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#i just want like. help and community and to not feel like i'm losing my mind alone sometimes

iwanttobepersephone · 2 days

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So I sent this message to @findingcrow

And I ended up explaining literally all of the emojis. Here they are (in order of explained, not order of how they were put). I spent 3 hours explaining this and it's a LONG post, so, sorry lol

👯‍♀️-The twins are just a pair of dancers, and I love the vibes of Scar and Grian dancing together in the desert

🫧-The bubbles are because their love has the same vibes as the way a child loves bubbles. The child thinks bubbles are pretty and fun, but often pops them due to a lack of understanding of their fragility

⚖️- The scale is a symbol for justice, something that Grian had the intention of bringing to the server, and yet, in the end, he hated following through with it (killing Scar)

🪬- The hand is called a hamsa, as far as I'm aware, and is a symbol for protection and guidance, something that Grian offered to Scar throughout the entire time they knew each other

✨️- The sparkles are about how attractive and nice their love seemed to Grian, how shiny the prospect of loving Scar was

💌- Well, to me, it feels like keeping his love hidden inside him, leaving only hints of its existence. You cannot read what's inside the envelope until you open it, but the heart implies it was sealed with love. He hides his feelings in the envelope like a letter never meant to be read

💃- Ok, so, the dancing one is the same as the pair dancing

🌌- The galaxy is about his home, as I like to think the Watchers live in sorta in space-ish. I think a lot about Grian routinely going up on the roof in any season of the series and just, staring at the stars. "Oh wow," he'll say, "it's so much more beautiful looking up than down"

🫀- I tend to use the real heart for situations when my love feels, well, *real*, more so than the typical cartoons heart can express. When it feels almost as if the other person is less of a loved one, more of a part of me, like we've become so very intertwined that I can never forget them. I think you can guess why that applies to Scar and Grian

🎭- The drama masks are, once again, about how he hid his feelings. "No," he said, "I'm not in love. He's just my partner in crime." It's also about how he acted out a personality that fit his needs, too. He always wanted to win, and Scar was a part of that. "I made a deal, I have to live up on it" while he's actively helping kill people, knocking down the number of who he'll have to kill once he's red. In the end, all his actions were for his own gain, but slowly the facade he put on them of being for Scar became real, the mask became his face

🕯- And the candles, well, "the light of the server." A candle in the dark. A fire, something so fierce and destructive, becoming passive and helpful. Something so necessary for some. Plus, they're often associated with magic and rituals, a tool for manifestation and summoning and communication. But a fallen candle, a flame forgotten before bed, it can become destructive again. That's what burns down houses, what takes lives. And if it doesn't lose control, it burns, and burns, and keeps burning until all of itself has melted, until it's nothing

⚔️- For the swords, I thought mostly of when Grian attacked him. Y'know, "YOU TRAITOR!". #1, I like to think of it as him putting his sword to Scars throat, so swords are obvious there. #2, he also was guarding himself! He trusted Scar, showed him parts of himself he never showed anyone else (maybe even revealed he's a watcher?????), and then Scar KILLED HIM! As part of a stupid game! (Yes I'm aware of the irony there it drives me insane I can rant about that themes about that for so so so so long and the guilt Grian feels for being the cause the games Rzaurskr74us4s4ua). So, obviously, he started to guard his heart, like swords across an entrance

⚰️- Coffin is 2 things, first, the way their love died as Scar did. I like to think that Grian tried to bury him a little, Scars final resting place was also the resting place of their love (at least, the final resting place of SCARS love). The second thing is that Scar would sell coffins, remember? But he never got one. He never got what he gave, but he did get everything Grian had

🎠- So, the horse isn't JUST a horse, it's a merry-go-round horse. Y'know, from a carousel? So, in all the seasons, their relationship kinda follows the same main story-beats, right?

•Early betrayal/beginning of a grudge

•They're forced to make up, even if just briefly

•Help each other out with something

•They fall out again

•They die (sometimes being the CAUSE of the others death, even if indirect)

It happens again and again.... like how a carousel goes around and around and around. You CHOSE to get on the carousel, Grian, and you can't get off until it's over, you know that, Grian

🏜- Anywas, for the desert, well, they're the desert duo

🦙- For the Llama, don't tell me you forgot about Pizza!

🌓- Ok the half moon, Let's see how effectively we can put this into words. So it's 2 sides of the moon, right? It's the same thing at its core, the moon, but two entirely separate appearances, light and dark. It's the same thing at its core, a game, but two entirely separate experiences, the player and the creator. 2 sides of the same coin sorta deal, yeah? They both play the game, too, and in my mind, Scar sorta creates the game, too, in his own way. Would Grian have ever stuck around the game the way he did if Scar weren't there? Scar kept things interesting for him, kept him from getting bored. Grian bent and created new rules to make sure Scar had fun, the game was created just as much for Scar as it was for Grian. And again, Grian plays too! Grian has plans blow up in his face, Grian faces punishments of breaking the rules, and despite what the other players may say, Grian lost, too. It's the same thing at its core, a game, unwinnable, but malleable

❤️‍🩹- The bandaged heart is a bit more on the nose,

I like to think both Grian and Scar were, in some way, hurt when they met. Maybe Grian had become used to the ultimately selfish love of the watchers, and had trouble believing that any other sort of love could exist. Maybe Scar hated his namesake, and wished he could hide it. (Examples, I can't quite decide on what I wanna do with it, lol. But as they grew closer, that changed. Grian began to believe in selflessness, and Scar began to find beauty in every part of him. They bandaged each others wounds and healed each others hearts

🧨- So, the dynamite is also pretty obvious, I feel like, like it's Grian. Now I COULD do some sort of deep meaning, pretty easily in fact (blowing up in the emotional way instead of the physical way, losing control of his emotions, once again circling back to "YOU TRAITOR"), but that's really not what I had in mind when I put it there

🏳️‍🌈- The queer flag.... do I need to explain that

🕰- So, the clock is a really cool one, because Grian knew from the very beginning that this would never last. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he had a timer in the back of his mind, constantly ticking, for when it was all gonna end. It was only ever a matter of time, but he pretended it wasn't. He pretended it would last forever. Maybe, if he hoped for long enough, the clock would stop ticking, but it didn't

⏳️- Now, the sand timer has, once again, a very similar meaning. It's a timer till the end of it all, the knowledge that it will always run out, *always*. But he still joins the games, over and over again. He flips the hourglass over and restarts the timer. The sand will keep pouring, it will never change, it will end the same, always

#long post #jesssussss christ I spent 3 hours explaining my emoji choices lol #it was really fun tho #3rd life #life series #traffic light smp #traffic smp #grian #goodtimeswithscar #watcher grian #grian watcher #symbolism #this is just straight up copy and pasted from our dms so if it feels a bit weird thats probably why

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scowlowl · 1 year

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can i ask what yr thoughts on endo discourse are? i dont want to follow antis accidentally

my take on that is that i can't literally reach into someone's brain and see what the hell is going on in there and neither can you, so maybe get the hell out of there and stop trying to tell people what their experiences are based on what you think they should be.

okay look.

i get this ask once in a while, usually after rb'ing something about trauma and dissociation on my sideblog and that's fine but like... me just talking about trauma and dissociation is not the same thing as saying your experiences are invalid because it's not the same. which is kind of the vibe of these questions sometimes so i'm just gonna use yours as a springboard.

i have no fucking idea about you. or anyone, endo or not, or your life. or what happened in it. or what you think about it. or what you've been through. and frankly i am not invested enough in every single person on this website's feelings to add paragraphs of disclaimers about validating everyone else just so i can vent for ten minutes about my own shit.

i'm gonna post stuff about trauma and DID and how they're linked. because they are for me. that's gonna include the neuroscience behind it because learning that aspect of it has been immensely helpful in my own healing and communication efforts with my system. me talking about that does not automatically mean your own experiences as a system, or the presence of trauma, must conform to that. it's not like subtext in every post or reblog.

i'm not gonna talk about endos because that's not me, those discussions really don't involve me because i don't want to be part of them, and the one line i draw is that if you're not a survivor then get out of those spaces and at the very least, regardless of your personal opinions, leave room for discussions about being a system that don't actually relate to you. you don't have to relate or understand something to make space for it.

you can't see in my brain. fuck, i can't even see in my own brain. i also can't see in yours to say definitively what is going on in there. i can have opinions, and i can choose whether or not to air them, and there is so much complexity to a lot of this stuff that i am absolutely not getting into it on tumblr more than that.

…also, like, there are a lot of conflicting opinions between system members about a lot of this stuff. we don't all agree. there's at least one anti-endo member who just bites his tongue because the drama's not worth it here, and there's also a member who's in such denial about the trauma that she's like "well we're clearly endo, or were endo first, or--"

which is a different can of worms but i mostly mention to be like. you know. opinions vary somewhat and we have to apply that whole, trying to make room for experiences you can't relate to and finding ways to connect regardless to tumblr and my own system. that is where i'm coming from. i'm not anti-anything except anti-annoy me.

#i am trying to be as nice about this as i can #but i am sick and have not had coffee #the bottom line is i try not to be a dick about things that are not my business #and regardless of my own opinions on anything i am not gonna change anyone's mind #especially not on tumblr where everyone has made up their mind about everything already #you know?#like the discourse is not why i am here #i just want like. help and community and to not feel like i'm losing my mind alone sometimes #and i will blog about stuff around that #and if that's not for you #i mean i wish it wasn't for me either so lmao i understand #anyway #pls feel free to DM me if you want anything clarified but also #maybe not anon because i am already fighting the urge to add 100 caveats to cover my ass all over this and i hate that #and i don't bite or anything my tldr here is really i try not to be a dick and also this is tumblr lmao #I HATE ADDING PARAGRAPHS OF DISCLAIMERS I SAY #ADDING PARAGRAPHS OF DISCLAIMERS #the problem with a humanities degree and a peanut gallery in my head is my ability to anticipate every possible counterargument

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thecatspasta · 2 months

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Inspired by @arrgh-whatever's post on helping ppl with BPD

Edit bc I forgot to add this: Being vulnerable means smth different for different ppl, something that could read as being vulnerable to you can read as just another Tuesday for someone else

[ID: a simply-drawn comic, narrated by a person coloured-in in pink.

Panel 1: The pink person narrates: "So there's a lot of "signs your ex is a narcissist and how to deal with them" and it's not very accurate. So here's how to actually "deal" with a narcissist from someone with narcissistic personality disorder."

Panel 2: This panel has the heading: "1. Supply." The pink person narrates: "People with NPD have very fragile self-esteem, and supply is what keeps us from having a mental breakdown. Supply can be many things, but often attention and praise are effective. Stuff like "Wow! That's super cool!!" can go a long way." A person is shown saying this to another person, who smiles.

Panel 3: This panel has the heading: "2. Criticism." The pink person narrates: "Oh boy. So narcissists take things as personal very easily. It's because if anyone contradicts our delusions that we have built our entire self-image on, it feels like you are attacking us as a person." There is an example shown, where one person says "hey, you were a bit too rude back there," but the other person hears "You're an awful dick no-one likes." The alternative manner of phrasing is suggested as "Hey, you were a bit too rude. You're cool, but some people took it poorly." The second person in this example thinks "I'm still a cool person. It's not my fault, but I can do things to be better." The narrator continues, "We don't really understand the concept of a harmless mistake."

Panel 4: This panel has the heading: "3. Boundaries." The pink person narrates: "With narcissists, setting down strict boundaries is very important. 1. Knowing we have hurt you because you didn't set down boundaries can really upset and annoy us because the delusions that we can do no wrong and know you best get broken. 2. If you let us break boundaries, it can lead us to see you as "weak" and devalue you. Communication is key."

Panel 5: This panel has the heading: "4. Anger." The pink person narrates: "So people with NPD tend to be prone to anger. This is a defense mechanism, because to us, it's either facing the inaccuracies of our delusions and having a mental breakdown, or blaming something else. We do not mean to lash out; we just don't have the skills to cope properly. You can help by: 1. Letting us express out emotions without judgement; 2. giving us praise or attention; and 3. Distracting us from what angered us." Each example of how to help is accompanied by a small cartoon.

Panel 6: This panel has the heading: "5. Other NPD things!" The pink person narrates: "'Love bomb, devalue, discard' is actually: we are genuinely obsessed with you and want you to recognize us as cool, we lose that obsession and move on, we feel threatened in some way and lash out. We can't really handle being seen as vulnerable. We take sympathy and empathy as pity and pity as you telling us we're weak. Not acknowledging we're being vulnerable and acting as if nothing is wrong can be helpful in these situations. People with NPD have a very warped view of reality. We do not mean to hurt you and often do not realise we have. Remember, this won't work for everyone, and talking is very important."

/end ID]

Ty to @aromanticsky for the id

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ms-demeanor · 4 months

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*screaming*

*continued screaming*

Okay. So. My introductory Visual C# class.

The professor for that class was Alice. Alice was the person who spoke in the introductory video and the person who we were supposed to email if we had any issues.

But all of the assignments, lectures, and quizzes were written and delivered by Bob. On the youtube channel "Bob's programming academy." The quizzes included Bob's name, like "if you do X will it return the string ProfessorBob, Professor, Bob, or Professor.Bob?"

This class was really frustrating for me because it was structured in such a way that you could easily pass the class with zero knowledge of the subject - it was totally based on quizzes that you could take an unlimited number of times and we *had* weekly programming assignments but they weren't graded so there was no incentive to do them (and look, if I wanted to teach myself programming with no incentives I could fail for several years to do that on my own, I don't need to pay fifty bucks a unit for that; the reason I am in a *class* and am not self-taught is because I need external motivation. That's why I sought out a class).

Also when there *was* a problem with an instruction that was unclear in one of the videos for the assignments, or if I thought I'd done something correctly that was very much incorrect, it wasn't Alice who had created the instructions, it was Bob - in 2017 no less - and I didn't really feel like I could ask Alice for help with an ungraded assignment that she hadn't written.

So. Now. My Python class.

Today is the first day of class. Professor is Charles.

I go to the mandatory attendance quiz and it is word-for-word the same mandatory attendance quiz as the C# class, down to the final question "what is your personal email address so I can keep in contact with you after the semester?"

I look at the syllabus.

Class grade is based on quizzes. We have assignments but none of them are graded. There's no textbook, just a series of videos from Professor Bob's Programming Academy.

So I'd been toying with staying at this school and trying to take more CS classes instead of going to another school, just to try to keep my records easier to manage, but since it seems like that *ENTIRE DEPARTMENT* is five Professor Bobs in a trenchcoat, I will probably be going somewhere else (and once again trying to force myself to do projects that I already know are *good for me to do* but *useless for the class and a massive time suck*)

I should drop this class. I should drop this class and apply for the other school so that I can start taking classes there in the spring because if I take this class and then go into the object oriented programming class in the spring and it's another professor bob sock puppet and I end up taking twelve units of programming classes where all I learn is how to google answers in a short time frame (something I already know how to do thanks) I am going to fucking lose it.

Also, again: I have a Bachelor's Degree. I spent five years at a community college when I was getting that degree. I took probably a dozen online classes starting in 2005 and going until 2011 in the process of getting that degree.

THIS bullshit, this "I'm your professor but actually I'm not and all the materials were created by someone else in the department or came directly from the textbook publisher and there is no writing and there are no assignments everything is multiple choice quizzes that are automatically graded" is *dogshit.*

This is NOT how online classes worked back in my day, not even online math classes, and as much as I know adjuncts are getting fucked over by academia in general, this isn't something that these professors should be getting paid as much as they are to do. Alice checked whether or not students turned in a hello world assignment and gave a pass/fail grades for three discussion boards that were responses to youtube videos. Nothing else in the class required her input. If this is the level of instruction that students are getting then the class is already automated and the students shouldn't have to pay for it.

This is crap. This is an incredible level of crap.

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sabertoothwalrus · 8 months

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hi !! just curious because i was looking at your adventure time episode guide and i love hearing other peoples adventure time takes !! how come you don't like finn's characterisation in together again?

I've talked about it before here and here!

But also I'm gonna say more and share some art I did in 2021 for a rewrite comic that I never got around to doing

So again to reiterate: Adventure Time is usually VERY good at making it feel like time passes, even when you're not watching. It's something about what they don't show that tells you everything you need to know.

Together Again did not do this.

It really really felt like they were avoiding showing Finn as an adult, as if they wanted to leave his post-show life ambiguous. Which, now that Fionna and Cake has shown us literally that, it makes Together Again feel even more wrong?? Like. imagine you have to pick a moment from your life that represents You™ the most. Together Again said that Finn, after living his whole life and dying as an old man, feels most represented by how he was at 17. I do not buy this. I am 25, and I cannot fathom identifying by my 17 year old self. I was a completely different person then, I was still cooking. I can imagine most people feel the same. And ok, so maybe Finn DOES for some reason feel stuck at 17? Explain to me why!! What needed to happen to him that made him feel that way?

And before you just say "it's because Jake died," there's still too much that was left out. How old was Finn when Jake died? What was Finn like, at that point? What else had they accomplished? What was he doing at the time that was on the forefront of his mind? Where/with who did they spend most of their time? Where were they living after the treehouse got destroyed?

It was like,,, it was like the story Together Again actually wanted to tell was about Finn's grief, and how poorly he copes, and how too much of his identity is tied to Having Jake, and how he struggles to move on. But that's not the story we got. I honestly think-- as interesting as it was-- everything with New Death and Tiffany and Lich just did a disservice to the focus, which was Finn trying to get over Jake.

I think Together Again should have gone like this:

Finn and Jake had always planned that whoever died first would wait in the dead world for the other to die so the two of them could reincarnate. Jake dies first. Jake would be able to "watch over" Finn as he lives the rest of his life, so Jake wouldn't miss Finn as much as vice versa, since he'd feel like he's still there with him. Eventually, Finn dies.

Finn's appearance would change with his emotional state. I thought it'd be interesting to show different phases of his life through the stages of grief.

There'd be a room where they could watch Finn's memories. Finn would walk Jake through the events of his life. We SEE exactly how Finn dealt with grief, with heartbreak, with love, with friends, with community. All the good and all the bad.

By the end of it, Finn is quiet. "Jake... when we reincarnate, will we.. lose all of this?" "Well, do you remember anything from any of your other past lives?" "No.. But that's the point. I don't want to forget you." Finn, despite their promise, despite Jake waiting for him all this time, declines reincarnating. He doesn't want to move on, because that would mean forgetting everything. He wants to say with Jake!! He JUST got Jake back!!

“What if— in the future— what if they forget about us? What if they don’t know about all the stuff we did?” We see Ooo in its current state. It’s changed, but it’s clearly been affected by the two of them. Every person they’ve saved, every civilization they helped build, every hero they’ve inspired. They’ve left their touch everywhere. “They’ll know,” Jake says with certainty. “We’ll know.” We see the future, with Shermy and Beth. We see the Finn Sword, and BMO with all their old belongings. Everything stays, but it still changes. Will happen, happening, happened. These have always been the themes of the show. They reincarnate, together.

#adventure time #together again #my art #finn the human #finn mertens #jake the dog #distant lands

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 days

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WIBTA for breaking up with my boyfriend because he likes my body?

TW for ED but please hear me out:

My bf (30m) and I (28f) have been together for a little over 5 years. When we got together I had an extremely stressful and physically demanding job. Shortly after our relationship started I relapsed with an eating disorder that had been a problem since prepubescence; I started restricting heavily at age 11 and had struggled with it on/off since then.

After quitting that terrible job and regaining some agency in my life, I spent a couple of years really focused on recovery. Without giving specific numbers (cause triggering) I'll say that I was extremely underweight to an unhealthy level for at least a year and experienced severe health complications because of it. I nearly died from heart problems and had a big wakeup call that caused me to change my whole life. I've done the work of recovery without medical help (history of omission with doctors) but have had support from my bf, and am currently at the highest weight of my life.

at a recent checkup my Dr talked a lot about "healthy lifestyle" and mentioned my weight gain over the past couple of years. I'm still within the "normal" range for my height and build, but the after visit summary/chart notes denoted risk of becoming overweight. Idk if my Dr would have brought it up if my history of ED was in my chart, (and I did switch primary care practices a few years ago, so they weren't treating me at my thinnest) but it still shook me a bit and I will admit to feeling very triggered.

The job I moved to is quite sedentary compared to the previous terrible one - I wfh, and very rarely have to be on my feet or do strenuous activity. In addition, I have chronic pain issues that make exercise difficult, and so historically have just restricted to maintain/lose weight because it's easier for me physically to just be hungry than to work out. I didn't want to go down that road again though because of how intense and scary it got last time.

My bf is a personal trainer and specializes in working with low ability clients and people recovering from long illness/injury. When I told him that I wanted to start exercising more often and get a good cardio routine going, he was really excited and started immediately putting together an "action plan" (what he calls it w his clients idk) for me. Then he mentioned how I'd need to add on a bunch of meal supplements and snacks to avoid losing weight and I got upset.

We're a plant-based (vegan) household and live with a roommate (bf's friend) so mostly eat/cook communal dinners and have various breakfast & lunch plans on hand, so we already eat pretty healthy and make sure to have a good balance of macro/micro in the meal plan. My intent was to eat the same but increase my activity level to get out of the danger zone without restricting. I don't generally snack and rarely eat dessert, just the 3 squares.

I told my bf that I needed to lose weight and be more active according to my doctor, and that I wasn't comfortable with having protein supplements, smoothies, and snacks in addition to regular meals because that would defeat the purpose. He got really sad and said that he likes the way my body is now, and while he supports being more active, he doesn't want the size of me to change. His exact words at some point were "you look so good now, I love the amount of you that there is and I like the way you jiggle." It kind of made me feel sick and wonder if he has like a secret size fetish or something?

So I've been thinking of breaking things off with him and moving in with a friend or back in with my parents, but idk if this is actually a red flag or just the disorder talking? He did help me a lot with recovery but if he's going to keep me from being healthy or wants me to gain even more weight then maybe it's better to leave - would this be an asshole move? I honestly don't know.

#aita #am i the asshole #eating disorder cw

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mrsbarnesblog · 7 months

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i can't let you get hurt

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: You have just moved to New York, where your adopted brother Steve has been living for 5 years. Desperate to make new friends, you give the dating app another go. You didn’t even think that you would have to ask for help from the person who has not left your thoughts for the past month - your brother’s best friend.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: fluff, reader is Steve's adopted sister, mechanic Bucky, creepy behaviour, protective Bucky.

Author's note: Does anyone know if community labels are reducing the number of likes and reblogs? because my last post received a suspiciously small amount of notes🤔 but I'm afraid to remove them because Tumblr might decide to block me again

Moving to New York was the idea that has been sitting in your head for a long period of time. Since your adopted brother Steve finished high school, he moved there without any money, without friends, and only with a lot of desires and dreams. You stayed in your small town with your and Steve’s adopted parents because you were only fifteen at the time. It’s been almost five years, and right now he owns an auto repair shop, and as far as you know, it’s a pretty successful place.

You knew that you had nothing to lose; you had no opportunities in your city, no close friends, and it was a really boring and gray life.

Steve only visited you two times, but you regularly spoke on the phone. So when your plane finally landed and you met him, you were kind of a crying mess. He was still your closest person, and you loved him with your whole heart. Steve was now much bigger, with broad shoulders and arms that were probably the same size as your head, but he still had that golden retriever energy, which you really loved.

Steve helped you find your apartment building, where you rented a small and cozy flat from a nice old lady. It wasn’t too much—just a bedroom and living room connected with a tiny kitchen and bathroom. Everything was clean, with light furniture and a lot of plants. It was actually surprising that this place had an affordable rent, and you were happy that luck was on your side.

On the next day, your brother finally showed you his famous place, which he owned with his now best friend Bucky Barnes. And talking about him, he was something else. A tall, big man with fluffy chocolate hair, stubble, and the most beautiful blue eyes you've ever seen. You knew that you were fucked as soon as he looked you directly in the eyes, shook your hand, and gave you a charming smile.

You met almost everyone in the garage. All the guys were super nice and friendly, they even showed you all of their cars that they were working with. You were happy that Steve found such a family here, they were all obviously so close to each other.

Yet, after a month here, you had almost no friends. You found a job in the coffee shop down the street, where you met an amazing redhead girl named Wanda. You chatted a lot during the work, but you two were still far from friends.

That's how you ended up here. On a date with John.

For some reason, you decided to give that stupid dating app another try. John found you there, and he seemed nice, so when on the second day he decided to invite you to a bar, you agreed without hesitation.

How long has it been since the last time someone asked you out? Year? Yes, it was a little sad to realize that no one was particularly interested in you. Before moving to New York, all the guys you talked to seemed to only want one thing, so you had high hopes for John.

Your evening went well at first. You ordered a drink and chatted. He really seemed nice. After the second drink, you decided to stop for a bit because the alcohol started to make you feel dizzy, even though John was persuading you to taste more of the cocktails that he had brought you .

"You know, I think I better slow down with drinks; I really don’t want to be drunk and embarrass myself on the first date." You pushed your glass back a little, smiling politely.

"Oh, c'mon, baby, don’t upset me." John chuckled and put his hand on yours. You awkwardly smiled, not ready for such physical contact. "You’re here alone, right?" He tilted his head, and you didn't miss how his eyes stopped at your boobs.

"Um, not exactly... I mean, I know like five people in this city, and one of them is my brother. But we don’t live together; he has his own life." John nodded his head and leaned a little closer to you.

"So it means that we can have some fun, right, baby?"

"Fun?"

"Mhm." One of his hands stayed on top of yours, and the other one suddenly fell on your leg. Your body tensed at the feeling of his fingers as they started to rub the bare skin of your inner thigh. You definitely didn’t expect it to happen. "I’ll take an Uber; we’ll go to my place, and we can continue our night. What do you think?"

"I didn’t want to—I mean, that’s not what I was looking for—I thought that we were going to just talk and drink, you know…" You tried to take his hand off of you, but his grip only became harder.

"Don’t try to run away now, baby." He grinned. "You dressed up for me, huh? Your tight little dress that shows your boobs says it all. You just want me." You felt goosebumps all over your body because of his look. It was intense and not as innocent as it was before. You felt disgusted because of his words. You wanted to look good, yes, but seducing him wasn’t part of your plan.

So what are you going to do now? You felt unsafe, and you didn’t know how you could escape this situation. He was obviously a creep, and he just wanted to have sex with you. You can’t go home because either he won't let you go or he might find out where you live.

"O-okay- um- just let me- I’ll go to the restroom real quick, and we can go, okay?" You nervously smiled and stood up, almost spilling your cocktail.

"Someone’s excited, huh?" He laughed, looking at your body up and down.

You left without an answer. You really went to the restroom because the bar was half empty, and John would’ve definitely seen you going out. Luckily, the restroom was empty. You locked the door and looked at yourself in the mirror for a few seconds, trying to figure out what to do.

You reached into your purse to get your phone. The first person that came to mind was Steve. Only long beeps were heard, and after the third call, you gave up.

"Fuck, Steve, I really need you right now." You scrolled through your contacts again. It wasn’t a lie that you knew five people from New York. Steve was not answering his phone. Your neighbor Natasha and Wanda from work, were not your close friends, so it would’ve been weird to call them because of this. There was a number of an old lady who rented you an apartment, and she was obviously not an option. And there was another person.

Bucky.

Calling him in this situation was the last thing you wanted to do. Hell, he probably won’t even answer you because he thinks that you’re just his best friend’s little sister, and he’ll definitely make fun of you about this stupid date. But you had no other variants.

"Hello?" He picked up his phone almost immediately, and you even forgot what you wanted to say. "Y/N? Are you okay?" His deep voice was full of worry, and you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"H-hey, Bucky. Um… I’m really, really sorry that I’m calling you, but Steve is not picking up his phone. Do you know where he is?" You walked around the small room, trying to calm down.

"Yeah, he’s meeting with some girl he's been talking about for days. He’s probably really busy right now." He chuckled, and you felt like you were about to cry. Bucky must’ve heard your breathing change because he immediately went silent. "Doll? What happened?"

"My God, it’s so stupid…" You squeezed your eyes, not wanting to cry.

"Tell me."

"I’m at the bar. I’m on a date with a guy named John, and he became very persistent. He wants me to go to his place, but It’s- I’m not interested in this. And I can't just leave because I’m afraid that he can follow me and find out where I live… fuck I really don’t know what to do, and I wanted to ask Steve to pick me up." Your phone stayed silent for a few moments, and you already thought that he got tired of your mess and just ended the call. "Bucky?"

"Where are you? What bar? Are you in the restroom?" His voice was low, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with all of this.

"It’s that new place a few blocks away from my crib. With big neon red signs at the top. And I’m in the restroom right now."

"I’ll be there in five. Stay there and don’t open the door until you know it’s me." He said that and ended the call, leaving you nervous and excited at the same time.

The loud knock on the door almost made you jump. Fastly, but quietly, you reached there and tried to listen for any signs of who it could be.

"I hear you. Open the door; it’s me." The familiar voice came from behind the door.

You opened the door and met Bucky’s beautiful blue eyes. He seemed a little bit out of breath, as if he had run here. You quickly scanned his body, and the fact that he was wearing your favorite leather jacket made you weak in the knees. His dark brown locks that curled at the ends almost asked you to touch them. It was not your fault that this idiot always looked ridiculously hot every single time.

"C’mon, let’s get you home, doll." He grabbed your hand, leading you out of the bathroom to the bar, where you immediately saw a clearly annoyed John. You saw that Bucky looked at him too, but he stopped only when you were already on the street and when your bad date ran after you, loudly calling your name.

"Hey! Where the fuck are you going? We were supposed to go to my place! You already found someone else to fuck or what?" He yelled, grabbing your other hand at the same time. You felt Bucky quickly move you behind him while still holding your wrist.

"Don’t fucking touch her. She’s leaving, and if I ever see you near her again, I'll rip your useless hands off. Understood?" Bucky growled, straightening his body. He was obviously bigger than John, who was now less brave. John looked at you for a few seconds as he was thinking about what he should say to you, but then just turned around and left. Apparently, you weren't worth it.

You didn’t know whether it was the cool night air or this whole tense situation that made you tremble. You felt Bucky’s warm body get closer to you, and his large, calloused hand rested on your shoulder. It made you feel a little bit fuzzy because you were trying so hard to hide your little (big) crush on your brother’s best friend. Yeah, it was the biggest cliche, but you couldn’t even blame yourself. He was extremely beautiful, with those blue eyes, rosy lips, and a body that you knew was built like God's. Not to mention that Bucky was sweet and a true gentleman.

"You’re shaking, doll. Wait a second." He started to take off his jacket, and you tried to stop him.

"Bucky, no, what are you doing? You don’t have to; it’s not even that cold!" He just playfully rolled his eyes and still threw a jacket over your shoulders, leaving himself only in the tight black shirt. God, this man.

A sudden wave of his cologne surrounded you. Bucky always smelled good. Something clean with a spicy and woody scent. The leather was still warm from his body, and you fought against the desire to bury your nose in it. You didn't even realize that you actually did it, so when you opened your eyes, you saw Bucky, who had this annoying grin on his face.

"So you like it, huh?" He chuckled.

"Oh, shut up. I didn't want to do that."

"Of course, doll. But we should go, I have to take you home safely, right?" Bucky said, leading you to the parking lot. To a motorcycle.

"A motorcycle?" You asked Bucky as you stepped closer to him. "No, I—where’s your car? I’ve never ridden on one of those." He had already sat there and had two helmets in his hands.

"I left it in the garage and didn’t want to make you wait here for too long. But you don’t have to worry; I know what I'm doing, and I'll take care of you. I promise." You came closer to him and let him put a helmet on you. You really tried not to tremble as his hands gently fixed it under your chin. "Now sit behind me and put your legs here." He pointed at the weird looking thing.

You felt weird as soon as you sat in the passenger seat. Bucky was so close, and you could feel the warmth of his body even if it was cold outside. Where should I put my hands? Hug him? Put it behind me? You awkwardly placed it on your own legs, and Bucky must’ve immediately felt your tense body because you heard a chuckle, and the next moment he grabbed your hands and put it around his waist. "You should put it right here, doll. You don’t wanna fall, do you?"

You slightly shook your head before you placed it on his back. It was really hard to control yourself when your hands were laying on his hard press. For fuck’s sake, he should be perfect everywhere, huh?

"Hold on tight, Darlin'." You heard another deep chuckle, and he finally put his helmet on.

You don't know how long you were driving, but when Bucky finally pulled up outside your apartment building, you felt sad and happy at the same time. The ride was something else. This man almost gave you a heart attack when you stopped at a red light and he put his hand on your bare leg and asked if you were okay.

He’s just being nice, stop overthinking this.

You knew Bucky for only one month, but it was hard not to fall for him. He was an attractive, kind, and really generous man; you knew that he was like a part of Steve's family. Sometimes, when you visited your brother and accidentally met Bucky, for a few seconds you thought that maybe he finds you attractive. You always caught him looking at you.

But you knew this type of guy—always charming and flirting—who could have pretty much anyone. It was stupid of you to think that he saw you as something more than just Steve’s little sister.

"See, I told you that I was a good driver and that you'd get home safely." He hopped off the motorcycle and stood before you while you were trying to take the helmet off. "Let me unlock it."

"Thank you, Bucky." You said when you were finally free. "For this, for the jacket... You were probably very busy, and I just ruined your night by making you take care of me. Oh my god, I’m really sorry. I just wanted to forget about one person, and I thought that going on that stupid date would be a good idea, but it seems like the only thing that men want here is sex." You chuckled and watched to the ground.

"Now listen to me, doll." Bucky suddenly stepped closer to you, and you almost fainted when both of his hands took your face and forced you to look him right in the eyes. "You shouldn’t apologize for calling me. I was just hanging out with the guys from the garage, but as soon as you called me, I left everything because I can’t let you get hurt." He nervously licked his lips, and you hope that he didn’t notice how you stared at this movement. Bucky’s hands left your face and ended up on your upper arms. Did he come closer to me? "I don’t know who you were trying to forget about, but I hope that he or she is worth your time."

"We– we’re not really close. I’m probably not even his type." You shrugged. Bucky’s jaw clenched, and he buried his hands in the jeans pockets, as if he was angry and tried not to show you. As soon as he made a distance between you two, you body started trembling.

"Is it someone from the garage?" His head was a little bit tilted to the side, and you knew that right now he wouldn’t shut up about it until you gave him a name. "Maybe Sam? Or Thor? Many girls like him, you know. Do you like show-offs like Stark? Or…"

"You."

You both were silent.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. What were you thinking?

"Say it again." Your throat felt dry, and you just stared at him, not knowing what to do.

"I– Just forget about it, Bucky. It’s stupid–"

You weren't able to finish because a soft pair of lips interrupted you. One of Bucky’s hands cupped your face, lifting you up to his level, and another one laid on your waist. He was soft, warm, and gentle when his lips moved on top of yours. Your head was in the clouds, and it felt like your knees became weaker. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck, completely melting into him. He wanted to stay like this forever. Your skin and your lips were so soft, he could smell your perfume and taste your sweet lip gloss. But he knew that he should stop and do it the right way. After a few seconds, he finally pulled away, but he put his forehead on yours, and it was so cozy, like you two were in a bubble.

"I’m sorry. Was this too much? I overstepped?" He licked his lips as if he were trying to get more of your taste. "I have been thinking about asking you out since the day I saw you. I wanted to do it right. To take you on a date, to be the gentleman that you deserve, and maybe get a kiss on the cheek at the end of the night. Sorry. I didn’t even know that you liked me." Bucky wrapped his hands around your waist, and you nuzzled into his neck, enjoying his scent.

"And I didn’t know that you liked me either. I thought that you felt obligated to take care of me because I'm your best friend’s sister."

"No, I promise you." He kissed the top of your head. "But Steve’s gonna kill me, by the way. He told all of us that you’re not an option and that we can’t touch you."

"Well, I love him, but he can’t decide for me."

"So… Does this mean that you’ll say ‘yes’ if I ask you to go on a date with me? On Sunday, maybe?" You lifted your head to look at him properly, and God, he was so cute when he was nervous.

"Of course, Buck, I wanna go out with you." You smiled at him, and he lowered himself again to give you another sweet kiss on the lips.

"Fuck, you should go home, doll. You’re too sweet for your own good. Wanna keep you all for myself." He mumbled against your lips. "Go."

"Goodnight, Bucky. Please text me when you get home, ‘kay?"

"I will. Goodnight, Doll." You left a soft kiss on his stubbled cheek before finally turning around to go home.

Only at home did you realize that you were still wearing his jacket. At least it was a good excuse for Bucky to see you again sooner. That night, you both ended up texting for hours until you couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Maybe a date with John wasn’t that bad of an idea.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #marvel #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine

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wildestdreamsblog · 7 months

Text

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Here we go <3

Masterlist, Part I of __

"Oh my God," someone from his right gasped loudly. "God really has favorites!"

Kim Seokjin blinked owlishly as he patiently waited for the elevator door to open. It was too early in the morning for someone to be this loud, or for someone to have this amount of energy. In fact, he thought it was peculiar. Despite him being the most handsome and perfect man on this whole planet with a godlike body proportion, clear skin, the most expressive eyes, and despite him being the genius that he was, and well, despite him being flawless in everything that he did, he could not for the life of him be that energetic when it was six in the morning. For heaven's sake, he still hadn't gotten his coffee.

Jin simply did not have the energy to deal with this person.

"Good thing you're a doctor!"

Jin took the deepest breath known to man, before breaking his intense and angry eye contact with the elevator. He noted that he would have the whole system replaced by Jungkook's company. The time was just unacceptable, he thought. Besides, he hadn't gotten enough beauty sleep last night because he stayed up late patching up the man Taehyung was torturing and the asshole called him at a godforsaken hour just because he didn't want the fun (also known as Tae’s torture) to end just yet.

What a psycho, he thought.

Well, they all were, he surmised. They just hid the madness in order to blend well with the society. He meant, who would even think that the beloved and heavily awarded actor was a high-functioning psychotic shit? Kim Taehyung was just that- a master manipulator when it came to emotions. They all had their own talents, though.

"I'm sorry?" he asked in the voice he used to communicate with his difficult patients. When he turned, he could have sworn you were really a patient if not for the white robe and identification card that you were wearing. He thought you looked like someone who escaped from the ward with the way your hair was haphazardly and carelessly tied in a bun, the bags under your eyes looked heavy that he almost recoiled. It was as though you and a peaceful night of sleep were strangers

He read your name and the department that you were working in.

Department of Psychiatry.

"How can I help, Doctor Y/N? Do you need medical assistance of any sorts?"

Your smile got even wider, and he was almost certain you were losing it. However, to you, you were just elated to hear your name passed his plump lips. Ah, you thought, you really loved working here. You were on the verge of transferring to the hospital your professor owned in the province. He had been attempting to pry you from this hospital, and you were ready to say yes. In fact, you already filed your resignation.

How could you say no to a seventy-percent increase? To a greener grass? To being able to afford to pay loans your family unfortunately passed onto you and buy your basic necessities?

Well, this face would do it.

"Yes. I feel a shortness of breath and you're to blame. You just took my breath away..." you explained, the smile still present on your face. The elevator dinged open, and you waved at the frozen medical director, the highest position in this hospital, with a glee. You entered the glass box, waiting for him to get in. "The medical director will hear about this!" you playfully scolded him

Alas, it looked like you broke him today.

He was still looking at the spot you had just vacated as though his mind circuited. On the other hand, you were on your way to take back your resignation. You just found your reason to stay. You were waving at the man blushing profusely enthusiastically as the door was closing, and yet he remained there.

Ah, what a good morning indeed, you thought.

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand and for the first time in his whole life, was taken aback by the reckoning force that you were.

That day marked your entrance into his life, whether he wanted you to be in it or not. And well, that day unknowingly sealed your fate. You couldn’t leave his life, whether you wanted to or not.

You became a somehow...permanent fixture in his life.

“Tadaa!”

Kim Seokjin jumped when he heard your voice for the first time today. He didn’t even have to turn to know it was you- you made sure that your voice alone was etched in his genius brain. He was always on guard when you were near, and fuck, even if you weren’t. It was like he had an internal alarm when you were near that kept screaming that there was a foreign substance near him, rendering him a different man. One that was not confident, one that always seemed to blush when you were near and he loathed it!

He was perfect and he was used to being in control with his emotions! What was this atrocity! How was a person such as you managed to disable his flight-or-fight instinct?

Jin blinked owlishly at the steaming cup of coffee you were eagerly presenting to him. It was his from his most favored coffee shop, he noted. It was off the way to the hospital.

And it was still hot.

It was six in the morning.

What time did you wake up for this?

“I know you must be tired from that six-hour surgery,” you noted lightly, smiling up at him. He looked good in scrubs and you couldn’t help the heat rushing through your cheeks when he met your eyes. “I thought you needed coffee. I asked your staff and they said this is your favorite.”

See, every time you talked, his brain just circuited and he didn’t know why. Although he possessed extraordinary genius, he still couldn’t find the reason why. He was not a bubbling mess. No! He was the image of perfection!

“I don’t…drink coffee.”

Idiot, he thought. Why did he say that?! You saw him several times with a coffee in his hand. Your elated expression fell immediately, the glint in your eyes fading. He was beating himself inside when the door opened behind him, his colleague, Doctor Seong-Min walking out and he immediately saw you.

“Oh! My favorite doctor!” he greeted you as almost everyone in the hospital knew of you because of your extrovert personality and high energy.

“Good morning, Doctor Seong-Min,” you greeted politely, though the tone of your voice was definitely knocked down. “You were in the surgery with Doctor Jin, right?”

He nodded before slapping Jin’s back once, “This man right here saved the patient twice. He definitely didn’t give up on-“

“Do you like coffee?” you cut him off, your exhaustion from your shift plus the trip you took to buy him coffee was now taking a toll on you and you wanted nothing but to sleep on your own bed.

“Yes?”

“For you! Have a good day, doctors!” you waved at them before walking away. Ahh, your mind was filled with thoughts of food and sleep. Finally, your day off!

Kim Seokjin’s mind, on the other hand, was filled with panic that he hurt your feelings and also anger to the doctor that was now about to sip the coffee.

“Give me that!” he hissed, pulling the coffee away from the equally exhausted colleague of his.

“What?! No! I need coffee!”

“This is mine!”

“She gave this to me-“

“No. Mine,” he announced as he successfully wrestled the coffee away from the confused doctor. “Okay, goodbye.”

#yandere bts #bts yandere #bts fic #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin yandere #yandere kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x y/n #bts mafia

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personasintro · 1 year

Text

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.

⏤𝘱��𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 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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charlie-lec-stories · 2 months

Text

Out the comfort zone // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Sensitive matters should always be addressed with kindness, tactfulness and pinch of fun.

Warnings: Sexual comments and conversations, but from a mature and funny perspective.

Author’s Note: This story is about communication. Since our favourite trio relays a lot on it, this time you'll have the chance to witness them discuss a really sensitive matter on their relationship. Rate: +18 (Sexual topics)

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"No, no, no, no, no, no. This is not working, Max".

"Maybe if you move your leg to the left, Schat".

"What do you think I am, a gymnast?".

"Well, you are pretty flexible, Amour. Just open your legs wider. I can go behind you".

"This is getting kind of personal, guys, I don't think I want to be a part of this anymore".

"Oscar, don't be a baby".

"He is a baby, Amour".

"I'm 23!".

Lando, George and Alex couldn't believe what they were hearing. It wasn't enough for them to do the dirty together, they also had to mix Oscar into it. As the three of them walked further into the apartment, they found Oscar's hoodie on the floor, and the sound of Max grunting wasn't helping with the picture they were already making in their minds.

"I swear to God, I'm not that flexible. I mean, when it’s just us three, it's easier, but I think that four is just too much. Sorry Oscar, it’s not your fault".

"Way to make a man feel rejected...".

"I really am sorry. But if we keep going like this, I'm going to fall and my ass is going to hurt for days'.

Okay, maybe they should make their presence known. Looking at each other, George understood that he should be the one taking the lead.

"Hey guys, are you home?". He asked, but Lando just couldn't keep quiet.

"Please, tell me you haven't corrupted my teammate yet. He's just a baby!".

Walking into the living room, the three drivers were surprised by what they found. Tangled in a Twister mat, the other four were barely keeping their bodies up. Actually, Y/N was the first one to give up, falling butt first to the floor and taking Oscar down with her, who kicked Charles' right arm, making the monegasque lose balance and take down Max with him.

"Why is it that I can never guess it right when it comes to you three?". Lando asked, rhetorically. Every time he guessed they were doing nothing, he walked on them taking their clothes off, and every time he thought that they were having a private moment, they were just doing something completely innocent.

"Maybe you just think it too much". Max replied, smirking at the disgusted face Lando made. Oscar, Charles and Max got up, Y/N staying laying on the floor, legs and arms extended and exhausted look on her face. Everyone looked at her, expecting her to get up.

"Don't worry, I'll get up when I start feeling my legs again... Man, I hate Twister". She sighed. Oscar took his chance to get back at her.

"And I'm the baby...".

They all had dinner together, and after the guys went away, Max and Charles cleaned the kitchen while Y/N fixed the living room. She carefully folded the mat while listening to the boys chatting in the kitchen. They were discussing something about Carlos. Apparently, the spaniard had a fight with his girlfriend about anal sex. She found it weird that Charles and Max were open enough to talk about it knowing that she was around. It wasn't like she didn't know what they both did when they were alone, but they were never straight forward about either. She kept listening to the conversation. It seemed like Carlos' girlfriend was scared of trying it, and he took it as if she didn't trust him enough to do that with him. But she wasn't interested in what Carlos and his girlfriend did, she cared about what Charles and Max thought about the situation.

The thing is, they had their own ways of approaching sex and those ways were kind of limited. Mostly because of her. She was scared, as Carlos' girlfriend, of getting hurt while doing new things, and even if she had boyfriends before them, she was a little vanilla with them. It was a big jump going from one person to thinking about two at the same time. So the boys were patient, they "took turns" so she wouldn't be too overwhelmed with the situation. More than once she thought about how boring it must be for the one waiting, watching the other two have fun while he had to wait, and whenever those thoughts crossed her mind she felt the need to broaden her comfort zone a little bit.

She concentrated on the conversation again. Max explained that he could empathize with Carlos' point of view, it would hurt him a little to know that Charles or Y/N wouldn't try with him something they wanted to do thinking they could get hurt. He was clear with that: when you love someone, you don't let them get hurt, and you never, ever, hurt them yourself. Charles was little more on the girlfriend's side, he remembered the first time he let Max do that, and he was scared shitless, he also reminded Max that he begged Charles to go easy on him when it was his turn, and with that reminder, Max gave some more credit to the girlfriend's argument. It seemed like they both understood, not only for having been in that position before, but also from an empathetic side, how vulnerable it could be to let someone do that to you. She felt relieved.

"Hey, can I ask you guys about something?". She asked later that night, looking at her lap. They were getting ready for bed, Max was brushing his teeth and Charles was changing his jeans for a more comfortable pair of shorts. They both looked at her, curious about what she could be thinking about. She had been pretty quiet since the guys left.

"Sure, Amour. What is it?". Charles walked to the bed and sat down, placing his hand on her leg and running it up and down, easing her anxiety a bit. Max rushed up his routine so he could focus completely on her, going to the bed as fast as he could.

"I've been thinking about something. About us". Max didn't like the sound of that, he loved what they had too much, he didn't want to break up. "I know that we don't do a lot here". She patted the bed and they frowned at the same time.

"What do you mean, Schat?". He smirked at the thought of everything they had done on that bed. "We do a lot here".

"I mean, yes, we do, but it's how we do it". They weren't following her and it was frustrating. "I want us to do things together, the three of us, but it scares me. Every time I think about it, this fear of getting hurt paralyzes me".

"You mean that you want us to do things to you... together?". Charles was trying to be as polite as he could about the subject, Max was a little more direct.

"This is the type of conversation I like to have in bed. Who cares about the last episode of The Last of Us?". Y/N laughed under her breath, the pink on her cheeks softening a few tones.

"We can try whatever you want, Amour, as long as you feel comfortable. You're the one that will get the roughest part, we know that, that's why we never asked for more and waited for you to bring it up". That made her feel safer.

"We will always take care of you. We promise". She knew that Max was sincere.

"So, how do we do this?". The boys looked at each other, their eyes wide open.

"You want to try this now?". Charles asked and she nodded.

"Yes! I waited for this moment my whole life". Max exclaimed happily as he took off his shirt.

"Mate, calm down or you'll be the one getting it". Charles did what he could, but there was no cure for Max. If there was something that he had been waiting for was for the moment they all three did something together.

"I didn't know his love for butts extended this far". They watched Max go to the bathroom, looking for lubes and oils that would make the process a lot easier.

Charles just sat with her, holding her hand and smiling at her. Y/N and Charles had a different sexual history together than each of them had with Max. They started dating first and that meant that they started sleeping together before they added Max to the equation. Charles knew what, how and when she liked things. He knew her like the back of his hand, and had a different approach to intimacy than Max had. They were pretty equal in bed, but she usually let him take the lead of the situation and it was a wise decision, since he never guessed wrong what she wanted to do. Max was different, he worshiped her, he would do whatever she'd ask for if it meant pleasing her. That meant that she was the one taking the lead and he followed her like a warrior on a crusade. She didn't know what they were like when they were alone, for what she heard from them once in a while, they switched a lot, it all depending on their moods at the moment. When the three of them were together, Charles would usually go first, helping her relax and carry the situation, Max watching and doing little to no interventions. Then the Dutchman would follow with Charles still in the picture, but more coming from a caring side, taking care of them. He had a protective side that never rested and always shone with them.

Max gave Charles the space to ease Y/N's nervousness, while he decided to go to the living room for some scented candles and his speaker, already thinking on which playlist they should use to make the situation more relaxing for her. Charles took his time setting the mood, kissing and caressing every place of skin exposed before starting with her clothes. She was grateful that they didn't jump on her the minute she agreed to try this, instead they took the time to help her feel comfortable and, more importantly, loved. Once every piece of clothing was off, Charles looked at Max, a silent conversation about how Max could enter the picture as smoothly as possible. They decided for him to do something that Charles usually does: massages. So while Charles kept her busy, Max took one of the oils and gently started massaging the knots on her shoulders, easing the tension. They both knew the process, they knew what they had to do for her to be ready, so they just made sure to be open and verbal about what they were going to do before doing anything.

"It's going to hurt, you'll feel some pressure, Schat. It's normal, you just have to relax". Max told her after her and Charles had already been going at it for a while, as he carefully moved her legs to position her comfortably on top of Charles. "If you feel like you can't keep going, you tell me and I stop immediately, okay?". She nodded, still a little tense, even if she was worked up. Charles, under her pulled her flush against him, letting her rest her weight on him and running his hands up and down her sides.

"We need words, Amour, you know it". It was a rule that they had, nothing without explicit consent, specially new things.

"Yes, I understand. I want to do it". She sighed and prepared herself, focusing on Max's hand caressing her lower back.

It hurt, it took her some time to get used to it, she even let a few tears run down her cheeks. The boys stopped moving a few times to give her time, they whispered some comforting words to her and kissed her discomfort away. But she ended up liking it, once the pain was not there anymore, once she felt how connected she was to both of them in that moment, she realized that she was right on stepping out of her comfort zone. She had never seen them as happy as she saw them in that moment, Charles locking eyes with her from underneath her, Max's smile against the back of her shoulder as his hand grabbed Charles', both squeezing each other's hand tightly. It was special and it was great, two things she before feared the moment wouldn't be. She was glad that they all did that together.

"How do you feel, Amour?". Charles asked her as soon as he recovered from his post sex dizziness. She felt Max moving away from her, lifting his weight so she could move if she needed to, but she needed him close, so she grabbed his arm and pulled him back on top of her. Charles let out a huff when Max's weight fell on them again, being the one holding everyone on top of him was hard, but he wouldn't rather be anywhere else. Max chuckled at his huff and Charles slapped the back of his head, but ended up joining his boyfriend in the laughing fit. They stayed like that for a while, just close while their hearts went back to a normal rhythm.

"What about a bath, Schat? I think it'd be good for you". She let out a quiet 'yes', Max then getting up and walking to the bathroom. Charles took his time with the massages, working on all the new muscles she had used and were in need of care. When the water was ready, he helped her up and she went to the bathroom. While she relaxed, Max and Charles cleaned up. They changed the bed sheets, took all the candles, oils and lubes to their places and prepared some tank top and cotton panties for her to dress up with. She stayed there until the water got cold, and with still some discomfort, she got out and wrapped herself in a towel, emptying the tub before walking out. She dried and dressed herself quickly, and joined the boys on the bed, taking her spot in the middle. The tiredness on their faces was notorious, but they put on the effort to stay awake to make sure she was alright.

"You might feel a little sore in the morning". Charles said and then kissed her shoulder, his hand on her hip, on top of Max's.

"But the bright side is that you get breakfast in bed because of that". She giggled at Max's comment.

"I might do this with you every night if it gets me breakfast in bed in the mornings". She joked, but Max was grinning like he won the lottery. "I'm joking".

"Don't play like that with my heart". His smile dropped and she felt Charles shaking with laughter behind her.

"You seriously love butts".

"They are one of the best features of you guys, after your arms and Y/N's boobs". The other two looked at him holding their laughter. "What?"

"Bueno, para gustos, colores". Y/N said and snuggled up by bringing Max closer. They were used to her chanting some Argentinian sayings at them and they learned what most of them meant. This one meant that it was pointless to discuss personal preferences. "Thank you for being so good to me". She said after a while. "You have no idea how important it is for me that this moment went on this great".

"We love so much, Schat. You don't have to thank us for these things. We'd bring down the moon and stars for you".

"Je vous aime, mes chéris". (I love you, loves)

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Hey, I'm back with lestappen x reader. Hope you guys like it. I'm thinking about working a bit with smut, but from a more subtle and delicate perspective. What do you guys think about that? Would you like more content like that?

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc imagines #lestappen imagine #lestappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #max vestappen one shot

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mavrintarou · 11 months

Text

[5:32PM] Uchiha Itachi

It's his birthday tomorrow but I wanted to be early.

Warning: I'm pretty sure we can all agree that Itachi's got a breeding kink; c'mon... look at the man... he screams it. So - explicit smut; soft Itachi; maybe, obsessed Itachi? .

Itachi stared at his wife as she read her novel comfortably on the couch, the book he tagged with her to the bookstore yesterday, and she was already halfway through it.

She laid on her back, taking up the long couch. With one book in her hand, the other rests on her abdomen.

Itachi’s lips curved into a small smile as he shook his head. Lately, he had been consumed by the idea of starting a family.

Especially after witnessing Y/n’s interactions with Shisui’s newborn baby, Itachi couldn’t help but feel a deep longing to start their own family finally. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were more than prepared to embrace parenthood.

Rising from his seat, Itachi gently placed his book aside and approached Y/n, who seemed lost in thought. Taking the book from her hand, he set it beside his own. Y/n’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked at him and her book, silently questioning his unexpected gesture. “Itachi?”

“Let’s have a baby.”

“Itachi,” she raised an eyebrow, her voice filled with surprise and amusement, “are you suggesting we have a baby right now?”

He nodded, his expression serious. “Yes, precisely, let’s make a baby. Now.”

Y/n pushes herself onto her elbows, playfully narrowing her eyes at him. “Who are you, and what have you done to my husband?”

Itachi sits on the couch and rests his face against her bosom. “I’ve always desired a family,” he confessed softly, “but I never wanted to rush you into it.” He slips a hand inside her shirt, feels for her breast, and groans when she isn’t wearing a bra. He hears her breath hitched as he massages and gropes her breast. Her nipple immediately puckered, and he rubbed the nub. “I’ve been imagining how your tits will be filled with milk and how you would nurse our baby.” He nips her breast through her shirt, leaving a wet bite mark. He pushes her shirt to expose her breasts and swirls his tongue around her nipple. “And me, too.” He takes it into his mouth, suckling like how a baby would.

“’Tachi…” she breathed, “I have been ready for a long time too now but…” she looked away, blushing, “but you keep using condoms every time.”

He releases her nipple, satisfied at how swollen it’s become. He shifts to the other nipple that’s already puckered, begging for the same attention. “Looks like the both of us have wasted time because we just didn’t communicate.”

Y/n covers her mouth to prevent herself from moaning. “I want to know what it feels like to have you cum inside me.”

Itachi sat up, gently pulling Y/n upward. His eyes held a gentle intensity as he spoke, “then allow me to demonstrate it to you.”

Y/n’s breath trembled as she watched him align his cock to her pussy. It was unbelievable to think that they had never had raw sex before. Itachi was always careful, wearing a condom each time.

He teased the wet tip against her slit, rubbing himself until she groaned in frustration. Itachi chuckled softly and pushed the tip, and thrust in one hit.

The room is immediately filled with flesh slapping flesh as Itachi wastes no time; his goal is to breed his beautiful wife.

This was much smoother than he expected; he feared Y/n wouldn’t be ready for parenthood. He was prepared to talk further about starting a family. Itachi felt faintly guilty, going as far as sneaking into his wife’s phone to check on her the next time she ovulates. He was glad he did not need to resort to his final plan, tampering with the condoms.

He knew he could be perceived as obsessed with his wife. She was already his wife, but that wasn’t enough. Itachi felt he needed more, something to tie her to him.

And a baby was it.

Itachi rocked his hips, watching his cock appear and disappear. He was losing control by the second, watching how creamy his cock looked with their body fluids mixing.

His large hand grips her hips, “in a few months; these hips will bear the weight of our baby.” His eyes shift to her breasts, rotating each time he thrust hard into her. Itachi’s hands slide to grope her breasts, tweaking her rosebud nipples. “And in time, these will leak milk…”

“’Tachi…” Y/n moan, “I’m so close… hurry… I’m ready – give me your cum…”

To see Y/n speak lewdly to him, Itachi abides by his wife’s wishes.

He fastens his hips, towering over her body and pressing against her. His lips found hers, kissing her deeply.

Y/n locks her ankles around his waist, nails digging into his shoulder blades as she is brought over the edge, trembling beneath Itachi. “Itachi… ‘tachi…” she moans his name repeatedly.

All Itachi wants to hear for the rest of his life is Y/n moaning his name.

He cums seconds later, with four hard thrusts to ensure he pushes his seed as far as possible.

They both catch their breaths, and seconds later, Itachi looks down at his wife, “are you okay?”

Her lips curve, “more than okay.”

“So, how does it feel to have me cum in you?”

Y/n slaps his arm playfully at his lewd question. “… I like it,” she mutters, cheeks flushing. She bites her lower lip before combing his bangs. “But we might need to do this a few more times before we can be sure I’m pregnant.”

Itachi turned to kiss his wife’s palm, “is now too soon again?”

Her eyes widen as she feels him twitching inside her, instantly becoming hard again. She squealed, “Itachi!”

Itachi’s gaze remained fixed on the gift placed before him, his eyes lingering with curiosity and anticipation. “What is this for?”

“You’re an early birthday gift because I couldn’t wait anymore.”

A slight furrow formed on Itachi’s brows as he picked up the small box, giving it a gentle shake. “You didn’t have to give me anything; I already have you,” he remarked, untying the ribbon that held the gift together.

Y/n hummed in response, choosing to disregard his comment. She settled beside him as he finally lifted the box lid. Observing his expression closely, she watched as he looked at the tiny pair of baby’s shoes, a positive pregnancy test, and an ultrasound image of their baby.

She reached for his hand and pressed it to the flatness of her belly, “happy birthday, daddy.”

. . .

@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

#itachi smut #itachi fluff #itachi x you #itachi x y/n #itachi x reader #uchiha itachi

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sameschmidtdiffname · 2 months

Note

heyyyy can I pls req something where Mike tries to make it up to the reader after he says something wrong in their 1st fight as a couple? like “I don’t want to lose you” as an apology and they get back together or something along those lines? tysm I really enjoy ur work :))

But of course!!!

Wanting, Waiting

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: Overworked and underfed, you'll go to sleep once some decent work is complete. However, a late night turns into a day long fight.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no gender specific pronouns for Reader, pre-established relationship, argument, cursing, Reader and Mike both got some shit going on, hints of an eating disorder, overworking, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of: suicide/death, depression, drugging, and kidnapping. Vulnerability is gross.

Notes: 'Slip' walked so this could run full speed into a brick wall. I feel as though I may have redeemed myself.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

This page is mocking me.

The hour is late. I stopped checking the clock around 2:00 A.M., and there's a cup of cold coffee right next to me on this table, several rings on the inside from where the coffee had been left sitting far too long. It's cheap, the flavor sticking to my teeth in a way that settles my lips into a slight grimace as I try to convince my hand to move my pen across the just as cheap notebook paper that has been sitting in front of me since I came home.

Come on. It's words. What the fuck is hard about this?

'It's not hard if you can actually get your head out of your ass and do something,' I think to myself. Not helping.

I have an irritating collection of drafts. Oh yes, I can start them and I can certainly plan out the works before me. But actually writing is somehow impossible, and even though I can feel how thick the block is in my mind, preventing me from communicating my feelings properly, I just can't get break myself out of it.

Come on. Finish one draft. Then everything will click together for the rest.

For the past few weeks it's been just like this. Come home, sit down with projects, and try. But no matter what I do, I just can't focus. It's as though my head simply won't allow it. And this house, quite frankly, isn't helping. It's admittedly unsettling atmosphere, the loud noises born from nothing. It's as though I can feel the weight of the dead that used to sit at the same glass table as I watching me over my shoulder, pressing their non-existent weight against me, making my chest tight with pressure I cannot voice because that's not fair to the ones still here truly haunted by their presence. I'm just a guest who overextends their stay, quite frankly.

Just a page. Just write a page and you can get up for a moment. Ignore how loud the fridge is at something clunks inside of it.

A page. Get a page. Come on, you imbecile, how hard is a fucking pa-

"I thought we talked about this."

It's a testament to my mental state how high I manage to jump in my chair, my tired and over-caffinated heart set off to make me dizzy with over exertion from fear, turning to see who has come to voice their thoughts and damn us both with them.

"Mike," I sigh. I place a hand on my chest, rubbing slightly at the spot where I feel my heart pounding against my sore ribs. "Don't do that."

"Have you slept at all?" Mike asks disapprovingly. His arms are crossed against his chest, heavy bags under his eyes from another night of restless dreams. He can't sleep, I won't sleep. If he'd allow it, we could actually get shit done this time of day.

"A little," I lie. He's just worried. About everything. He always is, which at first was something I loved about him. And usually I still do. It's an admirable trait, to care about someone and love them so much it's only natural to fret over them, to check and make sure they're taken care of properly.

Except it makes me feel guilty.

"Oh yeah? What time?" He asks, narrowing his sleep swollen eyes at me.

Details. Fuck.

"Ah, uh- I don't know, I wasn't looking at the clock," I say sheepishly, trying to flash a disarming smile and make my own bags look like ones of bare minimum rest instead of self neglect. Mike's jaw tightens slightly.

"Oh?" He says in a dull voice that is not raised, yet managed to ring throughout the room nonetheless.

I hum affirmatively, pressing my lips together and fiddling with the cheap pen in my hands, glancing down at it in an attempt at trying not to give myself away.

"Yeah, I don't know. Just like, laid my head on the book and... y'know... drifted off for a couple hours," I try to say casually.

"Ah," he says as though that were enough, leaning now against the doorframe of the hallway, looking at the other wall as though the paint were interesting. "How long after I went to bed, do you think?"

Keep your breathing even. He can smell fear. "Like, a couple," I answer with a shrug.

"Or, like, not at all," he says, turning his head back to stare down at me with a glare.

"I slept," I insist.

"Bullshit. You give me unnecessary detail about your shits post mexican take-out, but you can't tell me what time you fell asleep?" He says accusingly.

"I was asleep! I'm sorry, do you want me to lie and give some time because you need it for some reason?" I ask evenly, shrugging as though to ask what he'd like me to say, blinking at him and adding a tired tinge of a croak to my voice to match his.

"I'm sorry?" He asks, eyes still in narrow slits yet somehow widening slightly, his leg uncrossing from over the other and planting firmly on the floor as he stands straight.

He's not that tall. Kinda short. But he looks much bigger when mad. Kinda like an iguana. I told him that one time and got bit. Jokingly, of course. It's not like he'd just reach over and sna- You know what? Irrelevant.

"I'm just saying," I say, starting to turn back to my notebook as though the conversation were finished.

"No-no, I'd like to hear that again," he says. I can hear his footsteps pad against the flat, tan carpet, my shoulders stiffening slightly as I train my decreasingly neutral eyes on the wrinkled, lined paper in front of me. "I liked the part where you made me sound like some insecure teenager for calling you out on your shit. Very original."

My lips press into a thin line, my grip on my pen tightening slightly.

"It's not that serious, Mikey-"

"Don't bullshit me, and don't use some cheap nickname as a cop out via sympathy," Mike snaps, standing now on the opposite side of the table, pressing his hands now against the glass surface that dirties so easily. Trust me, we've had to clean some prints off of it.

There's a line, and at some point I'm going to cross it. The problem is it's hidden under mental sand that makes me unclear of exactly where it is.

"Michael-"

"That's formal," he says, leaning forward on the table, his tone the same as an interrogating mother just waiting for the moment where no one will blame her for finally tearing you to shreds for what you've said to her outwardly innocent statements. A trap.

"I'm sorry, I thought you didn't like cheap nicknames?" I say, fighting the irritation in my voice, barely managing to remain even as I click my pen to begin writing.

"What's wrong with just Mike?" He asks. He reaches across the table, placing all five of his fingertips on my paper firmly and dragging it back across the table towards him, withholding it from me.

"Would you like me to use just Mike?" I ask.

"I'd like you to make eye contact while you lie through your fucken teeth," he says calmly, not moving as he continues to stare me down.

"Okay, Mike. And what exactly does my sleep schedule mean to you?" I ask slowly, trailing my eyes from his hand, slowly up his arm with pronounced veins and muscles, to the white cotton shirt that was two sizes too large and usually what he wore to sleep in, until I meet his dark and slightly hateful eyes.

"We had a conversation," he starts.

"A conversation," I repeat.

"About a month ago, do you remember?" He asks, cocking his head slightly in that way it does when we both know I'm not going to dare to answer with anything other than he wants.

"You ha-"

"I had a concern," he interrupts me, now looking down at the notebook and studying it as though it were a piece of fine art. "Which involved how absolutely awful your ability is to take care of yourself properly."

"Mike-"

"Shut. Up." Mike says with disturbing calmness. "I'm talking."

Fine.

"It's fucking rude."

Not saying it's not.

"Like your attitude when I try to just help you because clearly, you can't help yourself," he says, now slapping down the notebook to gesture at me as though it were obvious why he was concerned.

I could speak. I'd like to. And he gives me a long enough silence I could. But instead I decide I will simply give him the floor.

"No opinion on this?" He asks shortly.

"No," I say with a dismissive shrug. "You seem to have them for me."

Mike laughs at this statement, and if the sparkle in his eyes didn't seem to have the same dull shine as the glass table between us I'd feel a bit better about it. But I think there's a six foot hole in the backyard I just signed a lease on that makes his disturbingly convincing smile much more worrisome.

"You're funny," he says affectationately. "Get up."

"What?" I ask, blinking.

"Are you deaf now? Up," he says in irritation, beginning to cross back around the table. "This isn't a negotiation."

Before I can speak his hands dig in under my armpits, roughly pulling me to stand and bringing me close to his chest. I should have energy to fight back, I've only been sitting after all. But a physical confrontation would be too loud, first of all. Abby is asleep in her room, and I don't want to make a scene to wake the poor child. Number two, my bones are sore, my head is aching and I generally just do not feel well enough to protest. Physically.

"Put me down, you son of a bitch!"

Verbally, I'm fine.

"You're going to bed, that's final!"

"I have twelve drafts due that I have to get done or else this project-"

"You have four hours of sleep you can get before you have to take your candy ass to work in the fucken morning, or else I'm gonna beat it into you," he hisses directly in my ear, his breath cold and loud so close to me. Jesus, fuck. What did his parents feed him as a child? It shouldn't be this easy for him.

"Oh, I don't do what you want and now you threaten physical violence. Very mature," I mock, reaching out to grip the doorframe of Mike's bedroom, purely to piss him off.

"Save me the dramatics," he snaps in a whisper, wrapping one arm tighter around my waist and using the other to bat my hands away from the frame. I can tell he's genuinely trying not to hurt me, his grip on one wrist firm but careful.

"Just let me write one page," I try.

"That's what you said last night," he says, still trying to pull my hand away. My nails have dug into the frame, making it slightly harder. I can sense his irritation growing. "You got two hours of sleep."

"That's not going to kill me," I argue.

"You haven't slept for more than two hours in a week," he says.

One nail breaks against the frame, making me lose my grip and sending pain down my arm from the awkward angle at which the pressure had snapped it off. I wince slightly, which gives Mike slight pause as he checks my hand, but decides I'm alright before he begins dragging me towards the bed in earnest.

"Why is it so hard for you to just take care of yourself?" Mike asks in frustration.

"I take care of myself!" I say defensively. Mike drops me onto the bed, standing in front of me to prevent any new attempts at escape.

"No, you don't," he says, quiet but firm. "You sit and stare at your notebook and you don't do anything else if you can help it. You sleep for two hours, you go to work, you hardly eat, you don't have energy anymore." Mike's hands are planted firmly on his hips, his nostrils flailing as he tries to take collected, calm breaths. "I care about you. Why can't you?"

"Michael-"

"Stop!" Mike snaps, groaning and turning away from me with a sharp spin on his heel. He buries his hands in his hair in frustration, now pacing between the bed and the door, quietly shutting it so we can argue in peace.

"Why are you so upset?" I ask, genuinely confused.

"Because I don't want to see you live like this. I am concerned and every time I bring it up you dismiss me, you joke, you don't care and I hate that," Mike says, temporarily stopped in his tracks to point at me as he seethes. "I'm watching you waste away and you know what? I'm starting to think part of you likes it."

"Excuse me?" I say, astounded. I cross my arms in front of my chest, cocking my head at him in a way to say 'I dare you to repeat that.'

"You heard me," Mike says, taking a step towards me. "It's like you cannot for one iota of a second conceive of some world where taking care of yourself is a good use of your time. You work, and work until you've burned yourself out so horribly you rot in bed for a month. And unless you're staying here, I hear nothing from you. Not a call, not a fuck you or whatever. It's like you're punishing yourself."

"Now who's being dramatic?" I say.

"See? I can't even point this out without you getting defensive, which just shows you know you're in the wrong!" Mike turns away from me once more, resuming his path of restless walking.

"Why do you even care?" I ask genuinely. This makes him pause again, his glare once more returning to me as he mentally questions my intelligence.

"You know what, I don't know!" Mike snaps, his voice gaining volume. "You are insistent in this fucking- slow method suicide and I'm trying to help you, but you won't let me!"

"I never asked you to care," I scoff, rolling my eyes.

"I never asked to care!" Mike nearly shouts, leaning in close to my face and sneering at me.

This breaks the tension.

His face falls as soon as the words are out of his mouth, his eyes widening slightly like my own eyes. This comment shouldn't really sting. I shouldn't let it. But it does. And for a moment, I do. And he sees that clearly.

"... oh," I say softly, my arms relaxing and shoulders sagging ever so slightly as I drop his gaze, trying to shut off my emotions before they're obvious.

"I'm sorry," Mike says quickly, stumbling to his knees in front of me. "I didn't mean that-"

"It's fine," I say, trying to remain as blank as my pages on the kitchen table.

"I just said it to be hurtful," Mike says quickly, his hand reaching up to cup my face. I take it away, turning my head to the side slightly. There's a new chill in the air, one I can feel seizing my chest.

"You weren't," I say. "I'm going to sleep."

"Please, I don't want-"

"I'm going to sleep," I say forcefully, shoving him away and turning to begin undressing from my work clothes that I still wore. Mike is silent behind me, probably thinking, and I'm close to not being able to hold myself together anymore.

"Get out!" I snap, flinging my shirt at him in a rage and beginning to stand from the bed to chase him out. He doesn't need anymore prompt, quickly scurrying out from the room to wherever it is he'll sleep now. Probably on the couch even though there's another room down the hall. A self induced punishment. Knowing him he probably won't even allow himself a blanket or pillow, feeling the cold air fitting for his selfishness.

Good.

When I wake that morning, I can smell breakfast in the air. My stomach hurts from skipping meals, but I don't want to eat. First of all, I haven't worked for a meal. There's still plenty to be done with my drafts. And food is a good encouragement to keep working. Second, I didn't ask him to care. And he didn't ask for it either. There probably isn't enough for me, and if there is, he and Abby can debate between the two who will have it. I need to shower.

I take forever washing myself. If that's what you want to call it. It was moreso standing under hot water, letting it run cold until I couldn't stand it anymore and hoping my deodorant is able to do some heavy lifting today. I barely have enough time to get to work, passing silently by Mike and not turning when he calls my name, walking out the door as fast as I can without running.

He follows me outside, something shaking in a bag behind me. When I finally open my car door I'm forced to have my gaze in his direction, his body between the door frame and my car door, presenting me with a bag of lunch.

"Please eat," he begs, placing the bag in my lap unceremoniously and then quickly stepping away and shutting the door himself.

There's a small moment where he and I just share at each other through the glass, time slipping away without notice. He hasn't slept, he'll be late for work if he doesn't get dressed soon, and the bag on top of my thighs is warm. Fresh. A petty part of me wants to roll down my window and throw away the meal, back out of the drive way and let that fester in his mind out of hate. He thinks words can hurt? Actions are so much worse.

But there's something in his eyes. Defeated, resigned. Childlike is almost the word I could use. In front of my car is the 12 year old boy who tried to chase down his brother, the 18 year old who decided to sacrifice his life raising his little sister while saying goodbye to his parents, and the 27 year old man who's just trying to keep everything together.

I don't know what to say to this child. Or to the man.

So, with the turn of my key in the ignition, I don't.

It's late when I come home. When the manager had asked me to stay late I almost called Mike to break the silence and tell him this. But there was still a part of me that didn't care whether or not he knew. Really, I didn't have to return home tonight. I could go back to my apartment and just let him rot in bed the way he claims I do. How could he say such a thing, anyways? I rot in bed? What about the days I've walked into the house and he hasn't slept all week, where he's claiming he's trying to kick his medication and he'll get the hang of it soon. Where his sister is eating every meal almost burnt because he can't think straight enough to remember time. Where I've had to coax, beg, demand of him that he just takes a pill because he's laying on the side of the bed, small and curled in on himself, dead eyed and obviously tired but still not sleeping. One time I slipped it into his food. And I felt awful. Do not think for a moment I wanted to do that. There was a betrayel in his eyes when sleep began to overtake him. I hoped he wouldn't notice, but he must've. Some tell in the drugs effect that made him aware his rest was not voluntary. But I didn't care. I stroked his hair through the night, and I'll do it again. He could hate me however long he needed to, he just needed sleep first.

The irony still hasn't struck me when I walk through the door of his house, well past dinner, Abby in the bath. The door was left unlocked, which is unusual for this time of night. Mike jumps from the couch the minute I open the door, standing with his hands by his side anxiously pulling at the edge of his oversized sweater.

Everything's oversized with him. The thought occurs to me that his father was slightly bigger.

"Don't leave me," he says quietly, his voice small and pathetic like him. But I don't say that with hate.

"I just got home," I say. "Be a bit odd to leave again."

I try a smile, but it's artificial and we both know it's only for his comfort. It doesn't touch him, his eyes glassy and lips slightly parted the same way a child's is when they're trying to breathe as their sinuses spring to life in wake of forming tears.

"I didn't mean it," he says, still standing in the same place. If I was a better person I'd probably run to him. But I'm not.

If I were a better person, I'd say I believe him. But I don't. And suddenly my throat is swollen with hurt, my own bottom lip is sticking out and now we're both trying not to cry because this is so overly taxing. We're adults but emotions are hard. Vulnerability is hard. It is a damnation that we both detest, both avoid. In better states we would joke about this, would laugh and tease the other for not having the emotional capability to voice our thoughts. But we're not. So we don't. And now we're crying openly in the off-putting, attempted to look cozy living room that we can never fully relax in.

"I don't wanna lose you," he says between small hiccups, hands now balled into fists that he buries under opposite armpits, shifting his weight so that he doesn't look so small. His glances bounce between me and the hallway table, never fixing on either of us as he tries to state his mind like an adult. "I've barely had you."

In my heart there has been a constant ache, hurt flowing and pumping through my veins like the blood that ran cold last night at his hurtful words. His apologetic words make the ache somehow worse.

"I don't mean to be a burden to you," I say softly, feeling a small, stray tear break the fluid barrier of my waterline to race down my cheek, allowing a pathway to the fatter drops that threaten to quickly follow.

Mike's face shifts, stepping towards me and holding out his arms.

"No, never," he says just as soft, trying to comfort me. I freeze as he approaches, my body stiffening as I try to swallow the lump and convince myself that I can survive his touch. His touch that I normally crave the moment I'm around him, that I seek in the dark of night even when the bed is overheating, that I'd go insane without.

"I've never asked you to care," I say, voice breaking and tears rolling freely now.

"I know," he says into my neck, which is wetting as he shakes around me, his grasp firm and careless of whether or not it's too much.

"I don't mean to cause problems. I just...." I don't know what I mean, how I wish to finish the statement. If I was clever, I could. If I was clever, I wouldn't even be in this problem to begin with.

"I'm just scared," he chokes out, his breathing horrible as he struggles to keep his crying from being obvious. "You look sick all the time and I don't want that."

He's told me the story. His mother wasting away, thinning and slipping, starving and dying. How he'd returned home to a baby wailing in her crib as their mothers body lay in a pool of blood he never really got out of the carpet. He lied to me initially when I saw it the first time, said it was wine. It wasn't until we had a few glasses ourselves that his eyes glazed over and he told me. It was disturbing how neutral he kept himself to the subject. A habit he'd developed much too long ago to break.

"Mike-"

"I try, and I try and if something doesn't give soon I'm gonna fucking lose it," he sobs into my skin, arms tightening around me.

"If what doesn't give?" I ask softly, trying to pull him away to look into his eyes. But he doesn't budge, sobbing a little bit harder and gripping a little bit tighter. He doesn't respond, simply shaking as he breathes heavily against me through his mouth.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to wrap my arms around him, failing and giving up as I realize his grip is too tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

His mouth closes a little, quieting his breathing slightly as he sniffles.

"I'm an idiot, but I'm not suicidal," I say softly, trying again for a joke. He doesn't laugh, but he does pull away slightly to look at my face, lips swollen and quivering as he blinks at me.

"You scare me," he says quietly, not quite meeting my eyes. He's watching my lips, but I think that's because that's the closest he can get to making eye contact.

"I scare you?" I ask, furrowing my brows. I lick my dry, cracked lips for comfort. "Why?"

"Because I love you," he says shakily, sighing as though it were exhausting to admit while still holding that nervous flicker in his eyes. "Because when I think about not being with you the house seems colder. And I can't go back to hating this house."

I open my mouth to respond, but there's more.

"Because I love your stupid smile when you're excited, or how you do that cricket leg thing when you're falling asleep. Or how if you want my attention you'll bury your head in my chest and pretend you're doing it in your sleep even though I won't judge you for doing it while you're awake."

"I don't-"

"I love how defensive you get over things like that," he says, bringing one hand to cup my cheek, resting his thumb that smells like the creamy lavender handsoap next to the bathroom sink on my lips. "I love how you look waking up next to me, how you play with Abby. And for a really long time I didn't see myself ever having kids, but when I see you curling her hair at the kitchen table I think maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I just took up another job and saved money so that we could-"

"Mike-"

"Stop cutting me off," he says gently, his eyes finally meeting mine with just the smallest smile. "It's rude."

At that I do stop, my body finally relaxing into his grasp as I lean into him and his touch.

"I want things I haven't wanted since before Garret went missing," he says, stroking my lip. "And I want them with you."

Dinner was just as delicious as lunch, even if it was late. And the bed is soft like our voices as we make plans for years down the line. And after a week long break, the pages are finally filled once again.

Just like us.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

Literally had a come to Jesus moment while writing this that not only do I fear being vulnerable irl, but in writing too. Nearly threw up while writing this. Book aable feet.

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@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

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coupleoffanfics · 10 months

Text

Part 2 of Batfam and batsis y/n headcons

Masterlist

It was a surprise to see y/n at the of the manor one night after her "outburst" that was a couple months ago. Alfred is happy to see her but notices her troubled expression. She greets him and asks if Bruce was here.

Entering the Batcave for the first time in years, it hasn't changed too much from what y/n remembers. The first to notice her walk in is Damian. "Sister, what are you doing here?" It's always so weird hearing him call her that now. He's never called he that until her "outburst".

This gets the attention of Tim and Babs, making them look away from the monitor. Tim is glad to see her again and hopefully, she is here to mend their broken, not completely burnt, bridges. Babs is also glad to see her as they haven't been communicating as much this past week, but concerned as to what brought her here. She has a feeling that y/n wouldn't come here without a reason.

"I need to talk to Bruce." Damian is almost upset that y/n didn't say she came to see him. He doesn't even have to open his mouth as Bruce is right behind her. Bruce makes his presence known which made y/n jolt up a bit.

Turns around to see him suited up just like the others. Not seeing his full face made her more comfortable oddly.

She takes a deep breath before talking, "I want to clarify that I'm talking to Batman and not Bruce Wayne. I have some information and I desperately need your help." Everyone's interest was already peaked before she said anything.

Bruce watches her pointer finger curl around her hair, her eyes shifted away from him, and her shoulders somehow become even more tense. "Jerome is looking for someone, not me, but I'm worried about them. Wait not looking for he's found them and I- ugh, I'm sure you've already done a background check on him. He has a twin brother and he supposedly wants him dead. I'm…"

All their eyes on her were worsening her anxiety. "I'm best friends with him, Jeremiah Valeska." Babs is already putting the pieces together that Xander Wilde was just an alias. She does remember thinking that they look similar, but she's only met y/n's boyfriend a handful of times and never looked that deep into Jerome's relatives. There wasn't any need to look at his family as long as they aren't committing illegal acts with him.

"Jerome, he did something to Jeremiah. There was this gas and it messed him up. He…" y/n was trying not to get too emotional from talking about a topic that was sensitive to her. "He's not right in the head anymore. It's almost like he's turning into Jerome. He's losing control, he knew a week ago that something is wrong but now he's saying…"

Their eyes and her various feelings on the matter were making her feel that this was a dead end. It's been nearly three months and things have been getting progressively worse. As she looks at Bruce and all she expects is to be rejected. To tell her that she was overreacting and that time was going to heal whatever this mess was.

y/n looked Bruce in the eyes and for the first desperately begged, "Please. Please help find a cure or something to end Jeremiah's madness. I…" She choked back the urge to say that she loved him. There wasn't a need for that and she'd rather keep them in the dark about her life. "…I don't want to lose my best friend. I know you're busy, but I had try asking. Just tell me now if you'd be able to help in any way possible and I'll leave you alone."

This came out of nowhere, but with y/n looking Bruce in the eye with glassy and a scared look in her eyes. How could he say no? "I'll do everything I can, but I'll need a blood sample."

Anything that he said after that went in and out of y/n's ears. She was just relieved that she had the greatest detective help her. "Yeah, um, I can do that." Her voice was softer than a few seconds ago. She wiped the tears of relief with her palm and quickly made her way out of the cave.

Tim wanted to go after her, but Damian was already following behind her and Babs gave him a discouraging look. Babs finally understood why y/n has been so quiet these past weeks. She also knew that y/n needed time to herself and she'd hope that Damian would understand that. She thinks Bruce knew that as well as he stared at the exit for a moment before swiftly going back to work.

Damian kept calling out to his sister before grabbing her wrist. y/n really wanted to shake off his hand and tell him to just leave her alone. Though feeling how firm his grip is she knew it would probably be best to go with whatever to not trigger another meltdown. That was the last thing she ever wanted to see or deal with.

Genuinely though she didn't know why he followed her. It didn't matter if he was trying to repave their relationship, she always expects the worst to come out of his mouth. As a shield, she says what he thinks he'll say. Putting herself down before he or anyone can do it.

"Yeah, I know I shouldn't be down there. It's no place for me and I get in the way. I'm not going to lie and say I'm fully sorry. I am, but I need to try everything to save him, and if that means you'll all have to bear witness to a living failure once more then so be it."

Damian is stuck by her words again and lets go of her as if her skin burns him. He was unsure of how to respond to that, but that wasn't the reason he was there. He tells her with full confidence, "Father will find a cure. Your friend will be okay."

She doesn't look at him. Surprised that he didn't degrade her and slightly smiling that he was comforting her. "Thank you, Damian, that was nice of you to say." Then walks out of the manor just like last time, but this night Damian can fall asleep without regretting eating him alive.

Bruce hires a team of toxicologists. Buys a whole new laboratory for the team. Making sure that there is progress being made while he's not working on it. Tim is the one who spends the most time searching for a cure.

The day after y/n would make her regular trip to the psychiatric hospital with Tim watching from a distance. Tim wasn't stalking y/n he'd claim fully knowing that's exactly what he's doing. He just felt that something was missing and he just wanted to know. He was sick of all her secretiveness. He's given y/n some space after her "outburst" unlike Damian and Dick. So he feels like he could do this because it's not like he forcing her to be around him like the other two.

But regardless the stalking. He was concerned about seeing y/n walk into a mental hospital. It wasn't Arkham, but personally knowing her track record of depressive episodes made him wonder why she was here. Was she admitting herself again?

y/n going through a mental low is difficult no matter how many times Tim sees and helps her through it. She'd stop having this bubbly aura around her. Not being able to get out of bed. There were few times she talked of how hopeless and empty she felt. When she had these episodes they'd never last a few days. They'd always be a week and the worse he's personally seen it last for 2 months. Then the mental image of her dealing with this on her own and coming to the point that she felt the need to admit herself was devastating to him in many ways.

Disguised as part of the staff, Tim followed y/n. Quickly realizing that she wasn't admitting herself, but visiting. He stood by the door of the patient's room that she dispersed in and closed the door. Interestingly Echo walked out of the room at one point and went back.

Seeing y/n standing by the door and about to leave, Tim quickly put some distance between himself and her. Watching y/n, Echo, and a man wearing a hat walk out. Following close behind as they left the hospital and entered the parking garage. He noticed how closely y/n and the man were walking together while Echo walked behind them.

Suddenly Echo came to a halt making the others stop and look at her. Then she ran full force toward Tim and pushed him against the concrete wall. A sharp knife pressed against his throat.

The handful of times Tim has seen Echo he's never seen her exhibit any emotion. There was a sort of underlying anger as she calmly ask who he was and why he following them. He's not able to get his mouth open because y/n runs up panicked while the man walks slowly.

y/n doesn't even need a second to see that it was Tim. Makes Echo let go of him before asking what he was even doing there. There is no good lie that he can come up with on the spot and he knew lying was just going to make y/n more upset than she already was.

"You never talk or are around anymore. You're so secretive now that it makes me worried." Tim would continue if he didn't notice y/n clench her jaw. He would have to be blind to not see y/n trying to keep her cool.

That's when the man placed his gloved hand on her shoulder. Just that simple action alone got rid of any tension in y/n. The man would introduce himself as Jeremiah.

Tim felt uncomfortable by Jeremiah. It could have been the fact that y/n did say his mental sanity has deteriorated, but Tim could just feel something was off with him. His bright green eyes remind Tim of someone. His face also looked to be caked with makeup and the way he talked was unnerving.

The three leave Tim behind. y/n stating that they'll talk about 'this' later. He goes back to the manor even more perplexed by everything.

Later that day y/n drops by the manor. Trying to be discreet as possible because she doesn't want to trigger Damian jumping out. Handing the blood sample to Bruce then turning her attention to Tim.

They have a long drawn-out conversation about what transpired earlier. Explaining why he felt the need to follow her and how he wants her to be open with him.

"— I want us to friends again." That made y/n's heart and mind stop for a moment. Just a moment because she immediately rebuttals. Not trying to mean when saying she doesn't want to be near any of them. That just things change, that they've changed, and they drifted apart. That he had nothing to worry about, but to also never do that again.

y/n spends most of her time with Jeremiah until she has classes and takes a minute to drop by the manor for any updates. Now that y/n is visiting the manor, Damian doesn't surprise her with visits anymore. Since she comes over quite often, daily almost.

He always tries to prolong her time there. He remembers the few things she's interested in. Art and fencing. He'll try almost bribe her to spend more time with him. Mentioning that he's going to an art museum or that he's done with his latest painting. It doesn't get her attention. Talks about how he's got tickets for a fencing match, but that doesn't interest y/n in the slightest.

It's like she's purposefully ignoring him. It's not the case, but that's beside the point. One day when y/n drops by and gets ready to leave, Damian walks up to her with one question. "Can you teach me how to fence?"

Taken aback the question y/n has to take a moment to register it. She sighs, "You're better off getting a professional trainer because I haven't held a saber or epee in a hot minute." She's not even trying to avoid Damian even though he just reminds her how much of a failure she is. She's just being honest.

The boy is becoming visibly frustrated. Panicking and remembering his last tantrum, y/n quickly says that she'll teach him the basics after her classes. Seeing that he was calming down y/n makes a quick escape.

After her last class, she sees Damian waiting right outside of her classroom. Once she's in his peripheral vision he tries to drag her back to the manor and into the newly established fencing room, but she needs to make a quick stop.

Will not let her go alone no matter what. So she kinda has no choice but to bring him along. It's nothing new. She makes a quick call informing someone that she'll have someone with her before jumping into her car. They take a long ride out of Gotham and into the woods. Making Damian wonder where the hell y/n is going.

The second one to meet Jeremiah is Damian. Jeremiah only politely greets him before leaving to talk with y/n in another room. The first impression Damian has of Jeremiah is not a good one. Highly suspicious of him and is not comfortable letting y/n be alone in a room with him. Low-key impressed by the labyrinth that Jeremiah calls his house and likes the interior of the living room. Every classy.

Would have put his ear against the door to hear what they were saying if it wasn't for Echo. She was staring him down. He's pretty sure she hasn't blinked since they got here. Going off what Tim said to the others about Echo possibly being y/n's lover, Damian wonders what y/n sees in Echo.

When they leave and get back into the car Damian brings up Echo. "Your girlfriend should learn how to blink." y/n almost stomped on the breaks. "Girlfriend...? Echo?" She's very confused. "Who else am I talking about." This is when she learns that the whole family thinks she's dating Echo. The idea is funny but also irked her because that was far from the truth. Calmly explains to Damian that isn't the case and that she was simply Jeremiah's bodyguard. Damian can't wait to tell Tim that he was wrong.

Once they get back to the manor y/n teaches Damian about fencing. First going over the rules and the 4 types of fencing before doing anything physical. Surprisingly time flew by. They probably would have been fencing all night if Alfred didn't interrupt them for dinner. y/n planned on leaving, but Damian convinced her to at least stay for dinner because Alfred made her favorite dish and dessert.

This is around the time y/n starts to think that Damian isn't too bad. Out of everyone in the family, Damian is probably the one she'd be the most lenient towards. She's lenient towards the whole family, but Damian is still relatively young. He was able to move on from his horrible childhood, even though that resulted in him lashing out, y/n can forgive that to an extent. Deep down she sees him as her little brother even after their rough patch.

The fact that he isn't breaking into her apartment and trying to connect with her, makes her think that it's safe to be around him. That she isn't going to be verbally reminded that she's one of the most worthless human beings to be alive.

She starts straying a little longer at the manor to mentor Damian a few times. He starts to worry when she easily has the wind knocked out of her and has a cough that doesn't go away. She tells him that it's nothing to worry about. Might lie to him if doesn't give up on the topic by saying she's developed asthma. The lie isn't implausible since anyone can develops asthma at any age and it is hereditary.

It calms Damian down a little. Now he constantly carries an inhaler just in case y/n needs it. She feels so bad lying to him, but she thinks it's for the best that everyone should stay in the dark about her medical condition.

Seeing y/n willingly hang out with Damian gets under Tim's skin. He's given her space unlike Damian, except for that one time but it was only one time. The little gremlin has been harassing her since that one "outburst". He'd want to pull out the 'I knew her longer' card, but he knows how petty it would be. Who she hangs out with isn't his problem and he should mind his own business.

He does mind his own business, but he may occasionally check the cameras to see what y/n and Damian are up to. That's all he swears. Oh, my god, they're going to orchestral concerts and museums together now!? This is so unfair Tim thinks to himself.

They use to be so close.

Honestly, Bruce is thankful for Damian. He's keeping y/n around the manor longer so she can be completely safe from the madness of Gotham. It's also good to know that she's willingly interacting with one of her brothers. It almost warms his heart to see her not be so anxious while in the manor. Just almost because she shouldn't have to feel anxious in the first place. This was the place she once called home, it should make her feel safe not anxious.

Remember the team of toxicologists?

If you don't that's fine. They were killed by the bomb placed in the laboratory, so it's not like they'd be brought up again.

Everyone thinks it's Jerome. The loss of innocent life and y/n suddenly going missing seems like a Jerome thing to do. When they hunt down Jerome, he just kinda shrugs his shoulders while doing a poor job at hiding his smile. Damian wants to scratch his face off or rip his face off depending on the state of it. Dick has to hold back the little monster while Bruce interrogates the ginger.

It goes nowhere until Jerome gets bored of interrogation and tells them, "I'm tired of him thinking that he's better than me. We're quite the same, but I'm the better one. I just had to give him a fresh air of courage to be his true self." Everyone understands what he's say and also groaning that they have to deal with another fucking Valeska.

BONUS

Jerome, Jeremiah, Joker, and Harley being a sort of dysfunctional family is a fun idea. (Inspired by this) Joker and Harley enable the twins' unhealthy love for y/n Wayne.

Harley is more "innocent" in her enabling because she sees nothing wrong with it. The staking, the murder, it's nothing when it's the name of love. (When she leaves Joker for Ivy, she might feel guilty for egging them on. That she played a part in instating y/n into a toxic relationship. Out of anyone, she'd be the one to understand what's it like to be in one. This might motivate her to help keep y/n safe in the future.) Out of the two Harley is rooting for Jerome. He just seems like the lesser evil for y/n.

Joker finds the whole thing funny and pathetic at the same time. The twins are destroying half of the city for a girl, it almost makes him want to roll his eyes. Almost because of the lengths they'll go to. How they're always butting heads and seeing how distraught the girl gets is fun. He can't help but laugh at it. He'll be putting his money on Jeremiah because he sees potential. He's not reckless like Jerome or impatient, Jeremiah is in it for the long haul.

#batfamily x batsis #batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #jason todd x reader #richard grayson x reader #dick grayson x batsis #tim drake x reader #damian wayne x batsis #yandere x reader #barbara gordon x reader #jerome valeska x batsis reader #jeremiah valeska x batsis reader

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andy-15-07 · 2 months

Text

Our Love

masterlist ! pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

SUMMARY : a morning full of love and declarations

GENRE: fluff, loveeee

Coriolanus Snow never thought he would care about anyone, until Y/n appeared in his life. His life changed radically.

Y/n, now Coryo's fiancee, only she is allowed to call him that, turned his world upside down, with her beauty, intelligence and the smile he fell in love with.

They met during the Academy and it didn't take long for Coriolanus to ask Y/n if she wanted to be his girlfriend.

All their colleagues thought that they are very different, Y/n is the most likeable, funny, beautiful and intelligent person, and Coriolanus is not too open with his feelings, his eyes are a blue color that can make you lose your mind thoughts, cold with other people but with Y/n it's completely different.

When Coriolanus had to go to District 12 as a peacekeeper, Y/n knew what Coriolanus did, but his girlfriend didn't judge him, they found ways to communicate. Y/n knew the conditions her boyfriend was living in, but that didn't stop her from loving him, she helped Coryo's family.

Every morning I wake up alone, Coryo's side is empty, either he went to solve some things or he is in his office, but this morning everything is different.

I turn and see my dear fiancé, he was sleeping on his back, and the sun's rays were falling on him, his hair was stuck to his forehead, he looked so calm when he was sleeping and peaceful. The blanket was at the level of his hips, Coriolanus always slept only in boxers, he always says that he likes to be wanted so he feels even closer to him.

I've been studying him for a few minutes, but I didn't realize he was awake until he made a sudden move to bring me as close to him as possible.

"You know it's not polite to stare while some people are sleeping?". he tells me and pulls me to his chest.

"I know, but you weren't sleeping, you were awake and I wasn't staring, I was just admiring your beauty." I tell him and return to his arms, I raise my head and I'm already met with the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen in my life and it belongs to my future husband.

"Good morning my love!" He tells me and kisses me on the forehead.

"Good morning Coryo! Do you have anything to do today? I hope you don't leave me alone again..." I say and look down, with the hope that I will make him stay with me at home, more precisely that we spend the whole day in bed, in each other's arms.

"I don't have anything to do today, I don't have any meeting or anything related to work. But what's with all these questions my dear?" He tells me and I can't look him in the eyes because it seems a little childish to me that I don't want to be alone, but it's been a long time since we spent the whole day together.

"Because I miss sitting with you, sitting in bed, in your arms, like we used to do before." I say and I look at him, he had a small smile and nodded, he came closer and kissed me.

Coriolanus is the first to break the kiss and look at me while tucking my hair behind my ear.

"What do you say about this, we spend all day here in the bedroom, doing whatever you want, watching TV, reading, cooking. Everything my dear future wife wants, you agree." He tells me and pulls me closer to him and kisses me all over my face, this makes me laugh.

"I agree, my dear future husband." I tell him and put my head on his chest, and my hand finds his and we intertwine our fingers together and Coriolanus puts our hands on his chest, next to his heart.

As hard as it would be to find time for the other, we will always have something that attracts us, the love for the other, regardless of the time, place or event.

We are together until death do us part.

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