your lips. "Well, I advise you that."

"Thank you, I will take it to heart." you promise her, almost cackling when her expression drops and it turns more serious.

"Let's go to the office. I need to explain a few things before Mr. Jeon arrives." she grits through her teeth.

Despite the not so friendly exchange, a smile remains on your face as you slowly follow her to your office with slightly more confident steps.

During the ten minutes that are spent in the pleasant interior of your office, you deduce Saja is more informative and helpful than she was yesterday. Regardless of how quickly words spill out of her mouth to the point you think you might get a whiplash (again), you're trying to sink every information she has for you. She even made a few notes, point by point, that consists of basic information you'll need.

You appreciate the work she put into that, or that she took the time to write all of that, regardless of its length. With that being said and sent to your mail, she leaves you to do your job since the time is ticking and Mr. Jeon will be here any minute.

As explained and not forgotten, you make sure the cup in your hold and its content is the right one. Despite your boss' words of how he wants his employees well rested (though you're not sure if that's possible due to the amount of stress and work), you have barely slept well. Though, you hope the make-up you're wearing hides that tiny secret well.

You don't dare to judge. Everyone here seems to be working well, perhaps they don't experience as much stress like you do – obviously.

Coming inside his office after announcing yourself of course, you're not shocked at the lack of eye-contact and attention as you settle the cup down.

"I hope it's the right one." he says, something in his tone that you can't quite point out. Did he just make a joke? As many things here and in life generally, you don't dare to say and be sure. You don't know him and his personality is something you're still trying to figure out.

It's that moment and a few seconds of lingering silence that eventually causes him to pry his dark brown eyes off the laptop's screen, setting those distant and dark orbs on you. It's the clear quirk of his brow that brings you back into reality.

"Of course it is." It's funny how quickly you say it, with urgency as if you didn't get it wrong only yesterday. To your defense, it wasn't exactly your fault. Actually, it wasn't your fault at all. Saja made it and you just brought it to him.

It still bothers you that you're the one who messed up in his eyes. Or in anyone's for that matter. He watches you for a second, enough to make you nervous while you're inches from his desk and well, him. He does radiate dominance and coldness. It doesn't make sense that Hoseok is friends with him. He's a complete opposite.

As much as you're curious about the man in front of you, you prefer not to ask your friend too much about him and his life. One, it shouldn't interest you enough to want to know it. Second, Hoseok is a very good friend with him and not only that, they're some distant family. While Hoseok is your friend and the closest person you have in the country, he's not your best friend that could potentially spill you anything.

In other words, it wouldn't be exactly wise to try and pry. After all, your curiosity should go aside because this is your job. You shouldn't play with fire or dig into this and him. You won't risk that.

"I had your documents and papers prepared before you came in,"

Stupid. You inform him of something he clearly saw when he came in here.

"I hope everything's right."

"You hope?" he questions his brow in the same position that has been questioning you.

He leans back against his chair, elbow resting on the arm handle as he brushes his fingers over his chest. He doesn't pry his eyes off you.

"You really want this job, right?"

You open your mouth and give him a look, once you can't even define yourself but obviously almost spills out of it. He notices it, he surely does because the little twitch the corner of his mouth makes is enough proof of it.

"I want to do my job right, sir. I'm still new and I'm learning." you answer him, diplomatically with a hint of honesty and roughness that definitely doesn't go unnoticed by him.

Whatever argument he would have prepared, he decides to keep his mouth shut and just watches you with almost piqued interest. Or he's deep in thoughts, like you said, you can't quite figure him out.

"Learning is fine, but I hope you're aware you have to be quick at it. We don't have time for any slackers or slowness."

Well, damn. What encouraging words.

"I'm not a slacker and I hope I'm not slow either."

If he knew you even dreamed about this job, your first day haunting you even in your sleep.

"You do a lot of hoping."

"Sometimes it's the only thing we can do."

He stays silent for a moment, "I could argue with that," he protests but he says it with no remorse or anything negative. Just merrily points out. "I could also give you a few encouraging words, but I'm not sure what help would that make."

It would certainly make you not want to shit your pants in his presence, but you don't tell him that.

You're not here long enough, but you can't imagine him being all sweet and encouraging. It just doesn't suit him at the moment. You're aware of your judgment and assuming, so you stop and straighten yourself more.

"I need to see results, not give out hope."

That's a bit cold, but you offer him a short nod.

"Got it."

"Alright," he sighs, straightening himself that he's no longer in his leaned back comfortable position. "I need you to get a car ready for today's lunch. I have a meeting at that time and you're coming with me."

You nod, hiding your shock and maybe fear? Who knows.

"Any restaurant preference?"

"Italian. The one in the Four Seasons Hotel. Call them and reserve us a table. Just mention the name Jeon and they should confirm it."

"Got it, sir. I'll call them right away."

He nods, scooting closer to his desk, dismissing you with no other words needed.

Turns out, he has a driver for special occasions. Not sure if lunch with a business partner is a special occasion, but this time you meet Mr. Jeon in an underground garage. Not having the guts to ask if you're late, you keep your mouth shut and the two of you get inside the car.

You're sure you're not late, you were informed about the specific time when you delivered him the news of the successful reservation. Soyeon, whom you met during the day, has given you some details of how usually these meetings work and how you should prepare. Turns out, you're there to assist Mr. Jeon – schedule any possible future meetings and give him information about his schedule.

It's understandable that a man with so much work on his shoulders can't remember every single thing, just as much as he can't manage the little details. That's why he has an assistant, that's why you're going.

The reason for your presence there is no secret to you, and you knew that without Soyeon telling you. Still, you appreciate her trying to help.

The drive there is spent in silence, a little awkward you would say. One of Mr. Jeon's driver is an older man. Not too old though, maybe old enough to be your father but he seems nice and polite. You can't exactly tell when all you exchanged were greetings before you joined your boss in the backseat.

You also can't say it's the most comfortable ride. You mean... Mr. Jeon is sitting right next to you, even though there's a little space between you – it's still the closest you've been to him so far.

Man with such distance he seems to radiate, it feels odd to be so close to. He's a stranger, someone who literally has your destiny in the palm of his hands. Big hands at that.

Something you've noticed before but is clear now as well. You're purely judging the way his phone looks small in his hold. You don't dare to make it visible that you're silently side-eyeing the man. He's not exactly the type to break the awkward silence, but he seems to be too engrossed in his phone to maybe even notice. Or care.

The silent radio music is the only thing that prevents complete silence. And you find yourself staring from the window, your purse clutched to your side with the needed iPad in it.

It's when a rustling sound comes from the side, catching your attention as you watch Mr. Jeon tucks his phone back into his slacks pocket checking his surroundings out of the window.

"Mr. Liang owns an agency that represents people who would potentially want business investors to invest in them." Mr. Jeon suddenly says, breaking the silence with his smooth but deep voice.

The moment you both share a look, which is just simply looking into each other's eyes, you almost panic and look away. You hold the stare though, not wanting to get intimidated by the man's eyes or aura. He seems clueless about that, more notes the slight surprise or confusion on your face.

"It's not important information but you can't go there and be completely clueless." he explains, causing you to nod in understatement.

"I thought most business partners come straight to you." Meaning to his company and through their employees, they got to the boss – Mr. Jeon.

You're not ashamed to have a question, a meer curiosity coming to the surface. Mr. Jeon doesn't look bothered, which is a good sign.

"They do. But most people don't have the resources to do so. We're not a company you can just easily approach. We're talking about millions here, not a few bucks. So owners of agencies like Mr. Liang, they take care of all the important stuff. They take a share from the potential success, that is if I decide to invest in whatever they come up with."

"But they still pay for it, right? They have to be able to allow an agency to represent them."

"Of course. Nothing's for free, Miss Y/L/N," he answers, "If it's a beginner whose business is new, they usually take loans. They still need to pay."

You know how frustrating it feels not to have enough money to be able to go after your dreams. It's a sad reality. People have to take a risk to be able to go after them, most of the time to get into debts.

It's surely not something Mr. Jeon has ever gone through. You don't judge him. He had the luck to be born into a rich family, which doesn't always have to be positive. You're just comparing the two different worlds. Regardless of that and anything that's obvious, Mr. Jeon was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

You wonder if he can even empathize with the struggles these people, or any ordinary mortal is going through. Does he even realize how tough it is for some people? In a way, he's helping them by investing his money into their business but still. It's not for free. You've seen the numbers. He has a good share after that as well.

After all, he wouldn't invest if it caused him to lose the money. He needs a profit off the things he invests his money into. And from the looks of it, he's doing a fucking amazing job at it.

You arrive to the Four Seasons Hotel shortly after, Mr. Jeon dismisses his driver's attempt of opening the door for him. It's a little detail but you notice it nevertheless, focusing on yourself instead and trying not to trip in your heels.

Mr. Liang is already inside by the time you get greeted by the lovely staff. Their swift greetings aimed at the man beside you prove he is a regular here. That much was clear to you when he said to mention his name when you were about to make the reservation.

Just like the most business partners you had a chance to see, Mr. Liang is older than your boss for sure. He's in his mid fifties for sure, but his appearance screams important and business. You're purely judging it by his suit and overall vibe. For his age, Mr. Liang definitely takes good care of himself.

He's either surprised Mr. Jeon hasn't come alone or because he sees a new face. But judging from the information you've received, you would say it's the second option. You're right because seconds after and after the two men bow at each other, he looks at you.

"New assistant?" he questions with a smile, outstretching his hand for you to shake.

You politely take it, bowing to him. Mr. Jeon watches the interaction, sitting down as he adjusts his suit. "We'll see."

Is all he says, your frown wanting to come to the surface but you surpass it. It's awkward and perhaps quite embarrassing to hear him saying that in front of a stranger. Mr. Liang seems to be a little taken back, but for whatever reason (or his own sake) he does not ask any further questions.

They start chit-chatting when menu orders are given to you. You stay quiet, pulling out the iPad from your purse to prepare. Drinks are ordered and you stick to the soda, even though it's nothing like you. It's not like you should care about the bill, one of those two surely pays but still. It's a safe choice.

"I'll come back to take your meal order." The waiter says, bowing to everyone at the table before he retrieves back.

The man starts picking their food, silently flicking through the menu. "Order something too."

Mr. Jeon speaks beside you, not lifting up his gaze as he still scans the item in his hands.

"This should be your lunch break, Miss Y/L/N," he reminds you.

You notice Mr. Liang lifts his eyes to watch you two but his lips stay sealed shut.

"So order something and eat."

Well, how were you supposed to know that? At least he informed you and spared you the embarrassment of having to spend this meeting with an almost empty stomach. It's a bare minimum but regardless of that, this is still work. You're working during your lunch break. So it is touching that he wants you to eat and not starve.

That would be a really asshole move, considering they're about to have lunch during this.

"Okay." you almost whisper, looking at Mr. Liang as you send him a tiny smile. He reciprocates it and luckily, gives you no attention.

After you order the food, the two business men go straight to work. You assistate, jumping in whenever you're needed and after tasting delicious Italian food, you feel better about the entire meeting. Everything runs smoothly and even though it's hard to detect any positive emotions on Mr. Jeon's face, he seems to be pleased enough with the outcome.

Surely, you can't be a good judge of this, but considering this is your second day properly working in this company, you're proud of yourself because you knew everything. You haven't done anything ridiculously hard, mainly gave information of Mr. Jeon's schedule and did research when he asked you to, but still. You're proud of yourself.

There was not a moment where you were lost and that's a win. Especially in the presence of the boss himself.

When you get back, Mr. Jeon retrieves back to his office, informing you he doesn't want to be disturbed and all calls should be handled by you or anyone else. You nod at that, bowing at him one last time before you separate your ways.

"How was it going?" Soyeon asks once she spots you walking by her desk, her eyes sparking with hidden interest and curiosity.

How was it going? You ask yourself. Releasing the breath, a content smile makes it up on your face. "It went actually well."

Soyeon's brows lift up as if she expected something else, though it's quickly wiped away as she gives you a cheerful smile and thumbs up.

You're ready to walk away but you halt in your steps. "Mr. Jeon does not want to be disturbed." you inform her.

The entire moment is professional, bringing something joyful to the hopeless situation you're in. You're merely informative, making sure Mr. Jeon's orders don't go ignored. Soyeon nods, watching you the entire time you walk to your office.

You sit in your chair, leaning back as you stare at the ceiling, giggling to yourself. The joyful moment doesn't last long though, the phone ringing loudly brings you back to reality and reminds you that nothing is won yet.

But it's on a good path and that's exactly what you let remind yourself for the rest of the day.

"Is your boss hot?"

The second day at your work has ended successfully and so far, Mr. Jeon hasn't come to find you and deliver bad news. That's enough to celebrate and perhaps open a bottle of wine to celebrate, but you simply cannot. You can't risk a headache or potential hangover.

Since living overseas can be lonely and the last thing you want is to bother Hoseok. He has his own job and can't hang out with you whenever you feel like it. Therefore, you didn't consider inviting him over because there's no need to.

And FaceTiming with your older sister is just enough. It's what you used to do most of the time when you were back home.

She moved out to Spain at the age of twenty-two which is sooner than you. For you, it was difficult to leave home and everyone there. For her, not as much. She has always been more adventurous and braver when it came to stuff like this. That's why it was such a surprise you decided to move here. Well, you did talk about wanting to come here but it was mostly fantasy talk.

She surely didn't take you seriously, knowing you wouldn't just pack your things and leave. However, you've met Hoseok and if it weren't for him, you wouldn't have the guts to leave.

"What? You did say he's young." she elaborates, shrugging at the raised brow you're showing her.

"So he's gotta be hot as well?"

If it were for you, that's exactly how you would describe your boss. Which by the way, seems very inappropriate and you almost get embarrassed for thinking it. It feels weird to be talking about it openly, even if it's your sister.

She visibly shrugs, propping her chin on her palm. "He's young and successful. It would be a shame if he wasn't hot, just saying."

"He's decent," you hum instead, not giving the pleasure to unknowing Mr. Jeon that yes, he is hot indeed. The fucker knows it anyway for sure. "I'm more concerned about his personality. He's very firm."

You elaborate more, explain her everything from beginning in more details since messages do not give it justice. She's no stranger to your situation.

"Well, thank god for your friend then," she says after you tell her about the interactions you've experienced with your boss. "And you don't have to work for him forever, right? You just gotta stay there for a while and then you could find something different."

"Whatever that's gonna be, I feel like it's not gonna be anything better."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Because his company is one of the best known in South Korea. He's a millionaire."

"Maybe you could work for another millionaire then." she jokes, earning another glare from you.

"It's not that simple."

"Hm," she hums, popping a piece of chocolate into her mouth. "Is he like, super famous? I could google him. What was his name?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "He's known but he's private. People tend to put their interest and attention on idols and actors, actresses. Not millionaire heirs."

"You know what you should do?"

"What?" you deadpan, knowing one of her brilliant ideas are about to come out.

"You should make more friends. You never know. They might help you in the future, in any field."

That's not exactly a bad idea, you know what she means.

"I'm not gonna make friends just so they could help me when I need them." you point out.

"That's now what I meant," she argues, "Not in that way. But it's not bad to know more people. You gotta understand you don't have your family there, Y/N."

"I know that." you mutter, rubbing your forehead as you make yourself more comfortable in your bed.

"Just think about it."

"Yeah, yeah." you wave the topic off. "I'm ready to make more friends. But currently, there aren't many opportunities to do so."

"What about your co-workers?"

"Right," You press your lips together. "They're all... I don't know, some of them are very welcoming and obviously, the company is large so I don't know everyone. I don't think it's even possible. But some of them are really serious. I don't know how to explain it."

"Maybe it's a cultural thing?" she questions.

"They're just very skilled in everything and I'm a newbie." You're reminded of Max's words. He calls you a newbie.

"It will get better, I'm sure."

You're not sure about that, but you nod and end the topic there. You catch up over other stuff, mainly your sister talking about the reconstruction of her and her boyfriend's bathroom. Once a set of yawns keep coming in the midst of your call, you decide to end it there.

Making sure your alarm is set, even though it's automatic by now, it takes you a minute to stare at the ceiling before darkness swallows you whole.

This time more confident to meet Mr. Jeon's orders and deep eyes that follow you into your dreams.

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook fanfic #bts au #ceo!jungkook #personasintro

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dottores · 9 months

Text

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, dottore.

notes: wooooooo this is the start of the heavy plot and finallyyyyy getting into their relationship 😎 it’s gonna be spiral from here on out.

GENESIS

“Don’t you have better things to do than bother me.” You frowned deeply, eyes squinted as you stared at the figure who had cornered you at the women's washroom. “You go from wanting nothing to do with me, to not even letting me freshen up in peace.”

“Alas, you’ve become my job because of your reckless actions,” Dottore said, unperturbed. “I assure you, I enjoy this no more than you do.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” you replied dryly.

The empty smile that painted Dottore’s lips was now edged with a line of cruelty—he was absolutely enjoying this.

“You should be grateful,” he began, and you had a sudden feeling that you weren’t going to like what he was about to say next, “the attention you so desperately craved is finally being given to you.”

You stared at him, a turmoil of emotions eating at your insides, the most prominent of which being outrage but you forced your face to remain cold, as if you were simply dealing with one of the nasty noble kids who liked to poke fun at your lack of a soulmate.

“You will find that the attention I ‘so desperately craved’ was received elsewhere,” you responded, watching the corner of his lips tighten at your words. Digging the knife in deeper even though you probably should have left it, you continued with: “I have as much desire for your attention as I do for a bug’s.”

“Elsewhere as in that lowly aristocrat you attended our event with?” he asked, faux-curiosity dripping from his tone but you knew better. His smile promised bloodshed and violence and you were not going to throw Artem to the wolves.

“Not quite,” you said. “He still lives back in Fontaine, Artem was just a means to an end.”

Sorry, Wrio.

“Is Artem aware of that?” Dottore asked coolly—he didn’t believe you, that was unfortunate.

You’d somehow have to warn Artem to keep an eye out but you weren’t sure if you would get the chance. Moreso, you didn’t even know if it would matter. You had a feeling that even if you did warn Artem, it would do him no good. He wouldn’t be able to protect himself from the Second Harbinger.

“Careful, Doctor,” you chided. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous. It’s an unflattering look on you.”

“Jealousy implicates caring,” Dottore didn’t hesitate to counter, lips flat and unamused, “and I do promise you that the only thing I care about is making sure you don’t get in the way of my research. Or have the past two decades of neglect not made that clear enough for you.”

You stared at him, tongue kissing the back of your teeth as you forced back another snide comment—you thought you might be testing his patience a bit too much. The hint of amusement that had crept onto his lips was long gone, replaced by an unnerving emptiness. You hadn’t noticed how close the two of you were standing, your back flush to the wall and his body mere inches from yours, head tilted down as he spoke to you.

Suddenly, the thin barrier of air between the two of you felt all the more hot. There was no way for you to slip away back to the event where you thought you might be a hint safer with all of the aristocrats’ eyes bearing witness. Worse, you didn’t even know if you wanted him to move away but you knew that you had to make him for the sake of your mission.

A shot in the dark to try to force him to take a step back, you leaned up on your toes, bringing your face closer to his. You couldn’t see his eyes beneath his mask but you imagined that you could, catching a glimmer of red as you moved in close. Your lips brushed his as you said: “I don’t think I am the one unclear about anything right now… are you?”

He stepped away.

You smiled thinly, raising your chin.

“No,” he said icily, “I am not.”

“Of course not,” you said, swiftly moving away but before you could even reach an arm’s length distance, gloved fingers curled around your wrist.

“Where are you going?” Dottore asked, you hated how he suddenly sounded amused because you knew it meant nothing good for you.

“Back to the event before my date and his family start worrying about my absence,” you said, trying to ignore how the pads of his fingers trailed across your inner wrist—you didn’t even think he noticed the instinctual motion, much less how it was throwing you off.

“I’m afraid they’ll have to continue worrying about your absence,” Dottore drawled, grip on your wrist strong and unwavering.

“And why is that?” you asked through grit teeth.

You didn’t like where this was going, you felt like a cornered animal.

“Because you will not be returning to the event, the Tsaritsa has so graciously offered you a stay in Zapolyarny Palace,” Dottore said easily as if he had not just handed you a death sentence and ripped away your dreams of avenging your father all in one. “You should be honored, not many are given such an opportunity.”

You stared at him, expression void of the turbulent emotions rushing through you. You didn’t have to be a genius to know what this meant: they were making you a political prisoner. This was a mistake. You should have seen this coming. You thought that the worst that could happen was that they would kill you, you hadn’t even considered that they could use you against your nation, your family. You despised your stepfather but he would not be the one affected by this: your mother, your half-siblings, your grandfather, Wrio and his father, they would be the ones bearing the burden of the consequences of your actions.

For all of the anger and sadness and hurt you had felt because of your soulmate, you had never hated him until now.

“Are you kidding?” you asked quietly, with at least enough control over your voice for it to not crack as you spoke. You refused to allow yourself to be humiliated because of him.

“Unfortunately, I am entirely serious,” Dottore said but he didn’t sound as if any of this was unfortunate. You thought he might even be pleased if you could catch a glimpse of his eyes beneath his mask. “Don’t look at me like that, you put yourself in this position by coming here. You must’ve known that this was a possibility.”

You didn’t respond, staring at him—speechless for the first time in a long time.

“Unless you didn’t.” He clicked his tongue as if disappointed in you. “One of my colleagues will be watching over you during your stay here. I urge you to lose your attitude with him, and with the rest, should you encounter them. You’ll find that they are not quite as patient as I am.”

“What?” you demanded, your body suddenly felt cold and your anxiety skyrocketed as if this couldn’t get any worse. “Why not you?”

“Careful,” he mocked the same tone you took on him earlier. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re desiring my attention again. It’s an unflattering look on you.”

You scoffed. “It has nothing to do with desiring your attention as it does with fearing for my life. There you go with the self-importance again. Why not you?”

“You being here has opened up a weakness that I cannot afford for the others to learn about lest they take advantage of it,” Dottore said dismissively. “I will be limiting any and all contact with you for both of our sakes’.”

“And he won’t take advantage of it?” you pressed, you could feel the panic creeping in.

Who was he passing you off to?

Wasn’t it more of a risk to pass you off to someone else than to just keep you at his side?

“Oh, he will,” Dottore answered. “Just not in the same way the others would.”

Somehow, that wasn’t reassuring at all.

You felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to cry but you refused to let the tears fall. You had never felt so helpless before. You wanted to go home—you were in over your head, flailing in open water trying to find a buoy before the currents dragged you under and the one person in the world that was supposed to be a lifeline for you was standing on a boat watching you drown.

“I suppose that’s my cue,” an unfamiliar voice spoke, amused. Your gaze turned down the hall, eyes falling upon a dark-haired man dressed in black, gloved fingers intertwined in front of him as he walked closer to the two of you. “She’s quite the little spitfire, isn’t she?”

Had he been there the whole time? How had you not noticed? Were you that absorbed in your conversation with Dottore that it blinded you to your surroundings? You were usually good at picking up presences—an asset that came along with your family’s passed down hydro art.

“She will behave for you,” Dottore talked about you as if you weren’t there, but his voice was low in warning and you knew that was directed toward you.

The man hummed, as if not entirely pleased with that statement before he focused his attention on you, eyes upturned and an unfriendly smile painted on his face. “The Regrator, Ninth of the Fatui Harbingers. I will be supervising you during your stay here. I do hope you prove yourself to be useful.”

The final statement sounded more like a threat than an off-handed comment.

An anchor attached itself to your ankle, dragging you down.

Your soulmate watched as you sank in murky waters.

For some reason, Dottore just couldn’t seem to get his head on straight.

As he made his way down to the small lab he had set up in Zapolyanry Palace, all he could think about was the expression on your face as he handed you off to Pantalone. You looked at him as if he had just physically signed your death sentence—you clearly weren’t stupid, you had to know that Dottore wouldn’t do anything that he thought would put your life at risk, so he wasn’t understanding why you had looked at him like that and he didn’t like it.

He tried to focus on getting back down to the lab—Theta was down there and Dottore was sure that the segment made a mess of the experiment he had been running but he couldn’t even muster any irritation, much less anger. He could only manage a vague sense of bewilderment as he made his way down the dark halls of the palace.

You couldn’t have been that angry that he wasn’t going to be the one looking over you. You didn’t even want anything to do with him anyway, you made that very clear. It was the best course of action for the two of you—the easiest way to make sure that the bond didn’t affect either of you more than it already had. Once he figured out what you meant by ‘the Hydro Archon isn’t the only god blind to threats’, he’d get you whatever evidence you needed and send you on your way back down to Fontaine.

And then he’d never have to see you again and the two of you could go on with your lives as if this never happened.

The thought of that left him unsatisfied and again, the bewilderment that was fogging his head grew. Why did that leave him unsatisfied? It was what he wanted. He didn’t want you around dragging him down and distracting him. The Fatui was going into the most critical few years of its existence, he needed to be able to put all of his attention on his research so then why…

“I don’t think I am the one unclear about anything right now… are you?”

Dottore exhaled as your words crossed through his head again, as his lips tingled at the reminder of the feeling of yours brushing his. He knew you had done it to get him to back up, he had known what you were doing as you did it and yet, it had still caught him off guard and he wasn’t used to being caught off guard.

Was he the one unclear? Dottore didn’t think so—in fact, he thought he was perfectly clear with his expectations and needs, or lack thereof, that is. But the more he thought back to your words, your expression when you left with Pantalone, the feeling of you close to him, the more he hesitated and hesitation simply was not acceptable.

Getting to the bottom of the steps to the lowest floor of the palace, Dottore’s eyes narrowed beneath his mask as a burning smell hit his nose coming from the direction of the metal door of his lab.

Theta, Dottore thought, livid.

All thoughts of you swept away as he stalked the rest of the way down the hall, strides long and purposeful before he threw open the door and slammed it shut behind him. The Theta segment’s head snapped up, eyes wide like a caught deer. In his hands was one of the vials that Dottore had been studying for residue energy of the old gods, the vial burned and blackened at the bottom, creeping up to the top—a putrid scent of rot and fire filling the room.

“What did you do?” Dottore demanded.

Theta put the vial down, backing up a few steps. “It was burning when I got here,” was all he said in response. “You must’ve left it on.”

“Liar,” Dottore spat out, temper already having thinned from you having worn it down during both conversations he had with you and on top of that, his own confusion about you. He hated feeling as if he didn’t have complete autonomy over himself and your arrival in Snehznaya had absolutely destroyed any sense of control he might’ve had, questioning everything he thought he knew as true.

Reaching forward, he snatched the vial from Theta’s hands, it burned the pads of his fingers but he didn’t let it bother him, peeking inside to see if there was anything to salvage only to find all of the remains he had gotten his hands on lost.

Dottore shut his eyes, taking a deep breath in as he tried to calm himself down, convincing himself that deactivating Theta would do more harm than help. He didn’t have the materials to make a new segment and he needed all hands on deck for the upcoming project, including hands as disastrous as Theta’s.

“I specifically told you not to touch anything,” Dottore said tightly, tossing the ruined vial into the waste bin before directing a cold gaze onto Theta.

Theta didn’t respond, staring at Dottore in a way akin to how a lesser predator would in front of a greater one—trying to decide whether or not it should fight back or flee. After a few moments of tension, Theta ultimately made his decision, raising his chin. “What happened upstairs?”

Dottore raised his eyebrows beneath his mask. “Excuse me?” he asked, devoid of emotion as his mind raced.

Could they feel that he had met you?

That would spell more trouble than Dottore was willing to deal with. What awful timing, he thought bitterly. Of course, you show up during the few weeks he had all of the segments returning to the north for briefings before the Fatui finally began to set out on achieving their ultimate goal: obtaining the gnoses and bringing down Celestia.

Epsilon and the younger segments had already been in the north—they were still at the estate a few miles west of the palace. Delta had dropped off the Iota segment the other day so he could join Rho in tracking down the rogue belligerent in the east but they were making their way back to the estate, albeit slowly. Zeta should’ve arrived at the estate at some point tonight and Lambda would be arriving any day now.

Dottore suddenly had a headache, trying to figure out what to do. He did not feel comfortable enough to leave you at Zapolyarny Palace alone with Pantalone but if he stayed, the segments would get suspicious and start showing up to snoop around, and if he told one of them that you were here to send them to watch over you, he knew damn well that the rest would know in a matter of hours. He’d either be facing a noose or a sword—either way, his ultimate fate would remain the same: the segments would know.

“What happened up there?” Theta asked again, more intensely this time. “We could all feel it. It was strange. I don’t know how to describe it. What was it?”

Briefly, Dottore reconsidered deactivation as he stared at the younger version of himself, who was getting more and more impatient as each second without a response passed. He could see the way his fingers were twitching and the way he was shifting on his face, it was only a matter of time before he started getting more aggressive. He thought maybe he should let it get that far, that way he can just kick Theta out of the lab and go back to working—or more importantly, go back to figuring out what he was supposed to do about you.

“What was it?” Theta demanded and then Dottore watched his eyes widen through the holes of his mask. “Was it h-”

He never got the chance to finish the question. The doors to his lab slammed open and Dottore had never been so grateful before to see Epsilon… until he noticed the panicked expression on his face and the way the Gamma segment was half-hiding behind him, hands shaking and lips pressed together tight. He wouldn’t even look Dottore’s way, gaze directed on the floor between them.

“You’re supposed to be back at the estate,” Dottore said firmly, a foreboding feeling weighing on his chest as he stared at the Epsilon segment.

“The Iota segment never came back from exploring the estate grounds,” Epsilon said, voice steady. Behind him, Gamma took in a shaky breath, turning away. “Kappa slipped away while we were trying to find you.”

“You’re much quieter now,” Pantalone noted as he led you deeper into the palace, down dark, twisting and winding halls that you desperately tried to keep track of but it was like a damn maze. You thought you might never be able to navigate them on your own. “You had quite the mouth with the Doctor. I’ve never seen someone speak so scathingly with him and live to tell the tale.”

You didn’t acknowledge his comment, eyes tracing the portraits hung up along the walls—lined with gilded garnishes and decorated with a soft glow emanating from the moon outside. You wondered if it was by chance that the shadows cast over the portraits seemed to highlight some of the paintings' more distinct details or if it was a specific design choice.

You remembered Pantalone mentioning that this was his wing of the palace and somehow you doubted that anything this man did was by chance, even something as meager as making sure paintings were positioned appropriately for the best aesthetic. You let out a breath, looking back out toward the window—toward freedom. It was dark out now and clouds were rolling in swiftly over the moon, smothering the little natural light, a storm was coming, metaphorically and literally.

Even if you did get the chance to escape, which you doubted would even arise to begin with, all you would be doing is walking to your death. You’d freeze in the winter storms of Snezhnaya, you doubt you’d even make it to the line of trees half of a mile away from the palace.

Dully, you wondered if that would be a better fate than this.

“Oh?” Pantalone continued when you didn’t respond to him. “Is your cruelty reserved only for him? What a shame, I wanted a taste of that sharp tongue of yours.”

You bit back a scoff, staring straight ahead as you continued forward, ignoring the way his violet eyes laid heavily on you, waiting to see how you responded to each of his digs. He was testing you. For what? You didn’t know and you didn’t like that. You were having trouble reading the Regrator and reading people was one of the few things you could actually pride yourself on.

You spent more than a decade of your life sitting in the back of the courtroom, watching proceedings and watching people because you figured that the better you were able to read people’s emotions and predict their answers and response, the better able you would be to hide your soulmate from those that liked to pry.

Pantalone was an anomaly. Draped in the finest of Liyuean silks and donning the most expensive gems from the northernmost mines of Snezhnaya, a Harbinger and one of the wealthiest men in Teyvat, you expected that the man was well-respected, especially in his own nation… but you had seen the way that the Snezhnayan aristocrats looked at him.

Where they looked at the other Harbingers with anxiety and fear, they looked at the Regrator with nothing less than derision, whispering to each other and ridiculing him behind his back. You had meant to ask Artem why that was the case but you had never gotten the chance because someone decided to interrupt the two of you.

So why? Why do they look at a man who had made Snezhnaya prosper with such mockery? The nation had been fumbling before his promotion—a powerful military, yes, but a powerful military meant little politically when they were in constant economic recession. They had gone from being the poorest nation in Teyvat to the second wealthiest, just below Liyue itself; they had gone from having no international political sway to having several nations in the palm of their hand.

So why?

Your mind raced, finally looking at Pantalone from the corner of your eye. He held his chin high as he walked but there was a stiffness in his shoulders that didn’t match the otherwise lackadaisical confidence. His skin was borderline gaunt—you barely noticed it, it was clearly getting healthier but there was still an underlying haggard look that seemed inherent now, as if he had suffered years of sickness or starvation and no matter how hard he tried to rectify it, the damage had already been done.

Aristocrats were a very predictable bunch. They found commonality with those that were similar to them and they found joy in deriding those that tried to be similar to them. You had seen it many times in the Fontaine courts, particularly when the nouveau riche families tried to find places with the old-blooded aristocrats. They could sniff who was their own and who was not like wolves sniffing out their prey.

The Regrator was not a born aristocrat.

“I can see the gears turning,” Pantalone murmured. “Tell me, what conclusion have you come to, little spitfire?”

You looked at him, studying him for a moment before saying: “You weren’t born an aristocrat.”

Pantalone smiled, as if whatever answer he had been looking for was answered. “You lot really can pick out a needle in a haystack.”

You hummed, “It’s not hard when the needle is bright red when the rest are silver.”

Pantalone raised his eyebrows, curious, “It’s that obvious?”

“If you’re looking for it,” you explained. “Aristocrats are always looking for it.”

“I was an orphan,” Pantalone said, leading you further down the halls. You had given up on trying to keep track of the twists and turns. “I lived on the streets for two decades.”

“And yet here you are,” you responded.

The richest man on the continent, a Harbinger, the reason for an entire nation’s economic boom.

“And yet here I am,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, it’s not enough for some people, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“Yes,” you said dryly, “and I’m sure you’ll make them eat their words eventually.”

Pantalone let out a huff of laughter, drawing to a stop outside of a dark door. You came to a stop next to him, eyes meeting his as he watched you carefully.

“Naturally,” he acknowledged but now there was a darker edge to his voice, a vein of poison seeping into his tone. “You will be staying here, I will be right across the hall. If you need anything, just knock.”

If you try anything, I’ll be there to stop you, you translated silently, catching the cold look in his eyes even as he smiled thinly at you. You gave him a smile that was just as void of kindness, pushing open the door to step into the room you would be staying in.

Vast and well-decorated, your eyes traced the span of the room from the large bed against the wall to the dressers that you wouldn’t be able to fill because the little clothes you brought to Snezhnaya were back at the inn that you had been staying at. There was a fireplace on the wall opposite of the bed and wide windows that rattled against the winds of the incoming storm.

“I’ll be sure to send some of my subordinates out to fetch you some more outfits,” Pantalone offered but his offer was not made from generosity. The heartless, underlying meaning of his words struck deep: you are not leaving any time soon. “I believe we’re going to get along very well with each other.”

“You… were supposed to be watching the younger segments, Epsilon,” Dottore said, now sitting at his lab table as he tried to keep himself calm, voice tight and teeth grinding.

Every time he thought things couldn’t get worse, somehow they did. It was almost comical at this point how blatantly the Celestial gods seemed to have it out for him, using his life and misery as some twisted game of entertainment for them to watch.

“I’d like to see you try to handle all three of the younger segments at once,” Epsilon responded, voice somehow calm and snide at the same time. “… I nearly forgot, you couldn’t even handle one young segment, could you?”

Dottore’s gaze snapped toward Epsilon, rising to his feet in an instant. “What did you just say?” he asked lowly—he had dealt with enough insolence the past few years from his segments, and with you here now too, there was only so much left he could handle before he snapped.

Epsilon smiled casually. “My apologies,” he said, faux-remorse dripping from his tone. “I forgot the Beta segment is still a sore subject for you. I wasn’t thinking. Forgive me.”

Except the Epsilon segment did not forget anything and he, more than any other segment, always thought before he spoke. Every word he spoke was carefully chosen and articulated, each one with a meaning of its own that sometimes even Dottore couldn’t follow along with.

He thought when making the Epsilon segment that he would be the easiest segment to deal with—empathetic and sentimental. But somehow, he became the most manipulative and cruel of all of the older segments, giving kind smiles all the while speaking words that ripped into each individual segments’ insecurities.

He and the Delta segment in particular tended to be at odds the most. Delta was one of the easiest segments to set off and for some reason, Epsilon rose to Theta’s defense frequently—be it solely for the reason of getting under Delta’s skin or him actually sympathizing with the destructive and volatile segment, Dottore didn’t know or care. What he cared about was the fact that it led to him and Delta clashing nearly every time they were in the same room as each other; Delta getting loud and violent while Epsilon just stood there with amused smiles and quiet, antagonizing comments.

The next week would be exhausting with the three of them all in the estate together. And now with you—he cut off his thoughts abruptly, only getting more irritated. You just had to make everything more complicated. He had to focus on finding the younger segments before he allowed his mind to inevitably drift back off to you.

“Where was he last seen?” Dottore asked, the pads of his fingers pressing hard into the metal of his lab table as he awaited a response from the segment.

“He was searching the ruins to the east of the estate,” Epsilon said. “He’s been there and back tons of times, I figured he would be okay on his own while I finished up what you asked of me.”

“You figured wrong,” Dottore said immediately, voice curt and icy. “He couldn’t have gotten too far. He gets distracted easily. He has to be somewhere between the palace and the estate. I can track a general location.”

“I’ll come with you,” Epsilon offered. “We’ll cover ground faster together.”

Dottore stared at him for a moment, studying him irritably. He hadn’t forgotten the snide comment the segment had shot his way—he wondered if this was his attempt at an actual apology or if he had some ulterior motives.

He nearly scoffed, knowing the answer instantly: Epsilon always had ulterior motives.

“Theta,” Dottore said coldly, gaze cutting to the side toward the other segment. Theta went stiff at the acknowledgment, waiting for him to continue. “You are to find Kappa. This is your chance to prove you are more useful active than destroyed. Do not fail.”

Theta’s lips pressed together tight, twitching as if he wanted to say something but decided against it. He nodded shortly after a moment and then looked away.

“What about me?” Gamma asked suddenly. “What do you want me to do?”

Dottore stared at him a moment. He would do more harm than help with him and Epsilon out looking for Iota—the last thing he needed was having to worry about another one of the younger segments getting lost while searching for Iota.

“Stay with Theta, help find Kappa,” Dottore finally said. “There are a lot of people in the palace for the promotion of the Eleventh. Many of whom would hurt him or use him as a weakness to try to get to me. Find him before they do.”

Gamma nodded but swallowed thickly, nervous at the mention of all of the people in the palace for the event. Usually, the attendees all tended to stick to the ballroom during the course of the event but toward the end, some of their bolder enemies meandered down the halls of the palace in hopes of a chance just like the one Kappa wandering off presented.

He needed to be found before that could happen.

His gaze drifted off to one of the thin, high windows in his lab as Theta and Gamma set off to look for Kappa. A familiar, foreboding feeling settled in his stomach when he noticed a storm rolling in over the mountains in the distance.

“Are you ready?” Epsilon asked, tightening the drawstrings of his cloak as he prepared to go back out into the cold.

Dottore nodded, reaching for his own hanging up on the hook near the door. “Let’s go.”

It took about forty minutes of just sitting around the room with nothing to do for you to leave it. He hadn’t locked the door on his way out and he hadn’t told you to not leave the room, so you assumed that you had some semblance of freedom.

Realistically, a part of you figured that this might be what Pantalone wanted—he wanted you to leave the room and do something suspicious so he could interrogate you, but in your defense, you didn’t have anything malicious or suspicious planned. You just wanted to go up and down the hall to get a sense of where you were.

You hesitated as your hand wrapped around the handle of the door, heart beating rapidly inside your chest, an irrational fear of being attacked as soon as you stepped outside of the room sweeping through you. Logically, you knew it wasn’t going to happen. There was no way that Dottore would hand you off to someone that would put you in a position where you could get hurt, or worse—for his own sake, if not yours.

With that thought in mind, you pushed the door open, breath catching as you peeked your head out to look around.

No one.

The hall was dark, only dimly lit by a few candles in the distance. There was not a soul in sight and the only other door besides yours was on the opposite wall of the hall—you assumed that was Pantalone’s room, he had said he would be nearby. You could see a faint light emanating from beneath the door, so as quiet as possible, you slipped out of your room, shutting the door behind you gently.

Looking up and down the hall, you decided to go to the right first. You wouldn’t be out for long—you just wanted to see what the wing of the palace you were staying in looked like, you didn’t like living somewhere where you didn’t even have a layout of the area. It made you feel helpless and trapped.

Exhaling deeply, you kept your eyes peeled and your attention focused as you made your way down the hall, trying to ignore the creepy, expensive portraits that lined the walls—you swore that their eyes followed you as you walked by.

The further you walked, the more anxious you got. It was a cold, creeping feeling that made you feel as if someone was watching you. Each little alcove that was built into the wall suddenly looked as if it was housing enemies, you thought the shadows seemed to be moving.

Just as you were about to abandon your mission and run back to your room, unable to handle the fight or flight feeling rising to your chest, you caught a flash of red from one of the smaller alcoves. Your head snapped to the side, peering through the darkness to try to figure out what you had just seen—your heart leapt to your throat when a pair of red eyes stared back at you. On instinct, your vision reacted to your shock and anxiety, buzzing against your skin.

But the red eyes widened in surprise, fear, seemingly trying to press back against the wall but unable to move any further inward. It was only then that you realized how the pair of eyes were rather low to the ground—at the height of a child’s.

“Come out,” you said quietly, kneeling down to the ground to try to make the kid feel more comfortable.

After a few moments of silence, the figure drew out from the shadows, shoulders tense and hands locked in front of his body. He was young, looked only around five or six at most with tussled, silvery blue hair and trembling lips. He seemed nervous, borderline terrified, his fingers were shaking where he was holding them in front of him.

It was then that you realized just how similar he looked to Dottore. The hair was styled differently but the same color and you remembered the glimmer of red you had caught beneath his mask when you had leaned in close. You stared at the kid, at a loss for words.

Did he have a child? It didn’t make sense. Dottore didn’t seem like the type of person to have a lover, much less kids. You’d like to think you had a decent idea of him considering you spent over fifteen years feeling his emotions and ten receiving random words from his train of thought. Shouldn’t you have realized at some point that he had someone else? Was that why he was constantly ignoring you?

A familiar, ugly feeling stirred in your chest. Jealousy. You thought back to the snide comment you had made to him earlier, unsure if you wanted to laugh or cry at the irony of it.

The thoughts raced through your head, rampant and damning, were you about to be like your stepfather? Intruding on a pre-existing relationship because you happened upon your soulmate. You felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to throw up, but the longer you stayed there without speaking, the more uncomfortable the child looked, refusing to meet your gaze and shifting on his feet anxiously.

He was lost, that was clear enough from his body language and demeanor so you held your hand out to him. You figured that Dottore would come looking for him eventually, or someone would at least, and you thought he shouldn’t be wandering around the halls when there were still so many people in the palace. You could still hear the music and chatter in the distance.

“Come here,” you said softly, holding your hand out toward him. You watched as he stared at your hand curiously, an odd expression on his face, but he didn’t say anything as he moved closer to you. Your brows shot up when you noticed he was limping, gaze dropping down to the blood staining his pants. “What happened?”

He didn’t answer, which you should have expected, the kid seemed shy and anxious. Instead, as soon as he got close enough to you, you lifted him up to sit him on your hip as you rose to your feet. The child let out a surprised noise, fisting at your top when he realized that his feet were no longer touching the ground.

“You shouldn’t be walking on that,” you told him. “I’ll bring you back to my room to check your leg. The Doctor will come for you soon enough.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, you couldn’t help the way your heart squeezed as he relaxed into your arms, resting his head on your shoulder. You could feel his eyes fluttering shut, lashes brushing your neck as they drooped. Instinctually, you hummed softly, one hand rubbing circles between his shoulders as you made your way back to your room, trying to sort through all of your racing thoughts as he fell asleep against you.

Was it his son? It had to be unless the kid was some weird scientific experiment… which you supposed was also possible. You sighed heavily, making it half of the way down the hall back to your room when you caught sight of two figures standing at the end of it—you couldn’t make out their faces, it was too dark, but you could see their forms dimly illuminated by the moon glowing high in the sky.

Instantly, something didn’t sit right in your stomach about it, alarm bells ringing through your head, echoing as one of them stepped closer.

You stepped back, grip tightening on the boy. He stirred a bit, confused, but you kept your attention focused on the two new arrivals.

“Hand the boy over.”

RBS APPRECIATED

#dottore x reader #dottore smut #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you

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taurussbabe · 1 year

Note

Heyyy i saw ur taking request for the song related fics and i have to say the 2 fics u wrote were absolutely amazing!!!

Can u write smth related to the song 'all of the girls you loved before' by taylor swift

'Pretty please' by dua lipa

All of the girls you loved before

a/n: Thank you so much for this request, absolutely loved it. Hope you like it anon!! word count: 1.1k

Cryin' in the bathroom for some dude Whose name I cannot remember now (ooh) Secret jokes all alone No one's home, sixteen and wild (ooh)

You and charles have been friends ever since you were kids, your parents were friends with his parents since they were in school, and eventually, that lead to you always being raised close with each other. You were together through everything, when his dad passed and when Jules and Anthoine died. He was always there for you too, no matter how busy his schedule was, so much, your parents started to wonder if there was something else going on between the two of you. You were fifteen and had a crush on a boy in your school, you thought he liked you too, that was until you saw him kiss another girl at some random party, of course, your fifteen-year-old self took it pretty hard, immediately leaving the scene and running towards the closest bathroom and letting the tears fall. What you didn’t know at the time was that charles had witnessed the whole scene and also ran towards the bathroom, storming in, not caring if it was the ladies room, immediately embracing you, holding you tight, brushing your hair out of your face, kissing your head and whispering into your ear, reminding you how everything was gonna be ok, and how he would always be there for you.

A few months later, you found yourself turning sixteen, charles right there by your side as you blown the candles, making secret jokes the whole time. The name of the boy who made you cry in that bathroom, long forgotten by now, the only person in your mind being the Monegasque by your side.

Your past and mine are parallel lines

Stars all aligned and they intertwined

And taught you

The way you call me, "Baby"

Treat me like a lady

“Y/n, can you come here?” you heard him calling you from the living room, making you leave the room who were in to go to him.

“Yes, baby�� you made your way to the couch, straddling charles as his hands found his way to your waist.

“God, I love when you call me baby.”

“Yeah?” you ask kissing his cheek and neck, him only humming as a response. “Why did you call me?”

“I wanted to make you a snack, what do you want to eat?”

“Really? You called me here just to see what I wanted to eat?”

“Yeah, why? Did I do something wrong?” his face expressions changing, but you quickly put your hands on both sides of his face.

“No, no, you didn’t. You just caught me by surprise, that’s all, you don’t need to make me anything.”

“No, but I want to, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, mon ange” you hug him tight, kissing his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist, keeping you close to him.

Every dead-end street

Led you straight to me

Now you're all I need

I'm so thankful for

All of the girls you loved before

But I love you more

“I miss you” you heard on the other side of the line, making a soft smile creep its way onto your face.

“I miss you too, you know that, but you win this race, and you might get a reward when you get home.” You heard his chuckle through the phone and hear a mechanic calling him, letting you know your time with him was over. “Good luck, champ, I love you.”

“I love you too, mon ange.” Was the last thing that you heard and then he hung up.

“Y/n?” you heard from behind you, making you turn around “Y/n Y/l/n?”

“Charlotte? Hi, how are you?” you greeted the girl in front of you, silently hoping charles’ name wouldn’t come up, considering she was his ex-girlfriend.

“I’m good. How are you? I heard you and charles are dating now” ‘and she went there’ you thought.

“Hm, yeah, I’m good” you said, not knowing what else to say.

“It’s fine Y/n, really, I kind of always knew he had a thing for you, besides we just weren’t good for each other, I’m glad you’re both happy”

“Thanks, really, it was good to see you.” You said your goodbyes and headed home so you could watch charles’ race.

“Mon amour, I’m home” You were in the bedroom, and as soon as you heard him you sprinted down the hallway, launching yourself into his arms, making both of you loose balance, causing you to fall on the couch, charles on top of you. “Woah, are you okay?” he asked as he carefully placed a kiss on your lips.

“I’m so freaking proud of you, you did it, charles, what a fucking brilliant race” you kissed him passionately, making him moan into the kiss.

“Thank you, I think I did good.”

“You thought you did good? You did amazingly, you did perfect, I’m so proud of you I can’t put it into words. Hard work always pays off, and you’re living proof of it. I love you so so much, my love.” You said looking into his eyes.

You stayed like that for a while, looking so deep into each other’s eyes you could almost look into each other’s soul, until charles lifted you up and carried you to the bedroom, kissing you during the entire time of the walk. He dropped you on the bed and kissed you one last time before going to take a shower and put on some more comfortable clothes.

“You know who I saw today?” you asked charles, who was still getting ready in the bathroom. “Charlotte.”

“Oh yeah? Did you talk?”

“Yeah, she said she knew that we were together, and she was happy for us, because she always thought you had a thing for me.”

“Oh well, she’s right, I did always have a thing for you, ever since we were like twelve” he said in the simplest way, as if he hadn’t just admitted he liked you since you were little.

“Wait, what? You dated her when you were seventeen.”

“Yeah, but just because you were dating that douchebag.” He walked out of the bathroom, coming to sit next to you, holding onto you has you brushed his still wet curls.

“Well, I’m thankful for everyone we dated before, it lead us to here, and I couldn’t be happier to be here” you stated while his finger drew soft patterns on your skin.

“Me too, mon ange, I’m really happy that we’re here”

#charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #taurussbabe

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ohisms · 6 months

Text

↪ ᵀᴴᴱ 𝑀𝐼𝐶𝐾 . ( a series of sentence starters from season 1 of fox's sitcom , “ the mick ” . adjust phrasing as necessary . will be updated ! )

oh my god , why do you have gasoline ?!

we're fine , not that it's any of your concern .

stay out of trouble .

no , you're not coming in with me .

you're embarrassing . you embarrass me . i'm embarrassed of you .

can i bum a smoke , please ?

it's okay , i already have a dollar .

i get the sense that you're in need a lot .

i don't have a problem . you do , otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation .

what do you mean ? you invited me .

i got into yale , that doesn't mean i'm going .

the scales of justice tip in favor of the wealthy .

if we throw enough money at this thing , i'm sure it'll go away .

let's catch up in ten years when you need another loan .

i feel like we got off on the wrong foot .

i want you to come to me with boy problems . or girl problems , i don't assume .

i know you think you're pretty clever with this plan to drink me under the table , but there's two problems ... you're not , .. & you can't .

she's not dead , i can see her breathing .

i cannot count the number of times i've been ripped off a barstool & thrown in a cage .

i should probably get out of the house , yesterday kinda got away from me .

i don't like these people . but i like you .

why are we at a poor person's restaurant ?

don't touch my stuff , psycho .

no , i don't believe you . you're lying .

uh , i don't know , maybe because you're a lying bitch .

okay , look , i understand this stuff is really hard to hear .

let's just keep our voices down , okay ?

you think i care about these idiots ?

what is wrong with you ? you're making a scene .

how's that for a scene ?! dinner & a show !

i know what you're up to , & you're not gonna get away with it .

i'm sorry , you think you're in charge ?

once all this is gone , all that's left is this . & nobody wants just this .

wait , wait , wait ! i'm coming with you !

i will only go if i have your blessing .

if you need anything at all , do not hesitate to call 911 .

[ name ] , my beautiful angel !

i heard about that little accident you had .

so , this is it ! home sweet home .

holy crap , you're alive ...

what are you doing here ? are you living at my place ?

okay , i'm sensing some major hostility here .

i thought you were dead !

don't pay attention to him , he's no one .

— i'm just kidding ! oh , i'm so sorry , your face ...

no ... you're joking — this is a joke , right ?

i'm gonna go freshen up , this'll be fun !

my legs are heavy , but my mind is light ...

wait , why is my window open ?

do i look like i'm playing games ?

we both burnt that bridge , it doesn't matter who lit the match .

i need you to do me a favor , i did you a favor .

oh , thank god you're here . you've gotta help us .

oh , i'm not going anywhere .

what do you want me to do about it ?

knock - knock ... can i come in ?

oh ... i get it . you're jealous .

enough with the guessing games , i'm freaking out over here .

fine . i'll fix this myself .

i thought we agreed i'm the boss ?!

if you saw my silence as agreeing with you , that's on you .

don't take it personally , his heart just isn't for sale .

not now , [ name ] , i'm gloating .

[ name ] ?! since when do you smoke ?

HEY .. !! [ name ] . just the person i wanted to see .

i haven't gone this long without a smoke in years .

either be part of the solution or get the hell out .

well , now i feel like you're lying .

regardless of how we got here , i'm having a really good time .

is it ? is it creepy to be ahead of everybody at all times ?

i want to squeeze you around your neck until you can't breathe .

i said that forever ago when i was young and dumb .

if i were you , i would take this opportunity to lay low .

that's the opposite of what i just suggested .

[ name ] , you've been overruled .

i don't mean to offend you , you don't fit the [ surname ] brand .

it's already happening , we're becoming socially radioactive .

i'm sorry , that night is a blur of bad pinot and intolerable conversation .

oh , so you're a liar too ?

i was sitting at home , and then i remembered you're not my boss .

what's the matter ? little plan didn't work ?

#rp meme #inbox meme #rp sentence starters #inbox prompts #ohisms

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klaineharmony · 2 months

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Why We Ship: Neo/Trinity (The Matrix)

I have not felt compelled to write one of these posts for a long time, but I watched The Matrix: Resurrections again while I was working this afternoon, and Goddess, I have so many feelings about these two.

I think it's hard to convey how utterly capitating the original Matrix was, back in 1999. And I could not have said, then, everything I can say about it now, because I didn't have the knowledge of myself, or the vocabulary, or simply the experience to be able to articulate why Neo and Trinity (and Trinity especially, but that's a separate post) felt like everything. Even apart from the incredible worldbuilding and commentary on society that was The Matrix itself, they were something special.

A lot of people got really salty and irritated with Resurrections because they felt like it was "less about the Matrix" and "more just about Neo and Trinity." And god damn, if that doesn't say everything about two different audiences who watched the original trilogy. If you didn't see that the whole trilogy was about Neo and Trinity's love from the beginning, then we were not watching the same films. Neo is The One because Trinity loves him; that is established in the first movie. He cannot be The One without her; he cannot believe in himself as The One without her and her love. "The Oracle told me that I would fall in love, and that the man I loved would be The One. So you see, Neo, you can't be dead. You can't be . . . because I love you." She literally brings him back from the dead with her love; she makes him The One because she loves him. She is the driving force behind all of it. And it's not a coincidence that Neo does the same for her in Reloaded; he catches her in midair, he pulls a bullet out of her body and keeps her from dying because she is everything to him.

And here I am, still writing a post that is more about Trinity than about Neo and Trinity together. But this is what still strikes me about them after all of these years: their love is complete and beautiful and all-consuming, but it is also grounded very firmly in the grim reality they are living. They are not blind about the fact that they could die; they know that every minute of every day, and every minute the spend in The Matrix, could be the last one. They do everything they can to keep that from happening, and they train with everything they have to try and prevent it, but they know, all the time, that one of them could lose the other. They cherish every moment they have, because they are living in this terrible world where another day is never a certainty. But even with all of that, and all that they feel, they are willing to fight, to do whatever needs to be done to try and bring down the machines and the Matrix. They do not shy away from what they see as their mission and their duty to others, even while they are so anchored in each other.

And it's part of what makes Revolutions so tortorous (I hated that movie when it came out; it broke my heart). They know. They've known it's coming; they've been waiting for it, and they go to die together. They still hope that somehow, they will make it, but if they don't, their entire intent is to die together. Because they love each other, they have literally saved each other's lives and brought each other back from the dead, and they have spent their entire time together trying to dismantle the Matrix. If they have to give up their lives to do it, then they will. And I think the thing that hurt so much, when I watched Revolutions as a much younger person (and who am I kidding, it still hurts) is that they still died apart. Trinity died first, and then Neo, and while Neo was with Trinity when she died, he had already been blinded and couldn't see her, and he died alone. And it felt like a betrayal of everything they were in the most gut-wrenching, soul-destroying way. Their love not only changed the world, it saved the world and destroyed the Matrix and altered the relationship between the machines and humans - and they still died apart.

I remember being emotionally devastated by that last film, so much so that I couldn't watch the trilogy again for years. I was so shattered by the ending, it hurt so much, that I couldn't bear to revisit it. And again, I don't know that I could have said that at the time, but I felt it.

When the trailer for Resurrections came out, I was so emotional the first time I watched it that I felt a little blindsided. I had packed away everything Neo and Trinity meant, because their ending hurt so much - and then there they were, on my screen again, getting another chance. Getting the second chance and the ending they should have had - defying the odds with their love one more time, and in an even more epic way. Neither of them is living, in the Matrix. As Thomas and Tiffany, they're existing. They're brainwashed. They barely remember who they used to be - Thomas is convinced it's all in his head, and Tiff is only Trinity when she's working on and riding her bikes. It's only when they find each other that they start to find themselves again. And even when Neo escapes and he's back in the real world, the hope of Trinity and his love for her is the only thing that keeps him strong enough to keep fighting, the only thing that allows him to access his former powers as The One.

They help each other survive. And it's complicated and difficult and not always pretty, and it's always in the midst of a world that is against them and trying to destroy them - but they survive because their love survives. They love together and fight together and survive together, always.

#The Matrix #The Matrix Resurrections #Neo #Trinity #Neotrin #otp: I'm never letting go #Why We Ship

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scarletttries · 11 months

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Kendall Roy x Reader Engagement/Wedding Headcanons:

Pairing: Kendall Roy (Succession) x Gender-neutral!Reader

Rating: Fluff with one slightly NSFW thought at the end clearly labelled.

Author’s Note: After my own lovely bachelorette party last weekend I got a request for wedding/engagement headcanons for Kendall Roy and couldn't resist! Thank you to everyone who wished me a lovely weekend for my Hen Do and for sending in so many amazing succession requests!! 😊

- From the minute he knew you were the one for him, Kendall would be mentally planning your wedding. It wouldn't matter that it would take him another year to actually propose, he'll live for meticulously planning every detail to make it the most memorable proposal and wedding in history, constantly be thinking of things he wanted for the two of you, scribbling down ideas in his notes app that he can't wait to share with you one day.

- The proposal would be so incredibly Kendall: there would be fireworks, and a stage, and he'd have prepared a musical number, and everything for the whole week would have been set up to lead you unawares to the moment he finally gets down on one knee and asks you to marry him. To be the other half he's always been missing. The loving family he never thought he could deserve. And when you, thank god, say yes; a hundred doves fly out behind you as glitter rains dow,n and it truly feels like something out of a movie or a fairytale, the staged photos front page of every paper in town that night.

- For the entire time you're engaged it's like Kendall's already in the honeymoon phase, his obsession with you is completely renewed. He's so enamoured he finds himself calling you into his office just so he can close the blinds and wrap his arms tightly around you, barely able to contain his grin as he leans down to kiss 'his fiance', a phrase he cannot stop uttering. He'll introduce you to people you've already met a dozen times just so he can say 'my fiance' about you again and again, cheeks aching from the smile that hasn't left his cheeks since you said yes.

- Now that you're engaged he'll also get even more ridiculous with gift giving; when Kendall first starts dating anyone he can be a little insecure that they're just with him for the money, so he holds back on being too generous until he knows their true feelings. But now, expect a bouquet of your favourite flowers every hour, on the hour, each with funny little notes Kendall writes imagining what your life will look like together. Not to mention he insists you both go shopping as 'you both need an entirely new wardrobe now that you're engaged.'

- There won't have been a lot of times you've been able to meet Sophie and Iverson while dating Kendall, so he'll be nervous about re-introducing you to them now that it's as his fiance. But he doesn't need to worry, Sophie is so smart and friendly she'll immediately start running through wedding planning ideas and suggesting you pick them up from school once a week so you can get to know the two of them better - she's seen how much better her father is doing since he found you and genuinely wants to keep you around as much as possible. Naturally Iverson is a lot more reserved, but you'll give him the space he needs and keep the pressure off and over time he'll smile when you walk in a room and Ken will know you've been accepted as part of their dysfunctional family unit.

- The other Roys might not be as welcoming to you when the announcement comes out, assuming you're just some beautiful airhead, or worse, coming after the family's power and fortune, despite how happy Kendall seems to be around you. The exception to this is of course Connor, who will pull you aside after Logan spends dinner shouting about how important prenups are, and tell you he's so excited to have another sibling and he's so happy Ken found you. *For more Kendall prenup drama I have a whole smut fic on it here.*

- Kendall would be torn between wanting a long engagement, loving the affectionate excitement the two of you share every time he catches the glint of your ring out the corner of his eye, and being so excited to plan the wedding that he gets it all set up for just a few months later. No expense would be spared for your day, whether you want to have an island to yourself, an exquisite country house or just to hire out the gallery of your dreams. As long as you're okay with it being BIG, then Kendall will make any dream you have come true.

- Kendall's first wedding was a much more classy, muted affair where he felt like he had to stifle himself to fit the idea of what a wedding should look like. He's learnt a lot about himself since then, and you've always been there to encourage him to be honest with you and hold on tight to the parts of his life that bring him joy, so be prepared for the whole day to be elaborate and spectacular.

- That doesn't mean it's not also magical, and romantic, and intimate. You and Kendall find ways to make every second meaningful to the two of you, stealing away for moments at a time to just look into each other's eyes, overwhelmed with the joy that you are now joined forever, secure together for all the ups and downs your lives will bring (unaware that one of three photographers Kendall hired is taking candid shots that Kendall will have printed as six foot high portraits to hang on the walls of his penthouse, and another dozen images to line his work desk.)

- While you and Kendall aren't too worried about a lot of the classic wedding traditions, you will spend the night before the wedding apart, opting for a cosy night in a luxury hotel with your friends to get prepped. You'll have to have your friends taking shifts by the door at all times though, as Kendall sends an influx of deliveries to show he's thinking of you. And then at 2am he'll turn up at your hotel suite begging your friends to let him see you one more time, "for one last night of sin" and they'll have to remind him it's bad luck and force the door shut in his moping face.

- But it's completely worth it as he sees you for the first time on your wedding day, somehow more beautiful than he could have pictured, dressed to perfection, wearing the same smile as you walk towards him that you did that first day he kissed you and knew then and there that this day would be coming soon. He has to choke back tears as he stutters through his vows, overwhelmed by finally having a true family member in his corner who can love him and have his back through anything.

- Without getting too NSFW, we can all agree Kendall on his wedding night would come at you like a man starved. Greedy hands squeezing and clawing at your thighs hard enough to leave marks as his teeth clash against yours with the sheer fervour that he comes in to kiss you with. A strangled mix of growls and moans, broken up by ecstatic laughs fill the room as he embraces you for the first time as his spouse, exploring and tasting every inch of you like you are an entirely new world only he gets to claim. A world where now he feels safe and accepted and loved. A world he's never going to leave.

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #kendall roy succession #kendall roy headcanon #kendall roy x reader #kendall roy #kendall succession #succession imagine #succession hbo #succession headcanons #succession #gn!reader

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beardedmrbean · 4 months

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Ravioli/raviolo anon here. It occurred to me that I never followed up on my story of how I escaped my roommate's various attempts on my life and I managed to dodge them all like some drunken Mr. Bean. (Is that what I said? I hardly remember, lol. For the record, I don't really drink so much anymore. After I walked home from a birthday celebration a few years back (it wasn't a rager or anything, the bar was just across the road and my birthday is in February so we didn't want to go far) and coldcocked my dome running at top speed into a fence (I was trying to make it into the exit gate before it closed, didn't realize there was a post that came out horizontally across because I don't see very well on account of the fact that I wear colored lenses), I cracked my skull and you can still see where I hit the fence (on my head, I mean, it was a wrought iron fence so I assume I didn't damage it but I never checked), so that's when I realized it was time to slow down).

So it WAS a true story, (I don't really watch television or read much though so if it does resemble a piece of media, I wouldn't know it, lol). Anyway, since I tend to ramble, I will make an effort to keep this in the realm of "less than a novel" but I can't exactly make any promises. I don't know how to add a "read more" or anything fancy like that so in the interest of shortening it I won't be offended if you screenshot only the important parts or even just don't answer it, lol.

There's a little bit of backstory about how I ended up living with the roommate and why he wanted to kill me, long story short he was in the hole about $1600 with me because he bought a motorcycle from me but was "still making payments" on it. He suggested I come room with him in this cheap apartment while we both drove for UPS for peak season. He got fired day two on the job, and so after that he planned to rob me as soon as I finished the season. (In addition to never paying for the bike). I'm a simple guy, though, so I really only had my truck (worthless) and a mattress, and I was just working for the love of the sport so I sent all my checks to my mother and had her send me back a hundred a week. So he can't rob me, so he decides at this point he's mad enough to kill me, and thinks himself pretty clever and that he can do it without getting caught.

About a week into this nonsense, he tells me he's got a job interview in NYC or something, he's gonna be gone tonight, whatever. I'm like, fine, no big deal, hope you get the job, buddy, I'm pretty terrible at this whole UPS thing so I'll be back at midnight or something when I'm done my route. I get home, and I'm about to go to bed, and that's when I decided at about 1AM I sincerely want a grilled cheese sandwich. So I got up, drove across town, and went over to a buddy's house for grilled cheese at 1AM. Come to find out we had a gas leak all night and my roommate is just VERY SHOCKED that we BOTH happened to be out, what are the odds. I'm all "hey, man, God is good, I'll drink to that, get me another beer".

Not long after that, I finish my route at who friggin' knows how late, I'm the last guy in the lot, even the security guards have gone home, and my truck (which cannot be locked, I don't have a key for the door so I leave it unlocked) is, what the heck, locked. I have no way of calling my roommate (same reason why I drove across town to find my buddy instead of just calling and asking: I didn't have a phone at the time), and it's looking like I might just freeze to death out here because it's -3F and it's after midnight in New England, so there's nobody out and about. Well, nobody, except this old Russian guy who sees me standing next to my truck, asks if I need help, and when I tell him I'm locked out, he tells me he's been in prison a few times for carjacking and will get me into my truck in no time. Which he does. So I bring him home with me and we have a beer (he had a few more than me, I had to work in the morning. You know how it is.) (And for the record I have never driven under the influence. I didn't go to college, my CDL is all I have. I don't dick around with that.)

So at this point, my roommate is pretty pissed. I'm either too hammered or too tired to notice. UPS is really kicking my ass. It's finally Christmas time, time to celebrate the end of peak season with a trip to the bar, oorah. He gives me a bottle of Poland Springs and says to drink the whole thing, it's water and we're gonna be drinking hard tonight, gotta hydrate or die-drate, bitch. I knock it back and wouldn't you know it, that son of a bitch didn't give me water, this is straight Everclear. I get to the bar and I'm already sick, I go straight to the toilet and barf all over the place. Somewhere along the line I went up to the bar and started dozing off, at which point they kicked me out, so roommate says "don't worry, I'm gonna take him home". Not sure what the plan from there was, tbqh. I DO know that I realized about halfway out of the city that we weren't headed back to our apartment, and that we were headed towards either Connecticut or NYC, and I told him I wanted to go back home because I did NOT want to go to NYC because if we were going to NYC, that meant we were probably going to watch Eric Andre with his boring cousin in Queens and I was really not in the mood. I'm pretty sure he planned on dumping me somewhere on the highway where I'd freeze to death, and I was slipping back and forth out of consciousness, but I was SO consumed by how badly I did NOT want to go to Queens and watch Eric Andre, I called the cops and told them I was being kidnapped to watch Eric Andre. They were more concerned about the kidnapping part for some reason, (criminal restraint, I think is actually what they called it), caught up to roommate and I halfway out of Clifton Park (we'd apparently been doing 110MPH on the freeway and he was swerving all over the place) and he got arrested.

The next morning the cops told me I should press charges, but that meant staying in the state (because I'd have to be there when it went to trial) and I had other plans. So, I let karma do its work on the roommate (no idea where he is now or what's become of him, but I do know he lost his license and later blew every cent he had on some raffle scam for a Toyota out in California), packed up my stuff, and moseyed on.

I'm marathoning The Twilight Zone with a friend online today (watching the same eps on the same service) this was wilder than any episode I've seen ever.

#anonymous #unhinged story time #this is incredible #waiting for more story to come #if there is any

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emwritesstuff · 5 months

Text

as the world caves in | ch. 10 | bucky barnes x reader

synopsis: You are a ghost story. A former Air Force pilot who had her plane shot down by Germany in 1945, but here you were in 2023, alive and frozen in your 25-year-old body.

You haven’t seen Bucky since the 1940’s, before his fall, before you went on a suicide mission only to come back alive. You aren’t sure reliving those memories – and being a living memory of everything the man has lost – is the best for him.

But you and Bucky won’t be apart for long.

This will loosely follow the plot of TFATWS - so spoilers ahead, specially regarding episode six (finale). Thread carefully!

masterlist | AO3

notes: wheewoo. it's been a while, and I hope you guys - whoever still reads this - enjoy this. I'm so so sorry for taking so long. We're nearing the end. iykyk. (warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of the apocalypse and atomic bombs, mentions of death, wwii) (word count: 4.5K)

ten: coffee

The aroma of coffee filled your nostrils as you stirred awake. You stretched your limbs on your bed as the soft sunrays of the early morning entered through the window.

Your feet made little noise as you padded towards the smell, though you knew Bucky’s super-soldier ears would pick it up anyway.

“Mornin’.” The husk of his voice, of his first word of the day, made your heart skip a beat. It was like a record you could keep forever on repeat.

You were almost glad he kept his back turned so he didn’t see you bite your lip and subsequently roll your eyes at your own reaction.

“Good morning.” You say it back once you get to the kitchen, smiling at him as you watched him move around. “Coffee?”

“Yeah. Here.” He slid a mug to you and took one for himself, seemingly satisfied with his job as you see him give a little nod after a sip.

You whispered your thanks and brought the drink to your lips, feeling the warmth of it through the ceramic. The reaction was immediate – as soon as you tasted it, your nose crinkled.

It’s sweet, the gesture itself surely was sweet. It’s too damn sweet.

Bucky had put sugar into the coffee pot.

“I cannot believe you.”

Your guilty, deer-in-headlights eyes looked up at him, who’s staring at you with a bewildered frown.

“It’s fine—”

“No!”

“I barely— I’ll still drink it!” You took another sip, licking your lips in sequence.

So. Much. Sugar.

“You can’t even pretend you don’t hate it.” He said, shaking his head. “And you call yourself a spy? With that face?”

“I was one,” You clicked your tongue. “All this time and you didn’t learn how to make coffee properly.”

“This is— it’s practical.” He rolled his eyes, sipping his sugary coffee. You followed. “Stop it.”

“I’m drinking it! You made it for me.” It wasn’t how your old-habits-self preferred it, but you have had it worse. Although somehow, that was making Bucky more annoyed instead of appeasing him.

He glared at you indignantly when you tell him you’re doing it to show your appreciation, then setting the mug down when he huffed. “What now?”

“Nothing.” Bucky stared at your ceiling and you at his profile. You tilted your head when he sighed. “…stupid thing to be arguing about.”

“We argue about stupid things all the time.” You took the coffee in your hands, but didn’t drink. “Argue-d?”

“Still do. Like when I tied your arm sling too tight.”

You grumbled that it was indeed too god-damned tight, and Bucky chuckled.

In truth, you had missed this. Even the bickering, yes, how the two of you were too stubborn to give in their very specific ways of doing everyday things. It made you feel alive, like you too had been frozen on ice with your two best friends.

One sip from you and Bucky was licking his teeth. He was faking the outrage, you could tell as you grinned at him.

“If Steve was here—” You started, making him turn to you with a resigned smile.

“He’d just fix everything. Mediate, the Stevie thing he used to do. He hated us arguing.”

Disturbed his peace.

“I suppose now someone’s gotta...?”

The phone chimed before you could finish your sentence. It was Sam.

You coming, Top Gun?

You chewed at your nail as you read the words, transmitting them on to Bucky next to you. He nodded, cursing under his breath that he’d agreed to this cookout in the first place.

Bring Robocop with you.

You assured Sam – and Bucky too – he’d be there.

“I’ll complain the whole time.”

“That’s okay. He knows how you are already,” You joked, leaving the kitchen with your coffee in hand. He wouldn’t complain, at least not the entire time. You could see him having a fairly good time with Sam’s family and friends, even if he’d insist he wasn’t a people person anymore.

Before you disappeared into your room to pack, you turned to look at Bucky again. He was watching you from the kitchen counter, a small smile dancing on the corner of his lips.

Then it hit the realization that he’d stayed over. Actually stayed, and still made no signs of wanting to leave. You wondered if he had noticed that and didn’t care or if it was an inertia driven thing. One thing you knew: Bucky looked right where he belonged between your yellow kitchen tiles and mid-century cabinets. With his overly sweet coffee and darkened eyebags and sagging, tired, relaxed shoulders.

“What are you wearing?”

“A sundress. And a hat.” You smoothed the fabric, checking yourself one last time before you two left the hangar.

“I know it’s a dress, but—”

“Then why are you asking?” This made Bucky huff, his metal fingers tightening over the cake packaging.

Who brings birthday cake to a cookout? He grumbled about how it’s so much skin. You ignored it, because he didn’t have the right to complain about your attire, considering his own. “Listen, you might like getting a heatstroke with all that leather, but it’s warm today so I’m going to wear my dress.”

“Yeah, yeah, diss the jacket. But don’t come runnin’ after me when you get cold later.”

“Deal.”

It was a short walk to the docks and the small crowd that were Sam’s friends and family. The welcome that was given by the new Captain America’s closest warmed your heart – soon enough, you and him were mingling, eating, giggling on a corner with Sarah about how all the kids and some adults were completely smitten with Bucky. She teased about how you were, too.

Even the cake was somewhat of a success. Bucky made sure to throw that on your face.

The day breezed by, and you only noticed the passing of time when fireflies started twinkling as the sun disappeared behind the river.

“This doesn’t look like your jacket.” Sam hummed, joining you at a picnic table, a smirk on his face. You threw a lemon slice at him.

Bucky’s jacket felt heavy over your body. The warmth you got from it probably showed on your cheeks, but you had no intention of facing the chill of the night with bare shoulders now that it was offered to you.

“Shut it.”

“Just sayin’, just sayin’.” He laughed. You shook your head, casually sipping your cranberry limeade. “And all you had to do was look mildly cold. He left me talking to myself to put that over you.”

You smiled. There was no denying how that made you feel; especially to Sam Wilson who was now giving you an eyebrow wiggle.

Your smile dropped a little.

“Sam…I can’t.” You sighed. “Not now. Things are finally good as they are, and—”

“Are they?”

Sam was looking at you, in that Sam way that looked right into your soul. You felt small, like you were maybe, ten, and not a-hundred-and-six years old.

“Yes. I just got him back. I already made the wrong call once, and I won’t do it again. Heartache be damned. I lived 70 years of it, hopeless and this… this is more than what I could ask for. Things are good.” You let out a breathless sigh. “Golly, say something before I start rattling on again.”

“Wow, that makes you sound so...” Sam started laughing when you kicked his shin, and amidst your own laughter you confirmed that yes, you were in fact old. “I was gonna say vintage!”

“And speaking of vintage,” He continued, and that’s when you finally realized the song that was playing.

Time after time

I tell myself that I'm so lucky to be loving you

People around you were saying oohs and aahs, couples new and old gathering to dance below the string lights while you glared at Sam. “You planned this?”

“Hey, don’t look at me. Look behind you.”

A hand was extended in your direction when you turned.

So lucky to be

Bucky was grinning down at you while you stared at him, dumbfounded. “C’mon, sugar. Don’t leave me hangin’, yeah?”

You took his hand quickly, shrugged his jacket off your shoulders and then you two stepped into to the spontaneous dance floor that had formed.

The one you run to see

“I haven’t done this in a long time.” He said and you looked at him, so beautiful under the dim lights. “Sorry if I step on your feet.”

All you could do was gaze at him, still a bit in awe as he swayed you to Margaret Whiting’s voice. He raised an eyebrow at you. “What?”

“Nothin’. You’re going back to your old ways, then?” You grinned, averting his eyes. “Know who you’re dancing with next?”

He tightened his grip on your waist and you pretended it didn’t make your chest tight.

“No one. I just figured we should… for old times,”

“Right.” You bit your lip. He was staring, and that feeling of being a teenager in love hit again.

“And it’s a good change from all that R&B.”

You laughed.

You've kept my love so young, so new

He made the pair of you spin around, and your eyes met Sarah’s from across the room. She was standing next to the speaker, giving you a thumbs up.

The little shit.

You turn your head, your cheeks reddening as you attempt to hide away in Bucky’s shoulder.

The Wilsons and their meddling. A family of wingmen.

Your new position didn’t help things, because the smell of Bucky’s cologne and the way he pulled you flush against him had your heart beating wildly inside your ribcage.

His was too. You could feel it, almost hear it this close.

You told yourself it was from the audience you only now were noticing. The other pairs were gone, leaving just the two of you dancing. You looked up at him, finally.

“Buck.”

He hummed, meeting your gaze. His eyes had a sparkle to them. Something different in the blue. Something secret.

And time after time

You'll hear me say that I'm

Your lips parted, words at the tip of your tongue.

So lucky to be loving you

“You guys want another song?” Sam’s voice cut through the crowd, and pulled you from whatever daze you had been caught in.

Bucky grumbled and you stepped back, the wind chilly on your back now that you were out of his embrace.

You felt cemented to the floor, caught and exposed. The arms you had been safely tucked in gone from around you. Only turned when Bucky stomped past you, nearly knocking shoulders with Sam in the process.

Some wingman he was.

People returned to the dance floor as soon as a dancey 80’s ballad blasted through the speaker. Your dance partner from a minute ago nowhere to be seen. “I’m here to rescue you,” Sarah took your hand, leading you away from the eye of the hurricane.

They managed to squeeze three songs in before the rain started. Bucky’s sudden sour mood seemed to have summoned the clouds, now pouring themselves noisily over the tent you had sheltered under.

“I guess I ruined the mood, huh?”

“Goodness grief, Sam.” You chided, wrapping your arms around yourself. The chill now biting harder with the rain. “There was no mood. Everyone was watching. He’s—”

Embarrassed. “Self-conscious. You know.”

Sam nodded, and you went back to scanning your surroundings for any signs of Bucky.

“There was a little mood though.”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry, sorry!”

You were ready to berate him some more when you were enveloped in something warm, your eyes seeing leather and metal before you could turn and see Bucky, right at your back.

Soaked. To the bone, water dripping from him as he helped tighten the jacket around your shoulders. “James—!”

“’M sorry about earlier. I—” He then looked behind you, seemingly noticing the other people also huddled under the tent.

Sam was looking everywhere but at the two of you. He murmured something like Not here. Not even here.

“You wanna go?” You offered quietly, and Bucky’s eyes softened in gratitude.

“You guys can’t fly in this weather!” Sam poked his head at your side, and as if to hammer his point down thunder rumbled above all of you.

Suddenly even you felt too crammed and claustrophobic in the middle of everyone else. You were sure Bucky did too, his fingers tightening on your shoulders as the rain picked up.

“It’s fine. I’m used to—”

“He’s right. We can go back tomorrow.” Bucky rolled his eyes when Sam looked at him in shock, and you chuckled.

“Wait wait wait. Can you repeat that? On record—”

“No.”

“Sam…”

“Fine.” He tutted, and you sighed. ”You guys want to stay at the house?”

“No.” Bucky repeated, and you surprised yourself with the relief that hit you. “We’ll get a hotel or somethin’.”

“Carlos can drive y’all to the Monte Carlo? He’s going too.”

You couldn’t be more thankful for Sarah right now.

You used Bucky’s jacket to cover your head as the two of you ran from Carlos’ truck to the Monte Carlo Motel. A quick wave at him and you were inside, making your clumsy ways to the reception.

The girl behind the desk looked warily at Bucky and his soaked self, although it could also be because of the exposed metal arm.

“Hi, uh—one double room?”

You and Bucky blurted out a panicked no at the same time, locking eyes as the receptionist scrambled for another key. Then you also handed her a credit card at the same time.

“I got it.”

“Buck, it’s fine, I can—”

He scowled. “No. Said I got it.” He placed his metal hand on top of yours with your card and slid his own across the desk. You stared at him, schooling your facial expression to not show the surprise on your face. Nothing you could do about the color on your cheeks, though.

He sensed your eyes on him and looked at you, making you bite your lip. It’s like you’d forgotten how dominating he could be, and how it made you feel some type of way.

You blinked it away. “You gonna ask for a vet discount? Senior?”

Bucky clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Are you?”

“No one would believe me.”

“But would believe me?”

“You have that old man grouchiness to ya.” You said, shrugging. He shot you one of his glares.

“Iraq?” The receptionist pulled you two away from the bickering, giving Bucky’s card back and two room keys.

“Normandy,” Answered simultaneously, earning a chuckle out of you. She shot you a disbelieving smile.

“Told you she wouldn’t believe me.” You quipped as you went up the stairs.

“Oh, come on.”

You laughed, elbowing him playfully once you reached him at the top of the stairs. “She would’ve if she knew your music taste.”

“My music taste?” You squinted.

“I wasn’t listening to Vera Lynn on a random Thursday night.”

“That’s ‘cus you can’t operate a Bluetooth speaker.”

He rolled his eyes, huffing in annoyance. It came easy to you, the provocations, a much palatable feeling than the awkwardness from before. Bucky then turned to assess which way your rooms were in, leaving you to follow him as he trudged through the corridor.

He stopped in front of the 304, handing you one of the keys. “Mine is at the other side of the building I’m guessing.” The numbers 323 shown on his own keychain proved that to you.

It was both comforting and disappointing that you wouldn’t be sharing a wall.

“Alright,” You said, opening the door.

“Y/N, I—Sorry about earlier. About leaving like that.” He let out a heavy breath when you turned to look at him, hand on the doorknob.

“It’s okay. I’ve never been the greatest dancer.” You shot him a crooked grin, and he shook his head, expression still solemn.

“It wasn’t you— I panicked. The starin’…” He cast his eyes down, at his feet, and you gave his bicep a squeeze.

“I know. Nerve wracking,” You said softly, still a bit restless from earlier. “I loved dancing with you though.”

Bucky raised his gaze, meeting your own. Lips parted. Eyes darting down to lips. Nodded once. “Me too, sugar.”

You smiled. The words almost falling from the tip of your tongue again.

“I—”

“I should— get to my room,”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“G’night, then.”

You hummed. “Night, Buck.”

You had to fight the urge to slide down the door once you closed it, after watching his frame disappear around the corner.

The confession had almost come out of you, almost ruining everything. It was enough how you felt, how your pulse raced. How your fingers burned, wanting to touch. Those words were the one thing you managed to keep together.

90 years and counting.

You hoped, prayed – at whichever entity that lived above the ceiling – for sleep to take you before you could lose control of everything.

It was supposed to be a secret mission, with slim possibility of return. You and two other WASP pilots were to fly over Belgium and drop supplies to the men resisting at the Ardennes, knowing there was no chance the Luftwaffe wouldn’t bomb you as you crossed over their skies. The hundreds of men running out of food and medical supplies, struggling to resist Germany’s attacks, left you no option.

The three of you knew this would to be the outcome. You were ready to die trying.

“Goddamnit, Webster!” You shouted to yourself, Maggie’s intercoms no longer functioning as her cockpit was blown to smithereens from a German plane’s bomb.

There was only you and them in the air now, Dana Miller lost on the fly in. You could only hope her aircraft was the only casualty.

Thunder boomed right beside you. Except it was an array of shots that had destroyed your right turbine, causing your plane to lean comically to one side. Comically, yes, because laughs bubbled desperately out of your chest at the sight.

A few more miles and you’d be out of German occupied territory.

You only had to keep it together a little longer.

When gaining altitude became a lost battle to simply trying to keep your plane in the air, the Germans were nowhere to be seen. The RAF zooming by seconds later made you breathe a sign of relief.

You knew from the start returning home was unlikely. It mattered very little. One of your dog tags had lost its pair to the Alps. Steve had told you through radio before the rumors could reach you.

Bucky wasn’t coming home. What on Earth would be left for you if you did?

You grasped the chain around your neck as your plane plummeted towards the Belgian grass fields. The world at its end.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three—

You woke with a start, gasping for air as if you’ve been held underwater for too long. The covers had been kicked off you during the night, but even without them you still felt hot and choked up.

It’s been a long time since those kinds of dreams disturbed your sleep, you managing to keep them at bay enough that it was rare when they came now. Never unfamiliar though.

With a long sigh, you tried to pull it together. Washed your face in the sink. Drank some water and eyed the mini liquor bottles in the fridge. None worked. The sense of urgency overpowered you.

The feeling that everything was collapsing; that your plane was crashing over Belgium, half of it on fire, your sisters in arms gone, your two best friends gone.

You left your room with Bucky’s jacket held tightly against your chest, barely feeling the chill of the humid night air as you made your way down to the reception or wherever you could find something to distract you.

You found him on the landing after the first flight of stairs, leaning against the railing.

“Hey,” You called out softly, and Bucky turns to you in surprise. It goes away as soon as it comes, the moment he understands.

“Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head. “Bad dream.” You explained, and he nodded. Extended a paper cup in your direction, not saying anything. You took it gratefully, pausing before the first sip. “Did you—?”

Bucky gave you a tired smirk. “Two sugars, sugar. Still shit though.”

The pet name made you bite your lip. “Can’t be worse than Army coffee,” You shrugged. He was right though. It was shit. Tasted terribly, even worse than Bucky’s brew in the morning.

He chuckled bitterly at the face you made; his tone still light despite it. “And you still complain about mine.”

“Both taught me to appreciate the good coffees in life.”

Bucky clicked his tongue, and you both laughed. You shift, alternating the balance from one foot to the other. Wonder if you should say it.

Best friends don’t keep those things from each other. Best friends talk about their nightmares.

“It was a memory.”

Bucky blinked. Turned to watch your profile. “A memory?”

You hummed. It’s strange, talking about it— it’s not something you’re used to sharing anymore, not even with Steve. Some intimacies were so reserved to Bucky that you forgot you could do them with someone else.

“From when my plane crashed in Belgium. When I became ‘MIA’. Well, at least that’s the story S.H.I.E.L.D. made up while I was recovering from the serum.” Bucky’s eyes were soft when you looked at him finally. “Haven’t had one of those in a long time.”

Best friends don’t look at each other like that.

“They’re worse than nightmares.” Bucky stepped closer. “To me, at least. It feels… real. Like we’re back there, reliving it again.”

You nodded. Shifted closer, so close you and him were shoulder to shoulder. “It felt like the world was ending.” Shaky breath escaped bitten lips. “Still does.”

“It’s not.” He shook his head as if he’d said the wrong thing. “If it was, we’d know. Two suns in the horizon. See?”

Bucky flexed his fingers, brushing with yours gently. Your eyes followed the horizon he was pointing at with his metal arm, where a single sun began to peek through in orange and purple.

“It did end though, didn’t it? When my plane crashed. When you fell off the train. It ended with the Blip and it ended with Steve,”

He shook his head. “We wouldn’t be here if it had. We’re still here.”

“Not as we were.”

“No. Not as we were.” He sighed, leaning against the railing. His fingers at a distance. Suddenly you felt the need for the jacket. “D’ja think we missed our window, Y/N?”

His question took you by surprise. You blinked, tightening his jacket around you. “I’ve always wanted you with me at the end.”

Bucky frowned, looking at you like you’d grown an extra head. “Not Steve, not anyone else. You. But you weren’t there.”

“What—I wanted you too, but—”

“But I wasn’t there. We missed each other’s ends of the world.”

He shook his head, his eyes scanning your face. Confusion and incredulity stamped so very clearly in his features. You shifted and continued.

“So maybe that’s why it didn’t end. That’s why we’re still here. Maybe… maybe this is our window.”

Realization dawned on him while you bit your tongue. Confession at the tip of it.

A smile softened the lines on his forehead and brightened his eyes. “What if they nuke us right now?”

“Then I’m glad I left my room tonight.”

Bucky offered his hand, splayed open next to you. Your fingers interlaced with his and warmth spread through your body.

“No regrets, sugar?”

“None.” Just the one. You hid your face on his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t notice the heat on your cheeks or the way your heartbeat picked up.

But that had been a long time ago. Maybe that window was truly lost. But you had this. And if the fiery hues in the sky were from an Armageddon and not the sun, there’s nowhere else you wanted to be.

Bucky kissed the top of your head. Wordlessly telling me too.

You raised your eyes at him, almost saying it. Almost loving him out loud.

“Sugar, I—”

Breath caught, hope spiking. “Yeah?”

A long exhale. “…we should try and sleep. Brooklyn’s a long way from here.”

Disappointment squeezed your heart. Foolish. What else could you be expecting?

“Alright.” You reluctantly got up, handing his jacket back. Not even that could protect you from the icyness at the pit of your stomach.

“No, keep it.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Red creeping up his neck from under the henley. “You can give it back tomorrow…”

You nodded. Your shoes looked very interesting as you wrapped the jacket around your shoulders again. “Okay. Good night, Buck.”

“Night, sugar.”

You walked away with weighted feet, as if fighting some kind of gravity that pulled you back to that spot next to him on the stairs. Not turning to see if there was an atomic sun lighting up the slow sunrise. Dissolving the world, only for it to reform again and throw you two back where you had always been.

The war. The train. The Blip. Steve.

This night.

Frustration made you hands shake as they hovered over the doorknob. How long could you stand to orbit him, and never make it to the destination? Nothing is made to fly forever.

One regret.

You have always been bold and brazen, except for this. Facing every challenge, fighting every fight, except battling this one fear.

Not this night.

Pretending the light in the horizon signaled the end and your time was running out, you ran back to where you had left Bucky. Relived that afternoon in England when you’d be separated in the morning and you should’ve run back to him. Summoning every ounce of courage the serum had left in your body.

Your resolve was set when Bucky himself rounded the corner. Blue eyes wild and dark brows knitted together in unruly urgency.

“Bucky! I—”

You managed a couple extra steps in his direction when he closed the distance between you, grabbing your face with flesh and metal.

A huff of surprise as you braced for collision.

It came in the form of a kiss, lips crashing into each other, the taste of yearning and coffee on your tongue.

You’d already taken the damn fall.

#emwrites #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #atwci

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