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delos-mio · 3 years ago

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Out Of The Woods - college!AU - PART 3

A/N: I’m partial to this chapter, but perhaps that’s just me. I’ve not gotten a lot of feedback on this series sooooo idk if I’m just sharing it for me at this point lol but I’m having fun and that’s what matters, right?! Anyways I’m always around for thoughts, feelings, questions!

Only an essay, a few chapters of reading, and a couple shifts at work separated you from your hang out with Nikolai. You found yourself wondering what he was up to, what made him smile that day, what he’d look like on top of you now. That last one tended to linger a minute before you violently shook it from your head. You hardly knew each other anymore, not to mention you had a boyfriend- you couldn’t let yourself start to fantasize about him like that. But he was so sweet and gentle, so sassy and smart. It didn’t hurt that he was still painfully handsome either.

You were sitting at work, more or less twiddling your thumbs, when you felt a buzzing against the white countertop of the receptionist desk you sat behind. When you looked at the screen, an unknown number appeared. You unlocked your phone and opened your texts. Seeing the first line preview made your heart leap into your throat immediately.

N: Hey it’s Nik. Just thought you should have my number too :)

Y: Hey there you glad you didn’t lose that paper

N: I could never! What are you up to?

Y: Just at work, pretty slow today so I’m kinda bored

N: Hopefully I can keep you a little company. Where do you work?

Y: John Richard Salon- it’s that one downtown across from that hot dog place

N: Oh yeah! Seen it a million times. Do you do hair? Is that a secret talent of yours?

Y: God no lol I’d be horrible at it. I don’t have the dexterity for it. I’m just their receptionist

N: “Just” please I’m sure you’re their best employee

You stopped to roll your eyes, but also couldn’t stop the heat from rising on your cheeks.

N: Do you like it?

Y: It’s pretty good for a low responsibility job- it pays the bills too so I’m not complaining

N: That always helps

Your name had been called from off to your side, making your head snap up and you locked eyes with Deja, who was easily your favorite coworker. “And just what has you smiling like an idiot? Hm?” she asked with a smirk and leaned across the counter from you.

“Remember that guy I was telling you about from the party?”

“Oh yeah, the one you fucked in high school?” she teased.

You let out a long sigh. “Well, he just texted me. We’re supposed to hang out on Friday,” you said confidently, raising your chin in her direction to show her there was nothing of consequence going on between you and Nikolai.

“Hang out. Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Deja looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you could only respond with a look of your own.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you laughed. “Seriously. We haven’t hung out in years and it’s nice to have someone to hang out with who knows me. And wants to hang out with me,” you added under your breath.

“Don’t tell me Matt is back on his bullshit…”

You simply raised your thumb and index finger just slightly apart, squinting at the space between them.

As you were catching her up on the last week, John walked over and flipped over the open sign, locking the glass door in front of him. You took that as your sign to help clean up so you could get out of there as soon as possible. The girls all pitched in, sweeping up the few stray clumps of hair on the old wooden floor and wiped down all the counters for the morning.

While you were on the bus for the short ride back to your apartment, you suddenly remembered the conversation you were having with Nikolai before you closed up shop. You cursed under your breath and pulled out your phone again, quickly thumbing a message back.

Y: Sorry! I got caught up closing

N: No sorry needed, you were at work after all

Y: lol I suppose that’s true. They don’t pay me to sit around and look pretty

N: They should

Y: Oh god lol stop

N: Have I told you that I’m really looking forward to Friday?

Y: No but I’m looking forward to it too

You had since made it home and crawled into bed, happy to finally be off your feet and talking to the boy who disarmed you with a single smile. For the next few hours, the two of you texted back and forth, mostly about classes and work, but you couldn’t stop yourself from occasionally flirting with Nikolai. You really needed to work on actively not doing that, but you allowed yourself one last evening of toying with him. When the clock rolled over to 1am, the lids of your eyes were beginning to grow heavy and a long yawn escaped from your lips.

Y: I think I’m going to fall asleep on you I’m sorry

N: Holy shit I didn’t realize it was so late

N: I should get to bed too. I have a presentation in the morning

Y: Don’t let me keep you up!

N: But darling that’s all I want ;)

N: Sweet dreams- I’ll see you Friday

Y: Goodnight Nik

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Friday finally came and you were nervous as you fixed your hair one last time in the wide bathroom mirror. You opted for tight jeans, a pretty low cut tank, and a zip up hoodie. There was no way you were going to just hang out at his house looking like you were ready for the club, but you still wanted to remind Nikolai that you were cute. Genya had already left for the night, so you weren’t able to have a second set of eyes give your outfit the final approval; you could really use the reassurance right about now. As you casually boosted your chest one more time, there was a light knock at the front door. You opened it to Nikolai in a skin-tight tee for your school and a light canvas jacket. His hair was perfectly disheveled and his jeans clung tight to his thick thighs. You caught him giving you a long onceover before giving you a wide smile.

“You look amazing,” he breathed out, pulling you in for a tight embrace. You let your hands wander over his broad back, exploring the pull of his muscles under his jacket.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you smirked as you pulled apart. You locked up behind you and let Nikolai walk you downstairs and out to his car.

“Pizza?” he asked, one hand low on your back, the other gesturing vaguely you assumed in the direction of the car.

“I thought you’d never ask,” you smiled from ear to ear. Immediately, you could see the tension leave Nikolai’s shoulders. As you stepped foot into the parking lot, the sky decided it was the perfect time to open up and unleashed a sheet of rain unlike any you’d had so far this fall. You yelped as it began to pour, throwing your hood over your head. Nikolai acted quickly and threw off his jacket, holding it high above your head to keep you dry as you both splashed quickly to his car. This gesture made your heart swell; you were starting to think Nikolai may be a real lift knight in shining armor. He opened your door and made sure you were out of the rain before joining you and whipping his soaked coat in the backseat. You were both laughing at the situation and he was visibly relieved that you took the whole hiccup in stride. “Let’s get fucking dry ,” you laughed and he needed no further request to set off in the direction of his apartment.

Nikolai actually didn’t live too far from you, you realized when he pulled up across the street from the brown duplex. It was still raining when you parked and you again sprinted to the front porch in a desperate attempt to stay a little dry. When you got close to the door, you realized that it was a lot louder inside than you thought it would be. Nikolai must have noticed too because his jaw immediately set, irritation flashing behind his hazel eyes.

“Fucking Aleks,” he muttered under his breath before pushing the door open. A large party was taking place, unbeknownst to Nikolai. There were people passing in front of them, a lively game of beer pong in process, and more than one person going through their cupboards. Nikolai gestured for you to head inside and he slammed the door shut behind him. “Do you mind waiting here for just one second? I have to talk to Aleks quick,” he asked quietly into your ear, his hand resting on the side of your face. You nodded and he gave you a small smile before setting off for the kitchen. Aleks was laughing against the fridge with a couple other guys, barely registering it when Nikolai was standing in front of him, arms crossed tight over his chest.

“Dude! I thought you said you were going to the baseball house!” Nikolai scolded.

“Nikolai! I’m so glad you’re here, man. No, we decided to have people over here instead. We’re always at the baseball house,” Aleks smiled, giving Nikolai a friendly punch to his shoulder; Nikolai didn’t budge an inch.

“I kinda had plans here tonight, remember?” he said through gritted teeth, giving a small nod back towards where you stood. Aleks’s face dropped as it all came back to him.

“I am so sorry man, I totally forgot.”

“Obviously,” Nikolai scoffed.

“I mean it. It slipped my mind. I’m really sorry dude.” It was hard for Nikolai to stay mad at Aleks for long, if at all. You saw Aleks give Nikolai a long hug, evidently sorting out whatever disagreement they just had. Nikolai made his way back to you, a little less high strung.

“C’mon,” he said and took your hand, leading you around the corner to a short hallway. He led you into a room and quietly shut the door behind you. The first thing that struck you was all of the maps and works in progress strewn across his desk and hanging on the walls. You walked around in awe and marveled at Nikolai’s decor. He had numerous prints of classic paintings and frescoes, almost all of them related to myths or historical events.

“Nikolai, this is amazing! It’s so,” your head was spinning as you looked at all of his art, “it’s incredible.” You turned back to him and he was right behind you, an amused smile pulling at his lips.

“I’m so sorry. I thought we’d be able to come and spend some time together without 80 other people.” He looked genuinely upset that he couldn’t follow through with his plan of having dinner and talking all night on the couch.

“Hey, it’s ok. We can still hang out. Why don’t we make an appearance, play a game of beer pong or whatever, and then we can watch a movie in here or something?” you offered. Nikolai’s face lifted a little at that and he lightly squeezed your hand, nodding his head in agreement. “I gotta get out of this hoodie, though. It’s fucking soaking,” you laughed.

You shed the wet garment and hung it carefully on the back of one of the chairs near you. Nikolai had changed out of his wet shirt as well; he must have moved in the blink of an eye because you didn’t even notice him switch clothes. When you looked at him again, his gaze was fixed on you, his expression hard to read. “What is it?” you finally asked with a nervous laugh as punctuation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said with a small smile. You looked down at yourself- your hair was a complete rat's nest, shirt and jeans soaked through, and though you hadn’t looked in a mirror you could feel your makeup was a mess too. And here he was, arguably the most handsome man you’d ever met, lost for words as you stood in front of him. You bit down on your bottom lip and shook your head before taking him by the hand and leading him back into the party.

Nikolai grabbed each of you a drink and you wandered together to the beer pong table where Aleks was taking his last shot with his partner. Aleks grinned when he saw the two of you walk up and declared he was playing you next after he ‘kicked their ass’. He sunk the last shot and whooped loudly, high-fiving with his partner. Nikolai took his place on the opposite end of the table with you and re-racked the cups.

“Sorry I’m about to embarrass you in front of your date, Nik,” Aleks smirked arrogantly. Nikolai only bounced the light ball against the table top, catching it swiftly on the back of his long fingers. He repeated the trick, unbothered by Aleks and his shit talking, also not correcting him that you were not in fact on a date.

“We’ll just see about that,” he laughed as his first shot sank directly into the front cup. You giggled with him and took a shot of your own, somehow making another shot. You’d played a few times before, but you didn’t consider yourself skilled by any means- certainly not as skilled as these boys. Nikolai was so proud of you, he threw his arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his side. “Good luck, man.”

Aleks was frustrated as his winning streak began to slip through his fingers. Nikolai was clearly the better player, which was making Aleks crazy, though he had also had about five more drinks than Nikolai. You only made one more shot after your beginner’s luck, but Nikolai didn’t mind at all. He happily carried your team and took care of the remaining cups, always encouraging you when you made a lousy toss. Before long, Nikolai was flicking his wrists high over his head like he was making a free throw and sinking the winning shot. The small crowd around the table cheered and Aleks grumpily crossed his arms. Nikolai gathered you in his arms and lifted you easily off the ground, spinning you with him as you celebrated your very first beer pong victory, all thanks to Nikolai.

“Better luck next time!” you taunted sarcastically and Aleks finally gave you a small smile. The next team in line took your spot and you slid back into the crowd undetected and back to Nikolai’s room. “I didn’t know you were good at every sport,” you teased before taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

“Is beer pong really a sport?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. He walked over to stand in front of you and ran his hand over your finally drying hair. “Movie time?”

“Yes,” you replied simply, possibly a little too quickly. Nikolai smiled at you before walking over to his bed. He pulled back the covers and crawled onto his side of the bed, patting the spot next to him, inviting you in. He had chosen some movie to put on evidently, but you truthfully didn’t notice what. You flicked off the lights and jumped in next to him with a smile. Nikolai laid out on his back and you curled up comfortably on his chest.

“I had a really good time tonight, rain storm and surprise party and all,” he said, his voice low in your ear.

“Me too,” you said with a smile, still distracted by the art on his walls. “What inspired your decor choices?”

Nikolai turned his head to look at the picture of the Minotaur over his desk. “As you know, I’m a history major,” he started. “My concentration is in classical studies, specifically the Hellenistic period.” He rolled his neck to face you again. “That’s actually my favorite myth.”

“You know, for being a creative writing major, my Greek mythology is a little rusty,” you prompted, leveling your most charming smile at Nikolai.

“Would you like me to regale you with the tale?” he asked with a dramatic flourish.

“I’m all ears, Mr. Lantsov,” you laughed, positioning yourself so you could rest your chin on your hands laying on his chest and gaze up at him.

“Alright. So, Minos had just become the ruler of the island of Crete, but was still in competition with his brother for power. He prayed to Poseidon to send him a sign of the god’s favor- a bright white bull. Minos was tasked to sacrifice the bull to honor Poseidon, but he was so enamored with the bull that he decided to keep him, believing Poseidon would accept an alternate sacrifice.” Nikolai absently petted your hair.

“But he didn’t?”

“He did not,” Nikolai laughed. “As punishment, Poseidon made Minos’ wife, Pasipahae, fall in love with the bull.”

“Such a Greek god thing to do.” You smiled up at him.

“Isn’t it?” Nikolai beamed back. “Pasiphae had the master craftsman Daedalus create a hollow, wooden cow for her to climb in so she could mate with the bull. And thus, the Minotaur was created. Pasiphae did her best to nurse and raise the Minotaur as a babe, but he grew too fast and became unruly. Minos consulted the oracle at Delphi on what to do, and as a result commissioned Daedalus to construct a gigantic labyrinth to house the Minotaur under the palace in Knossos.”

“Years go by, and one of Minos’ sons is killed by the Athenians, who I guess were jealous of a string of recent victories by the king. From here, there are a few versions on why Athens begins sending youths as tribute, but the most common is that Minos waged and won a war to avenge the death of his son. As the losers, Minos required the Athenians to send seven youths and seven maidens to be sent every seventh year to cast into the labyrinth to be consumed by the Minotaur.”

“The third sacrifice came around and the hero Theseus,” Nikolai started, contempt clear in his voice, “volunteered to go as a sacrifice to Crete to slay the Minotaur. He told his father, Aegeus, that he would put up a white sail when he came back home if he was successful, but would have the crew put up black sails if he was killed by the Minotaur. Once he was in Crete, Minos' daughter Ariadne fell head over heels for Theseus and helped him navigate the labyrinth. In most versions of the story, she gave him a ball of string so he could retrace his steps and a sword to slay the beast. Story goes that he killed the Minotaur and led the Athenians out of the labyrinth, sailing away with them and Ariadne away from Crete.”

“I’m gathering that you’re not a Theseus fan,” you said, eyes still trained on Nikolai’s face. “Why?”

“A number of reasons.” Nikolai paused, clearly deciding on how much he wanted to nerd out. “One being that on the way back to Athens, Theseus abandoned Ariadne on the island of Naxos. He forgot, however, to put up the white sail like he told his father he would. Aegeus saw the black-sailed ship approach and threw himself into the sea, presuming Theseus was dead. But doing so just secured the throne for Theseus. The other being that he murdered the Minotaur.”

“But didn’t the Minotaur kill a bunch of kids?”

“Or was he fed children after being abandoned by his mother, unaware of any other way to live? I don’t subscribe to the idea that the Minotaur is a monster. There’s also quite a bit of evidence that suggests Ariadne saw him as a brother, having to make the impossible choice of her ‘abomination’ of a brother and a man who had convinced her he was in love with her.” Nikolai spoke with such passion and knowledge that it made your stomach tighten. This was a Nikolai not many got to see, a Nikolai you wanted to hold and kiss and laugh with. Fuck, you were in so far over your head.

He’d never been more attractive to you than in that moment. The light from the TV dancing on his perfect cheekbones, his hazel eyes dark as he spoke. “I don’t know. I have a soft spot for him. I feel like the Minotaur got a raw deal.”

“Well, you’ve made me a believer,” you smiled and the way Nickolai beamed back at you made the heat rise in your chest.

“You should stay here tonight.”

“Nik,” you sighed, rolling off him. “You know I can’t do that.” He had no idea how badly you wanted to just scream out ‘yes’.

“I know, I know,” he conceded, staring straight up at the ceiling. “Really wish you could, though.”

“Someday.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked with an arched eyebrow.

“I’m not the oracle at Delphi,” you said over your shoulder, making him snort. “I can’t tell the future.”

TAGGED: @agentsofsheilds

#Nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone #grishaverse #prince nikolai #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov au #shadow and bone au #grishaverse au #nikolai lantsov fanfic #shadow and bone fanfic #grishaverse fanfic #masterlist #ootw

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lacewise · 5 months ago

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Can I put my dream lace shop across the street and a little tucked away? The staff and I create fully handmade lace in a number of disciplines (crochet, knitting, needle lace, bobbin lace, etc) and embroidery services and we teach classes and tutor others on how to make lace, generally for one time special events (mostly for proms, coming of age parties, and weddings for the serious DIYers). The “front” of the shop is a room where I meet clients for consultations and commissions, behind that is a room with large tables (for the classes), displays, thread and other materials, and premade lace pieces (which also has a door to outside if people just want to browse), and running behind both walls is the design studio (set up like a classroom, with desks) where the staff makes new designs and lace commissions when it gets hectic on the main floor.

Everyone who asks gets a free pamphlet on how to launder lace that has detailed instructions on what not to do and why. With pictured examples of the results. (This also available online in a screen reader accessible format, as well as in braille and in other languages.)

However, we will still mend or replace the silk lace you put in the washing machine on high heat two days before your wedding. There will be fees.

If someone makes their own design and it gets popular, we’ll give them royalties every time it’s bought, the lace shop is accessible (braille for each display, of course, and wheelchair accessible throughout), there are washrooms (separate ones for employees and customers), and my staff is unionized. They can strike against me for better working conditions any time.

The cashier is encouraged to spend the day seated comfortably, take hourly breaks, and read or otherwise occupy their time between customers.

Sometimes, very lovely people fall in love with a piece and it’s just outside their price range and there isn’t enough time to learn to make it themselves. They ✨magically✨ qualify for a discount.

While we don’t expect the same problems as our neighbours (but, to be clear, my staff is unionized and they can and will yell at you or throw you out), we do ask that people with food or drink politely stay on the all-weather porch patio, where we will bring them waterproof catalogues of our offerings to browse through at their leisure. (We want to keep the relaundering and restarching before purchasing to a minimum.) Afterwards, you’re welcome to wash your hands and look around. (I realize this seems hypocritical given my behaviour during consults—however I always wash my hands before returning to the floor too. No one is free from the rules.)

There will be a public park next door. With tables and trees. And people are welcome to just hang out and use the tables for writing (teens welcome!) when there aren’t classes going on. Sometimes, someone will even set up a lace demo when there’s a crowd. If they need to research something specific, there’s a bookstore across the way. If they need snacks for the patio/park, there is, of course, the pizza place.

What’s in the back/basement? Don’t worry about it (lace and thread experiments, lace research, staff training, and the break room.)

While the upstairs apartment and elevator are very lovely, I actually live a couple blocks away. That’s an emergency apartment if anyone needs any short-term housing (no long-term live-ins please, I am not trying to reinvent the company town!). Family members often stay there but they have a separate entrance and everyone is briefed. Strict rules must be followed (for the safety of everyone involved). Customers often make that mistake because it’s like I live in the walls! Don’t worry about it.

It’s all very leisurely and there are no high-pressure sales tactics. We do what we can to assist our pizza and bookstore neighbours (donations, fundraisers, that sort of thing) and most of our hires are people who previously took classes from us (very often on scholarship—the criteria for which no one is sure they understand, and frequently involves past cashiers who were noticed at the jobs’ board.) The initial hires were likewise a mix of locals and artists being displaced (hence, emergency housing).

We additionally sell materials (similar to embroidery and crafting stores) with a focus on high quality goods, handmade goods from local suppliers (like handspun thread), and recycled materials.

While we do have a website, everyone recommends coming in person. The website is minimalistic and dreamy, designed to help you find what you’re looking for, and often involves consulting with us anyway.

It’s an expensive shop, of course, but we’re always donating older designs to thrift shops and alterations stores (we’re hoping for one in the neighborhood soon) and our time to teaching basics classes when asked (in any relevant discipline, including drawing).

We also have a section where designs are ✨randomly✨ on steep discount and where, for even less money, you can grab a ✨mystery design✨. Just so as many people as possible can experience handmade items.

People are encouraged to sponsor prototypes and research projects (prototypes are cheap but risky and research projects are their expensive counterparts).

We, of course, sponsor other collectives working in other fibre disciplines.

Every time people ask me why the lacemakers don’t work remotely I explain, in great detail, that they can (and some do) but historically lacemakers at home were devalued as artists and craftspeople and we have ergonomic setups here and people enjoy the community—

The hope is that a costume shop or photography studio moves down the street so we can rent them out our wares and people can experience the lace before coming to our shop. That way people can play dress up while in the neighborhood! A seamstress or tailor nearby my shop would likewise be great. And I definitely would want someone to open street food places and a dessert place that sells chocolate covered strawberries and candy apples!

Anyway I will be hoping other people’s dreams cover those (and, hopefully, a night market to go with street vendors).

If I had more money than I'd ever spend in a lifetime, I'd spend my life operating a pizzeria at a loss. Something with the slogan of "it ain't italian but you're hungry" - and a statement of how this is not authentic italian pizza because the owner's estranged aunt's italian ex-husband would not serve pizza in his italian restaurant because as far as he was concerned, a pizza is the "just throw that shit together" dish that you make out of leftovers, and he would not serve that to paying customers even if they wanted it. True story btw.

But I'd just like to run a place where the staff is allowed to tell rude customers to fuck off. And if they're scared to do that, they can summon me downstairs to do it myself (this fantasy involves having my own apartment upstairs of the restaurant), because you don't fucking disrespect my staff like that. Develop a reputation as a place where You'd Better Act Yourself or you get nothing, which elevates the quality of the food in peoples' minds because it's human to assume that more work=more worth, and if a pizza place can afford to simply throw rude customers out, that clearly must mean that the food is just that good that going back is worth it anyway.

Hiring enough people to get the work done in a leisurely pace and occasionally have the time to chat with each other or customers. You just do the job I gave you in the time I gave you, don't steal anything and don't watch porn off your phone anywhere where the customers can see you, you're good. Don't care if you quit school at 16 if you can still mop floor. Don't care if you've been to prison because you killed some guy, as long as you're not doing that here. Don't care if you deal drugs on your free time as long as you don't bring your business to your day job. This place is exclusively for pizza business.

Have an item on the menu called "random pizza" - and if you order that one, they'll just throw in a mix of whatever ingredients we've got too much of, like if the bell peppers gotta be used before they go bad, every single random pizza is going to have them until they're either gone or need to get tossed. If you've got dietary restrictions or allergies, you gotta specify that while ordering, because other than that, random pizza is just whatever ingredients we need to get rid of. Surplus ingredients du jour.

Building a reputation as a place that's somehow simultaneously sketchy as hell but also remarkably high quality, getting five star restaurant customer service from a waiter with blue hair and stick-n-poke tattoos, there's a homeless guy at the back of the kitchen eating an order that nobody picked up, every surface is spotless and no matter how important of a suit-and-tie you are, if you won't behave yourself the owner will personally physically fight you.

#dream shop #this is also my retirement plan prev #food mention #lace discussion #lace shop #imagine a handmade lace shop with a union #my shop is explicitly meant to be part of a wider community and it literally only works in combination with other businesses (on purpose)#because that’s what I’d if I had money

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pradaksj · 4 years ago

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7 Rings | 01

♛ pairing: taehyung/reader

♛ rating: mature

♛ word count: 12,000+

♛ warnings for this chapter : explicit language, terminal illness, this chapter basically just sets the foundation of this story up so sorry if it’s a little boring

♛ summary: In need of money for your mom’s medical bills, you and your best friend come up with a plan to infiltrate one of Seoul’s richest families, the Kim family. The plan was simple, blackmail, get your money, and disappear, but of course things don’t always go as planned. Especially not with someone like Kim Taehyung.

━ ❝ Whoever said money can't solve your problems, must not have had enough money to solve 'em. ❞

♛ chapter index/masterlist || series masterlist || next chapter

Chapters⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08

“Why Y/N?” his voice cracks, the look of betrayal evidently on his face.

"I never—" you sobbed. Your throat felt swollen and you stuttered, pitifully trying to speak the words in your head. "I never meant for it to go this far," you said at last.

How did you end up here? Where did everything go wrong? When had the rabbit hole simply become too deep? The sounds of several voices echoed in your head.

You could hear him calling your name, begging no demanding an answer, but all you could do was stare off into space, thinking of everything that led up this exact moment.

If only you could turn back time.

3 Months Ago.

Friday Morning.

“In today’s news, the Kim family’s multibillion dollar deal has been officially confirmed. Their partnership with Hyundai is estimated to bring in at least seven billion in revenue to Korea’s economy over the next 5 years. Both parties have agreed to terms that will lift…”

Oh the irony.

Sighing, you turned off the radio of your run-down 2006 grey Hyundai, which every morning you had to cross your fingers and hope that the engine wouldn't burn out on you. The rumbling sounds of the engine starting up never failing to catch the attention of pedestrians walking by.

After several frustrating minutes of struggling to parallel park, you sat in your car and allowed yourself to sulk for a moment. Another day, another dollar to make. Even if it meant having to deal with rude and entitled customers all day, your school loans plus your bills just weren’t going to pay themselves off anytime soon.

“One day at a time Y/N, just one day at a time,” you reassured yourself, placing on your mandatory logoed hat, and mentally preparing yourself for another day. If only you were rich.

Friday Night.

Despite being tired from work, visiting your mom was something you always felt like you needed to do every so often, plus her homemade meals were quite often a bonus considering how lazy you’d often get to cook food for yourself. In fact, the pizza shop near your apartment not only having your order, but voice completely memorized for whenever you called. The young employee quickly interrupting your greeting with a, “Pepperoni pizza, half sausage, half Hawaiian, and a pink lemonade?” surprisingly no longer offended you as much as it would back in the beginning.

Your mom certainly didn’t mind the company as it inevitably got quite lonely living by herself, but she knew she couldn’t smother you forever as much as she would love to. College was a necessity for you in her eyes, a ticket to a better life that wouldn’t require you to scrub the floors of the rich as she did.

And maybe it was because you were more mature nowadays, but conversations with her had now also seemed to be much more meaningful. Well that and the two of you didn’t butt heads as much as you used to compared to when you were nothing but a temperamental teenager whose biggest life crisis was whether your crush glanced at you in the hallway or not.

Of course the boundary and respect of a mother-daughter relationship was always there, some of your jokes sometimes garnering a “I’m not your friend, I’m your mother” speech from her, but nonetheless your relationship with her in a way was very much like a friendship. It seemed as if with every visit you learned new things about her, the different stories she shared with you from her youth always having an underlying lesson that you could apply to your own life.

“I really needed this,” you said while chewing on a mouthful of bulgogi. Small stains of sauce at the corners of your mouth, as your mom’s cooking never failed to make you feel like a little kid. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her now twenty one year old daughter who in her heart was always going to be just a little girl.

She got up from the small wooden dining chair, picking up any leftover dinnerware as she prepared to start washing dishes, all while at the same time listening to you as you babbled on about work.

“I mean really, how hard is it to say thank you,” you rolled your eyes, dramatically sticking your chopstick into your bowl, as you were recalling one of today’s customers who kept snapping their fingers at you as if you were their very own personal servant.

“Well it’s a good thing it’s summer, you don’t have to worry about college so mu—” The sound of glass shattering on the floor abruptly caught your attention. You looked up at your mom who was now dead silent, her face which was now extremely pale, and her breathing which had suddenly became erratic. What you didn't know was that your mom had suddenly felt as if the world spinning, the feeling of disorientation becoming too overwhelming.

“Mom? Are you okay?” you quickly got up, grabbing your mom by the forearm in a means of trying to redirect her from the kitchen to the couch at an attempt to get her to relax. You unlocked your phone, fingers slightly trembling as you called the ambulance.

“Just breathe okay. You’re gonna be okay,” you kept trying to reassure your mom as you waited for them to pick up which at the moment felt like an eternity. Your leg was bouncing up and down in anticipation as you kept glancing at your mom who was trying to keep her breathing in control and her eyes open. “Do not close your eyes on me, you hear me?” your voice began to feel shaky, eyelids brimming with tears, the pulsating feeling of panic flowing through your veins.

“Hello, what’s your emergency?”

You hated hospitals. Who didn’t? The smell, the yellow-toned ugly lighting, and the feeling of anxiousness the whole place gave people. For you though, the hospital was a reminder of tragedy, a reminder that whatever comes in here never walks out the same whether you’re a patient or not. Fifteen years ago, it made your mom a widow left having to pay remaining hospital bills all while having to raise her six year old daughter.

So here you were now, fifteen years later sitting at her bedside waiting for her to wake up, stuck in the same position she once was. You stared up at the ceiling counting each time the overhead lights flickered as you tried not to get so lost into your thoughts. Everything had happened in what felt like was the blink of an eye, guilt was beginning to seep in. Why hadn’t noticed anything earlier? Maybe in some miraculous way you could’ve prevented this, you thought to yourself.

You turned on the small TV that the hospital provided in every room, flipping through several channels hoping you'd find something that would be able to distract you.

“Shut up and kis—” K-drama. Next.

“Watch ou—” Action movie. Next.

“Kim Taehyung gets physical with paparazzi, the heir to Kim Enterprises spotted —” but before you could place your full attention to the entertainment newscast you turned your attention to your mother who was now beginning to shift in her sleep, her eyes now slowly opening, clearly in a daze as to where she was and how she got there.

“Hey ma,” you softly whispered, giving her a warm smile as you held her hand tighter, beginning to rub small circles on her palm.

“W-what happened Y/N?”

“You fain-”

“Ah you’re finally up,” you turned towards the door, seeing who you assumed was the doctor in charge now walking in.

For a doctor she appeared quite young, her petite figure and wrinkle free skin a defining factor in her appearance. You formally greeted her, a wave of anxiousness now overcoming you. “Dr. Whitney Han'' is what her name tag read, but it was what was in small font beneath her name that made your heart feel as if it feel down to the pit of your stomach. “Oncologist,” meaning doctors who specialize in the study and treatment for cancer.

Faintly clearing her throat, “Hello, I’m Dr. Han,” she introduced herself, reaching her hand out for you to shake. She smiled at your mom who was still in a slightly groggy state, but aware nonetheless. “So Ms. Y/L/N, you seemed to have suffered from what we call a syncope, meaning an episode of passing out, it’s usually caused by insufficient blood flow to the brain, a result of hypotension,” you nodded following along with what she was saying,

“When episodes such as these occur, it tends to mean that there’s an underlying cause and so we decided to run some tests on your mother to cross out any possibilities, and well there’s never an easy way to tell anybody this...” her gaze lowered for just a slight moment until she quickly regained her composure, but it was just enough for you to just know. She continued with what you assumed she’s told hundred’s if not thousand’s of patients in her career. For her it’d be just another day of work, but for you it felt as if the world stopped.

Whatever she had said after couldn’t be heard because the only thing you could hear was the sound of your blood pounding in your ears, and an intense beating against your chest. You could see her mouth moving, but nothing seemed to be coming out, everything suddenly becoming a ringing noise to your ears.

Fight or flight is what they call it. When a stressful situation triggers you to either run or stay, and at this moment you just wanted to run, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew that at this exact moment, everything was going to change because whether you liked it or not, the carousel never stops turning.

You slowly glanced at your mom who seemed to be in the same paralyzed state as you, her face stoic of any possible emotion.

“With treatment chances of survival are of course immensely improved, the treatments are harsh, but taking your mom’s age and clean medical history I think she can definitely handle it,” Dr. Han tried to give you a small smile, but even she knew situations like these were always tough. No matter how many years of experience she had, the countless tragedies and rare miracles she’d witnessed in her career, every case was different. Her job as a doctor was to make people like you and your mother feel more comfortable with their situation, but never make any promises.

“Now treatments are done in intervals, and will probably have to be done starting from now until about three to six months which is when we usually see improvement, meaning you will have to permanently stay here for that time. From what I’ve seen with past patients is that treatment can be very costly without insurance, and well I know a lot of physicians don’t like to talk about expenses with patients, but—”

“My mom doesn’t have health insurance. I know,” you harshly broke the deafening silence, interrupting her before she could continue, not wanting to hear anymore of her pity. You had no reason to give her attitude, no reason to direct your anger towards her, it wasn’t like she caused any of this to happen, but you just couldn’t help it. The atmosphere in the air was stiff, any next word out of her mouth and you’d probably go ballistic. “C-can we just have a moment alone? So we could just um process everything,” you stammered, lacking to make any eye contact with her.

“I’ll be right outside in the hallway, let me know if you have any questions,” she gave you and your mom one last tiny sad smile before making her way out.

Once the door closed, you thought that you’d be able to breathe properly again, but the same heavy feeling on your chest remained. It wasn’t until you felt a grab at your hand that you were brought back to reality.

“Hey we are going to be just fine Y/N,” your mom whispered to you as it was now she who was rubbing your hand in an effort to comfort you. A weak smile appearing on your face, of course your mom would be comforting you despite it being her who's sick. “Come on lay down with me,” she then began to scoot to the side in her already tiny hospital bed, trying to make space for you.

And for a small everlasting moment you felt like a little girl again as you hugged your mom, tears silently falling from the corner of your eyes, the soft sound of her humming comforting you. You let your head relax onto her shoulder, your breathing somehow finally under control. The question of “What are we going to do?” slowly disappearing from your mind, letting yourself drift off to sleep in the arms of your mom.

Sunday Morning.

In the following days after, you had helped your mom move her necessities into the hospital room that she’d be staying in until her treatment was over and she could be discharged. You had contacted your landlord informing him that you’d be cancelling your lease as you now had plans to move back home. The only reason you had your own small apartment in the first place was because your mom thought it’d be better to live near campus and not waste so much money on gas going from campus to your job and then back to your moms place. Despite her protests on the cancellation of your lease, you had done it anyway.

“Ma someone has to live there, or else it’d just be useless to continue paying rent. We can’t just leave it empty for the whole year, someone could break in or even try to live there for the while that you’re not there. I mean imagine walking in on some strang—”

“Exactly, which is why I don’t want you living there, and move the decoration a little more to your right,” she says while making a motion with her hand as a way to guide you. For the past hour you had been putting up flimsy removable decorations all across the beige hospital walls at an attempt to make her room look less depressing than it already was.

“I already told you, I’ll be just fine. I already asked Yuna to help me get my stuff, and you’re acting like everyone in the neighborhood doesn’t know who I am, and it’s a lot faster to get here from home. I just need to start looking for a second job in the meant—”

“Ah about that,” your moms sudden interruption causing you to stop what you were doing , now tilting your head in confusion, “I called Mr. Choi and told him about me no longer being able to work for the meantime that I'm here and well that’s when he mentioned something about going on vacation, and needing a temporary assistant… and that he needed someone to run some business like errands for him and well I may have mentioned you and that you’re majoring in business and how you’d love to work for him…” she tried zooming through the last part but you had heard it all.

“Wait what!”

Mr. Choi was your mom’s boss, having been his housekeeper for as long as you could remember. Endless long nights of making sure whatever multimillion dollar penthouse he or his other snobby friends owned looked squeaky clean, just to be paid like any other minimum-wage worker minus the tip.

You could still vividly remember the nights when you were younger being babysat by your neighbor, anxiously waiting for your mom's knock on the door signifying that she was back home, and just how exhausted she’d look as she took off her housekeeping shoes, too tired to even look at the pile of sealed letters on the sturdy coffee table. A constant reminder that she was going to be working for that man for a very long time.

For a long time you had wondered how she was able to do it all. Were there nights where she felt like just giving up and simply letting everything she’d work so hard for to collapse?

Your mind flashing back to the night before you moved out for college. It was about 3 in the morning and anxiety had been keeping you up the whole night, the fear of moving somewhere you were unfamiliar with creeping into your mind. The sound of muffled tears coming from the living room snapping you back into reality. Slowly you had gotten up from bed, opening your door wide enough to leave a crack that you could visibly see through, desperately trying to avoid having the door loudly creak.

And so there she was with a wax stick candle in her hand, quietly whispering to herself a small recital, the sound of several wailed “thank you’s” coming out of her mouth, grateful that she had made it this far. The old framed picture of your dad on the coffee table making it hard for you to fight back your own tears.

Nights where she was sure your landlord would knock at any moment to kick you guys out because the rent was going to be late, nights where she’d silently cry herself to sleep because it killed her to say no to something you desperately wanted from the store, and nights where she merely missed the love of her life. Doubting herself as to whether she was doing a good job in raising you, simply wishing she could have someone give her some reassurance. And having to hide those feelings because she didn’t want her daughter to find out that the person she had once given a “Happy Mother’s Day to the Strongest Mommy in the World” card with a colorful doodle of herself in a cape was in fact not strong at all, but acted like she was because she simply loved her daughter too much.

And so that night instead of going back to sleep, you slowly made your way into the living room, silently enveloping her in a hug, no words having to be spoken. Promising yourself that you were going to work hard in college, and get each other out of the small cramped apartment to which you guys called home. Life of course had different plans, which brings you back to one of the causes of your stress and worries: Mr. Choi.

Oh how you despised that man. One would think a rich man like him would’ve offered by now to pay for all of your mom’s expenses considering the years of servitude, but no. He only fed into the stereotype you already had of the rich, the only people they cared for were themselves.

“So you’re basically telling me I have to quit my job by tonight, and do something I have absolutely no experience with?”

“Yes! You need to start getting all the experience you can get in the world of business, and him being on vacation is perfect. Less stress, and I assume it’ll be better pay than that restaurant you’re working in.” Oh how you hated how naive your mom could be sometimes, it always led to Choi taking advantage of her and her kindness.

“Mr. Choi lives—”

“In the city which is not at all far from here, the only reason you work at that lousy restaurant is because it’s near campus, yes or yes?”

“And when school starts?”

“Mr. Choi should be back by then and he can find someone new to replace you,” you dramatically groaned, the fact that she had reasonable answers to your questions bugged you.

“But-”

“But nothing! You’re a hard worker Y/N, who knows you may even meet someone who could change your life around in that area. You’re young, about to be a college graduate, you need to start printing out resumes and Mr. Choi is a big name in the indust—”

“I get it, I get it,” you said chuckling at your mom’s enthusiasm, “and who's going to keep you company then?”

“Ah well the nurse was telling me last night about the events they throw here every week for people like me who are staying here for a while and trust me I’ll be just fine,” she winked at you which raised a laugh out of you. Who knew your mom could be so… social. “Just try and visit hmm... at least once a week.”

“Once?”

“I’m telling you Y/N, we will be just fine. Stop acting like I’m dying anytime soon.” she said, “now what do you say? It’s just until the end of summer.” You began to consider your options, money was definitely the weighing factor here.

Sighing once you had made your decision, “When do I start?”, a giant grin now appearing on her face.

Sunday Night

“Well that’s the last of it,” you sighed in relief as you finally were able to close the trunk of your car after several minutes of struggling to compress your things in order for everything to fit in your small car and not make any double trips back.

“Finally! You know for someone who claims they need to save money, you sure do like spending it on such small useless things,” your best friend, Yuna, complained.

“Oh because you were so much help,” you huffed, she had no right to complain considering all she did was loudly munch on her chips, watching the pitiful sight of you nearly fighting your trunk after several failed attempts of it not closing. She raised her hand in defense.

You and Yuna had met in the 8th grade after the two of you were assigned as partners for your geometry class, casual conversation about latest idol debuts and fashion trends had blossomed a beautiful friendship. For a while you thought that college was going to cause the two of you to grow apart, but in fact you two became even closer. It had become a friendship where you didn’t need to see each other everyday, nor talk about absolutely everything all in one moment. Everything was always at its own pace between you two, the boundaries having been silently set.

You had told Yuna of your situation and rather than try to get you to cry about your feelings and awkwardly comfort you, she instead agreed to help you move out, letting her actions speaking louder than words. Of course Yuna’s definition of help differed from yours. but it was the thought that counted. She knew that when you were ready you’d talk to her about everything.

“Well apartment D2 you’ve been... “ you paused, recalling the amount of times you’ve nearly burned something, now scratching your neck, “...decent to me, but it’s time for a new chapter,” you whispered to yourself, anxious for the weeks to come.

The drive home like almost all of them had the two of you singing to both current and childhood songs without a care in the world even though you two weren’t exactly what people would consider “good” singers. Occasional voice cracks seeping through the bass of the speakers, garnering a laugh from the two of you.

By the time you got home and finished unpacking, you were not only exhausted but extremely hungry.

“I’m gonna go get us take out,” Yuna announced, getting up from the couch and grabbing your car keys from the rack, almost as if she read your mind.

And so while she went to get that, you laid on your small childhood bed, staring at the ceiling. You laughed at the multiple glow in the dark stickers you had crookedly placed onto it several years ago, and cringe at the posters of second generation idols you had sloppily posted up on your walls when you were fifteen, now unaware that you were subconsciously grinning.

It surprised you that your mom for the most part hadn’t moved anything around from your room, for the most part it looked almost exactly as how you left it years ago. The same old baby blue duvet covered your metal twin-sized bed frame, decorated with grey fluffy throw pillows which at the time you thought made you a professional interior designer. Your fingers grazed over the framed pictures you had on your small desk (minus the ones you took to college) of past memories including a photo of your dad piggy back carrying a five year old you who had the biggest smile on her face. A small reminder of what life once was.

You could feel your eyes getting watery as you continued to stare at the photo, and so you quickly snapped yourself out of it, deciding that you already had enough emotional turmoil on your plate. Instead you plopped back onto bed, unlocked your phone and began to scroll through Twitter occasionally laughing at some memes.

A certain retweet had caught your eye causing you to let out a scoff, “Kim Taehyung NASTY fight with girlfriend Sunhi. Click here for more.” The Kim family were almost insufferable, their names practically plastered everywhere across Korea. Especially Mr. Kim’s son Taehyung who somehow always managed to get his name across the headlines whether it be on TV, magazines, or social media.

“Famous for being a brat,” you muttered to yourself, but ironically before you could click on the link you had heard the door open and close, resulting in you locking your phone and immediately getting up from bed, your stomach desperately ready to stop growling.

“Im baaaack!” Yuna dramatically squealed, placing the foam takeout containers on your small kitchen table. The scent of the warm food making your mouth water. “I know it’s chilly right now, but the stars are out tonight, so I say we go eat at the top,” she then gave you the puppy dog eyes.

“You don’t need to make such… disturbing...faces for me to agree, you do know that right?” you teased, trying to hide your smirk.

“Fuck you,” she responded to you while playfully hitting your shoulder.

Despite it being summer, when you had walked outside you immediately felt the crispy cold weather, but it was something you and Yuna had grown accustomed to. The countless number of late nights climbing up your metal ladder to get to the rooftop and watching the small tiny stars had made you two somewhat immune to the nightly cold. Your mom sometimes would even climb up herself to bring hot cocoa, rightfully worried that the two of you would freeze yourselves to death.

You see your apartment, like the rest of your complex, wasn’t in the greatest condition. The infrastructure of it mostly relying on a mix of cement and brick, rust engulfing most things along with metal bars on each complex’s windows in order to prevent break ins. Crime was not something uncommon in your area, but something that you were used to hearing about as you got older.

What made the whole situation more ironic was that the rich were separated by a simple six way motorway, acting almost as a bridge between two completely different worlds with their skyscrapers and condos looking down upon you guys. It was only at night when the stars were out and you looked up at the navy blue sky that you felt like for a small moment none of it mattered. The warm milky glow of the moon never failing to soothe you, reminding you that even in the dark there was light. Reminding you that even now which felt as if was one of the darkest hours in your life, there was going to be light. At least that’s what you hoped.

“This view just never gets old,” you whispered, amazed at the moonlight’s reflection, the speckle of stars only adding to its beauty. Your eyes had once again become watery, a sudden state of reflection washing over you, but you quickly composed yourself before Yuna could notice.

“What time do you even go in tomorrow?” Yuna asked, her eyes still primarily focused on the view above.

“Well their flight is at 1PM so my mom told me I should get there by at least 11AM so he can explain everything to me, show me around, and all that other stuff.”

“I don’t see why you have an attitude about it, you’re acting like it’s the worst job in the world!” she scolded you.

“I know I know, I’ve heard it all already,” you rolled your eyes recalling your mom's lecture and that she expected your attitude to be fixed come Monday morning.

“Well you gotta do what you gotta do,” Yuna mumbled while shrugging her shoulders and continuing to eat her food.

“You can say that again.... ” you acknowledged her remark, secretly scared for tomorrow, silently hoping that all went well, “and I thought I was a slob,” you snorted, watching how sloppily Yuna was slurping her noodles. She raised her hand, smacking you on the shoulder.

“Hey, watch—”

Monday Morning.

“Where you’re going, you asshole!” you shouted over your window, your irritation fixated at the man who cut you off without signaling. God how you hated driving in the city. All the one way signs, the assholes who called themselves drivers, and the narrow streets which were hard to maneuver in. It all caused unnecessary stress, but here you were nonetheless.

“Turn right in 1.2 miles,” you let out a snide scoff as you entered the parking lot, there was nothing but car of the year models ranging from Mercedes Benz’s, BMW’s, Range Rover’s, and more. All making your car look worse than it already did.

Making your way into the lobby, you were in complete utter awe of the place. From the giant diamond chandelier hanging from above to the sparkly interior design which screamed Hollywood glam. The ivory colored double staircase reminded you of Titanic, the color scheme of the whole place was overwhelmingly beautiful. You could only imagine what Mr. Choi’s condo could look like as you made your way to the front desk.

Ding.

To your surprise a boy, a very handsome one to say the least, appeared from what you assumed was his office. He looked no older than you, his hair dyed a crimson-red color giving him a youthful appearance accompanied with a face that had both sharp and soft features. Before you could ponder on why such a good looking person was working and not living at a place like this, your thoughts were interrupted.

“Hello, welcome to The Oaks condos, how can I help you?” he asked, sounding eerily similar to a robot. It reminded you of yourself at your old job, something you certainly would not miss.

“Um I’m Mr. Choi’s new assistant,” you looked for his name tag which coincidentally he didn’t have on, but you could immediately see his shoulders relax once he had heard the words “new assistant”.

“Ah yes! You’re Ms. Y/L/N’s daughter right? Y/N right?” you nodded in agreement, a smile now appearing on his face, causing the corner of your lips to turn upward. Wow was this guy handsome, you only hoped that the heat you felt on your cheeks wasn’t visible to the eye.

“Your mom called me to give me a heads up. I’m Hoseok, I’m what you can consider the receptionist around here,” he said, reaching his hand out for you to shake.

Hoseok. The name sounded so familiar, you could’ve sworn you'd heard your mom mention the name a couple times.

A light bulb then went off in your head, as you remembered the countless number of times she had tried setting you up on a date with him, but wow did she fail to mention that Hoseok had the literal face of a GQ model.

An awkward cough brought you back to reality as you had realized that Hoseok’s hand had been stuck out for quite some time, you were now certain that your face must’ve resembled a ripe tomato. You quickly returned the handshake, internally scolding yourself for making yourself look like an idiot. Here you were, a grown woman, acting like a teenager again.

“So um, you seem um ... pretty young to be working here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he teased, “I replaced my aunt after she retired and the owner of this place trusted her to teach me well, and well I guess I’ve been doing a pretty good job if I’m still employed,” he explained, playfully winking at you, confirming that he knew the effect he had on people. You stood there in silence, deciding that it was just best to say nothing, look pretty, and nod. Thus causing him throw his head back and laugh, making small claps with his hands. With the way you were acting, you couldn’t blame him. He must’ve thought you were some kind of walking circus act.

“You’ll get used to it, you know...” you now had a look a look of confusion on your face which only made him laugh harder, but before you could ask him any questions, he changed the topic.

“Well I assume your mom gave you Mr. Choi’s key pass, correct?” you shyly nodded no in response. “Ah I see, let’s go ahead and get that set up for you then,” you watched him as he began to type some things onto the computer in front of him. Compared to how fast his fingers were moving across the keyboard, he made you like a complete newb on the keyboard. The boy was clearly now in his own zone.

“First name, Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Last name, Y/L/N?”

“Yes.”

“You see where that X mark is on your left?” he pointed at the microscopic mark on the floor to which you followed, “Okay now look at where that pretty gold flower is on the wall, and say cheese!” Before you could even properly prepare yourself you heard the sound of the shutter go off, immediately causing Hoseok to begin cracking up.

He turned the desktop computer to face towards you, showing the horrendous picture the camera took of you. One eye had come out mid-blink, your mouth slightly agape from fixing your hair in the moment. “Hey that’s not—!” Before you could start complaining, Hoseok had quickly interrupted.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! It’s only for the program’s database which only Rachel and I see? Ain’t that right Rachel?” Rachel? Who the hell was that?

Glancing around to see who this Rachel person was, you were surprised to see a very old woman seated behind the front desk seemingly caring less about what he had said, a permanent scowl on her face along with a small groan coming out of her mouth as a response. “That’s my girl,” Hoseok jested, “Now you,” he dramatically pointed at you, “come back over here.”

You muttered a quiet “Whatever,” peeved by his little antics. Maybe it was because Rachel was old but you could slowly see why she had that look on her face.

“Place your index finger on the small machine when it lights up,” he pointed to the small biometric scanning machine, similar to the ones used at the DMV. Following the simple instructions you allowed the machine to scan your finger, assuming it was going to be used for something important around here.

All you could do was observe him as he finished typing who knows what. You observed how his eyebrows quirked as he continued to type, a satisfied smile gracing his lips once he was done.

Too caught up in his appearance, the sudden tug at your hand had caught you by surprise, yanking you from where you were standing. “I’ll be back Rachel! I’m going to show little Ms. Y/N here around,” Rachel as before. only grunted in response.

“So here of course we have the lobby, this is where all the..” he glanced around making sure no one was around before whispering, “snobby folks come in and out of every day. Them and their visitors of course, so hopefully you don’t have to interact with any of them.”

“I don’t think all of this will be neces—” before you could continue he pulled your hand again now guiding you towards another area. You glanced at the time on your phone, hoping this so called tour wasn’t going to take too long.

“Right here is the entrance to the patio and pool area, which is what you’ll use your fingerprint for as well as entering Mr. Choi’s condo and any other amenities we have around here,” he reached into his pocket pulling out a laminated card, “but if for any reason our system’s down then this right here should do the trick for amenities only, you’ll have to come up to the front desk if the finger pad in the elevator isn’t working. For precautionary reasons of course,” he explained, most of it pretty self explanatory, except the elevator part but you assumed he’d get to that soon.

“So the entrance to every apartment is through the elevator which is right there on your left,” You followed him as he began to walk towards it, placing his finger on the elevator’s finger scanning pad, “The stairs are really only here for decoration considering no one uses them, I mean unless of course you want to climb up 7 flights of stairs everyday,” You quickly nodded your head no, “Only resident’s and employee fingerprints allow the elevator to open but,” the two of you stepped into the elevator, “the fingerpad inside the elevator only allows certain people to access certain floors. Since Mr. Choi’s going to be out on vacation with his vacation, you are currently the only person with access to his floor,” you raised your finger, slightly confused.

“Don’t you technically—”

“I do, but let’s say I were to enter a resident’s condo without their explicit permission, they’d immediately be notified through their phone as I’m also under strict contract.” Your mouth made an “O” shape, impressed by how everything was ran around here. Another question then popped up in your mind as he clicked the elevator’s 7th button.

“Well what if there’s more than one person in the elevator? What then?”

“Ah good question! Since you don’t know any of the residents here yet, I suggest you always try to go into the elevator by yourself, and if the situation arises where you feel uncomfortable or paranoid about who's in the elevator with you then just go back down to the lobby of course and wait it out, but we’ve never had any cases of break ins or anything like that. Especially not in an area like this. Things around here are ran very smoothly,” he shrugged, “I mean around here the burglars don’t wear black ski mask and carry scary weapons. In fact the real criminals live on these same floors,” he deadpanned, slightly catching you by surprise.

“I know what you’re probably thinking, who the hell makes an elevator an entrance to their home? I thought the same thing when I first started, but for some reason they see it as some kind of luxury feature around here...”

“Mm it’s expected if I’m being honest,” you chuckled, slowly finding the confidence to make small talk with Hoseok without getting so flustered. A pregnant silence had made it’s way into the elevator.

“I’m sorry about your mom by the way...” though he had said it out the blue, you could feel the sincerity behind his words. All you could do was give him a small smile of acknowledgment, feeling as if it was too early to feel someone’s pity. “She talks about you a lot...” he said, causing you to smile.

“My Y/N is going to one of the top schools in all of Korea! My Y/N is going to become a successful businesswoman! My Y/N is so pretty Hobi, a boy like you should take her out some time!” he mimicked your mom’s voice, now causing you to genuinely laugh.

“That definitely sounds like her,” you giggled, your cheeks now becoming a tinging shade of pink at the mention of her trying to playing matchmaker.

“You should’ve seen her face when I told her I was gay,” your eyes immediately felt as if they had bulged out of your eye sockets, your face now completely red at his previous words. He on the other hand was now laughing as hard as ever, his hand clutching onto his stomach from laughing so hard.

“I told you you’d get used to me,” he said in-between laughs, tears now welting out of his eyes from his laughing fit. Things definitely started to make sense, especially now that you were inconveniently remembering how your mom had completely stopped mentioning Hoseok in any romantic way to you. You covered your face with your hands in embarrassment because here you were already fantasizing about the dude.

“You're also probably wondering why I’m working at a place like this, that’s what most people ask me when they visit round here, but...”

“I’ll have to answer your questions some other time Ms. Y/N because well here we are! I’ll have your parking pass ready by the time leave but for now just place your finger on the scanner and off you go,” you followed his instructions, opening the doors of the elevator, stepping out, and waving a small goodbye watching him return the wave as the doors slowly closed. In all honesty you were genuinely happy at the fact that you had made a friend around here even though you were still slightly embarrassed about the moment that had played out only minutes ago.

But before you could dwell on it any longer, you heard a voice call out your name, “Ah Y/N, good you’re here right on time!” You formally greeted who you presumed was Mrs. Choi, slightly surprised at the fact that she even knew your name.

“You don’t have to be so formal. Muah. Muah,” she pulled you in for a hug and giving you a kiss on each cheek like the French do. “I’m so sorry to hear about your mother, tell her I send my condolences.” You returned her fake smile, not expecting yourself to despise her this early on. Oh were you glad she wasn’t going to be around.

Mrs. Choi in a way reminded you of Regina George’s mom despite not having any kids. Needles and plastic were definitely her best friends, and her attempt to try and act younger than her actual age was quite cringe to watch.

Soon after greeting each other, two pomeranians began to circle around you barking. You bent down trying to pet them, but you guess they picked up the snob’s attitude because all they did was continue barking and one even tried to bite you.

“If it isn’t Y/N, I feel like I haven’t seen you in years!” you snapped your attention to the man himself, Mr. Choi, who was coming down his stairs with a thick black luggage case in his hand. The last time you saw him was around 9 years ago when he had lived on the other side of the city. Your mom had to take you to work with her that day because your neighbor was unavailable to watch after you and you were still too young to be home alone.

Mr. Choi had definitely changed in appearance, his once full head of black hair was now clearly balding, he had gained some weight, and overall looked like a man who had long been worn out. You couldn’t help but think that this vacation was probably needed, especially with a wife like his.

“I’ll wait for you in the car my love. It was nice seeing you Y/N, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks!” she squealed, waving goodbye as she stepped into the elevator, the dogs following right behind her.

You could hear Mr. Choi sigh, probably already mentally preparing himself for the next 10 weeks. So this is what a pretentious marriage looks like, you thought to yourself. You theorized that Mr. Choi must’ve only married her for her looks and she for his money, and well no wonder there were no kids in the picture. It’d be the ultimate death of both of them. You actually felt pity for the man, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have a choice in marrying her.

You brought your attention back to Mr. Choi who must have been rambling on for some time now, “My most recent assistant just quit on me for no reason,” a genuine puzzled look on his face, “something about me being too overwhelming for her, as if I'm supposed to know what that means,” he scoffed. “So when your mom mentioned you well I knew I could trust her!”

Your mom truly never failed at mentioning you to whoever and whenever she possibly could, it was both a blessing and a curse.

“So… what exactly am I going to be in charge of?” You blurted out, the question had been lingering in your mind since the night prior.

“Good question, I’d show you around, but time is on the essence. I basically just need you to organize my office, file paperwork, organize Amelia’s closet, go run errands for me, pick up documents, but most importantly I’m going to need you to attend certain events in place for me, but of course just introduce yourself as my assistant, apologize as to why I couldn’t be there, and most importantly keep your eyes and ears open. In my world we like to keep… tabs… on one another,” your eyebrow quirked in curiosity, “and since I won’t have any signal I expect to have a report ready for me when I come back so I’m caught up with everything of course,” he grabbed something from the coffee table, “I made a planner for you with everything that needs to be done on a day to day basis,” he then proceeded in handing you the bulk gray planner, “It includes passwords, data sheets, and all that good stuff.”

You were amazed at how his demeanor had changed from clumsy-like to serious businessman in the blink of an eye. It was actually quite intimidating.

“Finances need to be kept in check, investors need to be accommodated, and well I just want to come back to everything being normal,” he began to gather the remainder of his stuff, “also your money is going to be wired to your bank account on a weekly basis and well that’s really it. I’ll see you in 10 weeks Ms. L/N! Good luck!”

“Good luck..” you quietly repeated his final parting words back to yourself, watching as the elevator doors closed. You could see why his last assistant quit, you didn’t even know where to start. You took a deep breath deciding to make your way up to his office, your day was just getting started.

The condo may have looked like it came out of a show from HGTV, but Mr. Choi’s office looked like it came out of an episode of Hoarders Buried Alive. There were scattered papers everywhere, his desk was practically hidden by all the stacks of papers. Food wrappers and aluminum soda cans thrown around like the slob he was, the stench making you want to throw up.

“Oh my God…” you said to yourself, this man was just a mess.

You skimmed through some of the papers all of them having to do with different things ranging from firm performance, finances, legal forms, and much more. You could already feel a headache coming, but at the end of the day this was your job. You grabbed some storage boxes and began to label them with a black marker.

Your plan was to separate the papers into two sections: Important and Unimportant. Once you finished separating, you’d then shred what you deemed unimportant, and further organize what was important by date and then transfer them to his filing cabinets. It would take time, but it was the only method you could possibly think of. Your goal was to stop by 3 and then start working on Mrs. Choi’s closet.

You put on your earphones and began to play some music so that you wouldn’t be so stressed while organizing everything.

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s and bottles of bubbles…” you hummed to yourself and before you knew it, it was already 3. You had thrown out all of the trash in his office, and for the majority part most of his papers were organized.

You sighed, now to get started with her damn closet.

Mrs. Choi’s closet was its own giant room, marble shelves stacked with bags and shoes, racks full of clothes, jewelry sparkling under their display showcase. The sparkling glass chandelier on the ceiling adding an extra oomph to the room.

Hermes. Gucci. Chanel. Versace. Burberry. Balmain. Louis Vuitton. Saint Laurent. Fendi.

Any brand you could think of was in this closet, it was unbelievable. The closet had to be worth several thousands, no millions. So many questions were running through your head. How could someone just have so much? What do you even do with this amount of clothes? You were truly left speechless.

Shaking your head, you began to pick up all the clothes on the floor deciding that it was best to organize everything by color, your day almost done.

By the time your alarm went off it was already six which is the time that Mr. Choi had said you could leave, and it wasn’t like he was paying you extra for staying any longer and doing more work. For the most part, you had finished with both the office and closet and were just ready to go home, jump into bed, and watch some Netflix.

You went down the elevator, satisfied at your first day on the job. This was going to be easy, you thought to yourself.

Just as you were leaving the lobby you heard Hoseok, “Hey I had your parking permit printed out!” You stopped dead in your tracks, turned around and walked towards his desk. It wouldn’t hurt to make a little bit of conversation, right?

“Ah I had forgotten about that, thanks,” you chuckled.

“It’s no problem! The parking officer loves giving tickets.… so how was your first day?”

“Um not bad actually, a little boring to be honest,” you pondered at his question, for the most part you were being truthful, “Tomorrow I’m supposed to go and get Mr. Choi’s Mercedes Benz checked out, and then from there go and pick up some paperwork from some legal firm, transfer it onto his computer.”

“Well at least he’s not around to be over your shoulder, he practically had his last assistant going nuts,” he responded, laughing at the memory.

“Well I’ll see you tomorrow,” you yawned, giving him a small wave goodbye.

“Hey well let me know if you ever need anything, and I’m being serious,” and to that you nodded, taking note of what he said.

Monday Afternoon.

[Incoming Facetime from: Ma 💞💗💓💕]

Immediately you clicked “accept”, having just gotten home and tidying up a couple things around the apartment.

“So how was your first day?” your mom immediately questions you, clearly eager to know.

“It was pretty decent ma, nothing I can’t handle,” you chuckled, “but wow was that man’s office practically a pig pen,” you complained only causing your mom to start laughing.

“Oh I know,” she comments, only causing you to roll your eyes.

“I think these 10 weeks should go by quite smoothly if I say so myself,” you sounded genuinely optimistic, “I met Hoseok you know,” your embarrassment had long subsided, instead finding it hilarious.

“Ah my Hobi!” your mom sounding delighted at the mention of the young boy, “a hard worker that boy is I'm telling you.”

“He seems like it,” you had long concluded that he was when he had been explaining everything about the residency to you. He seemed like one of those people who even though they disliked their job, still put in their absolute everything into making sure they were the best at it. “You shoud’ve seen me giving him the googly eyes earlier,” you joked around.

“Hobi is—”

“Gay, yeah I know. I had to find that out the hard way,” you covered your face with your hands, playfully sulking.

“Why do you think I stopped trying to set the two of you up,” your mom laughed.

“Mm really ma? I would’ve never guessed,” sarcasm dripping from your words.

“Hey remember who you’re sp—”

“Anywayssss, how are you holding up out there?” you took a sip from the cup of juice you had served yourself earlier, your mom’s dismissive expression returning back to a smile.

“Well the food around here is horrible! I told my nurse that they should let me in the kitchen for a change, but all she did was laugh!” You grinned at the idea of your mom actually working at the cafeteria for the sake of it.

"Ah well I’lll make sure to bring you something on Wednesday.”

“Did anything arrive in the mail today about the invoice for everything?” your mom asked, a look of worry now on her face.

“No ma, and don’t even worry about anything like that okay? Focus on your treatment, and you let me handle the rest alright?” your voice now becoming stern, leave it to your mom to start worrying about finances.

“I know, I know, but I know some fees were coming up and well—”

“And I’m telling you to leave it to me, okay?”

“Ah okay then, well I'm going to sleep already,” she yawned, “they’ve been prodding needles in me all day,” she tried to say it as lighthearted as she could, but she quickly regretted it as she saw the sudden sad look on your face.

“Goodnight ma, I’ll see you Wednesday alright?”

“Okay then Y/N, I love you.”

“I love you too,” and with a small pressured smile, you clicked “end call”. An immediate sigh coming from your lips as you glanced at the several unsealed envelopes on your coffee table, many of the scattered papers stamped with a red “PAST DUE”.

School, rent, the water bill, the light bill, the gas bill, your phone bill, the old hospital bills, the new ones, all due in such small amounts of time with almost no room in-between dates to rest.

And so that night you laid in bed staring at your ceiling for what felt like hours unable to go to sleep. The only thing on your mind was how you were going to get the funds to pay for everything because well if you didn’t then you’d be left in hospital debt with an eviction notice right at your door and a whole bunch of other problems that you didn’t want to think about.

Deciding that it was best to get a breath of fresh air, you made your way to the rooftop, watching as the scattered stars glimmered in the sky. You sorta wished that life could be like those childhood TV shows where a shooting star would pass by and make your wish all come true, but the fact was, is that your life isn’t a movie or a tv show. This was your reality, and you were just going to have to suck it up.

You unlocked your phone and texted the only person you possibly could.

[To: Yuna 🤍]

[10:09] you up??

You tapped your foot, waited for her to reply.

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:10] i'm offended that that’s even a question tbh

[you]

[10:11] you think you can come over? pleaseeee 🥺

[10:12] ik it’s late and you’re probably tired and work tmrw but i just rlly need some company rn

[From: Yuna 🤍]

[10:13] i’ll be there in 10, don’t judge how i look

[you]

[10:14] when have i ever…

Soon enough you heard a knock on your door.

“I brought your favorite snacks,” Yuna had a giant grin plastered on her face to which you couldn’t help but smile at. Her makeup-free face and bright Hello Kitty pajamas told you that she was probably in bed when you texted her.

Once she slid off her shoes, she was quick to make herself feel at home by jumping onto your couch. Hell, this was basically her second home.

“Do you work tomorrow?” you asked her.

“I called off, I’ve already accumulated a lot of hours anyway and well I might as well start putting them to use,” she stated, as she munched on a freshly opened bag of barbeque chips.

Yuna was a retail clerk at the local mall, attending fashion school at night in hopes of landing herself a future internship, but like you was currently on summer vacation. Even in middle school, becoming a world renowned fashion designer had always been her dream, having gone to the the principal’s office a countless number of times because she added some kind of tailor to the plain old school uniform whether it be bedazzles or embellishing some kind of bizarre pattern onto it.

Yuna though was sadly a case of a prodigy without the resources, accepted to one of Seoul’s top fashion schools when the two of you had graduated high school. You were there the day she opened her letter of acceptance, the two of you along with her family celebrating by going to one of Seoul’s most expensive restaurants. But just as you were there the day she was accepted, you were also her shoulder to cry on the day she realized that the money she had saved up wouldn’t even cover a quarter of tuition costs, and her applications for scholarships had all fallen through.

What you admired most about Yuna was that disappointment didn't stop her from trying. Her designs were truly one of a kind, and you weren’t even saying that because she was your best friend and had a bias towards her. You could only hope that one day she’d be recognized for her talents.

You grabbed your blanket from your room and sat next to her on the couch. She stared at you while you flicked through different channels on the TV, sensing that something was wrong.

You could practically feel her burning a hole through your head and so you decided to answer the question you knew was looming in her head, “I’m not okay,” you mumbled, letting out a sardonic laugh. “I’m trying to act like I am, but I'm just not,” you stared off into the TV not wanting to make eye contact with her, “it’s just not fair,” you whispered, confused with yourself as to whether you were sad or angry.

Yuna could feel her heart wrench as she listened.

“My mom’s been nothing but a kind person, I’ve been nothing but a kind person, and so I can’t help but ask why? What did we do to end up in a situation like this?” you hadn’t even realized that tears were falling from your eyes until you felt the salty drops of water make their way onto your lips, dripping from your chin, “The whole time I was in Mr. Choi’s condo looking around at the million dollar paintings, and organizing his wife’s thousand dollar outfits I kept thinking to myself how can a man like Mr. Choi just not care? He didn’t even bother to ask how she was...” you seethed, the emptiness in your voice had now become anger.

Yuna scoffed, “The rich are always looking down on us like we’re just nothing but money makers to them, demanding their respect like they deserve it for free.”

“I just,” you paused for a second, “I just don’t know what to do, I think I might have to start looking for a second job or something, or maybe even take a gap year...” you breathed out, running a hand through your hair in distress.

And maybe one could call it fate with what you and Yuna had seen on your TV that night. Destiny perhaps. Whatever it was, it was going to open the doors to a brand new world. A world that you had only ever caught small glimpses of.

“Kim Taehyung is officially Seoul’s most eligible bachelor, our sources have confirmed that he and on and off again girlfriend Sunhi have called it quits permanently this time. The reason you may ask? Rumor has it that she was caught cheating on him,” the entertainment reporter had a giant grin on her face, “That’s right ladies, the heir to Kim Enterprises is back on the market.”

Pictures which you assumed were recent showed Taehyung partying, drinking, flashing expensive cars, and at red carpet events for major fashion brands. “Tweet us using hasht—” you changed the channel on the TV, bored of the topic at hand.

“I swear he’s the only person they talk about nowadays, I mean literally he’s everywhere!” you chuckled, turning your attention to Yuna who for some odd reason now had a look of disbelief on her face.

“Y/N… how did I— no how did we not think of this earlier?” Yuna got up from the couch like an excited toddler causing you to tilt your head to the side in honest confusion.

“What the hell are you talking about now,” you said, laughing at how childish she looked. She was now pacing herself back and forth across your living room, her adrenaline practically visible.

“You know I don’t normally believe in this stuff but holy shit this has got to be a sign!” At this point you were convinced she was talking to herself considering she wasn’t even making direct eye contact when she said that. She frantically ran her hands through her hair, “I mean you have the quote on quote resources, the clothes, my fashion expertise, the car, the events, and he’s single now. Oh my God how did we not think of this,” you carefully listened to what she said trying to piece everything together. Resources? Clothes? Was she talking about Kim Taehyung?

Your eyes immediately widened when you put two and two together and realized what she was so excited about, and it was now your turn to get up from the couch.

“You’re literally insane you understand that right!?” you stared at her, completely baffled. You thought stopping her from pacing around would bring her back to reality and get that grin off her face, but if anything it did the opposite.

“Y/N! What are the chances that as we’re talking about your finance issues and then something like that comes up! What are the chances that you literally work for a millionaire who's going to be gone for several weeks and expects you to attend his events! You can’t tell me that this isn’t hmm… I don’t know… Fate!” All you could do was stare at her in disbelief as she began to mumble something about this being something “straight out of a movie”. You were waiting for her to laugh and tell you this was all some kind of joke, but you soon realized she was being serious.

“The fact that you’re actually being serious about this is ridiculous!”

“And the fact that you think it’s ridiculous is what’s really crazy!” you shook your head refusing to accept what she was alluding to.

“Yuna! Let’s be rational he—”

“No, just listen to me Y/N. Please,” you looked at Yuna who had now calmed down, her face completely serious, “I know it seems out of the ballpark…” you nodded in agreement, “You have the opportunity to infiltrate the rich, and not just anyone but the Kim family! You know how many rumors there are about that family and their business!” she shouted while adding extra emphasis on the word infiltrate as if this was some kind of spy movie.

You sighed, “And how exactly would I do that? How could I not get caught up in lies? Why the Kim family? Why not not just steal some of Mr. Choi’s belongings and sell them on Ebay or something? Just what exactly are y—”

“You didn’t let me finish!” you grunted in annoyance. There were just so many questions running through your head, did she not realize the risk in what she was proposing? The consequences?

“You’re a stranger in their world, a brand new person … a brand new identity! You already have to go to these events as it is, and you can’t steal anything from Mr. Choi and sell it because I mean clearly he knows who you are. They, as in the rich, do not,” Yuna knew she had managed to grab your attention based on the look of skepticism on your face, “And technically you’re not going to be stealing Mrs. Choi’s clothes, you’ll be um ... borrowing them.” she flashed a giddy smile, “10 weeks Y/N, 10 weeks to get Kim Taehyung to fall in love with you, blackmail money out of that family, and then poof you disappear without a trace!”

“You have no idea how many questions are running through my head at this very moment.”

“And I think I can give you answers to them all, but please Y/N just think about it! It would solve all of your problems, financially at least,” you jokingly hit her shoulder as she teased you with the last part of her sentence, “you wouldn’t be doing it for yourself, you’d be doing it for your mom.”

“For my mom…” you mumbled to yourself. Yuna stared at your blank expression. She could only assume that you were letting everything sink in before making a decision. On one hand you’d be able to pay for all of your expenses while still getting your job done, but on the other you'd be using someone under a false pretense in order to blackmail money out of them. You’d literally be infiltrating the rich. You were scared. What if you got caught? Would you go to jail? What would happen to your mom?

You had made your decision.

“I trust you Yuna… I really do…” she now had a worrisome look on her face, “and so..” without even realizing it Yuna had been crossing her fingers, “I’m in.”

“Oh my God,” she let out a sigh of both relief and disbelief, a beaming smile on her face.

“But!” her smile quickly disappeared after hearing your tone, “we need to plan this thoroughly, like a solid proof plan by tonight on pen and paper, you got me?” she nodded in agreement, “and I think there’s someone we need involved in this... “

She tilted her head in confusion.

“Who?”

Tuesday Morning.

“Yuna this is Hoseok, Hoseok this is Yuna,” the two shook hands giving one another a warm smile.

Yuna began eyeing you in a way of saying “Are you sure about this?”. You understood why she was skeptical of Yuna whether or not she’d agree to everything, hell you had your own doubts. What if Hoseok said no? Worse, what if he completely snitched you out? Then you’d be stuck with no job, no money, and probably blacklisted from all major companies in Seoul by Mr. Choi himself with the label “thief” over your head. You had to reassure yourself that everything would be just fine, “So what brings you guys here?”

“Well I was hoping I could talk to you um…” you glanced around, “somewhere private,” you whispered giving him a shy smile, “maybe up in Mr. Choi’s condo,” you offered remembering that Rachel could possibly be hearing (though you highly doubted she’d care).

“Oh um… sure, let me just tell Rachel to cover for me,” he awkwardly dismissed himself to the back.

“I don’t know Y/N … he seems like the type of person to not want to risk his job..” Yuna whispered to you, she was clearly on high alert.

“He told me I could ask him for anything, and well I know I’ve only known her for about 24 hours, but I don’t know… something about him just seems reliable, I can't explain it. It’s just better to have him on our team than to be suspicious of us. I can’t do this whole infiltration thing being paranoid that the receptionist is going to snitch on me when he sees me walk out with clothes worth thousands of dollars,” you replied, “And if this really is playing out as a movie like you say, then we need someone whose tech savvy.”

“You have a point,” she chuckled, “wait how do you know he’s good at computers again?”

Your mind flashed back to the night before, while Yuna was asleep you had gone full stalker mode on Hoseok to get to the bottom of who he was. After hours of looking through different social media platforms you had ended up finding both his Twitter and Instagram @/junghsk, where he had pictures of his college graduation from 2 years ago. Major? Computer Science. It explained why he looked like he was in some Matrix movie the other day, and though of course it didn't mean automatically he was an expert, he definitely must’ve been better than both you and Yuna combined when it came to programming which is something (based on your plan) you were going to need for future endeavors.

You also came to find out that he was an avid animal lover, taught cardio dance classes on morning weekends, likes to live tweet show series such as Games of Thrones, and is in a committed relationship with someone named Min Yoongi. What could you say? You liked to do intensive research.

Once Hoseok returned the three of you went up to Mr. Choi’s condo, the elevator ride up was definitely awkward compared to the day before.

Yuna was in clear awe of the place. You could tell she wanted to give herself a personal tour, but you shot her a look dismissing the idea as she could easily do that later.

“We should sit,” you suggested pointing to the kitchen’s island, "Yuna can make us all some instant ramen,” she immediately shot you a look of annoyance, but didn’t argue with you making her way to the pantry.

“So...” he quietly mumbled at an attempt to break the ice, making small tapping noises on the island’s surface with his fingers.

Flashing him a pretentious smile, you awkwardly glanced around trying to think of something to make small talk with, “Um do you like Games of Thrones?”

Immediately he grinned, you expected a “yes” to come out of his mouth but instead he said, “Ah so that was you yesterday!”

The color drained out of your face , wait what? He began to laugh, making small claps as he threw his head back, “You were stalking me,” his face scrunched up as he began to tease you.

“What are you talking about?” your tone becoming defensive along with your eyebrows furrowing, only causing his fits of laughter to become louder. His index finger wiping the tears that began to form in his eyes.

“Don’t act like you didn't like and unlike my picture at like 3 in the morning!” He suddenly pulled out his phone, showing the notification which he hadn’t cleared from his phone, showing your username and the words “liked your photo” following right after. You had forgotten about that...

It was already 3AM and you were beginning to doze off, eyelids barely even open. You saw the white heart on Instagram appear on a 56 week old picture which you immediately unliked, also causing you to jolt out of your comfortable position in panic.

Damn you Instagram. “Whatever you need must be pretty important if you’re up at 3AM instastalking me.”

“Oh shut up—”

“Well since you were on there, what hair color do you prefer on me: red, brown, or black?” You scowled before muttering a quiet “brown”. “Really I’ve been told red looks best on me, hmm...” he pondered, pressing his index finger onto his bottom lip. "So are you going to tell me what this is all about anytime soon or ...” he said, his tone coming out more demanding than he intended, but Hoseok was the kind of person that didn’t like to beat around the bush, rather preferring to be told things straight up as they were.

“Okay..” You started, explaining to him of your situation starting from your mom, to the bills you needed to pay, why this job just wasn’t enough, why you needed to go ahead with your plan, why you needed him to be in on everything, and emphasizing that you weren’t doing this for yourself but your mom. By the time you finished explaining, Yuna was already done making the noodles.

Hoseok sat there in silence, you could hear your heart from your chest, your fingers getting slightly sweaty as you thought of the different possible outcomes. The deafening silence had made you feel like you guys were there for hours. Honestly, you could have heard a pin drop.

It wasn’t until you saw his signature smile beginning to form on his face that you could’ve sworn you felt bricks actually fall off your shoulders.

“Okay let’s do it,” he stated as he began to slurp on his noodles.

“You’re in?” Yuna asked in complete shock, eyes completely widened. He nodded in return clearly enjoying his food, “You don’t have any questions? No concerns?”

Hoseok shrugged, “Mm well of course I’m curious as to what exactly the plan is, which I’m sure you’ll be explaining to me soon, but nope. I’d probably say no if the cause wasn’t for something important,” he looked at you giving a warm compassionate smile, “and this has got to be the most interesting thing that’s happened on this job for the past 2 years so there’s that,” his brows knitting remembering past situations with residents, “and lastly these snobs deserve what’s coming to them,” he finished off causing all three of you to laugh.

“Well then cheers to mission… ummm... “ Yuna placed her finger on her chin, causing you to facepalm yourself as she was trying to think of a name for something so irrelevant.

“7 Rings,” Hoseok interjected , “like the Ariana Grande song. I want it, I got it!”

“You like my hair gee thanks just bought it!” you guys simultaneously sang at the top of your lungs, clinking each other’s drinks.

And so that was how mission “7 Rings” came into fruition, but of course like everything else in the world, nothing ever goes as planned. If only you had realized then that things were going to change, whether they were for the better or for the worse… well that was for you to find out on your own.

author’s note 🧚🏻 : SK has universal health care but for the sake of the plot we’re going to have to pretend they have a private healthcare system so please don’t attack me lmao. Also please like & repost as it keeps me motivated to write and update faster !! Thank you in advance if you do 💞

#btswritingcafe #bts fic #bts smut #bts angst #taehyung fic #taehyung/reader #taehyung fanfic #tae fic #tae fanfic #bangtan fanfic #bangtan smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung series #7 Rings #kim taehyung #kth #kth fanfic

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notnctu · 4 years ago

Text

nct by the hour❀

▸ in which each member represents an hour of your extremely long day. its a similar concept to all the different people you encounter on a daily basis. read in chronological order!

▸[a/n] it’s author doie❀! inspired by @okmica‘s nct as types of boys ; im sorry u got notified twice bc i accidentally posted my draft lolol,, but anyways ur post absolutely butters my toast hehe idk what i wrote honestly lol

RENJUN ▸ 4:02 a.m

your own personal alarm clock, light pats on your shoulder and tiny whispers, stumbles in the dark, takes off his warm hoodie to slip onto you, leaves your door open, places a granola bar for you on the kitchen counter, the first smile of your day

HENDERY▸ 5:06 a.m

a burst of energy ride to work, brings you freshly squeezed orange juice, plays upbeat music, is overly excited to start the day, points out the sunrise, takes the scenic route bc it makes you happy

KUN ▸ 6:03 a.m

the calm and collected shift lead, greets you with good morning without a fail, goes over the work breakdown with enthusiasm, notices you did something different with your hair, says you’re his best employee

XIAOJUN ▸ 7:09 a.m

a quiet company during work prep, silently takes care of the coffee machinery, counts the money so you don’t have to, soft chuckles when arranging the display pastries, tired gazes, mutual hatred for morning shifts

JOHNNY ▸ 8:00 a.m

the very attractive regular who always gets black coffee, remembers your name, engages in small talk, touches finger tips when you give him his drink, tips $10 every time, wishes you a good day

YANGYANG ▸ 9:10 a.m

always takes up the corner of the shop, scatters his textbooks on two tables, gets awfully shy when you offer him a pastry, pushes his glasses up every three seconds, orders hot chocolate, talks to you when there are no customers in line

TAEIL ▸ 10:13 a.m

asks you for recommendations, holds up the line, compliments the pins on your apron, goes by the alias ‘moon’, is a rewards member, quirky conversations about the weather, hopes to see you tomorrow

JISUNG ▸ 11:01 a.m

the new trainee that nods to everything you teach him, fumbles with the espresso machine, doesn’t talk much, pouts whenever he messes up, thinks you’re the best at explanations, gets nervous when you don’t have the same shifts, admires you deeply

MARK ▸ 12:15 p.m

your break buddy who works next door, smells like pizza dough, shares his slice with you, always thankful that you bring him a drink, funny stories about customers, heavy sighs when break is over, never wants to leave you

CHENLE ▸ 1:00 p.m

the cheerful employee who takes your spot at the end of your shift, screams your name out of pure joy of seeing you, begs you not to go, dramatic wails of disappointment, excitedly waves goodbye over the cash register

YUTA ▸ 2:05 p.m

works at your local grocery store, helps you get something from the top shelf, throws in a bag of free candy bc he likes you, asks about how you are, gives you store discount, always acknowledges that you smell like coffee, carries your groceries to your car

JUNGWOO ▸ 3:20 p.m

the spunky waiter at your favorite restaurant, always puts your order in before you arrive, beaming smiles the moment you walk through the door, hugs you quickly, thinks you look cute today, ushers you out urgently with a small pat on your head

JAEMIN ▸ 4:03 p.m

cuddles you while you two nap, runs his fingers through your hair gently, forehead kisses, rubs circles on your shoulder, makes sure you fall asleep first, draws you into his side, forgets to set an alarm

WINWIN ▸ 5:30 p.m

misses you during lecture, rolls his eyes when he hands you his notes, grumbles about you owing him snacks, sarcastic jokes about you oversleeping, important due dates, walks you to your next class, attentively listens to your troubles

HAECHAN ▸ 6:12 p.m

takes you out to new restaurants for dinner, orders way too much, gossips about your mutuals, feeds you small spoonful bites, remembers your favorite kinds of foods, jokes playfully about how you have poor taste buds, covers the bill and doesn’t let you pay him back

JENO ▸ 7:07 p.m

the cute club leader who makes announcements, makes an effort to introduce himself personally, firm handshakes, notices you from across the room, very surface level conversations, notable eye smile that makes him even cuter, wants to get to know you better

DOYOUNG ▸ 8:03 p.m

your study buddy who hasn’t left the library since the morning, offers his jacket so you don’t get cold, proudly shows you his full set of completed flashcards, ruffles your hair whenever you rest against the table, clearly claims that he adores you, silently loves your company

JAEHYUN ▸ 9:06 p.m

the familiar handsome stranger who always meets you in the elevator, presses all the floors to spend more time with you, flashes his dimples in hopes to charm you, awkwardly sparks up a conversation, politely asks if you’d want to hang out sometime

TEN ▸ 10:00 p.m

steals you away from your studies to get ice cream, doesn’t hesitate to order your favorite flavor for you, tries to bite from your cone, always tells you to get plenty of rest, playful giggles when he teases you about your love life, wishes you had more time for him

LUCAS ▸ 11:02 p.m

the party animal who never fails to invite you over, respects your decision to not drink tonight, still comically asks you to dance with him, hypes up your awful moves, thinks you’re the most fun to be around, can be himself with you

TAEYONG ▸ 12:00 a.m

the open arms you love coming home to, readily available to hear about your entire day, gets the water started for you, droopy eyes and long yawns, tucks you into bed, holds you until you fall asleep, softly closes your door on his way out, the last smile of your day

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unholyhelbig · 4 years ago

Note

How about part two to the workplace Au you just did? Loved the first one!

A/N: Sure thing! I’m glad you guys liked the first one so much (You can read it here)

Request more prompts here | Read on ao3!

Chloe could read the discomfort on Beca Mitchell’s face as soon as she unzipped the bag that she had picked up from the dry cleaners. She was struck with the instant scent of lavender detergent, fanning her hand over the outfit like she was picking the next lucky number for the lottery.

Beca had her hand on her chin, a flash of red made her head spin. She was in sweatpants and a grease-stained shirt. She figured that if she had ignored the date on the bottom of the flyer long enough, maybe Chloe would just forget.

No such luck.

“How did you find my apartment?” She asked, clinging to the door.

“It was in your file.”

“I feel like this is slightly illegal.”

“Slightly,” Chloe pushed her way through the door and looked around the apartment. It was kept in a shockingly messy state. Beca presented herself as someone who dotted every ‘I’ and crossed every ‘T’. At least, that’s how she was at work. But there was a leaning tower of pizza boxes and a couple of record sleeves strewn across the room. “You’re not even close to ready.”

“I forgot,” She let the door swing closed “what if we just ignore this PR bullshit and watch a movie instead. Technically I’m still socializing.”

Chloe turned on her heel and scanned Beca up and down. She hugged the bag close to her. “It would look horrible for me to ditch a party I planned.”

“Then you go. I’ll keep watch here.”

“Beca,”

The coder flopped down onto the pile of blankets at the far end of the sofa. She crossed her socked feet and waved her hand in the air as if asking Chloe to continue. For the first time tonight, she noticed the makeup and the slim fitted dress that hugged every inch of the woman’s curves. The black material made the sharp disdain in her eyes glow even further.

But goddamn it, if she wasn’t absolutely captivating. And she smelled lie oranges. Beca had half the mind to stealthy survey her fingers for any trace of a ring. She hadn’t done so in the office, but there was no man to be seen in them. She had blown her chance, she figured, by being her authentic self.

“Red isn’t my color.” She stared at the dress. It had a plunging neckline and would make her look pale. She wasn’t working with much, Chloe was kidding herself. She was also here three full hours before the dreaded thing was supposed to start.

“Just give it a shot. You promised.”

“Wrong. I considered.”

Chloe tossed the bag at her. The fabric was nice, soft against her fingers. She stared at the slight bit of lace and the little bag of gold jewelry that the woman had attached. A few rings and a necklace tipped with a triangle that practically pointed at her cleavage.

“Alright, whatever. I’ll shower.”

She hoisted herself from the couch and tried not to stare too long at the look of triumph on Chloe’s face. It was equally as infuriating as it was attractive. She grabbed a towel from the pile of unfolded clothes on the other end of the sofa and vanished into the back hallway.

Chloe stood like a statue until she heard the water running. Then her curiosity got the better of her and she started to glace around the space; the walls were slathered in charcoal grey and a few album covers were framed and tacked up. Beca had a record player and an extensive library of music. It seemed to be the only tidy thing in here.

She walked over to the couch and picked up one of the blankets. It smelled like detergent and whatever musk Beca radiated herself. She started absently folding, chewing the inside of her lip, so deep in thought that she hadn’t even realized that the shower had shut off and Beca padded into the room in nothing but a towel, still soaked to the bone.

She cleared her throat “Did you clean up?”

“It’s a nervous habit,” Chloe turned and tried not to let her breath catch. The employee usually stuck with baggy sweatpants and even baggier shirts. They didn’t’ have a dress code at work and she border-lined pajamas with her outfit choices. But Beca? Beca had a figure. “You ready?”

“I’m at your mercy.” She grumbled, “But no eyeliner.”

“oh, come on.”

“You’re not getting close to my eye with a pencil, forget it.” She crossed her arms over her chest, not letting the towel slip in the slightest “Fine. But I’m doing it. Stop pouting.”

Chloe begged to differ. She didn’t pout. She didn’t’ want to push it any further though, so she nodded and grasped the dress before letting Beca lead the way to her room.

Beca tugged uncomfortably at the hem of her dress as they exited the car. It had hiked up as soon as she sat down, but at that point, she didn’t’ care. The weather had taken a turn to the colder side and she just wanted feeling in her legs. A light dusting of snow had forced their driver to flick on the wipers and move closer to the glass to see past the haze of headlights.

Chloe grasped at her wrist absently, forcing her to stop shifting the fabric. Her hand was warm enough to shock her into complying, but not without a glare. They looked like quite the pair; Beca was almost the same height as Chloe with the heels that were supplied, and she stood out horridly. Red like blood on the snow after a fresh hunt.

The company had spared no expense with the carpet, purple like their logo and leading into a lavish lobby in a hotel that Beca had never been in. She was sure they would throw her out if she walked in and asked to use the bathroom with fancy soap. But when Chloe was at her side, looping her arm through her own, she could pass instantly.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Chloe read the blush on the woman’s cheeks “I’m sure if I weren’t holding onto you, you’d be face down on the floor by now. Take it slow.”

“You sound like a stage mom.”

“In that case,” she frowned “You’re a horrible student.”

Beca scoffed but was secretly thankful for the human crutch. Chloe had an easy way of walking about her, she pulled her shoulders back and lifted her chin, and acted like she owned the whole building. It was one foot in front of the other, and Beca wobbled on the first few, but eventually evened out. Maybe the stance was a tactical thing- to keep the balance.

They walked through the doors and Beca instantly felt her legs wobble at the direct warmth. There was a clothed table by the entrance, lined with identical masks. Chloe plucked a red one off the table and passed Beca a black one, looking at her expectantly.

“The whole purpose of this is for you to get comfortable being around people. Maybe you can do that if they can’t see the top half of your face.” She spoke with ease as she knotted her own mask. And she had to admit, even though this was utterly stupid, she wouldn’t have recognized Chloe in a crowd. Not if she hadn’t spent the last four hours with her.

She fastened her own mask and took Chloe’s outstretched hand, begrudgingly but thankful at the same time; the ballroom was equally as impressive, violet lights on an installed dance floor and clothed tables with little favors and plates. It looked like a wedding for bank robbers, but Beca couldn’t help letting her mouth prop open.

“Shocked?” Chloe asked, scanning the décor “I do know how to throw a hell of a party.”

“The last party I went to was not this classy.” Beca breathed “We did have bongs made out of apples though, so I’m going to need you to step up your game.”

Chloe smiled, it looked brighter under her mask. She leads them towards a table in the corner and plucked two flutes of champagne from the passing waiter. Alcohol. That was something that Beca wasn’t opposed to. She finished it in two long gulps.

She hovered awkwardly by as the woman who had dragged her here in the first place spoke with a couple of people that she wouldn’t have recognized even if they were shrouded by masks. They shouted over the music; a man in a snazzy looking suit questioned her presence.

“This is one of the most talented coders we have!” Chloe shouted over the sound of the base “Almost single-handedly created the VPN.”

“You’re impressive!” He called out to her “Such a pretty date too!”

Chloe just laughed and Beca thanked him over the bass. He squeezed Chloe’s shoulder before vanishing into the crowd. She leaned close then, her breath hot against Beca’s collarbone, and that familiar floral scent clouded her lungs and judgment. “See, that wasn’t so hard. You’re a natural. Want to dance?”

She did not, in fact, want to dance. But Chloe pulled her onto the floor almost as smoothly as the champagne glasses. Beca was glad that she had swallowed it so quickly. It made the idea of dancing seem more appealing. And Chloe did have good taste in music.

They worked themselves into the crowd and Beca let the sound flow through her. She ignored all of the people, for the most part. Chloe was painfully obvious behind her, grinding close, running her hands across the dress that she had picked out. Beca felt like she was back in college- and she had to admit, she was having fun.

She lost track of how many songs they had danced to, but eventually, the DJ lowered the music and spoke into the microphone. “Alright folks, we having fun? I hope so! I want to interrupt your masquerade for just a moment.”

There were a few groans from the crowd, but none of them sincere.

“Now, I know you’re all being secretive about your identities tonight. But I want to pull the one and only Chloe Beale onto the stage. Y’all okay with that?”

There were a few shouts from the people around her, followed by applause as Chloe gave Beca’s arm a squeeze and maneuvered her way through the crowd. A woman in an even tighter navy blue dress helped her up the stage and Beca clapped along, lilting her head as she watched, captivated like the rest of the room.

This didn’t’ feel customary, bringing the party planner up to say a few words. Not when it was essentially a giant PR event for a tech company. Beca crossed her arms over her chest as Chloe captivated an entire crowd.

“I’m glad you’re all having fun under the cover of the night,” She lowered her voice dramatically, flashing that brilliant smile. “And we’re so happy to unveil our new VPN, that everyone has been working so hard on.”

It had been months of coding, Beca having to fix so many bugs that the 0’s and 1’s ran circles around her head. Hearing praise from Chloe’s lips made her tingly- or maybe that was the buzzing of her skin after eating cold pizza for breakfast and drinking on a nearly empty stomach.

“We strive for innovation and protection, and our new product can give you just that.” She gripped the podium and waited for a few cheers to settle “When I first started this company in my parent's basement, which doubled as our laundry room, I never imagined this. Thank you, and enjoy the party!”

Beca’s heart had seized in her chest then, as the music started up and the people around her moved with the rhythm once more. She let them bump into her as she mindlessly walked to the edge of the lit-up floor, towards Chloe.

This made sense to her, finally, it made sense. The reason why she was pushing her so hard to interact with other people in the office, why she didn’t have a title on her door. Chloe was the boss. Chloe had seen her ratty apartment and, oh my god, Chloe knows she smokes weed.

The woman in the navy dress talked animatedly to the woman at the side of the stage, nodding and gesturing to the rest of the room. Chloe looked pensive, she mumbled something under her breath and immediately turned towards Beca.

“Dude, what the hell?” She asked, sounding less elegant than she’d hoped.

Chloe shrugged “Stacie from HR wanted to talk to you first but I thought I’d give it a shot.”

“This is literally your party.”

“Yes?”

“Like in your honor. Not something you planned.”

“Well, I did that too.” She shrugged nonchalantly as Beca gaped at her “Look, Beca. I like you, okay? You’re one stubborn girl. And I wanted to spend a night with you, is all. When the report about your lack of social skills happened across my desk, I took a chance.”

She felt her cheeks heat up “You could have just asked me, you know?”

“Would you have said yes?”

“Absolutely not,” She pointed her finger “But only because you’re making me wear a dress. Maybe next time, we could just settle for street tacos or something?”

Chloe laughed, and it was a beautiful sound that mixed so perfectly with the music. “Next time?”

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe beale #bechloe #bechloe au #bechloe oneshot #bechloe fic rec #bechloe fanfiction #Pitch Perfect #pitch perfect au #pitch perfect fanfiction #workplace au

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joheun-saram · 4 years ago

Text

To Make a Power Couple (knj) | 03

Chapter 3 - Coincidences

previous| masterlist | next

Summary- Do their dates ever go according to plan? Well, who knew watching George Clooney was such an aphrodisiac.

word count- 6.2k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, slow burn, fluff, smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- unwanted sexual advances (don’t worry, it’s not namjoon and it’s not overly discussed), alcohol consumption, oral sex (f. receiving), hickeys, dry humping, sex

a.n- okay so I wrote my first smut scene. AAAAH. I’m sorry if it’s not the best - I tried and realized I don’t know how to get into a guys headspace during sex lmfao 🙃 Namjoon is also a high-key cheeseball and God of Destruction strikes. I’m sorry but I had to - his face when he breaks things makes me simultaneously laugh and uwu.

Also, in case you missed it I have a lot of feelings about Batman having a credit card. Batman and Robin is an absurd movie but I still love it.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut, @rjsmochii, @jinjccns

You were greeted by Siwon and a coffee as you walked to the elevator of your office building yawning furiously, uncharacteristically dressed in a navy pantsuit with a white turtleneck in anticipation of your big meeting today. To say you were nervous would be an understatement. You were meeting one of the big tech companies’ senior VP and your deal hinged on his approval. You were not looking forward to it - he was a certified creep.

“Alright so your meetings in about four hours, we can finish the proposal in about two and then we can prep for the next two.” Siwon was in full assistant mode, rattling off details to add to the proposal that unbeknownst to him you had already finished last night.

“Proposal’s done so let’s skip to the prep,” you say as you step out of the elevator to your floor.

“Did you stay late? Yah Y/N! You know you can’t overwork like that! Also, this building is so creepy at night. Don’t tell me you stayed here alone.” He scolded you, effortlessly switching from employee to friend. You loved that he cared so much about you.

“I’m sorry, but if it makes you feel better - I wasn’t alone.” As you make your way to your desk you notice the kitchen filled with pink pastry boxes. “What’s all that?” you questioned as you forego your desk making a beeline for the kitchen, having skipped breakfast that morning for a much needed hour of sleep.

“What do you mean you weren’t alone?” Siwon was looking at you suspiciously with his eyebrow quirked. When you reached the boxes you noticed that they were filled with all sorts of breakfast goodies, from croissants to danishes to doughnuts. Your mouth watered as you grabbed a buttery croissant, anticipating the taste before it even made it on your plate.

“Y/N! Someone sent them over this morning with this note.” Timothy, your head of curriculum, handed you a pink envelope that matched the boxes. Placing your breakfast on the table you opened the note, hoping it wasn’t a client because that meant you would have to send something to them and would get caught in one of those one-upping gifting circlejerks. Arguably the worst part of corporate life.

Good luck on your meeting today. I’m rooting for you!

-N

PS: this is also your reminder to drink water - stay hydrated! ;)

Your mouth flew open as you reread the note, a grin slowly spreading on your face. As Siwon read over your shoulder, he gasped loudly. Luckily no one else was within earshot or else they would notice you not so gently elbow your assistant and call HR.

“Oh my god… Is this from who I think it’s from?” He sputtered, grinning and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Was he the one keeping you company last night?”

“What? NO!” You giggled nervously as he playfully smacked your arm. “Maybe…” you whispered, shrugging, giving in to his charms.

“Is this why you are wearing a turtleneck? Did he rock your world? Did he bangtan that sonyeondan?”

“Shut up please!” You hissed at Siwon. You really wished you had a closed office now as you walked to your desk and grabbed your laptop, going into one of the meeting rooms that hopefully no one else booked that morning.

“So spill.” Siwon said as he settled into the chair next to you on the long stained oak table.

“There’s nothing to spill. We worked together and had pizza. And before you ask, no we did not have sex. It was our first date!” You huffed as you started your laptop.

“What did you do to him?” He asked in awe.

“Excuse me?” You were getting irritated now. To insinuate that you did something to him was pretty callous of Siwon. It reminded you of the times in university when your best friend dropped you because her crush told her that he liked you instead of her. You had no intentions of liking that guy, he was honestly not your type, too lazy and self-entitled to ever catch your attention, but she did not hesitate in cutting all ties and insisting you moved out of your shared apartment. According to her, you seduced him with your looks and personality. Pfft. As if life were so easy that you could manipulate whoever you liked into liking you back. However, Siwon was unaware of this incident so you decided to calm your annoyance a little.

“Sorry. I mean he’s sending the whole office breakfast after a first date. He must really like you.” He caught on to your tone and corrected himself. He was good at catching your tonal nuances by now, and you were grateful.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get annoyed.” You sighed, smiling forcefully, as you pulled up the proposal you worked on earlier that morning. “I really like him too.” You admitted. It kind of felt nice to share that with someone. Usually you would pick up your phone the moment you felt a date go right and tell Jiyoung right away, but knowing what a huge fan she was you wanted to feel out the situation more before she got too excited.

While relaying the events of last night to a very excited Siwon, you texted Namjoon.

Y/N: Wow. Breakfast for the whole office? Big moves.

Namjoon: Well I am trying to woo the CEO. Gotta bring in the big guns!

Y/N: And you think you can woo me with baked goods?

Namjoon: That depends…

Namjoon: Is it working?

Y/N: Yes. Yes it is...

Y/N: Thank you btw. This was really sweet!

Namjoon: Then everything is going according to plan :)

Y/N: I’m excited for tonight

Namjoon: Me too! I miss you!

Y/N: Joon you saw me like eight hours ago!

Namjoon: Eight hours too long!

Y/N: Omg! Stop! You’re so cheesy...

Namjoon: Never!

You walked into the conference room with Harry and Siwon twenty minutes before noon and the three of you started setting up, nerves on high alert. You wrung your hands as you rearranged the printouts on the table for the sixth time, before Harry pulled you into a hug.

“You got this bub! We’re gonna kill it and then celebrate and blow all the money from this deal.” You laughed as your nerves melted. This was the reason he was your best friend and partner in crime. You got out of the embrace, infinitely more calm as you settled in your seat at the end of the table.

Soon, your client, Mr Li, arrived with two other people from his team. The presentation went smoothly if you were to ignore the fact that every time you glanced at Li his eyes seemed to be fixated on your chest. His team, however, was much less sleazy. After you finished presenting, you and Harry spent about an hour answering their questions and concerns before negotiating another lucrative contract for your company. With this deal done, you will be able to meet your company’s quarterly goals.

As soon as the meeting ended, Li’s team, now joined by their legal team, that arrived a few minutes before the end, was escorted to your legal floor to sort out the details of the contract.

“So this is a cause for celebration!” Li booms loudly as he shakes Harry’s hand, before pulling you into an unwanted hug. The hug was extremely tight as you felt your chest being squished by his, knocking the air out of you. You awkwardly try to escape, confused by his less than professional behaviour, eyes widened and staring at Harry. “We should all get some drinks in a few weeks to truly seal the deal.”

“Yes, we will definitely set up something with our assistants. I’m not sure if Y/N will be able to join because of her hectic schedule, but I will definitely be there.” Harry swiftly stepped in to shake Li’s hand one more time, subtly but clearly giving you an out. You were immensely relieved till you heard Li’s next words.

“It’s no party without the CEO. I bet she’s a real firecracker with a few drinks in her!” He laughed full-bellied, elbowing an uncomfortably stunned Harry as you gave him a tight lipped smile.

“Of course. We’ll set something up soon, Mr Li. Now if you excuse me I have another meeting to attend. We’re very excited to work with you!” You forced a fake smile as you exited the cringe-inducing situation. You grabbed some water when you reached your desk, drinking it to get the nasty taste of the situation out of your head. Sometimes you truly hated having to plaster a smile to appease clients, but unfortunately it was part of the job.

Your mood lightened significantly as your phone buzzed, instantly forgetting about the creepy old man. You picked up to hear Namjoon’s baritone voice greeting you as you ducked into a small meeting room, locking the door and settling on the comfy couch at the end.

“How did it go?” He seemed a bit out of breath.

“Nailed it! Although the guy was a certified creep.”

“Oh I’m sorry for that. What happened?” Genuine concern laced his tone.

“He just didn’t have any concerns for personal space” you sighed but your heart warmed at his worry for you. “Why are you out of breath?”

“That sucks! I just got done with dance practice.” He quickly picked up on your hesitance to go into further detail. “I haven’t danced this intensely in a while!”

“Oh! I would love to see you dance!” You giggled.

“Trust me I’m not good. It is not worth it.”

“I don’t believe you. I guess I’ll have to see it to judge for myself.”

“Hmm… maybe. Fair warning, there are literal twitter pages dedicated to my terrible moves.”

“Well then those people are assholes. I bet they’re jealous because you are an amazing dancer.”

_________________________________

Namjoon hung up the call and stared at the call log on his phone, displaying that he had been on the phone with you for over thirty five minutes. It felt like it had been barely two. He didn’t know why talking to you improved his mood this much, but just hearing your voice was enough to make him forget the stress from messing up the choreography almost every run though this morning, and especially Hoseok’s disappointing face as he tried and failed to correct his moves.

Getting back to the big mirrored room, he decided to go through the steps again alone to really nail down the routine, his head full of your plans later this evening. Initially, he had planned a romantic dinner to a high end restaurant in Gangnam but after his manager’s email this morning that he might be being followed, you both had decided on a quiet evening at your apartment. You had insisted it would be safer this way since the suspected stalker would not know where he was going, but he still felt a little uncomfortable about possibly putting your home in danger. He remembered when Yoongi had a stalker three years ago and they all had to pretty much be holed together in the dorms to ensure their safety. Luckily, they were smarter now with a much larger budget for security so these incidents barely encroached on their everyday activities. Still, this was the first time he was seeing someone while dealing with this and that made him wary.

After practicing for another couple of hours, Namjoon headed back home before getting ready for the evening. The closer the clock ticked towards 7, the more nervous he seemed to get. He had butterflies in his stomach as he styled his hair for the fifth time. Giving up, he grabbed the small bouquet of sunflowers he had prepared for the evening and headed towards the car waiting to pick him up downstairs.

As much as he had talked to you over the last few days, the pressure of this being a real date made him want to make a good impression. He was disappointed that he couldn’t wow you with a gourmet meal and even though he was confident that you enjoyed his company, the fact that you would basically be forced to stay with him if you wanted to leave tonight made him uneasy.

Fidgeting with the collar of his black t-shirt, he braced himself as he knocked on your door. You took his breath away when you opened the door, dressed in a beautiful red sundress that hugged all your curves perfectly. You smiled widely at him as you greeted him. Your pink dusted cheeks and the way your eyes sparkled as you saw him, made all his earlier worries disappear. His heart sang as you excitedly took the bouquet, sniffing the flowers before busying yourself and looking for a jar to place them in. He was glad he went through the effort of buying them. Well, the effort of bribing one of the staff with lunch for them.

“How did you know these are my favourite flowers?” You sounded shocked.

“I saw them everywhere at the gala, so I figured even if they weren’t your favourites you at least liked them.” He smiled widely, internally celebrating going for those over Jin’s suggestion of the typical roses. He watched as you carefully snapped the stems of the flowers and placed them in the jar a little too small to contain all the flowers. He couldn’t help but think how stunning you looked biting your lip concentrating while arranging the flowers, taking care not to break off any leaves.

Your apartment reflected your personality it seemed. The kitchen was attached to the large living room, separated by a large island that you were working on. The living room had a large comfortable yellow couch with a few fuzzy blankets and white pillows, facing a television on the wall surrounded by framed posters of music festivals, which he gathered from the dates were ones you attended. He also noticed a vintage looking record player next to the opposite wall with a shelf full of books and records, arranged in seemingly no order; the books differing in lengths with random records popped between them. Everything was extremely clean but he could make out some clutter like a pair of keys attached to an Apeach keychain next to the window, and a pair of sunglasses that were precariously hanging off the edge of a small table in the corner. He felt that he was looking inside your brain a little, and it made him extremely grateful that you had deemed him worthy enough to invite him over. He didn’t know if that was something you were comfortable enough doing with everyone you met or dated, or if inviting him to your apartment was an anomaly, and he’d be lying if he didn’t hope it was the latter. The thought that he was getting special treatment made him giddy.

After arranging your flowers, you made your way to Namjoon, and he felt your arms around his waist as you wrapped him a hug.

“Thank you” you whispered into his chest and even this small gesture made him blush.

“I just wanted to cheer you up after that shitty meeting.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders. He could feel you smile into his chest, something that was confirmed when you separated after a few seconds and made your way to the couch. He missed your warmth already.

“Honestly, just talking to you after it cheered me up.” He sat next to you on the couch as you poured two glasses of white wine, handing him one. “I know we just talked but how was the rest of your day?”

You both shared news about the rest of your days with each other while waiting for dinner to arrive. The conversation was easy and fluid, easily shifting from mundane everyday events to anecdotes about your friends while you ate your pastas and finished the bottle of wine. He appreciated that unlike other people he had dated you didn’t seem surprised that he had friends outside the band and that most of his stories revolved around them rather than BTS. He always felt that so much of his friendship with the guys was broadcasted that he’d be retelling something that people had already watched so to the disappointment of a lot of his dates, he shared more about his other friends. Like how last year he went on a trip to Paris with childhood friends and got kicked out of the Louvre because they accidentally almost knocked down an exhibit. Or when one of his friends got so unbelievably drunk he had to bribe him with actual money to ensure he didn’t sleep in the park. He enjoyed hearing your university tales too, laughing out loud when you recounted the time you had drunkenly won a debate with one of your friends on which Batman was the best, resulting in the said friend to streak around the neighbourhood.

“Wait so you’re telling me if you lost, you would have to streak instead?” His eyes were wide as he looked at you. He had not expected you to have this wild side. He was intrigued, if not slightly turned on by the idea that this side might show up later.

“I would. I never break a promise.” You looked smug as you smiled over your wine glass. “But if I’m being honest, I knew I would win. Who thinks Clooney is the best Batman? He had a bat credit card for crying out loud!” He smiled as you ranted about how Batman would even apply for a credit card and the unlikelihood of him having a social security number without giving away his identity. Sure, Namjoon had never seen this particular Batman movie, or any to be fair, but the way you passionately discussed the superhero was so endearing to him that he couldn’t help nodding along enthusiastically at each point you made, giggling as he did so.

“Okay. I have not seen that movie, but that sounds hilarious.” He commented as he finished the last of the wine in his glass.

“What? It is a cinematic meme masterpiece! We have to watch it!”

_________________________________

That’s how you ended up watching Batman and Robin, a second bottle of wine open on the coffee table. You hadn’t imagined that’s how you’ll be spending the next few hours with Namjoon. In fact, you did not want to impose your nerdy views on him at all, but tipsy you had other ideas. He seemed to be enjoying the movie too, laughing justly at the bat nipples and stupid ice puns. However with each corny flirt Poison Ivy threw at one of the many men on screen, you couldn’t help but notice how closely you were sitting next to a man hotter than any on your television. He had his arm around your shoulders and your head rested slightly on his chest, engulfed in his woodsy scent. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him, resisting the urge to reach up and kiss his jaw where it rested on his hand.

You had wanted to kiss him the moment he walked in the door with flowers in hand. No date had ever brought you flowers before and it set your heart aflutter. If he was any more perfect, you’d be worried you had imagined him and that you’d wake up from a very long, very surreal dream. The next time you glanced up at him you found him looking at you, a soft smile on his face, his dimples looking extra cute as he looked into your eyes.

Feeling uncharacteristically bashful, you smiled back at him, willing yourself not to avert his gaze. “Hi,” you muttered.

“Hi” His deep voice reverberated through your body and before you could tell your heart to stop thudding at your chest, Namjoon closed the space between you. His lips were slightly chapped as he brushed them against yours gently - unrushed and soft. He took his time, his lips dancing around yours as if in a practiced waltz, as he moved his hand to your cheek, thumb stroking your cheekbones. Before you could deepen the kiss, you separated, much to your disappointment and he went back to watching the movie.

“Oh look! It’s the credit card scene.” He said nonchalantly as if he had not just taken your breath away.

“Joon! This movie is stupid,” you whined as you reached for his face, but before you could reach it he grabbed your wrist.

“But it’s a cinematic meme masterpiece!” He teased you with your earlier comment, his eyes lit with mirth.

You pouted in defiance. “You can’t just kiss me like this and expect me to go back to watching the movie.”

“Aww! Cute!” He cooed as you huff, but before you could protest further, he kissed you again. Unlike the first time, this kiss was fierce, sparking a need in you. His lips pressed firmly against yours as his arm moved from around you to maneuver you on top of his lap. He did not hold back as he kissed you with a yearning you felt pulsate through you. He coaxed his way into your mouth as you didn't hesitate for a second, your hands running through the hair at the nape of his neck.

His hands were on your hips and as he pulled you closer you couldn’t help but roll your hips on him, feeling him hardening under you, a moan escaping from your mouth into his. Your dress was almost pulled to your waist and the rough material of his jeans felt delicious against your lace panties. You couldn’t help but roll your hips again, wanting him much closer than he already was.

“Baby you can’t do that to me.” He whined, his voice heavy with desire, as he started placing kisses down your face to your neck.

“Why not?” Your eyes spoke of challenge as you once again grind on him, a light moan escaping your lips, teasingly.

He stops kissing you as he looks up at you sternly, his jaw jutting out slightly. “Because I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

“Fuck that. Let’s be b-”

Before you can finish your sentence, he is spinning you around to lay you on the couch, hovering above you, your legs on either side of his body. Your head is caged between his arms, your dress barely covering your panties, as he smirks at you before rocking his hip against you, eliciting a loud gasp from you.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he kisses your neck, softly biting in a way that you’re sure there will be marks tomorrow, before soothing it with his tongue.

“Yes” you whisper as you reach down to palm him over his pants, making him groan where he’s kissing behind your ear.

“Fuck… Can I take this off?” His hand is on the zipper of your dress and as soon as you nod, he is pulling it down, increasing his force when it gets caught. Suddenly he stops, his eyes wide with alarm. Leaning up slightly you follow his gaze to his hand where he holds your zipper, no longer attached to the dress. He looks like a kid that broke an expensive vase in a store and you can’t help but laugh.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry!” The more he apologizes, the more you laugh at the situation, tears filling up your eyes. How could he be sexily growling in your ear one moment, making you drench your panties, and be this adorably guilty looking the next? Pushing him off you stand up and coax the rest of the zip down, letting the dress pool at your feet, as you grab his hand, urging him to stand up.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” You lead him across the hall to your bedroom, and he quickly recovers from his blunder, wrapping himself behind you as he continues to kiss your neck and face.

“I’ll buy you a new dress! Sorry!” He says as you sit down at the end of your bed.

“Joonie, stop apologizing and fuck me.” You pull at his shirt, and thankfully he gets the hint, smoothly taking it off and throwing it beside you with a quick “Yes, ma'am.” You are mesmerized by his body, as you trace your hands up to his toned chest, thanking the god you didn’t believe in for this moment. Smirking at your adoration, he kisses you again, pushing you to lie down with his arm around your waist as he pushes you further up the bed till your head hits the pillows.

He continues kissing you as you run your hands over his chest and back, wanting to consume all of him. “Mmm, you’re so beautiful.” He moans as he kisses down your neck to your chest, rubbing himself on you, his fingers lingering at the waistband of your panties. He looks to you for consent and seeing your enthusiastic nod, he pulls them down, groaning at your arousal that liberally coats them.

“Baby, you’re so wet.” He whispers, amazed as if you had any other choice considering his earlier teasing. He kisses your lips again as his fingers slide against your lips teasingly, making you rut your hips against his hand in an effort to feel him inside.

“Joonie, please. Stop teasing” You whine against his lips, and thankfully he does, pushing one finger inside, making you cry out as you tip your head back against the pillows. Taking advantage of your angled head he presses his lips to your neck, leaving another hickey as one finger becomes two, deliciously stretching you and making you clench against him. Your head is cloudy with endorphins as he curls his fingers expertly thrusting in you, filling the room with your wanton moans. He kisses up to your ear, nibbling a little at your lobe.

“I want to taste you.” His voice is heavy with want and it sends a shiver up your spine. You clench around his fingers in anticipation as he kisses down your body, pulling your bra cups down to pay extra attention to your hardened nipples. His bangs brush against your skin raising goosebumps as he places multiple small pecks on your soft belly before reaching his destination.

“Look here, baby.” He says and as soon as you make eye contact, he pulls out his fingers, placing them in his mouth sucking on them with a groan, making heat rise up your neck. “You’re fucking delicious.”

Your heart is about to explode out of your chest and you can’t help but squirm but he holds your legs apart, slowly kissing each inner thigh as he takes his time. He really has a knack for teasing, and you wouldn’t complain if not for the aching between your legs. You’re desperate for him.

Finally, he lays on his stomach, his long legs dangling off the bed, as he holds your gaze, grinning, before giving you a long lick, making you shudder. He moans into you as he continues his long licks, your fingers making their way to his hair.

He focuses his attention on your clit, sucking and increasing his speed. No one has eaten you out like this. You remember after drinks with your friends claiming that it sucked that you were straight because guys always suck at eating pussy. Oh how wrong you were, you thought as Namjoon added his fingers back into the mix, thrusting as his tongue lapped at your clit, making you see stars. You could feel the familiar heat in your core as you tugged his hair, making him groan, a chant of his name on your lips as you feel yourself becoming undone. Your toes curl into the comforter below you as your legs shake screaming his name. He coaxes you though your orgasm, slowing his thrusts and licking you clean as you come down. When you could feel the overstimulation, you called his name, lightly stroking his hair. You kind of felt bad for pulling on it that tightly earlier.

He wiped his face as he came up towards you, smiling triumphantly. He kissed you and you could taste yourself on his lips.

“You did so well for me, baby.” You had never been praised for orgasming and although you had just cum you felt yourself getting wet all over again. You kissed him again, reaching to undo his jeans and struggling.

“Are you sure? We can stop here if you want.” Namjoon says against your lips.

“Shut up and get naked, Joon” you huff against his lips as he chuckles, flipping on his back next to you to undo his pants and pulling them off along with his boxers. You bite your lip as you see his cock emerge, bouncing against his stomach, his head dripping precum. Your mouth waters as you undo your bra, tossing it to the side, before reaching for his generous length. He hisses as your thumb runs over the tip, and you use the precum to stroke him slowly.

Suddenly, he grabs your wrist, stopping your exploration. “I’m going to cum if you don’t stop.”

You peck his lips as he lets go, turning around and reaching out for the condoms in your bedside drawer. Ripping the packet open, you pinch the tip, smirking as you place it in your mouth, enjoying the way his eyes widen in surprise as you stroke him twice before using your lips to encase his length in latex.

“Holy fuck. You’re perfect.” He grabs your face as soon as you’re done and kisses you fiercely as he once again lays you under him. His length rubs against your clit, sending jolts of pleasures up your spine as you rut your hips upwards. Getting the hint, he grabs his cock and lines it to your entrance. Your insides flutter as you feel him run his tip between your folds collecting your arousal, making you mewl a weak “please”. His face is flushed and his eyes are dark as he guides himself in smoothly, both of you moaning at the pleasure. The stretch is unbelievable, and you close your eyes as the sensation.

He waits a beat for you to accommodate him and as soon as you nod, he pulls back to thrust in again. Slowly he builds up to a rhythm that has you both panting. The room is full of the sounds of your bodies colliding and heavy breaths. You open your eyes to see him with his tongue between his lips and his jaw clenched. The same look of concentration he had when he was writing his songs in your office last night, and you felt yourself clench around him in pleasure. He moaned lowly and it was like you could feel his voice travel through you.

“Oh my god, Joon!” you cried as he changed his angle, hitting your g-spot directly, and increased his speed, thrusting harder.

“I got you, baby. I got you.” He reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers, pressing his forehead against yours, pressing kisses against your cheeks. You could feel yourself getting close again as he continued his pace, and by the way his grip on your hand tightened you could tell he was getting there too. You wrapped your legs around him as he started to get sloppier, getting lost in chasing pleasure.

“Cum for me baby, please.” He pleaded as his fingers reached between you to tease your clit, shooting waves of pleasure through you. He sucked on your neck and the sensation was too much. You feel yourself tighten around him and he groans as the tension building in your stomach snaps, making you cum hard around him, his name on your tongue as your fingers dig into his back.

He fucks you through your orgasm, hard and fast, before cumming himself with a loud groan and collapsing on you. Your bodies panting in unison as you both try to catch your breath. You’re both still holding hands, as he sweetly kisses your cheek, before pulling himself off of you, discarding the condom in the trash can, and laying back next to you. After you both calm down, he speaks staring at the ceiling.

“Do you have cameras in here?”

“What?” You are confused as you turn to look at him.

“Wouldn’t wanna make a sex tape on our second date.” He laughs, turning on his side and wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Oh my god. I hate you.” You playfully swat at his chest.

“Nah, you like me.” He grins, kissing the tip of your nose as you roll your eyes. “But it’s okay because I really like you too.”

“You are so cheesy!” you groan, but your face flushes at his words, your heart dancing in your chest. “I’m going to pee.”

“No, stay.” He whines pulling you close to his chest. You oblige him for all of two minutes, before grabbing his shirt from the end of the bed, putting it on, grabbing a fresh pair of panties, and making your way to the ensuite.

When you return you find him still on your bed, albeit in his boxers now, lying amongst your many pillows with his hands behind his head. Hearing your footsteps, he turns to you and smiles, reaching his hand out to pull you in with him. Cuddling you into his chest, he pulls the comforter over the two of you.

“You’re staying?” You hadn’t expected him to stay and you felt your heart warm at the way he did not rush to leave after sex. You knew he wasn’t the kind of person to just be in it for the sex, but it was your second date so you had kept your expectations low.

“Do you not want me to?” He asks with a pout, stiffening, and you could hear how fast his heart was beating.

“Please stay.” You snuggled closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, as you felt him relax and kiss the top of your head. “Want to see something cool?”

He hummed as you asked your google home to show you the sky. It was a dumb impulse purchase you made after a week of late nights of work at home and you hadn’t had the opportunity to show it off yet. You watched his mouth open in awe as the connected device turned off all the lights in your room and projected the milky way on to your ceiling. You chuckled at his child-like reaction. After talking to him this much, you were kind of sure that this would be how he’d act. You were pretty similar and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had the same reaction when you first saw the constellations on your ceiling. He was quiet for a while, taking in the view and the only way you knew he was awake was by the way his hand softly caressed your hair.

“Hey Y/N. Do you ever think how crazy it is that we met?” His voice was almost a whisper as he turned on his side to look at you. Turning to face him, you placed your hand on his cheek as he continued. “Like you would have to make a company at the perfect time, get your contract with Samsung, decide to move to Korea, convince my boss to sign with you, and then throw that gala, and at the same time I would have to decide to be a rapper, sign to this company, make it big at the right time, come across your non-profit at the right time, and successfully convince Bang PD to let us go to your event. Isn’t that crazy how all those little decisions led to this?”

You were stunned. You had never thought about it that way. How everyone you met was by such a coincidence, how you met Joon was such a coincidence. The way he phrased it made it seem like fate. Maybe it was.

“You forgot about the part where I almost didn’t let you come to the gala.” You joked. You knew he was being serious, but your internal defense mechanisms were in full gear. You didn’t know why you were making light of his beautiful statement, but you felt if you didn’t, you’d fall for him even further and you weren't ready for that.

“What do you mean?” He chuckled, his hand rubbing circles into your waist.

“Your team asked me four hours before the gala that you were coming.” He snorted at your response. “You’re lucky Jiyoung is a fan.”

“Well, then I’ll send a thank you card to her.” He gazed at you adoringly as he pulled you closer. “You know I wasn’t joking earlier… I really like you.”

“I really like you too, Joon.” you whispered as he captured your lips into a kiss. You both continued discussing the coincidences that had to align for you to meet, stealing kisses as you drift off to sleep.

Wrapped up in his arms, with the twinkling stars on your ceiling, it was the best sleep you had had in a long while.

____________________

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#bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts rm scenario #bts scenarios #bts #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon smut #bts rm #bts namjoon #rm x reader #rm smut

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rwbyconversations · 5 years ago

Text

Rooster Teeth Glassdoor Crunch/Overtime Accusations #AnimatorsFirst

EDIT: Georden Whitman, former creator of Nomad of Nowhere, has come out and publicly confirmed the Glassdoor reviews are true.

Original story:

Rooster Teeth’s Glassdoor reviews have recently made serious allegations against the company, with people who work for the company claiming that the company engages in practices involving heavy crunch periods, a resistance to providing benefits, eighty hour work weeks, a management team trying to justify crunch and unpaid overtime that, according to some, led to as much as a third of RWBY and gen;LOCK’s recent seasons being made effectively for free.

Below are screencaps and exact quotes from the pages. Any emphasis made is done by me.

From May 23rd this year, as written by an employee with three years experience at RT:

Cons

Program scheduling department has no idea how to time budget for animation, has resulted in unnecessary, preventable crunch Company takes on projects that are too big for it to manage effectively Not the highest pay compared to Anim Guild standards Open office space, gets noisy

Advice to Management

Management has been using a weird method to try and deescalate hard feelings about crunch. They’re acting like counselors who are “there to talk” and to try and find “coping mechanisms” to deal with crunch. This is a terrible idea considering that none of them are trained counselors as far as I’m aware, but more-so, they’re obviously going to be biased in favor of what they want from us. It makes me want to communicate with them even less. This past review, my manager criticized me for having “negative energy” during a terrible crunch period where we were working over 80 hrs s week, and told me I should “look for the silver lining” which is just bad advice. Advice to management is to stop pretending you know anything about mental health and also be less passive - fight harder for your team.

From May 13th, an employee with a year’s experience at Rooster Teeth:

Cons

The management is terrible. Artists are lead on with the promises of "full time employment and benefits" dangled in front of them without ever being addressed and ultimately are never given, there is no paid overtime, artists had to fight for their right to time off between productions, and good luck getting any form of benefits despite them being plastered on the wall.

Advice to Management

You're not a group of guys playing halo in your apartment anymore. Please run your business and look at what's happened to it.

From June 11th this year, from an employee who has been working at the company for five years:

Cons

- Extremely poor management (Some of it is negligence, some of it is just accidental from the sheer amount of work. Upper management is also extreme bro/friends club.) - Insanely high expectations (animate a 10-14 min episode in 2 weeks) - Very low compensation (I've worked here for years and make entry pay. Some people have gone MULTIPLE years with no raise) - No overtime pay (Every season of RWBY and GL gets about 1/3 or less made for 'free' because no one gets paid over time and it's not uncommon to work hundreds of hours of overtime) - Toxic work environment (there are a lot of cliques, complaining and even making fun of other people and depts here. It never gets punished so it always happens. Not professional) - You know something is going right when after many complaints HR reminds everyone you have "unlimited" mental health doctor appointments... I could honestly go on and on like an emo on Myspace in 2007 but I'll reign it in. I'll leave it at this since I've seen many fans read these and be skeptical. It's not great. You can deny it but there is a lot of evidence if you just accept it. And the reason you work here is cus you get stuck and are promised "It'll get better". The work is low quality (hard to get jobs elsewhere), pay is low (can't save money) and life/work balance is a joke. We have a bit of balance now but it's only for a couple months out of the year when production isn't in full swing. Then it's back in the meat grinder.

Advice to Management

You NEED to listen to the workers and make hard decisions and actually fight for better conditions. It's been far far too long of "it'll get better" or "we know what to do next year". This isn't sustainable and I think we all know it. But someone has to be the guy to say "no" when things aren't good enough. If you don’t say no, hundreds of people suffer. Please.

From May 18th:

Cons

Crunch has gotten to an unacceptable level. Productions have been completed with over half of total hours unpaid overtime, especially impacting the comp and editing department. Management cares more about their ego than the quality of the work they put out— letting the crunch caused by their irresponsible decisions fall solely on the shoulders of the artists while they enjoy a forty hour work week. Pay is laughable compared with the amount of mandated, unpaid hours of labor. No career advancement, and contract workers are given empty promises of full time employment before being shown the door once production is done.

Advice to Management

Stop saying the crunch issue is “getting better” or that you’re “working on it”, and start actually owning up to your mistakes.

From May 19th:

Cons

-A lot of employees brought on, if not all, before the last development cycle were promised permanent positions after a 90 day trial period. As those dates approached those artists saw no change, asking their leads what was going on. The guidance from higher ups was vague at best, and some felt like they had been forced to lie to employees during the interview process. - A lot of processes went over-scope due to poor planning. -Lack of actual production experience in the management side of things is no longer something that can be glossed over as the company tries to take on more industry vetted employees. -Crunch is extreme and overtime is not compensated for, nor is that time given back in any fair amount.

Advice to Management

-Clear and concise communication -Re-structure your upper level management

From May 12th:

Cons

Crunch here is out of control. No Paid OT. Expect to work A LOT for free. 70-80 hour work weeks. Mandatory 10-12 hour work days sometimes with no days off. Management is more interested in telling you what you want the hear as opposed to the truth.

Advice to Management

Fix the crunch issue and stop saying 'we're working on it'.... because you're not. Layoffs are certain. Will layoff bad employees and good employees in the same breath, completely eliminating any reason to work as hard as you're required to do. Fix your transparency issue and stop overworking your employees otherwise your reputation will severely suffer.

From April 5th:

Cons

-No paid overtime. -Crunch is a major problem in the animation department due to unrealistic deadlines, poor planning, and indecisiveness. (Mandatory 10 to 12 hour days for multiple months are common.) -Stress levels are often very high due to harsh deadlines -Some of the producers tend to lie. -Promotions are used as a morale booster, not actual career advancement. -Hardly any time for Professional Development -Professionalism can be a bit scarce (for example people would draw penises on the boards throughout the studio)

Advice to Management

-Management needs to seriously figure out how to deal with the crunch issue. A question was asked at an all hands meeting: "How are you going to handle crunch this year?" Instead of giving a clear answer, the head of the RT animation department completely dodged the question. If you don't know how you are going to tackle a problem, try saying, "I don't know. I will get back with you ASAP." Then actually pursue a solution to the problem. Dodging questions makes you look shady and untrustworthy. -Improve production plans and make sure you have enough resources to complete your projects. If you are going to work on two shows at the same time, then you need to double ALL of your teams along the pipeline, not just one. If you can barely get one project done with your current resources, you certainly cannot finish two. If you can't get the resources needed to complete the projects, then it's probably best to keep them small or to simply not do them at all. Pushing your teams beyond the breaking point is not the wisest decision. If you continue with your overambitious ways, it will backfire in the long run. Telltale Games' closure and Bioware's Anthem debacle are examples of what's to come if you do not improve your production practices and get crunch under control. -Get more training on how to manage people. There are plenty of programs out there that can help management understand how to work with various types of personalities. There were some situations where I noticed that some leads and producers simply did not know how to talk to a person when there was a problem. Despite all of the criticism I just wrote, I feel the majority of who work at Rooster Teeth Productions are decent people. However, the management is just terrible. Put some of that ambition you have into fixing your problems internally instead of putting it into meeting those unrealistic deadlines.

From March 25th:

Cons

- Massive amounts of unpaid overtime. All while touting the importance to the company of a life/work balance. They promise to give you the time back, but it will be impossible to take. - Management is just a joke. They can’t schedule or stay on track to save their lives. Total amateur hour. - Zero followthrough on promises made. How about a pizza party? - Pay much lower than standard. Don’t expect real raises. Promotions with increased responsibilities don’t come with comparable pay bumps. - Most promises of advancement and opportunities are hollow wishful thinking. - Almost zero followthrough with meaningful investment in employee education. You can access a Udemy account and that’s about it. - Management will blame the artists instead of taking responsibility and will even through people under the bus to cover themselves. - Internet celebs are more valuable than artists. - Their awards are called “cockbite of the month/year” and it’s what they call their employees. You may not want to be called that but that’s too bad. It’s their culture. A few guys draw penises everywhere to be funny. - Not very much diversity in management. Feels like you need to be a straight white male to be appreciated.

Advice to Management

Hire some actual seasoned industry professionals to upper management in Animation. And demonstrate there are some consequences for them, instead of taking it out on employees.

From April 11th:

Cons

-Overtime, and hours will cause any person to slowly become something they don't like. -Management is typically made up of "talent" and treats other employees poorly, not to mention 0 years of previous managerial experience. -Management also blames other employees for the problems they create, and don't show actual leadership. -Echo chambers within management. -Stress levels incredibly high -Lack of professionalism

Advice to Management

-Get rid of "talent" in managerial roles, it's clear they're costing the company serious problems and money. The ones who end up being hurt are the employees who knew and constantly warned about problems ahead of time that were ignored. If the company stays the same a huge incident is bound to follow. -Try to respect creatives that aren't "talent" within the company as well. It's clear management doesn't and goes against the entirety of the company's "core values." those who have had previous industry experience should be listened to and considered instead of being shrugged off and given responses like "Well that's just how we do things." -Collaboration doesnt seem to exist for a majority of managment here. If this one massive change happens the company could really grow far and do much more than create crude content with a lack of care/heart for the final product. -If people are able to sleep and have a normal schedule more thoughtful input will also happen, and your content can only get better. -A multitude of people and lives have been hurt from management at this company, from in house employees being mentally abused to freelancers that are ghosted. So many immature and poor practices have taken place within the animation department I'm amazed a lawsuit has yet to happen. -Management should be leaders not bosses.

It’s almost darkly funny that most of the positives are just “They give you free food on Mondays and the people are nice.”

But these are all from just the last year alone. Most reviews from before the start of 2019 don’t speak of crunch barring one from April 2018, one from March 2018 and one from June. This is a problem that has been affecting Rooster Teeth for at least an entire year, and since the start of the new year, the problem has magnified tenfold. Most reviews mention that the heads of departments are aware of the crunch and unpaid overtime but refuse to do anything about it beyond offering platitudes or dodging the question on what the company is going to actually do to fix the crunch problem.

Crunch is a problem plaguing many companies, especially in the western hemisphere. In gaming development there’s a story nearly every month about what apathetic upper management think they can get away with by forcing employees to spend dozens of hours every week slaving away on their product. I hoped that Rooster Teeth would not be one of these companies, but I am saddened to see that they were not.

Crunch’s negative effects on mental and physical health have been well documented, alongside the basic fact that crunch isn’t worth it and doesn’t work. Employees forced to crunch are unable to work as well as employees who are well rested and have time to go home to their families.

To anyone working these impossible crunch hours at Rooster Teeth right now, I hope your suffering ends soon, that eventually basic human empathy wins out and hours are lessened while you receive your just rewards for your work.

For @roosterteeth? This is appalling and a slap in the face to the fanbase you conned into thinking that you were a company that cared for everyone within as a huge family. Your entire management team should be ashamed of the environment you signed off on. No profit margin is worth the suffering you have subjected your crew to. Shame on you.

As a fan of RWBY, it disgusts me that a product I enjoy was made through blood, sweat and tears. And as a fan of RWBY, I wish to make a public call to the fanbase, be it on Tumblr, Reddit, Twitter or Youtube. I want to make a public statement to Rooster Teeth that we are willing to wait longer for new shows if it means that they are made ethically. I can’t in good conscience support a product if it was made by putting the workers through hell. Maybe I can’t change anything on my own, maybe ultimately we’ll just be ignored, but I refuse to stand by and stay silent on the matter, maybe even get Rooster Teeth to make changes in their workflow (I won’t say “I hope they respond” because they seem to respond in-house to complaints about crunch without ever actually changing anything)

I encourage you to share this around as much as you can. Share the accounts of the Glassdoor reviews as far and as wide as you can. We love and enjoy media, we love the people who make it- the animators, editors, writers and voice actors, and we as a community want them to not have to resort to RT’s seemingly unlimited mental health coverage or “find a coping mechanism to deal with crunch.” As much as it pains me to admit, I’d rather see RWBY die instead of seeing continue to be made on the back of crunch.

Thank you for reading. Again, I encourage you to share this around as much as you can. Let your voice be heard if you stand against this.

#rwby #Rooster Teeth #Genlock #crunch #overtime #glassdoor #georden whitman #nomad of nowhere

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pulaasul · 3 years ago

Text

Shaker Call Out

As East High’s drama company had their cast party at Salt Lake Slices, two party-crashers arrived and sullied everyone’s good mood.

They were about to be sent out when Big Red decided to do the opposite.

As usual thanks to @cadetcama and @redlyncentral for the creative juices.

[FFN] [Ao3]

----

"It is true. Your show had a beginning, a middle, and an end. It was wonderful." A boy with a French accent nodded.

Every Wildcat present simply rolled their eyes at the faux compliment they received from their rivals.

After a successful, albeit stressful, opening night, the Wildcats held their cast party at Salt Lake Slices, Big Red's family pizza restaurant. Everyone was just having a good time reminiscing when two party-crashers got inside the establishment.

"And Big Red, you were also in it." The boy pointed at the owner's son.

The Wildcats frowned at the subtle dig the French boy had at them. Not letting these rivals get the best of them, Ricky decided to speak up.

"Okay, well, thank you for dropping by but this is kind of a private party." Ricky stood up, intending to escort them towards the door. "So if you could, uh-"

"Bye!" Every Wildcat chimed in.

"Thank you." Gina cheekily added.

"Out you go." Ricky pointed at the direction of the door.

"We'll miss you." Carlos waved.

"Actually no, you both can stay." Big Red voiced out. "Ricky, please close the door."

"Big Red?"

Despite how weird-ed out he was by his best friend's request, Ricky still followed it and locked it from the inside while the others were looking at Big Red as in a new light. No one expected this kind of reaction from their Le Fou.

"Kourtney, do you still have those videos saved on your phone?" Big Red ignored everyone's stares. "I've got some of them saved in mine."

"O my god! The shaker thief!" Ashlyn realized. "You mean?" Ashlyn looked at her boyfriend.

"Yeah, she even removed her sunglasses a few times." Big Red nodded and smiled at the same time.

"Shaker thief?" Nini couldn't help but ask.

"Basically, if there's one person from the drama club present at Slices, that's not employed, somehow, someone has been stealing the shakers that the restaurant provided the customers." Gina explained with a pointed look at Howie.

"We already confronted Howie," Kourtney came to her employee's defense. "Grilled him a few times myself once we found out who was stealing the shakers."

"How do you know this, Gina?" Carlos questioned his fellow dancer.

"She's my roomie!" Ashlyn declared. "Biggie tells me his stresses about the restaurant, including the shaker thief, and well, Gina and I talk about it."

"Excuse me?!" The blond girl exclaimed. "Are you accusing us of theft?!" She glared at Big Red.

"I think this will jog your memory." Kourtney declared as she connected her phone to the television near the counter and played the video.

The TV showed a CCTV recording by the most comfortable booth of the place. It showed Nini just ending her phone call while a boy, clearly the same boy that was currently present, talking to a blond girl, but the next thing that happened was the girl taking one shaker on the table and deposited it into her bag.

"Wasn't that Antoine?" Kourtney identified the boy.

"Big deal! That could have been Antoine's girlfriend!"

"The date was clearly before we found out that you stole our beast mask." Carlos countered.

"So he was in a relationship when he asked my cousin to dump her boyfriend and asked her out at the same time?" EJ raised an eyebrow.

"They could have broken up!"

Without another word, another footage played on the TV screen, this time it was Ashlyn and Big Red, who wasn't on duty, talking to each other. Not a moment later, EJ and Gina arrived and their talks turned into laughs.

The girl's face can easily be seen on another table, this time with her back against the laughing Wildcats. She made a face of discontent before she grabbed the shaker on the table and promptly walked out of frame.

"Isn't that you Lily?" Natalie raised an eyebrow.

"So what, I stole two pepper shakers," Lily scoffed.

"It's not just two shakers." Big Red interjected.

As more CCTV recordings played on the TV screen, displaying every time Lily was caught in the act of stealing one shaker per footage.

"Didn't you claim that North High is a quasi-pre-professional theater company?" Kourtney raised an eyebrow. "Correct me if I'm wrong, this is like my second opening night but do professional theater companies condone stealing?"

"They don't." EJ answered.

"Most performers are busy learning their lines and rehearsing that they don't have the time to do something petty and heinous such as stealing." Carlos supplied.

"Look, you could pay us $100 from the shakers and its contents that you stole, and you can leave." Big Red offered.

"It's not just $100," Kourtney interjected. "But we can break even with that amount."

"Who are you two supposed to be?" Lily exclaimed. "You could just barely stand during auditions." She pointed at Big Red.

"Lily, could you just pay them?" Howie groaned.

"Are you betraying us, Howie?" Antoine questioned.

"Fine, have it your way." Howie gave up. "Just for the record, you are talking to the owner of the restaurant you are standing on, and the assistant manager," He informed his schoolmates. "So sorry if I don't want to lose my source of income because of your idiocy." He sat down.

"So, Lily, your payment please." Kourtney approached the party crashers with an open palm.

"Look, we could do this the easy way, or the hard way?" Big Red sighed.

"Fine, call the police!" Lily stubbornly stood her ground. "But I'm not going down alone!"

"If you mean, how you stole Ricky's harness during his transformation scene? They know." Howie voiced out.

"Wha-"

"Yeah, Howie told us as soon as everyone from our company was present," Gina chimed in. "He wanted to tell Kourtney during intermission, but he also knew that it would put the act in jeopardy had we known ahead of time." She shrugged.

"We are still not done talking about that, by the way." Kourtney interjected.

"If you wanted to bring someone down with you, try a little harder." Gina 1 point oh resurfaced.

Lily, without a way out, and no money to pay the hundred dollars that she owed, she searched for ways to get out of the situation, or even get even."

"Ricky and I face timed each other."

"If you mean the time where you said you 'were struggling' that happened only one time," Big Red immediately countered. "And everyone instantly knew you had called Ricky as soon as your call ended, I was there."

"Ricky, remember your girlfriend's Rose song?"

"Lily, could you please stop?" Ricky groaned. "You aren't getting out of this or getting even with anyone." He added. "Please just pay Big Red and be done with this."

"I don't have that big of an amount, okay!" Lily exclaimed.

"Well, you could start by returning the shakers you stole," Kourtney raised an eyebrow. "Then we can deduct the prices of the shakers that you returned to the amount you owe, then you'll work for the remaining amount."

"No!" Lily exclaimed. "I'm not working at some derelict two-star family restaurant!"

"We could always involve the police," Seb shrugged.

"Take your pick." Carlos voiced out.

"Fine!" Lily grabbed Antoine by the arm and stomped towards the door.

"Don't forget, you start tomorrow!" Kourtney called out.

An expected growl was heard before the chimes of the door rang. The students of North High can be seen through the window, stomping away from the family restaurant.

"Do you think we're too harsh on her?"

"Too harsh?! Try too lenient! The restaurant lost more than a hundred dollars from her stunt!" Kourtney exclaimed. "You may not know this, Big Red, but the employees had to pay for the number of things that girl stole from your restaurant."

"Actually Big Red had the most amount to pay for Lily's theft," Ricky came to his best friend's defense. "He was forced to sell some of his video games so that he can contribute with the payment."

"Ricky!"

"You asked me to help you decide which games to sell," Ricky shrugged. "Some of them, you haven't even played."

"Don't video games cost $60? Ashlyn asked.

"Big Red already destroyed the package of the games he bought, so he couldn't sell the game at full price," Ricky answered. "He was able to sell one game for 15 bucks but all the other games only sold for 5 bucks."

"I told you not to question whether the Redonoviches included their son to contribute to the family restaurant's losses." Howie whispered.

"Why did you give her a discounted price then?"

"Tell me, do any one of you even carry around a hundred dollars?" Big Red raised an eyebrow.

"Not me." EJ answered.

"Nor me." Ashlyn shook her head.

"I usually leave the majority of my money home," Gina answered. But I have some money stored in my bag's pockets for emergencies, you never know."

"Besides, we can always reveal the full amount that she owed the restaurant as soon as she starts working." Big Red offered.

"I suppose that's fair." Kourtney nodded.

"With the Lily drama out of the way, who here still cares about the Menkies?" Carlos asked.

Everyone looked at each other, they were hesitating to raise their hands, eyeing if one ever would.

"Good!" Carlos sighed. "I thought it was only me."

"I mean, we already won right?"

#hsmtmts #ashlyn caswell #big red redonovich #kourtney greene #ricky bowen #ej caswell #nini salazar roberts #gina porter #carlos rodriguez #seb matthew-smith #lily hsmtmts #antoine hsmtmts #howie hsmtmts #story #shaker call out #scr

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dibidibifiction · 4 years ago

Text

Criminal In My Mind: Chapter 10

Warning: nudity; foul language; slight violence

Pairing: Choi Minho x Reader Word count: 1.7k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction made for personal entertainment of readers. The writer does not ever intend to offend her readers nor does she aim to spread false information about anyone as to pay any disrespect to the real-life persons whom the characters are based on. She also does not claim ownership to any of the images that are being used.

masterlist Chapter 9

MINHO

With the sunlight touching my eyelids warm, I wake up feeling Y/n’s breath on my skin and her hand resting on my chest. I move closer to her side while she is still fast asleep. I stare at her glowing skin for a moment, letting it sink in that something finally happened between us. And it was fucking incredible.

She looks so calm now, her lips curved up a little, but maybe that’s just my imagination reflecting from what I’m feeling right now. She’s now different from how she was when she was sleeping in the car last night having a nightmare. She is so beautiful that I could stay like this all day. I try to keep myself from touching her face. When I almost do, she slowly lifts up her eyelids and closes them back down again.

She smiles once she sees me looking at her. “Hi,” she says very softly, cupping my cheek with her delicate fingers. “I can’t believe I’m waking up next to you.”

I kiss her on her forehead. “You have no idea how happy you make me.”

“You amaze me.” Her eyes are still closed, trying to adjust to the brightness of the morning sun entering through the window.

I just stare at her, shaking my head in disbelief. If only I could elaborate how much she means to me.

She just laughs. So adorably I have to kiss her again and again. “Come on, let’s make some breakfast.”

I take off the sheets covering me and get up from the bed to look for my underwear around the room.

Good thing my classes don’t start till this afternoon. Do you have to work today?” I talk to her while walking across the bedroom, bending over to pick my clothes up piece by piece. When I don’t hear a response, I turn around and catch Y/n already sitting up with her head tilted and her eyes in my direction, but lower, seeming dazed. “Y/n?”

She shakes her head back to reality. “Sorry?”

I approach her again to kiss her on the lips then head out of the room to the kitchen and put some pants on.

. . .

I’m now back at my apartment hours later to take a shower and get ready for class. I have three two-hour classes today so it’s going to be a long afternoon. I had to get home a little earlier so I can stop by the library later to advance study since I was too busy being mind blown last night.

I glance at the mirror one last time to check my decency and take the apartment keys. Just as I'm about to walk to the front door, I hear somebody knock.

I open it and there is a familiar face.

“Min Hyunjae,” I mumble. My eyes widen in surprise.

“Have you been well, Choi Minho?”

I stare at him, not knowing how to react or what to say.

“You may be wondering how I got here. Or how I survived the explosion,” he starts, coming in and walking around the room uninvited. “I would’ve talked to you at the party when Dr. L/n introduced us, but I didn’t wanna ruin your moment with your girlfriend.”

“Hyunjae, I-”

“Save it!” he suddenly yells, making me flinch. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? Huh?”

I’m still confused. I have so many questions, but I don’t know where to begin.

“I was in the hospital for almost two years. In a coma for one and another for treatment and recovery,” he tells me coldly. “But not a single visit from you.”

“Hyunjae, I had no-”

“I said fucking save it, pretty boy! If you had no idea, why didn’t you even try to find me?” his voice weakens as tears start to form in his eyes. “If I meant so much to you...”

I stay silent. My heart feels for him as guilt builds up in my gut. I had no idea he was alive. I saw him being dragged by that man. For all I know they had killed him like what they did to my brother. And the building exploded. There’s no way somebody could have survived that.

“After my recovery, I looked for you everywhere. I went to your orphanage and looked up your records of where you might have been,” he continues, wiping away his tears. “I had guys looking for you in years and years…” he then approaches me and looks me in the eyes. “I thought that you might be dead, but I never gave up on you. I even decided to forgive you for not coming back for me and rather saved that stupid girl,” he grabs me by the collar of my jacket, hands trembling with rage, but calms down immediately. “You were all I had. I made it my remaining life’s mission to find you.” He turns away from me, walking to my kitchen counter.

I start to tear up as well. I should have looked for him. I should’ve never given up on him. Back then, all I wanted was to move on and live a new life. A better life. It never occurred to me that something from that past of mine still exists. I thought it was all over.

“Until…” He stops, making my heart sink. “...two years ago, I finally found you.” He turns to face me again. “After finding out that you’re perfectly fine, you’re perfectly happy without me, you’re...” he starts trembling again. “...perfect. It’s difficult to be happy for you. After all that I’ve been through, I thought that if I finally found you, all is fine and all is worth it and that we’ll be together again and start over.” He forms his fist, trying not to burst.

“Of course we can start over. It’s not too late,” I say, walking towards him to hug him, but before I know it, he throws his fist at my face, making me bleed and fall to the floor. His impact was so strong and unexpected, I almost lost consciousness.

“My doctors said I was lucky since nobody else survived. But you know what? Maybe it’s better if I didn’t.”

Before I attempt to get up and talk some sense into him, he’s already out the door. I touch my lip and see blood on my finger.

. . .

It’s now the next thirty hours and I had a long day, with a full shift at the café and those two-hour classes this afternoon. I’m exhausted. And my jaw still hurts from yesterday.

I decided to go see my mom in her office since I don’t have to see Y/n until later tonight after her shift at the flower shop.

Carrying five large boxes of pizza and a small one, I now enter my mom’s company building through the revolving doors and hop on an elevator to her floor. It’s been a while since I’ve been here and worked as one of Mom’s associate’s assistants. Even though I worked here for two years before, I still couldn’t understand what this company does. Nobody knew that I was the CEO’s son till I resigned and it was fun watching their reactions when they found out.

Employees bow to me as hellos while I pass by the halls. I find my old boss’s conference room and knock at his door. I open it to see him talking in front of his team then pauses once he sees me.

“Oh, you’re here!” he greets me as a big grin forms on his face. “Come in. Uh, everyone, this is the CEO’s son Mr. Choi Minho and my former assistant.” Another series of formal hellos follows.

“Please, I was just another employee. I hope you’re all doing well. Sorry for interrupting. I just stopped by to give you guys these,” I say as I put down two of the pizza boxes on their long table. “Keep up the good work, guys!”

After a series of formal ‘thank you’s, I step out of the room and walk to my mom’s department and also hand the groups of staff the large pizzas left on my hand.

When I reach my mom’s office, I open it very slightly to see if it’s okay to come in. She sees me as soon as I pop my head in, “Oh, hey, come on in. My secretary already told me you’re coming and handing out free pizzas.”

“Of course I got one for you too,” I tell her as I place the small box of pizza on her desk.”

She glares at me. “The small one? You got me the small one,” her tone sounds grouchy.

“What? Last time I checked you were watching over your weight,” I say in a defensive tone.

She laughs. “Alright, alright. Aren’t you gonna eat?” she asks me.

“I’m eating with Y/n later,” I inform her, feeling my face turning red.

“Ooh, is tonight the night?” she teases.

“Actually the night already happened.”

“What?” she screams, with her mouth smothered by a big bite of pizza.

“Yeah, we went to her parents’ house. That’s why I needed the car.”

“Forget about that. It’s yours if you want. Then, what happened?”

I carry on telling her all about the night at Y/n’s mom’s birthday party, how I met her friends, her parents, and how incredible of a woman she is. I then mention Min Hyunjae since she’s the only one who knows everything about me yet.

“Well, honey, I’m sure he’ll come around and to his senses. It’s not like it’s your fault. Don’t blame yourself, okay?”

I give her a sad smile.

Sometimes, I forget that I’m talking to my mom but rather a friend since I can automatically tell her everything, even my sex life, which is weird for a lot of people. But hey, most of them think we’re already weird as mother and son. I don’t care what they think. I’m just glad I have someone like her in my life.

An hour has passed after talking about her work and my studies. I now have to go and go pick up Y/n and I can’t be more excited.

“Have fun,” my mom says to me with an almost squeaky voice while I walk towards the door.

“Will do,” I smile at her.

“Wear protection!” I hear her say after I shut the door behind me.

I just laugh and carry on walking. Even though she’s like my best friend, she doesn’t forget to be a mom.

Chapter 11

#ktm cimm #ktm cimm c10 #shinee fanfic #shinee #shinee fiction #minho smut #shinee minho smut #choi minho x reader #shinee fanfiction #choi minho smut #shinee smut #shinee fluff #minho x reader

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iron--spider · 5 years ago

Text

they’re okay

The compound is nearly empty of employees and public tours by the time the clock hits eleven at night, and since Pepper is out of town and Peter is staying over for the weekend, he and Tony spent longer in the workshop than is usually deemed good for their health. But they ate pizza and took breaks from their projects, so Peter figures they wouldn’t get in too much trouble, if May and Pepper were to ask. Maybe they would have preferred salad, to the pizza. Or tuna sandwiches.

Oh well. What’s done is done.

Peter likes the compound when it’s like this. When it’s not teaming with people who don’t know who he is, when it’s quiet and feels more like the home he’s come to know it as. Tony still has walls up, with just about everyone he interacts with, and as the sun falls lower in the sky, the walls start to come down, too. Peter will see it briefly, in the middle of the day, like a window opening to let in a breeze—a look he recognizes, a wink, a phrase—but no one really sees Tony save for a few select people. And Peter still can’t believe he’s counted among them. It feels like a dream, still, something he’ll come blinking out of one morning before school. But it’s not—he pinches himself and it’s not—and when the compound settles into darkened hallways and lively living quarters, Peter remembers that he knows the real Tony Stark. He knows because Tony wants him to. Tony trusts him.

They bump shoulders as they move out into the hallway, and Peter punches in the four digit code to lock the workshop. The windows go dark with Friday’s new updates, so no one can see the remains of what they were working on.

“I mean, you’re sort of gonna look like an alien in that thing,” Tony says, as they start down the hallway. “That’s a given whenever you’ve got green involved. And it’s like...neon green, which was your choice—”

Peter snorts. “I mean, I don’t have anything with green in it so far,” he says, tapping his hand on the railing as they keep on towards the elevators. “There was this blogger, she was saying how I should change the costume up a little bit from time to time—”

“Are you looking to get on fashion lists?” Tony asks, laughing at him.

“No,” Peter asserts. “No, but—”

“That’s fine, let’s make you a gold one,” Tony says. “That’ll really get on the bloggers’ tails, they’ll have people trying to swing alongside you so they can get pictures.”

They bypass the balcony and the lights on the ceiling come to life with every step. Tony likes to stay up late, whether he needs sleep or not, and they’re halfway through their horror movie marathon, which makes getting sleep afterwards even more difficult. But Peter is looking forward to The Exorcist tonight, and Poltergeist tomorrow. Two of Tony’s favorites.

Peter is about to say something stupid when he feels a sinking feeling in his gut. The kind of thing that grips him when there’s danger, and he turns around quick, grabbing onto Tony’s arm in something protective and reactionary. But he’s still Peter Parker right now, still hiding behind his own name and face, and the two men in masks rush at them before he can even think about doing anything. He does, briefly, when he hears Tony curse, but they’ve got hand guns, and there’s one on Tony, one on Peter.

The one on Tony is pointing at his heart, and Peter lets out a shuddering breath.

“This is the intern?” one masked guy asks the other.

“Yeah, that’s him, but Stark loves this one, so we’re in good company,” the other masked man says.

“Jesus Christ. Stuart?” Tony asks. “Stuart from fucking accounting? Coming in here with a goddamn mask on?”

“Shit,” Stuart says. His gun wavers and he looks at his friend, and it seems like he briefly considers taking his mask off before deciding against it. “Alright, whatever, yeah, it’s me.”

“And is this your buddy you talk so much about? What’s it, uh—Albert—Alec?”

“Jesus Christ, Stu,” Alec says, and he steps closer to Peter, his gun right up in his face.

“Alright, guys, just—let my intern go, I already tortured him well into the night with projects he was very uninterested in, spreadsheets, uh, Excel—Excel documents—”

“No,” Alec says, and he grabs Peter this time, by the shoulder, pressing the gun into his back. “He’s the damn plan.”

Peter’s been in this situation like, way too many times for how old he is, and it doesn’t really faze him anymore. But it’s the gun the Stu guy is holding on Tony, as he roughly turns him around—that’s what’s making Peter nervous. Tony doesn’t have a suit right now, he’s not anywhere near a suit. He’s in danger.

He looks determined to get Peter out of this. “He’s the—listen, Stu, I’ll give you whatever you want, but you just need me, not him.”

Stu grabs Tony’s hands and quickly zip-ties them together, which makes Tony roll his eyes. Alec presses Peter forward until he stumbles, and they walk until they reach the elevator.

“You’re always hanging out with this one, he knows all the damn codes, and I don’t trust your ass,” Stu says. He punches the down button on the elevator, and the doors open. “Trust Iron Man in one of his own storage rooms? Shit, you’ll blow us up and everything else.”

Peter sighs, and keeps quiet, and he knows Tony doesn’t want him to try anything. He wants to, so bad, but the gun—Stu is pressing it into Tony’s side now, as they load into the elevator, and it makes Peter see stars. Alec presses 3B, which is weapons storage.

“We’ll have him do it, and you watch,” Stu says, to Tony. “And we’ll get what we need and leave.”

“Fri—” Tony starts.

“Don’t talk to your damn AI right now,” Stu says. “I know better than that. Bullets are gonna start flying.”

Peter tries to keep his breathing level.

“Stu, I’ve never heard you talk like this,” Tony says, eyes briefly cutting over to Peter. “Is our health care package not up to snuff? Hours? C’mon, we can work this out.”

“It was always gonna end this way,” Stu says. “You really took that fake background on me all the way. Kinda sad.”

“Thank you for alerting me to this security concern,” Tony says. He sighs, shifts from foot to foot. “Listen, I promise. I’ll be good. Let me go get you what you want, just let the kid go and we’ll be golden. You two can waltz right out of here, no questions asked.”

“Sorry,” Stu says, and he sounds anxious. “You’re way too obvious with who you trust, who you hang out with. Wouldn’t be surprised if this one wasn’t your actual child from some one night stand, and you interned him in when you found out.”

“Jesus, kid, he knows,” Tony says.

Peter manages a half-hearted laugh. He can feel the anxiety melting off both guys, and the gun in his back shakes. He doesn’t think they’ll shoot him, after all, he is just a kid to all parties concerned, despite the fact that Tony knows he’s got super powers. But Stu definitely seems more sure than Alec does, and he’s the one on Tony. He feels like the mastermind here. More willing to do what he thinks he has to do. He’s the kinda guy that can fly off the handle.

“Hey, it wasn’t a one night stand,” Peter says, softly. “He and my mom dated for an...entire week.”

Tony snorts, grinning over at him as the elevator dings, and he’s definitely not taking this seriously.

“Wow,” Alec asks, leaning close to Peter’s ear. “Really? That true?”

“Alright, alright,” Stu says, anger in his voice. “Stop with the fucking Tony Stark snark.” He pushes Tony out into the hall and Alec quickly follows with Peter. Peter tries to determine if he could take them both out without any guns being fired, but then they’d know that he’s definitely not some normal kid. They’d go to jail, spread it around, and boom. That’s the end of him.

They take them down three doors and stop in front of the fourth one. Peter knows for a fact that some of the alien weaponry from the battle of New York is stored in there. The same shit that Toomes was after. He really doesn’t wanna go through this again. He wonders if they know him, know what happened between him and Spider-Man.

“Little intern, it’s your time to shine,” Stu says. “Alec is gonna take you in there while I stay out with your boss, he’s gonna show you what we want, you’re gonna box it up for us, and then we’re gonna tie you up too while we get the hell outta here. This is my notice, Stark, by the way.”

“Yeah, figured,” Tony says. He glances at Peter again, and then looks back at Stu with a little more anger simmering in his eyes. “Listen, he’s not doing this. You’re not ordering him around. I’ll do it, but not him.”

“Tony, it’s fine,” Peter says. “I’ll do it, it’s fine.”

Tony leans in closer to him, and gives him a look he’s seen a few times before. “I’m not letting him take you in there, alone with a gun.”

Peter knows he could disarm the Alec guy if he was alone with him. But he knows that Stu would immediately take action as soon as he sees that, whether he was shocked by it or not. He’d hurt Tony.

Stu sighs heavily, and he walks around, standing in front of Tony. “You do it, kid, or I shoot Stark.”

Peter’s mouth goes dry.

“Uh, Stu?” Alec asks, moving away from Peter a bit.

Peter’s heart is hammering against his chest. All he wants to do is take them out, but he’s getting worse and worse readings off Stu. His plan is falling apart, and he doesn’t like it. There’s something unhinged, in his eyes. Peter is freaking out.

“We know who you both are,” Tony says. “You’re using fake names, I bet, sure, but I can figure it out from here. You’re going down for this no matter what. Just play this part by my rules, okay? Let the kid go. You deal with me.”

“Final warning,” Stu says, like he didn’t even hear him. “Little intern, you go in with Alec in the next five seconds, or I’m shooting Stark.”

“Tony, I’m going,” Peter says, eager to end this.

“No,” Tony starts. “I need to keep you—”

“Alright,” Stu says, and the gun goes off.

Peter sees Tony stumble back, clutching at his middle with his bound hands, and the blood starts to bloom almost immediately on his soft blue shirt. Peter hears a high pitched ringing in his ears, signifying his own horror, and he knows Alec is saying something to Stu, he hears it but he doesn’t hear it at all. He grabs onto Tony’s shoulders and slowly lowers him to the ground, and he quickly starts applying pressure to the wound.

He’s sucked back into the past by all of it. The gunshot, the spot where Tony was hit, the way they both sank down—it’s Ben. It’s Ben all over again. Ben on that sidewalk with a broken bag of Lay’s, daffodils and a shattered jar of salsa from the bodega lying beside him. His groans of pain, the gathering crowd, the buzzing street light above them, glowing orange because it was going out, unlike the rest shining bright and yellow.

Blood. Deep red.

This is that. This is that, and Peter is frozen, everything locking up inside of him. He breaks out into a sweat and he’s breathing hard through his mouth, wheezing, hands pressing down on the wound.

It was a bad place to be hit. He didn’t have much time. They couldn’t get to him.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind? What the fuck? That wasn’t part of the plan!”

“Tony,” Peter mutters. “Tony.”

“Alright,” Tony says, wincing. “That was—that was unexpected. Goddamn Stu eats—fucking kale for lunch, I didn’t think he’d—”

“You’re bleeding out,” Peter stammers, tears clouding his vision. “Tony.”

“Let’s go, kid, or I’ll shoot him again,” Stu says. “You can get this done fast, and maybe if you’re fast enough, you can save him. I know you’ve got doctors here 24/7.”

Peter is shaking. He can’t breathe.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony whispers. “Hey, hey.” He reaches up, touches Peter’s cheek in an effort to get him to focus, in an attempt at comfort. He brushes his thumb over the hinge of Peter’s jaw. “I’m sorry. This—me, being stubborn. You’re okay.”

“You’re not,” Peter breathes. He tunes back in, looks over his shoulder and sees Alec. “Hands on—stifle the wound. I’m going in with him.”

“With one hand,” Stu says. “Other on your gun.”

“No, kid,” Tony says, groaning. “Pete, please.”

Peter gets up, almost on autopilot, and watches to make sure Alec is applying pressure. Then he quickly puts in the code, and moves inside with Stu.

He could take him out. He could, and Alec would probably be a creampuff. But there could be more. Alec could shoot Tony again. And Peter’s off his game, shock making him shake as he gets what Stu wants, his hearing too loud and blaring all the different mechanical noises running the compound. He can hear Alec’s gun trembling against Tony’s side. He can hear Tony’s labored breathing. His own heart faltering.

Ben, stay with me. Stay with me, please. They’re on their way. They’re coming.

Peter puts everything in a big box. He wants—he wants to fight. He wants to beat Stu’s head in until he can taste his own regret. But he can’t bring himself to do it, can’t find it in him, can’t work past the fear and the horror and the very real memories making him half of who he needs to be.

He’s failing. He’s failing.

Next thing he knows, the two assholes are running down the hallway, and Peter’s hands are zip tied together, pressing down onto Tony’s abdomen.

“I pressed—I pressed the panic button,” Peter says, tearing up. “He didn’t see. Helen—Helen should get it. She’s still here.”

“She is,” Tony says, getting paler and paler.

“Stay with me, please,” Peter pleads, pressing harder, the blood running through every line in his hands. “Tony. Tony, look—I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“No apologies—from you, bud,” Tony says, and he blinks slowly at him. “You did—great. So good. Proud of you.”

Ben, wake up. Wake up.

He hears footsteps. People running. He glances over his shoulder and sees Helen and three of the male nurses, and he didn’t count, he didn’t count, he should have been counting since the moment Tony hit the floor, it’s his fault, he should have been counting, he should have fought, he should have destroyed those two assholes—

“Let’s go, Peter,” Helen says, as they hoist the gurney Tony’s on into the air.

It’s horrifying. It’s blood and loud beeping and yelling and then surgery, too much silence, until he calls Pepper and wails into the phone like a five year old. He could have ended this, a hundred times since it started, because he’s fucking Spider-Man, but his fear—it crept up, it held him in place, it dictated his every move.

He’d had someone he loved die in this exact same way. And that memory laid over Tony like a shroud, like his own death foreshadowed, tainted by knowing Peter Parker in any way more than an acquaintance.

It’s his fault. It’s his fault. It was with Ben and it is now, with Tony, too.

He goes in and out of time like he did back then, when he was waiting in the emergency room. When they were transferring the body. When they were talking to May about arrangements. His vision goes dark and his brain shuts down.

He doesn’t know when she gets here. He doesn’t know when she drags him into the bathroom. She’s standing behind him, washing off his hands and talking nonsense into his ear, and he glances up. Sees the swipe of blood on his cheek where Tony touched him.

“May,” Peter says, shaking.

“Honey, I’ve got you,” she whispers.

“It’s my fault,” he says, his voice full of tremors.

“It’s not.”

“It is,” he says, leaning back against her. “I could have done something and I didn’t. I didn’t. I didn’t. I should have gotten them. I should have, I had so any fucking opportunities and I didn’t—I didn’t, and he—and he—”

“Shh, baby,” May whispers, and she turns the water off before he crumples. She crumples right along with him, curling around him and holding him close.

It was like this then, too.

Tony is lucky. Tony is almost always lucky, despite the fact that he’s crushed into situations that he has to be lucky enough to survive. Helen says the specifics to the newly arrived Pepper, and Peter’s in the corner of the room, not listening. That tone has been going off in his ears since it all happened and he can’t get it to stop. Everything is too loud. Too bright.

Peter skips school. Doesn’t talk to Ned, or MJ, and barely eats, only when May forces him. He lives in the Now and in the Then. His inability. But Now he’s got powers. Now, he should have been able to do something. Shut the situation down. His fear overruled all that.

He has to wait nearly two days to be able to talk to him.

“He’s been asking for you,” Pepper says, leading him to the med bay room Tony’s in. “Stop hiding out, huh? You know he wants to see you.”

“It’s my fault he’s in here at all,” Peter says, defeated.

“Stop,” Pepper says. “We all watched the footage. If you would have made a move, they could have shot either one of you. Powers or not, you’re not bulletproof. And Tony doesn’t want you using your powers unless you’re suited up, no matter what’s going on. For your safety.”

Peter doesn’t say anything else.

Tony almost looks normal, when Pepper leaves Peter in there with him. He’s still pale, but he’s sitting up, and he smiles when he sees Peter.

“Jesus, there he is,” Tony says. “Took you long enough. Gotta get shot in the head next time, maybe you’ll be there when I wake up.”

That sends shivers down Peter’s arms, and he doesn’t say anything for fear of his voice breaking. He takes a seat beside the bed and immediately leans down, pressing his forehead into the mattress.

Tony rubs the back of Peter’s neck, ruffling his hair. “That was my fault,” he says. “The whole fucking thing. For hiring that asshole, one. Two, letting him work late to begin with—moron, I’m a moron.”

Peter shakes his head.

“I just—the idea of them, one, finding out you have powers, I mean, kid, I know you wanted to take them down. I know you did, I could see it in your eyes, but then they would have known and I know they seemed like idiots but even idiots can put it together when they really think about it. So there was that—and two, I didn’t want them even thinking about shooting you. Okay? I just—I didn’t want them alone with you and—I didn’t wanna give them that chance, if I could help it. I wasn’t—thinking straight.”

“They shot you,” Peter says, muffled into the bed. “They shot you, I let them, I gave them what they wanted while you were bleeding out on the ground.”

“We’ll find ‘em,” Tony says. “For sure.”

“I—I should have—” He looks up, and even his own voice is too loud. His eyes are straining with how much he’s been crying lately. “I should have done something. I should have. I’m Spider-Man, I’ve dealt with more complicated situations, but I just—I completely froze up. Completely.”

“It’s okay,” Tony says, shaking his head. He looks at him intently. “Your senses going wonky right now? You’ve got that look.”

Peter covers his face with his hands. He feels like he’s gonna shatter.

“It reminded me of...of Ben. When—when Ben—you know.” His throat is tight and he shakes his head. “And I couldn’t—do anything. At all. And I—and then it just became—the nightmare. My nightmare.” He lets his hands slide away and Tony immediately grabs one of them.

“I’m so sorry, Pete,” Tony says, softly. “Okay? But I’m okay. I’m alright. It was—a bullshit situation, but I’m fine, okay? Stu, real name Leonard, was a shit shot. Missed all the vital organs. Who the fuck does that, at point blank range?”

Peter squeezes Tony’s hand without thinking about it. “Did you find them yet?” he asks.

“Not yet,” Tony says, watching him with a degree of nervousness.

Peter makes it his goal to find them first.

It takes a week, and when he finds them things are a lot more...complicated than he was expecting. They have more weapons, stolen from other corporations, and there are more than Stu/Leonard and Alec present. About ten or twenty well armored guys, more.

Peter is fueled by anger, which is rare for him, a need for revenge, which is also rare. The angel on his shoulder tells him he’s doing this for the wrong reasons, that he’s being wild and reckless, but he keeps on anyway—the opposite of when he and Tony were ambushed. He won’t let them get the upper hand this time. He can’t stop himself.

No matter how much he gets hurt.

He’s almost broken in half by the end of it all, and he webs them up in big clumps and calls the cops, staying to make sure they know who the leaders of the organization are.

Peter only becomes aware of his injuries when he’s on his way to the compound and Karen starts listing them off for him. He doesn’t think he should be moving, let alone swinging, but he continues on his way anyway, gritting his teeth through the pain.

He arrives and unceremoniously collapses in Tony’s room.

“What in the blue fuck?” Tony says, hobbling over from his spot at his desk. He still isn’t really supposed to be on his feet yet, but he definitely gets his time in when Pepper, Happy and Rhodey aren’t watching him like hawks. He moves over to where Peter is trying to push himself back up. “Peter. What the fuck?”

“I did it,” Peter says, breathing hard, ripping his mask off. He spits something out of his mouth and blood goes flying with it. “I did it. I got ‘em. Arrested. In jail. The whole outfit.”

“Did you just spit out a tooth?” Tony asks, hovering over him.

“Don’t kneel next to me, your stomach, your stomach,” Peter says. He braces his hand on the bed and Tony grabs his arm, pulling him up. Peter leaves a bloody handprint on the sheet and he winces, looking at Tony. “Shit.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Tony says, eyes wide, urging him down onto the bed.

“No, I’m fine,” Peter slurs, sitting, the world rocking around him.

“No, you’re not goddamn fine, you look like you just went six rounds with Mayweather. You’ve got two black eyes—Friday, call Helen in here.”

“Yes, boss.”

Tony sits next to him, takes Peter’s chin and makes Peter look at him. “You got those guys?” he asks.

Peter nods, the mere motion making him wanna puke.

“And they did this to you?” Tony asks, stern.

“They had a bunch of weapons, all kinds of shit, and more dudes, and it was hard, but I did it, I fixed it, they’re not gonna ever fucking get to look at you again.”

Tony clicks his tongue, letting go of him.

“Miss Cho is on dinner break off campus, but she’s on her way back. Would you like a nurse to come in?”

“No!” Peter yells. “I’m fine.”

“Kid, when the hell are you gonna get it?” Tony asks. “Look at yourself. When the hell are you gonna understand?”

“What?” Peter asks. His wrist cracks and he winces, holding it against his chest. “What, what? Why are you mad? I did it. They’re off the streets. I did everything right, they probably won’t even need to go to the hospital wing at the jail. I was—I was measured, I was careful.”

“Your safety is the point,” Tony says, leaning closer. “That’s it. That’s what I care about. I don’t care who does what, I don’t give a shit, I will always choose the ending where you’re safe and unhurt. I would have let those morons shoot me ten more times if it meant you would never be in their line of fire.”

Peter scoffs at him, his own anger rising, along with his dizziness. “Well, I can’t watch someone I love die again. I can’t. I had to watch Ben bleed out on the side of the road and then I had to watch this with you and those guys were clearly unhinged and willing to do whatever and I couldn’t, I could not let them try and come back and get at you again. I couldn’t. I can’t. I love you too much to let that happen.”

He sucks in a breath because he realizes what he just said. He blinks stupidly, and everything hurts more than it did. His wrist is broken. Maybe an ankle too. Definite concussion. He did spit out a tooth before. He’s got a split lip. Two black eyes. He can’t hear out of one ear. There are about ten cuts in his suit. He’s missing a finger nail. He just told Tony he loves him.

It’s true, they just don’t say it. Or they haven’t before. Maybe saying it brings more danger into the world. That phrase in the air, for others to hear. It brings all their actions into stark relief. These are two people who love each other, and that can be taken advantage of. Another father figure. Someone else he loves. Someone else he has to worry about. Someone else who could die.

But people know anyway. This just makes it concrete.

Peter closes his eyes tight, swaying.

Tony wraps an arm around him, uncaring of the blood and grime. “I love you too, Pete,” he says. “Too damn much. And I’m older than you so what I say goes.”

“Nope,” Peter says, shaking his head. “No. Old people don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“I said older not old. And I was working on it. The gang. I was working on it. I didn’t want you to go in guns blazing and come out with—a fucking concussion, among other things. You’re running on emotion, I know, I’ve seen it up close in the damn mirror and that never bodes well. I’m fine. I’m here. I promise.”

“But you could have not been,” Peter says. “You were dying. Right in front of me.”

“No, I wasn’t,” Tony says. “Bad shot, remember?” He squeezes Peter’s shoulder, tugs him closer. “I know you’re mad at yourself because you didn’t respond how you wanted to when they had us. I’ve had that shit happen. But you didn’t need to go full throttle to redeem yourself in your own eyes. You didn’t need redeeming with me. I want you safe. That’s it. I know you’re the great flying arachnid and you’re ten times stronger than Captain America but you’re still—my kid, and if I can see you in one piece at the end of it, that’s my route, no questions asked. Not a fan of you collapsing bloody on the floor if I can avoid it, no matter what the hell’s been done to me.”

Peter sighs, opening his eyes again and looking at him. “I’m still glad I got them.”

“Stubborn as hell.”

“Just like you,” Peter says.

“Next time, let me send in a fleet of armor to tackle the problem instead of you getting sliced and diced and shot at,” Tony says. “Okay?”

“Maybe,” Peter says, narrowing his eyes. “We’ll see.”

Tony’s brows furrow.

The world twists and turns and turns again, and Peter clutches at his chest. “Now I gotta—I gotta go puke.”

Tony slips his arm down and supports Peter’s waist instead, and when he hauls him up they both groan. “We’re a disgusting PSA for bad decision making,” he says, as they hobble for the bathroom.

“This was a good—”

“Jesus, Pete,” Tony says, cutting him off.

Peter throws up about three times once they make it in there, and Tony hovers over him, hands down a wet washcloth.

“You smell like yesterday’s hummus,” Tony says, pulling him back to his feet when he’s done.

Peter snorts, which hurts, and he leans over in the sink, turning on the water. He closes his eyes, feels Tony rubbing his back. “Thanks for not making fun of me when I said I love you,” he mutters.

“Why would I make fun of that when there’s so many other, more ridiculous things?” Tony says.

Peter shakes his head.

“Like I said, I love you too,” Tony says. “So much so, that I’m gonna have Helen give you the little pink pig Band-Aids she keeps on hand. Because you deserve it.”

Peter smiles to himself. “You’re the worst,” he says, meaning something entirely else. You’re the best. The coolest.

“You too,” Tony says, with so much fondness that it brings tears to Peter’s eyes.

They’re okay. They’re okay. A concussion, a gunshot wound, a few broken bones and a missing tooth. But they’re okay.

#tony stark #peter parker #iron man #spider-man #my fics #iron dad #i don't know what this is #i was having trouble with my big project so i wrote this to get back into the groove

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