#baeksang x reader

[socius-animae]

˖ ⁺ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺ *ੈ. 𑁍 ༘. ⋆ 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓫𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓷𝓲𝓬𝓮

𝑯𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐, 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝑰 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒆?

Can we call this a date? || Baek-Sang x Reader

Summary:

Exhausted by your brother's demands to have tofu, plus the annoying message ringing from the pink-haired man who re-dyed his hair telling you to check out Busan, you eventually come to the solution that you'll take a short walk to the market in Busan. Fortunately for you, you found a face that can amuse you.

Note:

3.2k words, written before chapter 536 and based on personal interpretation. It feels a bit ordinary but you might be interested in the last part.

Cw:

Violence, Threats, Intimidation. Only the last part.

This is absurdity when the world shows that anything can happen if it’s desired. Everything is essentially predetermined on a single path of destiny.

Here is a clear example. Just a few weeks ago, you receive information (and James rolls his eyes because you keep postpone your visit to Busan) that the King of Busan will be released from prison, and here you see a nameless henchman, handsome like an angel who rivals Eli’s glow-up.

Geez, obviously looking at how people around him can’t take their eyes off him either. Like, hello?! Hair fluttering, shining because of the wind coming from where? In this stuffy market? The vendor tents block the scorching sun, the fishy smell, and all sorts of things that can be sold in a typical market.

This person is clearly out of place; just look at how that old woman seems somewhat intimidated by his height, not to mention his serious gaze deciding which tofu to buy.

Yes, what a coincidence. Walking casually, you stop beside him, staring innocently as if you don’t know anything. “Hey, auntie? How much is this one?” You mischievously point to the one already targeted by this beautiful henchman.

The poor vendor feels the murderous gaze directed at you, stammering in response. “A… a, six hundred won for one piece. Do you want to buy it?” No matter how terrifying the bloodthirsty aura ready to pounce is, you just nod cheerfully.

“Wait, I want to buy that first.” There’s no shout of anger or a growl as you anticipated; this time you stop ignoring him. This henchman seems to be both fierce and calm by default, or maybe he’s a bit annoyed because you appeared out of nowhere and took something that should belong to Jinrang later?

Challenging him a little, you act confused. “Really? If that’s the problem, the vendor should have said that this one will be yours.” You turn to the vendor, making an obviously unimpressed expression, accusing. The one feeling accused (even though you’re not serious) starts to panic, stuttering more and turning pale.

Forgive me, auntie, you pray inwardly. But I will give you a tip!

“Alright, how about this. I let you buy this tofu, in exchange you’ll go on a date with me today. How about that?” Hmm, that sounds cooler in your mind than actually saying it.

Surprised, of course, passersby who overhear your conversation glance away in astonishment. The question is, who is this brave girl? Oh my God, such a tease. Disgusting, what the hell. Lastly, is the expression on Jinrang’s white-haired henchman’s face.

The words you expect—rejection, questioning your intentions—you immediately sweep them back, “That person will return to Busan, right? Because the reception should be the best.” You finally pull the lever, its intrinsic strength stronger now.

It feels like challenging death on a dark road; you know nothing about him except that he’s one of the important figures in Busan’s underworld. However, this isn’t the first time you’re dealing with something unknown and risking your life.

The wrinkles on his face deepen, but that doesn’t make you back down from getting a date with him. “How do you know? Who are you?” He’s still standing there; everyone knows you pressed his button.

“I’m glad you’re curious about me. If you agree to a short date, maybe you’ll find out. By the way, our date plan is to visit the food factories. I want to go to PulmuSoy, then ChongGa, and Sempyu. If we have time, we’ll also go to Daesan. Don’t worry, I have acquaintances.” Sometimes it’s nice to have connections everywhere.

But both of you know, all those places are in Seoul. A gray area for those affiliated with the King of Busan. There’s no prohibition on going to Seoul as a regular person; after all, which law judges you just because of gang fights and enemies entering territories practically owned by the state?

This unwritten rule is ridiculous. Maybe that’s why Gitae doesn’t care about his title as the King of Seoul. Who knows, you’ll ask later.

After weighing your decision internally, you continue. “If you’re worried I’m lying, you can leave me on the road and take the tofu away, easy peasy. So, what do you think?” Overall, it’s a win-win situation for him; he can get the best quality tofu without causing a fuss.

But what are your intentions? What do you gain from this? Your conversation partner just sighs. Maybe you’re not that bad, just strange… who knows, you’re just guessing what’s on his mind. The henchman pays for the tofu he wanted to buy earlier. “Alright. If that’s the case.”

Without waiting any longer, “What do you want us to use to go? Train? Bicycle? Taxi or….” Hmm, should you invite him to your car? The options you provide aren’t suitable for a date, but thinking of you both as strangers, practically not knowing each other’s names, being civilians would be good, you think.

“It’s alright, we can use my car.” Oh, such a respectful man, he turns out not to be that dense. Walking beside him, occasionally you glance at his facial expressions. For once, he reciprocates your flirtation. “Aren’t you worried you just met someone with bad intentions?”

Responding dramatically, you sweep your hair back. “Me? If I met one, I’d definitely die. Besides, I’m a fragile flower. So protect me later.” People who know you would undoubtedly accuse you of telling the worst lies in the world. But man, you feel a bit cringy with this dramatic acting, to be honest.

Your answer stops him from walking out of the market. He looks at you with a face asking, what’s wrong with you. Well, you’ve often received looks like this, and it won’t be the last in the future either. “You….” Maybe you should appreciate him for holding back all the harsh words there.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you snort in disbelief. “Pfft, if I were meeting a bad person, logically I’d just avoid them. You happened to look interesting, so why not while I’m here.” Yes, let’s just say you’re a fool infatuated with visuals (but, it’s true).

That’s a half-baked reason, but not entirely unreasonable. People beside you must be wondering why you know his intentions, not just that, about Jinrang, the King of Busan who should only be known to those who have ever dabbled in the underworld. You’re not an ordinary person, for sure.

“You… are strange.” He closes his eyes, not showing much expression. Maybe there’s someone far more eccentric than you that he’s met before.

“It’s nice if a man like you concerned about me, but I can always run away if I want to. Still, thanks for the intention.” You both continue walking.

Upon reaching the car you’re heading to, a car passes by. True, it’s just like that panel, this man stands in front of it, and looks exactly the same. The same luxurious car out of place like its owner.

Apparently, you are deep in thought considering that truth until he opens the passenger door beside the driver’s seat. “Oh, what polite man, I’m getting more interested in you. Do you have a girlfriend?” Such a boring question, you just make small talk. Strangely, you get a slight reaction. Is there something sparkling in his mouth?

This marks the third place you've been visiting today, and surprisingly, the day hasn’t spiraled into a nightmare of thugs and brutal interrogations as you feared. Instead, an uneasy silence hovers between you and your companion, broken only by awkward conversations about tofu, which mostly are one-sided initiations from you.

Actually, it's not that bad if you are someone who thinks too much about what others think, because the view outside somewhat entertains you in this silence.

As dusk creeps in, the sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows through the window of the restaurant managed by the tofu factory. A tofu dish is nibbled on, fitting the day’s theme.

Across the table, a white-haired man sits silently, his eyes fixed ahead. Glancing at his teeth, you notice something off but choose to remain silent. After all, it is your first meeting, and his name still remains a mystery.

Lost in thought, thinking about how today went and how the future will unfold, all that is interrupted by a sudden cough from your date. What did he eat? Is the food that bad? Observing where his hand is and what he is scooping, tofu buchimgae? You come to the conclusion that the glint in his teeth indeed means something.

Without waiting any longer, you call the nearest waiter to bring water. Glancing at him occasionally, you hesitate on what to say, as the waiter promptly hands over the water. More or less, your face and the employee's are both worried.

Should you apologize? Apologize for accidentally ordering food that you shouldn't have eaten? Of course, this is not something you expected. But it does not lessen your guilt.

Your mind drifts to James, silently cursing the redhead. He must be involved somehow, you muse. If it were you, you’d have known by now. Imagining his smug smile when he knew you made a stranger choke on the date.

This frustration bubbles beneath the surface, adding to the tension at the table because the cough of the man across you is getting worse. Oh my God, James, what are you doing with this handsome man! your thoughts echo, pulling your hair inward in frustration.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know you...." your soul floats away from your body as he stares sharply at you from across the table. (Unbeknownst to you, James, staying at his hotel, senses your silent exasperation.)

The weight of unspoken words hangs heavily between you and the stranger. Do you have to do or say something? It feels like you've just committed the most heinous crime that humanity can think of.

Breaking the silence, you lean forward slightly and inquire, “Hey, how’s the food?” Your question mirrors the earlier inquiries you made at other factories, making the atmosphere feel repetitive and stifling.

A sigh escapes his lips, feeling trapped in a loop of meaningless small talk. “It’s fine,” he replies gracefully, picking up another bite of the safer menu item he is eating. Whether he genuinely means it or is simply avoiding deeper conversation remains unclear, leaving you yearning for a more substantial connection.

Attempting to steer the conversation to safer ground, you remark, "Let's forget what has happened, okay? Whether it's five minutes ago or five years ago, this silence and guilt are killing you." “The day is getting dark. Have you found the one you think is best?” Leaning on your hand, you wish to spark a more engaging dialogue.

“The third one,” comes his terse answer. His brief response only deepens your confusion, and the silence grows heavier as you struggle to find common ground.

Undeterred, you venture further, “I think the second one is better—larger and softer tofu. What do you think?” Hoping for more engagement, you seek a sign of interest or at least a shared opinion.

After taking a bite, he sets his spoon aside and asks, “To be truthful, what do you want to hear?” His question catches you off guard, marking the first time he has initiated a query since you agreed to the date. You at least hope this date will end calmly, even though all day the impression you got is bland and, you don't know, maybe it's because you're strangers and you're forcing your luck?

Frozen momentarily, uncertainty clouds your response. “It’s okay, I guess. From today, I come to the conclusion that you’re not the type who likes to talk,” you reply softly, disappointment evident. You wonder who you would report this sadness to.

“Are you finished?” he inquires, prompting a nod from you. Disappointment washes over you as you wonder if your time together has been a waste. Despite him paying for everything and even driving you out while you wait for a taxi, the connection feels lacking.

Silence envelops once more, thick with unspoken thoughts. A glance at his vibrating phone precedes his return to the street outside. Deciding to break the tension, you speak up, “Hey, sorry for dragging you all day and forcing myself on you. Thank you for sticking with me.” You glance out of the corner of your eye. What expression is he making?

Meeting your gaze, he responds with no signs of confusion, annoyance, or even accusation. Maybe all this is just a formality, “It’s not a problem. I got what I wanted, so being dragged by you isn’t entirely negative. But I wonder about your motives, besides claiming to know me.”

You think the answer is simple, the answer everyone would think of when they first see him. “Because you’re handsome,” escapes your lips before you can retract them.

His expression remains unreadable. Curse it, you are too used to complimenting someone without thinking, but when your counterpart is him who doesn't react at all, making you think of various possibilities, you are not sure some are starting to be relevant. “Have girls never approached you on the street for your looks?” you press, hoping for a reaction.

Still no response. “Don’t stay silent! You’re making me feel awkward… But actually, I need it to cook,” you add, attempting to shift the conversation once more. That is somewhat half a lie because you don't need it right now either. At most, you know it will last for a few days until your beloved little brother reminds you.

Curiosity flickers in his eyes as he asks, “You cook?”

“Yeah, I’m planning a tofu menu tomorrow. My little brother keeps craving it, though I can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s because he’s growing?” You hope to lighten the mood, but he remains stoic.

“Yeah, I can cook various things. I even have a YouTube channel with five million subscribers. We should go on a cooking date sometime. I can satisfy your appetite better than the restaurant earlier,” you continue, a slight change in his demeanor noticeable.

A slight smile tugs at his lips as he snorts, “Sure. I believe that.” You interpret this reaction indirectly as if he rolled his eyes.

“Your face says otherwise. Are you mocking me? Really unusual,” you mutter, suppressing it because of being upset after being ridiculed by someone who looks impossible to joke with, feeling both embarrassed about his response.

"If that's the way you see it, then so be it," he replies, returning his gaze to the street, signaling the end of the conversation.

Another silence. You feel somewhat relieved because this time it is not suffocating like before, and it feels like the daytime confidence, which was quite crazy to invite a man you know is dangerous, has returned. Time to test your luck again. “Can we go on another date next time? Maybe you could ask me out.”

After considering your request for a moment, he chuckles. My goodness, you are grateful you didn’t look away, forget to blink, and your breath is held as you see his sharp teeth, smiling beneath the stoic face that accompanied you all day.

No way, this is bad, your face flushes. You almost think that one day this man would want to do something bad to you and give that smile. You are not sure you can fight back even to speak.

Resisting not to gape too obviously, you rage inwardly for a fraction of a second. He responds, “If you’re willing, I’ll choose Sea Life Busan Aquarium for our next meeting. And hopefully, you’ll tell me more about yourself.”

Of course, you are willing to spend more time with him, even though you would be bitten by that set of shining metal teeth. Who are you to refuse handsomeness? Well... sometimes you have to remind yourself to restrain before everything gets messed up.

“That’s great! Here’s my contact,” you say, reaching into your pouch.

“You have something like this?” A thin smile still lingers at the corner of his lips as you hand him your contact card, with slightly raised eyebrows.

“Of course I do. I have a job,” you reply, a hint of pride in your voice.

Blinking in confusion, as if you just saw something inexplicable, he slowly pulls something from his pocket. “That's not what I mean... but if that’s the case, this is mine.”

Stepping slightly back, you hold back, “Wait! Give this after our next meeting—please you can contact me first.” You twist your fingers, thinking of the handsome man whose name you will know on the next date, plus he will contact you first. Isn't that great?

“I understand,” he says, and a taxi passes by, its lights reflecting in his eyes.

Opening the door, you wave goodbye. “Thanks for today. I’m looking forward to the next time. Good night.”

“Good night,” he replies simply before watching your taxi disappear into the night.

Alternative Pathways

Written from the latest chapter. Lmao, he is so wild haha wiping a bloody knife on Jay's suit? That's a different level of insult, you know.

After a ruined dinner, it also destroys your self-confidence, and somehow this white-haired man still faithfully stays by your side while you wait for a taxi. Anyway, the anxiety clutching your heart is unbearable, and impulsively you call someone in your contacts.

No need for much awareness, something shiny from the streetlamp light on your neck, and a hand holds you, pressing the call button, threatening without speaking as you look up to find a smile that presents all forms of cunning among sharp teeth after a day of just a face without an expression that was hard to read.

"I think I have indeed seen you somewhere. Quite far back in the days that made me the person I am today. Don't you agree?" His face approaches, his white hair tickling your cheek. Still flaunting his sharp teeth, the reflection of his light almost makes you nervously blink.

But you have often been in a similar position. Sharp objects, small knives, maybe the one he picked up from your dinner, cornered, and he presses deeper into your neck, the sensation of the cold object suddenly stuck making your goosebumps stand up.

Added with his ominous smile, you surrender to the hold and sigh in resignation.

Regaining your composure, "You are not wrong, but I am still a messenger compared to anything." You raise your free hand, bringing it to his strand of hair, stroking the base, up to near his face. "It's just a pity if we end with bad blood, while I was expecting the next date from your side."

"Then why not tell what's stored in that pretty head first and then decide what happens next." Unwavering, he is not affected when you twirl with his hair.

However, this is a good response; his knife does not press deeper. You continue, "hm, maybe the idea of continuing tonight will sound good if you want to hear more from me." Without the burden of worries, you tuck his white hair, softly behind his ear and slowly pull his face closer to you.

Closer than he expects, your breaths mingle in the air. "How about it? I'm afraid this will be our last meeting."

And that's the rest of your night. You agree to spend more time. Whether something else happens or after that you kiss or whatever, then talk about things or vice versa, all that, the author leaves it to the reader's imagination.

[authorhjk1]

Aloha! Since I hardly find any of her fics here, here's hoping Krystal can make the cut so here are some choices if you may:

For the first outfit was hoping it could make the cut the most since if you look at it closely it is a one piece dress but buttoned up, for the second outfit I mean, look at that body sheesh and for the third a simple one.

https://kpopping.com/documents/54/2/2000/220405-H-Naver-Post-Krystal-ELLE-D-Edition-Photoshoot-Behind-documents-13.jpeg?v=1fb1e

https://kpopping.com/documents/a0/1/2992/240507-Krystal-Jung-Baeksang-Arts-Awards-2024-documents-1(1).jpeg?v=8dcd4

https://kpopping.com/documents/58/0/4500/Krystal-Jung-for-Vogue-Korea-March-2024-Issue-Vogue-Leader-2024-Woman-Now-documents-8.jpeg?v=2799c

Midnight

(Krystal Jung X Male Reader)

You're smiling from ear to ear as you walk through the building. You can't believe this is happening.

"It seems like you really want one of these."

Krystal's teasing tone makes you turn around to her. But before you can, her hands sneak around your waist and she presses her body up against yours from behind. Her chin landing on your shoulder.

"Y-Yes. This one."

You point at the car at the far end of the dealership. You've always wanted this car. Ever since you saw it online for the first time. You can't believe you're about to own it. You're barely nineteen years old and you just got your driver's license. But now you're walking to a midnight black Lamborghini Aventador.

You never checked out the price, because you expected to never be able to have enough money to buy one of these. But now it almost feels like you won the lottery.

"Are you sure you want this one?"

Krystal isn't as much into cars as you are, so she usually goes for classy and expansive over horse power and speed. The silver Rolls Royce parked outside is proof enough of that.

"This is my dream car."

"Then get in and try it out."

Krystal gives you a kiss on the cheek, before you hear heels klick on the floor as she walks away.

You carefully reach out to touch the hood. Six months ago, you would've been too afraid to even touch this car. But you don't have to worry about breaking anything. Krystal could buy every single car in this building, if she wanted to. You don't know how much money she really does have, but the first thing you did after coming home that fateful day, was researching the name Krystal Jung. The richest person in Korea. The fifth wealthiest person in Asia and maybe even one of the richest women on this planet.

Sitting down in the driver's seat, you let your hands wander over the steering wheel. It feels comfortable. It feels perfect. It feels better than you thought it would.

You tear your eyes off the car's dashboard as you hear Krystal approaching again. Her black dress matches the car and shows off her slim waist. It hugs her body like it was only designed for her and nobody else. Which is what probably happened. You doubt anyone else owns this exact dress. Maybe a cheap copy of it.

You hold your breath as Krystal stops in front of you, a car key in her hand.

"Do you want to take your new car for a drive?"

"Oh my god. Thank you so much."

You don't even dare to reach for the key. How much did Krystal just spent on you?

"Like I already said, you don't have to thank me for the stuff I buy you. It's just money."

She puts the key into your hand, before walking around to the passenger side.

Once she is seated, her arm sneaks around your shoulders, her lips right next to your ear.

"Let's take your new car for a drive along the coast."

Her free hand glides over your thigh as she reaches for your crotch.

"You can repay me by making use of that hood."

She nods towards the front of the car.

The cold midnight air hits your face as you test out the car's limits. Krystal's hair flies after her in the wind. The roaring of the engine almost makes it impossible to talk. You glance at the dashboard. 300 kph. The road doesn't have any corners in it right now, so you can drive as fast as you want. No one else is around.

You let the Lamborghini come to a hold as you reach the top of the cliff. It's not yet time for the sunrise, but the stars make the night sky bright enough. You have to peel your shaking hands off the wheel. You've never gone that fast in your life.

"That big smile on your face says a lot."

Krystal's hair is messy, but that might make her even more attractive.

"Show me how much you really enjoyed it."

You lean over and capture her lips with yours. The two of you make out in the car as your and her hands explore each other's bodies. You feel her naked waist under your fingertips, while Krystal lets her fingers graze your abs underneath your shirt.

You don't have to work and earn money or anything. Krystal has only two basic requirements for you to make this relationship work. Stay as healthy and fit as possible and make her cum more often then she can count. You work out every single day, eat healthy and go for a lot of runs. You already did it before you met her, but the amount of time you are know putting into your body makes it impossible for Krystal to keep her hands off you.

After your make out session in the car, you now kneel in front of it, after having Krystal bend over the hood. Just like she wanted.

Her dress is still occupying the passenger seat, while her naked body is pressed against the black surface.

"That's a good boy."

Krystal moans into the hood as your tongue invades her slick pussy again and again. You knead her cheeks as you hold onto them. She loves it when you worship her body just as much as when she worships yours.

"Oh, fuck! Almost!"

After six months of almost three times a day, you have Krystal completely figured out. It doesn't take much effort anymore to make her cum.

And you can tell how close she is, if you read the signs well enough. Her thighs begin to shake. Her moans become just a little higher. More swear words leave her lips. And more of her juices would run down her thighs, if it wasn't for you, eagerly licking every inch of her skin.

Your name leaves her lips in a deep moan, right before a high pitched cry echoes through the night. Krystal orgasms on top of the car. Her naked body pressed against the hood. Most of her squirt lands inside your mouth, but some finds it's way onto the car, staining the black materials.

While she recovers, you stand up and align your cock with her pussy. You're still hard and wet from her blowjob in the car mere minutes ago. You can't even keep track anymore on how often Krystal sucked you off, sitting in the passenger seat or at the back.

"That's right. Fill me with that cock of yours."

Krystal sighs as you push into her. Slow love making is a rare sight in your relationship. Mainly because it isn't a relationship based on love. Krystal is pleasant to be around, but she sometimes feels like she is from another world. Her money, her influence, her age. None of it matches your own personality. And yet, here you are, taking Krystal's pussy from behind.

"You're such a good boy. A good little toy."

Her endless praises fuel your desire to fuck her harder and harder. As much as you like Krystal dominating you, it doesn't compare to the feeling of being in control yourself. To have this beautiful woman bend over in front of you. How she takes your cock so well. How she moans your name and praises your cock.

You eventually start to grow tired. The small sex marathon on board of her plane two hours ago still lingering inside your muscles. Krystal usually isn't the type to have a lot of sex at once, due to her busy schedule. But a four hour flight in her private jet makes you work overtime.

You finally sink down on top of her, your face buried in her naked back as your cock rests deep inside her pussy. Krystal's tits and the rest of her body are being pressed against the hood of the car due to your weight.

"Yes, baby."

She sighs, enjoying the unusually slow fucking you now give her. Her snug pussy is enough to make you cum. It doesn't matter how fast you fuck her. Even if you only move at a slow pace, it manages to make you fill her up.

"Krystal..."

You kiss and lick her sweaty neck as you close your eyes. The cold midnight air roams your naked body on top of hers as you release your cum into her pussy.

-----------

Hi, everyone!

I hope you a had a good time reading. After deciding on this concept, I cose the black dress, because I think it fits the most. If you want me to write her in the blue one, feel free to request again, I will put it on my list.

[yeeehwa]

One Step at a Time {1}

Idol!Hongjoong x fem!reader

wc: 3,344

summary: you always let your work speak for you, never taking the spotlight, or even let people know your name. everything changed once the comfort of anonymity gets pulled from you.

warnings: cursing, not edited (let me know if I missed anything)

a/n: here’s the first installment of One Step at a Time! Im super happy with this and of the ideas that started processing as I worked on this more and more! I hope you enjoy as much as I do

Feedback is always appreciated

Prologue | chapter 2

✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼ ✼　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　 ҉　✼

Your eyes scrunched as your phone ringed on the table beside you. The light it broadcast being the only thing to illuminate the early morning. You turned your back to the sound and light, snuggling deeper into bed and sighing in relief when it stopped. Just for it to start again.

“What the hell” you muttered to yourself before grabbing the annoying device. You pulled the charger out of the bottom of your phone as you answered, eyes scrunched at the brightness it emulated.

You put your phone on speaker and laid it down by your head. “What” you groaned into the phone.

An exasperated sigh left the voice on the other line. “Don’t what me. Check the news.” Haewon all but snapped back at you. She sounded awake for it being so early.

You sat up, immediately alert. “Why am I checking the news at” you press your phone to check the time. “8am on a Saturday? It’s an ungodly hour. Let me sleep.”

“Your face is on it” She deadpanned.

You felt the color drain from your face. Quickly, you searched your bedsheets for the remote that decided to hide itself at the times you wanted it most. You found it, hands shaking as you hit the power button.

“The creator of the luxury brand, Luxe, was discovered last night at the Baeksang Arts Awards. After years of nothing more than being a mysterious figure, now has a face and name to them-“ you groaned as the screen flashed your name and face across the screen. The phone slipped from your hand as you shoved your face into one of your pillows and screamed.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to blacklist her now?” You muted the TV as soon as Soomins image came onto the screen, captions letting you know that she told Dispatch everything.

“She broke the contract too. We could sue her.” Haewon sounds utterly gleeful when pointing that out.

“No. No. I don’t want to do that.” You sigh and rub the last of the tiredness from your eyes. “Call a meeting. Make sure to call Seokhoon. I know he can help.”

“Are you sure you wa-“

“Yes.” You cut her off. “He’s the only one who knows her enough to try to calm this down. Call Minjun too.”

You knew her well enough to know that she grimaced and rolled her eyes at your demands. She decided to ignore them, knowing you were stressed. “He was top of my list. I’ll see you at 10.” The line went dead.

You sat there for a moment before flinging yourself back. Staring at the ceiling and contemplating how different your life will be now.

You’ll never have privacy again. So many people can come knocking down your door so they can work with you. Friends who have no idea about your career will look at you differently, start asking for things. You’re not sure how you’ll handle that. People in your life looking at you to elevate their status more. Your future looked bleak in your eyes, and you started to dread this meeting. You rubbed at your face again before sitting up.

Nothing is going to change. You tried to reassure yourself. Everything will be fine. An idol will have a scandal and this will all be forgotten. You weren’t sure if you were hopeful of that or dreading it.

Your feet hit the cold tile, arms raising in the air as you stretched out your arms and back from a restless night's sleep. You never slept much anyway, but with being woken up so early and the weight of everything bearing down on you, you got even less than usual.

Coffee you repeated to yourself as you made your way to the kitchen. Flipping on your coffee pot and digging around in your fridge for some fruit, you leaned against the counter, the overwhelming smell of coffee filling your nose and making you momentarily forget your woes.

A small mewl was heard from the doorway, and a small white fluff ball pranced into the kitchen, the smell of coffee and the sound of you being awake alerting your poor cat that it was, in his mind, breakfast time.

“Muffin,” you cooed to him, leaning down to scratch his chin. “How’s my handsome boy doing?” He meowed back, looking at you with wide eyes. Muffin, like yourself, was a creature of habit. He smelled the coffee and knew it was feeding time. You giggled as he meowed at you again, this time a little more aggressively as he pawed at your hand.

A small chuckle escaped you as you shook your head. “Yes you little gremlin. I’ll feed you.” You did so, and was met with mewls of happiness and contentment, and then left in almost silence. Muffin eating being the only noise being made.

Coffee finished, and you grabbed your favorite mug from the cabinet above you. 1 sugar and the smallest amount of cream,just to give it a little flavor. Perfect. Leaning against the counter, you held the cup to your lips, letting the dark liquid soothe you for the moment.

The sound of your phone ringing broke the silence, making you that much more anxious about the upcoming meeting. Haewons name flashed on the screen.

“Yes?”

“Everyone has been called, texted or emailed. I told them coming was not optional and that we’ll see them at 10. I got quite a few questioning texts and almost all of them cursed me at least once.” She was so nonchalant about it, you couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you Hae.” You checked the time, eyes bugged when you realized it was already 9:30. “I’ll see you in an hour.” You hung up.

After almost tripping over Muffin and throwing your coffee into a travel mug, you were dressed and ready to go. At least, you hoped you were.

Donning your favorite pair of navy blue and white striped bottoms with a matching blue wrap-around top with a neat bow tied at your hip. A silver chain belt with a long strand of it falling down the side of your leg, matching rings and earrings, and a wide brimmed hat, you looked yourself over in the mirror, making sure every detail looked perfect. You were nervous, and you needed to make sure that you looked collected and put together. You knew Minjun was going to suggest you make a press appearance. You grimaced at the thought.

After checking yourself over one last time, you grabbed your bag, a mask, slipped your shoes on. You walked out the door before turning around, forgetting the most important thing. Coffee. After grabbing it, you finally made it out into the beautiful autumn air.

Walking down the streets of Seoul reminded you of where you lived before moving to Korea. The city with buildings that touched the sky and streets that were busy but there was still a routine to it. Every day that you walked to work, you would be by the same few people who left your apartment building at the same time. You’ve never said anything to them, but the familiarity comforted you. Not seeing them today as you left made you feel strange, and left a bad feeling in your gut. You took a small sip of your coffee, feeling it help calm you a bit.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you sighed, reaching for it. A text message from Haewon, followed by some from Minjun. Then an Instagram notification from your personal account, followed by an absolute explosion of like and comment notifications from your brand's account.

Confused, you don’t remember having anything to announce or queued up to post, you logged into the Luxe account. There, a black background with a lopsided A with a crescent shape behind it in white. You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, just staring at the symbol. The words coming soon sat in the caption.

“What the fuck!?” You muttered to yourself, staring at the screen. The likes and comments that came flooding in in so many languages made your head spin. You squinted at your phone and tried to start reading some of the comments when you felt something careen into your back, causing you to momentarily lose your balance.

You took a step forward to balance yourself, and you felt a hand clasp around your wrist, assuming to be steadying you as well.

“Shit. I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” You looked up at the wrecking ball of a man who had just ran into you. The already cooled coffee spilt out of the little opening of your cup, onto the concrete and all over your hand.

He wore a blue and white plaid shirt. Ralph Lauren you noted. A Balmain shirt peeked out from underneath. Okay. Balmain. Interesting. A black bucket hat that hid most of his hair, but you saw small tufts of blue hair sticking out. Ripped black jeans and a pair of converse on his feet with a messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

“You made me spill my coffee.” You bluntly said to him. The abstract splatter started to stain the concrete. You shook your hand out, shaking away some of the liquid. You pulled yourself away from him and straightened yourself out. He started digging in his bag for something, and you felt some napkins land in your hand.

“I always carry some on me,” he said. You saw his ears turn a little red as he brought a hand up to the back of his neck. “I have clumsy friends.”

You looked at him, unamused, as your phone kept going off. Accepting the napkins with a small head nod, you wiped your hands off.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded. “I’m fine.” You guestured to him with you handful of soggy napkins. “Thanks for these.”

“Right.” The silence between you became awkward. “Sorry again. I’ll buy you a replacement if you’d like?”

“Oh. Um.” You weren’t sure what to make of his offer. “I’m very particular about my coffee. I’m also in a rush.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry again.” He bowed to you, ears bright red and quickly walked around you, turning the corner and vanished from your sight.

You watched his retreating back in confusion, before shaking yourself out of it and started towards your office again, faster and more determined than before. Each step you took made you more and more furious over whatever stunt your team just pulled in the middle of your own personal crisis.

***

“She’s going to be so mad at you.” Haewon paced in front of the floor to ceiling windows that looked down on the fashion district of Seoul. Her heels clicking on the tile floor each step she took. Nervously, she switched between biting the tips of her chestnut colored hair to running her fingers through it.

Minjun sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “I know. But it’ll make her stop stressing for the moment and give her and the media something else to focus on for the time being.” He picked up his phone to show his older sister. “Look. All the likes and comments flooding in. The fans are excited! Luxe hasn’t worked with a group of people before! It’s always been one on one! And with them, you know they’ll want every moment documented! Especially this time of year.” Minjun got more and more passionate as he spoke, almost to the point of yelling.

Haewon stopped her pacing and looked at him. “Look. I understand that. But you should’ve at least discussed this with her first! I know it was a very sudden thing, and something that you got literally as soon as you called and made the offer. But. Eight men? With a short deadline? And they want to document it? I thought the point was to get her face out of the media, not in it more!” She sat herself in her chair, to the right of the head of the table. “You know how she gets. She won’t sleep until she gets it done.” Haewon leaned on the table and rested her face in her hands, pushing her bangs off her forehead. “This is going to be bad. I can feel it.”

“We just don’t tell her that it’ll be documented and write it into the contract that they keep her face blurred. Like she’s staff. It’ll be easy.”

Haewon laughed and slid her chair back to the window, on the lookout for you. She decided to ignore her brother. Her eyes widened as she saw your silhouette stalking towards the door of the building. She saw you give a nod to the doorman as he checked your pass and let you in.

“Uh oh.” She smirked a bit. “She’s mad. Like. Mad mad. You are so fucked.” She couldn’t deny that she was excited about watching you absolutely destroy her brother.

“MINJUN!” They heard you yell from where you exited the elevator. Minjun swallowed nervously as he realized how upset you actually were.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” The meeting room door slammed open, revealing your flushed features and hardened eyes. You smaller your coffee mug onto the table, making the last few drops spill out of it. Unceremoniously, your purse dropped to the floor as you turned to glare at your PR rep.

Minjun swallowed again and started stuttering out his excuse. “People are excited! They’re not talking about you being exposed anymore!” Minjun shoved his phone in your face, as you seethed at him.

Sighing, you walked over to your chair and slumped down, your body deflating as you processed his words. You rubbed your forehead, a sudden headache blooming behind your eyes. “I don’t care Minjun. You should’ve talked about this with me first. I-“

The door swung open again and in walked in Seokhoon. He ran a hand through his long hair and shook it out. You heard Haewon swoon as she studied him.

You shook your head at the love-struck girl and stood up, greeting him with a respectful bow of your head. “Seokhoon. Thank you for meeting with us.” You shot a look over your shoulder at the pair in the room behind you. “We seem to be in a situation.”

His eyes roamed the room over your shoulder, and when they landed on Haewon, he smiled. “So I heard. Why do you need my help?”

“You dated Soomin.” Grumbled Haewon. She crossed her arms and pouted slightly as Seokhoon made his way towards her. He took her chin in his hand and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. You saw her melt at his touch. “You know how to calm her down.”

He smiled down at her again and ran his hand through her hair. “She likes attention. Either get the media to talk about her or get someone more famous than her to ‘sweep her off her feet.’” He scrunched his nose at that last statement. “That’s why she did this in the first place. She wanted attention since she knew she wasn’t going to win tonight, and her show was a flop.”

You grimaced. “So she decided to drag me into this too?”

“She’s mad at you for working with me, and because I fell for Hae.” He and Haewon made eye contact and you can tell that they went into their own world for a moment. You heard Minjun gag in the background, which caused the couple to come back to reality.

Seokhoon turned to you and pulled out his phone. “I saw the Luxe post. Working with Ateez is a good move. Soomin has been after one of the members for the longest time. If you can get them together, she’ll leave you alone, and dispatch will have other things to talk about.” He leaned back in his chair and shoved his hands into the pocket of his leather jacket. “It’s simple. Give her the attention she wants.” He shrugged.

You threw your hands up in frustration. “I’m a fashion designer, not a matchmaker!” You started pacing in the same spot Haewon had when waiting for you. “I didn’t even agree to this collaboration in the first place.”

“Well,” he started, pushing himself up off his chair. “You better get on board fast. Ateez are big and can get your face out of the media. To a lot of people, it could be the collab of the century.” He winked at you as he reached for the door handle. “Make me proud.”

You rolled your eyes at his back as he walked out. Haewon followed closely behind him, sparing a glance at you, asking permission to leave. You nodded and she called out for him to wait. The door closed and you were left in an uncomfortable silence.

Sitting there made you think about everything that could go wrong and you started convincing yourself that it wouldn’t work, and that no matter what, you’ll be followed and used.

“Hey,” Minjun rested his hand on top of yours. The contact helped ground you for the moment. You looked at him. “He’s right, you know. Your face may still be there for a bit, but once the designs come out, all this will be in the past.”

You groaned. “How soon can you get me a meeting with them?” Your voice sounded muffled as you took your hat off and laid face down on the table.

“I can get you with them by the end of the week.” He pulled out his phone and started sending emails. “You’re taking this better than I thought you would.” He paused, reading something. “I want you to do a press conference too. Address what Soomin has done and said about you and our brand.” He said it so casually. Like he was talking about the weather.

You groaned into the table. “You know there was a reason I wanted to stay anonymous. I hate having all the attention on me.”

“Yes yes. I know. But it’s inevitable. Pick your head up. It’s not the end of the world.” You heard his phone ding and him type more out. “When do you want the meeting with Ateez, and the press conference?”

You groaned again. “The sooner the better.” Sighing in resignation, waving your hand at him, dismissing him. You heard him roll his chair back and get up, and finally the door shutting behind him.

Minjun paused by the door, hand on the knob. “You’ll do great y/n. If Haewon and I both love you, the media will too.” He sent you a reassuring smile, even though your head was still buried in your arms, and left, softly closing the door behind him.

After hearing the click of the door being closed, you took a moment to yourself, taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself down a bit and process what has happened in the last 24 hours.

You stood up, deciding to stop wallowing in your own self pity, and to do what you normally do when you work with a new client. You were going to go home and do some research. You snatched your hat, and walked by Minjun in the hall, talking endlessly into his phone. You nodded at him and headed down to the lobby.

You exited the building, not realizing there was a crowd of people lined up at the front of the building. Walking out, you were assaulted by flashing lights and people yelling your name and rapid fire questions at you to get your attention. You froze, and the feeling of Minjun coming up behind you, resting a hand at the small of your back made you shield your face as he made a path through the sea of dispatch, to the waiting black van. Once you were safely in, he climbed in behind you and slammed the door.

Your life as you know it, is about to change